The Lush Life (Samantha Jamison Mystery Book 8)

by Peggy A. Edelheit

  I took it off. “Well, as you can now see, it’s really me.”

  She was still gushing over what an honor it was to meet me that I began to warm up to her. Maybe she wasn’t so obnoxious as I’d initially thought. She acted like a fan.

  Should I give her an autographed copy of my last book?

  While she babbled, my eyes caught sight of some luggage. Uh-oh. Okay, apparently she was expecting to stay with us. My goodwill abruptly took a nosedive.

  Fan or no fan, why was she here at my doorstep?

  “I see you’ve got luggage.”

  She looked back to it. “Why, of course!”

  Back in my court.

  “...It’s that I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

  She drew in a breath, surprised. “Clay didn’t tell you? He invited me by email. Here, take a look for yourself.”

  I read it. The sender’s email was partially torn off.

  Could it be the same bogus sender as our other two!

  Now intrigued, I said, “Please come in, Miss...?”

  “Oh, I am soooo sorry. It’s Scarlett O’Hara.”

  She gave me a card. President of one of my fan clubs?

  “Your name is Scarlett O’Hara?” I asked, stunned.

  “My mother just loved the book, Gone With The Wind.”

  Great! Now I was dealing with real live fictional people.

  Chapter 14

  Southern Comfort

  “Scarlett?” Martha asked, trying to grasp what I’d said.

  “You heard me. What am I to do with her? She’s down in the great room, gulping Southern Comfort of all things.”

  Martha sniffed. “Were you hitting the stuff too?”

  “I was tempted. It was twenty minutes of her talking nonstop about all my books and how this was going to be a great interview for me. She couldn’t wait for the fans to hear all about me. But then she weirdly segued into ranting about how great the South was and Gone With The Wind.”

  “Nerves. Could’ve been the Southern Comfort talking.”

  “She took it straight up. I couldn’t wait to run this by you. We need to find out who is sending bogus emails and how Scarlett figures into what is going on here.”

  “But what if Clay really did send that torn email to her?”

  “It’s possible. He pulled some crazy stunts when I first met him, remember? If Clay did this for my benefit, he could’ve at least warned me beforehand,” I said angrily.

  “Don’t be so hard on him. I’m sure he had your best interests in mind, thinking of all the free publicity for you.”

  “It would be just like him pull this, wouldn’t it?”

  Martha laughed. “You know he loves to surprise you.”

  “Well, he’s killing me with this one if he’s responsible.”

  “First things first,” said Martha. “Have you emailed Clay about this and given any thought as to where you’re going to put her up?”

  I turned away from her briefly. “Yes and yes.”

  “And?

  I turned back. “Don’t tempt me to answer truthfully.”

  “No, I’m serious.”

  I threw myself into the nearest chair. “...With you?”

  “...Say what?”

  “Martha, I have no other choice.”

  “Oh, yes you do! I could bunk with you instead.”

  “And what if Clay returns?”

  “I wouldn’t mind a toss in the hay with that hunk.”

  After seeing my reaction, Martha broke up laughing.

  “Honest, Martha. If I had an alternative, I’d take it.”

  “What is she doing here in the first place?”

  “She was invited here for a week.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “Apparently, Scarlett is the president of a nationwide fan club of mine and won.”

  “Won what?”

  “A whole week to observe me then interview me.”

  Martha sat down. “How can you turn down the chance for more book sales? Either way you’re screwed.”

  “No, you are,” I retorted. “You get to bunk with her. I just have to last through one interview with her.”

  We both sat their thinking over these turn of events.

  Martha grinned. “Well, I guess it won’t kill me. I could use earplugs at night and claim I’m deaf during the day.”

  “I don’t know whether to kiss Clay for the free publicity stunt or strangle our bogus sender for evil intentions.”

  “Some plan is in place if our bogus sender is involved.”

  “If so, that’s a problem. What should we expect next?”

  “Don’t you always preach, expect the unexpected?”

  “I know, but still...”

  “Since when is one of your mysteries easy to solve?”

  She had me there.

  “We should be patient and let this game play out then.”

  “And not get outmaneuvered,” Martha added.

  “And hope we can checkmate first before it’s too late.”

  “With Scarlett thrown into what’s already in place.”

  “Every move we take from now on must be deliberate.”

  “You’ve had some bizarre gifts mailed to you by fans over the years, but this finger takes the cake,” said Martha.

  “Doesn’t look like this one’s a fan, does it?”

  Chapter 15

  Loquacious Lucas To A Point

  Okay, I admit I was trying to avoid talking to Lucas and Scarlet until I heard from Clay, but time was passing. I left Clay voicemails and text messages, but heard nothing in return. He had some explaining to do when he got back.

  I have to admit I’ve gone through this old exercise many times before. When Clay worked undercover, it was like he dropped off the face of the earth. I could go multiple days and not hear a word. Then out of nowhere, he’d call or text or just show up unannounced. I learned that going into this relationship and had semi-adjusted since then.

  I use that term semi-adjusted lightly.

