Distraught, I didn’t want to argue anymore. And, I certainly didn’t want to go home with my head down, after one week of marriage, and announce to the world my marriage was over. I convinced myself it was a one-off and would never happen again. After all, Sam had too many good qualities to consider. And, surely, everyone is allowed to falter. It wasn’t fair of me to be so judgmental. He didn’t mean to hurt me.
But he did hurt me - very deeply - and it mattered.
Nothing really changed after our honeymoon. “Leopards don’t change their spots,” Blossom would often tell me. “Miss Penelope, you gotta change the wheel; get it to spin in another direction.”
A STRANGE WIND BLOWING
Blossom started singing gospel songs almost hourly. I wasn’t sure whether this was a comfort or a grating annoyance. At any rate, it was a sure sign something was up.
“You know, I keep feeling like someone is standing behind me all the time.” Blossom’s big brown eyes widened. “I think this house is haunted. Now, I can tell you some stories about ghosts that were haunting a couple back home, in Jamaica. No, no, no…Ms. Penelope. Believe me; you don’t want to go through that. That wouldn’t be good at all!”
I stared back at her with knitted eyebrows. She might be on to something. I was noticing some strange goings on myself.
“Yes, I keep finding my book in a different place, and three times this week the house alarm went off. Now you know that can’t be, Ms. Penelope, because that house alarm is broken. You know that fool carpenter cut the wires…by accident.” She gave me “the look” and tutted loudly. “And what about these lights! They keep going on and off…and the washing machine went on all by itself today. I think we need to call one of those Ghost Bangers to come here to Avery Lane and do some kind of clearing.” Blossom looked really rattled.
“You mean Busters.” I giggled.
“Yes, and another thing, I could swear I saw someone standing at the end of the hall upstairs. When I looked again, there was no one there. Aha, this place sure has some strange things going on,” she continued, while fingering the large wooden rosary beads she recently took to wearing around her neck.
I wonder if we’re all completely stressed out in this house. I had to admit that I, too, thought I saw a figure up on the second floor landing.
“Umm, I think I’ll call Phyllis. She has all these books that deal with all sorts of metaphysical phenomenon. Maybe she can help…”
“Oh Lord, don’t be calling Ms. Phyllis,” Blossom cried. “She can’t help us. She thinks because she wears all those crystal pendants and colored scarves…I think she’s some kind of witch doctor!” Her eyes flashed. “And that husband of hers…I saw him at the dry cleaners; he slapped me on my back so hard I fell on the counter.”
“Ha, ha…Frank’s harmless,” I laughed out loud.
Blossom wasn’t convinced. “Miss Penelope, if you call her we’ll have more trouble from the spirit world than we do right now. She’s not right in the head. Just last week, Ms. Phyllis caught me at the butcher. She was going on and on about some colored disks, said they should be spinning in my body. Then, she told me to stay away from bad Carmen. I don’t know even know anyone named Carmen.”
“Carmen?”
“Yes, bad Carmen.”
“Oh, ha, ha, ha…you mean karma, bad karma.”
“Please!” Blossom held up her hand, like a stop sign. “She got me spooked.”
I had to admit; maybe Phyllis wasn’t the right person for the job.
“Okay, well I’ll put some thought into it, Blossom.”
“Yes, please do. I don’t want my little sugarplums getting scared. Sarah said she saw a ghost in her closet. Now, I know little girls have big imaginations, but she looked very serious.”
The next day I had plans to meet Claudia at the gym. It was our routine, three times a week. I got there early and jumped on a treadmill. Moments later Claudia bolted in, out of breath. She looked agitated, and as she neared, I could see she was perspiring quite a bit.
“Geesh, did you run here?”
“Oh, no, rushing around; that’s all…a lot going on. Sorry I’m late.” She looked at me intently. I noticed she was shaking, and her hair was quite messy. Not the usual every hair in place she’s known for.
