Baby Bunco Read online

  “Earl Grey.” Ethel placed the pastries on a plate and put it on the breakfast bar separating her dining room from the kitchen. Jane reached behind the skim milk in the fridge for the low cholesterol margarine substitute. She held the container up. “Is that all you buy? Hardly seems right to disgrace these homemade yummies with fake butter.”

  “Try to convince my doctor.” Ethel sighed as she plopped onto the stool next to Janie.

  Mildred came around the other side. “To what do we owe this pleasure? A friendly visit or did your nose lead you here?”

  Janie lathered a layer of yellow spread on her muffin and cocked her head. “Mrs. Jacobs practically begged us to help her determine why anyone would leave a helpless newborn in an abandoned house where someone had been brutally murdered.”

  Mildred put her baked treat down and pouted. “Oh. That again.”

  Ethel waved her butter knife. “To be more accurate, Edwin only lived there. We established he was chopped up elsewhere, according to Bobby.”

  “Semantics.”

  Their friend, and Ethel’s temporary housemate, whimpered as she dabbed her quivering lips with her paper napkin. “I wonder where he is now?”

  “Edwin? Only God determines that.”

  “No. Bobby. I am not allowed a peep from him. Rules of witness protection.”

  Janie squeezed Mildred’s hand. “Your nephew agreed to the new identity to protect him from the killers. It’s for the best.”

  “And his only safe bet. He also plea bargained because he already possessed a criminal record. That probably made someone mad.” Ethel chomped down on her treat.

  Mildred slouched further into her chair.

  “Whatever, Ethel.” Janie huffed.

  “Ooohhh. I’m a horrible aunt. I failed my dear late sister. I tried to raise him right. Honestly, I did.” Mildred rushed out of the room boo-hooing.

  “Guess we shouldn’t have dredged this up again, Ethel.”

  Ethel shrugged. “She’s still raw. Things will get better when her new condo’s ready. She has the crying fits pretty often.”

  Janie heaved a deep breath. “Does this mean I get her muffin, too?”

  Ethel tossed a wadded napkin at her. “Janie. Really.”

  She caught it and threw it back. “I’m kidding. Sheesh.” Chomping on the last of her portion, Janie walked down the hall and tapped on Mildred’s bedroom door. A warbled “come in” filtered through the wood in response. She opened it slowly and tiptoed inside. Mildred perched on a side chair, her fingers working a tissue and her eyes red-rimmed.

  Janie cocked her hip onto the bed mattress. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive. It’s only that Ethel gets my last nerve sometimes.”

  Mildred wiped her eyelashes. “I know you two love to banter. That is not what upset me.” She blew her nose. “It’s Bobby. I do miss him. He’s my only living relative.”

  “There, there.” Janie understood. Bobby’s parents had died during his teenage years, and he’d become a troubled youth sucked into the wrong crowd. Mildred became his buoy in the storm of delinquency. “May we change the subject? I suspect this baby ended up in Edwin’s vacant property simply because it was that—unoccupied. What’s niggling at my brain is why. Did they learn the leasing agent had an appointment to show it yesterday morning?”

  “I have no idea, Janie. It’s been days since I went over there. You know that. I only went to collect my sweater and extra muffin tins. Oh, and some more foot powder. I didn’t think it right to use Ethel’s.” Mildred dropped her gaze to her lap. “Honestly, I don’t want to think about that poor baby or that place next door anymore.”

  Janie raised her eyebrow and coughed into her fist. Better steer the conversation to a new topic. “Any word on when another condo will come up?”

  With a residual sniffle, Mildred let out a long sigh. “Mrs. Jacobs says possibly by the first of June. The Witherfields are moving into their children’s guest house in Austin. I’m taking over their two-bedroom model.”

  “Oh, that is catty-cornered from mine. We’ll be neighbors.”

  “Exactly. I’d hoped to find some peace and quiet. Guess not, huh?” A brief grin upturned the corners of her mouth.

  “Oh pooh.” Janie stood and enveloped her friend in a hug.

  THREE

  Ethel eyed Janie weaving with her tray through the dining room crowd. She motioned her over.

  Janie plopped her evening meal down. “Where’s Mildred?”

