Murder at Catmmando Mountain Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery #1 (Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery Series)

by Anna Celeste Burke

  “What’s going on in here, Jessica?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” Jessica replied feeling like a 15-year-old again.

  “It doesn’t look like nothing to me.” Spreading her elbows out, like a mother eagle’s wings, Bernadette puffed herself up so she looked twice her size. Her black eyes blazed; her nose beaklike. “You going to ‘splain it?”

  “It, it... it’s okay Mrs. B,” Tommy said, trying to sound reassuring in the midst of a terrified stutter. He’d known Bernadette almost as long as Jessica had.

  “Oh, it is definitely not okay,” she said shaking her head. As she continued to speak, she pointed at each one in the room. “Not for you, Tommy, or for you, Jessica, or for you, Brien Anthony Williams.”

  “Uh oh,” Jessica muttered. When she used all three names, you were in big trouble.

  “Hey, be cool, Mrs. B, please. I can explain. It’s not what you think, honest. I need this job. I’m saving for a surf safari to the north shore.” Brien looked even younger than Jessica first thought as he pleaded his case. “Honest, nothing really happened. She’s not even my type, Mrs. B. No offense, Jess.”

  Jessica shot him a dirty look, not his type, huh? “Nobody calls me Jess, Brien.”

  “Uh, sorry, Jessica,” he said with emphasis on the “ca.”

  “He’s right, Bernadette,” Tommy interjected. “Jessica had a lot to drink at her divorce party last night. We all got carried away celebrating her, uh, liberation. We ran into Brien at Costa’s and he joined the party. When it was time to go, he helped me get Jessica back into the limo and home. We didn’t want to wake you up.” He shrank back a little farther from the door under the pressure of Bernadette’s gaze.

  “Divorce party, bah! Dios dame paciencia! What about all this mess? And why don’t you have any clothes on?”

  “We were hungry, so we brought food home, and then we had a little more to drink when we got here. Who could let chilled Cristal go to waste? We cleaned out the limo and came in here to finish it. Jessica tore her own clothes off, honest. That’s all that happened, I swear, Bernadette. I’m not Brien’s type either.” Tommy’s head slumped back down on the edge of the bed.

  “That’s totally the truth, Mrs. B,” Brien added with great sincerity. “Not that Jessica isn’t bangin’, I mean, for an older babe. I’m not denying I had some feelings when I saw her in that black dress, but she was doke, you know, whacked? She was out of it by the time we got her home. I don’t take advantage, and I don’t mix business with pleasure.” He shook his head emphatically with that last remark, reaching up to push back the lock of blond hair that had fallen in his face.

  Bernadette still looked skeptical but let it go. She took another look around the room and asked, “Who do you think will clean this up? Me? Not me, I’m finishing my coffee. The maid? Uh-uh. Jessica you’ll fix this, right? Go home Tommy. Go home Brien.”

  Jessica nodded in agreement. Nodding her head reminded her that the world had not yet receded from spin mode.

  Bernadette stepped out of the room mumbling in both English and Spanish. Jessica could make out the words “Sodom and Gomorrah” but little else as Bernadette crossed herself and closed the door behind her. She didn’t slam it, but shut the door with enough force to make the three of them pay. They all winced. Once Bernadette left it was as if the oxygen had returned to the room. Released from her grip, they all moved, although not too fast. Tommy pulled himself up off his knees. Like Brien, he too was wearing only his boxer shorts. Unlike Brien, Tommy’s shorts sported colorful firework patterns set against a navy background.

  You have to love a guy like that, Jessica thought. She did.

  Tommy was the younger brother of Jessica’s closest childhood friend, Kelly Fontana. During high school he was always around, doing all the things younger brothers do to be annoying. Not too long after Jessica went off to college in the OC she learned that Kelly died in a hit-and-run accident. Her death left Tommy and his parents devastated. He stayed on to care for his parents and still lived in their casita, a tiny but nice guest house. At some point, during her visits to the desert and his visits to the OC, she and Tommy had sort of adopted each other. He became the little brother she never had, and she stepped in for Kelly. It wasn’t always clear who looked out for whom, but they had forged a strong bond.

  While the guys searched for missing articles of clothing and dressed, Jessica pulled on a robe. Then she picked up the garbage and straightened the room. She still wobbled on her feet, and those food containers brought on a new wave of nausea, but she kept moving. Jessica wanted to be alone and get out of the frigging Spanx that were riding up her ass every time she bent over. She needed a shower and coffee. Or, maybe she should just crawl back into bed and pull the covers up over her head for at least a week.

  Jessica knew better. First, she had to set things right in the room or there would be hell to pay from Bernadette. Who was she kidding? There would be hell to pay no matter what. What else could you expect when you move back home and act like a delinquent?

