Baby Bunco Page 7

Janie motioned with her eyebrows and Betsy Ann responded by holding out her hands. Amber bent toward her to transfer the squirming, bright-eyed girl.

  “Ah. She is so alert. Look at that.” Betsy Ann gently swayed the infant.

  Amber sat across from her in one of the side chairs, next to Janie. “She is quite a good baby. Hardly ever fusses. The family who adopts her will be quite blessed.”

  Janie swiveled her torso to face the foster parent. “I can’t imagine ever doing this. Isn’t it hard to let them go?”

  Amber gave her a wise smirk. “Well, all parents must let their kids go sometime. This poor dear’s mommy already did and whoever raises her will as well one day.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing a small pearl stud. “Jacob and I figure this is our calling. We can’t have any of our own, so we can at least love them right from the start. The first few months are so important.”

  Betsy Ann slumped toward the tiny face and made baby-talk noises. Janie mopped her brow with her hankie.

  Their hostess stood. “It’s a hot day already. May I bring you ladies some iced tea?”

  “Oh, that would be lovely.” Janie gave her a sweet old lady eyelash bat.

  Amber nodded and left the room.

  As soon as the footsteps faded, Janie hissed to Betsy Ann, “Quick. Grab the kit.”

  Betsy Ann appeared hesitant.

  “Oh, bother. You keep holding her, and I’ll do it.” Janie rose and scooted next to them. She opened the cellophane and retrieved the wand. With one finger, she hooked the infant’s cheek and dabbed the cotton end into her mouth.

  The baby wailed. Betsy raised it to her shoulder and bounced it.

  Janie slipped the swab into the plastic evidence sack and shoved it into her clutch as Amber dashed into the room, a sweating pitcher of tea in her hand. “Is everything all right?”

  “A little gas is my guess.” Betsy Ann stood and jiggled the sniveling infant. “See. She’s perfectly fine now.”

  “I think I frightened her when I sat down abruptly. I seem to have that effect on infants. Even my own grandkids whined when they saw me, until they got used to my face.” She gave Amber a quick grin.

  Amber’s face softened. “Oh well. I’m sure it’s nothing to be concerned about.” She set the pitcher on the glass covered coffee table. “Be right back with the glasses and some shortbread cookies.”

  The two watched the ice cubes clink and settle. Then, when she determined Amber to be out of earshot, Betsy Ann swung toward her cohort. “Oh, why did I let you talk me into this?”

  Janie crossed her legs. “You already asked that when we walked to the door. I can’t answer it for you. Besides, you didn’t have to come, you know.”

  She sat back down on the sofa and laid the infant on her knees. “Don’t get huffy. I’m a sucker for babies, Janie. You know that.”

  Janie jutted her chin. “Which is why I’m glad you agreed to accompany me on this mission.”

  Betsy Ann’s face drooped. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it when she heard Amber’s footfall.

  The young woman entered with a tray containing a plate of windmill shaped cookies and three glasses. She tilted the pitcher toward the one closest to Janie. “Here we are. Little Aisha’s first tea party.”

  “Thank you. Just what my whistle needed.” Janie took one of the glasses tucked in a paper napkin. “Is that what you’ve decided to call her? What an unusual and lovely name.”

  Amber poured into the other two tumblers. “Well, from what we understand she is Hindi so we decided to give her a name in her native tongue.”

  Janie’s left eyebrow arched as she took a sip. She glanced at Betsy Ann with a smirk. “Really? What does it mean?”

  She sat to face them. “Joe looked it up. It means alive and well. Apropos, don’t you think?”

  “Absolutely.” Janie set her glass down. “Thank you, Amber.”

  For the next fifteen minutes, the threesome chatted. Janie kept eyeing her handbag and twitching her foot. Betsy Ann sent a brief, sharp signal to Janie with her eyes narrowed and then lifted her gaze to her host and suggested they should be leaving. “We play Bunco at seven, and I promised Janie I’d help her set up the tables and then chop fruit for a summer salad.”

  She stood, handed the infant back to its caregiver, and snatched one more shortbread cookie before they left.

  FOURTEEN

  “Betsy Ann, you’re chopping so hard, the table top is quivering. It’ll make my handwriting all squirrely on this questionnaire.”

