“Shooshing? I do not shoosh!”
He imitated the sound her slippers made over the hardwood floors. Heat rose in her cheeks. All the time, she had thought she was being quiet, but she was wrong. Some detective she made.
“I was looking for the intruder.” Even to her own ears, she sounded like a senile old fool.
“What intruder?”
Margot felt less and less like telling him what she thought she heard. Then she remembered the apartment behind her. “The door is open. See?”
He frowned. “You didn’t leave it open?”
“I haven’t been in there yet.”
“Wait here,” he grumbled. “If I have to run, I don’t want to trip over you.”
“Such a nice young man,” she snapped.
He ignored her quip and walked into the apartment. Two minutes later, he was back and closed the door behind him. “Empty.”
“Are you sure?” Margot started for the door.
He shrugged and began walking down the hall. “Search for yourself. I’ll bet Nancy left it open. You probably already know how much she steals. Coley wasn’t dead in his grave before she was scoping out his stuff and taking things.”
“Don’t say that.” Margot followed him, but she found it hard to keep up with his long stride. She had to stumble along at a faster clip than she was used to. “Nancy’s a—”
“Klepto,” he interrupted. “I bet she’s got tons of Coley’s stuff at her place. Well, I’m turning in. Stop wandering around making me nervous. This isn’t some ritzy neighborhood or wherever you came from, and the neighbors aren’t as nice as you think they are. Stay inside until everybody’s awake. Good night.”
“How did you know I—” she began, but Jimmy jogged down the steps and disappeared along the second floor hall. She took her time descending the stairs and returned to her apartment.
Margot shut her door and locked it. She put the bat away and then searched the apartment. Odds was nowhere to be found.
“Well, he wasn’t mine anyway.” Unaccountably sad, she removed her slippers and climbed into bed. Sleep was a long time coming.
Chapter Seventeen
Margot woke impatient to get the day started, and she climbed hurriedly out of bed. Only after she had prepared food for Odds on a saucer—because he refused to eat in the cat dish she had purchased him—she recalled he hadn’t been home all night. Where could that silly cat be?
She walked down to Nancy’s apartment to check with her, but when her friend could provide no insight, Margot returned to her own place. Scouring the newspaper alone, she found an odd job she might be interested in. If Odds were there, he would tell her whether it was a good one or not.
“No, he’s just as ignorant of this as I am, and all he does it get me into trouble.”
Maybe she should interview for the job without him. Everything might turn out better. Margot noted the phone number and made the call. A few minutes later, she had an interview.
After a shower, she dressed and ate breakfast to keep her strength up. Then she left the apartment. All the while as she walked downstairs and out of the building to make the trek to the bus stop, she listened for Odds and kept looking over her shoulder for him. A couple hours later, Margot returned home tired but hopeful she would get a call soon.
Wearily she stepped into her apartment building, and there sat Odds in the middle of the hall watching her. “Where have you been, you naughty cat?” she demanded.
His tail swished, and he licked a paw.
“Not talking now?”
“Was I ever, or was it all in your head?”
She grumbled, “I have half a mind to disown you.”
Meow. Wide-eyed.
“Well? Are you going to tell me where you were?”
He stood and sauntered over to Nancy’s door. Margot frowned. “Did Nancy steal you too?”
At her words, Nancy’s door opened, and Nancy hurried into the hall. A wide grin spread over her face. “Margot, I thought I heard you. Who were you talking to?”
“The cat.” Margot saw no reason to hide it at the moment. She was very peeved.
“Oh you found him. Good.” She scooted over to Margot and grabbed her arm. “Guess what, dear. He’s here!”
“Who’s there?” Margot rounded her eyes, probably like the foolish cat.
“Mr. Mercer.” Nancy squealed in delight. “I finally convinced him to come to lunch. I told you I shouldn’t give up hope. I always get my man, even at my age.”
“But she never keeps him.”
Margot’s lips twitched. “That’s good, Nancy. I’m glad for you. If you’ll excuse me.”
“Oh, no, you have to come in and have a bite to eat.”
“But—”
“I insist.” She held up a finger. “Plus you have to tell me where you found Odds. I bet he’s been up to all kinds of adventures us older gals never get to enjoy.”
“I had lots of adventure this morning on the crowded bus, being jostled and pressed against by a man with an unwashed body. I was offered a seat two blocks before my stop…”
Nancy would hear none of her excuses and all but dragged Margot into her apartment. “Look, Mr. Mercer. I found Margot. Now the three of us can have a nice visit together. Here let me bring you a plate, Margot.”
Margot moved to a seat at the dining room table and dropped into it. “Good afternoon, Mercer. How are you today?”
She looked into the gentleman’s face and caught a tightening of his lips before they relaxed. Did he want to be alone with Nancy, and she was intruding? Then he smiled.
“I’m well. Thanks for asking, Margot. I thought I would come down and make amends with Nancy. After all, we do have a nice little community here, and I wouldn’t want to ruin it with a sour attitude.”