  He adjusted just fine. I had adjusted up to a point. I was either consumed with angst about his safety or worried he’d found someone new. Maybe there were a few times when our roles reversed and he felt unsure. I guess that’s what made our relationship work: keeping each other guessing.

  With that in mind, I decided to push my Clay concerns to the side by focusing on our third addition: Lucas.

  I caught him working in the gardens. I didn’t want distractions so it was perfect timing. He glanced up at my approach, giving me a warm smile. From what little contact everyone had with him so far, it was hard not to be affected by his easy-going, friendly manner. We liked him.

  Forgive this pun. I was about to dig deeper and hoped he’d be just as easygoing during our little chit-chat.

  I was curious about why he wasn’t around until now.

  I sat on a nearby bench, deciding to take my time in mentioning anything specific. I figured I’d take the lead on our conversation, but Lucas beat me to it.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, glancing up at the sky.

  “As are the gardens too,” I said, admiring them.

  “Thanks. I have a lot of catching up to do around here.”

  Odd the Worths’ never mentioned him before.

  “You caught me off-guard when you showed up,” I said.

  “Alicia outsourced my job because I had to leave.”

  Interesting.

  “Everything must have worked out for you because now you’re back.”

  “I heard my replacements weren’t any good.”

  “I guess Alicia asked you to come back then?”

  Lucas hesitated, his features pinched. “...Not exactly.”

  He stared up again, most likely gathering his thoughts on phrasing his next words. “The truth is I called Alicia.”

  “You called her?” I repeated, hoping he’d continue.

  “We had a falling out before and I left.”

  “Oh?” I was d
ying to know the details, but waited.

  “She had misread things and I threatened to leave.”

  I guessed. “Did she surprise you by letting you go?”

  He nodded. “After being with them ten long years, I was shocked. Alicia and Chris felt like family to me.”

  Why had they let him go? What really happened?

  Lucas suddenly grinned and stared off again.

  What was he thinking?

  I gently probed. “And no hard feelings on either side?”

  “That’s now a dead issue.”

  “...Oh.”

  “All that matters is that I’m back and that’s history.”

  I was about to speak, but then he unexpectedly reached behind a shrub and whipped out a fresh bouquet of flowers, smiled self-consciously and handed it to me.

  “Here, I picked this for you earlier, Samantha.”

  I was touched, but at the same time edgy. I hardly knew him and already he was giving me a bouquet.

  “...Well, uh, that’s so sweet and thoughtful.”

  “I figured we had something in common.”

  Still slightly uneasy, but confused, I asked, “How so?”

  “I dig up the gardens and you dig up the truth.”

  I relaxed somewhat and laughed. “I guess you’re right.”

  “Let’s hope you are just as sharp for this one.”

  ...This one?

  I didn’t get it. “Excuse me?”

  He laughed. “I meant your next one.”

  I sat there staring at him. Then... “Oh, you mean my next mystery.”

  “Well, I have a lot of gardening to catch up on. Maybe we can talk again another time, okay?”

  I was thus dismissed from asking further questions.

  “...Sure. Another time,” I said, getting up and walking away. Something made me turn back. Lucas was frowning, looking off again. That familiar smile long gone.

  Like the old cliché:

  There was more here than met the eye...

  Chapter 16

  Cutting To The Chase

  I figured I’d prepare a chunky vegetable soup while I gave Lucas’s conversation some thought. I loved going over the facts on a mystery while cooking. And this sure was a inexplicable one. Earlier, too fidgety to sit around, Martha, Hazel, and Betty left for the grocery store to pick up some food supplies we needed for all these people.

  I set out the cutting board in the kitchen and was about to begin slicing when I felt someone’s presence. I turned to see who it was. Scarlett was staring at me blankly.

  She came out of her trance-like state when I said, “Hi.”

  What was that all about?

  “Could I help you in some way?” she volunteered.

  I recalled how excited Scarlett was earlier and relented. I had to make the best of her being around. Being in a more relaxed setting might ease some trepidation about the interview. Most authors loved them, but I was concerned my words might be misinterpreted to my disadvantage.

  Trust me, I tend toward paranoia.

  I grabbed another board and handed her a chef’s knife.

  “Make yourself useful. Aprons, there,” I said, pointing.

  She grabbed one, put it on, and picked up the knife.

  I turned back to the carrots I was skinning and slicing.

  “Is this your first interview?” I asked, prodding her on.

  “Yes. I mean no, but with you, yes, obviously.”

  Where had Miss Chatterbox gone?

  I heard her knife being placed down on the board.

  Was I about to hear a confession about something?

  I turned back to her. She glanced from her board to me.

  “Oh! I forgot to give you the celery and onions to chop.”

  She gave me a nervous smile. “I can’t believe I’m here.”

  I smiled, handing them over. “Believe it. Get to work.”

  She laughed and began to slice. “This reminds me of back home when I’d get together with my momma and brother, Rhett, in the kitchen.”

  I stopped cutting, turned and stared at her for a sec.

  “...Rhett? ...Oh, of course! That book.”

