Odds Against (Margot and Odds Cozy Mystery Book 2)

by Audrey Claire

  “I was looking for Odds,” Margot said and forced a smile. “How are you this evening, Zabrina dear?”

  Zabrina seemed about to respond when Margot at last noticed what Odds had been pointing out to her earlier. Mysophobia, as Margot had discovered was the actual term, was what everyone had told her Zabrina had. She feared germs, and as was the case, she touched very little, wouldn’t eat with anyone and had never attended one of Nancy’s parties.

  Margot had learned Zabrina’s most noticeable trademark was to wear sleek black gloves at all times. She couldn’t attest to what the woman did in her own apartment, but definitely in public without fail. Yet now, while she had been inside the new neighbor’s home, she hadn’t worn gloves. Her hand lay exposed on the doorknob that must have been touched by who knew how many people.

  Zabrina’s eyes widened as she grasped the moment Margot had seen the lapse in her habit. The young woman’s hand sprung away from the knob, and she reached into the pocket of her slacks and pulled out the gloves. After slipping them onto her hands, she turned without a word and walked back down to the first floor. Margot remained alone in the hall.

  “Well,” Margot said in wonder.

  She started to return to her own apartment but instead chose to go to Nancy’s. With a single knock, she found the door opened to her and Nancy offering food.

  “Not tonight, dear,” Margot said distracted. “You will never guess what I’ve just seen.”

  “What’s that?”

  Margot started to answer, but a scratch at the door captured her attention. She got to her feet and opened the door for Odds. He sauntered in and found a spot on an armchair to nap. Margot decided not to bother with him at the moment. She shut the door and returned to her own seat.

  “Zabrina Fague without her gloves.”

  Nancy shook her head. “Not possible. I’ve lived here for years, and Zabrina has never been without her gloves.”

  “She was inside the new gentleman’s apartment.”

  “Mr. Steven Sandifer?”

  “You know his name?” Margot wondered.

  “I was chatting with Mr. Sandifer just the other day and…”

  “Nancy!”

  “It’s all innocent, Margot, I assure you.”

  Margot studied her friend’s flushed faced. “He is young enough to be our son.”

  “Yes, well, I haven’t said anything about your ridiculous crush on Detective Peter.”

  “My feelings for Peter are pure!” Margot drew herself up in a huff and sat down the slice of pie Nancy had insisted on serving her even though she had refused.

  “But you keep hoping for a murder case so you can see him again.”

  “How absurd!” Margot struggled to her feet. “If you’re going to insult me, Nancy, I should just go home and not share with you what I saw tonight.”

  “Margot, if you’re going to behave like a child at your age, then—”

  Meow! “Both of you are old as dirt. There.”

  Margot fell back into her seat, and Nancy sat down as well, fiddling with the coffee cup in her hands. She might not have heard Odds’ insult, but Margot knew his roar like a miniature lion spoke for itself. He had once quieted an entire room with that sound, and at the time she had been thankful and impressed.

  “I’m sorry, Margot,” Nancy mumbled.

  Margot looked at her. Nancy’s face was flushed. “It might shock you to know, Nancy, that I have a plan to find Peter a wife, so I am most certainly not hoping for his attention.”

  “And I was just being friendly,” she said.

  Margot hurried to her side and hugged her. “Of course you were, dear. I’m sorry too. I don’t know how to behave with a best friend.”

  Tears filled Nancy’s eyes. “You think of me as your best friend, Margot, an old useless thing like me?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Margot sniffed, feeling a little itch in her own throat. “What else would you be to me?”

  Odds made a sound as if he was coughing up a hairball. Margot was pretty sure it was on purpose. She glared at him. He turned his back.

  “Okay, tell me everything, Margot. Don’t leave anything out.”

  Margot moved back to her seat all excited to share. “Well, I’d gone up to the third floor to see that phenomenon you mentioned about that apartment looking like an alien invasion at night when I saw Zabrina pick Mr. Sandifer’s lock and go in.”

  “What do you mean picked?”

