by Rita Lakin
I do ask the most obvious question. “However did you find this place?”
She smiles. “Well, that’s a story in itself. You’ll laugh. Purely by accident. I happened upon Seymour, who was walking in Lauderdale Park. I was walking, too, for exercise. We met one day and the next day we ran into each other again. We sat on a park bench to rest and then we started to talk. He was planning a trip but was worried about leaving his condo empty.”
She suddenly looks at her watch. “Oh, dear. I forgot to tell Stacy something important. I must call her right back before she leaves the house and takes her children to the dentist.”
She quickly moves me toward the door.
As I stand on the landing, she says, “You’re a good listener, Mrs. Langford.”
I startle for a moment. I’m not quite used to my new name.
I’m not about to leave until I say what I came up there to discuss. I face her directly. It’s harsh, but I say it gently. “Arlene doesn’t want you here. Do you think you can change her mind?”
Joyce shifts from one foot to another. She’s in a hurry. She wants me out. I watch her face shift from irritation to bland.
She gives me an answer. “I thought so until that outburst at the pool. There is no forgiveness in her heart. I don’t know how to reach her. I don’t want to cause her pain all over again. What should I do?”
As much as I’d like to, I can’t just tell her to leave. I try a different tack. “Arlene is talking about moving away.”
Joyce hangs her head in shame. “Because of me? Then there’s nothing else for me to do—I should be the one to leave. I’ll start searching for another place to stay immediately.”
I feel sorry for her. Everything she said made sense, so why do I feel so uncomfortable? She was like all angles and sharpness—too slick in the telling?
Then I realize she never fully answered my question about how she met Seymour. I don’t know what to think.
Ida won’t admit she’s as excited as Sophie and Bella about today’s class. Today they get to the good stuff. She’s been wondering if she made a mistake and they were wasting their time in this so-called private eye course. Gatkes seems all over the place. He talks about “good cop” and “bad cop” roles when dealing with prisoners. What’s that got to do with being a PI? Then he sells them clothing. She thinks he’s made all of it up. And besides, where are the other students? She expected a classroom filled with other enthusiastic students. The girls are clueless. They follow whatever Gatkes tells them. But she cannot admit defeat. So she has high hopes about what they’ll learn today: how to defend themselves.
They eagerly follow Mike Gatkes as he leads them to what might be a storage room far back down the hall from their usual classroom. This is a larger apartment than she thought.
He takes out a set of keys and unlocks half a dozen locks on this one door.
“Today you have your chance to buy your weapons of mass destruction.” He laughs. “Kidding.” Gatkes teases with a lilt in his voice. Ida is beginning to wonder, along with all the other things she questions, what’s with the drama queen in their teacher?
He opens the door with a flourish and they enter, eyes growing wide with amazement at the huge quantity of killing equipment. Again, what’s this? Do we kill a flea with an elephant gun?
Ida comments, “Would we really need stuff like this?”
He shrugs. “But a PI should always be prepared. Trust me. You’ll find something useful in here.”
Ida hates with a passion when anyone says trust me. The sign of a big liar.
The girls gaze at row after row of all sizes and shapes of scary-looking guns as Gatkes calls out his favorites. He likes a hefty handgun, especially the Glock. The Taurus revolver is a big seller, too. His KAC SR Enhanced Match Carbines are guaranteed accurate. “But let’s not get too involved here. You girls don’t want to carry.”
Sophie and Bella shake their heads in horrified agreement. No, sir. They don’t want to “carry.”
Ida whistles, staring at the $1,075.99 price tag on something called a Long Range Sniper machine gun. “Who buys this stuff?”
Gatkes shrugs. “Your basic war fighters, law-enforcement and security guys, and law-abiding civilian shooters. Let me show you what you might need.”
He waggles the next item through his fingers. “Here’s a dandy pair of handcuffs. Always useful. The prices range from $88.99 down to a bargain at $13.99.”
He passes a pair to the girls, who handle them as if they were diamond bracelets at Tiffany. They look to their leader, Ida, hopefully.