  The “older babe” comment still stung because it was true. At thirty-three Jessica was no kid. It wasn’t like she had one foot in the grave, either. As if on cue, a stabbing pain shot up her spine and rattled her brain as she bent over to pick up her ripped dress. Jessica stood up, stretched her back, and stuffed the dress in the trash can she had retrieved from a corner of the bedroom.

  She needed to change her ways. No more bar hopping. It was time to get serious about swimming and working out. Her shrink in Cupertino assured her exercise would help with the panic attacks. She’d look better the next time she got caught in nothing but her Spanx. Not that such a thing was likely to happen again. In fact, she still wasn’t sure how it had happened this time.

  “Hey, how did we all end up with so few clothes on?” Jessica asked.

  Tommy looked up as he pulled on his t-shirt. “At first we were all sitting on the floor, stuffing our faces with nachos and downing the Cristal. We each had our own bottle.”

  “Yeah, it was awesome,” Brien added.

  “You slopped something on the dress, Jessica. At first you giggled, and then you just went nuts. Saying all kinds of crazy stuff, like how disgusting it is to be a luxury slut. I wasn’t sure if you were talking about me or you. Ranting about designer clothes and shoes being a rip off, you picked up one of those divine shoes and hurled it across the room,” Tommy explained.

  “Yeah, I ducked just in time,” Brien said.

  “Then you stood up and ripped at the hooks on the front of your dress until it dropped down around your ankles. We laughed until you pointed at us saying ‘take it off or I’ll tear it off.’ It was sort of psycho and sort of like you were about to cry. So we stripped down to our boxers,” Tommy added.

  “I didn’t want you to trash my Gucci botanic pants or this gorgeous poplin shirt you bought me.” As he spoke he gathered his clothes strewn about and held them close. “I thought maybe you were out to kill anything with a designer label so I got out of my clothes quick.”

  “I just did what Tommy did. It was kinda whacked, but I didn’t mind getting rid of a few clothes,” Brien added.

  “Whacked sounds about right,” Jessica whispered. “Sorry guys,” she said in a louder voice. “I will really try to get it together.”

  “It’s okay,” Brien said. “We all go whacko once in a while. Do you think I still have a job?”

  “If you still want to be pool boy to the madwoman of Mission Hills, I’m sure I can square things with Bernadette. Just lie low for a day or two, then pick up your regular schedule like none of this ever happened.”

  “That’s cool. Thanks, Jessica.”

  “No problem, Brien. You and Tommy better get out of here.”

  “Sure, Jessica,” Tommy said. “How are we going to get home? We got here in the limo you hired. You want us to call a cab?”

  Jessica thought for a moment about last night. She had planned what she hoped would be a great evening. A well
-stocked stretch limo shuttled her, Tommy, and a few other friends around town. Dinner had been great at Lulu, downtown in Palm Springs. Then there was Judge Judy Bingo and drinks at Toucan’s nearby, followed by dancing and more drinks at Costa’s.

  She had a vague recollection of Tommy asking if he could, “please, please, please” bring Brien along when they ran into him at Costa’s. She must have said okay. The plan was to go next to the Agua Caliente Casino to play some slots, and she was sure there would be more drinking. By that point things grew sketchy. It was like she had blacked out. Jessica strained to remember what happened, making her head hurt more, but there was nada, zip, zilch. There was no memory at all of arriving at the casino or returning home after that.

  “Tommy, I don’t get it. I can’t remember much of anything after leaving Costa’s. Brien, you were there by then, what happened? I am so sorry you guys, maybe I can’t hold my liquor anymore. Did I make a scene or pass out?”

  It should be no surprise if she was out of practice drinking. She spent most of the last three years of her marriage trying to get pregnant, pregnant, or recovering from a failed pregnancy. Despite her love of good wine, and an appreciation for stronger spirits occasionally, she had quit drinking alcohol. Still, she had done her best to get back up to speed in the last few weeks though.

  “Did everybody else get home okay?” she asked.

  “Sure, Jessica,” Tommy replied. “Everybody was having a great time at your divorce party except you.”

  “I wasn’t the life of the party, but I was doing okay until I flamed out on all of you,” she said, shaking her head in disgust. “How much do you have to drink to black out like that? Maybe I should book a stint at Betty Ford’s.” She shook her head in disgust.

  Brien gave Tommy an anxious glance. “Dude, you’d better tell her.” Tommy whipped his head in Brien’s direction and shook his head no.

  “Tell me what, Tommy?” Jessica asked, assuming the hands on hips posture that worked so well for Bernadette.

  “We tried to make the experience more spectacular for her, Tommy, that’s all.” Then to Jessica he added, “You were bummed out, Jessica. I could tell that right away when I saw you all at Costa’s.”

  “Tommy, I’m asking you for the last time. What did you do?”

  Tommy wore a sheepish look on his face as he spoke. “We sort of gave you something.”

  “What the...?’’ Jessica’s voice rose in volume.

