Too Close For Comfort (Samantha Jamison Mystery Book 9)

by Peggy A. Edelheit

  “Do you know anything about their backgrounds?”

  “You know I can’t give personal information,” he said.

  “Can you at least tell me is there anything about them that has raised suspicions on your part?” I asked.

  “Regarding what?” Phil asked.

  “If a doctor recommended them, maybe an unusual way of paying you, anything that jumps to the forefront about either one of them. That sort of thing.”

  Phil considered my suggestions. “Now that you mention it, both were not recommended by a doctor. No RX.”

  “You do therapy for people on a private pay basis?”

  “It doesn’t happen often, but yes, I do. If they are willing to pay the tariff, I do accept people for minor ailments.”

  “One more thing. How long has each one been coming to you for physical therapy?”

  Phil paused a beat then said, “Since you’ve raised some questions about the two, some things now appear odd.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “Neither of them came on the scene until after you did.”

  “In all honesty, Phil, I must tell you that one of them may be a legit patient, but I’m not sure which one at this point.”

  Phil smiled. “So in the meantime, you would appreciate I keep an eye out for any abnormalities in their behavior?”

  “I would greatly appreciate any crumb you can offer.”

  “Just one favor I have to ask in return,” said Phil.

  “What is that? I asked.

  “I want a signed copy when this mystery is published.”

  Chapter 46

  An Unexpected Turn Of Events

  After meeting with Phil, I went for another physical therapy session at the rehab center. When I got home, everyone was sitting around the table, talking about who might have written that ransom note and left the journal in my car. What might or might not be solvable at this point.

  I poured myself a cup of coffee and related what Phil and I had talked about in Peddler’s Village at Giggleberry Fair.

  “That’s noteworthy,” said Hazel.

  “And adds an additional element to this case,” I said.

  “By both showing up at the same time,” said Martha.

  “And since we’re not sure who at this point,” said Betty, “either one of them could be involved.”

  “Both began their physical therapy after Sam started going there for hers,” Hazel noted in her digital tablet.

  “And both stopped going to rehab at the same time for no explainable reason,” added Betty.

  “Maybe both of them are involved in whatever is going on,” posed Tony.

  We turned to him.

  “It seems highly unlikely, but you never know,” I said.

  “Anne was a short-term rental at that house,” said Hazel.

  “And Marilyn’s picture was spotted on Bill’s mantle by Tony,” I added.

  Tony shrugged. “It’s a toss-up, either way you look at it.”

  “The big question is how and why?” asked Martha.

  “How are these incidents and people connected and for what reason?” I asked.

  Martha suddenly sat upright when she heard the ding of a text. She read it then hit Siri on her iPhone and said, “Thanks, Rex.” Then she hit send and grinned broadly.

  “What was that about?” I asked hopefully.

  “A friend of mine delved into Bill’s original marriage certificate. You remember his wife, Mary, the one who died about ten years ago?”

  We all answered simultaneously, “Yes.”

  “Guess what?” she asked us.

  Hazel nudged her. “Come on, out with it.”

  Martha leaned back and smiled. “Her maiden name was Marilyn Chambers.”

  “Well, what do you know!” said Betty.

  “That’s not all,” said Martha still grinning.

  “Keep talking,” ordered Tony.

  I cut in. “She must’ve preferred Mary to Marilyn before she got married and changed her last name.”

  “Yes and no!” replied Martha.

  “I’m not following,” said Hazel.

  “She apparently used Mary,” said Martha, laughing, “as a shortened version of Marilyn, and she never changed her last name to Bill’s. She kept her maiden name of Marilyn Chambers. That’s why we couldn’t connect the dots on half of this real estate purchase until we dug deeper.”

  “Well, this makes more sense now,” I said.

  “So both Bill and Marilyn own that rental?” said Tony.

  “Rex found an old article that reported Mary fell from a cruise ship in the Bahamas ten years ago,” Martha added.

  “Which confirms how she died,” said Tony.

  “And since she’s definitely dead...” said Hazel.

  “It means there are two women named Marilyn,” I said.

  “And now we’re down to just one,” said Martha.

  “Let’s not forget that real estate deal,” said Tony.

  “What was the purpose of owning both houses in the first place?” Betty asked.

  “That means it reverted from her estate over to Bill’s,” I said.

  “There’s one snafu all of you haven’t considered folks,” said Martha after a beat.

  We all turned to her.

  Martha slumped back in her seat. “You’re right. We looked up the old marriage certificate and found Mary’s maiden name. And she could’ve bought that house with Bill then died on that cruise ship. Then you would assume the deed would’ve been updated by now to Bill, right?”

  I frowned. “I hear a but in there somewhere.”

  “But it wasn’t updated and changed,” finished Martha.

  “Which begs the question, why wasn’t the deed on that old rental updated,” Hazel said.

  “Plus, Betty asked a great question too,” I said. “Why own both houses in the first place?”

  “Well, we know one thing, Sam,” said Tony.

  “And what is that?” I asked him.

  “You now know who found your journal, don’t you?”

  Another moment of silence stretched out.