“You’re so right,” she said. Poor Nancy was jumping to conclusions again. “You’ll have to make it clear to her that you…uh…she…”
Mercer waited for her to finish her sentence, but faced with voicing Nancy’s hopes to the man in question, she hesitated. He might not have realized her intentions.
“Never mind,” she finished dismally.
A noise caught Margot’s attention, and she turned. Odds was on the mantel again toeing through the clutter. He batted at a picture frame, and Margot shrieked.
“Get down, Odds!”
She darted from her chair just as Nancy stepped from the kitchen holding a covered pot between two mitten-covered hands. Margot crashed into her, and Nancy and Margot both uttered a pained oof. The pot swung dangerously toward Mercer, and he leaped to his feet, reaching out to stop it.
“That was close,” Margot said in relief. “I’m sor—”
A crash, and Margot recalled the darn cat. The picture lay on the floor, the glass shattered. Odds stood poised with his paw on another piece, ready to tip it over. He stared at Margot. She looked at him.
“Don’t you dare! You’ve done enough damage.”
Over went the small trophy, and Margot gave a cry as she ran to the mantel. When she drew up to it, she snatched the cat down and dropped him on his feet on the floor. Then she bent down to the picture and turned it over. Well at least the photo wasn’t damaged. She wondered miserably how much a frame would cost.
Odds sat beside her, unrepentant. Margot noticed the little trophy. At least it looked cheap, but the base had almost come off of it, and the gluing had been a shoddy job. She flipped the thing upside down and tried to wiggle it back into place. A name had been carved into the wooden base. Strange, she thought. Weren’t winners’ names usually engraved to a plate in gold and placed on the front?
Robert William Mercer Cunningham, she read and froze.
“You’ve figured it out, haven’t you, Margot?” Mercer said.
She swallowed and pulled herself to her feet while still clutching the trophy. When she turned around, she found Mercer, glasses removed, holding onto Nancy’s arm with one hand and a gun in the other.
“You kille
d Coley,” she said.
“Bingo.” He grinned.
Nancy clutched her hands together, tears in her eyes. “You’re not blind at all, are you, Mr. Mercer?”
“No, I’m not.” He glared at her. “And because of your thieving ways, I had to spend three months in this hole pretending to be.”
Nancy’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
Margot held up the trophy. “I think he means this, Nancy.” Her voice shook only a little, she was glad to note. “His real name is Robert William Mercer Cunningham.”
“Cunningham,” Nancy repeated. “Isn’t that the owner’s name?”
“Exactly.” Margot puzzled over the whys.
Mercer waved the gun at Margot, and she had a sudden urge to use the facilities. “If you’ll hand that trophy to me, everything will be fine.”
She turned the trophy this way and that in her hand. “I don’t understand what’s so important about this trophy. It looks cheap. Even the base looks like it’s been re-glued, and badly at that.”
As she spoke the piece broke completely off, and for the first time she was able to see into it. A small item had been hidden inside. When she looked up, Mercer was straining to see while he remained where he stood.
Margot pinched the item out of the trophy base and held it up. “Is this what you were looking for?”
“Finally! Give it to me quickly. I don’t want to have to kill you.”
Nancy moaned. She sagged against Mercer, and he struggled with her weight. Margot’s hands began to shake. The trophy and the item slipped from her fingers to the carpet. She dropped to her knees to get them and found that Odds had disappeared again. Looking around, she spotted him under the table. His ears were flat against his head, his back hunched, and his tail had fluffed out twice its normal size.
“Don’t hurt Nancy,” Margot said.
“Oh, Margot,” Nancy sniffed. “Thank you for thinking of me first.”
Mercer’s jaw twitched. “I won’t hurt her if you give me the flash drive.”
Margot straightened, calling up courage from her toes. “I wasn’t talking about you hurting Nancy.”
“Then what—”
A silver ball flashed through the air and landed on Mercer’s wrist. Claws dug in, and Mercer howled. The gun swung wide. Margot dove for the floor with every muscle and joint crying out. Nancy screamed, and something thumped. The door burst open, and Margot heard the welcome command of “freeze” from Peter, and she sagged in relief.
Chapter Eighteen
“Margot?” Peter squatted beside her.
She moaned.
“Are you okay? We got him. There’s no evidence that the gun went off, but are you hurt in some other way? Should I call an ambulance?”
“I think this is it, Peter,” she whimpered. “If I broke my hip this time, I might not come back from it.”
He chuckled. “Somehow your voice sounds too strong to be on the verge of death. Besides that, you’re too young.”
“I’m sixty-six, young man.”
“Too young,” he insisted, and she melted.
“All right, if you help me.”
He did, and soon she found herself ensconced on one of the overstuffed chairs. Sure, she hadn’t broken anything, but she still hurt. Diving onto the floor wasn’t something she wanted to do ever again. Detective work could be left to the professionals like Peter, but her curiosity did get the better of her to know the details.
An officer led Mercer out of the apartment in handcuffs. Margot caught Peter before he could follow. “How did you know to come, and why did he do it?”
“I was coming to question him again,” Peter said. “Last night I had an odd dream. Well, anyway my hunch led me to look further into the dealings concerning the owner. I no longer bought the absentee thing.”
