Beauty and the Thief

by Jeff Shelby

  “Whatcha working on there?” I asked, peering over her shoulder.

  “I’m trying out embroidery,” Ethel responded. “Haven’t quite gotten the hang of it.”

  I looked over the colorful woven threads that sort of resembled a flower. “Looks good,” I said.

  She smiled. “Thank you, dear. Maybe I’ll make one for you after I finish with this one.” She lowered her voice. “It’s for June.”

  “June? Is it her birthday?” I’d put up the September birthday board at the beginning of the month but didn’t recall June’s name or photo on display there.

  But Ethel shook her head. “No. It’s to cheer her up. Because of what happened to her business.”

  I tried to maintain a neutral tone and expression. “What happened?”

  Her gray-blue eyes widened in alarm. “You don’t know?”

  “Why don’t you tell me?” I suggested. I wanted to know exactly what the word was among the residents.

  Ethel glanced to her left, then her right. “Someone broke into her apartment. Destroyed all of her stuff. They even threatened to kill her.”

  I frowned. “Who told you that?”

  Ethel stuck her tongue out as she poked the needle through the fabric again. It came up a quarter inch away from the flower petal she was working on. “I can’t remember.”

  I leaned down so I was eye level with Ethel. I looked her squarely in the eye. “No one threatened to kill June. No one is in danger here.”

  She sucked in her cheeks. “How do you know?”

  “Because I do,” I said. “We are investigating the incident right now.” I offered what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “You are safe here. Everyone is safe.”

  She eyed me warily. “Like Arthur Griggs was safe?”

  She had me there.

  “That was different,” I said. “All we know right now is that some items in June’s apartment were…were damaged.”

  “Damaged?” Ethel practically cackled. “They were destroyed. I saw them.”

  “When?” I didn’t remember seeing Ethel at June’s place after the incident, and she certainly hadn’t been there when Aidan and I had cleaned up.

  She fidgeted in her seat. “Sometime that morning,” she said. “After it happened.”

  A shiver ran down my spine. “Was June the one who said someone tried to…hurt her?” Did something else happen in June’s apartment that I didn’t know about?

  Her mouth puckered. “Well, no.” Her jowls trembled. “But don’t you think if someone did that to her, they meant to do more? Like…kill her?”

  I placed a hand on Ethel’s shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze. “No. I don’t.”

  She harrumphed and pulled the needle toward her.

  “We’ll get to the bottom of what happened,” I said. “But I can assure you that no one is in danger here.”

  Ethel said nothing, just pursed her lips and focused on her embroidery.

  I hurried on my way to the dining room, trying not to dwell too much on my conversation with Ethel. Gossip was a part of life at Oasis Ridge, and when residents weren’t listening to the rumor mill, they were often fabricating stories to contribute. I hadn’t figured out a way to combat it.

  Thoughts of Ethel quickly dissipated when I spotted Denise.

  I stopped in my tracks. “What are you doing?”

  An extension ladder was leaned up against one of the dining room walls, easily twelve feet long, and she was standing on the second highest rung.

  Denise glared at me. ”What does it look like I’m doing?” She pointed at the chandelier that was within arm’s reach. “I’m cleaning this stupid thing.”

  “Why?”

  “Why do you think?” If she wasn’t holding on for dear life, I was sure she would have planted her hands on her hips and stared down her nose at me. “Because Anne wants everything cleaned. Including these chandeliers.”

  I didn’t know whether to be horrified or amused.

  But I was feeling both.

  Denise lifted the duster and swatted at the light fixture. “I don’t get paid enough to be doing this,” she muttered. Louder, she said, “You know that, right?”

  “Did Anne specifically ask you to clean those?”

  “No, I just thought I’d hop up on this death ladder and take care of it myself.” Her eyes shot daggers at me. “Of course she asked me. Wait. No, she didn’t. She told me to clean them. There was no asking involved.”

  I grimaced. That sounded like Anne, ordering people around regardless of what their actual duties were. And I could understand why Denise hadn’t challenged her. She needed this job. She did her best each day to keep her head down and just do her work.

  Even when it included climbing ridiculously tall ladders and wiping down the mounted light fixtures on a vaulted ceiling.

  “Do you want help?” I offered.

  “Yes.” She blew a stray piece of hair out of her eyes. “But you’re too late. This is the last one.”

  Relief surged through me. I wasn’t exactly afraid of heights, but I’d never been on a ladder that high and I wasn’t sure what might have happened if I’d climbed to the top of it and then held on, one-handed.

  “You could probably go and help Jackie, though.”

  “Jackie? What does she need help with?”

  Denise swiped at the chandelier one more time. “She’s cleaning chairs.”

  My mouth dropped open. “What?”

  Denise tucked the duster under her arm and slowly eased herself down the ladder. “She had her Wake Up Chair Yoga class this morning and Anne told her to wipe down the chairs after class was over.” She looked at the clock mounted on the dining room wall. “It let out a few minutes ago so I’m sure she’s still up there.”

  I was mortified. Jackie was a volunteer, a professional who offered her time and her expertise to interact with the residents, and Anne had ordered her to clean furniture?

