The Babbling Brook Naked Poker Club - Book One (10 page)

He frowned, obviously trying to appear to
give the question some thought. “Maybe they were sent by mistake.
If I could see them, I might have a better idea.” He leaned
forward, his expression much less self-satisfied, which pleased me
no end.

I wrote another note—
cannot explain
receipts
—then sat back. “I don’t think that’s possible. We
might be able to make a copy for you. But they’re evidence. At
least until we figure out their significance.”

“I don’t see how they can have any.”

“You’re probably right.” I shook my head as
if in wonder at the vagaries of human nature and the oddities of
anonymous informants. “As long as there aren’t any further
developments, they’ll likely remain a mystery.”

“Further developments?”

“You know. Any unexpected injuries or
deaths. Or we receive another report of missing items or shorted
change.” I closed my notebook and gave him my most serious look.
“You’ve been very helpful, Mr. Colter. You might want to let the
manager know about my visit since I may have to speak with
him.”

I stood and avoided a second handshake by
using both hands to put away the notebook and pen, then I nodded at
Colter and turned to leave. At the door, I turned to face him.

“It’s good to know you have such a caring
attitude, Mr. Colter. I have no doubt the
residents
love the
attention you pay them.”

That erased the smile.
Good
.

Back in my vehicle, I checked the time and
realized I was five minutes from the end of my shift. I called in
to say I was going off duty. From my reading of the bulletin board,
I knew where Devi and the group were having dinner. I drove there
instead of home.

I’d given her and Mrs. Bartlett my number,
but I’d neglected to get theirs. If I needed to contact them, I
didn’t want to do it through the switchboard at Brookside and take
a chance that might lead to Colter connecting them with my visit.
Red Lobster presented an opportunity to obtain the numbers
discreetly. Besides, I was hungry.

The Brookside party was large enough, they
were easy to spot, and I asked the hostess to seat me nearby so I
could catch Devi’s eye. The first time I did, she looked away. Then
she looked back, and her eyes widened.

I tipped my head toward the exit. Then I set
my glass down and walked out to the entrance. A couple of minutes
later, Devi joined me.

“Let’s step outside, shall we?” I said.

She nodded and followed me out. What I’d
neglected to consider when I made that suggestion was that it was
chilly and Devi had left her coat in the restaurant. I took my
jacket off and, after a brief hesitation, she let me drape it over
her shoulders.

“I didn’t realize it was you at first,” she
said.

“I noticed that.” We smiled at each other.
“I also noticed you have Mrs. Bartlett with you.”

“Yes. I didn’t want her out of my sight
until I knew Eddie was no danger to her. I’m planning to stay with
her tonight.”

“She agreed to that?”

“Yes. Oddly enough. Most of the staff think
she’s a bit difficult. For sure, she’s no sweet little old lady, at
least on the outside, but inside, well, I like her. A lot.”

“Yeah. I know someone like that. Tough as
cement on the outside, gooey in the middle.” My grandmother. She
died a couple of years ago, but I still miss her. “Mrs. Bartlett
seemed upset over that story you told about Colter accosting
you.”

“Which is strange,” Devi said. “Because I
had to threat— Ah, that is, it took some convincing for her to
accept my help.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to tell me all
your secrets right away.”

She glanced at me, blinking. Then she looked
away. “Well, that’s a relief.” She hugged her arms around herself.
It’s the kind of peculiar reaction that makes my cop instincts perk
up. Then she caught my eye and smiled.

She has a great smile, pretty lips, and
white, straight teeth. I’m a sucker for straight teeth. My sister
once told me I should have been an orthodontist. But what I think
I’m more of a sucker for in this case is Devi’s eyes. You know how
you can know someone a long time and if you’re asked what color
their eyes are, sometimes you have to think about it? Well, that
wouldn’t be true if the person were Devi. Her eyes are a light gray
encircled by a halo of darker gray, a combination that is both
devastating and unforgettable. And then there’s her hair. My hands
itch to slide over it, to see if it’s as silky as it looks.

“Did you talk to Eddie?” Devi said, jerking
my attention back to the matter at hand.

“I did.” I gave her the highlights of that
meeting, after which she thanked me and said she needed to get back
to her group.

