I pulled up to the heavy ornate gate, conscious that my twelve year old Camry hadn’t seen the inside of a car wash in as many years. The security guard eyed my car with suspicion, making it clear that in this country club, even the help drove newer cars.
I wasn’t about to be intimidated though. I informed him that I was there to check out places for sale and asked for directions to the sales office.
Instead of answering he poked his head in the window and glanced around. I remembered the two giant packages of Costco toilet paper in the back seat which I’d been carting around for days. “Never know when there’ll be an earthquake,” I said.
He strolled around to the back of the car and wrote down my license plate, then reluctantly handed me a pass and a map with the sales office circled in red. “The places here go for a lot of money,” he added. As though I didn’t know.
“Oh? Well it’s a good thing my inheritance from my aunt is so big then,” I replied.
I maneuvered through the labyrinthian streets of Vintage Cactus Country Club. Not too shabby, I thought as I took in the McMansion sized condos, the manicured lawns, and the brilliant fuchsia bougainvillea with the dagger-sized thorns strategically placed to keep out the riff-raff.
I entered the onsite sales office much to the annoyance of––I checked the name tag––Debbie Ashton. Based on her expression, I had the sneaking suspicion the security guard might have called ahead to warn her.
Rail thin, her face-lifted skin was pulled so taut that I found it easy to forgive her for not smiling. Once I explained that I’d come to pick up brochures to send to a friend who was moving from Boca Raton, Debbie managed such a painful grimace that I almost felt sorry for lying.
“Marci,” she called to her associate. “Do we have the latest sales brochure for––what did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t. It’s Izzy. Izzy Greene.”
“Izzy Greene,” she yelled.
“They’re in the top drawer of the desk,” Marci yelled back.
“By the way,” I said as Debbie handed me the brochures. “I have a friend in my writing group who lives here. Sondra Sockerman? Would you happen to know where she lives?”
“Oh yes. Stunning woman as I recall. She recently purchased a lovely condo on––let me think––Marci,” Debbie yelled. “Where did that beautiful Sockerman woman buy?”
“Cove Drive,” Marci yelled back, then she bit into some luscious, chocolate-y thing that I’d been staring at. I desperately wanted to ask where she’d bought it but resisted the urge.
I drove around the maze of streets, and, to my surprise, I found Cove Drive without any problem. I pulled over and parked, trying to figure out which of the condos was Sondra’s.
“Can I help you?”
I jumped. A face was staring at me through the window.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said. “Were you looking for someone?”
I rolled down the window. “You wouldn’t happen to know where Sondra Sockerman lives, would you?”
“Oh yes, sure I do.” She straightened up and pointed across the street. “Number forty-five. Are you a friend of hers?”
“More or less. I’m dropping something off for her.” I extended my hand out the window. “I’m Izzy. Izzy Greene.”
“Lorna Turner,” she said, shaking my hand. “Nice to meet you.” She bent down and picked up a small white poodle. “And this is Trevor.” She extended his paw toward me. “Shake hands with the nice lady, Trevor.”
Trevor who was sporting a diamond collar and a pair of aviator sunglasses, looked at me with such disdain, I waited for him to make a comment about the state of my car.
“Are you planning to buy here?” Lorna asked.
I figured she was either totally naive, very polite or semi blind. Whichever it was, I took an instant liking to her. “Unfortunately these places are out of my league.
“I know what you mean. They are pricey.” She blushed a lovely shade of pink. “Well, it’s time for Trevor’s snack so I’d better get going. It was nice meeting you.”
I exited the car and walked across the road to Sondra’s condo where I unlatched her gate and stepped onto the patio. It was at least the size of my living room and dining room combined and was devoid of furniture except for one lounge chair––Sondra was either not into decorating or more likely hadn’t gotten around to it.
I rang her doorbell and waited. One wall of the patio was made up of sliding glass doors which were covered with plantation shutters, which unfortunately prevented me from peeking inside.