She says, “Okay on the cuffs, the ones at $13.99.”
Sophie and Bella are gleeful.
Gatkes marks a list he is carrying.
He moves things along, continuing his comments. “You might not need these leg irons, but they’re a sweet buy at $30.99. Or the expandable baton, a giveaway at $19.99.”
Bella whispers to Sophie, “What would we use that for?”
Sophie shrugs. “For a band concert?”
Gatkes says, “What you would definitely need are night-vision glasses. Great for nighttime, low light, and poor weather conditions.” He hands each girl a pair, then hits the switch and they are in darkness.
The girls ooh and aah. Even Ida is impressed by how clearly she can see. The girls move around waving their arms, making silly faces, having fun with being able to see one another.
Ida commands, “Enough already.”
The girls stop short. Gatkes turns the lights back on.
Sophie says, “But we gotta have these. They’re cool.”
“Good choice,” Gatkes says encouragingly. “That’s the top-of-the-line Cougar 492.5, at $99.99. An incredible buy.”
“Whoa,” says Ida. “Way too rich for our blood.”
Her reticence doesn’t faze Gatkes. “I respect your price range. I have a nice Bushnell Nightwatch. For you, $79.99.”
Ida comments, “Gatkes, you sure do like that ninety-nine-cents thing. Why don’t you just say a hundred bucks and be done with it?”
“Would you buy it at a hundred?”
“No.”
“So $99.99 sounds better.”
“I get your drift,” Ida says. “But we’re not buying even for $79.99. Flashlights will have to do.”
The girls are disappointed, but Ida is in charge.
Ida smiles seeing how the girls are awed by her takeover personality. She’s determined to talk them into having her name in the title of their new business.
Gatkes gets them to follow him down another aisle. “Here’s our selection of excellent deterrents. The Tasers and Mace start at $49—”
Ida says it before he does. “—ninety-nine.”
“They’re scary,” Bella says. “Don’t they hurt?”
“Yeah,” adds Sophie. “And what if we accidentally tased or maced ourselves?”
Gatkes agrees. “I see your point. May I suggest the less dangerous, but equally useful pepper spray?”
“What the heck is this?” Ida reads from a nearby tag. “ ‘Counter Assault Bear Deterrent Spray with brush holster.’ ”
“Bears?” Bella asks, moving backward from Ida, looking every which way, terrified.
“Not for you, ladies.” Gatkes winks conspiratorially. “No bears in our beloved Florida, though you might run into the occasional alligator. Kidding.”
He walks them over to another shelf. “I think you’ll like this handy-dandy little number. The Hot Lips lipstick. Looks like an ordinary lipstick for that element of surprise. You get an eight-second burst of pepper and an eight-to-ten-foot range. At a delightful price of $9—”
Now it’s the chorus of three calling it out. “—ninety-nine.”
The girls look eagerly toward their leader.
Ida says, “Sold.”
The girls are delighted.
Gatkes smiles and reaches into another bin. “This last item will put the finishing touch on your basic equipment package. The Kevlar vest.”<
br />
He holds one up, turning it around for them to appreciate.
Sophie and Bella, really getting into it, take turns trying on the various types of vests.
Ida shakes her head as she watches them modeling, turning, dipping, and preening as if on the runway of a Saks Fifth Avenue fashion show.
Gatkes moderates. “Here we have the antislash Covert Ladies’ Hoodie made of aramid fiber, being modeled in pink by Mrs. Fox and in blue by Mrs. Meyerbeer.”
Ida smiles contentedly as she reaches for her credit card. This may be costing them a fortune, but now she realizes Gladdy Gold and Associates was sooooo old-fashioned.
Ida is nervous about going to Rico’s home. Logically, it’s a good idea. Since the girls don’t dare invite Rico to Lanai Gardens, which would give away their secrets, he has opened up his home for their meeting place. Here they can discuss their new business and make future plans, as well as teach Rico what they learn.
