THREE

Janie rolled out the makeshift map of Sunset Acres onto her dining room table, securing the edges with salt and pepper shakers, a small vase, and a crystal sugar bowl. She’d drawn it when one of their newest residents, Edwin, had been found diced up in the community dumpster. At that time, she used it to divvy up the troops as they canvassed their neighbors in order to glean clues. Now she began to write the names of the streets and as many house numbers as surfaced in her mind. But the residents?

“So many blanks. In the beginning, I knew almost everyone, but now the community has grown and several homes have switched occupants as people moved into the higher care facilities. I need to be more diligent about getting to know my neighbors.”

“We all should.” Ethel angled her neck to peer at Janie’s scrawl. “Wouldn’t it be easier to use the map from Mrs. Jacob’s office? The one hanging on the wall.”

Janie slapped her forehead. “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that? I mean, duh. I work there part-time and glare at it at least twice a week. Everyone’s names are on it as well as the house numbers.”

Betsy Ann knitted her brows. “Won’t she miss it if we take it?”

“I’d do no such thing.” Janie elevated her nose as she sniffed. “I’ll simply snap a picture with my phone, download it to my desktop, and print it out when I return home.”

“Oh. You’re so smart.”

“Well...” She glanced up as the mantel clock in the living room bonged eleven. “I’ll do it this afternoon. Right now, I’m starving. Barely ate a bite of the hospital food while I was held captive there. Blech.” She shuddered.

“Dining hall?” Ethel ran her tongue over her lips.

“Hmmm. Not a bad idea. Then I wouldn’t dirty up the kitchen. Fridge is bare anyway until Mel comes with groceries. We were kidnapped on the day I usually head for the supermarket.” She suddenly felt sheepish over her remark to Blake earlier. Her voice volume lowered with her head. “Guess my daughter figured that one out.”

All three ladies swiveled to the sound of the front doorbell. Mildred stood on the stoop with a paper sack from the organic food store in the outlet mall. “Hiddy hi. I brought tarragon chicken salad with pecans, cilantro, and celery. It’s stuffed in avocado halves.” She rushed inside and continued her speech as she headed for the kitchen counter. “Plus, sea salt baked potato chips, gluten free brownies, and fresh strawberries. Enough for everyone.”

“Way to go, Mildred.” Janie raised her hand to slap her friend’s.

The other ladies began to shuffle for plates, forks, and glasses as Janie rolled up the map and leaned it against the wall. Soon, all sat around the table chatting and munching. Once the initial conversation waned, Mildred dabbed the corner of her mouth with her napkin and informed them of her findings.

“I drove through the garden homes section. A few of them on Radiant Way and Solar Boulevard have numbers starting with three, but none match the pattern.” She rummaged through her purse and pulled out a folded tablet slip. She flipped it over. “I wrote them down, just in case, though. There is a 306 Radiant Way, and a 316 Solar Boulevard, where Gail Morris and her mother live. They are always away on cruise ships. Of course, number 313 sits across the street. Debbie Hainey and her hubby, Dale, live there, but they’re in Wisconsin this time of year.” She cocked an eyebrow. “One of the snowbirds. They only stay down here from October through April. So, I doubt they’d leave anything of value behind.”

Ethel pouted. “Which leaves the condos. They’re, as we all know, designed in clusters of four. Do you think any of them have only threes and sixes?”

Janie snapped her fingers. “Wait. Yes. Annie Schmidt lives at 363 Sunrise Court. Her back door faces the golf course. Well, beyond the alleyway and carports, that is.”

Ethel clunked down her glass. “You’re right. But she’s in Florida visiting her daughter. Besides, do y’all remember what she said when we found the baby in the bathtub?” She jutted her hand to her hip and raised her voice an octave to imitate Annie’s. “Everything happens on Solar Boulevard. Nothing ever happens on my street.”

Betsy Ann sputtered her iced tea into her napkin.

“Ethel, that is not a very Christian way to behave.” Mildred tried hard to keep a stern face. It didn’t work. Her face reddened and she, too, burst into giggles.

Janie snickered as well. Oftentimes, Annie could be a bit uppity. Even so, she was their true friend, despite the fact she had an annoying habit of rolling multiple baby buncos in a row. With her natural born luck, she’d make a killing in Vegas, if any of them believed in hard gambling. Which they didn’t. “Did she leave a key with anyone?”