I rang the doorbell again and waited. When there was still no answer I banged on the door with my fist loud enough to wake the dead. Which brought back all the fears and suspicions that I’d managed to push aside. But as Officer Martinelli had implied, it was none of my business.
I turned to leave.
Then I stopped, frozen.
What the…
One of the shutters was slightly open. But they had all been tightly closed when I arrived. At least I thought they were.
Did that mean someone was inside? Had Sondra looked out and, seeing me, decided not to answer?
I went back and rang the doorbell again.
Still no answer.
I hesitated, then peeked through the open shutter, but I couldn’t see anything.
Well…if Sondra couldn’t be bothered to answer the door I certainly couldn’t be bothered to worry about her ankle chain. I walked to my car, irritated that I was still stuck with it. As I was about to drive off it struck me what to do.
I headed across the street to Lorna’s condo.
Trevor responded to the doorbell by barking his head off while Lorna greeted me like I was a long lost friend. “I was just finishing off the last piece of yummy chocolate ganache from that new French Connection Bakery on Palm Canyon Drive. It’s my guilty pleasure,” she laughed, dabbing at the invisible crumbs on her lips. “If there was any left I’d invite you in for some.”
“I know all about guilty pleasures. Unfortunately I’m on a strict diet so I’m afraid I couldn’t have had any.” Who was I kidding? I’d have killed for a bite of the chocolate ganache.
“Lorna, I’m sorry to bother you but I need to ask a favor. This belongs to Sondra…” I held out the ankle chain. “I found it on the hiking trail. Anyway, she’s not answering her doorbell so I thought perhaps you could give it to her when you see her.”
“Oh. I don’t know, I would hate to be responsible for it,” she said. “Though I will see her at the homeowner’s meeting this evening. We’ll be choosing our new condo colors and Sondra’s on the list to speak about the different options.”
“Perfect.” I shoved the chain in her hand before she could change her mind.
“I guess it’ll be okay,” she said, looking dubious. “Write down your name and phone number. In case there’s any problem.”
“Oh, I’m sure there won’t be a problem.” I wrote down the information Lorna wanted, thanked her profusely and walked to my car feeling pleased with myself. I’d not only solved the Sondra issue, but learned where Lorna had bought that luscious sounding dessert.
I got in the car and made a u-turn, then slowly rolled past Sondra’s condo to take a last look into her courtyard. All the shutters now appeared closed. But I couldn’t tell for sure from this distance.
Who knows? Maybe I was wrong before.
Let it go, Izzy, I told myself. The ankle chain was out of your hands. Literally. It was Lorna’s problem now.
I took off for the French Connection Bakery praying they weren’t sold out of chocolate ganache. I would treat myself as a reward for my good deed.
Chapter 14
It was time to finish searching. The manuscript had to be here somewhere. He opened the shutter again and looked out. At least that nosy bitch finally left. If she came back again, He’d have to take care of her––for good.
Chapter 15
The Meat Market that Frank had invited me to, was aptly n
amed. A couple of Palm Springs guys took over a butcher shop that had been around for ages and transformed it into a trendy wine tasting venue. It was the latest hot spot and “everyone” would be there. Which meant the pressure was on.
I rifled through my closet but found nothing that looked worthy of the occasion so I decided to do what I always did in similar, dire situations. I called my fashion maven.
“Sexy, Something very sexy,” Flo said. “It can be dressy or casual, so long as it spells sexy.”
“How does that apply to my wardrobe?’
“That’s a problem,” she sighed. “How about a pair of uber-tight black pants?”
“All my pants are uber tight.”
“Serves you right. Who’s always suggesting we go to Starbucks? As for the top, it should be something revealing. Cut out. Front and back preferably.”
“The only thing that fits that description are the old tee-shirts with holes that I sleep in.”
“A word of advice, if you end up going to bed with Frank you are not to wear one of those.”
“Go to bed with Frank? Are you kidding! I hardly know him!”
“Always the best kind.”
“As my fashion consultant, you’ve failed miserably. You’re fired,” I said and hung up.
