Getting Old Can Hurt You
Page 1
Contents
Cover
A Selection of Recent Titles by Rita Lakin
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Introduction to our Characters
Part One: The Arrival
Prologue: The Deli
Chapter One: What’s with the Weird-Looking Kid?
Chapter Two: Tori takes a Shower, Ida Paces
Chapter Three: Tori Spins a Tale
Chapter Four: Who Peed in the Pool?
Part Two: The Past Reviled
Chapter Five: Tori’s Story – The Church of the Blessed Child
Chapter Six: Tori’s Story – Panorama City
Chapter Seven: Tori’s Story – Grandma and Grandpa Same Night
Chapter Eight: Tori’s Story – The Sisters Early Morning
Chapter Nine: Tori’s Story – Off to Jail We Go
Part Three: The Puzzling Present
Chapter Ten: The Washing-Machine Gang
Chapter Eleven: Ida’s Story
Chapter Twelve: Jack and Gladdy at Dinner
Chapter Thirteen: Starbucks
Chapter Fourteen: High Tea with a Lowly Thief
Chapter Fifteen: Dinner with my Son-in-Law, the Cop
Part Four: The Past Revealed
Chapter Sixteen: Tori Story – Bye-Bye Baby
Chapter Seventeen: Tori’s Story – On the Road
Chapter Eighteen: Tori’s Story – The Boys in the Band that Night
Chapter Nineteen: Tori’s Story – The Guys in the SUV
Chapter Twenty: Tori’s Story – By the Dawn’s Early Light
Part Five: The Search
Chapter Twenty-One: Stakeout
Chapter Twenty-Two: At the Cop Shop
Chapter Twenty-Three: The Retirement Home
Chapter Twenty-Four: Sophie and Bella go Shopping
Chapter Twenty-Five: Come Fly with Me
Chapter Twenty-Six: Back to the Pool
Part Six: The Follow-Up
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Happy Anniversary
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Reporting to Ida
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Tuesday with Izzy
Chapter Thirty: The Goldfish Caper
Chapter Thirty-One: Moments After Bella Runs
Part Seven: The Capture
Chapter Thirty-Two: The Mall – Shop Till You Drop
Chapter Thirty-Three: An Unexpected Stop
Chapter Thirty-Four: Something Wicked this way Comes
Chapter Thirty-Five: Kidnapped
Chapter Thirty-Six: The Hideout
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch
Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Tough Guys
Part Eight: The Rescue
Chapter Thirty-Nine: Jack and Morrie on the Job
Chapter Forty: Bedtime Stories
Chapter Forty-One: Another Sleepless Night
Chapter Forty-Two: Hy and Sophie Finally Remember
Chapter Forty-Three: Gladdy and Tori Get It
Chapter Forty-Four: Izzy Now on the Job
Chapter Forty-Five: Those Darn Church Bells
Chapter Forty-Six: The Racetrack
Chapter Forty-Seven: Fred’s Story
Chapter Forty-Eight: Meanwhile Back in the Stands
Chapter Forty-Nine: Long Distance
Acknowledgements
A Selection of Recent Titles by Rita Lakin
The Gladdy Gold Series
GETTING OLD IS MURDER
GETTING OLD IS THE BEST REVENGE
GETTING OLD IS CRIMINAL
GETTING OLD IS TO DIE FOR
GETTING OLD IS A DISASTER
GETTING OLD IS TRES DANGEREUX
GETTING OLD CAN KILL YOU
GETTING OLD CAN HURT YOU *
Novels
DEMON OF THE NIGHT
A SENSITIVE, PASSIONATE MAN
THE FOUR COINS OF THE KABBALAH
A SUMMER WITHOUT BOYS
* available from Severn House
GETTING OLD CAN HURT YOU
Rita Lakin
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
First published in Great Britain and the USA 2018 by
SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of
Eardley House, 4 Uxbridge Street, London W8 7SY
This eBook edition first published in 2018 by Severn House Digital
an imprint of Severn House Publishers Limited
Trade paperback edition first published
in Great Britain and the USA 2018 by
SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD
Copyright © 2018 by Rita Lakin.