  Margot explained everything, and when she had gotten back to the most interesting part of her story, they both sat thinking in earnest about what it could mean.

  “I told you I think she’s a spy,” Nancy said. “And now you’ve uncovered her secret.”

  Margot frowned. “What secret? I don’t know anything more than I did before.”

  “But she thinks you do.”

  “Oh, no. Another old lady detective.”

  “Is that bad?” Margot didn’t comment on Odds’ rudeness.

  “Yes, haven’t you ever seen it on those television shows?”

  “At the moment, I don’t own a television.”

  Nancy blinked at her and then waved a hand. “The spies have to kill the people who find out about them.”

  Margot squeaked, and Nancy patted her knee.

  “Don’t you worry about anything, dear. I know the truth now, and if anything happens, you bet I’ll tell Peter about Zabrina. She won’t get away with it!”

  “Nancy, that gives me no comfort whatsoever.”

  Chapter Nine

  Margot pulled her feet from her slippers and climbed into bed. She stretched over to the bedside table and clicked the lamp off. After placing her eye mask over her eyes, which she found she couldn’t break herself of the habit of using, she lay back and sighed. The day had been an interesting one, and she looked forward to waking up in the morning and getting back to work.

  A few minutes later, Margot drifted off, and it seemed she’d been sleeping no more than an hour when a heavy weight on her chest roused her. Confused and exhausted, she pushed the mask up to peek out beneath it.

  Odds sat in the center of her chest. His cheekiness struck her dumb for a bit before she found her voice, and she opened her mouth to demand he get down. Odds moved faster than she would have believed possible and plopped down bodily on her face.

  Margot let out a muffled oof and reached up to drag him down. A sound in the living room made her freeze. Had she really heard movement out there, and was that why Odds kept her from speaking? She usually spoke out loud to him, but if someone were in her apartment, they might have been alerted.

  Heart pounding, Margot pulled the mask over her head and set it on the bedside table. She tried to recall where she had left the dollar store bat she had bought for her protection. In the hall closet, she thought with misery.

  Odds started toward the edge of the bed, but she clutched him to her chest.

  “We might be in trouble,” she whispered in his ear. “Don’t go out there.”

  Thank goodness she had decided to accept the extra expense of a cell phone. She reached for it in the dim lighting only to impact with air and the tabletop. Margot moaned.

  “Okay, Odds, we’ve got to be brave. You distract the perp, and I’ll get the bat. Then after I beat him over the head, we’ll call Peter.”

  Even in the low light, she saw his look of disbelief.

  “We can do this. Are you going to help or not?”

  A door opened, the creak of the hinges sounding loud in the quiet apartment. Margot winced. Her resolve wavered because she knew that squeak originated at the hall closet. That might mean the thief was working his way toward her bedroom. Fear kept her in the bed for a few moments, clutching Odds until he yowled in protest.

  When Margot let him go, Odds darted off the bed and disappeared through the narrow gap between the door and the jamb. She never shut it all the way because Odds liked to roam at night.

  “Be brave, Margot,” she murmured. There must
be something else heavy in the bedroom to use as a weapon. She eyed the lamp, but the antique ones she had brought from the mansion were too big and bulky to raise over her head.

  Margot crept to the door and tried to see into the hall. She realized the thief had moved back to the kitchen when she heard him open a drawer. Thoughts of all the weapons that could be used there came to mind, and her knees knocked together. Then her gaze fell on her purse, and she had a great idea.

  Being cheap paid. She eased her underwear/sock drawer open and removed one of the compression socks. Afterward, she held the sock open while she eased in all the change she had gathered over the last few weeks, saving every penny.

  Margot knotted the end of the sock against the ball of change and tried swinging the whole thing around. She giggled with glee at the prospect of bringing the bad guy down with a knock to his head.

  In the hall, with no windows close by, Margot found it to be darker. She wished she could flip on a light, but that might be more dangerous. Creeping down the hall, she strained to hear where the intruder might have gone, but she heard nothing.

