Danny picked up one of my copies and looked it over. “Oh no,” he groaned. “You’ve started another story. You think you’ll ever finish one?”
Sometimes no response is the best response. “By the way, how did you happen to get Sondra’s email?” I asked.
“What do you mean, how’d I get it? How does anyone get anyone’s email? I asked her for it.”
“Why? Why did you want her email?” It was a stupid question since obviously there probably wasn’t a man alive ––or dead–– who wouldn’t want Sondra’s email.
“Say, what’s with the third degree? If you must know, when I admired her car, she asked me to send her the name of my auto repair guy. Just for the record, Izzy, did anyone ever tell you that curiosity killed the cat?”
Before I could come up with a response, Dr. Linda and Yettah entered the room. Nate trailed behind them, loudly complaining about the “worst traffic I ever saw.” A few minutes later Minna straggled in, followed by Frank who took the seat next to me.
“I have a wonderful surprise for you,” Dr Linda announced. Her face literally beamed with pleasure. “The Senior Center board has voted to fund the printing of the book of our short stories so it won’t cost us any money.”
A loud cheer went up from the group.
“I can’t believe that we’ll be published authors,” Minna said. “I’ll be famous.”
“Yeah, and you’ll also be President of the United States,” Danny retorted.
Minna mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like ‘asshole.’
“The books will be used as a fundraiser for the center,” Dr. Linda continued.
“What? The center gets the money from our hard work?” Nate said. “We don’t get anything?”
“Only the glory and fame,” Danny sneered.
Dr. Linda ignored the interruption. “Choose four or five of your best stories and I’ll go over them for spelling and punctuation. So get hopping, folks. Go through your files, find your best stories or write new ones. You’re about to become published authors.”
The class rose as one to their feet and applauded loudly. Except for Danny who made a loud whistling sound, shattering my eardrum.
Dr. Linda raised her hand for quiet. “Oh and one more thing, I’d like you to think about which restaurant we should go to for dinner to celebrate when the book is published.”
She had said the magic word. Dinner! Which set everyone off again.
“I say we go to the early bird at Flemings to save money.”
“Can’t be too early for me. I’m ready for dinner as soon as I finish lunch.”
“They don’t give senior discounts.”
“Don’t be silly. All the places in the desert give senior discounts.”
“Applebee’s doesn’t.”
“Who’s talking Applebees?”
“I say we pick a place that gives the most food for the money.”
“Right, and come away with food poisoning.”
“Who’s talking food poisoning?”
Dr. Linda waved her hand. “Class, please, I think we can decide which restaurant at a later date. Let’s not forget our first priority is to get our stories in good order so they’re ready for publication.”
“I have an idea,” Frank said.
Frank’s comment took me by surprise since he’d always seemed to be focused on his novel. He never participated in the usual classroom chitchat and gossip.
“If no one objects we could have the party at my house. That is, if someone will give me a helping hand. I’m afraid I’m out of practice at throwing parties.”
“I’ll help,” Yettah said.
“Me too,” Minna piped up, obviously not to be outdone by Yettah.
Frank leaned over and whispered, “Izzy, hopefully you’ll help by keeping those two under control.”
Yettah gave him an angry look. “I heard that.”
“I was serious about your helping me with the party,” Frank said as we left the classroom, trailed closely by the other members who didn’t want to miss anything. “Of course I admit it’s really just an excuse to see more of you.”
I didn’t know what to say so I gave him what I hoped was a dazzling smile.
“I mean it, Izzy. I really enjoyed your company at the Meat Market and thought maybe we could do it again.”
I heard Danny grumble something that I couldn’t quite make out. And Minna, who couldn’t miss an opportunity to make trouble said, “Say, Izzy, what’s with Merv? The gossip is you two hooked up again. True or false?”
I shot her an angry glare wondering where she’d heard about our date. But then news travels fast in Palm Springs.
“Yes,” I looked at Frank and smiled, “ I’d love to go out with you again.”
“Then how about tonight?”
I could feel not only Frank but the entire group awaiting my answer. I also knew it would probably make its way back to Merv so I was tempted to accept. After all, I hadn’t heard from him in days and a little jealousy might be what he needed. But alas, I remembered that I already had other plans.
“I wish I could, Frank, but unfortunately not tonight. This evening Norma Corwin, an old friend, is throwing a party but I’d love to another time.
“Lucky you,” Danny said, “you’ll get to see Norma’s new place. I heard it’s really something.”
I pulled out of the Senior Center parking lot and headed toward my condo, stopping first at the liquor store to pick up a bottle of champagne to bring to Norma’s divorce shower that evening. I wouldn’t have minded going out with Frank instead but this wasn’t a time to be selfish. Norma would need all the support she could get to recover from her recent nasty divorce proceedings. Though I had no doubt her two and a half million dollar house, and 10 million dollar settlement would support her pretty nicely.
As I passed by the new strip mall, I spotted the sign, Charlotte’s Toy Shop, and figured I’d pick up a little shower gift for Norma.
I’d no sooner pulled into my garage when Merv called. Against my better judgement, I picked up––though only on the third ring.