The right of Rita Lakin to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-8806-8 (cased)
ISBN-13: 978-1-84751-933-7 (trade paper)
ISBN-13: 978-1-78010-988-6 (e-book)
Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.
This ebook produced by
Palimpsest Book Production Limited,
Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland
To my sons, Howard and Gavin, the best sons any mother could want
Introduction to our Characters
GLADDY & HER GLADIATORS:
Gladys (Gladdy) Gold 75 Our heroine and her funny, adorable and sometimes impossible partners. Married to Jack
Evelyn (Evvie) Markowitz 73 Gladdy’s sister. Logical, a regular Sherlock Holmes, now remarried to Joe
Ida Franz 71 Stubborn, mean, great for in-your-face confrontation
Bella Fox 83 The ‘shadow’ she’s so forgettable, she’s perfect for surveillance, but smarter than you think
Sophie Meyerbeer 79 She lives for color-coordination
YENTAS, KIBITZERS, SUFFERERS:
THE INHABITANTS OF PHASE TWO
Hy Binder 75 A man of a thousand tasteless jokes
Lola Binder 74 Hy’s wife who hasn’t a thought in her head that he hasn’t put there
Tessie Hoffman 66 Chubby, loves to gossip, married to:
Sol Spankowitz 75 married to Tessie
THE COP AND THE COP’S POP
Morgan (Morrie) Langford 40 Tall, lanky, sweet and smart
Jack Langford 75 Handsome and romantic, married to Gladdy
AND: MAIN CHARACTERS THIS STORY
Tori Ida’s granddaughter
Marilyn and Shirley her sisters
Fred and Helen Tori’s parents
Max and Gertrude Tori’s other grandparents
Izzy Dix former crook
Chaz Dix
PART ONE
The Arrival
PROLOGUE
The Deli
My girls and I are enjoying a yearly celebration lunch of our favorite Private Eye cases, at our usual deli, The Continental. The Dr Brown’s cream soda is flowing freely and the congratulatory high-fives keep going around. In between bites of cheese blintzes, of course.
The long-established Fort Lauderdale restaurant is crowded with huge groups – there�
�s always some Hadassah-type organization events, also birthdays and anniversaries, as well as the hungry mobs from the various neighborhood retirement homes.
But we girls are well-known customers and a table is always available for us.
Sophie, color-coordinated, a vision in pink – pink pedal pushers, pink shorts, pink hair – clinks her glass in toast with all the others. The sound is accompanied by the music made by her many clunky bracelets. ‘My vote for favorite case is when we read about the woman who hit a purse-snatcher guy with her cane, and within weeks, Cane Fu classes were opened. We got to use canes to capture a murderer.’
Bella, our often-puzzled partner, wears a typical dove gray pant suit, lavender blouse, headband and flip-flops, giggles, ‘I liked the squirrels who robbed the car wash. But I never figured out how they spent the money.’
My sister, Evvie, in yellow sweats and matching sneakers, raises her glass next. ‘To Grandpa Bandit, my favorite crook!’
I, in my conventional beige tee and skirt, smile at the girls traveling down memory lane. I’m Gladdy Gold, reluctant appointed leader of the pack, and I gaze contentedly at my charges. Sure we are in our seventies and eighties, but we’ll remain ‘girls’ to the end. We know we’re all in the checkout line for the big deli in the sky, but until then we are totally involved in the Gladdy Gold detective agency. Our motto, ‘Never Trust Anyone Under Seventy-Five’. Senior Sleuths to the Senior Citizen. Our slogan – ‘We Take Care of Our Own’.
Bella, our oldest at eighty-three, looks perplexed at Evvie’s comment, bleary blue eyes squinting, pursing her lips whenever bewildered. It’s slowly dawning on her. ‘But we let Grandpa Bandit get away.’
