Without Any Warning (A Samantha Jamison Mystery Volume 2)

by Peggy A. Edelheit

  “I know I should have walked away, but being that they were the only ones going in the elevator, my curiosity got the better of me. So, I waited and angled myself off to the side to see where it was headed.”

  Now, I knew that the Borgata didn’t have a thirteenth floor. That was a gambler’s notorious bad luck hotel floor. On the other hand, I took a mental leap at what I knew was probably coming. “The seventh floor?” I blurted out, jokingly.

  “Why, yes! That was it exactly! Then it headed right back down to the lobby, but no one came out.” Bill stared at me, his eyebrow arched suspiciously. “Now, how did you know it was that floor, Samantha?”

  I smiled innocently. “Lucky guess?”

  To my relief, Bill just laughed. “I’m bringing you next time I hit the Borgata,” he said, shaking his head in amazement. “Yes sir! Bringing you might pay off big time.”

  Chapter 22

  How Lucky Can You Get?

  I felt myself getting mentally drawn in, slowly, deeper and deeper. As I typed in my laptop, I realized how the whole Mona thing was becoming a complex web that was growing by the minute.

  Okay, this is what I had so far.

  …A close friend runs away from something or someone. She hides a hotel key card behind one of my paintings in her room. She’s also in possession of a receipt for room service, signed with someone else’s name, at the Borgata for room number 707. She’s spotted by Bill going to the seventh floor of said hotel with a man apparently while wearing one long black wig.

  I sat back trying to put this all together. It seemed strangely possible, considering her odd conversations on those separate occasions when she spoke of the past, and my observance of her now-and-then skittish behavior. She had obviously sought me out, knowing I was a safe haven, but from what? For what purpose? What happened to make her run to me and then disguise herself under a wig? Who was the man she was seen with at the casino? Why was that receipt in Mona’s purse signed by someone called Paula Foster? Was another woman involved in this with Mona?

  This whole thing was starting to unsettle me. I felt like I was being ever so gently steered in a certain direction by my intuition though. It hadn’t failed me in the past, but as usual, I was constantly left with unanswered questions.

  What would I find or uncover?

  It seemed I had a knack for getting myself into situations that weren’t always in my best interest, but they eventually led me to the truth. Hesitant to walk down that path once again, this time, I had to play it safe. I needed sure-fire protection. Let’s see, maybe a horseshoe, rabbit’s foot, lucky penny, or… I paused and thought back on my recent past.

  No. I needed accident and life insurance instead!

  Chapter 23

  Through The Looking Glass

  Intrigued, I had been watching from my kitchen sink window people coming and going from the house next door for the last couple of days. I saw no sign of David, though, which I thought was odd. The foot traffic was constant. No one seemed to be dressed out of the ordinary, kind of nondescript. Too nondescript? I was furtively scanning down below, while I unloaded the dishwasher, putting away dishes and glasses, as a perfectly good excuse for standing there.

  David and I shared the same courtyard, so, if anyone noticed me, it would appear normal enough to see me puttering around in my kitchen. When all else failed, believe me, I could putter with the best of them.

  My phone rang. I was annoyed because I wanted to keep an eye out for anything unusual and not miss a thing. “Hello,” I said, matter-of-factly, somewhat distracted, as I wiped the sink and counter, while still maintaining eye contact with the courtyard below.

  “Hi there, neighbor. I see you’re an early riser, up and about like me.” It was David!

  I know it didn’t make any sense, but without thinking, I turned around, expecting to see him directly behind me.

  “No, Sam, over here,” he said. I turned back, staring down at the courtyard and then heard him laugh. “No, I’m over at my dining area window, directly facing your kitchen sink window.”

  My eyes traveled back up and I looked straight out. I caught my breath. There was David, clear as day, smiling and raising his hand, saluting me, apparently enjoying his cup of coffee and laughing, obviously seeing the humor in catching me off guard. Again.

