Retirement Can Be Murder (A Jake Russo Mystery)

by Phil Edwards

  A day later the marks had just started to fade. He knew they wouldn’t be gone for a while.

  “Right.” He touched a bruise. “In some ways, that’s what I wanted to speak with you about. I’m trying to get to the bottom of something. It doesn’t involve you in any way. But I need someone who’s a decent source.”

  “I see. Is what we say today off the record?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then I’d be happy to tell you anything. What happened?”

  Jake touched another one of the bruises. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself.

  “I’m starting to learn about the Saving Tomorrow Initiative.”

  “Did they do this to you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I didn’t see who attacked me. Even if I did, I don’t think that I’d know what party was responsible.”

  “They are definitely radical enough.”

  “Do you know anything about them?”

  He stroked his chin and then pet the dog with the same hand. Both of them looked concerned.

  “Well, they’re new. I’d never heard of them before the past few months, so I don’t know much. To be honest, Coconut and I only seem to hear bad things about the group. Every time we walk around one of the Palmstead communities, someone tells us about a new outrageous commercial. Always complaints. Everyone thinks they are overboard in their rhetoric.”

  “And you don’t have an opinion?”

  “We’re looking at expanding into some new regions outside of Sarasota. So we don’t have a dog in the fight, do we Coconut?”

  The dog tilted his head and grabbed at the couch’s fabric with a paw. Jake followed up.

  “So most people don’t approve of their message?”

  “I think they would approve of the message. Before this group came around, most people wanted to save the wetlands from development. But now I think that those commercials have turned people against the cause. Before them, people were seriously considering what they wanted to do about the wetlands. But this group acts so outlandishly that it’s hard for anyone to agree.”

  “I see.”

  “I mean, can you take them seriously based on their commercials? Or if they possibly attacked you?”

  “No. I can’t respect them, that’s certain.”

  “Exactly. Their techniques aren’t appropriate to their audience. The people who live here appreciate respect, not dogma. They’ve got time to think about the issues, and they don’t want to be talked down to.”

  Jake rubbed his shoulders with his hands.

  “It’s just all so bizarre that any of this is happening.”

  “It is.” The dog began to burrow between two cushions, and Jerry gently pulled him out. “How did you start investigating this group in the first place?”

  “Well, I wasn’t investigating them. I was investigating the death of a woman.”

  “The death?”

  “The murder.” He was probably saying too much. But he didn’t have time to hold back. “I think someone was killed.”

  “And you’ve traced it to this group?”

  “At first I thought it was a personal grudge. But now I’m thinking it had to be something bigger.”

  Jerry adjusted his body. Couch cushions tipped in different directions.

  “I wouldn’t underestimate the personal grudge.”

  “I don’t.”

  “But what happened?”

  “Two people had a falling out. So one of them started trying to hurt the other person’s reputation, which was tied to the Saving Tomorrow Initiative. I’m not at liberty to tell you why, right now. But I think she got close to some secret about the group. Closer than she ever knew she’d get.”

  Jerry scratched his forehead and clicked his tongue.

  “It sounds like you have a Penicillin situation.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He smiled.

  “Do you know how Alexander Fleming discovered Penicillin?”

  “It’s mold, right?”

  “Yes. He was studying bacteria and he just stumbled onto something big. The bacteria didn’t matter. He just accidentally found the thing that did.”

  “And you think this is like Penicillin?”

  “It sounds that way.” Coconut whimpered and Jerry scratched his head. “Your victim started out thinking she was looking into something small. But she fell into something a lot bigger.”

  “You think that’s really what happened?”

  “I don’t underestimate personal grudges. But why would someone attack multiple people if they didn’t have something big to hide?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’s a good thing you were attacked.”

  Jake laughed.

  “See if you say that after you’ve been hit.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Fine then. Why is it good that I was attacked?”

  “It means you’re onto something. It means a little mold is growing. You just have to keep going after it to make sure it develops.”

  Jake swallowed.

  “Then how do I make sure what happened to this person doesn’t happen to me?”

  Jerry stood up and stretched. The dog jumped off the couch and scampered at his feet.

  “That I can’t answer for you. You can guess that I don’t fight much. Or run much.”

  “Then what do I do?”

  He shrugged.

  “You just get to them before they get to you.”

  “So it’s a race against time?”

  “At this point, yes.”

  “Then what do I do?”

  Jerry sat down and clicked his tongue another time.

  “You start running it.”

  He was ready to write.

  CHAPTER 33:

  “I’m telling you, I just don’t think that this is how I should be spending my time.”

  “Damn it,” Thompson screamed, “I’m the guy who’s paying you. You can’t spend all day at the buffet.”

  He was in the car, driving to Sunset Cove. As soon as he came back from his meeting with Jerry, he’d called Gary and convinced him to set up a meeting with Sheryl. Jake would surprise her by going in Gary’s place. He wanted one more interview, even if they had to lie to get it. But his plans didn’t matter now. Now he had to deal with Thompson. And Thompson was angry.

