Too Close For Comfort (Samantha Jamison Mystery Book 9)

by Peggy A. Edelheit

  He brightened. “You used to live in Medford Lakes?”

  “Yes. For a short time. Over a decade ago.”

  Removing his gloves, we shook hands. “Well then, I’m Mr. Prescott.”

  Was he my former neighbor? It sure looked like it.

  I wasn’t sure if he remembered me, so I said, “Nice to meet you.”

  I heard sighs coming from the rear of the car. He was a male and not wearing any wedding ring, which meant one thing. He was fair game according to Tony’s backseat.

  I held back a smirk.

  Were my senior crew a glimpse of my future?

  Mr. Prescott glanced at the ladies then back at me. “And I have the pleasure of meeting...?”

  Should I tell the truth? Sure, but not why I was there.

  “My name is Samantha Jamison, I...”

  Before I could say more, he said, “You look familiar.”

  Martha cut in. “Why, Bill, Bill Prescott, is that you?”

  He leaned in further and took a closer look at her in the backseat and grinned broadly. “...Martha? Well, I’ll be!”

  “Almost didn’t recognize you with all your gray hair,” laughed Martha. “I met you and Mary on that one cruise ages ago. I believe we consumed much wine on that trip.”

  “Mary?” I asked, vaguely recalling that familiar name.

  “Bill’s wife,” she explained. “We had a great time!”

  “Mary’s long gone,” Bill said sadly, shaking his head.

  “What happened?” Martha asked, concern in her words.

  “She died about ten years ago,” he replied wistfully.

  “Oh, Bill, I’m so sorry to hear...” Then Martha paused.

  I sucked in air, then shook it off. Ridiculous.

  But we had both done the math instantly. About ten years ago I saw someone burying something in the woods. An image of the Pine Barrens and those mafia rumors loomed. I tried to dismiss it. I knew I was thinking off the reservation again, but then so was Martha. And by the tension and silence ensuing Bill’s words, everyone else was probably on that same page.

  Was it possible? A minute dragged by. Then another.

  Tony jumped in, “By the way, I’m Tony, their driver.”

  Bill leaned lower and winked at him. “You lucky devil!”

  “Am I a devil? Absolutely! Am I lucky? Not yet,” said Tony, nodding toward me, and winking at Bill, knowingly.

  The tension broke when everybody cracked up.

  Luck had nothing to do with this.

  Chapter 22

  ...& Learn

  We eagerly accepted when Bill invited us to sit out on his deck for some iced tea to catch up on old times with Martha. After exiting the car, eye contact traveled back and forth between us women, as Tony walked ahead with Bill.

  After getting settled on Bill’s backyard deck with our iced teas, I discreetly glanced over to the house I had rented next door, while Martha and Bill reminisced. I couldn’t see over the fencing, but the upper rear of the house appeared the same, master bedroom deck overlooking the pool too.

  Bill’s property, like the one next door, was bordered by the woods that led down to the lake. If my memory was accurate, his property stopped like a pointed end of a pie shape, making it too small at the lake end for any kind of dock because that was the narrowest part of the lake. His woods weren’t as sizable as my rental’s was. Luckily, the dock where I had rented was sizable, which would work if anyone approached the property after dark via a boat. But that in itself could pose multiple problems.

  Was the old worn path still there?

  First we’d have to hike uphill in dense underbrush, in the dark, in the woods, up to the stockade fence line, then...

  I felt a nudge in my ribs: Tony. He briefly cut his eyes in my direction, hinting to pay attention to what was going on at the table.

  Apparently, everyone was now staring at me, expecting an answer to some question I had no clue how to answer because of my mental strategizing on a highly-improbable and ridiculously-sounding, rear lakeside approach.

  “So, am I right?” Bill asked, smiling expectantly.

  “...Right?” I said, quickly eyeing the others for help.

  Martha jumped right in, covering for me.