  “Oh!” was all I could think of to say. Caught in the cross hairs! How long had he been standing there? Was he watching me all this time staring down at the courtyard? Had he seen me snooping all those other days?

  Damn! I was blushing toward the red zone. We were both staring in a straight line at each other, separated by only a number of feet, with one exception. We were in completely separate houses. He could probably spot food on my chin from his place. I swiped it just in case.

  “I see you haven’t had your coffee yet. How about coming over for a cup?”

  I looked down at myself. My one hand reached up to my wayward clipped hair, and then to my bathrobe. I had gotten lax from living in total privacy with no one around in the North Carolina mountains. I filed a mental note to myself: As soon as it was feasible, I would ask to have lace curtains installed, for me to still see through, but would shield me from any future embarrassment.

  I had grown complacent with the house next door being vacant because it was still preseason when I arrived, so I rarely gave it a second thought. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one catching the views. He was watching me, as I was watching him.

  How convenient for us both.

  I glanced over at him again, considering his offer. His invite was a perfect opportunity to verbally poke around. I was sort of interested who this individual was and might actually learn something. What could be the downside of going over for a cup of coffee? I could think of only one right up front. Bad coffee.

  I was particular about my coffee and my men.

  My curiosity finally outweighed my fastidious taste buds. Besides, I wanted to find out how this guy knew my name in the first place. I smiled over at him across the way, speaking into the phone. “Sure, why not? Give me a few minutes and I’ll be right over.”

  I sat in his kitchen moments later, eyeing him, as I slowly sipped my coffee, sizing up what kind of person he was. Then I said, “Thanks for the invite. The coffee is superb. Score one point for the new neighbor.”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you over,” he said, “but I’ve been sort of busy lately.”

  He didn’t have to finish the ‘as if you didn’t know,’ part of the sentence. I silently thanked him for saving me the verbal embarrassment with a smile. I was still mystified though. Why all the foot traffic coming and going? I refused to give him the satisfaction of outright asking him, waiting to hear him volunteer some info.

  I smiled slyly. “Lucky you,” I noted. “Your timing was flawless. It’s absolutely amazing what you can see when looking through glass windows.”

  He smiled back. “I thought so too. How fortunate they worked to our advantage.”

  Chapter 24

  Getting To Know Who?

  “Okay,” I confessed a little while later after he poured me a second cup of coffee. “So I was just a little curious about who was living next door to me. It suits me, working here, and I didn’t want anything to compromise that.”

  “Do I look like I’m a threat to your personal space?” David challenged, as he sipped his coffee.

  I set my mug down on the counter. “Honestly speaking? No. On the other hand, I don’t know anything about you.”

  “That’s a fair answer,” he said. “So, go ahead. Ask away. What would you like to know?”

  “For starters, why here? Why now? It’s off season.”

  “You jump right in, don’t you? Probing questions too. I like that,” he said.

  I took another sip, savoring not only the delicious coffee, but the conversion, too. “I wouldn’t want to sit here and waste a good cup of coffee now, would I?”

  David laughed. “I must admit, your self-confidence is qui
te refreshing.”

  “Thanks. But, you still haven’t answered my questions, have you?” I asked, not wanting him to veer from the subject.

  “You’re right. First, let me start with the reason for the rental. I’m a widower and I’m trying to get my life back on track. The fact that it’s still off-season is of no importance. I wanted time alone, that’s all. Let’s see. Why here? Why not?” he asked, looking around.

  “This is just as good a place as a cabin in the woods, a house in the mountains, or any other location for that matter. The whole thing in a nutshell? I needed to get away from all the old memories and old familiar places, wanting something completely different that I’ve had no previous ties to. You know, a fresh start.”

  I nodded sympathetically unable to speak right away thinking of Stephen.

  He smiled, slightly embarrassed. “Sorry, but it’s sort of complicated explaining how strange I’ve felt lately.”

