Val & Pals Boxed Set: Volumes 1,2 & the Prequel (Val & Pals Humorous Mystery Series)

by Margaret Lashley

  ***

  I didn’t have to wait long. When I stepped into the dining room for a quick cappuccino before class, I saw him sitting alone at his normal breakfast table. I’d asked Friedrich to keep our affair a secret between the two of us. I hoped he would keep his promise. As I passed his table, I tried to play it cool, but I couldn’t help it. I smirked. I felt sexy, mysterious and voluptuous, like an international spy in an old, black-and-white movie.

  “Good morning, Freidrich,” I said, perhaps a bit too nonchalantly.

  “Good morning,” he replied casually.

  Friedrich was keeping our secret. I smiled and breathed a grateful sigh of relief and walked over to the noisy group at the volunteer table.

  “Well, I was just about to call out the cavalry,” said Frank. “I don’t need another person to have to worry about.”

  I studied Frank’s grouchy, arrogant mug and wondered what Val II saw in him. Oh yeah, not my problem. I shrugged and sat next to Tina.

  “Sorry. I overslept.”

  “Looks like the early bird didn’t get the worm this morning,” sniped Val II.

  Tina poked me in the ribs and whispered. “Maybe because you got the worm last night, huh?” She studied me with her too-young-too-be-so-jaded face.

  A wave of heat warmed my innards. I could feel it shoot up my neck. I forced my best poker face.

  “Such a dirty mind for such a pretty girl.”

  Tina grinned slyly, then stared at me as she chewed on my comment, unsure whether to swallow it or not. I turned my attention back to Frank.

  “Any word on Berta yet?”

  “Well, I didn’t want to bring this up at breakfast, but Antonio said there was an unclaimed body in the morgue that fit her description.”

  “Oh my god!” I cried. “Someone needs to go find out if it’s her!”

  “Obviously,” sneered Frank. “Who wants to do it? Any volunteer –”

  “I will,” offered Peter. “I’m off today.” He took a giant bite of croissant. “And I know where the hospital is.” He poked his bandaged knee up above the table for our viewing pleasure.

  “Alright then,” said Frank. “I’ve informed Ms. Mozzarelli. She’ll be here soon. You can go together.”

  “Hey, I just remembered,” Peter said. “There’s a great pizza place next to the hospital. Anybody want me to pick one up for them while I’m there?”

  The thought of Peter looking at dead bodies one minute, eating pizza the next turned my stomach. But his strong constitution did seem to make him the right one for the job. Who else could be so callous and uncaring?

  “Do they have pepperoni and mushroom?” asked Val II.

  ***

  Frank was silent and sullen all the way to class. I couldn’t have been more grateful. To keep from being a nervous wreck, I’d put thoughts of Berta on hold until Peter came back with his news. No use worrying. It wouldn’t help anything. Besides, my mind was preoccupied with another thought. I, Val Jolly, had actually had sex last night.

  I wondered if anyone else could tell I’d fallen off the celibacy wagon. On my way to class, I thought I detected a look of recognition in the eyes of an old woman sweeping a doorway. I was almost certain our weary classroom teacher was on to me. After class, I was positive a handsome young man in the bakery window had gotten wind of my lewd and lascivious deed. Even the tomcat I petted outside the hotel winked at me as if he was well aware of my naughty, nocturnal shenanigans.

  “Keep it under your hat, cat.”

  I scratched the kitty behind his ears and smiled at my own silly imaginings. No one looks different from having sex. Do they?

  I took a step toward the hotel entry door and was almost run over by a dilapidated old car. I was about to give the driver a piece of my mind when I realized it was Vittorio, the cabbie who’d picked me up at the airport.

  “Vittorio! How are you?”

  The threadbare old man’s eyes registered not a hint of recognition.

  “I need a cab to the airport in two days.”

  The old man’s face cracked into a snaggle-toothed smile. “Ah, bella signora! Prego!”

  Vittorio handed me an appointment card. As I filled in the time I needed to be picked up, one of the businessmen from the hotel climbed into the cab. Vittorio snatched the card from my hand, gave a quick nod, and peeled out of the driveway faster than my Uncle Jack on a beer run with five minutes to go before Earl’s Liquor Store closed.