  “Ha! Samantha’s always dreaming up lethal plotlines for her next mystery, aren’t you?” she asked me, winking slyly.

  “Guilty as charged,” I said, self-consciously. “Sorry.”

  “Well, let me repeat myself,” Bill said. “I know you.”

  I noticed the others waiting to see how I’d answer.

  I had to play this carefully.

  “You’re the young lady that rented the place next door!”

  My mouth opened, but then closed.

  I had to think.

  “...Very observant on your part,” I said. “Since then I’ve gotten married, become a widow and now write mysteries.”

  “Well that explains all the journal writing you did.”

  I froze. “Excuse me?”

  How did he know that?

  “You used to sit in your hammock swinging away and writing in some kind of journal if I remember correctly.”

  With the stockade fencing, how had he seen that?

  As though reading my thoughts, he pointed up to his second floor window, directly facing the neighboring yard.

  I glanced up. A perfect view to the other backyard.

  He began chuckling. “Not me, my wife was the one who saw you out there during the day a few times and told me.”

  I relaxed. “Can you tell me who ended up buying it?”

  “What? Oh, the house next door that you rented?”

  “I bet there’s been a few owners since then,” I said.

  “There has only been one person. A woman. Her name is Marilyn Chambers.”

  Now, what were the odds there’s two Marilyns in this?

  Chapter 23

  Figuring It All Out...Or Not

  “Marilyn Chambers sounds like a porn star,” said Tony.

  I swear, us four women were struck speechless.

  But Bill laughed. “You’ve a real sense of humor, Tony.”

  I forced a smile, trying to recoup the situation at hand.

  “As far as I’m concerned, it’s subjective at this point.”

  Martha bypassed my dig at Tony, “Is she a nice lady?”

  “Is she a widow?” Betty asked in a solicitous tone.

  Hazel said, “Must be hard, a woman living all alone.”

  First Tony, now my hormone trio piling on the guy?

  Bill looked confused for a moment then said, “No.”

  “No, what?” Martha asked quickly.

  “No, she’s a young thing about Samantha’s age.”

  Martha batted her eyelashes. “I guess I just assumed...”

  Bill laughed. “I’m old enough to be Marilyn’s father.”

  Then I realized they were trying to get info from Bill.

  “Sounds young to afford a house back then,” said Betty.

  “Her father helped out with the down payment,” he said.

  I couldn’t ask for a description, he’d get suspicious.

  Bill eyed his watch. “Apologies, but I must get going.”

  Martha frowned. “And just when we were all getting reacquainted too,” she said, laying on the charm.

  It wasn’t lost on Bill as he sized her up and smiled.

  “I’ve got a previous engagement I must attend,” he said apologetically.

  “I truly understand,” said Martha, gently resting her hand on his.

  He finally tore his eyes from her and refocused on the rest of us.

  “Tony, Sam, Hazel, Betty, it’s been such a pleasure.”

  From out of nowhere, Martha produced a business card.

  “Keep in touch, Bill. After all, what are friends for?”

  At his loss for words, I said, “Thanks for the iced tea.”

  Goodbyes were said and we drove away, leaving a ve
ry confused and overwhelmed Bill, standing there, waving.

  Tony turned to us. “It’s only an hour away. Let’s head back home. I want to make some arrangements. We’ll hit the dock of Sam’s old lake rental tomorrow night after Sam has had her rehab session back in New Hope.”

  I didn’t think we needed any interpretation on that one. We all knew what he was talking about. We had to find out what might be buried beyond the stockade fencing and also find out who Marilyn Chambers was. Was this Marilyn, the same one who was now missing? Or was it someone else?

  Martha piped up from the backseat. “Let’s stop and eat. I’ve worked up an appetite for something local.”

  I didn’t know if she was referring to food or Bill.

  Chapter 24

  Getting The Lowdown

  The next morning found only three of us headed out to rehab. I had argued to the ladies, ‘What’s the point?’ But Hazel and Betty insisted since they felt it their duty to keep an eye on me to keep me safe and sound.