  I leaned forward. “Hey, I understand. I found myself questioning my past, present and future, and then finally realized that I needed to go in a new direction.”

  “I knew you would understand, since Bill filled me in about Stephen,” said David. “Well, I guess, that settles it. We aren’t very threatening to each other at all. Got any more questions?”

  I set my coffee mug down. “Is that how you knew my name was Sam?”

  David nodded, smiling. “Yes. Bill suggested I give you a call, making a point of emphasizing what a wonderful neighbor I would have next door if I were to go through with the rental, you know, quiet surroundings and all.”

  I was about to take another sip and stopped before I choked. Quiet? I didn’t think so. Obviously, Bill didn’t mention the statue incident, thank goodness. I realized David hadn’t been around for the baseball catastrophe or cleaning incidents either. Why bother explaining, when he was under the impression I was quite normal and not a magnet for trouble.

  “Oh, I’m sure,” I countered, “eventually you’ll see another side to me you might not have expected.”

  He leaned in. “Do you mind me asking you a few questions?”

  “No, not at all,” I replied, realizing I had better be on guard. After all, he was the one who called me. Was it innocent curiosity on his part? I had no idea. But I wanted to be in a flexible position for a change. It wasn’t often I held the upper hand in an exchange.

  “Tell me that woman at the casino wasn’t really your mother, because both of your dress codes seem to be on opposite ends of the spectrum. Not that she didn’t appear to be likable under all that…red.”

  He actually managed to keep a straight face with that statement. I had a feeling he already knew the answer, but was not exactly sure who she really was. I laughed. “She’s not really my mother, just a friend visiting for a while. I wasn’t ready to deal with you in the middle of the day, when I had my hands full with her running around loose and unaccounted for at the Borgata.”

  David smiled. “Then maybe we should get together some evening when you’re not babysitting. After all, we seem to have bonded over caffeine. Surely there’s no harm in that, right?”

  I smiled back. “You know, getting to know you over this little get-together wasn’t all that bad. How about we have lunch instead?”

  Chapter 25

  Rolaids And Roland

  It was Friday night, the night of Martha’s big date. She was as nervous as a cat, pacing back and forth, tugging at her clothes and patting her hair. “How do I look, Sam?” she asked for the tenth time in ten minutes.

  Now, that was a loaded question that I’d skirted by smoothly saying what she wanted to hear ten times over, and pretending to be engrossed in reading the paper so she wouldn’t press me. I set the paper down on my lap slowly, giving myself time to come up with a decent answer. She was wearing a turquoise knit suit, turquoise shoes and, you guessed it, carrying a turquoise purse.

  “Mona helped you pick that outfit out?” I asked skeptically. I couldn’t believe Mona’s tastes had changed so much these last few years. I needed to have a talk with her. Maybe she was more stressed out than I thought.

  “Heck no! She got fed up and wandered off to another store. She was getting bored with me constantly changing my outfits. You know, that girl has no patience. She sure fidgets a lot for a grown woman.”

  “How many did you try on?” I asked, curious how this fashion faux pas happened.

  Her eyes darted around nervously. “Not that many,” she said in a righteous huff, gradually edging away from me.

  “Martha …exactly how many did you try on?” I pressed.

  “…Okay,” she finally admitted. “So, maybe I did try on everything on the rack. So what! You know, this was quite an investment for me. I had to get the color just right so I could change all the pieces out and mix and match with some of my other clothes. You know, money doesn’t grow on trees, and a person my age is always on a strict budget. I can’t afford to make an expensive fashion mistake.”

  I sat there looking at one, but didn’t have the heart to tell her. “I can truly say, Martha, that it’s …one of a kind.”

  “You really think so?” she said, all excited. “I added this red scarf for a dash of color to jazz it up a little, too.”

  I pointed to a chair. “Martha, how about you sit a minute and tell me a little something about this Roland fellow you’re dating tonight. What do you know about him? I feel sort of responsible for you. You wouldn’t be down here if I hadn’t rented this house by the beach. Please humor me, okay?”