  I forgot about the cup of coffee I was going to grab and pivoted out the door, not even making sure Denise made it safely down off that rickety, too-tall ladder.

  I hurried up the stairs and into the activity room and sure enough, Jackie was holding a spray bottle filled with blue cleaner and a roll of paper towels. Two dozen chairs were spread throughout the room, which told me she wasn’t just cleaning the ones the residents had used for class that morning.

  Anne had ordered her to clean all of them.

  I knocked lightly on the door to announce my presence, making sure to paste a cheery smile on my face. But I was gritting my teeth, I was so angry, and my smile felt tight and plastic.

  Jackie looked up from the chair. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a low ponytail and a small jade earring was visible in each ear.

  She smiled brightly. “Good morning.”

  I responded a bit more tepidly. “Good morning. I came to relieve you.”

  “Relieve me?”

  I held out my hand for the paper towels and cleaner. “You shouldn’t be doing this.”

  Her smile stayed put. “Oh, I don’t mind. But if you want to help, you’re welcome to.” She ripped off a long segment of paper towels. “I can spray some chairs for you.” She aimed the bottle at a row of plastic chairs in front of her.

  She seemed to be in a remarkably good mood, all things considered. “You sure you don’t mind?” I asked. “We certainly don’t expect you to help with cleanup around here.”

  “It’s fine,” she insisted. “My next class at the studio doesn’t start until after lunch so I have time.”

  I dropped it. If she wasn’t upset about Anne’s request then I wasn’t going to pursue it.

  I wiped one of the chairs in front of me, not at all surprised when the paper towel came back spotless. The chairs weren’t dirty. “How was class today?” I asked.

  “Great!”

  Her enthusiastic response took me by surprise. “Great?”

  “There were a couple of new people this morning,” she said. “And I
think quite a few returning students are continuing with both chair yoga and the more advanced one I’m hoping to launch.”

  “That’s really good news.”

  Her ponytail bounced as she nodded. “It’s so good to see people who want to take control of their health.”

  I nodded. “Yes, there seems to be a movement in that area here. I’m thrilled that the residents are loving your yoga classes.”

  “A movement?” Jackie asked. “Are the residents doing other classes, too?”

  “Not really,” I said. “We do have some water aerobics and we’re hoping to get a grant so we can install pickleball courts.”

  She nodded.

  “I just meant that they seem to be focused on healthy living, which is a good thing. With the yoga and wanting to take care of their health more…”

  “Of course.” Jackie nodded vigorously. “It’s good to see them doing things that have proven to be beneficial. There is so much junk on the market these days. Exercise equipment that doesn’t work. Pills and lotions and supplements that are just garbage.”

  “Absolutely.” I wiped down another chair. “Those infomercials on daytime television are the worst.”

  “Oh, they’re getting that kind of information from sources a lot closer to home,” Jackie responded.

  “What do you mean?”

  She made a face. “Those products June was selling. Things like that do nothing compared to the healing power of yoga.”

  I knew that yoga was good for the mind and body, but I didn’t think what June was selling was fake.

  “A lot of people liked June’s products,” I said.

  Jackie’s pretty face puckered into a frown. “Of course they did. Because she made false promises. I’m telling you, she was a snake oil salesman, and I’m sure plenty of residents thought it was far easier to use her products than to put in the physical work that would make themselves healthier.”

  “But she lost everything,” I said.

  Jackie just shrugged.

  I wadded up a used paper towel. “So you’re happy June’s apartment was broken into and her stuff destroyed?”

  Her eyes rounded. “Of course not.” She shook her head. “I would never wish that type of invasion on anyone. But if there is a silver lining to what happened, it’s this. More residents may end up trying yoga…which means they’ll be giving themselves the opportunity to really improve their lives. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

  It felt wrong to agree with her, but the point she was making was valid.

  I just wished that Jackie didn’t seem so happy about June’s misfortune.

  NINE

  “You’re in luck,” Lola said, her gruff voice booming through the kitchen. “I got six meatballs left.”

  “That would be great,” I said with a smile. “I didn’t make it over for lunch.”

  It was an hour past lunchtime, in fact, but I hadn’t had time to break away to grab anything to eat. After helping Jackie finish cleaning the chairs, Anne asked me to refresh all of the bulletin boards in the building. New borders, new decorations, and new printouts of the same information that was already mounted on them. She wanted fresh copies for the visit. I thought about pointing out that we were still a few days out, but decided against it. If she didn’t have me freshening up the news boards, I was sure she’d put me to work cleaning something, and I’d already had my fill of inhaling cleaners for the day.

  Lola handed me a plate with six meatballs swimming in marinara sauce. “No noodles,” she said. “But you can grab a slice of pie. Apple. But don’t take any of the ice cream cups. I need those for tomorrow.”

  I stared down at the watery sauce and the blobs of meat sitting in the middle of the puddle. I held the plate carefully so my meager lunch wouldn’t slide off of it and onto the floor. Lola had already mopped.

  “Thanks,” I said. I grabbed a dessert plate with a decent-looking piece of pie and, with both hands now full, headed to an empty countertop so I could scarf down my food.