  “It’s not debatable,” stated Martha flatly. “Besides, it’s just Betty and Hazel who are going with you. I’m still doing research on this Marilyn Chambers.”

  “Betty and I might be able to find out more separately about Marilyn than just you alone,” suggested Hazel.

  “Find out about her background too,” added Betty.

  They were right. “ Okay, point noted,” I conceded.

  “Safety in numbers,” Betty said, as they headed out.

  “Speaking of numbers,” said Hazel. “Let’s buy a ticket.”

  “Lotto. Powerball. It doesn’t matter,” said Martha.

  Betty’s eyes widened in surprise. “Now, why do you say that?”

  Martha stood at the door. “Because the odds are stacked against us, that’s why.”

  “We could pick our ages this time,” suggested Hazel.

  Martha laughed. “The numbers don’t go that high.”

  Betty and Hazel first walked to different parts of the shopping area and then to rehab: a multi-pronged approach so as to not raise suspicion about their entrances. As I walked into rehab right after parking my car, I resigned myself to more disappointment in not seeing Marilyn. Where was she?

  Winning Lotto had better odds than cornering her.

  The two were assigned a table and bike by the time I entered the rehab center. Phil motioned me over to the last table left open. He then gave me exercise instructions and veered off to another patient. My table was next to Anne’s, who offered a smile. No Marilyn.

  “I see disappointment written all over your expression,” she said, as she kept up with her exercises.

  I didn’t realize it was that obvious. Then a thought struck. Being friendly with so many patients there, Anne might be of help with some info involving Marilyn. I had to try.

  I faked a frown. “A character is giving me problems.”

  She glanced around. “Well, I don’t see anyone paying attention to what’s going on in our corner. Why not bounce some ideas my way?” she said, encouragingly.

  “Can I ask you a question or two first?” I whispered.

  “Of course!”

  “Do you come in here more than me, twice a week?”

  “Why, yes, I do. I come in here like clockwork, three times a week.”

  “Have you noticed that young woman, Marilyn?”

  “Yes, I was assigned a table next to hers a few times.”

  I perked up. “Ever get a chance to talk to her?”

  “Oh, yes. As you know, I’m interested in everyone.”

  “Anything about her strike you as somewhat unusual?”

  “Now that you mention it, she inquired about you, but I figured she asked questions because you’re an author.”

  “Anything else that you can think of?”

  “Well, she was always looking out the window a little distracted, but...” Anne tilted her head slightly then smiled. “Wait a minute. I bet you’re drawing a profile of someone like her for your next mystery! Am I right?”

  “I’m not fooling you, am I, Anne? You’re a clever one.”

  “How exciting!” she said. “Now tell me all about this writing problem of yours,” she said, waiting for me to elaborate on why I was upset over one of my characters.

  Disappointed at not learning anything more, I figured that maybe she wasn’t such a good source after all.

  I smiled, now wholly focused on Anne. “Now, about my problem with one of my...”

  Chapter 25

  Giving The Lowdown

  Martha, Hazel, and Betty had no idea where Tony had gone off to that day. He touched base with us after rehab with a cryptic text that said, ‘Wear all black. Later.’

  Following dinner we stood there checking each other’s outfits out to make sure there was not too much flesh exposed getting ourselves ready to hit Medford Lakes after nightfall.

  “We are going covert!” said an excited Hazel.

  “I should brighten this outfit up with some bling,” said Martha, frowning. “This is much too drab for my taste. I look like I’m going to a funeral.”

  “Might be your own,” said Betty.

  I did a double-take when I glanced over to Hazel. “Why in the world are you wearing a black hooded mask?”

  “So there is no way I’ll be identified if we’re spotted on this covert mission,” she replied.

  “Covert spies don’t wear masks,” mocked Martha.

  Betty stifled a laugh when she spotted Hazel’s hands.

  “You are wearing gloves too?” she asked her.

