by Sandi Scott
Murder at the Pool Party
A Pet Portraits Cozy Mystery
Book #7
Sandi Scott
Copyright © 2018 Sandi Scott and Gratice Press
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at [email protected]
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction
Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Dedication
To Ruth Cottrill,
founder of Minpinerie Dog Rescue, and owner of the most loving and generous heart,
By living each day with kindness, love, and tolerance, you are a role model for all of us.
Ursula Hiratsuka
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Letter from the Author
About the Book Cover
PREVIEW: Murder at the Bonfire
PREVIEW: Crêpe Murder
RECIPES
Pineapple Pie With Praline Topping
Caramel Sundae With Toffee Praline Cookie Crumble
Summer Stone Fruit Carpaccio With Vanilla Bean Syrup and Ginger Cream
Frozen Kiwi Coconut Margarita
MORE BOOKS BY SANDI SCOTT
Chapter 1
“I just love when Sydney Portier says They call me Mr. Tibbs!” Georgie said as she linked her arm through Obby’s when they exited the theater. She had been putting off going to the movies with him for a couple of weeks. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go to the show with him. On the contrary, she loved going to the movies. There was something eternally romantic about sitting in a dark theater with a huge screen in front of her, a tub of popcorn and a box of Swedish Fish in her lap and good company next to her.
“In the Heat of the Night is one of my favorites.” Obby said. “I’m so glad this theater shows the classics.”
“The Music Box is a rare bird.” Georgie chirped.
The Music Box Theater in Chicago was an old-style theater that had only the smallest improvements made to it over the years so that the toilets wouldn’t clog and the fire chief could rest easy knowing everything was up to code.
It maintained its crown molding, the tin roof, the art deco lighting and intimate seating in one auditorium for a maximum of two hundred people. The carpeting was the same garish bright red it had been when it was originally constructed in the twenties. Stories circulated that Al Capone and Elliot Ness had seen moving pictures here; at different times, of course.
Through the years it had become a home for film festival winners and cult classics alongside forever classics like In the Heat of the Night, Casablanca, Planet Nine from Outer Space, or A Day at the Races.
The only drawback was that it was a bit pricier than a mega-plex, but Georgie didn’t mind spending extra for good ambiance.
“At Halloween time they run Nosferatu and have live piano accompaniment.”
“Is that so? Well, we may have to schedule our All Hallows Eve festivities early. How about we plan to see that together?”
“Halloween is a long way off, Obby. Besides, Aleta and I usually get dressed up and sit outside for the trick-or-treaters. As much as I’d love a black and white horror movie I think seeing the little kids is more fun.”
“You are a rare bird yourself, Georgie Kaye.” Obby said as he began to slow his steps. “I can honestly say that in all my travels I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”
“Well, not every woman can get away with hot pink combat boots and a faux leather trench coat.” She joked nervously. It was becoming a pattern with Obby that he would try and steer the conversation to more serious matters like dating, and commitments, and the future whenever he spoke of Georgie’s uniqueness. “Aleta said if Sid Vicious had a grandmother she’d look like me.”
Obby didn’t laugh.
“Why do you do that?” he asked.
“Do what?”
“Bring up your sister every time I try and compliment you?”
Georgie shrugged her shoulders and shook her head.
“Georgie, I don’t know what else I have to do to convince you that my feelings for you are genuine. I’m not trying to rush you.”
“You’re not? That’s a relief. For a minute there I thought that’s what was happening.” As much as she wanted to drench that sentence in sarcasm she didn’t. Obby was a good man. He had all the makings of a wonderful companion. They both adored the arts, paintings by the Old Masters especially. They enjoyed the same kind of food and had wonderful discussions on everything from books to politics to music to religion and everything in between. She looked at him pleadingly.
Obby was a gentleman. Georgie could tell by the way he held onto her hand in the crook of his arm while they walked. He waited until she sat before taking his seat at a restaurant. She could also see something deeper in his eyes when he looked at her. It wasn’t lust. But it was a longing. It was something men felt. Women were different.
No matter what anyone tries to say men and women are different. The same as the ocean and the sky are different. Completely. But one reflects the other back at itself. That is what women do. Obby saw his shortcomings as well as his accomplishments in Georgie’s face when he talked to her. She accepted them all, like women often do.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He said sadly.
“Obby, you have no idea how wonderful I think you are.” Georgie took a deep breath and pulled her hand away from his arm. “It’s just I feel I have been given a rare gift. I have a family, friends, a career, and my independence. I will not give up any of them. Not now. Not when to do so would be to give back that gift ungratefully. Does that make sense?”
At that moment a cool breeze swished down Belmont Avenue from Lake Michigan. Georgie inhaled, deeply savoring the goose-bumps it raised over her skin. It was refreshing after the heat of the day. She watched Obby.