  She reluctantly sat down across from me, toying with her red scarf. “I pride myself in having a good eye for people, and he seemed friendly enough. Why he even said he knew your cleaning lady, Crystal, after we got to talking for a stretch. Like I told you, I checked him out, looking at his driver’s license and his AARP card too,” she said proudly.

  I gently shook my head. She was going to be the death of me, but I had to trust her judgment. “How old is he?”

  “Well, he’s a little bit older than me, but pretty spry for a gentleman of his advanced age.” She started acting nervous and seemed about ready to spring from her chair.

  “Martha. You’re evading me again. How old is he?”

  “Let me see,” she said looking at the ceiling, stalling. “…I think his license read ninety. …Or was it ninety-one? I’m not sure, to tell you the truth because I read it so quickly. You know, I was never a whiz at figuring out math. I let the register do it for me.” She moved to get up.

  My mouth dropped open. I quickly raised my hand for her to wait. “And he still drives?” I asked, cringing, already, visualizing in my mind the obit for the next day, boldly splashed across the headline of the local paper.

  “Oh no!” countered Martha. “His son won’t let him. Roland said he just likes to renew his license and show it off to all his friends. It’s a macho thing, I guess. He said he damn near killed himself last time he drove the car, getting it stuck under the back end of a school bus at a red light. Claimed he didn’t see it.”

  “…Martha, those buses are painted bright yellow!”

  “I know, but maybe he’s colored blind! You never know. Anyway, don’t worry. We’re going to the movies on the boardwalk. He’s taking a cab here. We’re walking over. After that, we’re grabbing pizza at Mack & Mango’s.”

  Well, that sounded innocent enough. The doorbell rang, and Martha sprang out of the chair. “Oh, my! There’s he is! Gotta go!” She quickly scrambled down the stairs. “I’ll be right there, Roland!” she shouted, rushing toward the door.

  I leaned back in my chair, closed my eyes and sighed. After that conversation, I should have had a drink, but I went for the Rolaids instead.

  Chapter 26

  Mona, Mon Ami And Me

  I was ready for surveillance. Hey, I’d read my share of old detective novels! I slid on my sunglasses, black beret, and then tied my long, all-weather coat at the waist with a single objective in mind. The time had arrived for me
to shadow Mona on one of her daily mystery disappearances.

  I reached for the door handle, shouting I was going on errands, but instead, waited around the corner in my car, which was parked off to the side. It was raining so poor visibility was my perfect camouflage. I was hoping she wouldn’t notice me following a car or two behind her.

  Within minutes, she eased on by. I lowered the newspaper I was using to shield myself and smoothly slipped into traffic two cars behind her. She headed north, and then followed as she drove over the toll bridge towards Atlantic City. I wondered if she was going back to the Borgata to meet with the mysterious gentleman that Bill had described.

  Instead, after numerous turns and traffic lights, she surprised me by veering off into an inexpensive motel parking lot. She jumped out, locked her car and quickly headed for cover under the protection of a canopy that ran the length of the one story motel. I parked across the street where I wouldn’t be seen to watch. She searched through her purse, and proceeded down the walkway, then stopped at a specific door, looked both ways, and then opened it and disappeared inside.

  I sat there confused. Why was she going to a motel? For what purpose? A minute later, another car pulled up next to hers, a nondescript, dark sedan. Two men wearing raincoats, I know that sounds so clichéd, but it’s true, got out and then walked directly towards the same door, knocked, and were promptly let inside.

  A few cars passed me on the street as I sat there trying to figure out what was going on. Who were they?

  Binoculars in hand, I scoped for the room number and zeroed in on it. Well, I’ll be! It was number seven!

  I waited patiently for about an hour, keeping close tabs on the door to that room. Finally, the two men exited and drove off, then a minute later, Mona emerged, too. She closed the door, locked it, and drove away in her car, heading back toward the island.