“You’re probably angry with me but just hear me out. I was called out of town. My last remaining uncle in Minneapolis had a stroke.”
Short of asking him if I could see his airline stub I had no way to check if he was telling the truth.
“Iz, I was wondering if you’d like to go for dinner this evening. I could use a break from all the traveling and tension.”
Luckily I already had plans, otherwise I might be tempted to go out with him that evening even though I knew in my heart of hearts that I shouldn’t rush back into things—meaning his arms or his bed.
“Sorry, not tonight, Merv. I’m going to Norma Corwin’s divorce shower. Try me again though.”
I took a leisurely shower, ran the blow dryer over my hair and gave it a good fluffing to cover the gray roots. I wished I hadn’t been so lax in making an appointment for color.
Then came the hard part: deciding what to wear. White seemed much too bridal and might remind Norma of her wedding, which might depress her even more. A divorce party is all well and good, but don’t tell me you’re not a little depressed when your seventy-two year old husband runs off with some twenty eight year old harlot.
Black might be appropriate but might not be in keeping with the theme of the party––a divorce shower. Then it hit me––the red silk sleeveless dress that had been hanging in the back of my closet for almost ten years. It was undoubtedly the most glamorous dress I owned and I’d been saving it for the perfect occasion. I pulled it out, gave it a good shake while trying not to breathe in the dust.
Stepping into it, I found myself engaged in a violent struggle to pull it past my hips. That, however, was nothing compared to my battle to zip up the back. Finally succeeding, I slipped on a pair of black heels, and checked myself in the mirror. Not bad, I thought as I rubbed off some of the blush that made me look like an aging hooker.
I slipped t
he bottle of champagne into a gift bag along with the little gift from Charlotte’s and rushed out the door. I didn’t want to miss a moment of the gossip or any of the fabulous mimosas Norma was famous for.
Chapter 20
Norma and her husband had lived two condos down from me for five years before buying a magnificent home in the upscale Mountain Top Estates.
He and Norma had no sooner moved into their magnificent new home when he up and left her and their mountaintop aerie, for a hot exotic dancer that he’d met at the Naughty ‘N Nice Nightclub in Palm Springs. Unbeknownst to Norma, he’d been secretly frequenting the establishment for years.
Though I was excited to see her house, Norma’s party invitation had unfortunately omitted a description of the harrowing drop offs on the road leading to her Mountain Top house. Though I probably should have deduced it from the name.
I drove slowly up the winding road swearing at myself for not making plans to go with Flo, who had left earlier to help with the decorations. It seemed I had, once again, managed to get myself entangled in another harrowing mountainside expedition. On a scale of 1 to 10, ten being the worst, this drive rated a twenty.
What the heck. First chance I got, I’d turn around and head back home before I went any higher. I’d call Norma and tell her that I wasn’t feeling well—which was becoming truer and truer the higher I went.
Unfortunately though, there didn’t seem to be anywhere to turn around and I found myself going higher and higher up the mountain road until I ended up in Norma’s driveway.
Getting out of the car, I paused to take in the breathtaking view of the valley below. I decided I might as well put the trip back home out of mind––at least for the time being––and enjoy myself at the party.
Norma, looking like a beaming bride, greeted me at the door. No sign of depression that I could detect and looking at her house I could see why. The home was a modern wonder of glass and stone. The kind of home that would be featured in Architectural Digest. The kind of home I would kill for.
I handed her the bottle of champagne and congratulated her on her divorce, then entered the auditorium sized living room. Flo and the other women who were milling about drinking champagne obviously had the same idea I did. They were all wearing red. I added my gift to the pile on the side table and was about to head to the buffet when Norma came up and offered to give me a personal tour of her home. Not wanting to appear rude I agreed, hoping the food wouldn’t be gone before I got back.
I wore myself out oohing and aahing over the endless rooms, the original paintings, oriental rugs and mile high ceilings. Though I couldn’t help wondering how on earth anyone could get the cobwebs off such high ceilings.
Then I headed for the buffet table.
Norma had outdone herself. The spread would do any wedding or Bar Mitzvah proud.
I filled my plate and settled on the couch to watch as Norma began to open her gifts. It seemed everyone had the same original idea I had––Norma now had enough crotchless panties to last the rest of her life.
Then the moment arrived that we’d all been waiting for––the cake. At least I’d been waiting for it. It had three layers, two chocolate, one vanilla covered in white icing and topped off by a small bride, a tiny knife taped to her hand, hovering over the supine body of the equally small groom lying in a pool of red dye.
Everyone applauded happily as Norma cut into it with a vengeance.
Chapter 21
He stood in the brush watching through the window. The guests were all gathered around the cake applauding and he knew that now was the time. He put on his surgical gloves, searched out her car. Then he struggled to maneuver his way under it.
He felt a sudden spasm in his back but there was no stopping now.
Using his wrench he removed the cap and drained the brake fluid into a can. He paused, then cut the brake line. He replaced the cap and returned to his car, wishing he could stick around and watch the accident. But he couldn’t risk that. He’d go home and have a couple of shots of whisky. And celebrate the demise of Izzy Greene.
Chapter 22
I checked my watch. It was getting late but I certainly wasn’t going to leave before hearing all the latest gossip.