“Have I hurt you terribly, Obby? I’ve always tried to be honest with you. Don’t make me say it isn’t you, it’s me. Although it’s true, it sounds so corny.”
“I guess I’m just getting used to learning patience again. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to wait for anything other than theater tickets.”
“Well you know what they say. Patience is a virtue.”
“And that is the silver lining?”
“That and the longer we stay friends, the longer we stay friends.” Georgie batted her lashes, unaware she’d folded her hands in front of her, almost like she was praying Obby would understand.
When he started to laugh Georgie slipped her hand back into the crook of his arm. Pablo, Georgie’s orange vintage Volkswagen Beetle was waiting for her on the corner.
“Can I give you a lift home?” Georgie asked.
“That sounds like a good idea.”
As Georgie d
rove she laughingly told Obby of her latest painting job. “Can you believe it? My subject is a French poodle that literally wears a tiara, has her nails painted and enjoys weekly visits to the dog groomer!” At first Georgie was sure her new client, whom she met while in line at the all-organic grocery she was at with Aleta, was going to be high maintenance.
“She’s quite down to earth, actually.” Georgie told Obby. “Her name is Zelda and she has no children. Got to retire early from a little luck in the stock market. She just lives her life eating her organic food and hanging out with her dog, appropriately named Princess.”
“That doesn’t sound bad at all.”
“I don’t think so. Not to mention the dog’s hair is wonderful to paint. The texture is a real challenge because too little detail will make it look thin and too much will make it look like cotton balls.”
When Georgie finally pulled up at the curb outside Obby’s apartment building she realized she had been rambling. She thanked him for a nice evening but neither of them made mention of doing it again soon. For that, Georgie was thankful.
Her home was only a couple of blocks away but tonight it felt like miles. She had some frozen Petite Fours in her freezer that she had bought two weeks ago at a normal grocery store. Although Zelda was paying her good money for the portrait of Princess there was no way Georgie was interested in going back to that grocery store. Their dessert section was a display of nightmarish concoctions that had no sugar, no milk, and no butter.
“It wouldn’t hurt us to eat healthy sometimes.” Aleta said as she looked over the pastries with Georgie.
“Not hurt, Aleta. It might just kill us.” Georgie pointed at a flourless, sugarless chocolate cake as if it were a writhing, squirming cell culture.
“But it looks so pretty.”
“That’s how they get you.” Georgie said loudly. “It’s not the real thing. It’s an exact replica. Do you know what this is? This is Invasion of the Body Snatchers!”
“Will you lower your voice? Everyone is looking at us.” Aleta shook her head.
“Yeah, because I’m right. Notice how they have no emotions on their faces!” Georgie bit the heel of her hand to emphasize her terror and embarrass Aleta a bit more.
The memory made Georgie laugh. She decided she was going to ask Aleta when they were going back to that grocery store knowing the answer would be never. But when she pulled into her driveway the smile fell away from her face.
Georgie’s bungalow style home was as unique as she was. There were weird and tacky lawn decorations and the grass wasn’t always cut. The shutters could use a little paint and the driveway could stand a new coat of blacktop. Thankfully, her neighbor never complained since it was her twin sister Aleta.
Aleta was sitting out on Georgie’s stoop with a man Georgie knew all too well.
“Look who came to visit?” Aleta shouted as Georgie got out of her car.
“Stan, what are you doing here?” Georgie sighed in exasperation.
Stanley Toon was Georgie’s ex-husband. After her night with Obby ending on such a sour note, the last thing she wanted was to deal with her ex-husband who had the nerve to show up, unannounced, looking as handsome and fit as ever. Would this nightmare ever end?
“This is certainly an unexpected surprise.” Georgie pursed her lips together, glaring at Stan.
“My, you are looking prettier than ever, Georgie.” Stan turned to Aleta and handed back to her the glass he’d been sipping from. “Thanks for the lemonade.”
“Anytime, Stan.” Aleta looked at her sister, bounced her eyebrows and went inside her own house. From the look on Georgie’s face Aleta knew her sister wanted some privacy.
“What are you doing here, Stan?”
“What? A man can’t stop by and visit the mother of his children without wanting something?” He came closer to Georgie. She could smell his cologne. She hated when he smelled so good. What a jerk.
Georgie hunched one shoulder in response. “Have the kids called you? Jonathan and Andrew promised me they would. Catherine said she spoke to you at work.”
“Yes. I’ve spoken to all three of our babies.” He stepped a little closer. “You ever think of having another?”
“Good grief, Stan. We are well over the child-bearing years. Have you forgotten Catherine’s little bundle? We’re grandparents.”
“True. Maybe you’d like to go through the motions. For old times sake?”