  “Slurping soup at the condo. Says it’s all she’s hungry for. I’m worried about her. She’s not eating, and she cries at a drop of the hat, as you witnessed.”

  Janie shook some pepper over her chicken. “Well, she has been through a lot, Ethel. You’re a dear friend to let her bunk in with you.” She set the shaker down. “I imagine you’re correct, though. She will perk up when she moves into her own place away from the crime scene.”

  Ethel stabbed a few beets with her fork. “Hmm. She will be closer to us. I bet she will like it over where we are. I think the condos are actually better laid out than the garden homes.”

  “Well, she doesn’t need three bedrooms anyway. I mean, who comes to visit?”

  “True. Speaking of which? Did you talk to Blake about this baby thing?”

  “Left a message. Not sure if he is involved. More of a social worker thing than a police detective crime.”

  Betsy Ann edged in next to her friends. “Chicken Parmesan. My day just got better.” She cut into hers, savoring a bite. Then she blinked at both of them. “Did I interrupt something?”

  “We’re mulling over the events.”

  “Oh, you mean the annual spring bake sale? Are your muffins made?”

  Janie gave her the sweetest smile she could muster on an empty stomach. “No, Betsy Ann, the bathtub event.”

  Betsy Ann grasped her blouse. “Oh no. Who fell?”

  Ethel chuckled. “We’re talking about the baby.”

  “A baby fell?”

  Janie sighed. “No.”

  “I’m confused.”

  Janie edged her chair closer. “Recall the conversation at Bunco about the newborn the realtor found? The one we discussed in Mrs. Jacob’s office?”

  Betsy Ann’s mouth formed an “o”. “That bathtub event.”

  “Yes.” Her sharp answer caused several sterling heads at the next table to swivel in their direction.

  “OK, OK. You don’t have to yell.” Betsy Ann poked her breaded chicken breast with a pout. “I don’t understand why you’re obsessing about it, Janie. Really.”

  “I’m sorry. That makes two people I’ve upset today.” Janie pouted. “What is wrong with me?”

  Ethel set down her iced tea glass. “My diagnosis is you possess I-need-to-solve-a-mystery-itis. Once sleuthing gets in your system it’s hard to eradicate.”

  Janie’s eyes widened. “Brilliant deduction, my dear Dr. Ethel.”

  Ethel grinned as she caught Janie’s reference to Sherlock Holmes. “Thanks.”

  “So, who wants to help me find out who dropped off this wee thing into a vacant bathroom?” Janie rubbed her hands together.

  Ethel looked to Betsy Ann. “There’s no stopping her, you know.”

  Betsy Ann let out an elongated sigh. “I guess it is our civic duty, as you mentioned last night. I may regret this later, but, OK. Count me in.”

  ~*~

  Ethel accompanied Janie to the Centex Rural Realty office. They told the receptionist they had a 9:30 AM appointment with Ms. Oliver.

  Janie scanned the small office reception area. On one wall in clear plastic shadow-boxed frames were colored photos of the current “hot” listings. She wandered over to peer at them above her readers. “None of these show the price.”

  “Guess if you have to ask, you can’t afford it,” Ethel whispered in her ear as she sauntered up next to her.

  “Hmm.” Janie responded in an equally soft voice. “Makes me wonder why she shows condos and garden homes
in Sunset Acres. I mean none of us are wealthy, are we?”

  Ethel grunted. “Speak for yourself. Didn’t you know my papa was an oil baron and left me dripping in diamonds?”

  Janie spurted a raspberry of a giggle, which caused the receptionist to glance from her computer.

  A door creaked and high-heeled footsteps clicked down the hallway. A forty-something woman, unsuccessfully trying to appear twenty-something, entered. She wore a tight pencil skirt in red, white, and gray stripes combined with a white-on-white patterned stretchy blouse that clung to her beginning-to-sag figure. Crimson baubles hung from her ears and, though she now stood still, they continued to wiggle ever so slightly in residual momentum of her hip-swaying stride. It reminded Janie of those stringed-into-a-row metal balls that constantly knock into each other in perpetual motion. A necklace of cascading silver, black, and ruby beads looped around her neck. A matching bracelet slid down her wrist as she extended her long, cardinal-painted nails in greeting. “I’m Janice Louise Oliver. Which home can I help you move into today?”