  “Why did we collect her DNA anyway? I still don’t understand.”

  She smoothed the flap down, sealing the adhesive before answering. “Well, if the baby’s comes back stating she’s definitely Hindi, then we can assume the girl at the convenience store could be her mother. It may also give us an idea of her father’s lineage. Then we can hand it over to Blake, who can give it to the coroner to compare with the slain woman’s DNA, which they had to collect in order to try and identity her.”

  “What good would that do?”

  Janie lifted both shoulders to her ears. “It might help Blake narrow down possible suspects in her murder.”

  Betsy Ann frowned. “I don’t see how.”

  “Look. We didn’t harm Aisha in the least. The results may turn out to be vital. If there’s a match, well...”

  “I guess that makes sense.” She glanced at the wall clock. “Oh my. I’ve gotta go. I’m meeting George for a movie. The documentary about the flight path of Monarchs is playing at the university, and he gets half-off tickets.”

  “For goodness sakes. Don’t let me keep you. See you tonight at Bunco.”

  “Unless,” she sang-sung as she gathered her purse, “we decide to dine afterwards.”

  “And miss Bunco?”

  “It’s only one Thursday night out of fifty-two. Ta-ta.”

  She closed the door, leaving Janie with a bowlful of diced fruit salad. She turned the envelope over to write the address. “One Thursday night my foot.” Janie licked the flap and put three stamps on it, just in case.

  ~*~

  Something tickled Janie’s brain like a follicle of hair that curls into your ear. She couldn’t figure out what question was taking shape in the depths of her mind. So, she decided to dust her china cabinet. She reached under the sink for the cloth and polish. Ow. Her back muscles rebelled. She shook it off and proceeded to ready her house for the weekly game. Cleaners in hand, she continued in the living room and worked her way to the back of the condo. That way if she petered out, at least the more public areas of her abode would sparkle.

  Physical labor brightened her mood. She hummed as she cleaned house and prepared for her Bunco friends. After an hour, a sharp pain darted from her lower middle back into her hip. She limped to the easy chair with a freezer baggie of ice cubes pressed to her sciatic nerve. Mrs. Fluffy hopped onto her lap and began to move her paws as if she kneaded sourdough bread.

  Janie ran her hand along the cat’s fur. “I wonder how much Melody pays her maid, Mrs. Fluffy. That one time she came while my foot healed, she did an exceptional job.” She re-positioned her spine. “Maybe just once a month to do the heavy cleaning. It’s not that I’m getting old and feeble. After half a century of scrubbing, mopping, and vacuuming, my lower back deserves a rest, right?”

  Mrs. Fluffy jumped off and proceeded to take her late afternoon bath in the sunbeam.

  ~*~

  “No way!” Janie groused.

  Babs blushed. She’d rolled three fours on her first turn and dinged the bell, ending the current round of Bunco in fifteen seconds. She tucked her chin into her blouse. “I never have that sort of luck.”

  Grumbles ensued as the ladies shuffled to the next table to find their pecking order.

  “New rule. Babs doesn’t take a turn for the first three minutes.”

  Everyone cackled.

  Ethel cocked her head to one side. “How often does it happens? Odds must be astronomical. Migh
t be something to inquire about on the social media sites.”

  “Speaking of,” Eleanor Franks, one of the newer ones to join the Bunco Biddies, chimed in. “My sister-in-law private messaged me an article about people from India or someplace stealing the cyber identities of teenagers and sneaking into the country. Many are entering through Texas airports.”

  “You don’t say? Why?” Janie leaned to the side to catch the conversation at the second table.

  “Will you roll? We’re on fives.” Annie Schmidt wiggled nervously in her seat and handed Janie the dice.

  Janie motioned to Eleanor. “I want to hear more about that afterwards, OK?” She shook the three dice in her fist and tossed them onto the green felt cover. Two fives and a three. Ticking down two, she rolled again and only got one five, a two, and a four. One more point added to her score. Next, she got a four, a two, and a six. Her round ended since she didn’t role any fives. “Your turn.” She handed off to Roseanne.