  A door slammed and my senior trio carried in three bags of groceries along with some bad vibes.

  Something was off with them.

  “What?” I asked, casting them a worried glance.

  “Guess who Hazel saw in the organic aisle?” said Betty.

  “I have no idea,” I said, my eyes darting to Hazel.

  “Someone who shouldn’t be there, but was,” she said.

  They all loved drama.

  “Get to the point,” I insisted.

  Eyeing Scarlett, Martha hesitated. “Well, we...”

  How bad could it be? They were at the grocery store!

  Besides, I knew I could always excuse us at any point so we could speak privately. “Go ahead. Spill.”

  Martha’s eyes swung back to me. “Your friend, Tony.”

  Damn...

  Chapter 17

  Defining Tony G

  To define Tony G. was a tough one. I doubted my off or online dictionary could translate or explain that guy. Let’s just say he played a major negative role in my last mystery, No Hope In New Hope, regarding the deadly consequences of art forgery. Deadly should tell you something right there.

  Tony was a connected kind of guy, sort of like Clay and Mona, but in a bad kind of way. He took a hit in the art market and didn’t take too kindly to it and neither did his mother, who hovered on the periphery.

  Since neither one of them were seen around recently, we figured they had moved on to greener pastures so to speak. I guess we were mistaken. Now I had a problem with that. Although good looking, Tony was one scary, dangerous guy. He had an infinity for waving his gun around. So you can grasp my apprehension on hearing of his whereabouts: right here in town.

  Now what would Mr. Connected be doing back in town?

  I pinched my nose with closed eyes. “...Not now.”

  “...Yes, now,” Martha replied sharply.

  Scarlett was leaning in excitedly. “Who’s Tony?”

  I thought about our situation. Scarlett didn’t appear to be going anywhere. So we were stuck with her for the time being. There would be hell to pay with Clay, but that was neither hear nor there at the moment. Scarlett was going to be exposed to how we dealt with stress and the unexpected, which was badly. Sooner or later she’d hear about why we were upset at seeing Tony in town. We couldn’t hide it. She might end up being inadvertently dragged into it and had to be warned about him and his so-called connections.

  I sometimes think I rationalize too much...

  “You might as well fill her in,” I said to my crew.

  And so they did, letting her know Tony was not to be trusted under any circumstances, and he had very unsavory connections, ones Scarlett had probably read about, but not dealt with before. They explained that although he couldn’t be trusted, he had never laid a hand on any of us, just waved his gun around and shot some holes in an art gallery. In other words, she should keep her distance from him.

  “Well! I have dealt with some rough gentleman of my own. I know exactly what you mean about uncontrollable and volatile. Besides, I have a black belt in Taekwondo.”

  We all stared at Scarlett. Taekwondo?

  “Really?” I said, impressed by Miss Southern Belle.

  “Although somewhat sheltered growing up, my momma made sure I wouldn’t be taken advantage of,” she drawled.

  Was she for real?

  Martha gave me the eye, asking the same thing.

  Could we trust her?

  I gave a slight shrug.

  I don’t know.

  “Time will tell,” mumbled Martha. “Time will tell.”

  Chapter 18

  Time Will Tell...

  “Are you sure it was Tony at the supermarket?” I asked.

  “I spotted him by the organic half-n-half,” Hazel said.

  �
�What exactly was he doing there? Think back,” I said.

  Hazel closed her eyes. “He was checking his watch.”

  “Anything else? Anything unusual?”

  “Well, he was talking at the same time.”

  “Who was he talking to? Did you recognize them?”

  “I know it sounds crazy, but he was talking to himself.”

  “What do you mean himself?” I asked.

  “No one else was standing there, but him.”

  “He was probably talking on an earphone,” said Betty.

  Martha grabbed Hazel. “Did you catch what he said?”

  Hazel shut her eyes again, remembering. “‘That it was worth the price.’ I figured he was talking about the half-n-half until he turned and I saw that it was Tony! I almost knocked down a display of cans hightailing it out of there to hide behind some plants in the flower section.”

  “Did he see you?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Martha eyed Hazel. “Are you positive it was him?”

  Hazel stiffened. “Are you questioning my integrity?”

  “No, just your eyesight.”

  I looked at Martha and Betty. “Did you two see him?”

  They shook their heads no.

  “What do you think he was talking about?” asked Hazel.

  “It wasn’t about the price of half-n-half,” said Martha.

  Betty caught my eye. “Maybe about another painting?”

  We had all but forgotten about Scarlett standing there until she said, “Does he know all of you are still in town?”

  “Do you think that’s possible, Sam?” asked Betty.

  “More than likely. That guy has eyes in the back of his head, plus he’s connected, remember?”

  “Isn’t he taking a chance showing up here? Don’t the authorities already have him in their crosshairs? Why risk jail time causing more trouble?” Scarlett asked.

  No one said anything at first. They were valid points.

  “That, Scarlett, is for us to figure out first,” I said.

  She grinned. “This sounds like one of your mysteries.”

  I thought of our interview and her possible questions.

  “Some mysteries are multilayered and not so simple.”