  “That looks healthy,” Denise commented.

  She was carting a clean rack of glasses that had just gone through the dishwasher. Steam billowed in front of her, giving her an instant facial.

  I popped a meatball in my mouth. It wasn’t terribly flavorful but the marinara made it a little more palatable. “Two of the food groups right here. Protein and fruit.”

  Denise eyed the pie. “There’s more sugar in that than fruit.” She unpacked the glasses, sliding them on to the empty cupboard shelf. “Did you end up finding Jackie?”

  “I helped her with the chairs,” I told her. “Actually, I offered to just do all of them myself but she didn’t take me up on it.”

  “Lucky her.” Denise lifted the empty crate and walked it over to a stack of them. “Too bad you didn’t help me like that.”

  “Hey, I offered.”

  “Yeah, when I was already basically done,” she groused.

  “I think she was in too good of a mood to be upset about cleaning.”

  “Why was she in such a good mood?”

  I ate another meatball. “That’s the thing.” I lowered my voice a little. Lola was on the opposite side of the kitchen, yanking ingredients out of the refrigerators, but I didn’t want to run the risk that she’d overhear me. “I don’t know how else to put it, but she was sort of…happy about what happened to June. At least the going out of business part.”

  I expected a reaction from Denise. She could take outrage to a previously unheard of level. But she just nodded and said, “Of course she was.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  She grabbed a dishtowel and wiped the moisture from the counter. “Let’s just say June wasn’t her favorite person.”

  I set my plate down, and the single meatball still remaining slid dangerously close to the edge. “How? Why?”

  “Because of that business of hers.”

  “Yeah, I get that,” I said, a little impatiently. “But I just found out about that today. How long have you known that Jackie was upset with June?”

  Denise thought for a minute. “I don’t know. Probably last week when they got in that huge fight.”

  I gaped at her. “A fight? Like, an actual fight?”

  Denise nodded. “Well, they weren’t throwing punches or anything like that. But there was a…a heated exchange of words.”

  I glanced at Lola. She had jugs of milk on the counter that she was slowly pouring into an enormous saucepan. My guess was she was making the sauce for her macaroni and cheese.

  I grabbed Denise’s arm and tugged her out of the kitchen.

  “I have work to do,” she protested.

  My grip tightened. “And I have questions that need answering.”

  I let go as soon as we were out in the hallway. “Tell me,” I demanded.

  “Tell you what?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. The fight.”

  Denise was still holding the dishtowel. She twined it around her left forearm like some sort of sling. “It was probably nothing…”

  I glared at her.

  She heaved out a sigh. “Oh, fine.” Her dark eyes narrowed. “But I don’t want to get involved in anything, you hear?”

  I planted my hands on my hips and waited.

  “It was last week,” Denise said. “Right after one of her yoga classes. I don’t know where you were—maybe talking to Anne?” She paused, almost as if she was trying to remember. “Jackie had packed up and was leaving. Walked right by the dining room where I was, and June was leaving the Gathering Room, holding a half-empty box.”

  “What did she have?”

  Denise shrugged. “I don’t know for sure, but it looked like some of her products. There were tubes and jars in the box.”

  “So what happened?”

  “Jackie marched right up to her and asked what she was selling. June told her and Jackie just sort of freaked out. Told June she was taking advanta
ge of her friends and neighbors by hawking her crap.” Denise looked at me. “Her words, not mine,” she said quickly.

  “What did June say?”

  “Not much,” Denise said. “She looked pretty uncomfortable, to be honest. I don’t think she’s someone who enjoys confrontations and Jackie was really laying into her.”

  I tried to picture the scene Denise was describing. Imagining June as a demure, elderly woman taken aback by a verbal assault wasn’t hard to visualize at all. But I was having a hard time seeing Jackie as the aggressor, as someone who would come out and attack someone so strongly. She exuded such calmness, such peace. Being around her always made me slow down and relax. I found that my breathing would even out, my senses would sharpen, and I would be fully present in the moment. She was like the living embodiment of Zen, and I just couldn’t picture her going after June the way Denise was describing.

  But the conversation I’d had with her earlier came flooding back into my mind. She hadn’t been particularly harsh or nasty when she told me her thoughts about June, but the fact that she didn’t think highly of June’s business had come through loud and clear. And I remembered again how unperturbed she’d seemed to be when I pointed out that the business’s demise had come in the form of a break-in and destruction to personal property.

  “What?” Denise flicked my arm with her dishtowel. “What are you thinking about now?”

  “I’m thinking about Jackie.”

  She flicked me again. “You think I don’t know that? What about her?”

  “I thought you didn’t want to get involved…”

  “I don’t.” Her voice was firm. “But I wanna know what’s going on in that head of yours.”

  A smile tugged at my lips. Denise might not want to get involved, but her curiosity always got the better of her.

  “I’m wondering what the possibility is of Jackie being involved in the break-in and theft.”

  “Jackie?” Denise practically squeaked. Her eyes were huge. “Why would you think that?”

  “I don’t know that I do,” I told her. “But she clearly had an issue with June selling her products. Was it enough of an issue to want to sabotage June’s business?”