  Roseanne jostled the dice and blew on them. She landed three ones, known as a Baby Bunco since it wasn’t a Bunco of fives, the round they were on. It was worth five points instead of twenty-one. Everyone clapped and continued the game. The first at the lead table to roll three of the same number as the round they were on called out Bunco, received the big score, and dinged the bell. Six minutes later, Mildred did. Her squeal set the dogs barking one block over.

  Ethel teetered closer to Janie’s ear. “Glad to see her perking up. Heard her condo will be ready as soon as the cleaning crew comes in tomorrow.”

  “Hmm. I wonder if Mrs. Jacobs hired them.” Janie pressed her hand to her lower back. “I could sure use a bit of help now and then with my place.”

  Several ladies responded, telling Janie her condo always looked pristine.

  “I know. But I do own a cat. Another good rug shampooing might be warranted, but I want someone bonded and reliable, you understand.”

  Babs spoke up. “I hear you there. My niece’s neighbor hired a crew to come in and they robbed them blind.”

  Mildred raised her voice over the others. “Mrs. Jacobs told me she contracts Maid to Order to ready all of the homes for sale or lease in Sunset Acres. She’s employed them for years and thoroughly trusts them. I’ve used them once or twice as well. Didn’t you, too, Janie?”

  She nodded. “Melody has for years. The lady she sent to spruce up my place while I was laid up with my injured ankle came from there. I liked her. Professional and friendly. Did a thorough job.”

  “Oh yes.” Roseanne agreed. “They drive the yellow vans with a feather duster painted on it, right? I’ve seen them around often. They come equipped with those long hoses and generators to steam clean the carpets and drapes as well.”

  Janie’s lips crept into a grin. Had Edwin’s garden home already been prepared for showings when Ms. Oliver arrived? Could one of the cleaning crew’s employees dropped off the baby?

  She motioned Mildred to the side after the last round of Bunco as people ate and milled around chatting. “I want you to close your eyes and picture the day you entered Edwin’s home with the leasing agent. What did you notice first?”

  “It lay empty?”

  “Yes, of course. Did it look as if it had been cleaned?”

  Mildred pulled out a chair and sat. “Well, now that you mention it. I do recall a slight whiff of bleach in that bathroom and the carpet had those long triangles in it, you know, from those steam cleaners.”

  “So it would be safe to surmise a cleaning crew had been in there?”

  “Well, yes. In fact, I think we were the first to traipse inside. I mean, I certainly didn’t see many footprints.”

  Janie slapped her thigh. “Thanks, Mildred. You have been a great help.”

  Her voice quivered. “Oh, OK.”

  Janie squeezed her friend’s arm and walked away. Tomorrow she and Betsy Ann were scheduled to assist Mrs. Jacobs in the office. Perhaps she could find out if the management ordered the cleaning service or had Marjorie Spellman, Edwin’s niece and only living relative, contracted with someone?

  Yep, she definitely had to determine if Maid to Order had been hired to clean Edwin’s place. Melody’s regular had a Hispanic background. Did they hire other foreign workers by any chance? Like Pakistani or Hindi? If so, then the edges of this puzzle may begin to fit.

  ~*~

  The next morning Betsy Ann kept yawning as the threesome power walked. “Sorry. Stayed out way too late.”

  “George?”

  “Yes, Ethel. We went out to dinner at this fancy restaurant in an old mansion in South Austin. He wanted to celebrate our one month anniversary of dating. Isn’t that sweet?”

  “Charming. No wonder you no-showed at Bunco. Meal good?”

  She laughed. “It certainly didn’t qualify as fast food. Six courses and each took about a half hour before the waiters served it. Quiet piano music. Leisurely dining. I felt like a queen.” A dreamy grin crossed her face.

  Janie rolled her eyes. “How late did you stay out?”

  “We finished about nine-ish I guess. Afterwards, we took a stroll along the river trails. Well-lit and perfectly safe. Benches every quarter mile. With the almost-full moon glistening on the water...” She sighed as her hand waved in front. “We talked for a good two hours or more. The clock bonged midnight as I walked in the door.” She did a twirl, her arms out. “Like Cinderella.”

  Ethel laughed. “She’s in love all right.”

  Janie laid her hand on Betsy Ann’s shoulder. “If you’d prefer to nap this afternoon instead of working at the office, I’d understand.”