  I watched the black cab leave. A white van pulled up. Ms. Mozzarelli was at the wheel, looking tired and put upon. Peter climbed out of the passenger seat carrying two pizza boxes.

  “Well?” I asked.

  “Oh. Did you want a pizza? I only got –”

  “No, Peter! Was it her?”

  “Berta, you mean?”

  “Yes, of course!”

  “You don’t have to get all huffy! Calm down. It wasn’t her.”

  “Are you absolutely sure?”

  “Val, the stiff on the slab was wearing a blue dress, pearls and a headscarf.”

  “Oh.”

  I sighed with relief. Definitely not our Berta.

  ***

  “Purple. Interesting,” Friedrich said.

  We’d met after dinner at the lobby bar. For some reason, I was at a loss for words. What could I say to the man who, mere hours ago, had seen me in all my naked lack of glory? I was desperate for something funny to say, to lighten the awkwardness I’d felt. So I told Friedrich about Tina and Peter, and their misunderstanding involving my wind-swept purple panties.

  “Do you know what, in Germany, the color purple means?” Friedrich raised one eyebrow as he awaited my answer.

  “No.”

  “A frustrated woman.”

  I laughed involuntarily, then blushed.

  “This is one color you no longer need, ya?”

  I punched Friedrich on the shoulder and leaned in to kiss him. He jerked back, and I suddenly remembered our affair was a secret. I jerked back, too, then looked around to see if anyone had noticed. It didn’t appear so. I took another sip of the horrible brown drink Friedrich called a “digestive.” I resigned myself to the fact that I would never acquire a taste for Amaro. I set the nasty aperitif back on the bar.

  “Well, I guess I’ll say goodnight,” I said to Friedrich.

  I left him standing alone at the bar and made a show of saying goodnight to the other WOW volunteers. At dinner, we’d all agreed it was time to call the police about Berta. Frank and Val II were over by the front desk, talking with an officer while Antonio interpreted. I’d wanted to help out, but Frank had shut me down, insisting on taking charge of the situation. Whether that was a good thing or not, I didn’t know. I’d already told Frank everything I knew about Berta’s disappearance, which was zilch.

  On the ride up in the elevator, worry grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me down like a schoolyard bully. Friedrich and I had made secret plans for tonight. He was supposed to come to my room fifteen minutes after I left the lobby. As soon as I’d stepped into the elevator, I’d begun to second-guess the sanity of the scheme. This man is a stranger! What if that’s what happened to Berta? Had she met a man and he’d…done god only knows what to her?

  I mean really, what was I doing? I’d be leaving in a few days. Was it really worth the risk to my heart – to my life? A gentle tap sounded on my door. I opened it to find Friedrich there, holding a red rose. I hated red roses. Grandma Violet’s coffin had been covered in them. My misgivings reared up like a bucking horse.

  “I don’t want to go chasing any more dead ends, Friedrich.”

  He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

  “Val, don’t you know by now? They’re all dead ends.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was Friday, and still no word on Berta.

  I would be leaving tomorrow. My class duties had ended yesterday. After our last lesson, the handsome young men had showered me with passionate hugs and kisses on the cheek
. I’d also been given a small, silver-colored box containing four exquisite, hand-made chocolates. They’d looked more like works of art than food. But their beauty hadn’t been enough to save them. I’d taken a picture of them with my phone and devoured them all on the walk back to the hotel. Frank had been given neither kisses nor candy, and I hadn’t shared mine. I was done trying to impress the boorish blowhard.

  I met up with Tina for our final breakfast together. Vittorio was picking me up at 7 a.m. to catch a flight from Bari to Rome.

  “Did you hear the latest on Berta?” she asked as she sat down across from me.

  “No! What?”

  “The police went up to inspect her room, and all her stuff was gone. The closets were empty. The only thing they found in there was an empty purse and a used bar of soap.”

  “So…are you saying that maybe Berta just up and left?”

  “Probably so.”

