Without Any Warning (A Samantha Jamison Mystery Volume 2)

by Peggy A. Edelheit

  Betty and Hazel nodded simultaneously.

  “You go on and leave, Sam. We’ll clean it up,” said Betty.

  “It’s no bother at all,” added Hazel.

  I turned to go, but then hesitated. “…Are you all sure?”

  “Absolutely,” said Martha. “Now, go!”

  “The broom is in the garage.” I offered, turning away and smiling. I caught a few last words as the door slowly closed behind me.

  “My goodness,” said Betty, looking all around the foyer. “Will you look at that? Why …pieces are everywhere!”

  “Two vases caused all this mess?” asked Hazel dubiously.

  “I told her they were an accident waiting to happen,” complained Martha. “Just look at that, way over there! I can see fragments all the way into the cabana and its bathroom for crying out loud! This is gonna take forever! Now, I ask you two. What was that girl thinking?”

  Chapter 73

  What’s Gotcha So Shook Up?

  I was frustrated after that wasted surveillance trip and casing the Borgata Casino once more, turning up nothing. And now, I had just ended a cell phone call with Bill, who was insisting I go with him to Atlantic City at my earliest convenience. Needless to say, I told him I was somewhat overwhelmed with all the people in my house at the moment and would have to think about it. No way was I being anybody’s lucky charm!

  You see, when my name was brought up in normal conversations, luck was not exactly the first thing that people who knew me personally thought of.

  I quickly brushed those thoughts off, trying to focus on what Barbara was saying after bursting into my room, looking upset.

  “…I’m still so shook up!” a distraught Barbara exclaimed, clearly disturbed about something.

  Dare I ask? “…What’s the matter?”

  “I was debating whether to tell you or not because it’s too bizarre to explain,” she said breathlessly. “But I’ll try. The phone rang earlier and I answered it because it was right next to me in the living room where I was reading my book. …You don’t think that’s invading your privacy, do you?”

  I laughed uneasily. “No, of course not! Why should I?”

  Everyone else has!

  She hesitated. “…It was the strangest phone call I have ever received. I finally had to come on in here and tell you all about it.”

  Now, there were a lot of responses I could have come up with, but nothing spontaneously popped out.

  “Well,” Barbara explained, now leaning forward, “I said, ‘Hello.’ And what do you think was the response I got?”

  I hesitated, gun-shy out of sheer habit lately. “…What?”

  “A male voice said, ‘Cats got nine lives, but you got only one! Now, sing me the tune that I want to hear, baby.’ Well, I didn’t know what else to do, but hang up. I thought this person might be some kind of pervert, calling up innocent women at random! You just never know nowadays!”

  My mind raced. Obviously, he was referring to the missing disc. And, he thought Barbara was yours truly.

  I couldn’t think coherently at this point because too much was going on. I was involved in so many lies and cover-ups while trying to sort the whole thing out, I couldn’t keep up with what I had told what to whom, but was determined to figure it all out.

  “Barbara, you had every right to hang up that phone. Obviously, whoever it was had the wrong number or, as you said, was some kind of nut, trying to stir up trouble dialing random numbers.”

  There! That sounded rational, even to me! I sat back, proud of my explanation and smiled.

  She didn’t. “That’s not all,” Barbara countered. “Because then he said, ‘Sam, this is my last warning.’ If it was random or a mistake, let me ask this, Samantha: How did he know your name?”

  I looked up, and there, staring at me, were Martha, Betty and Hazel, all listening in at the doorway to my bedroom.

  Uh, oh! Busted!

  I guess this is what authors sometimes referred to as a gotcha moment.

  Chapter 74

  Circling More Than The Truth

  I suppose you could say this was that part of the story where the wagons instinctively began circling for protection. Where women were concerned, when one was in distress, they all gathered around in self-defense, especially if they were all friends. It was just human nature. My problem? How should I explain what was going on without putting them at risk? This Joey, who I had no idea what he looked like, or who he was, was roaming freely among us, and currently unidentified. Might he be David, who was pretending to be FBI? I did know two things though. I needed help and I needed my friends!

  Martha threw me a look from the doorway. “I’ll open the Pinot Grigio. I think we all need to go upstairs and talk, don’t we, Sam?”

  I shrugged. “…I guess so,” I said reluctantly, but actually I felt somewhat relieved. I had been feeling pretty lonely and scared, if the truth be told, trying to figure this out on my own. I got up and followed them up the stairs to the living room.

  When we were all seated comfortably, there was the usual quiet staring going on all around. You know, for a group of women who talked it up a lot, we sure stared a lot! I know one thing; we sure communicated more with a stare than most. I figured they were trying to decide who should start. To make it speed things along, I saved them the trouble by jumping in first.

  “Where should I begin?” I asked, more to myself than to the others, thankful Mona wasn’t around because she was still on my suspicious behavior list and she was about to be the main topic of conversation.

  “Since you’ve been acting so strange lately,” said Martha impatiently, “how about at the beginning when all this nonsense was first set in motion when your girlfriend, Mona, arrived?”

  Leave it to Martha to get right to the heart of the matter. As I said before, she was never one to mince words.