“Before you go, could you give me numbers
where I can reach you and Mrs. Bartlett without talking to the
Brookside receptionist?”

“I don’t know Josephine’s number, but I can
call you with it later.” She dictated her own number, and I wrote
it down. Then she gave me back my jacket and went inside. I waited
another minute before walking back to my table.

I ordered a salad and a plate of grilled
shrimp, and while I ate, I watched Devi interacting with the
residents. I doubted she would ever refer to them as either biddies
or bats.

Throughout the meal, I exchanged brief
glances with Devi, something that made it a much more pleasant
experience than eating solo in a restaurant usually was. Since Lisa
and I split, I mostly do takeout.

Mrs. Bartlett also spotted me, and she gave
me a quick nod. I finished before they did and, on a whim, drove
out to Mason to check on Colter. After locating his building, I
walked around back where a large lawn surrounded a pool that was
closed for the season.

It didn’t take much effort to work out which
apartment was Colter’s. The lights were on, and as I stood there, a
man moved in front of the light, his shadow appearing on the
curtains. A woman joined the man, and he pulled her roughly into
his arms.

I watched long enough to be certain the
woman welcomed the attention, then I went back to my car and called
the number Devi had given me. She answered on the third ring. I
identified myself and asked if she was back from the
restaurant.

“Yes. We just got here.”

“And you’re with Mrs. Bartlett?”

“Yes. I’d like to go home to pick up some
things, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“Tell you what. I’m only a short distance
away. I can come and stay with her until you get back.” I really
should have told Devi that Colter was home and busy entertaining,
but that would negate the need for me to stop by, and I was feeling
more at loose ends than usual.

“Thanks. I would like to pick up a change of
clothes and a toothbrush.” She offered to meet me at the back door,
which I considered preferable to signing in at the front desk.

When I arrived, she opened the door and
pointed out Mrs. Bartlett’s apartment. “She’s expecting you. I’ll
be back in a half hour.”

She slipped past me and walked quickly over
to a tired-looking Toyota. After she was safely in the car, I
knocked on Mrs. Bartlett’s door.

The apartment was a surprise. I was
expecting overstuffed furniture, lots of family photos, and maybe a
framed needlepoint or two, like my grandmother’s house. Instead,
Mrs. Bartlett’s furnishings had the clean lines I’d pick if I were
to bother with decorating, and in place of family photos and
needlepoint, she had an interesting painting of a man and a woman
sitting next to each other on a bench outside a beach house. The
man looked remote, the woman sad. Although seated together, they
were clearly separated from each other. In a modern painting, the
two would be staring at their phones rather than the ocean.

Mrs. Bartlett took my coat. I knew she
noticed my gun, but all she did was raise one eyebrow.

“Would you like a cup of tea,
Detective?”

“You can call me Mac.”

“And you may call me Josephine. Tea,
Mac?”

“Tea would be great.” Usually I stick to
coffee, but never this late in the day, unless I was working a
night shift.

She walked past me into the tiny kitchen,
put a kettle on to heat, took four cups out of the cupboard, and
measured two scoops of tea into a teapot. Not Lipton’s then. And
four cups?

In response to a knock on the door,
Josephine opened it and ushered in a very tall, very thin black
woman.

“This is Lillian Fitzel,” she said. “And
this is Detective McElroy, Lill.”

“Pleased to meet you, Detective.”

“Please, call me Mac.”

After greeting me, Lillian looked around as
if she were seeing Josephine’s apartment for the first time.

“I invited Lill to join us to confirm what
happened when we confronted Eddie.”

“I can certainly verify any
less-than-complimentary remarks Josephine has made about that young
man. Indeed, I can.”

“You heard him admit he was stealing?”

“Yes, I did. Claimed he has a sick daughter.
Um-hmm.” Her tone was dismissive.

“You don’t believe that?”

“It’s possible, of course. But I truly doubt
it.”

While Lillian spoke, Josephine busied
herself with the teapot, pouring out cups of tea for the three of
us.

“Detective . . . Mac, I do find
this a rather curious situation,” Josephine said.

“In what way?”

“You’re off duty, am I right?”

I nodded.