Ida, who is known for her impatience and the tightness of her battleship-gray hair bun, barks at her. ‘Yes, but the cops caught him and he did his time!’
‘We’re so smart,’ Bella says, nodding cheerfully. She takes another sip of her cream soda.
Evvie pokes Ida. ‘Remember when he sent us those letters with the little green feathers enclosed?’
Ida pokes her in return. ‘Introducing himself as Robin Hood, who stole from the young to pay for the old and poor who needed surgery!’
‘I can’t believe he’s dumb enough to come back here, now that he has a record.’ Sophie slurps at her lemonade. She doesn’t like cream soda.
‘Because,’ I say, waving the letter we received today, ‘he had liked it so much while he was doing his robbing jobs, and met such nice people like us, he decided he’d retire here. And he’s invited us over to his home for tea.’
Evvie is amused. ‘So Izzy now lives in a house, four blocks away from our police station. That’s so funny.’
Bella claps her hands in delight. ‘Is he? Is he who?’
Ida sighs. We’ve been down this path before. ‘Here we go again. Izzy is his name.’
Bella is still perplexed, but game to be included, anyway. ‘That’s so sweet. Is he Izzy, Is Izzy is his name? Whoever Izzy is, tee-hee, he invited us over for tea. Should we go? I never visited a convict’s house. Do we wear striped dresses? Will he steal our purses?’
Ida is about to hit her for her idiocy, but a look from me stops her. Besides, there is something happening at the front door.
We all turn to check the action. Erwin, the deli manager, is holding onto a scruffy-looking teenager, his voice sharp, his fingertips barely grabbing onto her shoulder, not wanting to touch this unsanitary creature. This is surprising behavior for that sweetly, benign soul who never raises his voice. Ever. ‘You can’t come in like this. You have to wear shoes!’ he shouts in frustration.
Fifty pairs of eyes lift from the deli delight of their choice. They glance over at Erwin’s detainee and travel down to the girl’s noticeably dirty, unshod feet. Then look upward to the wild hazel eyes and filthy tangled brown hair, and move down again to obviously unwashed jeans. ‘My-oh-mys’ and ‘Tut-tuts’ all over the room.
‘Hey! Let go, nerd!’ The girl shouts at Erwin. ‘I have to see my grandmother. I know she’s here!’
Erwin is a merciless manager, follower of many rules. ‘I don’t care if you want to see Tinker Bell. You are not coming in!’
The teenager cries out again, yelling. ‘Grandma Ida! Please tell me where you’re sitting. I know you’re here, your neighbors told me where to find you.’
My girls shake their heads in surprise. Our Ida looks around the room with all the others.
Erwin deals with this interloper, his toupee escaping, and his forehead sweating as he grabs her by the scruff of her neck. ‘Out! Out of here!’
He is shoving her back toward the door.
She yells. ‘Ida Franz! Stand up, darn it!’
The whole room turns toward table number three; us. We are a known entity. We immediately swivel to our Ida as well.
Ida looks puzzled. ‘What …? I have no idea who that troublemaker is.’ But she stands up anyway. ‘I’m Ida Franz. Who wants to know?’
With that, the girl pulls away from flustered Erwin, who has loosened his grip at this revelation, and briskly heads toward us.
We have become the Entertainment Segment for the lunch crowd. The entire room zooms in and fastens its orbs on our little table. We are the center of attention. Cold cuts will turn warm. Hot plates will cool down. Gossip rules.
Ida, still standing, puts her hands on her hips. ‘So, speak up – who are you?’
The young girl looks Ida up and down, as if she were measuring the hostile woman for a hanging. ‘I’m Tori—’
Ida snaps, instantly turtle-jawed. ‘Aha! I don’t have any grandchild named Tori.’ With that, she sits back down in a dramatic huff. And folds her arms in a close-the-discussion position. To prove her disinterest, she unfolds said arms in order to take a dainty bite of her blintz.
