Dimson looked Tom, Karen and me up and down. When she got to our feet, she realized it was me and not Karen who was wearing the shoes from the ladies’ room. Her face went from “smug” to “oh crap” in one-point-five seconds.
“Tom,” I said, “Dimson hired Karen here to videotape her having sex with Amsel. She was going to blackmail Amsel for a hundred grand.”
“That’s preposterous,” Dimson said as she crawled to her feet.
“I’ve got it all on tape.” I patted a square recorder on my chest. “Ladies’-room confession.”
“Arghh!” Dimson growled. “I can’t believe you blew it again, Karen! I had sex with that disgusting pig for nothing. Again!”
“Not for nothing,” Tom said. “I think you’ll get something out of the deal.”
Dimson looked at him, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “What?”
Tom shrugged. “Probably around five years.”
He reached behind him and pulled out his cuffs. As he slapped them on Dimson’s wrists, Tom said, “You know, Val, I wouldn’t mind having you as a partner.”
I smirked. “I thought we already were.”
Chapter Forty-Four
When the storm cleared that next morning, Caddy’s was a bit worse for wear. But, like the rest of us, it was still standing.
As daylight broke, the side door popped open and old lady Langsbury came stumbling in. I’d alerted her to Amsel’s presence last night. She must’ve lit out for the beach at the crack of dawn. She spotted me in the huddled crowd of damp, hungover folks and shot me a quick nod. Then she headed straight for Amsel, who was curled up in a corner in his tidy whities, sucking his thumb.
The storm had delayed the second half of Plan B. But as it turned out, Langsbury’s timing couldn’t have been better. She gave the folks waking up around me a one-of-a-kind morning show.
“Get up, you lousy ingrate,” Langsbury hissed. She reared back and kicked Amsel on his ample butt.
He rolled over. “What do you want, you old hag?”
“I want my property back.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The quit-claim deed you forged. I want you to sign a new one, or else.”
“Or else what?”
Langsbury reached in her purse and pulled out an industrial-sized can of Aquanet. “Or else I’m gonna make it rain.”
“And I’m going to start an investigation,” Tom said, rising to his feet.
“Okay, already,” Amsel said. “I’ll get one to you next week.”
I nodded at J.D. He got up and dusted off the knees on his Armani pants. “Why wait?” he asked. “I’ve got the forms right here. All we need is your signature.”
“Fine,” Amsel hissed. “I hate Florida.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind signing another document,” J.D. said.
“What for?” Amsel asked, grabbing a pen to sign Langsbury’s quit-claim deed.
“For Caddy’s. Cancelling the deal.” J.D. shot a glance toward Greg. “Does that work for you, Mr. Parsons?”
Greg’s groggy face switched to startled surprise. “Sure, if Amsel’s game, I am.”
“I’m game,” Amsel said. “I never want to see another one of you lousy people again for as long as I live.”
“Well then,” J.D. said, “I think we have come to a meeting of the minds.”
TWO WEEKS HAD PASSED since tropical storm Randy had blown through St. Pete Beach and taken out the hideous orange house J.D. had sold to Amsel. The storm was officially named “Randy” because it had put the kibosh on Randy Towers, once and for all.
With a few repairs, Caddy’s was back in business with Greg and Norma as co-owners. After re-hanging the sign, Winnie & Winkie’s Bait and Donut Shop was none the worse for wear, either. Turns out it’s hard to hurt a concrete block box.
That human leg bone in the Gulf turned out to belong to a pig. But, thankfully, it was nobody we knew personally.
Faced with Finkerman’s sex tape, the audio recording I got on her in the ladies’ room, and the corroborating testimony of her unreliable accomplice, Karen, Darlene Dimson had faked her last legal document and performed her last hanky-panky for profit. She’d done the deed with Amsel twice, hoping for ninety grand. I wouldn’t have done it once for ninety million.
Not wanting to ever set foot in Florida again, Timothy Amsel dropped the charges against Dimson and left town, promising never to return. As an act of good faith, and to avoid further criminal investigation, Amsel donated the lot where J.D.’s house stood to the city, to be designated as a park.