Georgie hated that Stan could make her laugh when all she wanted to do was spit nails. He hadn’t lost a single hair on his head since they got married. After he left her in search of gold in the mountains Georgie didn’t expect to see him again. She had filed for divorce after Stan returned from his adventures and expected to pick up his family again right where he left off. The divorce had been final for some twenty years now, but Stan never gave up trying to get back in Georgie’s good graces.
When Stan returned he’d lost some weight, gained some muscle and had that healthy glow of a man who did real work with his hands. That was another thing Georgie had hated him for.
One of her old friends from school had her husband run off after suffering a mid-life crisis, too. He wanted to see the world, so he took his money and his car and set out for California. Within three months he was broke, overweight from eating fast food and suffering from eczema that was caused by nerves.
He was so pitiful when he came back his wife took him back instantly. Georgie didn’t blame her. He had the decency to be a mess when he returned. Did Stan ever think to do that? No. He came home looking like an ad for Viagra.
“Stan, I am really not in the mood for you. Did you need something or not?”
“No. I don’t need anything. How come you are all dressed up?”
“I had a date.”
“He didn’t bring you home?”
“I drove myself.”
“He didn’t bring you flowers or candy or anything?”
“He bought me popcorn and candy at the movie.”
“You know, Georgie, I’d be happy to take you to a movie anytime you want.”
“Right. As long as the movie has explosions, lasers and nudity.”
“That’s not true, Georgie. After all, I went and saw that one movie with you didn’t I?”
“Please! If you are talking about the time we went to the show to see My Left Foot you complained that you couldn’t understand their accents and then fell asleep. Fell asleep!”
Stan looked down at his cowboy boots. He had started wearing them after his adventure into the mountains.
“You haven’t forgiven me for that yet?”
“Nope.”
“Georgie, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I’m sorry before you understand that my feelings for you haven’t changed.”
Not twenty minutes ago Obby said almost exactly the same thing. What had been planned as a fun night out had turned into a Twilight Zone episode for Georgie.
“I have a headache.”
“There’s a cure for that. All it requires is a little candle light, some soft music and...”
“And you getting the hell off my property.” Georgie snapped. Stan looked at her as if she’d slapped him, shocked by her language but Georgie refused to feel bad about it. On any other night she’d have never raised her voice, let alone used a swear word. But tonight was different. Tonight, she’d had it with the whole world and wanted to be inside her own house with her dog, her painting supplies and a pint of Haagen Daz chocolate chocolate chip ice cream. “Good night, Stan.”
She went inside to find Bodhi sitting patiently by the door. Once the door was deadbolted and the security chain was on Georgie exhaled, picked up her pup and gave him a good squeeze.
“You’re the only man for me, Bodhi.” The pug happily licked her face before wriggling like a worm to be put down. “You won’t believe the night I’ve had.”
After a long hot shower and a fresh pair of pajamas, Georgie decided it was time to spread her wi
ngs a little.
“Bodhi, we are going to make some new friends.” She said as she sat down in front of her laptop computer. “And we are dragging Auntie Aleta with us, whether she likes it or not.”
Georgie had been toying with the idea of joining an online singles group. It wasn’t a dating site so much as it was a place where people of a similar age could get together and have fun. The site she had focused on was called ExcellentOver50. It boasted a diverse group of people with several events a month specifically for members to attend.
“Here we go, Bodhi.” She hoisted the pug on her lap. Bodhi quickly laid down. Before long a slow, steady snoring was coming from him. Not long after that Georgie was accepting her first invitation. There was a pool party early tomorrow afternoon in the posh suburb of Winnetka.
“Aleta is going to freak out.” Georgie giggled to herself as she closed her laptop with a snap.
Chapter 2
“I haven’t worn a bathing suit in years.”
“Aleta, we aren’t posing in the Sport Illustrated Swimsuit Edition. We are just going to a social gathering that happens to be around a pool. I’m sure not everyone will be in the pool. There are bound to be some prudes like you there.”
“Let me guess. You’re wearing a string bikini?”
“Of course not. I’ve never met these people.” Georgie tugged at her blouse as if she were trying to cover herself. “But I am wearing a bathing suit underneath my favorite boho style maxi dress.”
“I’ll go on one condition.”
“What?”
“You tell me what was up with Stan yesterday.”
Georgie rolled her eyes. She explained how wonderful her date with Obby was until it wasn’t. Stan being on her front step when she got home just drove home the fact she was seriously in love with her own freedom.
“Look, if I had either one of those guys in my house I wouldn’t be able to just go do something like this.”
“Certainly not a singles group party at a pool.”
“Exactly. But I also wouldn’t be able to come over for breakfast every day. You wouldn’t be able to just pop in any time day or night. Don’t even get me started on the money.”