  “Just…just listen.” He sounded worse than usual.

  “How’s the weather up there?”

  “No time for small talk. You are going to drive to Orlando and get this story.”

  He sighed.

  “Fine. What is the story again?”

  “What is it? Where’s your little notebook?”

  “I told you, I’m driving.”

  “Russo you…you disappoint me so much. I’d demand that you pull over, but you’d just go to a drive-thru. Now listen to me—you’re driving to Orlando.”

  “You know Orlando is far away, don’t you? It’s not like New York here. This is a big state.”

  “New York is a big state.”

  “How many times have you been outside the city though?”

  No answer.

  “You’re driving to Orlando.”

  “It’s a three hour drive.”

  “I don’t care! Do you know how obsessed our readers are with Melinda Ginelli?”

  “She’s just a celebrity.”

  “Just a celebrity? She’s the biggest thing there is. And now, out of nowhere, Melinda Ginelli has moved to Orlando. Of all places! We’ll scoop the competition—they don’t have anybody in Florida. We’ve finally got our celebrity! And they have palm trees there, too!”

  Jake sighed. He went down the off-ramp and stopped at a light.

  “Don’t you think I could spend my time a little better than covering some celebrity? I’m not supposed to bother with movie stars.”

  “She’s got a CD too!”

  “I know, I heard.
But I’m chasing a really big story.”

  “What?”

  He turned the wheel hard. He was starting to get frustrated.

  “I was attacked the other night. For getting too close.”

  “Attacked?” Thompson started laughing. Not a good sign. “Russo, was it a food fight?”

  “Very funny.”

  “I’m serious. Those…those can get messy! Carla, come here.”

  “Don’t bring Carla in on this.”

  He heard Thompson laughing and talking to Carla. He was almost at Sunset Cove, but he was stuck wasting his time on this.

  “OK,” Thompson said. “I’m back. Now, you say you were attacked?”

  “Yes.” Firmer now. Aggressive. “And I’m going to follow this story through.”

  “What is it?”

  “A woman was murdered here. And I’ve been trying to find out why.”

  “Murder? Our readers don’t want to hear about that!”

  “They have to.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you? Palm trees, Russo. Palm trees! And now we have a beautiful woman, Melinda Ginelli, waiting for her reporter!”

  “I think she was murdered for a reason. There’s a radical environmental group. The one I told you about. I know that they were involved somehow. I just can’t put together all the pieces. But I’m starting to get close.”

  “Russo.”

  “Yes?”

  “I didn’t listen to a word of that. It doesn’t matter. Cover Melinda in Orlando! You should hear some of the news we’re getting.”

  “Like what?”

  “It’s just a rumor. But…but I heard she died her hair brown. Melinda Ginelli as a brunette! Just imagine! It’s front page stuff.”

  He parked the car and took the key out of the ignition. As he sat in the Sunset Cove lot, he wondered how far he could throw the phone. But he let it stay on the seat.

  “Listen, I have to write this story. A woman was killed. Possibly by environmentalists gone wild. That doesn’t interest you at all?”

  “Do you even know who Melinda is dating? Or the name of her newest movie?”

  “A woman is dead. Nothing?”

  “You need to get used to it. People die. They’re old. Our readers don’t want to be reminded of that sort of stuff. They want good news.”

  “Like some celebrity?”

  “Exactly! I didn’t think you understood. You know, she might even have a drug problem! Isn’t that wonderful?”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Well start getting it. It’s not negotiable. I want you to start commuting there. Find out what Orlandonians think about her.”

  “I don’t think they’re called Orlandonians.”

  “Russo. Find out what they’re called then. Orlandonians, Orlanders, Orlandish. Just go there.”

  “Fine. I’ll get you an article.”

  “Not just an article. Be there. Nobody wants to read about murder in Sarasota. It’s…it’s depressing.”

  “Sometimes the news is depressing.”

  “Like when the cafeteria runs out of tater tots?”

  Thompson started laughing. Jake heard him calling people over and repeating his joke. He squeezed the rubber of the steering wheel hard and felt it chafe against his palms. Just ignore it. It wasn’t worth getting into a fight. Thompson got back on the phone, wheezing.

  “By the way, Mr. Newsman, you did a good job asking that developer the ‘Handling Handle’ questions. Let’s get more of that. And more pictures with the palm trees.”

  “I didn’t want to ask those questions.”

  “But you did.” Gruffer now. Not laughing any more. “Do you understand?”

  “I understand.” He did understand. That didn’t mean he’d like it. And it didn’t mean that he’d do it.

  “Good,” Thompson barked.

  “Good.”

  “Now go ahead and take lunch.”

  “It’s 10AM.”

  “That’s right. You’ve…you’ve probably already had lunch!”

  Thompson kept laughing. Jake took the phone from the passenger seat and flipped it shut. The conversation was over. He wasn’t going to keep on debating. It vibrated in his hand a second later, but he didn’t answer. He just put it in his pocket and got out of the car. The path in front of him was blocked.

