Flamingo Realty Mystery Box Set

by CeeCee James

  I ran to the restaurant’s door, bumping into chairs on the way, and yanked open the door. No one was there. All I could think about was the guy in the black truck. Would he be following me home tonight?

  Chapter 15

  The rest of the day was spent on me being a chicken. Chicken, chicken. I didn’t want to even check my emails. I couldn’t even read Grandma Wiktoria’s letters because I didn’t want to learn anything new. I wanted to curl up, take a bath, hide out and read. I needed to go some place different than I was, and a nice fiction book was going to take me there.

  I didn’t completely hide away. There was an email from Jennifer and Mark with a request for a house showing for the next day. I scheduled it and responded back to them with the confirmation.

  Then I did do some self-protecting. I’m going to term it “self-care,” because I like that better. And it was true. I needed some down time where I felt safe. Book, candle, lavender bubble bath. I went to bed that night feeling much better.

  The next morning, I met the Clarks outside the gate of a cute community. I punched in the code and we drove through the entrance.

  The houses in this neighborhood were all newer. I knew the agent representing this place, Angela Cranton, and I suspected she’d be there today. She wasn’t my favorite person, what with her snooty attitude she had since she normally represented the more elite clients. Still, we all needed to get along as best as we could in this business, sort of a ‘you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours’ scenario. However, there was an unwritten rule that all of us agents understood as well—if you touch my client list, prepare for those scratches to turn into stabs.

  We pulled into the driveway, a lovely flagstone that was flanked by myrtle bushes. There was a little turn-around where we parked. It was a beautiful sunny day, and the sky unseasonably clear for winter.

  I walked over to them, rubbing my hands together. The sun had tricked me and I was poorly dressed in a short-sleeve shirt. “So, did you ever get a chance to share the conversation you heard with the police?”

  Jennifer nodded. “It was actually an interesting interview. I’d forgotten one part that we’d overheard. I think they were fighting over landscaping as well.”

  “What? Like hedges and flowers and stuff?” I asked. Was that code word for something?

  “Yeah, Ian screamed that he was going to more than fire the landscaping guy.”

  Just then, the front door of the house opened and Angela Cranton, in all her hairspray, clown make-up and tight-business-suit glory, toddled out in high heels.

  “Oh, my word! Fancy meeting you here, Stella!” she shrieked from the porch. Of course, Angela knew I’d be here. She knew everything about my clients by now. She toddled down the stairs and linked arms with Jennifer. “How is your agent treating you? Stella’s new in the business, so you have to give her a chance. But here, let me give you my card—”

  “Angela!” I snapped.

  At my voice, Angela backed off with her hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry, sorry. I just want to help. I know how it is when you work in a tiny realty office such as your own. Now come in! Let me show you this hidden gem!”

  We spent a headache-inducing hour there, with Angela fawning over both the Clarks and the house. She knew her stuff though, and it seemed like both Jennifer and Mark were eating up what she was serving. We left with the couple saying they wanted to talk it over privately, but I fully expected them to contact me to make an offer before the day was through.

  I parked in front of the Flamingo agency and walked in. Kari on her way out.

  “So, we still on for this weekend?” she asked. Her grin was entirely too cheery and starting to make me feel stabby. Honestly, she was starting to be obnoxious with the amount of times she was bringing the dinner up. I nodded, barely.

  “Good!” Her adamant nod slowed, and she eyed me with consideration. “You know, I have someone else you have to meet.”

  I groaned. “Please, Kari….”

  “No, not a date. My good friend, Georgie. The three of us need to get together someday. She’s just started dating a guy, so she completely understands what it means to have those lean years.”

  “Lean years?” I asked with an arched eyebrow, daring her to elaborate.

  She caught the look right away and hurried to rephrase it. “You know, lean for companionship. Not that it’s wrong…” She bit her lip and then blurted. “I can’t keep this charade up. You know what happens if you never get out? You never shave your legs or anything else, and the hair becomes junglefied. And then you start collecting cats and eating out of Chinese take-out boxes.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” I raised my arm, and pulled open my shirt sleeve, flashing her my pit.

  “See what I mean!” she shrieked.

  I laughed. “I’ve had boyfriends. This is the winter coat.” Actually, I generally liked to keep things smooth. I just happened to need a new razor and was sick of getting nicked. It was a good opportunity to yank her chain.

  “Oh, my gosh!” she huffed and stormed out.

  I was still grinning as I strolled to my desk. I filed my paperwork and then checked my email for messages.

  “Anything?” Uncle Chris asked, sauntering out of his office. He was looking pretty sharp in a blue suit and purple tie.

  I shook my head. “I’m thinking they’re going to want to put in an offer though. They really liked the house.”

  “All right, sounds good. Let’s get them buttoned up and under contract.” He stuck his hands into his pocket. “You eat yet? I’m about to go grab some lunch. Want to come with?”

  My jaw dropped at his suggestion. Was this it? Was this the moment where he finally was going to tell me the news that he’d hinted at during the drunken phone call?

  Chapter 16

  I wasn’t sure what Uncle Chris was going to say, and my expression must have shown it.

