Cat in a Bag by Angela M. Sanders

Author:Angela M. Sanders
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Widow's Kiss

20

Gilda took the recliner in Grady’s room, but perched on its edge to avoid the hassle of getting out of it later. After the police had left, the Villa began to quiet. Warren had extracted Adele from under the bed, where she’d said she had an idea for bringing more light to Gilda’s eyes in the portrait. Father Vincent had brought out his high-end tools, in both American and metric measurements, and prepared to work in the carport until lunch. A few of the other residents had gathered in the cafeteria for a post-mortem of the drill.

Now, an hour later, Grady chuckled. “I wish I could have seen their faces when they found the one Mort started for Ruby.”

“The carving was good,” Gilda said. “It was the cushion that gave it away.”

“Let’s get down to business,” Grady said. He swiveled his chair toward the computer monitor and woke up the screen.

With his bald top and cotton candy-like hair stuck out at all angles, Grady looked like the Wizard of Oz.

He clicked a few keys. “Okay, what do we write?”

“I’m worried,” Gilda said.

“You want to tell him we’re worried? How’s that going to help things?”

“Ha ha. I mean I’m worried about the Villa. Someone tipped off the police about us. I think we’re being watched.”

“You don’t think someone was walking down the street, happened to catch sight of Ruby’s dog bed and said to himself, ‘Say, that’s the dog bed I saw on the news that belonged to that queen who got her head chopped off’?”

Gilda clasped her hands in her lap. “No, I don’t. For one thing, you can’t see the cafeteria window from the street. It’s too far across the parking lot.”

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Maybe we have a mole?”

She turned this over in her mind. All the Villa’s residents except Adele had lived here for years. Warren was okay. Cook was okay. Their cleaning service was well vetted. Heck, they cleaned the manor for the head of the syndicate. The Villa was small potatoes for them. Hardly worth selling out for. As for the Villa’s residents, everyone had a past to hide. For a resident to point a finger at another resident was mutually assured destruction.

“Nah. If someone here wanted to bring us down, it would have been done a long time ago. It’s got to be someone on the outside,” she said.

“Someone might have seen the dog bed come in,” Grady pointed out.

“It was in a trash bag.”

“Any visitors?”

“In the past day?” Gilda bit her lip. “Nope. Not even Mary Rose’s niece.”

“I hear she’s moving to Omaha,” Grady said.

“Hallelujah. I can’t stand her griping. I see why Mary Rose plays deaf.”

Gilda rose and pushed aside the curtains. Grady’s room had a view of the street. No one would be able to spy on the Villa from this side, not with the trees in the way.

“Are we going to write this ransom note, or not?” Grady asked. “My show’s on soon.”

Gilda, still thinking, turned to Grady.

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