  “Why on earth didn’t Frank and Val II tell us that Berta’s luggage was gone?”

  “I know, right?” Tina rolled her eyes. “Those two are idiots! They’re so wrapped up in themselves they probably didn’t even think to check.”

  “I’ve been worried sick for days! Now at least now there’s a good chance Berta just left, and isn’t dead somewhere.”

  “Come on, Val. You didn’t seem that worried. I mean, not enough to keep you out of the sack with Friedrich.”

  My face suddenly burned like hot coals.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Ah ha! I knew it! That red face says it all!”

  “Hush!”

  “Why? What’s the big deal?”

  “I don’t know. I…I’ve just never done anything like this before.”

  “Come on. Don’t tell me you’re a forty-one year old virgin. Not buying it.”

  “No. I’ve never had a…casual affair before.”

  “What? You’re kidding!”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Well, I’ve never had married sex before, so we’re even.”

  I laughed softly. “Thanks for not judging me.”

  “Judging you? For what? I’ve been screwing Jonny the pool guy for over a week.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. So tell me, Val. How do they compare?”

  “What?”

  “Married sex and unmarried sex. Which is better?”

  I smiled slyly. “I think I need a bit more research before I can give my final answer.”

  “Hmmm. Does that mean you’re staying?”

  “Oh. No. Are you?”

  “I don’t know yet. But there’s nobody back in Jersey missing me.”

  “I’ll miss you.”

  “Thanks. I’ll miss you, too.”

  ***

  With Berta’s luggage gone and no body floating in the sea, the police refused to pursue the case until further evidence became available. I tried to picture Berta in her green pantsuit off on some new adventure. I only wondered why she hadn’t bothered to say goodbye.

  I went back to my room and got ready for my trip to the beach with Friedrich. It was my last day in Brindisi, and it was a stunner. The sky was the color of sapphires, unmarred by even a trace of clouds. Friedrich had instructed me to bring along a camera and plenty of sunscreen. The plan was to drive along the coast and find a cove where we could sunbathe a bit and take a swim.

  I slipped into my floral sundress and sandals. I pulled my lavender, two-piece suit from a drawer and giggled. Purple! I guess I won’t be needing this anymore. I tossed it on a chair and decided to leave it behind tomorrow. I found my white one-piece and tucked it into a cute straw tote I’d bought at an open-air market yesterday. Then I added a book, a bottle of wine, and a half-gallon container of industrial-strength sunblock.

  I’d told Friedrich I would wait for him in the lobby after breakfast. When I stepped out of the elevator, he was already waiting for me, dressed in a white cotton shirt and knee-length khakis. The white Gilligan hat was back, perched on his head like a wilted pizza crust. The Birkenstocks also made a reappearance, minus the black socks, thank goodness. Through the lobby’s glass doors I could see his little silver convertible glimmering in the sun.

  “You look goot,” he said as I handed him my straw tote.

  “Thank you. You, too!”

  Our affair was still a secret, as far as I knew, so I waited until we were safely off the hotel grounds before I leaned over and kissed Friedrich on the cheek.

  “What was that for?”

  “Do I need a reason?”

  Friedrich cocked his blond head and gave me a half a smile. “No.”

  He shifted gears and soon the fresh, salty air off the Adriatic filled my senses. For a Friday, the beaches were surprisingly packed with kids who barely looked old enough to be out of high-school. Both sides of the road were lined with cars parked haphazardly in the sand and grass. A couple of times we thought we’d found a free space, only to discover a motorcycle or scooter tucked inside.

  We drove on for another twenty minutes or so, until the vehicles finally began to thin out. Friedrich parked the Peugeot in the sand next to a stack of white boulders, each one bigger than his car. We grabbed our beach bags and picked our way around the huge stones. On the other side shone the crazy-blue Ty-D-Bol sea.

  We found a spot in the sand and lay down our towels. I fussed with mine, putting my shoes on the corners to hold it down against the breeze coming off the water. Satisfied, I looked up to see Friedrich bent over in front of me, his naked butt in my face. He was fishing something out of his bag. He stood up with his red speedo in his hand. He casually stepped into it.