It’s a neighborhood far from where they live. She tries to pay attention as Rico drives, but nothing looks familiar. She has no idea where they are. Maybe a mostly Cuban area, from what Ida sees as they drive down his street. People are sitting on steps, chatting. She hears much laughter. And music. Children playing in a tiny pocket park. She considers how quickly they’ve accepted Rico. Enough to follow him without question.
A smile plays across Ida’s face. She is pleased with herself. She has led the girls into what could be murky waters, but so far, all goes well. They are having an adventure. Which is more than what Gladdy Gold and Associates offers.
Rico actually lives in a small house. White clapboard. Neat. Painted. All good signs. Very much like all the rest of the homes.
Ida watches as the girls investigate all six hundred square feet of living space that is Rico’s home. It’s as neat inside as it was outside. The three of them practically fill up all the empty space. All the while Rico is delighted as he examines the stuff they’ve bought in Mike Gatkes’ back room.
“Great choices,” he says as he examines the Kevlar vests.
“Thanks,” Ida says, taking credit.
Rico has graciously allowed them to store their new purchases here as well.
Every inch of this small space is in use. Rico is proud of the fact that he helps support his eight younger sisters and brothers, who live with their mother in Miami. He points to photos of his family on his one small dresser.
The girls are impressed. Not only does he volunteer with the senior driving project, but he holds down three jobs.
He informs the girls of his method. Indicating the computer equipment, he explains how he goes to garage sales and flea markets, buys things, then sells them on eBay. A bicycle takes up most of another wall. This is what he uses to deliver his morning newspapers. He has a steady route that he starts at 5 A.M.
At night he delivers pizzas.
The girls applaud him for his hard work. They are really getting to like this kid.
While they sip their nonalcoholic Mojitos, with their delicious strawberry daiquiri flavor, they admire Rico’s posters of Cuba on the walls.
Rico congratulates them again on their great buys. He’s sure they’ll find good uses for everything they bought. They are ready for business.
“Ouch,” Bella yelps suddenly. “That hurts!”
Ida and Rico turn to see what’s going on. Sophie has put the cuffs on Bella.
Sophie looks chagrined. “I just wanted to see how tight they can get.”
Bella pouts. “Well, now you know. Loosen me.”
Sophie tries.
“No, you’re going the wrong way! Ouch! Ouch!”
Rico comes to the rescue. He unlocks the cuffs and frees Bella.
Bella rubs her wrists to ease the pain. “Just don’t try out the pepper spray on me,” she warns.
“I’m sorry,” Sophie says, meaning it.
Bella gratefully announces, “I think we should invite Rico to be a member of our new company. At least he knows how to safely handle our gear.”
She glowers at Sophie, who hangs her head, feeling bad about hurting her friend. “I agree,” Sophie adds.
They look toward Ida. Rico eyes her eagerly, holding his breath.
Ida puffs up. “Well, it’s all right with me. But I don’t know how he’ll find the time to work with us.”
Rico is thrilled. “You will love having me. I am so good at everything. Especially high-tech things,” he says, holding the handcuffs up and laughing.
Ida has to make sure of their deal. “You still drive us, cheap.”
“Absotively posilutely,” Rico says, purposely mangling the words.
They raise their Mojitos for a toast.
Ida says, “To Ida Franz and Associates!”
Bella and Sophie growl, but this time they don’t argue.
“So Ida led the rebellion. Ida now has her taste of power.” Morrie laughs.
Jack replies, “And we all know how power corrupts.” He laughs, too.
I add, “I’m sure Sophie and Bella want to come back into the fold, but they dare not cross her.”
We’re sitting in a favorite restaurant of ours. Greek food. Greek music. Yum, my favorite, moussaka. And that delicious lemon soup.
We’re having lunch with Morrie, now officially my stepson. Usually, my new family cop hardly ever has time off during the day, so this is a treat. I always enjoy being with Jack’s handsome son. I look at him and then at his equally good-looking dad and I know exactly how Morrie will look when he gets to Jack’s age. Tall. Salt-and-pepper hair. Big and comfortable, like my teddy bear kind of guy. Lucky Morrie.
