Retirement Can Be Murder (A Jake Russo Mystery)

by Phil Edwards

  Jake stopped leaning on his hands and let his elbows bear his weight. It hurt a little less. Police. He’d hardly worked that beat, let alone been a featured story.

  “I don’t know about that Abram.”

  “What? You don’t have a phone on you? I do, just in case.”

  He pulled it out and started dialing. Jake reached forward. He wanted to grab it, but he couldn’t make his body move quickly enough. Abram stopped anyway.

  “Why don’t you want me to call?”

  “What would we say?”

  “That you were attacked on the beach. We have to report it.”

  “No.” He exhaled. “We can’t. Then we’d have to get into everything. Why we were meeting here at night. What we were doing. It would get complicated.”

  “We could say that we’re old friends.”

  “Sure. Then I’d also have to give up trying to find out what happened to Charlotte Ward.”

  Abram looked out at the beach and then back at Jake.

  “Didn’t you accuse me of being involved in her death?”

  “That was before.”

  “Before what?”

  “This,” he said and pointed to a bruise. “And this…and this…and this.”

  “I see.”

  “And if you’d been behind it, I don’t think you would have bothered showing up and saving me.”

  “I wish I could tell you…” He crossed his arms and held them tightly.

  “Abram, you wish what?”

  “I wish I could trust you.”

  “I wish I could trust you,” Jake repeated.

  They looked out at the beach together. Jake’s vision was clearing up a little. He could see the place where the beach and water met. Abram gestured back to the path.

  “Sheryl Goldfein knows that I take walks late at night. She knows that I take this route. The route Charlotte took.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Conclusions were as difficult as steps, right now. He didn’t have the energy for either of them.

  “I’m saying that she knew I’d be out on the beach tonight. And the man who hit you didn’t know that it was you.”

  “So?”

  “I think they would have attacked me, too.”

  He didn’t want to believe that anyone would hit a man Abram’s age that hard. But if he could find out who Abram thought was targeting him, maybe he could find out why anyone had resorted to violence on a deserted beach.

  “Can we talk about this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s get up and go somewhere.”

  Abram extended his arm to Jake. Both their hands were wet and cold with sand. He couldn’t balance at first, but then he caught himself. Barely.

  “God. Can’t believe this.”

  “Haven’t you been in a fight before?”

  Had he ever been aggressive?

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “You’ll have some bruises.”

  “I just didn’t even see it coming. I wish it hadn’t happened.”

  “It might be selfish for me to say this, but you should be glad.”

  “Why?”

  Abram touched the brim of his hat and led them down the beach.

  “You got some bruises. But I might not have made it off this beach.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You might have saved my life. I couldn’t have taken those hits.”

  They walked along the shore at the same speed—Jake slowed down by a long night, Abram slowed down by a long life.

  “We need to trust each other,” Jake said. “If we want to figure out who that person was. If we want to figure out who they meant to attack and why they did it.”

  “I want to learn more than that.”

  “What?”

  “I want to find out what happened to Charlotte.”

  “Then we’re agreed?”

  “Agreed,” Abram said.

  They went up the stairs together, back to Sunset Cove.

  CHAPTER 27:

  They were at Building B by a quarter to nine. Abram did live there. With each step, Jake looked both ways for the man who had attacked him. No one. There wasn’t even a shadow now. This late at night, the paths were all empty—he’d already run into the two exceptions.

  Abram’s living room was filled with maps. Maps on the walls, atlases stacked on shelves, and papers spread out on a large oak table. Jake rested his arm on a furled corner. He yelled to Abram, who was in the small kitchen.

  “These maps—are they for researching what happened to Charlotte?”

  “It didn’t happen in Europe, did it?”

  Abram brought in a bag of ice for Jake and water for both of them.

  “These maps are territorial alignments during World War II. I research them in my free time.”

  “I see. Sorry.”

  “Put the ice on your face.”

  It felt like he was being kicked again. Then it started to turn numb. But Abram didn’t waste time on sympathy.

  “Jake, do you know why I was shocked? Why I was shocked when you suggested that I knew what happened to Charlotte?”

  “No, I don’t know why you were shocked.” When he moved his mouth it hurt. But he had to say something.

  “I was shocked because, when she died, Charlotte Ward and I were in love.”

  Jake dropped the ice on the table and flecks of water splattered onto the map. He brushed them off and looked up. Abram’s expression didn’t change. He finally took off the red-brimmed hat and set it down on a green patch of Europe.

  “Do you understand why I was upset? I was so upset that you could accuse me of hurting her. Of trying to harm her. This woman…”

  He stopped and stared down at the covered table, tracing an attack route with the tip of his finger.

  “Abram, I had no idea you loved her. Did she know?”

  He laughed and then snorted.

  “Of course she knew. We were having an affair.”

  Jake picked the ice back up and pressed it against his cheek. It was better to be numb for news like this. The bag sweat down his arm and on the wooden table’s edge.

  “You were having an affair?”

