Dressed Up 4 Murder, page 27
“Heavens no,” Gertie said. “We told our residence driver to pick us up in a half hour. His car is probably out front.”
Sure enough, a sleek white limo was parked a few feet from our entrance. I escorted the sisters to the door and reassured them I’d be in touch.
Trudy grabbed my arm and whispered, “There’s one more thing.”
Here it comes. Whatever it is, I can only imagine.
“Sharon Smyth is beside herself over that clay jar she bought. The woman was in tears.”
“I know for a fact the clay club is having another sale on June thirtieth,” I said. “That’s coming up pretty soon. She can always buy another jar.”
“That’s what we thought, too, dear, but Sharon was still distraught.”
Wait until she sees my mother’s creations. It’ll give a whole new meaning to the word “distraught.”
“Yes,” Gertie added, “you’d think that silly jar was worth a fortune the way that woman carried on. Wouldn’t you say so, Trudy?”
“I would. Indeed, I would. She’s still carrying on. And acting strangely, too. Refusing to go out on excursions like shows or shopping. If it keeps up, she’ll be a regular recluse. So, you see, it’s really important, Miss Kimball, that you find out who stole these items.”
“I’ll do my best.”
The two sisters, with their matching teal capris and polka-dotted blouses, went directly to their limo.
“So, what did you find out?” Augusta asked when they left.
“Not much. Sounds like the usual stuff that probably happens in college dorms and all sorts of residences where there’s a large population. Petty theft. I mean, if I were to add up all the stuff that was taken, it wouldn’t even equal twenty-five dollars, but that’s not the point. The residents are feeling very uncomfortable and one woman is taking it to the extreme.”
“Yeesh. So I guess that means you’ll be on the case, so to speak.”
“Not a case. A favor for two elderly sisters. I’ve got Saturday off. I’ll drop by the Lillian and have a word with their director. See what I can find out.”
“You’re a good soul, Phee. Just don’t get too deep in the mire. Makes it hard to wipe your boots.”
Just then the phone rang and Augusta grabbed it. I could hear her customary greeting of “Williams Investigations. How can I help you?” But instead of the usual banter that follows those calls, all I heard was, “Uh-oh. Okay. Okay, I will.”
I hesitated to return to my office. Something was off.
“What’s the matter, Augusta? What is it?”
“Looks like the mud you’re going to be wiping off your feet is waiting for you in Sun City West. That was Nate. I was right all along. It was a homicide the sheriff’s department was investigating. Some guy found dead in his garage.”
Suddenly the corned beef sandwich I had eaten for lunch wasn’t settling too well. “Not anyone I know?”
“I don’t think so, but Nate wants you to call your mother and go over to her house.”
“My mother? Why? What’s she got to do with this?”
“The guy they found was holding a piece of paper with two names on it. Your mother’s was one of them.”
“Oh my God! Did he say who the other one was?”
Augusta shook her head. “No. All he said was for you to call your mother and go directly to her house. If she’s not home, wait there for him.”
“And here I thought the worst thing I was going to deal with today was a bit of filching.”
Photo courtesy of Florine Duffield Photography
J.C. Eaton is the wife and husband team of Ann I. Goldfarb and James E. Clapp. Ann has published eight YA time travel mysteries. Visit their website at www.jceatonauthor.com
J.C. Eaton, Dressed Up 4 Murder
