Getting Old is the Best Revenge (29 page)

Read Getting Old is the Best Revenge Online

Authors: Rita Lakin

Tags: #Mystery Fiction, #women sleuths, #Gold, #General, #Bingo, #Women Detectives, #Political, #Retirees, #Fiction, #Ft. Lauderdale (Fla.), #Older People, #Gladdy (Fictitious Character), #Mystery & Detective, #Cruise Ships, #Older Women, #Florida, #Fort Lauderdale (Fla.)

Evvie adds, "She would have been Death by Falling off a Cliff."

"Oy," says Bella, "I have such a headache from all this
meshugas.
"

"They all used their former talents to do the job," I say. "That's pretty diabolical."

"Yeah.
Strangers on a Train
with special skills." Evvie looks me straight in the eye and says, "It was not about heart attacks, after all."

I know she's referring to our talk about my being obsessed by murder. "Ironic, though. I wouldn't have paid attention if I'd heard they were 'accidents.' " And I think to myself how close I came to not coming along on this trip at all.

"Got it?" Evvie asks the girls.

"No," say Sophie and Bella together.

"So," Ida says to me, ignoring them. "And what about all those coincidences you say you never believe in? Like coming aboard this ship and meeting Amy?"

Says Bella, "And you going to a funeral for a rich dead lady and finding out she's Angelina's cousin?"

"Yeah, and then meeting the Sicilianos in the restaurant in Puerto Rico. We could have been on board the whole trip and never run into them." This from Evvie.

"And then finding out we're all on the same ship," says Ida.

"And us meeting Roberto 'cause we took dance lessons," says Bella. She sighs. "How could such a dreamboat be a killer?"

"And," says Sophie, "my winning a cruise in the first place and the ship turns out to be
this
one."

They all look to me to hear what I say about that. I take a slow bite of my prune Danish. Then a sip of my coffee. "I don't consider any of these coincidences," I say grandly.

"What!" Evvie says in disbelief.

"What!" echo the others.

I wait for a few moments and I smile. "It was all
beshert.
"

I don't have to translate for them that
"beshert"
means "meant to be."

Yes, it was definitely meant to be.

Epilogue

Lovers Take Flight

W
e are in the atrium, with sun hats and cam

eras, ready to go ashore to visit Antigua. As we glance through colorful brochures, we hear the PA system announce: "Mrs. Gladys Gold and companions, please report to the captain's conference room."

"Now what did we do?" Evvie asks sarcastically.

"Maybe he just wants to have more fun at our expense," I say. I wonder if he's married. Nah! What woman would put up with him? On the other hand, he's got a sense of humor. Weird, but funny.

Bella suggests, "Maybe he has money for us. Everybody else does."

A man in a Dolphins cap hurries to where a small group of passengers are getting checks cashed. "Hey," he says to his friends excitedly, "you gotta see this. There're cops outside."

In a flash, we hurry out after the curious passengers, onto the nearest deck. Sure enough, we are just in time to see Robert Martinson being led into a police car.

The Sicilianos are also there. I can see Elio, being restrained by a policeman, as he shakes his fists and shouts at Bob, but I'm unable to make out his words. I can guess, though.

"Should we go down there?" Evvie asks.

I am torn. I'd like to force pretty-boy "Roberto" into taking another look at the women who brought him down. Gloating would be such fun. But the captain is waiting for us.

"You're not such a great dancer!" Bella yells down at her Roberto. I hope that sad shout eases her disappointment in her idol. Sophie can only turn away.

"Come on, girls. Let's see what new surprise the captain has for us."

There is a surprise. And what a wonderful, unexpected surprise it is. Chatting with Captain Standish are Morrie and Jack.
My
Morrie and Jack! Amy is there, as well, and also the first mate.

Jack and I take one look at one another and ignore our usual caution. We run into each other's arms.

"What are you doing here?" I ask breathlessly.

"I came to keep you from getting into more trouble." His smile could light up the room.

"I'm so sorry I left without calling." I want to run my hands through his hair. I want to touch every part of his face. And more . . . but I don't dare.

"No, I'm the one to be sorry for being so stubborn." He is also restraining himself in front of this group, all of whom watch with great interest. Except for the captain, whose demeanor says he's seen it all.

"No, it's my fault, not yours."

"Kiss him already," says Bella delightedly, "so we can find out what's going on."

And I do. And for once I'm not concerned what my girls might be thinking. And neither is he.

We get a smattering of applause.

"How did you get here?" Evvie wants to know.

"A private plane," says Morrie, "compliments of the Boca Raton police department. They sent us to make sure Martinson gets extradited back to them."

"See, and you guys never believed me." I am quite smug now.

Morrie says, "That's because you're senile and we never listen to old people, let alone women." He grins.

Bella reaches over and gives him a gentle swat on the tush. "Behave yourself." Bella, old family friend of the Langfords, feels she can take this liberty.

Jack chimes in. "Come on, you never believed it yourself at the beginning. In fact, you made the whole thing up just to get attention." He reaches around my waist and holds me tightly. I hope he never lets go.

Morrie says, "I thought you gals would like to know, right now the police in West Palm Beach, Sarasota Springs, and Miami Beach are picking up the husbands of Elizabeth Johnson, Margaret Sampson, and Amy Larkin."

"Is there a reward," Bella asks brightly, "for catching these killers?"

Everyone laughs at this. Except me. I stare at her in sharp reproach. Enough already, Bella.

Morrie takes a check out of his wallet. "As a matter of fact, I've been holding this for you until you got home from your cruise. This is for finding Mrs. Johnson's diamond ring."