  “For a year. We kept it secret, or at least tried to. But Sheryl knew. All the other ladies at bridge knew.”

  “I just can’t believe that Charlotte…”

  “She was a very delicate lover,” Abram started. Jake pressed the ice compact against his face. Hard. “Always very unselfish.”

  “OK. I get the idea.”

  “Sometimes, we even took photographs. Nothing in flagrante delicto, of course. Merely tasteful nudes. Black and white.”

  “I see.” He saw it all too clearly.

  “She had one outfit. A combination of fur and nylon that—”

  “Abram, it’s OK.”

  “If you like, I can even show you some shots—”

  “Good lord—that’s fine. I believe you.”

  They both looked back at the maps. The colors had faded out. Jake slowly recovered the ability to speak.

  “If you were having a…relationship, then why didn’t you notice her when you were walking on the beach?”

  “After dinner that night…” He paused to sigh. “After dinner that night, I went back to my room, and then I took my walk. By the time I returned, it had already happened.”

  “But why didn’t you see her when you were on the beach?”

  “Don’t you understand?”

  “What?”

  “I never walked on the beach before. I don’t like the sand in my shoes, or stepping on seashells.”

  “Then why did I find you there the other night?”

  “Because.” He sighed again. “I was going to see where she had died.”

  They looked at the maps again, but all the countries in Europe weren’t enough of a distraction. Jake looked up first.

  “I’m sorry I accused you of doing anything to harm Charlotte. It’s just that once I knew somethin
g suspicious had happened, I listened to Sheryl. And I saw you leaving Charlotte’s room.”

  “Yes. Your photographer disturbed us during a particularly frisky—”

  “Enough. I really don’t want to hear it.”

  Abram changed direction.

  “Why do you think there’s anything suspicious about Charlotte’s death?”

  “The walker. She never could have gone anywhere without it, but they didn’t find it on the beach.”

  “Of course. I thought of that too. But I kept my mouth shut.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Do you want to go to the bathroom?”

  “What? What do you mean?”

  “Go ahead. You’ll find a mirror in the bathroom. Look at the bruises on your face, and you can see why I didn’t tell anyone.”

  “Were you really that afraid?”

  “They kept Charlotte off her medication. They killed her. If they were willing to do that, they could do worse. I know that we’re dealing with something bigger than us…”

  “But Abram, who is behind this?”

  “I don’t know. I think two people do know.”

  “Who?”

  “Charlotte is one of them.”

  Or was.

  “Who is the other one?”

  “I have to think that Sheryl knows why this is happening.”

  “Her?”

  “She banned Charlotte from bridge. Bridge grudges run deep.”

  Jake pressed the ice a little harder. After all this, he was back where he’d started. Murder over a bridge game. And Abram believed it too.

  “Do you feel safe now?”

  “I keep a low profile. I’m used to it.”

  “I see.”

  Abram took Jake’s water glass and refilled it. He didn’t realize he’d finished it. It tasted clean, since he still had the trace of saltwater on his lips.

  “Your bruises don’t look that bad.”

  “Good.”

  “I understand, you know.”

  “Understand what?”

  “If you quit looking into this. I know that I should move on. I lost a wife before this. I’ve lost a lot of friends. Charlotte and I weren’t young adults.”

  Abram flicked his hand in the air, like he was shooing away a fly. Jake took the ice pack off. Numb. He dropped his free fist on the table.

  “How can you say that? How can you say that you loved her, and then say that?”

  Abram nodded and whispered back.

  “I’m sorry you got hurt over this.”

  “I don’t care. We’ll get this figured out.”

  “Good. We have to.”

  “Then what do we do now?”

  He kept his notebook open and listened. Abram had a way of waiting before he spoke.

  “The way I see it, there are two things we can do. We can find out what happened from two people. Sheryl and Charlotte.”

  “Well, let’s start with Sheryl.”

  “I believe Sheryl knows something. She knows everything that happens here. Even if she wasn’t directly involved, she’s connected. And she had a grudge against Charlotte.”

  “Why does she have a grudge? Charlotte said it was because she’d gotten too good at bridge. Is that it?”

  “Are you a fool?” Abram shook his head. “Obviously it was about me.”

  “You?”

  “Sheryl wanted me for herself. When she finally found out about Charlotte, she punished her.”

  “Then why didn’t Charlotte realize that was the reason?”

  Abram closed his eyes and sighed.

  “She was so naïve. She never knew Sheryl wanted me. And I couldn’t tell her.”

  Jake wrote it all down.

  “So Sheryl punished Charlotte. And to retaliate, Charlotte started investigating her and the Saving Tomorrow Initiative?”

  “Exactly. And that made things worse. Regardless, Sheryl knows everything that happens in this community.”

  He could tell Abram was holding back. As Jake closed his eyes to think, he saw the bearded man with the red hands. The man from the commercial. He opened his eyes quickly and Abram continued.

  “The only problem is that Sheryl is a wall. No one can get through to her, not even me anymore. She won’t tell you what’s for dinner, let alone what she knew about Charlotte. Or what she did.”