  “You’re right. That’s where it all started…” And so I began explaining everything, from when Mona first called and visited, and then proceeded onto Joey, then the mystery intruder, the mugger, Bill, David, Crystal, Pat, the FBI, the missing disc, all the evidence and anything else I could think of, ending with the zoo incident and my alleged ties with the Mafia.

  “The Mafia?” croaked Martha, taken back by the last story. “Well, I’ll be. You sure have been one busy woman!”

  “Thank goodness we don’t have that nonsense going on in Highlands!” said Betty.

  Hazel just snickered. “Oh no, we’ve never seen intrigue or deception in Highlands, North Carolina. Have we, girls?”

  Barbara shook her head, trying not to burst out laughing. “Why I am shocked to the core you ladies would even suggest such scandalous behavior ever went on there!”

  “Why not?” added Martha. “Well, so much for Sam’s previous book. But we’re not here to rehash. We all know how that one turned out. We’re here to make history getting this one solved, and by the sound of it, pretty darn quick!”

  “Yes,” added Hazel. “By the looks of things, if we don’t do something fast, this Joey might waste Sam.” She turned to Betty. “That is the correct criminal terminology, right?”

  Betty nodded, proud of her friend. “Why Hazel, that was a good take on the situation! Bravo my dear!”

  We were not only circling the truth, but by the sound of their conversation, we were circling the funny farm, too.

  You know, truthfully speaking, it was kind of comforting!

  Chapter 75

  Pounding Away At What?

  My head was pounding away the next morning. Apparently we were all in the same boat. “I think I may want to die today,” I moaned, sipping coffee.

  Barbara came out to the deck carrying her mug and slumped into a chair next to mine. “Another day and another time, I might actually try to talk you out of that thought, but honestly speaking Sam, I’m afraid I might like to join you.”

  Hazel staggered out onto the deck, shielding her eyes. “Where are my shades? I think I got wasted last
night.”

  Betty was right behind her, carrying her coffee, already wearing sunglasses. “I’d argue the point of your questionable double entendre, Hazel, but I can’t seem to muster the strength at the moment, you know, remnants of inebriation.”

  We all turned as Martha came whistling and waltzing happily out to greet us, cheerful as could be and carrying a tray with more coffee and a lot of donuts and pastries.

  “Good morning ladies! Breakfast anyone?”

  I looked over at the tray. “Ugh! No food!”

  Barbara turned to look too. “No… thank you!”

  Betty shuddered. “Eat? How does that woman do it?”

  “We’ve known her decades and still don’t know!” said Hazel. “Maybe she isn’t human.”

  Martha laughed. “I’m mortal all right, a little frayed around the edges, but definitely the real deal.” She surveyed our sorry-ass crew that was currently half out of it. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you ladies have never been under the influence before!”

  “Not quite in that fashion,” offered Barbara pathetically.

  I looked over to Martha and then the rest of them. “You know, I think you guys emptied my wine rack last night.”

  Martha harrumphed in annoyance. “Please! You’re all amateurs! Why in my day…”

  Everyone moaned loudly.

  After a brief pause, Martha clapped her hands. “Ladies! Ladies! We have got to come up with a plan to figure this out. You can’t let a little thing like a hangover stop you! Now, let’s get with it. Let’s step up to the plate here! Sam’s in trouble and we’re obviously meant to be here to help her out.” She slowly scanned us. “Now, what have you all got to say?”

  Barbara gave Martha a dirty look. “I’m taking a nap!”

  “Did we all participate in binge drinking?” Betty asked to no one in particular.

  “She’d make a good target for a hit,” protested Hazel.

  I looked at Martha, peeved. “Obviously, we’re all suffering with the exception of you. How you do it, I don’t know. I really don’t care. I am going into my room to a quiet zone, hopefully to sleep this pounding headache off. If you ever try to have group therapy with this crew with wine again, I will personally hand you over to this Joey, whoever he is!”

  Martha just laughed at me. “The pain will set you free!”

  “Go away!” I said, waving her off, frustrated. That woman had no shame whatsoever! She was unbelievable!

  When I was older, I wanted to be just like her! Damn it!

  Chapter 76

  BBC & D

  Bothered By Clay & David

  According to a shell shocked Betty and Hazel, without any warning, they were informed that Clay, their boss and owner of The Book Worm, had recently taken a leave of absence from his bookstore in Highlands, and that he hired a new manager. The girls were clearly upset, not knowing what their future status might be.

  As for Clay’s whereabouts, he apparently disappeared for parts unknown, but said he would stay in touch; his unpredictable, mysterious behavior seemed to be back in play. I half-expected that. So, what else was new?

  I shoved all that off to the side, forcing myself to reconsider Clay’s cryptic note and framed painting he had sent via the bookworms. I never did make heads or tails from either of those gifts. My thoughts at the moment were riddled with more question marks though. Was the note meant to be instructive or a warning? Could it possibly be both? Why send it to me through Betty and Hazel?

  According to them, they had no clue as to the meaning either. Apparently, that was for me to figure out. I hated men who always thought they were ahead of the game because then I always felt I had to prove them wrong.