Ten minutes later Flo appeared at my door and handed me a pink silk top with a scooped out front and back. “You’re a true friend,” I said hugging her.
“It’s from Nieman Marcus. Don’t get spots on it.”
Dressed to the nines, I was feeling downright glamorous as I pulled into the crowded parking lot. After finally finding a parking spot, I turned off the engine, slipped off my flats and squashed my feet into pair of high heels that I hadn’t worn in over a year.
I exited the car and made my way slowly and carefully across the parking lot to the entrance, hoping that my shoes would eventually stretch to accommodate my feet.
“Well, if it ain’t the beauteous Izzy,” Danny said in greeting. “What are you doing here?”
“The same thing you are.”
“Yeah. Just thought I’d do a little mingling. Say, do me a favor,” he said, looking at me intently. “Keep your eyes out for Sondra. If you see her, tell her I’m looking for her.”
“Sondra? She’s coming here?”
“Here’s hoping,” he said raising his glass. “I told her about the opening of the Meat Market when she came to the writing group and she seemed interested so I thought she might show.”
“Will do,” I said. I felt a tap on my shoulder and spun around. “Lorna!” I looked at her in surprise. She looked more beautiful than ever. She was wearing a simple black sheath that clung to her body. Unlike many of the other patrons she wasn’t wearing any jewelry so there was nothing to detract from her stunning figure. I glanced down to make sure Trevor wasn’t around. Thankfully, he wasn’t.
“I’m so glad I ran into you,” she said. “I was planning to call you tomorrow morning.”
Uh oh. Trouble on the horizon. “Glad to see you too, Lorna,” I said. Which was not exactly true. I liked Lorna and was grateful to her for turning me on to the chocolate ganache but I dreaded her reason for wanting to call.
“Unfortunately Sondra didn’t show up at the condo meeting last night so I couldn’t give her the ankle chain. I was surprised since she seemed so into the paint project when it was first discussed.”
Okay, get on with the bad news.
“I hope you understand, Izzy, but I don’t want to be responsible for it. So if you’ll drop by tomorrow I’ll give it back to you.”
Lorna sounded so adamant I knew there was no way I could wriggle out of it. “Okay,” I said.
“Thanks, Izzy. I really appreciate it. Tomorrow then?”
I managed a weak smile. “Tomorrow.”
I walked around looking for Frank. I’d never seen so many beautiful people in one place. And not just the women. The younger guys were handsome and slim and dressed in body fitting tees and blue jeans––which I bet cost a lot more than my fifty dollar Levi’s.
The trim and well-preserved older guys were dressed in casually elegant sports coats and slacks. Though some wore blue jeans for that “I’m hip” look. A few obviously hadn’t received the message that the opening of the Meat Market was the Palm Springs version of a happening and came dressed in khakis and alligator tees.
As for the women––I’d never seen so much Botox and so many size two’s all in one place. I vowed to restart my diet tonight––tomorrow at the latest.
I didn’t see Frank and wondered if he’d decided not to come. Perhaps I’d offended him by turning down his offer to drive me. I had the feeling that he was sensitive but I hoped he wasn’t too sensitive or else our relationship was doomed before it began.
In order that the evening not be a total bust, I headed to the buffet table. What a glorious sight it was––chicken wings, turkey breast, roast beef. I was about to load up my plate and get my money’s worth out of the thirty dollar cover charge, when Frank rushed up. “There you are, Izzy. I knew I’d find you here.”
Where…at the buffet table?
“I thought maybe you weren’t coming,” I said.
He kissed me on the cheek. “I’m sorry I’m late. Had to stop for gas. I’m glad you didn’t leave.” He glanced around the room. “Let’s find a table and sit down until the crowd thins out around the buffet table.”
Was he kidding? That crowd would never thin out. And my stomach was begging for food. I’d had only half a grilled cheese sandwich and glass of milk plus two cups of black coffee in the hope of fitting into my black pants.