  “Shh, shh, hush,” they both said in unison, cutting her off and looking over their shoulders at the bedroom door. “You don’t want to get HER back in here do you?” Tommy asked.

  “Tell me what you did and then I’ll decide whether St. Bernadette comes back in here. Tell me, now.” Despite her bravado, she lowered her voice since she wasn’t ready for another round with Bernadette either.

  “We slipped you a roofy, okay?” Brien blurted out. “We talked it over and thought you might have some fun if you could relax a little more.”

  “Thomas,” Jessica asked, “is this true?”

  “Thomas, you haven’t called me Thomas since I was twelve...” his voice trailed off when they made eye contact. “It’s true,” he said looking at his hands and then a big, fat tear rolled down his cheek. “I didn’t know you’d take it so bad.”

  “Take it so bad! You could have killed me. You gave me that without knowing what medication I might already have taken. And I was drinking—a lot!” The volume of Jessica’s voice rose again.

  “Wow, I never thought about that did you Tommy?” Brien asked, wide-eyed.

  “I am so sorry,” Tommy said. “I’ve never seen anyone get so weird after one roofy and a few drinks. You shouldn’t ever do that again.” Tears were streaming down his face now.

  “Oh, I won’t do that again,” Jessica said, grim-faced. “And neither will you. Not to me, or to anyone else. If I ever find out either of you have pulled a stunt like that again I’m calling Uncle Don.” They both looked down at the floor. Sergeant Donald Fontana with the Palm Springs Police Department was Tommy’s uncle. She wasn’t sure she’d really call him but it sounded like a good threat.

  “And I’ll tell Bernadette.”

  Two heads snapped up, looking at her to see if she was serious. Seeing the set of her jaw, they both blanched with terror.

  “We won’t do it again. Please don’t tell, Mrs. B. It’s not just about my job,” Brien said with great conviction, “that woman has powers.” Tommy nodded in agreement.

  Jessica knew what they meant. If she had to choose she’d face Uncle Don and spend a few days in jail rather than push Bernadette too far. They both looked miserable.

  “You two get out of here, now!” Jessica reached for the big leather Buti tote sitting on her dresser and pulled out her keys. “Take my car,” she said, tossing the keys to Tommy. Tommy brightened and snatched the keys right out of the air.

  “You still love me, Jessica, you do, you do,” Tommy said with a smile of relief on his face. True.

  It’s tough when you’re young and you lose someone your own age, shattering the illusion of invulnerability before you have your feet planted firmly under you. After Kelly died Tommy never quite got it together to decide what he wanted from life, much less how he would get it. He took courses at College of the Desert, the local community college, without ever settling on a direction. Then he dabbled in computers and videography. Later, he got excited about a career in xeriscape so he could design desert landscapes, until he tried working outdoors in the desert heat.

  Jessica considered the tattered ruins that remained of her own well-planned life and let out a huge sigh. The best laid plans, she thought. She held out her arms and Tommy rushed into them for a hug, sobbing again.

  “It’s okay, Tommy,” she said patting him on the back, tears welling up in her eyes as a rush of maternal feelings engulfed her. Her blasted biological clock! Fueled by fertility drugs, she had plunged into a primordial soup of hormones from which she was still emerging months later. Jessica looked up just as Brien took a step toward them raising his arms.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she said. Brien stopped mid step.

  Tommy wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “Get it back tomorrow and in perfect condition or else,” Jessica admonished. They nodded their heads obediently and left the room.

  Jessica felt exhausted but relieved to find out she wasn’t going nuts or hadn’t gone too far down the road toward alcoholism. She was living too close to the edge though. It was time to take a step back toward normalcy whatever that meant at this point in her life. Jessica finished cleaning the room, even changed the sheets and made her bed. A shower would be great but the next thing she needed to do was patch things up with Bernadette. Tightening the cord on her soft chenille robe, like a fighter about to enter the arena, Jessica padded in bare feet out to the kitchen to find Bernadette.

  ~~~~~

  A DEAD HUSBAND at http://smarturl.it/deadhus

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Life is an extravaganza! Figuring out how to hang tough and make the most of the wild ride is the challenge. On my way to Oahu, to join the rock musician and high school drop-out I had married in Tijuana, I was nabbed as a runaway. Eventually, the police let me go, but the rock band broke up. Our next stop: Disney World, where we “worked for the Mouse” as chefs, courtesy of Walt Disney World University Chef’s School. More education landed us in academia at The Ohio State University. For decades, I researched, wrote, and taught a number of gloriously nerdy topics. Retired now, I’m still married to the same, sweet, guy and live with him near Palm Springs, California. I write mysteries set in sunny California! The Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mystery series set here in the Coachella Valley and the Corsario Cove Cozy Mystery Series set in California’s Central Coast, The Georgie Shaw Mystery series set in the OC, and coming soon, The Misadventu
res of Betsy Stark also set here in the desert. Find out more at:

  http://www.desertcitiesmystery.com