The Lush Life (Samantha Jamison Mystery Book 8)

by Peggy A. Edelheit

  He walked over to the oversized wing chair facing me and the fireplace, his back now to the great room doors.

  What’s he doing, sitting down?

  “We didn’t find it. What makes you think we did?”

  “Because Scarlett’s packing, everyone else is gone, including Mona.”

  Lucas smiled when I winced in pain.

  Bastard.

  “I swear,” I said, “we never found it. That’s the truth.”

  “I’m in no rush. There are ways to get you talking.”

  Voices arguing, echoed down the hall. We both turned.

  “My leverage approaches,” laughed Lucas.

  The ladies were back with takeout.

  “Lucas, you wouldn’t do anything rash, would you?”

  “Make like you’re looking at the curio items in the coffee table.”

  He was hidden from view in that oversized wing chair.

  “Promise me no shooting!” I pleaded.

  “We’ll see. I make no promises.”

  Martha then Betty and Hazel stopped cold after entering.

  “Why’s your wheelchair over there?” asked Martha.

  Before I could warn them they rushed to my side.

  “Why are you on the floor?” asked Betty, reaching out.

  “You look a little pale,” said Hazel leaning over me.

  “I...”

  Chapter 49

  Company & More

  Lucas cleared his throat. Startled, the trio turned.

  “I see you have company,” said Martha, smoothly.

  Hazel stared at his hand. “Ah, a thirty-eight special.”

  “I thought your specialty was gardening,” said Betty.

  “Not anymore,” said Lucas. “This is more lucrative.”

  “And that’s because...?” asked Martha, acting confused.

  Lucas waved his gun. “I want the book. Now, ladies.”

  Martha tried to stall. “What book?”

  He reddened. “Don’t take me for a simpleton!”

  Martha turned back to me and winked, still stalling.

  “I told you it’s the quiet ones you should watch.”

  I wasn’t sure what she was up to, but played along.

  “And all this time we thought it was Tony’s mother.”

  Lucas looked confused. “What about his mother?”

  “She escaped,” said Betty.

  He hesitated before asking, “...From where?”

  “A sanatorium,” added Hazel, grinning.

  “So what does she have to do with the book?” he asked.

  “You didn’t hear that part? ...She’s after it too,” I said.

  “Then all you have to do is give it to me first,” he said.

  “That’s easy for you to say, because we don’t have...”

  Racing footsteps... Clay and Tony burst into the room.

  “We found her!” shouted Tony, running over to us.

  Seeing me on the floor, Clay moved in. “What hap...”

  “All right gentlemen. Hands up,” interrupted Lucas.

  Upset, Martha said, “Didn’t you see him sitting there?”

  Clay turned to face Lucas, his hands raised. “No...”

  “Now, what have we here?” asked an annoyed Tony.

  Lucas pulled the hammer back. “Your guns please.”

  “Okay,” said Clay easing over to block me from view.

  This couldn’t get much worse. I briefly closed my eyes, leaning my elbows on the glass curio coffee table with my hands on my forehead. When I opened them, everyone had closed ranks to protect the invalid, me. I stared down at the encased items to think of a way out.

  Something. Anything.

  I’d always admired Alicia’s prized bookmark collection from Italy, France, Spain, etc., personal keepsakes, costume jewelry, old pearls, pill case, two pipes, a worn and chipped beach silver dollar crafted into an ornament, old glass magnifiers with ornate handles, letter openers, a pocket watch, wire-rim glasses, hand-painted stationary, a child’s small bracelet, a cracked child’s book, antique rings...

  My eyes stopped on an embroidered cloth bookmark.

  I gasped then looked up to see if anyone heard me. They were still arguing, stalling for time. I stared back down.

  Could it be?

  There was no way...

  Chapter 50

  Way & More

  Disbelieving, I asked myself that same question again.

  Could it be?

  I had reread Alicia’s bizarre text she’d sent me so much that it was now committed to memory word for word:

  When you reed the manuscript,

  Make sure you have the right one, the other is lethal.

  I trust you’ll get it write and no the difference in thyme.

  I had racked my brain, but nothing had registered until now. I was staring down at one of the clues right in front of me: a cloth bookmark with embroidered stems and leaves of the herb thyme. On each side of it, partially obscured by bookmarks and two carved pipes were two very old books: one a book of poems by Bu... the other, Shakes...

  I glanced up. Now hidden, I was forgotten by Lucas.

  Should I try it?

  I gently tugged at the knobs to the curio drawer. It gave.

  I pulled harder, inching away my body then snuck my hand in, sliding the bookmarks and pipes aside. I strained to reach the first book: Burns. I lifted its cover to check the publication date through the glass top. I couldn’t. It was hollow. Inside was a gun. What the...?

  I reached for the other: Shakespeare! I lifted its cover, still staring through the glass of the coffee table. First folio 1623, a collection of William Shakespeare’s 36 plays.

  My breath caught as I stared at the rare book. Martha had read to us it sold for $6.1 million dollars in 2001. Was this it? Were two of them out there? No one considered the cluttered contents of this table. It was hidden in plain sight.