  Her heart beat at a rapid tattoo with each step she took. Margot reached the closet and paused, but being that she had the coins, she felt safe enough to stick with them instead of getting out the bat. Imagining herself swinging around both the bat and the coins seemed a bit too much like television.

  Meow.

  Margot stilled. She swallowed several times, and Odds circled her legs. Every time she tried to step forward, he blocked her path.

  “Out of the way, you foolish cat,” she grumbled beneath her breath.

  Footsteps sounded in the kitchen. Margot panicked. She let out a battle cry and charged into the living room while swinging the money sack around and around. A flashback of her fight with Jimmy passed through her head, but she dismissed it as irrelevant. That had been a mistake. This was real danger.

  “Get out of my apartment,” she shouted.

  A shadow stirred. Someone streaked across her path on the way from the kitchen to the front door. Margot swung as hard as she could and felt greater strength than she had when she went after Jimmy. Walking the dogs had built up the muscles in her arms somewhat by hanging onto the leashes for dear life.

  Odds hissed. The person, who was several inches taller than Margot, stumbled and fell over the couch when her coins hit his arm. Margot chortled with glee and swung again. She misjudged the distance and the obstructions in her own path. When she went down, thank heavens she landed on the couch cushions rather than the floor. Her coin sock flew in another direction, while her face hit the couch seat.

  A bunch of coins hit something and then scattered everywhere. As Margot struggled to untangle her trembling limbs, the front door opened and closed. She groaned and rolled over then landed on the floor after all, between the couch and the coffee table.

  “Oh dear, Odds.” She winced in pain. “I think I might have broken something this time.”

  Odds’ tail tickled her nose.

  “I got him though. You can’t say I’m just a weak old lady now. I got him!”

  “Yeah,” he said in tone of acceptance, “you did.”

  She smiled, working to catch her breath.

  “Probably has a tiny bruise while you nearly broke your leg, but I mean…”

  Margot was tempted to use bad language, but she was too tired and closed her eyes to rest. She thought she heard steps in the hall and voices. Hopefully, it wasn’t the thief returning because she had nothing left.

  * * * *

  Margot examined the bandage on her wrist. She couldn’t believe it. Sprained. She had never sprained anything before, because she had never really gone anywhere or done anything that required the risk. The bandage was a badge of honor, and she stuck her chest out while Nancy fussed over her as she entered the apartment building at five in the morning.

  “Aw if it was a cast, we could have signed it, Ms. Margot,” Kenny said. His mother smacked the top of his head, and he ducked away from her.

  “Shouldn’t you be in bed, Kenny?” Margot asked.

  “Yes, he should,” his mother agreed, and her ordeal aside, Margot noticed the bags under the young woman’s eyes. She looked like she needed a lot more sleep herself.

  “Did you get a look at the guy’s face?” Jimmy asked.

  Nancy waved him off with an arm about Margot’s shoulders. “How about are you okay, Margot? You leave her alone, Jimmy Barber. No one needs you asking questions, unless it was you in her apartment.”

  Margot recalled Jimmy was one of Nancy’s least favorite people.

  Jimmy scowled and scratched his chest. As usual he only wore an undershirt, but Margot was used to it. “I was asking because I was worried, and I’m not a thief.”

  “So you didn’t try to hide stolen goods here?” Nancy pinned him with a look of disbelief, a curler dangling over one eye. She seemed not to notice.

  “They weren’t stolen!”

  “You two,” Wanda, Kenny and Dottie’s mother, interrupted. “Don’t you think Ms. Margot has been through enough? Shouldn’t she be allowed to get to her apartment to rest without you arguing over her?”

  “Oh dear.” Nancy squeezed Margot’s shoulder, causing her to wince. Her biceps were throbbing. “You’re right, Wanda. Come along, Margot. I’m going to fix you something to help you get to sleep.”

  Margot thanked everyone, her pride a bit deflated as exhaustion set in. She followed Nancy without complaint to the second floor and into her apartment. The lights were on, and Odds padded over as soon as she crossed the threshold. Yet, the sense of security she thought she had there was missing.