  Hazel bit back a retort, trying to ignore Betty.

  Wise-guy Martha said, “Don’t tell me. I know why! No fingerprints, am I right?”

  “What are you afraid of, Hazel, someone fingerprinting the leaves we touch?” Betty added, now laughing out loud.

  “Don’t you think it’s better to be prepared,” Hazel asked in a huff, “than march in there without some kind of plan?”

  Martha and I joined in on Betty’s laughter.

  “Since when do we ever have a plan?” said Betty.

  “Most of our best laid plans fall flat,” chuckled Martha.

  Hazel ripped off her knit hood mask and gloves stiffly.

  “I swear, you three take all the fun out of everything. I’ll go along this time, but in the future I make my own calls.”

  “Trust me,” Martha replied then nodded in my direction. “With Tony along, we’re guaranteed major-league fun.”

  Hazel couldn’t resist glancing at me and smirking.

  “Okay,” I finally said, “I realize I’ve become a source of entertainment to you three, but don’t even waste your time thinking anything gossip-worthy will happen between Tony and me while Clay’s gone undercover.”

  “We know where your loyalties lay,” Betty encouraged.

  “And where they don’t,” laughed Martha wickedly.

  “And the fine line in between,” quipped Hazel.

  Martha sang, “No body knows the trouble she’ll see...”

  Chapter 26

  Embracing Our Destiny

  I couldn’t wait to send my agent this chapter that was already writing itself furiously inside my head: It was a moonlit night, given to shadows and sharply contrasted shapes looming before us as we took in our surroundings, staring out the windows of the car.

  Tony slowly eased to a stop and parked on the edge of the grassy property leading to an island bridge that crossed midway across the long lake. It would be our departing point to shove off for our target: my former lakeside rental and hopefully some answers for what we might find buried.

  Tony turned, leaning his right arm on his backrest and said, “Well, ladies, this is it. Time to embrace our destiny.”

  “My, how prophetic,” said Hazel from the backseat.

  “A forewarning if I ever heard one,” mused Betty.

  “Is there anything in the trunk we should be aware of, Tony?” Martha asked, chuckling.

  “Not this tim
e around,” he replied impassively.

  The backseat suddenly became as silent as a graveyard.

  “Tony, behave,” I chastised. “They’ll take that seriously.

  He gave a half-smile. “With their sharp wit and candor? They know I’m just kidding, right ladies?”

  Again, funereal silence from the back. No one said zip.

  I turned to gaze outside, as the evening breezes drifted through our half-opened windows. I felt goose bumps. Was it the temperature or fear of a disaster? An owl hooted nearby. I was still skeptical this plan would work, but had gone along when everyone, including Betty and Hazel agreed. They thought it best we seize the moment to search for what was buried beyond the stockade fencing on the forested end of that rental property.

  Tony stepped out of the car and quietly closed his door. We did the same, rounded the car and met him at the trunk.

  “Now what?” Betty asked, whispering to him.

  “I’m retrieving a shovel and sack,” he said.

  “How exciting,” said Hazel, rubbing her hands together.

  “Feels like a treasure hunt,” said Betty gleefully.

  Martha, who had just swiped black stripes beneath her eyes and now resembled a raccoon.

  “Aren’t you taking this too far with the black smudges?”

  “I’m going covert spy, both mentally and physically.”

  I wondered if Martha was serious or not then I turned to Tony. “Now, are we supposed to swim all the way back to that rental house to get to its dock or what?”

  Tony merely said, “This way, ladies. You too, Sam.”

  Ignoring the dig he jokingly gave me, I took the rear.

  No sooner had we stealthily approached the land bridge, than Betty said doubtfully, “You’re kidding me. Oh, no...”

  A long, narrow, black canoe resting on the bank.

  I shook my head. I was expecting a boat when Tony said he’d make arrangements. “We’re all fitting into that?”

  “Trust me and jump in,” ordered Tony. “It’s extra long.”

  I caught Hazel blessing herself.