  Now, this book was something to kill over!

  I felt like I had been sitting on the floor for hours when in reality mere minutes ticked by while the others distracted Lucas, who was undoubtedly reveling in the fact he was now the center of attention. I caught the tail end of his last exchange.

  “...While Alicia and Chris Worth gallivanted all over the world collecting this or that, I spent ten years breaking my back maintaining this place. So I threatened to leave if they didn’t give me a big raise. I deserved it.”

  “Did you ever steal one of their books?” Hazel asked.

  “I was tempted, but thought it wasn’t worth it.”

  “What happened next?” asked Martha.

  “When they refused to cough up a raise, I had no choice but to leave. They had called my bluff. Later on I thought it over. I always thought books weren’t all that valuable, but then recalled a previous conversation I’d overheard and dismissed. They’d mentioned a super-valuable one they had bought. I could get rich and get back at them by stealing it. Unfortunately they never mentioned the title, just its value. So I called them up a few weeks later. All I had to do was get back inside to find it. Of course, they took me back because...”

  “No one knew their property like you did,” said Clay.

  “Everyone thinks I’m not listening and am stupid. Other than gardening and automotive, I’m computer literate too.”

  “As in hacking and wire-tapping?” said a familiar voice.

  Mona! She must have snuck up behind him!

  “Drop it, Lucas,” she ordered.

  Lucas’s gun dropped to the floor with a thud.

  An unexpected voice said, “I knew there’d be trouble.”

  Hidden on the floor by a sea of legs that kept shifting as each one spoke, I caught glimpses of what was going on. I moved to see Scarlett had entered holding her own gun.

  Scarlett was Lucas’s partner?

  “I think you better drop that gun, Mona,” said Lucas.

  Although Mona dropped her gun, she spoke forcefully.

&nb
sp; “By the way, I caught up with Teddy. He was conned like us. Said he lied about Tony’s mother being his aunt who hired him. He made up her nickname. He also took advantage of Sam, assuming he was related to Tony and his mother. Teddy overheard us constantly referring to her as a nut and how everyone was looking for her and took it from there. We all fell for it.”

  Mona then focused on Scarlett. “When Teddy saw you leave Lucas’s apartment he smelled trouble and got antsy. Then when Teddy caught you again the night you claimed you had a headache, he decided he had to leave. He’d seen enough. It could get dangerous.”

  Lucas kicked Mona’s gun away. “That was stupid of you getting spotted, Scarlett.”

  Scarlett swung her gun to Lucas. “Who’s stupid now?”

  Something was wrong.

  If they teamed in a scam to steal that valuable book, and the two of them manipulated us all, then why was her gun now trained directly on Lucas?

  Chapter 51

  Oh, Brother!

  “Is that how you talk to me, Lucas, your own brother?”

  Lucas was her brother?

  Oh, don’t give me that Lucas crap, Rhett,” said Scarlett.

  Her brother, who was Lucas, was really Rhett?

  “Now hold on a minute,” protested Martha. “Did your momma really saddle you two with those names for real?”

  “Do I look like I’m kidding?” asked Scarlett angrily.

  “No, ma’am. I’ve learned to never challenge anyone holding a gun,” Martha replied, smiling and stepping a little further away.

  “Good advice. You’ll live longer,” muttered Betty.

  “Although with her mouth, I’m surprised Martha’s lived this long to quote anything,” quipped Hazel to Betty.

  “Enough!” said Scarlett. “My beef is with Rhett.”

  Everyone faced Lucas/Rhett.

  I snatched a glance at Tony, whose fingers were flexing. He was itching for a gun! Concerned for the safety of my crew and yes, even wily Tony who might get killed, I had to do something. I opened the Burn’s book and grabbed the gun. It was a snub-nose Smith and Wesson thirty-eight caliber, alloy pistol, just light enough for me to maneuver.

  I was now aiming for some poetic justice here.

  I had to be prepared for anything. I quickly checked the cylinder for bullets: loaded. They were hollow-point to give the impact of a Western Union telegram. After slipping the gun under my leg, I eased the drawer closed. Now all I needed was the opportunity to stop all this madness. But before I could take any kind of action, Lucas stood and calmly reached down for his gun while Scarlett watched transfixed. Her hands began to shake nonstop.

  Someone was going to get shot.

  “You can’t do this to them, Rhett,” she cried.

  “We went all over this. There’s no turning back now.”

  “But I really like them all. They’ve done us no harm.”

  What was he planning to do with us?

  “This is a done deal.”

  “I told you last night that I can’t go through with this,” Scarlett replied breathlessly, still gripping her gun.

  “Don’t make me shoot you, Scarlett.”

  She blanched. “You wouldn’t, would you?”

  “You always were the weak one,” accused Rhett.

  Then Scarlett surprised everyone by rushing her brother head on. There was a collective gasp as a shot rang out. Scarlett screamed then collapsed to the floor.

  Lucas’s diverted attention was just what I needed.

  It was now or never. I yelled, “Everybody duck! Now!”