"How much?" Both Sophie and Bella chime in on that. Bella's hand shoots out to take the check. She shrugs and grins at me. She's on a roll. Money just keeps pouring in.

"Just one moment," I say coolly. "Who paid this reward?"

"Thomas Johnson, her husband."

"The same Thomas Johnson who murdered Margaret Sampson and arranged for his own wife, Elizabeth, to be killed by Harry Larkin? No, thank you. I call that blood money."

"Spoilsport," Bella whines.

"Give it to charity," Sophie says, mimicking me.

"We were right!" Evvie says excitedly, practically jumping up and down. "The initials on the treasure chest! HL! Harry Larkin."

With that, I dig my elbow into Morrie's stomach. "I told you so!"

"Ouch," says Morrie.

"Next time listen to the old broad."

"Well," says Captain Standish, looking at each of us in turn, "I might thank you for giving us such an exhilarating voyage. Then again I might not." Here goes droll again.

"You'll probably be seeing us on the next bingo cruise," Evvie informs him.

"I can hardly wait." With that he turns and leaves with his first mate. His first mate winks at us behind the captain's back.

There is silence in the room.

"Well," says Ida, "time to go sightseeing." Our man-hater hasn't even peeked at Jack this whole time.

The girls head eagerly for the door. Then they glance back at me. I haven't moved and Jack hasn't let go of me.

Here goes nothing. I take a deep breath. "Would you mind if I left the cruise and went back with Jack? And Morrie?" As if Morrie is supposed to be a chaperone. No one's fooled.

More silence. I almost wish stony Standish was back again to pep things up.

Sophie takes a wild shot. "You'll miss the last bingo day. The big prize is five thousand dollars."

"Go for it," I tell them. "With your winning streak, you're bound to win it. Just remember," I say, staring directly at Sophie, "I'm still your partner."

The girls now look to Evvie. Last chance.

She and I exchange a sisterly look. Time to let go, Ev, is the message I'm sending. She nods. She got it.

"You go on, Glad. You never liked bingo anyway."

"Will you be okay?" This is me to all the girls.

"You think we're kids or something?" Bella says, insulted. "We got maps." She giggles. "And lots of money to spend."

"Yeah," adds Sophie, "we can take care of ourselves."

"Evvie can take your place," says Ida spitefully. Then she smiles a truly loving smile.

"Hey, girls," I say, "one more thing." I speak with great assurance now. "I know how to find out who the Peeping Tom back home is."

"Oh, yeah," says Ida. "How?"

"Remember all the poems crazy Greta Kronk wrote? And her apartment, where we found those drawings of our neighbors that matched the poems on her wall?"

"I remember," says Sophie. " 'Tessie is fat, that's that.' I loved that one."

"So?" Ida is waiting.

"She had one on the wall about someone who was a 'sneaky, peeky.' Anybody remember that?"

A shaking of heads.

"I do, but with my memory, I can't think of who she meant. Good thing we saved all those drawings."

We all hug. They say good-byes to the guys. And leave. Not even a last look back. They're out of here. And on their own.

Morrie announces tactfully that he'll wait for us downstairs. Then he grins at me.

Finally. "Alone at last," I whisper to Jack.

"Not an easy place to get to."

Another big kiss. When I come up for air, I say, "We better leave before they change their minds. Let's go to my cabin and I'll get my things."

As we head down the corridor to the elevator, Jack says, "I've never seen Antigua. Want to find a place here?"

"No way. Pick somewhere else. Anywhere in the world but here."

Jack is puzzled. "Why?"

"Because they'll find us. I promise you they will. As Evvie likes to say, 'You can run, but you can't hide.' "

As we get into the elevator, I say, "I have something important to tell you."

"I know," he says.

He holds me tightly. I feel the ice around my heart finally begin to melt.

Acknowledgments

Camille Minichino, Jonnie Jacobs, Margaret Lucke, my mystery-writer pals. Thanks for all our "kitchen klatch" sessions, so much fun and so helpful.

Caitlin Alexander for being the perfect editor. Always right on!

Josh Jason and Sharon Propson for guiding me through the perils of PR.

Dick Katz for great last-minute insights.

The Women Who Walk on Water in Wisconsin for being first readers. And to Margaret Sampson, who "gave her life" to Chapter One.

And yes, Judy and Rose again, the bingo
mavens.

And to the Bingo Dolls, who couldn't come aboard.

And again for all my friends and supporters. You know who you are.

About the Author

Fate (aka, marriage) took Rita Lakin from New York to Los Angeles, where she was seduced by palm trees and movie studios. Over the next twenty years she wrote for television and had every possible job from freelance writer to story editor to staff writer and, finally, producer. She worked on shows such as
Dr. Kildare, Peyton Place, Mod Squad,
and
Dynasty,
and created her own shows, including
The
Rookies, Flamingo Road,
and
Nightingales
. She wrote many movies-of-the-week and miniseries, such as
Death Takes a Holiday, Women in Chains,
Strong Medicine,
and V
oices of the Heart
. She has also written the theatrical play
No Language but
a Cry
and is the co-author of
Saturday Night at
Grossinger's,
both of which are still being produced across the country. Rita has won awards from the Writers Guild of America, as well as the Mystery Writers of America's Edgar Allan Poe Award and the coveted Avery Hopwood Award from the University of Michigan. She lives in Marin County, California, where she is currently at work on her next mystery starring the indomitable Gladdy Gold. Visit her on the Web at
www.ritalakin.com
or e-mail her at
[email protected]
.