  “You wouldn’t mind? I suspect I’ll wilt like yesterday’s salad by two.”

  Ethel stopped and placed her hands on her hips. “Why, Janie. How sweet of you to suggest it.”

  Janie swatted the thought away. “No big deal. It’ll give me time to casually pump Mrs. Jacobs for info without raising eyebrows.”

  Her friends laughed. Ethel clicked her tongue. “I knew you had an ulterior motive.”

  FIFTEEN

  What a stroke of luck. Mrs. Jacobs asked Janie to sort the files in her office, not the un-air conditioned storeroom down the hall. “I want you to verify every resident’s file contains this paper, and that it’s signed and dated.”

  She held up a form with an official looking state logo in the upper left-hand corner. “It’s about bedbugs. Regulations became stricter a few years back and perhaps we didn’t inform everyone. We certainly don’t want the health board to find us slacking.”

  “Oh, of course not. In fact, I am not sure I recall signing this.” Janie took the paper from her hand. “But then again, I’ve been here for over five years.”

  Mrs. Jacobs swiveled in her executive chair and pushed a deep breath through her nose. “That’s what I feared. If you don’t find the document, write the name down. I might have to bang on doors.”

  “Will do. Before I begin, may I ask you something?”

  Mrs. Jacobs spread her hands. “Sure.”

  Janie perched on the edge of the chair in front of the manager’s expansive, paper-laden desk. “I think it’s time to deep clean my rugs and drapes. I had a company come before Easter, but they did a slap-hazard job and left a residue that attracts dirt. Is there someone you use that you trust?”

  “Absolutely. Maid to Order.” She opened her top drawer and rummaged through it. “Ah, here’s one of their business cards. I find them to be reliable and thorough. I call on them to sanitize all the condos, apartments, and garden homes before they change tenants. One girl I particularly like. A girl from India perhaps? Always has one of those dots on her brow. Ra’naa is her name, I think. ”

  “Oh yes. Melody uses this company. She sent a maid to help me when I injured my ankle. Her name was Miranda, but Melody told me she’s no longer with them.”

  “Well, I’m sure there’s a turn-over all the time. Cleaning homes is hard work and not very glamorous.”

  Janie agreed. She hoped this Hi
ndi named Ra’naa still worked there, unless… “So, this company spruced up Edwin’s place?”

  “Yes. Twice. Once before he moved in and then a week or so later after...” She paused and cast her eyes to her hands. Then she returned them to Janie’s face. “Why?”

  “Oh, I think I recall someone, perhaps the leasing agent, saying how pleasant it smelled. Fresh and clean.”

  “Hmm. Yes. They do an excellent job.” She closed her drawer and clasped her hands. Janie understood that to mean the conversation ended and her work should begin.

  “Thank you. I’ll start on the files now.”

  The property manager gave her a quick nod and proceeded to shuffle through a teetering stack of forms on her desk.

  ~*~

  Even though the clock showed four in the afternoon on a Friday, Janie took the chance someone at Maid to Order would answer the phone. She dialed the number as soon as she returned home. On the third ring, a pleasant voice replied and gave her the price, which seemed surprisingly reasonable.

  “We’re offering our spring cleaning for carpets and drapes special through the end of May. Only $79.99 for up to four rooms. When would you like us to come out?”

  “Monday, unless of course there’s an opening tomorrow.”

  “I’m afraid not, but we could come out after lunch on Monday. We offer a new steam cleansing that allows you to walk on your carpet within fifteen minutes.”

  “Wow. But I have wood floors. Does the same apply to drapes and area rugs? “

  “Are any of them antique, oriental, or wool? Those need special treatment. We ship those to a company in San Antonio. Could take two weeks.”

  “No, oriental in style, but synthetic and modern.”

  “OK. I’ll jot that down.”

  “Oh, one more question.” Janie rubbed her back. “Will your workers move all the furniture?”

  “Yes, we provide a crew of three to four men. Don’t worry about boxing up anything. They’ll handle it all. Be assured. We are bonded in case of breakage. But please set your mind at ease. We haven’t had a claim in seven years.”

  “OK. Thank you. How long will they be here?”