She started stretching and looked at me sideways, “Hey, what’s with you? Something’s different,” she said. “Darling, what have you done? You’re glowing. What’s your secret? And don’t tell me you’ve been drinking that tonic Phyllis keeps trying to push on me…you know, that green gook - groove juice - something or other. Isn’t that what she calls it? How the hell does she drink that stuff? It’s putrid.” She looked in the mirror and finger-combed her hair nervously.
“Oh, no…not me; I can’t even look at that stuff.” I looked down at myself, pleased with my new workout ensemble. An excuse to shop, I decided to splurge and purchased all the top of the line workout gear I could find in an effort to speed up my frump to fabulous makeover. “I’m just being more mindful, that’s all…soul searching, sort of,” I said. “Ha, I know…deep, right? Don’t worry; I’m not going all granola. It’s just that I’m feeling different, hard to explain.” I walked over to the leg extension and increased the weight. “I started charting my future.”
“Huh?” Claudia wrinkled up her nose.
“Yes. I started a dream list.”
“What the heck is a dream list?”
“It’s a list of all the positive things I want to add to my life…sort of like a mental scrapbook of uplifting visuals. I know it sounds silly, but as my list grows, and I review it in my mind, it gives me hope, makes me happy.”
Claudia was throwing weights around the gym like a pro, and I was taken with her amazing strength. “Sounds interesting,” she said.
“It’s a start,” I sighed. “I’m trying to get my spark back.”
“I hear ya.” Claudia stopped and looked off with a sad expression. “Maybe I should try it. So, tell me, what made you start all this?”
“The murder at Magnolia, I guess. It made me realize how short life can be, how it can be taken away in a flash. It pushed me to think about my future and how I want to live my life. I’ve been having these vivid dreams, as well.”
“Really, darling, do tell.”
“It’s odd; in my dreams I’m free and happy, floating along without a care, infused with an indescribable euphoria. When I wake up, I’m filled with hope, and all these great ideas come flooding into my mind.”
“Go on,” said Claudia, admiring her six-pack. I looked down and sucked my stomach in.
“There’s something else, besides the vivid dreams,” I added. “The house feels different. It feels, I don’t know, lighter. I can’t explain it. It’s like walking into a place filled with an electrical charge. It started last week when I was standing in the kitchen.”
“Huh, the kitchen…must be all those spices Blossom uses,” she giggled.
“She thinks the house is haunted.”
“Wow, well I don’t think you’d be feeling so marvelous if the house was haunted. I think you’d be spooked, not all warm and cozy.”
“Yes, I guess you’re right. It’s really crazy.”
Not a moment later, the gym door flew open with a boom and Selena Clinton, dressed in a bright red leotard and matching sarong, rushed in. I gave her a little wave and immediately regretted it. She made a bee line for us.
“Hola! How fablus to see you both heeer,” she flashed her bright white teeth.
Claudia replied in a sickly sweet voice, “Oh, it’s our pleasure.” Which is code for: make it snappy and hit the road.
“Si, I am come for my persnal traynoor. You know hem, si?”
“Oh yes; he’s fabulous.” Claudia and I exchanged looks. “You’ll really get a workout with him.”
“Si,” Selena continued, sliding her hands up and down her shapely form, “it is the job of the womans to keep, how you say…so sexy?”
“Yes,
sexy,” giggled Claudia.
“Ay yi yi, Jake likes me to stay in the shape.” She winked, and we all looked at ourselves in the oversized mirror.
“Well, we have to get going; see you later Selena. Good luck with your work-out.” We picked up our towels.
“Definitely time to head out,” Claudia mumbled.
“I wonder how Selena keeps her spark alive?”
“I wonder,” Claudia grimaced.
We left the gym in Claudia’s new Bentley, still giggling about Selena’s stay sexy workout. As we headed north, on Hawthorne, we noticed flashing lights. “What’s that? Looks like an accident,” I said.
Claudia slowed the car. “Wow, there’s a lot of activity, an ambulance, two patrol cars, and a black sedan. There’s another car on the embankment.”