“Was that a friend of yours who I saw you talking to?” He nodded toward Lorna who was now surrounded by no less than three good-looking men.
“That’s Lorna Turner, a neighbor of Sondra Sockerman. You remember Sondra.”
“Sondra?” Frank looked confused for a moment. “Oh her,” he laughed. “Yeah, I remember her. She came to our reading group that one time. Tall, sexy. Bosomy.”
Et tu, Frank?
I was about to suggest that we get some food before it all disappeared but I remembered Flo’s warning. “Izzy, whatever you do, don’t hover over the food.”
I told her I’d read that men think it’s sexy to see a woman with a hearty appetite. “That’s true,” Flo had agreed, “but only if you’re a size two. Which unfortunately you’re not.”
“Say, would you like me to get us something to nibble on?” Frank asked once we were seated. Nibble? Was he kidding? I could eat a cow. “Perhaps a piece of cheese and a cracker or two,” I said daintily. And speed it up before I die of starvation.
I sat back and watched the couples slow dance to the music from the Fifties, envious that their shoes weren’t subjecting them to a slow, painful death.
As I managed to slip one blistered foot out of my shoe without screaming, I heard a familiar voice. Merv! I’d know that two-timing voice anywhere.
I glanced around. Merv was standing off to the side talking to his friend, Foster. I checked to see if Sondra was with them but saw no sign of her. Was it possible that she and Merv were no longer an item? And if so, was it because Sondra was dead?
In any case I needed to get to a mirror and check my makeup and hair before he saw me.
Frank’s eyes lit up when I returned to our table. “I wondered where you’d gone,” he said. “I thought maybe you took off.”
“Oh, Frank, why would you think that? I just needed a bathroom break.”
Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Merv heading in our direction. Without stopping to think, I grabbed Frank, pulled him toward me and planted a long and passionate kiss on his lips.
Unfortunately when I checked to see Merv’s reaction, he had disappeared. Oh well. So it was a wasted kiss.
Or was it? I looked at Frank who was grinning from ear to ear.
Chapter 16
“You what!” Flo screamed into the phone. “You grabbed Frank and kissed him? Now that’s
what I call playing hard to get.”
“I only did it to make Merv jealous.”
“Great. It’s all about Merv again. Didn’t I tell you to forget that two-timing SOB? So how was it?”
“How was what?”
“The kiss, stupid.”
“Not bad.” I let my voice trail off for added suspense. “Now that I think about it, not bad at all. But I can’t talk now. I have to come up with a story for my writing group.”
“Fine, then call me when you have time to go into more detail,” Flo said in a huff and hung up.
The more I thought about it the more I realized my ‘date’ with Frank had turned out better than ‘not bad.’ Frank might be just what I needed to get over Merv.
I fired up my laptop to finish my story about a woman who decided to poison her cheating boyfriend by adding arsenic to her meatloaf. I figured this one had legs. Unfortunately by the time I had finished eking out three pages, it was clear the legs had feet of lead and were going nowhere. I had to take something to the writing group so it would have to do.
***************
“So, how did your date with Frank work out?” Danny asked with a leer. “Get any action?”
I ignored Danny’s comment hoping he’d take the hint and drop it before Frank arrived. The last thing I wanted was for us to be the object of gossip since I knew Frank wasn’t the kind of guy that would be comfortable having people talking about him.
“I kept my eye out for Sondra at the Meat Market like you asked but I didn’t see her,” I said changing the subject. “She was probably out with some handsome, young mogul.”
Danny looked so depressed I felt a twinge of guilt. “Just kidding,” I said. “I have no idea where Sondra was.”
Looking even more depressed, Danny shook his head. “Nah, you’re probably right.”
Just then Frank walked into the room and took his usual seat at the end of the table. He leaned forward and gave me a big smile and a wave. The heat rushed to my face. It was probably flaming red. You’ve got to be kidding. Blushing at my age?
Sylvia Selfman - Izzy Greene 01 - Murder She Typed Page 5