  Unless she was talking to Gary Novak. Jake would have to confiscate Gary’s wedding ring the next time he saw him. It sent the wrong message. Jake reached out to Abram and, even though it hurt to stretch, patted him on the shoulder.

  “I may have a way around that problem. Sheryl will talk for us.”

  “Why?”

  “I have absolutely no idea why. But she will.”

  Abram rose and got Jake another glass of water. When he came back, he was yawning. Jake started to get up.

  “It’s late. After nine.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’m a night owl. I stay up until nine often.”

  “I see.”

  “Occasionally 9:15.”

  He yawned again.

  “I should go home.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I’m supposed to meet someone for drinks. Though since I look like this…”

  “You’ll be fine. But we didn’t finish.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I said you could find out more from Charlotte as well.”

  “But how?”

  “Simple.” He walked over to his bookshelf and moved an atlas. He drew an envelope out from inside the cover.

  “I can’t go there. And I don’t want you to go yet. But Charlotte’s daughter hasn’t been inside her apartment yet. No one has.”

  “Right.”

  “Tonight showed us how big this is. You have to go to Charlotte’s apartment and discover what she found.”

  “How can I do that?”

  “With this.” Abram tore the envelope open. “I haven’t been inside. But I know it works. We used it for late night visits. Special interludes.”

  He extended his palm toward Jake. He had a key.

  “This is your search warrant for Room 112, Building B.”

  CHAPTER 28:

  Jake was trying to figure out a way to cancel when Kaylie started knocking. There was no point in trying to stop her. He went to the door and opened it. She just put her hands on her hips and stared.

  “What the hell happened to you?”

  “I got in a fight.”

  “You?”

  “Yeah, me. Who else?”

  “The other guy.”

  “No, he didn’t get into a fight. He’s fine.”

  “Were you overcompensating?”

  “For what?”

  She walked in the apartment. She was wearing a short black dress. It looked a little cheap. It looked good.

  “Overcompensating for your obese past.”

  “You got all that from finding one Hershey wrapper in my trash?”

  “Sorry.” She sat on the bed and crossed her legs. “It looks like it was a bad fight. Are you OK?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Let’s get you some ice.”

  “I don’t need it. We have to go, right?”

  “You can’t go like that.”

  “What about your friends? I thought we were having drinks with your friends. Won’t they be upset?”

  “Jake, I decided it was going to just be you and me.”

  She tilted her head and laughed. Her short hair fell in front of her face and back to the side. She went into the kitchen and he heard her open the refrigerator. More drawers opened and shut.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I need a bag for the ice.”

  “I told you, I’m fine. Bags are in the bottom right.”

  “Got it. No junk food. I’m impressed.”

  “Thanks.”

  She came back with a bag of ice in her hands.

  “Here.”

  She took the cold plastic and held it up
against his cheek. He wasn’t feeling numb.

  “I can get it.”

  “You relax.” She rubbed his shoulder with her free hand as they sat down on the bed. “Now tell me what happened. Did you have a rough game of shuffleboard?”

  He moved to the left and she dropped her hand.

  “Sorry, I’m sore. And no, it wasn’t shuffleboard.”

  “Then what did this to you?”

  “I don’t really know.”

  “Mysterious.”

  “I know. Too mysterious.”

  “And look at this.” She put a finger to his eye and lightly traced a bruise. “You’ll have a black eye.”

  “I’ve never had one.”

  “Really?”

  “No.”

  “It toughens you up.”

  “I see.”

  They sat in silence for a moment while she held the ice to his face. She leaned in a little closer and his phone rang. He jumped when it happened. It was Mel. He got up and walked to the other side of the room. Kaylie turned on the TV and voices chattered in the background. He spoke just above a whisper.

  “Mel. Hi.”

  “Hello,” she said. “I can barely hear you.”

  He looked over at Kaylie. She smiled and reclined on the bed.

  “Sorry—bad reception.”

  “How are you?”

  “Good. I had a long day.”

  “So did I. A little too long.” He imagined her smiling and remembered the hallway and the dress. Then he looked at the woman on his bed. He was bad at lying.

  “Sorry, I’m supposed to call Gary in a second.”

  “What about?”

  “Photographing. We’re supposed to photograph Rothschild.”

  “Oh, that’s actually what I was calling about.”

  “It is?”

  “Yes. He wants to do it here, at Sunset Cove. He just had his secretary call to tell me.”

  “This late?”

  “The man doesn’t keep normal hours. Does tomorrow work?”

  “Sure, that works for us.”

  “So tomorrow morning? He thought around ten?”

  “That sounds good.”

  They were silent. Kaylie watched the TV and gestured to Jake. He ignored her and she shouted at him.

  “Come here, look, there’s a show on.”

  “Who’s that?” Mel asked.

  “Just the TV.” It was good she couldn’t see him blushing. But he doubted anyone could through all the bruises.

  “OK.” She sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess. I’m excited.”