  “We sure do, don’t we?” I finally said. “Bill did. But I’m still in the dark as to why and are we sure he’s the one who left it in my car with the threatening note?”

  Chapter 47

  Digging Deeper

  We all got busy trying to figure some angle, any angle that might help find anything we could about clients at the rehab center, Marilyn, and any kind of rumor regarding that fateful cruise ship Mary fell from. I hit the search engines looking for any information about Mary’s death ten years ago to find the insurance carrier involved and if any kind of payout was made. But I recalled the HIPPA privacy law might not apply now and this all may be a matter of public record. I figured everything was probably settled by now, but that still left the unsettled deed issue on that rental house. Why?

  There had to be something out there we weren’t latching onto that was most likely staring us right in the face. It was obvious that none of us paid it any attention or gave it serious consideration or we would have caught it by now.

  I was drumming my fingers on my desk and staring at my laptop screen in a trance when Tony approached.

  “Phone call for you, Sam. Said his name’s Phil and he’s from your rehab center.”

  I was surprised he was calling me, but not on the land line. He made sure he had both that and my cell phone on record because he heard me always complaining about sketchy signals, depending on where I was in the house.

  I nodded and he handed me the house phone. “Phil? Is everything okay? This is a first, you calling me. Usually it’s me calling you, trying to change my appointment. What can I do for you?”

  When Phil hesitated, I felt his unease travel through the phone line before he even spoke.

  “...I can’t believe I’m standing at a public phone a mile away from my rehab center, calling you with information.”

  Information?


  This was music to my ears and I came to full attention on high alert. “What might that be?” I asked, hopefully.

  “You didn’t hear this from me, okay?” he said tensely.

  “Agreed.”

  “I thought about what you divulged to me. This whole thing disturbs me. I figured that since you already knew the full name of Anne Baxter then it wouldn’t hurt if you knew the last name of Marilyn. It might help you solve this.”

  I gripped the phone tighter in disbelief when he gave me her last name and was momentarily speechless.

  ...Marilyn Chambers?

  I already knew the chances of two Marilyns surfacing in this mystery was a stretch, but the same last name too? This confirmed my skepticism about this from the get-go.

  This was crazy.

  “Sam, are you still there?”

  “Yes, yes, I heard you. I appreciate your help, Phil.”

  “Hey, I’ve got to go. I feel like a spy working covertly,” he finally said, chuckling. “Minus the trench coat.”

  I laughed also. “You’re a good one too. Thanks, Phil.”

  After I hung up, the whole group was peering at me with impatience, antsy, waiting to be enlightened. I guess they already heard from Tony who had phoned.

  “Okay,” said Martha. “Out with it.”

  I was still taken back by what Phil told me. “He filled me in on what I figured was a big lie from the beginning.”

  “What?” Tony asked, leaning in.

  “He wanted to help and gave me Marilyn’s last name.”

  “And it’s....?” Martha asked impatiently.

  I glanced up at them. “It’s Marilyn Chambers!”

  Chapter 48

  Relaxing Reconnaissance

  Tony leaned toward me with both of his hands, gripping each armrest of my desk chair. “I think you deserve a night out on the town, young lady. What do you say?”

  I knew what he was trying to pull. He’s annoyed that I know Marilyn’s last name and is trying to distract me from more probing that could prove to be dangerous.

  “Tony, I’m not in the mood for any of your romancing. This case is bugging me, driving me crazy,” I argued.

  “But that’s the whole point of taking you out on a night out on the town. Besides I have something particular to say to you and don’t want the other ladies to hear.”

  My ears perked up. Was he trying to romance me? Or did he know something important related to this mystery and wanted to confide in me? “And that point is?”

  “Forget the romancing bit. You need to take a step back from all this to recharge, get better perspective.”

  Should I believe him? My curiosity was killing me.

  I sighed. “I know I need to take a step back. But I don’t know what going out with you will do to help gain better perspective on this quagmire.”

  He humorously feigned being hurt, his mouth curving downward. “How can you possibly say no to this good-looking face, a free dinner, some chilled wine at a restaurant with club booths, and live jazz playing in the background? ...Oh, I almost forgot to mention, it’s Earl’s.”

  “You rat!” I said in mock reproach. “You know how much I love their food and the atmosphere there.”

  Earl’s Bucks County was located in Peddler’s Village in Lahaska, a five-minute drive away. The restaurant is known for its high standards and American cuisine and serves a rich diversity from the Bucks County region. The locals knew they used the very best ingredients that are naturally grown and raised on local sustainable farms, fisheries and ranches. Only the best seasonal foods were selected for their to-die-for menu.

  “I don’t know...” I said, indecisively and weakening, trying not to give the real reason for going. But was it the scrumptious menu or my scrumptious dinner date?

  “Consider this a celebration,” he whispered.

  His eyes snared mine.

  His mouth was tantalizingly close.

  I hadn’t noticed that cute dimple before.

  “A celebration? So what’s to celebrate? Am I missing something here? Because all I’m feeling is frustration.”