  I looked up and down the beach. There was no changing room – not even a bathroom. There were probably fifty people milling about. I saw a young woman slipping on a bathing-suit top. I suddenly realized Friedrich was watching me. I gulped and let out a determined breath.

  “Well, just let me slip into this,” I said. I pulled my suit out of my bag and sat on the towel. I changed out of my sundress and into my suit in three seconds flat.

  “Care for a swim?” Friedrich asked.

  I could use some cooling off after that totally embarrassing moment.

  “Sure!”

  As we walked to the sea, I noticed the crowd was pretty young.

  “These kids look like teenagers. Shouldn’t they be in school?”

  “Oh, you didn’t hear. They are on strike today.”

  “The students? On strike? Why?”

  “You see how nice the weather is today?

  “Yes, but –”

  “What more reason does an Italian need?”

  I stood in silence for a moment, a monkey wrench thrown into my American mindset. Then something inside me relaxed, and I grinned from ear to ear.

  What better reason indeed? Here’s to la dolce vita!

  ***

  The rest of the day with Friedrich went by like an old family video. Nothing spectacularly interesting happened during it, still, it was a memory I wanted to hold on to because I knew it wouldn’t last. I think we both were haunted by the lingering thought that tomorrow was goodbye. We’d returned to the hotel and made urgent, desperate love, the sand and the smell of the sea still clinging to our bodies.

  That evening, we’d returned to Friedrich’s favorite little bistro – the same place he’d introduced me to Primitivo Rosso, the wine he said reminded him of me. We’d strolled to the town square and listened to a children’s choir. Then I’d spent the late evening in his room, wrapped in his arms. He tried to discuss the future with me, but I’d silenced him with a finger to his lips.

  “Let’s just let it be what it was, Friedrich. The perfect affair.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Friedrich had offered to drive me to the airport this morning, but I’d begged him not to. I couldn’t bear another minute of goodbyes. I packed my belongings and snuck out of my room. I rode down the jerky little elevator for the last time, sandwiched between my suitcase a
nd my carry-on. When I stepped into the lobby, Friedrich was nowhere in sight. He’d kept his promise.

  I couldn’t tell for sure if I was relieved or disappointed. The young night clerk saw me and, without a word, dragged himself off the couch to start fixing my cappuccino. Just as he finished, Antonio arrived through the glass entry door.

  “Ah. Leaving us so early,” he said.

  “Si. Gratzia mille for everything.”

  Antonio’s mouth alternated back and forth between a smile and a frown as I handed him my keys for the last time.

  “You need a cab, Signora Val?”

  “No, Vittorio should be here any minute.”

  “Arrivederci, signora Val. Buon viaggio.”

  Antonio nodded at me, then turned and busied himself with paperwork. I took a seat on the black sofa, sipped my last cappuccino and waited for Vittorio to arrive.

  ***

  I’d just returned my cup to the coffee bar when a hotel maid came bustling out of the elevator, waving something in her had.

  “Signora Jolly! You have forgetted this!” She scurried up to me and handed me the purple bathing suit I’d hoped to leave behind.

  “Oh. Thank you. Gratzie,” I fumbled.

  As the maid walked away, I sighed. I hope this isn’t a portent of frustrations to come.

  I shrugged the thought away, bent over and unzipped the side pocket on my big blue suitcase. I started to tuck the suit inside when I spied something red in the pocket. I pulled it out. It was a pair of Friedrich’s sexy underwear. I stared at the underpants for a moment and smiled. It dawned on me that I’d never had a lover before. Not like this.

  I saw Vittorio’s cab pull up. I looked up and jumped like a frog in a frying pan. A pair of judging eyes glared at me from a face that looked as if everything smelled of shit. Aww, crap!

  “You’re leaving already. Good,” Val II sneered. “You know, an educated man like Friedrich is too good for a flabby-assed little hick like you.”

  If I didn’t have a plane to catch, I’d have shown her just what this flabby-assed little hick was capable of.

  “Oh really? Then why did he take me on all those rides?”