  And they did, just like I knew they would, leaving a bemused Lucas standing there like a lone fir in a desert. He began to swing the gun in my direction. I held steady and fired at him. He stood there befuddled then shocked as his gun dropped to the floor and blood began spreading across his right shoulder. Clay and Tony instantly dove, knocking Lucas to the floor.

  Scarlett began moaning then grabbed her bloody arm.

  I sighed in relief. She was only wounded.

  Betty and Hazel, on all fours, gave a me a thumbs up.

  Mona winked. “Nice shot.”

  Martha quipped, “With a handicap too!”

  I smiled, saying, “I needed to change the ending on this mystery before everything went south.”

  But before anyone could speak further, a familiar figure, holding a gun, ran through the French doors. “Hands up, everybody!”

  Tony turned from a now moaning Lucas beneath Clay and himself. “Mom? I thought we had you handcuffed to the car door!”

  She cackled. “Piece of cake! Am I too late?”

  You could have heard a pin drop as we stared at Tony’s armed and dangerously crazy mother waving her own gun.

  Oh, this was priceless. Would I have to shoot her too?

  “We’ve got the culprit,” said Tony calmly. “It was the gardener.”

  She eyed Lucas struggling on the floor. “To think I got bent out of shape over some oil paintings. He did this over one stupid book?” she asked, lowering her gun to her side.

  “One worth over $6 million dollars,” I said, now resting easy, once I realized Tony’s mother was on our side and maybe not as crazed for revenge as I previously thought.

  Everyone turned to me open-mouthed.

  “What did you just say?” asked Clay, holding onto the wounded but now struggling Lucas on the floor.

  “You heard me,” I said. Then I turned to Betty and Hazel. “Call 911 for an ambulance for Lucas and Scarlett.”

  Clay turned to Lucas who was moaning. “You’ll live.”

  “Yeah, but you’ll never throw a baseball again,” added Martha with a satisfied smile.

  Mona brought over my wheelchair and carefully helped me into it. “How did you get hold of that gun?” she asked.

  “How’d you know that book’s value?” asked Martha.

  “You never fail to astonish me,” said Betty grinning.

  “I second that one,” added Hazel beaming proudly.

  I pointed to the Shakespeare book. “Martha, remember reading all the high auction prices to us? It was right under our noses the whole time. Speaking of the word thyme...”

  After finishing my summation of how I finally solved it, including discovering the hollowed out phony, lethal book, Tony walked over to me.

  “I want an autographed copy of your book when it’s out to see how I come off in this one.”

  Tony’s mother approached him now all excited.

  “Does this mean I’ll be famous too, son?”

  “Looks like it. Once we get you back to the rest home, all your new friends will want your autograph.”

  She pouted. “Do I have to go back there?”

  “Until your anger management courses are completed.”

  “Will you watch my gun for me?” she said, raising it up.

  Tony gingerly took it. “I’ll even lock it up this time.”

  Clay grudgingly nodded to Tony. “Thanks for helping us out once again.”

  “I thought we worked well together, don’t you?” Tony said grinning, but winked at me instead.

  I gave him a wink back. “For a connected kind of guy, Tony, you’re okay in my book.”

  Clay stepped in between us. “This one’s put to bed, pal.”

  Tony just smiled. “Time will tell. Time will tell.”

  I love double entendre and happy endings, don’t you?

  I’m so glad I survived ‘the lush life.’ Until next time...

  This ends The Lush Life

  For a preview of the next book in the Samantha Jamison Mystery Series, Book 9, Too Close For Comfort, please continue reading right after this:

  SPECIAL NOTE TO THE READER

  Thank you for reading Book 8, The Lush Life: I do hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked this book, I hope you choose to check out and read the rest of the mysteries in the series. Here are some other possible suggestions:

  Please consider
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  Please read on for the preview excerpt of my next book in the Samantha Jamison Mystery Series, Book 9, Too Close For Comfort

  Too Close For Comfort

  A Samantha Jamison Mystery

  Book 9

  by

  Peggy A. Edelheit

  Copyright © 2015 by Peggy A. Edelheit

  Chapter 1

  Too Close For Comfort

  “Ouch!” he protested, flinching in discomfort.

  “That was a warning,” I said. “Touch me again and...”

  “It’s this cold cement floor we’re sitting on,” he griped.

  I was furious. My red silk dress was probably ruined.

  “Man up,” I said. “Have you heard me complaining?”

  “Being such a hot broad, how would you understand?”

  “Keep your compliments and hands to yourself,” I said.

  He sighed. “I was just trying to shift my position.”

  “Uh, huh. Right. Like I really believe that.”

  “Can’t blame me for trying to keep my hands warm.”

  “They were traveling where they shouldn’t. Watch it.”

  “Now is not the time for you to be so touchy,” he said.

  “Or you, feely,” I countered, losing my patience.

  “Any guess on the time?” he asked. “Feels like hours.”

  “With it being pitch black here and no windows? No!”

  “My throat is getting scratchy too,” he grumbled.

  “After all your hollering and yelling, I’m not surprised.”