Then finally the climax of the party! Norma brought out the bridal cap and veil she’d worn on her wedding day. After some unintelligible incantation she threw it into the fireplace. Of course it was summer so the fireplace wasn’t lit but nonetheless we all got the idea and cheered her on with cries of, ‘You go, girl!’
Then Norma popped the champagne cork which reminded me that I had the harrowing drive back down the mountain road. I decided to skip the alcohol and head home. “I have to leave,” I announced, “I’m nervous about the drive home.”
Norma saw me to the door and told me how sorry she was that I was leaving early. I told her I was sorry also. Then I gave her a kiss on the cheek and offered my congratulations on her unwedding. “You’ll do just fine,” I added though she didn’t seem to need my encouragement.
As I made my way to the car, I was struck by how pitch black the night was, despite a sky studded with giant twinkling diamonds––diamonds as big and sparkly as Norma’s non-engagement ring which she’d bought for herself after the divorce.
I turned on the engine, flipped on my brights and slowly pulled out of the driveway. Yes, Norma had divorced well, but as amazing as her place was, it was too quiet and secluded for my taste. I couldn’t wait to get down to ground level and back to my own simple condo.
I nervously leaned forward in my seat and started to inch my way down, my eyes glued to the road ahead. “Just take it slow and easy and soon you’ll be home and in bed,” I said to calm myself.
As I was ruminating that it was too bad that Norma hadn’t suggested I take home a piece of cake, it occurred to me that the car was going too fast. Which was strange since I was barely touching the accelerator. I shifted my foot to the brake but the car didn’t slow. I pounded the brake but instead of slowing down, it sped up. I pressed harder. Nothing. I leaned my full weight into the brake. I couldn’t believe it.
My worst nightmare was coming true! The car sped down the winding road even faster. I could barely breathe. The car sped up even more! I was screeching around tight curves— it was all I could do to keep control of the wheel. My ears were pounding. I couldn’t think clearly. Clutching the wheel, I jammed my foot as hard as I could on the brakes. It didn’t stop. The lights of Palm Springs came closer. I was about to hit traffic. I pounded the brake. Praying the car would stop.
As I barreled down the incline, the road suddenly opened out onto a flat desert area. Instinctively I gave the wheel a sharp turn to the right and smashed through the guard rail. The car bounced over the rocky terrain. I could barely hang on to the wheel.
A hard bump. And my car came to a sudden stop.
I sat frozen. Immobilized. My hands were glued to the wheel and it felt like I would never let go. My heart was beating like there was no tomorrow. Which there almost wasn’t.
But I was alive and in one piece. And in fairly good shape. At least from my point of view.
I turned off the engine and burst into tears.
When I was able to calm down enough to think rationally, I reached for my bag which had spilled out onto the floor. I unbuckled my seat belt and searched blindly around the floor for my cell, finally finding it underneath the passenger seat. I managed to calm myself down and dialed Merv’s cell. “Come on, come on,” I prodded tearfully. “Pick up.” When he didn’t answer, I dialed AAA and gave them as coherent a description as I could of my whereabouts and asked them to send a tow truck.
I made sure my doors were locked, then I sat back and waited, and listened to the frightening and strange howls that interrupted the desert silence. A coyote. Or more likely, many coyotes. What else was out there in the dark? I tried not to think about the snakes and spiders and other critters, especially any two-legged ones, prowling the desert floor.
&
nbsp; I tried Merv’s cell again. He still didn’t answer so I called Flo. When she didn’t pick up, I left her a garbled description as to where I was. “Oh, and by the way, if anything happens to me you can have my two carat diamond engagement ring. It’s hidden in the empty jar of Olay face cream under the bathroom sink. It’s probably an antique by now so take good care of it.”
I was about to try Merv again, when I saw the bright lights of the tow truck. Now if the driver wasn’t some crazed killer, I was in luck.
The phone woke me early the next morning. “I’m so sorry, Izzy but I didn’t see that you’d called until now,” Flo said.
“I guess you were too busy having a good time last night,” I said, making no effort to hide the bitterness in my voice.
“I had a fabulous time!” she exclaimed. “You shouldn’t have left when you did.”
“I shouldn’t have gone at all,” I corrected her.
“The party really got going after you left, Iz,” She was obviously still basking in the party’s afterglow. “You would have loved it. Norma had hired The Nude Dude for the occasion. What a hunk! Once he got going, the party got so raucus, what with all the yelling and screaming, that I couldn’t hear myself think. So what happened with your car?”
“Thanks for asking.” I said, then launched into a description of my night of horror.
“Oh my goodness, is there anything I can do to help you out?”
“Yeah, you can drive me to Tony’s Repair Shop later today to pick up my car.”
“By the way,” she said, “were you serious about leaving me your charm bracelet?”
I hung up.
I staggered into the kitchen. Every muscle in my body felt like it had endured a heavy workout at the gym—not that I’d know anything about that. But at least I was alive. A fact which I decided to celebrate with the two frozen mocha filled chocolate cupcakes that I found buried in the freezer.
Sylvia Selfman - Izzy Greene 01 - Murder She Typed Page 8