  “I could say the same thing,” he whispered, coming even closer.

  “I’m referring to this mystery,” I replied, edging back a little from him and his physical magnetism.

  That cologne...

  Focus, girl. Focus.

  “Come on,” he pleaded, then grinned. “Wait. Don’t tell me. I bet you’re afraid you might actually enjoy yourself.”

  Little did he know that’s not what I was afraid of.

  I cleared my throat. I had to woman-up and take charge. Did he really think using Earl’s as bait to go out to dinner with him would work with me? Why, I had other...

  But that food was so good.

  “...Okay, okay, I guess a little dinner shouldn’t hurt.”

  “There’s only one stipulation for our dinner out.”

  “I knew it,” I shot back. “What’s the catch?”

  “Since we’re celebrating, I want to dress up for a classy restaurant and a straight-up, classy broad.”

  I laughed, flattered by Tony trying to cheer me up and figured, what the heck, an elegant night out might be good.

  Apparently, Martha had just rounded the corner and caught his last words. Grinning, she said, “And I know just the dress you should wear.”

  Tony winked at Martha then at me. “I hope it’s red.”

  I was almost that color already from blushing.

  “Why red?” I asked, now flustered by all the attention.

  “It’s a hot color for a hot date,” he said, walking away.

  Martha was fanning herself and laughing in response.

  Chapter 49

  Red Hot Momma

  I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my room, turning this way and that. “I don’t know about this red dress. It dips awful low in the back almost to my waist and clings like scotch tape over the rest of me.”

  “Trust me,” said Martha, chuckling. “It dips and clings in all the right places.”

  “Very feminine,” said Hazel, admiring my image.

  Martha, Hazel, and Betty were fussing over me as I got ready for my cheering-up night out at Earl’s. I had pinned up my long blonde hair then unpinned it to let it fall passed my shoulders several times. I couldn’t make up my mind which way to wear it, up or down.

  “One minute I’m hot with my hair down and the next minute I’m chilly with it pinned up. Maybe I should forget going out tonight in this red silk, backless dress.”

  “I’d say it’s hot flashes, Sam, but you only being in your thirties, you’re too young,” said an amused Martha.

  “It’s just nerves,” explained Betty reassuringly.

  “Just remember who you’re with,” warned Hazel.

  “Look,” said Betty. “Wear your hair down and if you get hot, lift it a little to let the air cool you down then let it go. Take along some pins to use if it gets too much.”

  “She’s right, Sam,” said Hazel. “It looks prettier down.”

  “And with those red heels, you’re a hot number,” added Martha, giving me a final nod of approval.

  I was still doubtful. “But what if my top slips in front?”

  Martha handed me some scotch tape. “Here, put some in your purse. If it starts to slip, tape it to you.”

  Betty chuckled. “Relax and enjoy yourself, dear.”

  “We’ll wait up to hear all about it,” said Betty.

  “Not about the food,” laughed Hazel. “The hot date.”

  “If I were a betting woman, I take bets on tonight’s outcome,” said Martha, eyeing me up and down, smirking.

  “What odds?” said Hazel, now focusing on Martha.

  “Can I get in on this?” asked Betty, going for her purse.

  With my hands on my hips, I glared at the three of them.

  “You’re taking bets on what will happen with Tony?”

  “Why not?” asked Martha, surprised by my s
tance.

  “I’m on your side,” offered Hazel innocently.

  “Hazel and I are betting for you,” Betty emphasized.

  “Look, Sam, this is not the prom,” cracked Martha.

  “Yeah, then why do I feel like my reputation is being taken to the cleaners by you three on all this betting.”

  Martha just shook her head, grinning wickedly. “Ha!”

  “Don’t you trust Tony?” I asked her.

  She laughed. “I don’t trust you!”

  Then Martha laughed again, counted the cash that was quickly exchanging hands between the three of them.

  “Come home to momma, baby,” she said, gleefully.

  Chapter 50

  My Definition Of A Date: The Unexpected

  Tony’s gray Bentley hummed smoothly down the road, while I scanned the plush leather and luxurious interior.

  He usually drove an SUV. Where did he get this car?

  As though reading my thoughts, he laughed.

  “I requested a classy car for a classy dame and...”

  “...got one!” I said, finishing for this unpredictable guy, who was an enigma I’d never figure out nor did I want to.

  As usual, people were lingering along the storefronts in Peddler’s Village, peeking in at all the window displays or walking to other restaurants sprinkled throughout the charming tourist village. Foot traffic was still busy from an art festival that had been held earlier that day.

  Our reserved club booth at Earl’s was on the flip side of the bar seating area. We heard the jazz trio playing beyond the stored, chilled wine bottles and mirrors separating the two areas. There were two sets of steps at each end, leading up our club booth seating area. We were located in the corner booth, which allowed us a semi-view of the crowded bar and some of its occupants who were seated around it. Behind us was a solid wall that separated our area from another dining area, all with linen-topped tables and draped windows looking out at the busy street of the village.

  When I unwrapped my lightweight, full-length cape and handed it to Tony, he whistled low, while taking me all in.