Regarding Finkerman, I guess no one is all good or all bad. After all the sand had settled, Winky and Greg offered Finkerman a job cleaning up the grounds around their properties, just like my real dad Tony used to do.
Jorge and Sherryl are expecting twins next March, Winny and Winky a son next April, and Milly and Vance six pups this October. Our little family continues to expand.
With Laverne’s blessing, last week Goober took Randolph for a ride in the RV to visit that friend of Jake’s who had that petting zoo place near Ocala. We haven’t heard from either one of them since.
Meanwhile, J.D. moved into the Ovation downtown. It’s still a toss-up which place they’re going to live in when Laverne and J.D. get back from their honeymoon...but that’s another story altogether.
As far as Tom and I go, well, like he promised, Tom took some time off after the case was closed. We headed down to Sarasota to see Cold Cuts, Bill and Freddie at their Sunset Sail-Away Resort. They were so happy to see us that Bill even let the two of us borrow his boat for an overnight sail.
When we woke up the next morning adrift at sea, Tom and I climbed up on the deck to take in the sunrise.
“Look, Tom. It’s as if the whole horizon is on fire.”
Tom wrapped his arms around me from behind. The wind whispered along with Tom as he said, “Red sky at dawning, sailor take warning.”
“That’s rather ominous,” I quipped.
“It’s just an old fisherman’s saying.”
“Are you an old fisherman?”
Tom laughed. “I’ve been known to be nautical.”
“Have you ever!”
Tom spun me around. “Permission to kiss the captain?”
“Wait. Are you saying I’m the captain?”
Tom shot me a boyish grin. “Everyone’s the captain of their own ship, Val.”
A warm, comforting feeling seeped into my heart, swamping the fear that had reigned there for so long. It felt awkward and strange, but I pushed past it and said, “Well, in that case, permission granted.”
As Tom held me in his arms, the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand soothed the niggling restlessness that had plagued me my entire life.
I realized that my lungs took in the salt air a little easier when I was in his embrace. A calmness...a lightness lifted me. I felt as if I weighed no more than a feather.
I was still me when I was with Tom...but I was also something more.
Something intangible.
Something transcendent.
As the sun rose and the breeze tickled my face, I finally realized that there were no mysterious answers to life waiting outside of me, hiding somewhere in the mist waiting for me to discover them. There were no “wrong” or “right” ways to go, either.
There were only experiences waiting to unfold.
And my future was totally up to me.
Looking back on it all now, it had been some kind of miracle that Tom and I had gotten together in the first place.
I turned and looked into Tom’s smiling, sea-green eyes.
An iridescent dragonfly with rainbow wings landed on his shoulder.
My heart smiled.
I was home.
DEAR READER,
Thanks so much for reading Cloud Nine, and the entire Val Fremden Mystery Series. I had so much fun writing it, I hate to see it end.
Many of you have asked why I chose the name Val Fremden fo
r my heroine.
Well, for many reasons, actually.
For one, her first name, Val, is short for Valiant. Perseverance and endurance are traits we all need to get through this life. And Fremden? It means “strangers” in German, and was the last name of her German ex-husband. (Fremder, the singular word for stranger, seemed too, pardon the pun, “strange” to pronounce, so I used the plural form.)
I thought Fremden was the perfect name, because, like many of us, Val sought to find herself in relationships. But after three failed marriages, she realized no one else could do the work for her. At age 45, Val found herself in a fierce battle for belonging. But this time she knew she would never feel at home as long as she remained a stranger to herself.
It’s a tough journey, and one all of us must take – though many of us never finish. Not even in middle age. Not even in old age. Maybe not even in death.
Allowing ourselves the permission to explore our true feelings and desires is rarely given easily. And it’s mostly an internal battle. If we’re wise, we eventually understand that the people who come into our lives are actually our teachers – if we’ll sit up and pay attention to their lessons.