  Very slick. Janie offered a sugary smile and took the woman’s hand, careful not to be jabbed by one of her claws. “My name is Janie Manson and this is my friend, Ethel MacDaniels. We live in Sunset Acres. Mildred, a close pal of ours, lived next door to Edwin Newman at 126 Solar Boulevard, until, well... “

  The woman bobbed her head. “Yes. I am aware of the incidence surrounding the vacancy. We will be listing Mrs. Fletcher’s garden home next, as soon as she moves into the Witherfield’s condo.”

  “Oh, of course.” Janie shifted her weight to her other foot. “Mildred is temporarily staying with Ethel, as you are obviously aware. She is still pretty perturbed about the whole baby-in-the-bathtub thing.”

  Janice Louise sputtered a nervous laugh. “Me, too. In my sixteen-year career in real estate, I’ve witnessed some bizarre things. But that took the cake.”

  Janie plastered on her most sympathetic expression. “Whatever did you do?”

  She motioned them into her office. Decorated in floral pastels with spun butter-colored walls, it resembled an English garden on a spring day. Quite different than what Janie imagined, given the realtor’s attire. Janie almost expected her to ring for tea and scones. Two white wicker chairs with chintz cushions perched at an angle in front of her antique white desk. Ethel eased her bottom into one. Janie waited to make sure it didn’t strain or collapse. Once her petite cohort remained seated and still, she slid into the other. The weaving groaned in response, but held steady.

  The realtor slipped into her executive seat with a white mesh back and pale blue upholstered arms and cushion.

  “That is quite an amazing chair. Not your typical office black, eh?”

  Janice Louise ran her palms down the sides. “Yes. I special ordered it. Now, where were we? Ah, yes. The baby. So odd.”

  “To discover a newborn hollering in a vacant bathroom? I can only imagine.” Janie nodded to Ethel who gave her a quick eyebrow raise.

  Janice Louise leaned forward over her desk and dashed her gaze to the open doorway before returning it to her guests. Her voice took on a more hushed quality. “Yes, but even more so, it lying there, squirming and crying, stark naked, wrapped in a plastic bag from the Get ̓em and Go down the way.”

  “What? You mean...”

  “Yep. No diaper, onesie, or even a baby blanket. Nada. Trust me, not pleasant.” She waved her hand in front of her nose.

  Ethel scrunched hers. “Oh my.”

  Janie tilted her head. “Why did you fetch Mildred?”

  She shook her head. “I heard a noise next door and for a moment thought it might be the people who’d abandoned her dashing away. So I rushed outside as Mrs. Fletcher entered her house.” She paused for them to respond with head nods. “I guess I just panicked. Maybe I wanted a witness. I’m not sure.”

  Ethel and Betsy Ann glanced at each other.

  Janice Louise retrieved a tissue from a holder resembling a white picket fence with vine flowers painted up the sides. “I’m sorry if I unduly upset her. Quite a harrowing discovery first thing in the morning.”

  Ethel motioned they should leave.

  Janie responded with an ever-so-slight chin dip. “Well, we appreciate your time. You wouldn’t happen to remember the Children’s Protective Service worker who collected the baby, do you?”

  The realtor closed her eyes as if trying to visualize the scene. “As I recall, the emergency tech called her Maria or Marian.”

  Ethel’s brow knitted. “The infant?”

  Janie sighed. “No, Ethel. She means the CPS lady, right?”

  “Right. Though, from what I understand, the newborn was also a girl.”

  “Ah.”

  The agent opened her eyelids again. “I do recall the technician stating she, the baby girl, would be transported to the children’s hospital for an examination and they’d probably keep her in observation a few days while they ran tests.”

  Janie felt her face light from within. She rose and extended her hand. “Thank you very, very much. We greatly appreciate you taking time out of your hectic day to speak with us.”

  “Oh, anytime. Here.” She handed them each a business card from the clear holder on her desk. “Call me if you think of any more questions. And, if one of your friends is looking for a garden home, well...”

  They both gave her a simultaneous head bob and then rose to leave.

  Janice Louise let out a short gasp. “Oh gracious. How gauche of me. I never offered you tea.”