“Probably Rosanne. She lives down the street. Annie wouldn’t abandon her green babies on her special patio without making arrangements for them to be watered at least every three days.”

Mildred held up her finger. “Excuse me. You mean newly renovated, totally enclosed, all-weather Florida room? She’d shudder if she heard it called a simple patio.”

Nodding murmurs sprinkled around the table. No one else in the condo section had more than a large back stoop. But Annie possessed a knack for gardening and had maneuvered through the community association’s red tape to enlarge, enclose, and weatherproof her outdoor area to accommodate her potted plants. She now had access into it from her living room as well as a bedroom sliding door. It reminded Janie of a Victorian atrium.

Janie set her fork onto her empty plate. “Scrumptious, Mildred. I’m going to call Detective Hemphill and fill him in.”

“About the gourmet café?”

“No, about Annie’s vacant condo.” An idea flashed through her brain. “Say, what if we took turns spending the night over at her place the next few days? The burglars might think twice if the lights are on and people are inside.”

“For once, Janie, one of your cockamamie ideas makes sense,” Betsy Ann agreed. “Annie displays her grandmother’s sterling tea service as well as some priceless bone china high tea sets from her ancestors in England. One, she claims, was used to serve...”

“Queen Victoria,” the others replied in unison.

Ethel extended her pinkie as she raised her glass.

Mildred gave the queen’s sideways wave.

A new burst of giggles fluttered over the dining table as the afternoon sun peeked through the clouds, shining onto the map perched in the corner. Janie smiled. “Operation Threes and Sixes commences.”

Blue veined hands lifted with palms outstretched to slap each other in victory.

Ethel winked and leaned to Betsy Ann’s ear. “Game’s a foot.”

Betsy Ann sighed. “Yep. I better tell George.”

~*~

Hemphill rubbed his right temple as he spoke into the hands-free speaker phone. “I’m not sure, Mrs. Manson.”

“Pshaw. People house-sit all the time. That way, if we hear anything, we can call it in.”

“Assuming the TV isn’t blaring, and they remember to wear their hearing aids.” He continued to click away at his report, which was due on the chief’s desk fifteen minutes ago.

“Now, Connor. That is not very nice.” She scolded him in a motherly tone.

Hemphill glanced around the room mutually shared by the Alamoville detectives. Everyone’s head craned in his direction, their eyes twinkling with mirth.

Phil Edwards, one of the sergeants on the force, leaned toward another policeman, Mike Martin’s, ear. “Bet he’ll be glad when Blake returns.”

Officer Martin chuckled as Hemphill pointed a finger at them, stating he’d caught the gist of their conversation. His attention returned to the woman on the other end. He punched off the speaker and lifted the receiver. “You are right, ma’am. Sorry. It’s been a bit stressful around here.”

“Well, of course it has. No offense taken.”

“Are there any other condos we should be patrolling?”

“Well, I’ll let you know this evening as soon as I study the map in Mrs. Jacob’s office.”

“Um, pardon me for asking, ma’am. You aren’t thinking of breaking in there, right?”

She scoffed. “Oh, my word, no. I work there in the afternoons a few days a week.”

A cold dampness of relief washed over his face. “Oh, OK. One more thing, Mrs. Manson. Should you or your friends notice anything suspicious, please let us handle it. Blake will tan my hide if you become involved in anything during his brief absence.”

“Is he returning to the office before he goes on vacation in five days?”

“Nope. The mayor wants him to rest and relax. Part of it means, and I quote, ‘keeping a rein on his mother-in-law.’”

The clamor of a pot or pan clunking into the sink in her kitchen blasted through the receiver. “He said that? Of all the nerve. After everything we Bunco biddies did to solve two horrendous crimes. Well, that’s a fine how-do-you-do.”

“Yes’m. But I’m certain your safety is at the forefront of his mind.”

“Young man, I helped my late husband, the honored and respected Austin Crime Detective Jack Manson, resolve felonies while you were still in diapers.” She’d lowered her voice.

Hemphill cracked the vertebrae in his neck. “Yes, Mrs. Manson. I do realize that.”

“Therefore, you are aware Blake has come to rely on my keen observations.”

“Yes. Look, all I’m saying is to involve us and let us do our job. We are already canvassing neighbors to see if anybody witnessed anything suspicious over the past two days.”

“As are we, Detective Hemphill.”

She hung up. Hemphill sighed and leaned back in his seat to stare at the ceiling. “I was afraid of that,” he muttered.