  A line of people progressed along the path, led by someone who looked like a nurse. A morning walk. They were moving slowly as they looked attentively at the trees and grass. They looked happy. Some were in wheelchairs and some had canes. One man was leaning into a walker, light blue pants pulled up high on his waist, his socks taut around his ankles. They stopped and the nurse said something Jake couldn’t hear. He saw them nod their heads.

  Another sunny day in Sarasota. He was used to it by now. Orlando was two and a half hours away. Who knew where this celebrity lived, or what he’d even find? Was he supposed to dig through Melinda Ginelli’s trash? If he saw her, was he supposed to ask her “Handling Handle” questions? Or maybe they’d talk about her latest movie—the one he hadn’t seen. If he was going to Orlando, he’d have to start driving now.

  The last person in the line walked past. She smiled as she walked by. He took out his notebook and opened it to a fresh page. He had a story to write. He wasn’t going to Orlando. For once, the story was in Sarasota.

  CHAPTER 34:

  Sheryl Goldfein wasn’t happy when she opened the door.

  “Where’s Gary? What did you do with Gary?”

  She scowled. She was wearing a pink nightgown, and Jake smelled spices. It was either potpourri or her skin. Her hair looked silver again, and he could see where the hairspray had been sprayed, still wet. She had dark red lipstick on, meticulously and thickly applied. Jake sighed.

  “I know Gary told you he would be here.”

  “Of course he did. Do you think I would have done this for you?”

  “I hope not.”

  “Ech. You’re right.”

  She dropped her hand from the doorframe and motioned for him to come in. He walked in carefully and looked to the right. About thirty rose petals were piled in front of a door.

  “That’s your bedroom, isn’t it?”

  “None of your business.”

  “You and Gary haven’t…done anything, have you?”

  “Today was going to be the day I convinced him.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  “A poet,” she said and sighed. Jake looked around the room. No potpourri. The spices were some type of overpowering perfume. Gary Novak was a powerful man.

  “So when is Gary coming?”

  Better to let her know now.

  “It’s just me today.”

  “Ech.” She threw her arms down to her side. “I spent so much money. What am I supposed to do with these flowers?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It took me forever to cut through them.”

  Jake picked up a petal off the floor. It felt wrong.

  “Did you use plastic roses?”

  “Of course I did.” She held up a pair of scissors. “They’re reusable. I’m not going to waste perfectly good flowers.” She started collecting the petals and putting them into a metal tin. He didn’t want to know how many times they’d been reused. She didn’t open the bedroom door. Fortunately. She came back and sat down in front of him.

  “So why isn’t Gary coming?”

  “Well.” He wouldn’t tell her about Gary’s wife. Yet. “Gary was busy. And I have some important questions to ask you.”

  “Ech. I’m sure.”

  “Do you remember when we talked about Charlotte?”

  “I remember.”

  “Well, I’m still looking into it. I’m going to try one more time. I need to know what happened.”

  “I told you. She was old. That’s it.”

  She started to pick at the lipstick on the corners of her lips. Jake drew closer.

  “I don’t think you did it.” It was true. “But I do
think that you can help me.”

  “How am I supposed to help you?”

  He sighed and drew a line in the notebook. It started now.

  “I need to know about the Saving Tomorrow Initiative.”

  “What?”

  She clamped the lid on the tin. One plastic rose petal was trapped between the edges.

  “The Saving Tomorrow Initiative. I think they’re the ones who attacked me.”

  He pointed to his bruises and she stepped back.

  “I thought you said you fell.”

  “You believed that?”

  “Ech.”

  “Anyway,” he continued, “I think they attacked me. I admit that I thought you were involved before. But now I realize that this is bigger than you.”

  He believed it more now. It was hard to suspect a woman wearing a pink nightgown. Her hair started to droop as it dried.

  “Why would I know anything about them?”

  “Because this year you gave them the community’s charitable donations. That’s why Charlotte started investigating them.”

  “She had a silly grudge about bridge.”

  “And you had a silly grudge about Abram. Right? That’s why you kicked her out, isn’t it? You found out they were together and decided to make her life a little worse.”

  He felt bad after he said it. Her face began to sag.

  “Maybe. But that doesn’t matter.”

  “She just wanted to find out something to retaliate. But the Initiative—the group you gave money to—was more than she bargained for.”

  “I don’t know what she found. But she was old.”

  “No.” Firmer. “It wasn’t old age that killed her.”

  “It was because she forgot her medication.”

  “She forgot it? You don’t really believe that, do you? It’s a great excuse. But it isn’t true.”

  “It could be.”

  He stared at her, seeing past the makeup and mascara. She stared right back. She wasn’t the type of woman who could be easily intimidated. He kept talking.

  “What do you know about the group? Why did you switch?”

  “I don’t know much about them. It’s not important.”

  “Have you seen their commercials?”

  She swallowed and pulled her nightgown tighter around her.