  “Why’s your mouth open like that?” he asked, scowling. “Don’t look so shocked. I’m not that much of a cheapskate.”

  “No, you just took me by surprise,” I said, scrambling for my purse and my jacket. I shrugged into it as I followed him out to the parking lot. “Where are we going?”

  “Just back here. One of my favorite places.”

  He led me around the building to a taco vendor parked in the empty lot behind the realty.

  “Wow! When did this show up?” I asked. There were a few people in line ahead of us. The delicious scent of melted cheese and fresh salsa promised a tantalizing meal.

  “Isn’t this great? They always come around this time of year. You want a taco? Their taquitos are the best.”

  “Yeah, sure,” I nodded. I wondered how they’d compare to the ones I’d grown up with around Seattle. We had some of the best back in Washington.

  Finally, it was our turn. Uncle Chris ordered and gave her a twenty. A minute later, the woman handed over paper plates wrapped in tin-foil.

  “Come on, let’s sit over here.” He headed over to about a half dozen picnic benches, zeroing in on one like it was his spot. I figured that proved he’d been here a time or two.

  A gusty sigh eased out of him as he sat down. I sat across from him. Carefully, I picked off the foil and took a bite.

  Delicious.

  “Good food, right?” he grunted.

  I nodded. “So, how are you doing?”

  “I’m confused,” he confessed. “I’ve been going over in my mind who I think could have done it. The cops seem to be hinting that it must have been his wife.”

  I thought about the blonde, petite woman. “Why Jasmine?”

  “Well, she kind of married him in a weird way.”

  “Really? How’s that?” I took another bite and hummed in satisfaction.

  “He met her at the Cowboy Bar and Grill. She had this big sob story. Something about her rent being due, and the manager of the restaurant hitting on her. She was crying to Ian because that dirt bag wouldn’t leave her alone.”

  Tha
t actually really did sound like a terrible situation. “Okay.”

  “Ever since I’ve known him, Ian always fell for that damsel in distress act.”

  I picked at a piece of lettuce. “So she’s probably the sole inheritor, right?”

  “Seems that way.”

  I chewed and thought some more. It really didn’t make sense to me. She had what she wanted, at least on the outside. A lovely life, clothing, jewelry. Friends and traveling.

  Not to mention the few times that I’d spoken with her, she’d come across so meek. It was hard to imagine her swatting a fly, let alone cold-bloodedly poisoning her husband and leaving him to die in the bathroom.

  Still, I wasn’t the best judge of people.

  “What about the neighbors?” I asked.

  “Neighbors?”

  “Yea, that Gordon guy just showed up, and they brought that wine. From what I’m hearing, they couldn’t stand each other. You remember how you were worried they were going to cause trouble when we put the sign up? Plus, I’ve heard that Gordon has mob ties.”

  “What? Who are you hearing this from?”

  I blushed. I really didn’t want to say Oscar. “Mmm, maybe Jan from the post office. You know how gossip is.”

  “Jan from the Post Office?” His eyebrows lifted.

  I nodded.

  “Are you referring to that lady who talks to her cat all day? That’s your great source of information?”

  I’d forgotten about her orange tabby, Skittles, that lived behind the counter. I bit a hangnail and nodded. “She watches out the window and really knows stuff. And…” I didn’t want to say any more. The incredulous look on his face had dropped into an expression of hilarity. He rubbed his mouth with his hand, struggling to contain it. I was afraid just one more word would push him into a burst of laughter at me.

  “Never mind,” I said, focusing on my food.

  He shook his head. “As far as I know, Ian Stuber and Gordon Taylor were friends at the end. Sure, there was some trouble over garbage cans and dogs barking, but they were both mature enough to let by-gones be by-gones.”

  “What if that was an act? Like maybe Gordon poisoned him to get revenge. Both he and his wife did show up at the party uninvited and gave Ian wine that only he drank.”

  “How on earth would they know that he would drink it?” He frowned. “Besides, from what the coroner said, it was topical.”

  Topical, huh? I chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. “Maybe the neighbor jabbed him with a needle.”

  “Stella, don’t you think Ian would have said something if that happened? At least yelped? Not to mention, what would the Taylors have to gain by such a risky action? The guy was moving.”

  I rubbed my temple. “I don’t know. It makes little sense.” After a second, I tacked on, “What about Ian’s brother? What was his name? You said he had a hot temper.”

  “Jordan. And that feels like even more of a stretch. That was his brother, after all. And he wasn’t at the party.”

  I nodded. “I guess so. But somebody must have done it.”

  We both continued eating until it became apparent that Uncle Chris was allowing the silence to grow. He shifted uncomfortably. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, sensing it was time to give him space.

  “Hey, Stella.” A serious expression settled into the lines around his mouth.

  I held my breath. This was it. The moment he was about to spill his guts. I could feel it. I tensed in preparation.

  “I—ugh—I have a favor to ask.”

  A favor? I was caught off guard with the possibilities. “What is it?”

  “I was wondering if you’d accompany me to Ian’s memorial service. It’s this weekend.” His countenance was conflicted.