“Well, I don’t understand why an off-duty
officer would be taking so much interest in a case where the crime
was so minor, he wouldn’t even consider making an arrest?”
Josephine finished speaking, and both she and Lillian stared at me
over their teacups.

“Ladies, you forget, I’ve now met Eddie
Colter. And although the crime you’re accusing him of is a minor
one, Ms. Subramanian’s report has elevated my level of
concern.”

“What report is that?” Lillian said.

“Eddie forced himself on her,” Josephine
said.

Lillian’s eyes went wide. “He raped
her?”

“No, no. But he did try to kiss her against
her will.”

“Oh dear. And you still can’t arrest him?”
she said, turning to me.

“Believe me, if I could, I would.”

“And you’re here to make sure we’re all
right? That’s real nice of you.”

“My pleasure, ma’am.”

“Do you play poker, Mac?” Josephine
said.

“Haven’t for a while. Why do you ask?”

“Lill and I enjoy a little five-card draw
and Texas Hold’em. We could play a couple of hands. Just until Devi
gets back?”

“Okay. Sure.”

She reached into a tote that hung on the
back of the chair and pulled out a pack of cards and a box of paper
clips that she handed to Lillian. “Be sure to save some for Devi.
Maybe she’ll join us when she gets here.”

Grinning, Lillian doled out clips while
Josephine shuffled the cards with quick, smooth movements.

We cut to see who would deal. Josephine won
the cut along with the first two hands of five-card draw, after
which she offered me a shot of Scotch in place of the tea. We were
on the fifth hand, and I was on my second shot of Scotch, before
Devi returned.

“Get yourself a cup of tea, dear,” Josephine
said, barely glancing up from her cards when Devi walked in.

I found it difficult to keep my mind on my
cards with Devi there. Like a ripple on a pond, her presence had a
subtle effect on the atmosphere.

She poured herself a cup of tea and sat down
across from me. Seeing the unassigned pile of paper clips and the
whiskey bottle, she looked at Josephine and raised her
eyebrows.

“Join us for a hand or two?” Josephine
pushed a handful of clips into the center. “Call.”

I was certain I had the cards this time, but
after I laid out my three tens, Josephine laid out an inside
straight. Lillian had already folded. With a satisfied look,
Josephine pulled the pot that included most of my remaining paper
clips to her side of the table.

I shook my head and relaxed into a fake
drawl. “Miz Bartlett, I do believe you are way out of my league. I
better quit now less’n I risk losing the ranch.”

With a grin, Devi pushed half her clips in
my direction. “Be my guest.”

“Why that’s mighty nice of you, ma’am.
Mighty nice.”

“Just a minute. We have a procedure for a
situation like this,” Josephine said. “You may have more clips, but
first you have to tell us a story.”

“We call it naked poker,” Lillian said with
a chuckle of her own. She’d also had a shot of Scotch, and it was
clear she was feeling its effects.

“Excuse me?” Devi said.

“We play for paper clips and stories,”
Josephine clarified. “We didn’t think the staff would stand by if
we started stripping. But Lill and I are getting mighty tired of
Edna and Myrtle’s stories.”

Devi smiled that great smile. “So that’s
what it’s about.” Then she turned to me. “How about it, Detective?
You cashing out, or going for a new stake?”

“Since you offered me a stake, you can call
me Mac.”

“And we don’t do none of that
sweetness-and-light stuff, Mac,” Lillian said with a hiccup. “Got
to be down and dirty. Otherwise, we can’t remember it.”

I shook my head and exchanged a look with
Devi, who laughed in response, and it occurred to me this was
turning out to be the best evening I’d had in a while. Not only was
the company pleasant, the Scotch was excellent.

“A story. Hmm.” I cast about for an idea as
the three women got their laughter under control. Then I took
another sip of Scotch and began.

Devi

When I returned to Josephine’s with my toothbrush and a change of
clothes, I was initially discomfited by the presence of the
detective—his friends do call him Mac. Remembering how it had felt
like a warm hug when he’d draped his coat on my shoulders at the
restaurant, I struggled to act as if we were back on the more
restrained footing of our first meeting. But any discomfort was
quickly dispelled by Mac’s lighthearted interactions with Josephine
and Lillian.