As we neared, I turned to get a better look. A Porsche Boxster was pulled over to the side of the road, and three men were standing around it writing in small notebooks. Two police officers were talking on radios, and a medic was in the passenger seat leaning over the driver. He was slumped over the steering wheel. Claudia let out a scream.
“Oh, my God Pen, that’s Todd…from the club,” she cried. “Let me get a closer look.” It was difficult, because the police were signaling for us to move along, but Claudia was able to slow down enough for us to get a pretty good look inside the car.
“Yes, yes, it’s Todd!” A wave of sickness came over me, and I shuddered at the sight of him slumped over. Claudia drove up and pulled over to the side of the road, just past the patrol car. We both jumped out and walked over to where one of the officers was standing. My legs felt week, and I gulped hard as we approached.
“Excuse me, ladies…back up. This is a crime scene; the two of you have to stay back. Please, get back in your car.” The officer was quite abrupt.
“A crime scene,” Claudia repeated, holding on to my arm tightly. “You don’t understand; that’s my tennis instructor,” she explained in a high pitch. “Maybe I can help. Is he badly hurt? What happened? Maybe I can call someone for him.”
The officer raised his eyebrow and shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry; there isn’t any information…not at this time.”
“What do you mean… no information?” Claudia was bordering on hysteria. “He’s hurt, and I’m a friend. I don’t want to leave him here alone,” she pleaded.
“Look, lady, I’m sorry, but your friend is dead. There’s nothing you can do for him. Now move back, and get into your car.”
Claudia and I stood in shock as we heard the words but couldn’t process what was said.
Your friend is dead. The words hung in the air like thick black smog, a sinister darkness. I stood motionless trying to comprehend the scene while my heart pounded, echoing in my ears.
“Dead! But, his car doesn’t even look damaged. What happened?” Claudia stammered.
“Sorry, can’t divulge.”
“What? I can’t believe this. What’s going on here?” Claudia held her head, her hand shaking.
“This is an ongoing investigation; I’m sorry.”
“Investigation…what do you mean?”
“Please, back away and get into your car; look lady, I’m not going to say it again.” The officer raised his voice.
“Tell us something,” pleaded Claudia. “Do you have any clues? Look, he’s a friend.” She wobbled and grabbed onto the officer’s arm. “Please, it’s so horrible!”
“I’ll tell you this much, your friend here…well, this was no accident. It appears to be a homicide.” His eyebrow shot up.
A shiver went through me, and I felt my stomach drop.
The officer walked over to two men with notebooks, and they all turned to look at us. I felt like I was going to faint and leaned on Claudia for support. The two men approached and asked how long we had known Todd.
“He’s our tennis instructor,” Claudia shouted out. “Let’s see, oh, about three years now. He was fabulous; we all loved him...”
I wrapped my arms tightly around myself. “Yes, our tennis instructor,” I mumbled numbly.
“I can’t believe this,” sobbed Claudia, her body visibly trembling. “Why? Who would do this to Todd? This is just all too horrible.”
I looked at the men in disbelief.
“I’m Detective Barry, and this is Detective Pici,” said the taller of the two men. He smelled of cheap aftershave and cigarettes. “Can I have your names please? We might need to contact you later to answer some questions. General questions about his friends, his lifestyle…that type of thing,” he said, peering at us over his small glasses.
“Was it a robbery?” I asked.
“No ma’am. Nothing seems to be missing. His wallet and belongings are all intact. There is something though…” The detective looked at us sideways.
“What?” Claudia snapped.
“Did Mr. Crowe mention at any time…” He stopped and tilted his head, his beady eyes set on us. “Did he ever mention having trouble with anyone…a client perhaps?”
“No, he never mentioned anything to me,” Claudia answered quickly.
“Nor to me,” I looked into the car and trembled.
“Mr. Crowe was strangled with what appears to be tennis string,” said Detective Barry. He looked at Todd’s car and then back at us. “There’s also a tennis ball stuffed in his mouth,” he said flatly.