  “Oh.” Many thoughts raced through my mind, with HECK NO leading the pack. I barely knew how to comfort people as it was, let alone leave me in a room full of grieving strangers. And, for some reason, my discomfort wasn’t obvious, and I always became the magnet that people wanted to hug. I never knew what to say and ended up sounding like an idiot by mumbling, “There, there,” while uncomfortably patting their shoulder. Despite my best efforts, I think I was more like the anti-comforter. Uncle Chris wanted me to come?

  Still, it wasn’t often he’d ask me for something. I mean, yeah, he did ask me to grab him a coffee a few times, and he’d asked me to put the sign up the other day. There was that one time he asked me to get his dry cleaning.

  But not really ask me something. Something that caused his eyes to crinkle in pain while he frowned.

  I nearly gasped at my next thought. Uncle Chris was relying on me like family. This was probably new for him as well, what with being estranged from Oscar and not having the greatest relationship with my dad. I bet the nearest thing he’d had as family all this time were his old racing buddies.

  Suddenly, I felt honored. I felt like a pillar he was leaning on, and I was determined to be strong for him.

  “Absolutely,” I said with an emphatic nod.

  “You will?” His face relaxed, even as his voice sounded surprised.

  “Of course.”

  “It’s just that with his brother there and his mom…his wife. I feel overwhelmed.” His face fell into a frown again. “Even worse, they asked me to speak at the memorial.”

  “Aw, you’re going to be great!” I said. “Who better to say who he was than one of his best friends.”

  “You think so?”

  I was taken back by this glimpse of his insecurity. He always appeared so confident to the point of blustery.

  “Yes, I absolutely do. Besides, this will give me a good opportunity to watch for any weird behavior.”

  He groaned. “I can just see it now. Don’t be giving everyone the evil eye.”

  “I would never!”

  He snorted. “Are you kidding me? Your face shows everything. I can even tell when your coffee’s cold.”

  “I’ll wear my most impervious mask of non-emotion,” I declared. “What time do we need to be there?”

  “Starts at one.” He’d taken a big bite and talked around it. “Afterwards is like a reception or something.”

  Just talking about the funeral set my teeth on edge. That was going to be a surreal day, seeing all the very same people that had been at his party just a few days before.

  “See, I can tell right now you’re dreading it. It’s written all over your face.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. My thoughts will strictly be thinking of ways to support you.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate that. But do me a favor, and just be a normal guest. Don’t look at anyone like they’re mobsters. Keep your private eye hat off that day.”

  I nodded. I would definitely keep my face neutral.

  But deep down, he had to know that I’d definitely be watching for anything out of the ordinary.

  Chapter 17

  After lunch, I remembered I needed to renew my license. Because I was in a new state, I had to go visit the DOL, rather than doing it online as I could in Washington.

  I didn’t even know where the DOL was. Uncle Chris gave me the directions with a pitying look, and then we headed our separate ways. I actually had no trouble finding the building, but finding parking was another story. Two blocks later, I finally walked inside.

  I grabbed my paper number and bit back a groan. The place was packed. I found a spot in the back, sat down and got out my phone, intending on being here for a while.

  I’d only played one game of Tetris when I heard the front door open and a high giggle. I glanced up and nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw that it was the Valentines. Every part of me shriveled with the word, “Nooooo.” It wasn’t Charity that was the problem—she was a doll. It was her sister, Gladys, whom I only referred to, even in my thoughts, as Ms. Valentine.

  Charity had been quite charming when I’d run into her at the nursing home, but I didn’t expect the same welcome from Ms. Valentine. She’d been furio
us with me the last time I’d seen her. In fact, the thought of that made me want to puke. Quickly, I looked for someplace to hide.

  Unfortunately, the DOL doesn’t offer many places. I considered leaving and coming back another day, but then the number clicked on the overhead boards, showing I was next in line. Blast it! I couldn’t leave now. I raised the collar of my coat and ducked my head.

  “But, Sister—”

  “I have no choice, Charity. And quit your complaining. You sound like a teakettle gone scalding on the stove. It’s of no use, that laws changed, and we have to do one final renew of our registration for the T-bird.”

  I shuddered at the mention of the car, a beast with round headlights that had chased me one night. It was so similar to what had happened the other day, but the T-bird had been driven by their brother who was in jail now. That makes two people who’ve chased me in motor vehicles. What was it with me and cars?

  They walked to the front in a wafting cloud of wool coats and violet perfume. Ms. Valentine snatched a paper from the counter and stared hard at the screen above the desks.

  “All right, we have a number. Fifty-one. Wonderful. Looks like we’ll be here all day,” she harrumphed. “Let’s go find a seat.”

  I crouched lower in my jacket and stared hard at my phone, mentally cursing my choice to come today.

  Clicking heels came closer. I was practically pop-eyed at the concentration I was giving my phone.

  Pointed brown shoes stopped squarely in front of me.

  “Well, well, well. If it isn’t our lovely real estate agent, Ms. O’Neil,” Ms. Valentine said.

  Nervously, I glanced up. Ms. Valentine stared down at me in her charming way, like I was a dirty tissue caught on the edge of her shoe.

  “Oh! Ms. Valentine! Charity! How are the both of you?” I babbled, acting surprised.