‘Mom and Dad named me Gloria. You know why.’
Ida gawks. Something registers.
Bella whispers to Sophie, ‘How can she be Gloria and Tori at the same time? Is that legal?’
Sophie shushes her. ‘Just listen.’
‘I changed that name, because I hated it.’
Ida’s mouth drops open, a tidbit of blintz hanging from her lips. She clambers up, pulling away from her chair. She reaches out eagerly to the girl, then stops short, as if a light bulb turned off.
Ida, being Ida, the Ida I know, assumes nothing at face value. She worries about being embarrassed before an audience. Or about being taken advantage of; she will not jump immediately into any new situation. Or accept any passing child?
Tori’s arms have opened up for her as well, then she stops, startled, that her grandmother is no longer moving toward her. The face that faces her is closed.
‘Okay, Tori, or whoever you are – I’ll admit to having a grandchild named Gloria, but how do I know it’s the real you?’
My girls are surprised. Even I am astonished at Ida’s odd response. But then again, typical from Ida Franz, our Queen of Distrust.
Sophie and Bella are clutching each other. They are excited by watching a happy longtime reunion with a family member. About to happen before their very eyes, like in all the romance books they read. They are ready to shed tears of joy, but what’s this? Why has Ida stopped short?
Tori’s mood turns angry. It’s as if she had been willing to meet her grandmother halfway, but instead, the woman is denying her.
Ida, ‘Before I commit to knowing you, prove who you are; where do you come from?’
Tori stiffens, her eyes blazing. By the looks of her, I have the feeling this girl has been through a lot. I don’t think she’ll stand for this kind of treatment.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ Tori responds, her voice gritty. ‘You want to play games? I just traveled three thousand miles to see you.’ She sneers. ‘I come from California. I live on the street you lived on before you skipped town. Want me to name it? Brimfield Avenue in Panorama City. Good enough proof? Want me to describe our house – the kitchen, with the ugly boring avocado fridge and stove? The
living room with that scratchy orange rag rug; how about our one and only pukey-green bathroom with the little yellow ducky perched on the tub? Should I describe the rest of that dump?’ She stops, choking on her rage.
Ida pales. She’s caught in her own trap and I think she doesn’t know how to get out of it gracefully. Her arms drop to her side.
Weakly, ‘It sounds familiar.’
I’m stunned. What is our friend doing? She’s lived among us for fifteen years, a woman of mystery, not wanting to speak about her past. Her past is now here and she rejects it?
I glance around the room. The diners haven’t stopped staring; eyes jumping from each of us at our table, measuring our reactions, reminding me of watching a tennis match. Surely this girl is telling the truth. Why is Ida behaving so weirdly?
Desperation now. Ida can’t let go. ‘How do I know you didn’t change places with my granddaughter somewhere and are taking her place? I don’t recognize you.’
I look at my friend, askance. Ida, what are you doing?
The girl’s lips manage to form a smile. It isn’t a pretty sight. There’s fury in that pretense of pleasure. ‘I wouldn’t wonder. The last time you saw me I was two years old.’
Something strange is going on here. Why is the girl staying and listening to this? Why does Ida deny her? What does this stranger want?
‘Come on, Granny, cut it out, you know it’s me!’
After struggling with the last shreds of an inside-her-head battle, Ida gives up and jumps up again. She reaches out once more and hugs the girl, who hugs her back. But only for a moment, then the girl turns away. ‘My grandbaby,’ Ida cries, still holding on. ‘My darling grandbaby. It’s really you!’
Sophie, Bella, Evvie and I are amazed. Interesting to note about that hug. As if the child really cares, but mustn’t let herself show that she cares.
Tori pulls away and, like a melting ice cube, announces, ‘I would have stayed away from you forever, old lady, but I have no choice. They’re coming after me to kill me. Grandma Ida, you have to help me.’
ONE
What’s with the Weird-Looking Kid?