Phil Edwards - Retirement Can Be Murder

“That’s true — Melinda Ginelli might be more interesting for you.”

“I can be a paparazzo!”

Jake laughed as the Palmstead whizzed by beneath them. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad — writing about famous people instead of trying to make news. Then he looked over at Gary. He was frowning.

“I hope it turns out OK.”

“So do I.”

They continued down the highway. It was a beautiful day at least. The sun was high in the sky and there weren’t any clouds. He could let himself enjoy it this time. He opened the windows again, now that he and Gary were done talking. Gary’s hair frizzed out immediately. Jake’s blew back, then to the side, and then in front of his face. He grabbed the wheel with both hands and watched the road. The sleeves on the borrowed shirt crept up past his elbows.

He turned on the windshield wipers. It was all there. Palm trees to the side. Heat blasting in. And giant bugs on the windshield. The water shot out and the wipers started pushing the bugs away. They’d all be washed off by the water and the wind. As he did it, he thought about his story. All this was being wiped away. Abram Samuels, Sheryl Goldfein, the Saving Tomorrow Initiative. Charlotte Ward, too.

They descended the ramp and after a few minutes pulled up to his apartment building’s lot. It seemed calm. Empty. He still asked Gary to come with him. They crept up the apartment stairs, Jake moving slowly so Gary could follow with his cane. The sound of the cane tapping on the stairs echoed over and over as they climbed to the second floor.

First, Jake stepped past his apartment and stood in front of Kaylie’s. The blinds were gone. He realized he’d never seen inside. Of course, its current condition didn’t give him any clues. The walls were empty and only a bare bed and dresser remained. He pressed his face against the window while Gary waited.

“Jacob, she’s gone.”

“I know. Let’s go inside and get my stuff.”

As he started to turn away from Kaylie’s apartment, he saw something move. A flash of blue. He looked back. Someone was inside.

“Stay right there.”

He knocked on the apartment door and waited outside. He braced himself for another attack. He looked at Gary, who had his cane pointing toward the door. He should have prepared better. They waited for the door to open.

But he didn’t need to worry.

The door opened and a man walked forward. He was wearing a light blue jumpsuit, too tight at the chest and too big at the legs. He looked up at Jake and started speaking in broken English.

“Hello, I help you?”

“Wait.” Jake stepped back. “I’ve met you before.”

“I am sorry?”

“Your name is Javier, isn’t it?”

“Yes, hello. What is your name?”

“What are you doing here?”

Gary rested his cane and Jake got out his notebook.

“I’m cleaning the apartment. Another person come in soon.”

“But why are you here? I met you at Sunset Cove.”

“I work here too.”

“A second job?”

“This is same job. I am maintenance for three different buildings for Mr. Rothschild.”

Jake put the notebook away and pulled at Gary’s arm. He followed Javier and asked another question.

“So all these buildings — they’re all owned by Mr. Rothschild?”

“Of course.”

“Is he on the lease?”

“Different name for the company. But it is his.”

Javier smiled and went back inside. Jake’s lease was inside his apartment, but he wasn’t going to risk getting it. He led Gary down the stairs with one hand and put his other hand on the rail. He realized he was sweating.

“Jacob, why are we going? Don’t you want your clothing?”

“Let’s hurry.”

They got in the car and Jake locked the doors. He brushed his hair back. Gary’s shirt felt even tighter.

“Jacob, I don’t understand. We should get your materials.”

“Don’t you see? Rothschild owns all the buildings.”

“He is very rich.”

“Can you hand me the duck?”

Gary took the duck and passed it over to Jake. He pressed his hands against the base and slowly unscrewed the top. The duck’s head twisted around and around and the neck came unscrewed. He looked in the remaining rear view mirror. No one was coming. He rolled the papers out on his lap and Gary craned his neck.

“What are you looking for?”

“Just a second.”

He’d been looking at the wrong pages all along. The call log, the journal — they were irrelevant. He held the final piece in his hand, the thing that made it all make sense. Gary held his glasses and leaned in.

“Are you looking at the bridge schedule?”

He was. He read each line, every day and week meticulously recorded on the page. He turned to Gary and shook his head.

“I can’t believe I didn’t realize.”

“Realize what?”

“Charlotte Ward was right. It all makes sense.” He turned the key in the ignition, shifted gears, and pressed his foot on the gas. “It was all about bridge.”

“I’m very busy,” Sheryl Goldfein said. She unfurled an aqua tablecloth and placed it on the table. “I have an important bridge game tonight.”

Jake got out his notebook.

“Oh, we know you have a game tonight.”

They’d driven to Sunset Cove as quickly as they could. Jake explained what he thought had happened and Gary nodded in agreement, offering the occasional refinement to the theory. As they pulled in the lot, they made sure nobody was watching. Even Melissa. They had to be secretive — they were on enemy territory in Sunset Cove. They looked at every passing walker with suspicion. When they entered the common room to see Sheryl, she glared at them.

Gary walked down the handicapped ramp, holding the rail with one hand and letting his cane tap out on the hollow sounding floor. Sheryl finished placing the tablecloths and put her hands on her hips.

“Ech, what is it? What do you want?”

“This is very serious. We want to confirm what happened to Charlotte. We think we finally understand.”

She looked confused.

“Have you gained weight?”

Jake looked down at his shirt. At the chest, it looked like it was about to rip apart. The tails furled out, nearly splitting.

“No, I haven’t gained weight. Now Sheryl, we need to talk about this immediately.”

“It looks like you’ve gained weight.”

“It’s the shirt.”

“It’s a tight shirt.”

“It’s not mine. I borrowed it.”

Gary nodded.

“It’s not his!”

“Then whose is it?”

“It’s mine,” Gary said. “I let him borrow it.”

Sheryl leaned to the side and arched her eyebrows. She walked over to Gary and patted him on the shoulder.

“Now I understand. When you said you told me you had a ‘wife,’ I didn’t know this is what you meant. You know, you could have just told me. I’m a modern woman.”

“Jacob, what is she talking about?”

Sheryl laughed.

“Always traveling together, borrowing clothing. It finally makes sense. You two are cute together.”

Jake stepped to the side.

“Don’t listen to her. Sheryl, we’re not…that.”

Gary appeared outraged.

“Jacob, is she implying we own our own clothing company?”

“No, no. I’m afraid that’s not what she’s implying.”

They stood in a circle, silent. Then Jake coughed.

“We have real work to do.”

But before he could go on, he heard a sound come from the corner of the room.

“Are we alone here?”

“Well…”

Abram Samuels walked out from behind the corner.

“Abram? What are you doing here?”

“Hi Jake.” He tipped his red-brimmed hat. “I should have told you. Today, Sheryl and I finally…”