Relationships come in as many forms as there are couples on earth. There is no wrong or right way to love. Our goal is to simply find a way that works.
For us.
And whether we end up with a partner or not, we are never alone if we’ve taken the time to make a friend of ourselves.
In a way, Val got lucky. She found out she wasn’t actually genetically related to her family. *Wink.* But then again, Val and her adoptive mom were just as connected as any flesh and blood could have ever bound them.
So family is something we can’t escape. But it’s also something we can add to, and improve upon. Throughout Val’s journey, she was the glue that held a group of strangers together. They formed their own makeshift, oddball family. Granted, some were odder than others. But they were all accepted, just the same.
So I invite you to accept yourself now, just as you are. Make a friend of yourself. A lifelong friend.
Because deep inside you lives your own Valiant Stranger.
And she is spectacular.
Until next time, all my best.
Sincerely,
Margaret Lashley
DON’T WANT THE JOURNEY to end? It doesn’t have to!
As a Val Fan, you’ve earned first crack at exclusive, unpublished stories set in “The Land of Val!”
The Val Fremden Mystery Series is coming to an end, but as Winky would say, “It ain’t over till it’s over!”
As a special thanks to folks like you, who’ve read and loved the entire series, I’m offering you one final chance to hang with the gang.
Join my exclusive newsletter for die-hard fans, and you’ll receive the heartfelt, hilarious story of Winnie & Winky’s wedding as a welcome gift!
Right now, it’s the only way to get this story!
By signing up to my die-hard fan newsletter, every month you’ll get insider info on what’s new with me, including my new Freaky Florida Mystery Series. (Picture Val’s cousin in an RV exploring crazy happenings with a sexy mystery man, and you’ve got it!)
So join me on Sunset Beach one final time and read about the day Winnie and Winky got hitched. Just click the link and I’ll see you there!
BookHip.com/VXPBJR
Thanks again for reading my books. If you’d like to leave a review for Cloud Nine, here’s a link to the review page:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07HDTXZZ2
If you’d like to contact me, you can reach me by:
Website: https://www.margaretlashley.com
Email: [email protected]
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/valandpalspage/
P.S. If you love Val, I think you just might fall in love with Bobbie Drex, too! Here’s a link to check out Moth Busters, book one of my new Freaky Florida Mystery Series!
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07RC7HVD2
What’s Next for Me?
First of All, Thanks so Much for the Val Fremden Mystery Series!
If you love Val, I think you just might fall in love with Bobbie Drex, too! Here’s a link to check out Moth Busters, book one of my new Freaky Florida Mystery Series!
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07RC7HVD2
DON’T MISS OUT! FOLLOW me on Amazon and BookBub and you’ll be notified of each new release. Thanks so much for being a fan!
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Bye for now!
About the Author
Like the characters in my novels, I haven’t lead a life of wealth or luxury. In fact, as it stands now, I’m set to inherit a half-eaten jar of Cheez Whiz...if my siblings don’t beat me to it.
During my illustrious career, I’ve been a roller-skating waitress, an actuarial assistant, an advertising copywriter, a real estate agent, a house flipper, an organic farmer, and a traveling vagabond/truth seeker. But no matter where I’ve gone or what I’ve done, I’ve always felt like a weirdo.
I’ve learned a heck of a lot in my life. But getting to know myself has been my greatest journey. Today, I know I’m smart. I’m direct. I’m jaded. I’m hopeful. I’m funny. I’m fierce. I’m a pushover. And I have a laugh that makes strangers come up and want to join in the fun. In other words, I’m a jumble of opposing talents and flaws and emotions. And it’s all good.
In some ways, I’m a lot like Val Fremden. My books featuring Val are not autobiographical, but what comes out of her mouth was first formed in my mind, and sometimes the parallels are undeniable. I drink TNTs. I had a car like Shabby Maggie. And I’ve started my life over four times, driving away with whatever earthly possessions fit in my car. And, perhaps most importantly, I’ve learned that friends come from unexpected places.
Val Fremden Mystery Box Set 3 Page 59