  Although I sort of understood the correlation between that woman and me contemplating at the beach, I still…

  Just then my phone rang.

  “Hello.”

  “Samantha, let’s talk.” It was David.

  “Where? When?” I asked, desperate for more input.

  “My place. You pick the time,” he offered.

  “Give me a few minutes,” I replied. “My entourage needs to know they have to stay home.”

  Twenty minutes later I was seated at David’s counter, sipping coffee. For my sanity, I asked him to shut the shades facing my house, knowing my posse had their binoculars focused in my direction. I needed to concentrate and couldn’t if I knew several sets of eyes were honing in on us, watching our every move.

  “What’s up?” I asked. “Why the spontaneous invite?”

  “I wanted to tell you I’m not part Mona’s fiasco, other than her being on my radar for playing the FBI.

  Why was he offering me this now? “Playing the FBI?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yeah, well from what I’ve observed lately, I’m reserving judgment on you and your version about what’s gong on until all the dust settles on this whole thing.”

  He eyed me cautiously. “…She’s tangled up in some unusual business. In case you didn’t know, I dabble in other areas besides art.”

  I smiled. “I figured as much. How did she end up on your list?”

  “She’s on a lot of people’s lists these last few years.”

  I threw him a look. “I know. That’s nothing new as far as I’m concerned. What else have you got?”

  “First of all, she has no idea who this Joey is. She fabricated knowing him to protect herself with the FBI. She was running rogue on her own and got caught up in a sting that they were already running on the Mafia. She just happened to be working in the Mafia’s employment and tried to pull a fast one on both of them.

  “I felt you should know that she initially had no idea at the time that the mob was involved, and what she’s told you, that part was true. But when she caught them at double disking the Feds, she figured she’d make some spare change by playing both sides. That scenario obviously backfired. Now she’s ended up trying to protect you because of her mistake in your unintended exposure.”

  Chapter 77

  Firing Back

  Okay. That was an answer I was not expecting. Who was double dealing who? Mona? David? The FBI? Without sounding like Martha, my personal gumshoe, I fired back, “What actually went down?”

  “With who?” He shook his head. “I can’t believe that this whole thing has morphed.”

  Morphed into what?

  I was hanging by the thinnest of threads. This affair was so intertwined, I didn’t think I would ever make any sense of it, but I was giving it my best shot.

  Could I catch him off guard?

  “Let me ask you something out of left field.”

  David looked at me sharply. “What’s that?”

  “Did anyone mention to you a note that came with the painting Clay gave me?” I had this odd feeling.

  He waited a beat, and then another.

  I was sorry to see that reaction, hoping for his complete surprise as to what I was talking about. Either he knew him or wasn’t getting what I was alluding too.

  Why the big pause?

  “…No. Why would I?” he finally offered. “Who’s Clay?”

  “Never mind,” I said, disappointed, as I mentally filed his too little, too late response. I circled back to Mona. “What happens now? What exactly is going on with this Joey? Is he real or just imagined?”

  “Joey’s apparently real all right. It’s the identity that’s one big blank to everyone, including the FBI. They’ve only got a name.”

  “Interesting. Especially since it appears, at least the last time I heard, this Joey is currently after me.”

  David stared at me. “I know.”

  I stared back. “I was sort of hoping you didn’t.”

  He smiled. “I know.”

  I smiled back. “So tell me, what do I do now?”

  “Stay off Joey’s screen by staying close to home.”

  “You know I can’t do that. I’m not ready for company. I don’t like my personal space invaded by unsavory in
dividuals that are looking for something I obviously don’t have.” Yet.

  He looked at me. “So what are you going to do?”

  “Something that I simply can’t avoid at this point; try to find what Joey’s looking for before Joey does.”

  “Don’t,” David said frowning. “I have to keep you safe.”

  “For who? You or someone else?” I asked.

  He just gave me that effortless smile of his. “Wouldn’t you like to know!”

  “Can I ask you another question?” I asked.

  “Go ahead.”

  “What do I do about Mona? I mean can I trust her?”

  He laughed. “About as much as you can trust me.”

  “That’s not exactly what I wanted to hear.”

  “Yeah, but for now, that’s all you’re going to get.”

  “What about later?” I asked, flirting with the unknown.

  “We’ll just have to wait and see about that. By the way, what was all that racket the other day by the trash bin with Martha and those two other elderly ladies dumping stuff?”

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you, I broke two vases on my landing. I heard it took them forever to clean it all up.”

  Ah, revenge was sweet.

  Chapter 78

  Trading More Than Information

  I watched his panic resonate through a vein of his that began pulsing away. Then he got real close, right in my face, barely whispering, “…What?”

  I smiled, putting on my jacket, getting ready to leave. “I got clumsy racing down the stairs and knocked two over.”

  “…Where exactly did that happen?”

  “…Mmm. Near the bottom. Why? Is there some kind of problem?” My art history classes finally paid off when I caught sight of them the other day. Like Martha said, ‘they were an accident just waiting to happen.’ Or theft.

  He closed his eyes and mumbled something incoherent.

  “Hey,” I said. “I’m really not that concerned. Pat said they’re only reproductions. The replacements won’t kill me.”