  “Sit down,” Nancy instructed, and I’ll make the tea.”

  Nancy returned to the living room a little while later with a steaming mug between her hands. Margot accepted it gratefully and took a tentative sip. Nancy watched over her like a mother hen.

  “Did Peter take your statement?” she asked as she sat beside Margot.

  Margot frowned. “The police did, but it wasn’t Peter. This wasn’t a homicide, Nancy. Thank heavens.”

  “Yes, thank goodness. You were very brave, dear. When Kenny came to knock on my door to tell me you were in trouble, I rushed out with my rolling pen.”

  Margot pressed her lips together. She imagined Nancy wouldn’t have fared much better than she did in the darkness. “Kenny did?”

  “Yes, if you can believe it Jimmy was the one to find you passed out on the floor.”

  Margot thought about this. She refused to jump to conclusions as she had done the last time. Of course Jimmy and Zabrina were on the same floor as she was. There was an apartment between them, but it wasn’t impossible for him to have heard the commotion. Especially since she had shouted bloody murder when she swung her sock of coins.

  “You know, Nancy,” she began, but a knock on the door interrupted her.

  Margot started to move, but Nancy held her back. “You sit. I’ll get it. Too early in the morning for visitors, and I imagine soon that tea will kick in and give you a nice cozy nap.”

  Nancy opened the door, and Margot started. “Peter, what are you doing here?”

  He smiled that crooked smile and strode in. She watched as his sharp gaze assessed her apartment. “I heard down at the station about what happened, Margot, and I wanted to come by to see how you are.”

  “That warms an old lady’s heart,” she said, “but you’re looking around as if you expect to see something important.”

  His blue gaze snapped to hers, and he grinned again. “No, just habit. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “It’s a little early for a house call.”

  “I was in the neighborhood, and I guess I could come back later.”

  “She’s grumpy in the morning. Ask me about suffering.”

  Margot bumped a pillow off the couch so it landed on Odds’ head. He scurried away.

  “Don’t be silly. Come in and sit down. We’ll discuss the case together.”


  Chapter Ten

  Peter took a seat in an armchair, and Nancy scurried about making him a cup of coffee. Margot studied his face. “Did you really come just to see how I’m doing, Peter? Or is it something else?”

  He smiled. “I can’t get anything past you, Margot.”

  “Oh, yes, our Margot is a smart cookie,” Nancy praised as she returned to the living room from the kitchen. “She’s ignorant of a lot of the regular stuff like coupons and using laundry detergent, but—”

  “Nancy!”

  Peter chuckled.

  “What? I was giving you a compliment.” Nancy threw up her hands as if frustrated to understand Margot’s annoyance. Margot, who shook in embarrassment, refused to explain it to her friend.

  Peter took a sip of his coffee and nodded in satisfaction. “I admit I came by on a hunch.”

  “The robbery,” Margot exclaimed. “You’re not convinced it was random?”

  “Not entirely, no. Something kept nagging at me, and I wanted to look farther into it. However, I have other cases on my desk just as urgent as the Olsen one.”

  Margot leaned toward him with eagerness. “What nagged at you?”

  Peter didn’t answer right away, and while she hadn’t known him long, she recognized that stubbornness he sometimes displayed. He wasn’t ready to share all he knew. Maybe he never would.

  “Tell me about your experience, Margot, if you don’t mind.”

  She sighed and almost felt like pouting the way Nancy was prone to do. “If you’re thinking it has anything to do with your case, Peter dear, you are wrong. I know—” She fell silent.

  “I said no such thing,” he said. His eyes narrowed. “What do you know, Margot?”

  “That—”

  Nancy grabbed her arm, and Odds brushed her ankles. Really, were they both trying to silence her? Was she making a mistake thinking Zabrina had broken into her apartment? After all it had happened right after she had been seen breaking into Steven Sandifer’s place. Goodness, was the building full of thieves then? Was she safe here?