“What! How gruesome,” I whimpered and grabbed Claudia’s hand.
“We also found these.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a clear plastic bag, filled with tiny white tablets.
“What are they?” I asked.
“Well, they look like pills to me,” he shot back, raising his dark eyebrow.
“What kind of pills? Where were they?” Claudia asked nervously pulling at her hair.
“We’ll have to have them analyzed, but I think I have a pretty good idea. They were strewn all over the front seat of Mr. Crowe’s car.”
“I don’t understand,” cried Claudia.
Detective Barry came up close, nose to nose with Claudia, and said, “Obviously this was some kind of vicious attack…by maybe one of his tennis students.” He lowered his glasses and shifted his gaze to me. His piercing eyes sliced through me.
“And then there’s this...” Detective Pici held up a large ornate brooch.
My eyes widened.
“You two recognize it?” Pici asked with a smirk.
“No,” Claudia answered quickly. “Why would we?”
“You dames are all connected in this town,” snorted Pici. “It’s a pretty big piece of jewelry, kinda unmistakable, don’t ya think?” he sneered. “Tell you what; we’ll give you two a little time to think about it. Let us know if you remember something.” He handed us his card and shot Detective Barry a look. Then he reached into the pocket of his dingy trench coat and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Slowly, he put one in his thin lips and lit it. The smoke hit me, and I felt my stomach heave.
“Can we go?” Claudia smoothed her hair nervously.
“Sure, but remember, we’ll be in touch,” Barry answered. He gave Pici a nod and they both turned, heading back to the police officers and Todd’s car.
“Let’s go,” I grabbed Claudia’s arm and we headed for the Bentley.
Claudia’s cell rang, and we jumped. She found it at the bottom of her handbag and answered it quickly.
“Hello? Oh, Phyllis! You won’t believe this. Todd…Todd Crowe has been strangled…murdered! It’s simply ghastly,” Claudia cried into the phone. “Yes, it’s true; Pen and I are standing on the side of the road…at the intersection of Hawthorne and Pike. It’s crawling with police and detectives! Poor Todd is in his car, slumped over. It’s just horrible.” She fingered the magnificent sapphire stud shining from her earlobe and exhaled slowly.
“Yes, there are two detectives here. Yes, darling…murder! What? Yes. Okay, we’ll be right over.” She clicked her phone off.
Detective Pici called after us. “Excuse me, ladies. Do
n’t forget, we’ll be contacting you to follow up with some more questions.”
“Er, yes…of course,” we answered without looking back and hurried into Claudia’s car.
“I can’t believe this; first the waiter at Magnolia, and now this. What the hell is going on?” I felt my heart pounding harder as I tried to wrap my mind around the gruesome attack.
“I don’t know, but Phyllis is waiting for us.” Claudia turned the Bentley at the next corner and drove on. It took six minutes for us to drive to Phyllis’ house, but it felt like an eternity.
Phyllis was waiting for us in the doorway of her sprawling pink Mediterranean, wearing low-slung jeans and a tight white t-shirt with the words CHOOSE PEACE plastered across the front. As soon as we entered, a wave of garlic hit me. Frank was busy in the kitchen whipping up one of his Italian feasts.
“Quick, come in.” Phyllis took our coats and led us down two steps into her massive great room. “It’s all over the news.” She pointed to a large flat screen secured on the back wall. The local news channel was showing Todd’s car and the Regal’s indoor tennis courts.
“What a nightmare,” Claudia whimpered.
Frank barreled into the room with a large tray of appetizers - cheese, sausage, olives, and little pieces of Italian bread with his special olive oil for dipping. Frank’s always prepared.
“You girls look frazzled. Sit down and have something.” He put the platter down and opened two bottles of wine, a red and a white.
Frank’s thick black hair was slicked back. He was wearing a dark, button-front shirt and khaki pants. His huge 18-karat watch hung loosely from his left wrist. He poured us each a glass of wine, while Phyllis rearranged the tray of appetizers on the cocktail table.
A Brilliant Ride Page 7