We are talking about friendship.
I add, “We hardly see much of the girls anymore. They’re out very early and even when they’re home, they aren’t spending time with us. The most we’ve gotten out of them the few times we’ve actually seen them, Bella mentioned that they’re with this Rico boy, who is driving them around since I was no longer their designated driver. Ida wasn’t happy about her blurting out even that.”
Morrie dips his pita bread into the hummus. “Well, whatever the girls are doing, I hope they’re keeping out of trouble. I’d hate to have to arrest them for breaking and entering or something.”
That gets another laugh.
“Do you want me to do some checking up on this guy? Find out his last name? Make sure he’s legit?”
I answer, “Not yet. What’s that old political expression? Let her swing in the wind for a while. If it sounds dangerous, I’ll let you know. Bella will tell me.”
“So how’s your love life, Morrie?” Jack asks, changing the subject. He’s not one for subtlety, when it comes to his son. “We haven’t seen much of you lately.”
Morrie actually blushes. He sighs. “All right, you twisted my arm. Yes, there is someone. She’s smart. She’s beautiful. She’s funny. But I’m keeping her under wraps until I think she can handle good old Dad’s friendly inquisitions.”
Jack pretends to pout. “Bring her around. I promise to be on my best behavior.”
“Actually, Dad. And Gladdy. We’re very busy becoming good friends. Romance might come later.”
“Good thinking,” I say.
The waiter arrives with our lamb kabobs. We tuck in to enjoy them.
“My turn for quickly changing the subject,” Morrie says, chomping away. “Speaking of friends. What’s the latest with the Arlene and Joyce situation? Have they kissed and made up yet?”
Jack looks to me to fill him in.
“Actually, things are worse. Arlene is falling apart, having Joyce show up in her life. Joyce promised me she’d look around for another place to live. But I don’t get the feeling she’s looking too hard. I think she keeps hoping she can change Arlene’s mind.”
“And Seymour? Still no word?”
“Not a word,” I say.
“Hmm, strange.” Morrie passes the dolmas to me. “What’s your take on the situation?”
Jack jumps in. “Frankly, that
‘I’m looking for simplicity’ line doesn’t ring true. That woman is or was very rich. She could probably live anywhere she wants. I ask myself, Why Lanai Gardens?”
I agree. “She’s a regular windup Chatty Cathy doll with me. She blabs and blabs, throwing out all kinds of unasked-for information. As if by dazzling us with her footwork we won’t notice what’s really going on. As Shakespeare once wrote, ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’
“Wait a minute! Just wait a minute.” I wave my fork full of spanakopita in the air in excitement. “What about this? Which came first, the chicken or the egg?”
“Which means …?” Morrie asks.
“She said it was fate that brought her to that apartment so she could meet Arlene again. What if … what if she knew all along that Arlene lived there and she made it her business to meet Seymour?”
The two men stop eating to listen.
Jack gets it. “So she could replay her past. Joyce needed to live in the apartment underneath Arlene!”
Morrie turns to me. “When did you come up with that?”
“Actually, right now. It just hit me. That would connect the dots. If she wanted to see her old friend that badly again, this rich lady was willing to pay an easily led old man enough money to get him out of his supersafe cocoon. She assumed, and rightly, Arlene still hated her and wouldn’t see her if she tried to call her directly.
“She wanted the opportunity to win her back, so she went to all this trouble to ‘accidentally’ move into our condo.”
Jack says, “Which, unfortunately, is not going too well. Arlene’s anger runs too deep.”
I add, “What if Joyce did all of it with him and for him? It would make sense considering Leah’s description of her brother. Joyce must have taken him to get his passport, helped make the travel plans. That trip, whatever it is, cost a lot. Why else would she give this odd man that much money in order for her to live in that depressing apartment?”
“I think Gladdy’s onto something,” Jack says. “This makes more sense than thinking Seymour could do it all by himself.”
Morrie says, pleased, “Not only does your idea sound feasible, it tells us something else we haven’t yet thought of.”