Margot nodded, understanding so far.
“Turns out Coley visited him a few months ago, asking for a loan. He said his daughter needed an operation.”
Nancy interrupted. She sat in the chair opposite to Margot’s and still looked a bit pale, but she seemed to be following the conversation okay. “Daughter? I’ve never seen a daughter. As far as I know, Coley didn’t have family.”
Peter shrugged. “Anyway, Mercer said no, even humiliated the guy according to the assistant.”
“But wouldn’t Coley have recognized Mercer?” Margot asked.
“No, he never saw Mercer face-to-face. He met with the assistant. Mercer was always a recluse, shutting himself away to work in his office or at home, seeing no one. Conference calls were what he did most of the time and relied heavily on his assistant to be the face man.”
“Sounds sneaky,” Margot quipped.
“But not unheard of among the rich,” Peter told her.
“Lou would never stoop to—” Margot cut herself off and clamped her teeth together.
Peter continued. “Coley apparently grabbed the statue in a snit, and when the assistant turned his head, the flash drive as well. He didn’t know what he had until Mercer himself called wanting it back. That’s when Coley decided to blackmail him.”
Odds jumped on Margot’s lap and curled up. She gave him a rub for a job well done. “What did he have?”
“Plans for hostile takeovers. If word got out, Mercer stood to lose millions. He couldn’t let that happen. At first he gave into Coley’s demands and let him be the lazy bum he was.
“He gave him a lot of freedom to do whatever he wanted, as long as he kept his mouth shut. Coley got greedy, and Mercer decided to take matters into his own hands this time.”
“He came to kill him,” Margot guessed.
“Yes, but first he needed to find the drive. That proved to be not so easy.”
Margot glanced over at Nancy, who had the grace to blush, but then tears filled her eyes. “It’s my fault he’s dead.”
“No, it’s not, Nancy,” Margot insisted. She set Odds down on the floor and ignored her aches and pains to walk over and hug Nancy. “It’s Mercer’s. He was a bad man, and it’s likely he would have killed Coley anyway because he knew too much.”
“Agreed,” Peter said. “I have to question Mercer at the station, but my guess is Coley eventually figured out who Mercer was and was going to blow the whistle. That is what got him killed, not you.”
Nancy dug rumpled tissue from her pocket and wiped her nose. “Thank you, Detective Peter. You saved our lives. I don’t know how to make it up to you.”
He frowned at Margot, and she shrugged smiling. Peter strolled to the door. “I will need both of you to come to the station to make an official statement. Stay out of trouble, ladies.”
“No more death and danger for me,” Margot promised.
He nodded and disappeared out the door.
* * * *
Margot awakened a few days after Mercer had been taken away to more noises in the hall. She glanced at the clock. Well, at least this time it happened at a decent time. Whoever disturbed her sleep had cheated her by ten minutes, so she didn’t mind so much. The noise they were making was a different matter altogether.
She rose from bed and straightened her pajamas, then threw on a robe and slid her feet into slippers. Odds met her at the door and darted into the hall just as an enormous couch barreled past.
Margot shrieked. “Odds!”
The two men carrying the couch started at her shout and dropped the couch hard onto the floor. Margot leaned against the archway, sick with a pounding heart. Then Odds himself jumped up onto the couch, sat down, and began licking himself.
“You scared me,” she scolded him and waited for him to speak.
He went on with his grooming.
“Lady, you want to get your cat?” one of the men said.
She scowled at Odds. “He’s not mine. Take him with you if you like.”
Nancy’s door opened, and she waved at Margot across the blocked path. “Isn’t it exciting, Margot?”
“Isn’t what exciting?”
“We�
��re getting a new Super, and I hear he’s not going to take the big apartment. Let the games begin!”
Margot didn’t want to ask, but she couldn’t resist Nancy’s hopeful, wide expression as she waited for Margot to respond. “What games?”
“The competition,” Nancy chirped. “I’ve decided we should all have a contest to see who gets the apartment. Then we can tell the Super when he arrives who has won, and that’s it. Sounds simple, right?”
“Oh, yes, it sounds simple, dear,” Margot agreed. Her cheer was false because she hadn’t had coffee yet. “You forgot one important factor.”
“What’s that?”
Margot straightened. “Since this new Super probably isn’t blackmailing the owner, he will have to play by the rules. From what you and the others have told me, the rules say that apartment upstairs is much more expensive than our apartments. So, it’s only whoever can afford it who gets it not anyone who’s lucky enough to win a contest.”
Nancy huffed. “Margot Gardner, I was going to bring you coffee this morning, but now I’ve changed my mind. Have a nice day.”
Nancy slammed the door, and Margot groaned, thinking of the woman’s delicious brew. She had only instant, which was a terrible alternative. As Margot turned to go back into her apartment, she thought she heard a snicker inside her head that wasn’t her own. Well, she guessed the craziness hadn’t ended just yet.
The End
Coming soon: More Margot and Odds. Keep up with what’s happening in this and my other worlds by signing up for my newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/36Par.
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- Audrey Claire
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