by Phil Edwards
Jake sighed.
“So the lenses, the tripod, the case, the camera…”
“They are all still upstairs in Mr. Rothschild’s office.”
He could barely walk.
“I’ll get it.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He clapped his hands. “So, I guess I’ll see you all later. We did it together.”
“For Charlotte,” Abram said.
“For Charlotte,” they all said in unison.
They started walking toward their separate cars and Jake walked toward the building. Before he was out of range, he called to Gary.
“Can I stay on your cot another night? I don’t want to go back to my apartment yet.”
“Of course you can! We can develop the film together!”
He waved and started walking. Then he felt someone grab the back of his shirt. He turned around. It was Mel.
“You can get his stuff, but then come right back.”
He nodded.
“OK, I will.”
“But you’ll have to tell Gary you’ll see him later.”
“Why?”
“Because tonight, you’re staying with me.”
CHAPTER 50:
The first thing he smelled was waffles. Then the other scents became distinct. Sausage. Syrup. Pancakes. He heard something sizzling on a pan, then crackling after a few minutes. By the time he sat up, Mel had brought a tray back to the bed. She placed it in front of him and joined him under the covers.
“I never cook. But considering all you’ve gone through, you deserve breakfast in bed.”
It smelled too good. He looked down at his stomach, past the bruises.
“Mel, I have something to tell you.”
“No, wait.” She sat up and grabbed his hand. “I have something to tell you.”
“OK. You first.”
“Are you sure?”
He stared at the half empty honey bear.
“Yes.”
“Last night, while you were writing your story, I got a call from Jerry Rubenstein.”
“At the Palmstead?”
“Yes. Have you met his dog?”
“Coconut?” He laughed. “I’ve met the dog.”
“Well…I’m going to meet Coconut too. Jerry offered me a job planning events for residents. No more paperwork, and no more meetings. Just the people.”
He hugged her. Even in the morning she smelled good.
“That’s amazing. I’m so happy for you.”
“I know. So, what did you want to tell me?”
“Well…”
He looked at the waffles on the plate. Waiting.
“The thing is—”
“Your diet?”
“What?”
She pointed at each item on the tray.
“The waffles are low fat. The syrup doesn’t have any sugar. The honey is artificial and the sausage is turkey. It’s all very healthy.”
“How did you know about my diet?”
She grabbed his waist and squeezed.
“Well, I couldn’t tell from looking at you. But when we went to dinner I knew something was up. Then Gary told me that you’d lost a lot of weight your first month here.”
“Before I met you.”
“Right.” She started cutting the waffle. “So start eating.”
Before he could, his phone rang. He searched through his clothes to find it. Thompson. For once, he wanted to answer.
“Sir! Did you get the story? I stayed up all night writing it.”
“Russo.” He didn’t sound good. “Just wait a minute.”
“Gary’s going to send the pictures to you tomorrow. The police said that all of what I put in is usable, so that should be great.”
Thompson just growled.
“Russo, have you seen the news lately?”
“I told you, I made it. This story’s amazing: murder, corruption, politics. I’m begging you.”
“I asked you, have you seen the news?”
“Uh, I don’t know. I guess I haven’t.”
“Have you seen the tabloids?”
“I don’t know. No. Why?”
Mel looked confused. Jake was too.
“Where did I tell you to…to go Russo?” Thompson coughed loudly. He wasn’t laughing.
“Orlando, sir. But we broke this amazing story instead. It’s going to change the whole market.”
“I told you to go to Orlando, Russo. Do…do you know what happened?”
“No. I guess not. But this story—”
“Melinda. Melinda Ginelli.”
“What? Did she dye her hair?”
“Oh no. Bigger.” He growled into the phone. “Apparently, she went to a dance club and took some nasty drugs.”
“Oh. Well, that’s too bad.”
“That’s not all.”
“OK. Well, my story is pretty amazing—”
He interrupted.
“She took these drugs. And then…then she started having hallucinations.”
“That’s terrible.”
“She started having hallucinations. Started thinking she was an animal, or a wild child, or something.”
“Well, that’s a tragedy.”
“Do you know what happened?”
“No, I told you, I don’t know.”
“Turn on your TV. You’ll find it. I guarantee.”
He asked Mel for the remote control. She gave it to him and he turned her TV on. He flipped through the channels. Sports. A commercial. Cartoons. Then he saw it.
“Wow. Sir, I had no idea.”
Melinda Ginelli was stuck on top of a palm tree.
“Did you see it?” Thompson screamed.