  Janie swiveled on her orthopedic heel as she stifled a giggle. “That’s OK. Next time.”

  ~*~

  Betsy Ann caught up with them as they drove into Janie’s designated carport. “Well?”

  Ethel shrugged. “She wasn’t much help.”

  “Au contraire. She gave us some very good leads.”

  Ethel closed the passenger door. “If you say so.” She stomped off down the alley toward her domain.

  Janie narrowed her eyebrows and watched her friend walk away. “What’s gotten into her?” Then she swished to face Betsy Ann. “And you’re still standing here because?”

  She shifted her weight as she crossed her arms. “Because you promised to take me to the outlet store where you found those throw pillows you think would match my sofa.”

  “Right.” She dug her keys out of her purse again. “Let’s go.”

  “You were bordering on being rude to Ethel and now to me.” Betsy Ann stomped to the passenger side of the car.

  “Excuse me?” Janie double clicked the key-less lock button on her key chain and scrunched her brow. Both opened their doors with a jerk and entered the vehicle. As Janie buckled her seat-belt, she eyed Betsy Ann who sat with her arms in a pretzel, staring out the side window.

  “OK. What gives? You’ve acted like you ate a sour pickle since Bunco.”

  “Kettle calling the pot black.” Betsy Ann exhaled a long, deep sigh. “Why do you think it’s your mission to ‘save the world’ all the time?” She clipped the air with her fingers to mime quotation marks.

  Janie’s heart plummeted to her stomach. “Don’t you want to find out...?”

  “Honestly, no. I do not.” She swallowed hard and returned her face to the window. “I never did. I felt pressured in the dining hall, that’s all.” She glared at Janie. “I hate it when you automatically suck me and Ethel into your half-baked schemes. There, I’ve said it.”

  Janie gripped the steering wheel and blinked back tears. “I had no idea...”

  “That is precisely the problem.”

  Janie gulped. Why did everyone become so testy around her lately? She bit her lower lip.

  A thick, velvet stage curtain of silence draped between the sedan’s two bucket seats. Then Janie mumbled an apology. “Sorry if I bit your head off.”

  Betsy Ann harrumphed and glanced in Janie’s direction for a half second before focusing once more on whatever fascinated her beyond the carport pole.

  A
fter a few minutes of icy silence, Janie decided to clear the air before she started the engine. Otherwise, the drive would border on unbearable. “So, why did you say you’d help me?”

  “Because I’m your friend, and I hate to see you make a fool of yourself.”

  “A what?” Janie’s shrill voice bounced off the upholstered dashboard.

  “You heard me.”

  “Arggh.” Janie turned the ignition key and shoved the gear into reverse. She pressed her foot as hard as she could on the accelerator and spun the vehicle to a forward position, slamming her friend into the door handle despite her shoulder restraint.

  Icy darts danced between their faces and a jagged hush hovered all the way to the store, which had sold out of the pillows, and then back to Sunset Acres. When Janie pulled to Betsy Ann’s curb, her passenger exited without a word and slammed the car door.

  Janie watched her stomp to her stoop and fumble with the lock.

  With gritted teeth, Janie rolled down the window and yelled, “Fine. I’ll proceed on my own. Unless, of course, Ethel wishes to join me. She possesses a nose for crime.”

  Betsy Ann called back. “If it isn’t all bent out of shape, thanks to the way you treated her.” She entered her condo and whammed the door shut.

  Janie drove down the alley to her place, continuing the conversation with herself. “There is something nasty going on in our community and I’m going to uncover it whether Ms. Hoity-Toity approves or not.”

  She swallowed the hurt caused by the harsh words which passed between them. No way would she admit it out loud, but she already missed her sweet, ditzy soul mate.

  FOUR

  Janie stewed all afternoon. She scrubbed her bathtub and then started on the tile floor. She tackled the grout with a toothbrush then cleaned the baseboards until her hands cramped and her knuckles resembled a lobster. She rocked back onto her haunches and blew a long lungful of air out her mouth. Her hand swept the sweaty locks from her brow as pride etched her lips. The room glistened in the afternoon sun streaming through the frosted window. A whiff of bleach and lemon-pine tickled her nose.