“Yes, I see it.”
“Palm trees Russo! And celebrities! It’s the greatest picture I’ve ever seen! And where were you? Sarasota?”
He turned off the TV.
“That’s pretty impressive, I admit.”
“Palm trees. Palm trees.”
Thompson kept repeating the words, getting louder each time. Jake didn’t think he’d stop. He pulled the phone away from his ear and handed the remote control back to Mel.
“I think I’m in trouble.”
“Why?”
“I just missed the most famous palm tree in the world.” He picked up the honey bear. “Let’s eat.”
“Wait,” she said. “I have something else to tell you first.”
“What’s that?”
He poured some syrup on the waffles and Mel got up from the bed. He watched her walk over and take something out of a bag. It was Charlotte’s wooden duck. The dark green paint glinted in the morning sunlight, and the bill was soft orange. She unscrewed the neck and pulled out a piece of paper. Jake tried to see what it said.
“What’s that?”
“Brunfelsia Americana.”
“What?”
“The flowers. Remember? I couldn’t remember the name of the flowers that we were putting in the new garden.”
“You found them?”
“I found the name that night. But I kept the answer to myself.”
“Why?”
She smiled and handed him the paper.
“Because I wanted you to keep coming back to see me.”
He took the paper and dropped it into the base of the wooden duck. He screwed the neck back in and lifted the tray aside. He took Mel in his arms and kissed her deeply. She touched his face and shoulders.
“The food is getting cold. But I suppose you have to go.” She pointed at the TV. “You have to follow up that story, right?”
He tried the waffles for the first time. She was right. They tasted like low fat.
“I could go to Orlando. But I’d rather stay here.”
“Can you do that?”
“I think we should go to the beach.”
“You do?”
“I have some things I’d like to say while we look out at the water.”
“I’d like that. I’d like it a lot.�
�
“Then let’s do it.”
So later that day, they did.
THE END
BOOKS BY PHIL EDWARDS
Jake Russo Mysteries
You’ve read Retirement Can Be Murder. Now follow Jake and Gary on their other adventures…
Death by Gumbo
New Orleans is known for its food, but the city’s hottest new restaurant also serves up murder. Jake has to negotiate the food world, his relationship with Mel, and Gary’s new talents. Homicide certainly leaves a bitter taste—get Death by Gumbo now.
Dead Air Can Kill You
A trip to see an old time radio show in Wisconsin turns out to be more exciting than Jake and Gary bargained for. When a murder happens in the midst of a record-breaking blizzard, Jake has to solve a murder, use Gary’s wife’s unique abilities, and crack the case before another crime is committed—and before he loses Mel. You won’t want to turn the dial—get Dead Air Can Kill You now.
The Show Must Go Wrong
Jake and Gary give their regards to Broadway—and Broadway gives them murder. When Jake returns to New York City to cover a hit show, he gets more drama than he ever expected. He’ll have to learn about the theatre world, help out his friends, and catch the murderer before the curtains close. This is a musical to remember—get The Show Must Go Wrong now.
All the Jake Russo books are also available on the author’s Amazon page.
If you liked the Jake Russo mysteries, you might also like:
Thrillers
Cloud Crash: A Technothriller
Humor
Dumbemployed: Hilariously Dumb And Sad But True Stories About Jobs Like Yours
Snooki In Wonderland
Learn more and connect with the author at PhilEdwardsInc.com.
Find links to the author’s Facebook page, Twitter page, and a full list of projects.
Did you like Retirement Can Be Murder? Consider leaving a review on Amazon. Positive reviews help us produce more mysteries and keep prices low.
“Jacob, my palm tree photography just received a major award.”
“Congratulations. What did you get?”
“‘The Golden Palm!’” Gary raised his cane in the air. “It’s the premier palm tree photography award in the country.”
“There’s more than one?”
“No,” Gary said. “That’s why it’s the best.”
Didn’t like it? There’s something to be said for silent protest.
Gary walked into the room with ice cream covering his shirt. Jake ran toward him.
“What happened to you?”
“Do you know Mr. Rubenstein’s dog?”
“Coconut?”
“Yes. Well, I accidentally called it ‘Coco.’”
“What does Coconut have to do with that spill?”
“Coconut was the flavor of milkshake Mr. Rubenstein was drinking when I called his dog the wrong name. He threw it at me.”
“You should press charges.”
Gary touched a finger to his shirt and licked it.
“I would if the crime weren’t so delicious!”
Thanks for following Jake and Gary on their adventures.
