1 Odds and Ends (7 page)

“Which night was this?”

She named the date, and Peter added it to his notes.

“Was that the night he died, Peter?” Margot asked.

Peter smiled at her. “Margot, you’re an observer. Please observe quietly.”

“Oh,” she grumbled.

“I could scratch him,”
Odds suggested with a paw raised to Peter’s pants leg.

“Odds, behave.” She picked him up, and he thumped his tail softly against her side over and over.

“She’s not lying now,”
Odds said.
“She’s stupid, but she’s innocent.”

Margot put her hand over the cat’s mouth, and both of the humans looked at her. She shrugged, and Peter dismissed Debra to call his next witness. One after another they came to talk to the detective. No one shared anything as interesting as Debra’s story, to Margot’s utter dissatisfaction.

At last the time came for Peter to speak with Jimmy. Only Jimmy wasn’t there. He wasn’t in Zabrina’s apartment, and he wasn’t answering his phone. With a grim expression, Peter made a call to the police station. “Find Jimmy Barber and bring him in.”

Chapter Twelve

Margot moaned and tried moving her head to breathe easier. Nothing she did worked. One side of her nose was clogged. Well, she had another nostril. She drifted off, but the blockage moved to the other side. A shake, and she breathed fine on both sides. Then something touched her lips, and she squealed.

Opening her eyes in the darkened room, Margot found two green ones blinking at her. “Was that you, Odds? What is the matter with you?”

“I’m scared of the dark.”

“You are not!” She scooted his bum over the side of the bed, and heavy paws for such a tiny animal thumped the floor. “Go catch mice.”

“I’m telling you, the boogie man is in the hallway.”

“Honestly, you know I need silence when I sleep. You—”

Something or someone truly did make a sound in the hall. She heard it clear as day. Who would be out there, and what were they doing that she heard them all the way in her bedroom?

Then she realized why she heard. Whoever it was, was in the apartment next to hers. Margot pushed her feet into her slippers and tiptoed to the wall separating her place and the one next door. She had thought no one lived there.

Scratches and something being dragged reached her, and her heart thumped in her chest. In the last few days of living here, her heart had never pounded so often. She began to wonder if it was safe to live here. If not a knife than a heart attack might take her to heaven.

“I’m going to try to get a look at whoever it is,” she whispered. “Oh, dear, where’s a weapon when I need one?”

Lou had owned a gun collection, which he kept locked in a case in the study. She had thought she might sell his precious guns and spend the money. However, she had been informed that virtually every piece in the house was sold and accounted for. If she dared try to remove anything that was not on the solicitor’s list, she would be arrested.

“Of all the humiliating…” Her list had been short. Well, more than could fit in her current apartment, but still woefully lacking.

Margot stopped by the bathroom, and Odds yowled.
“At a time like this?”

“I’m not using it,” she snapped. “Just wait there.”

She left the cat in the hallway and returned from the bathroom seconds later. He stared up at her.
“What’s that?”

Margot felt her face burn and was glad it was dark in the apartment. Then she recalled Odds could see as clear as day. She squared her shoulders and started for the front door again. At least she had remembered to lock it.

“Are you really taking a plunger?”
he had to ask.

“Be quiet before I plunge you!”

“Where did you even get it?”

Margot stopped creeping and stood straight, losing her patience. Her back ached anyway, and she was glad to stretch it out. This midnight sneaking about didn’t agree with her. “If you must know, I added it to my list for Kenny. He brought it back for me.”

“Why?”

She grumbled. “Because I wanted to practice
using
it. That’s why. Now be quiet. No more questions.”

Margot made it to the front door and pressed her ear to the panels. No sounds reached her. She sucked in a breath, raised her weapon, and threw the first lock. The chain rattled too much, and she winced. Then she undid the next and the next. Three in all, the chain, the deadbolt, and the doorknob lock. Surely, that was overkill. She gulped thinking another word might have been better.

When she stepped into the hallway to find it empty, Margot grew braver. Her heart was still pumping at an accelerated rate, but she determined she could do this. Something brushed her leg, and she almost screamed until she remembered Odds. The darn cat did that on purpose.

Odds ran ahead and stopped at the door next to hers. Since his little head disappeared, she assumed the door lay open. Fear that any second someone would come out made her freeze, but Odds turned to look at her as if to taunt, “Chicken?”

She didn’t hear the word in her head, but she knew he was thinking it. Other people had ordinary pets. Her first ever had to be this bad little scamp.

Margot reached the door and paused to breathe deep a few more times. Then slowly, she leaned around the doorframe. All feeling left her legs, and she started to sink toward the floor.

Jimmy was back. The police had not found him after he disappeared, and here he was in the empty apartment with something on the floor that looked suspiciously like a body! Margot must have made a sound because Jimmy froze, his back to her. She was still sliding and unable to catch herself.

Odds, who was under her, took exception to her landing on him, and he swiped a claw toward her chin. Margot refused to receive another wound from him and jerked away. She tumbled backward and rolled over to land on her nose. She moaned.

“Who’s out there?” Jimmy called.

Oh no, he was going to catch her. She struggled to her knees, sharply aware of the creaking in the left and the twinge in the right. Odds let out a yowl and jetted away from her straight into the empty apartment where Jimmy was.

“You stupid cat,” he roared, and from the thumping, she assumed he chased Odds around the room.

Margot pushed up to her feet and held onto the wall until she straightened. She started to hurry into her apartment but stopped. She couldn’t leave Odds after he had distracted Jimmy for her.

When she turned back, she noticed the plunger on the floor where she had dropped it. She scooped it up as quickly as she could and ran shouting into the apartment while waving the plunger in the air.

On some level of comprehension, she realized she heard feet on the stairs down the hall. Also, waving her arm was a sure method to wear herself out. Long before she reached Jimmy, Margot puffed out of breath. Her arms came down, and by some miracle, the rubber end of the plunger popped Jimmy on the head as he ran.

“Ouch! Are you nuts, lady?” He turned toward her, hands outstretched, and she toppled backward. Her feet hit against something hard, and she started to tumble. Jimmy grabbed for her wrist and captured it. “Look out.”

Margot screamed. Odds landed on Jimmy’s head and swiped with his paw. Jimmy yelped. He grabbed at Odds but missed.

“Leave Odds alone, and let me go, you murderer,” Margot shouted, more to startle him into doing what she asked than anything else. She had better sense than to provoke a killer. Well, in hindsight, after she had hit him with a plunger.
That
could be labeled as inciting him.

“Freeze,” said a deep voice from the doorway.

Jimmy stopped fighting to get Odds off his head, and he released Margot. She scrambled away as quickly as her trembling legs would take her. When she saw that it was Peter standing in the entrance, she headed for him.

“Odds, come away before he hurts you,” she called over her shoulder.

The silly cat darted from Jimmy’s hair, leaving behind a thin stream of blood on his forehead. Margot weakened even more at the sight, and several pairs of hands held her up. She looked around to find more of the neighbors crowded in the hall, trying to see into the apartment.

“What’s going on here, Jimmy?” Peter demanded.

Before Jimmy could answer, Margot pointed to the thing on the floor. “He’s got a body there. He killed someone else.”

Several women screamed in alarm.

“Quiet,” Peter ordered. “All of you go back to your apartments. This is police business.”

No one moved.

“We have a right to know what’s happening in our building,” Nancy said primly if a bit shakily. “If he’s killed another of our friends—”

“I didn’t kill nobody,” Jimmy growled.

“Well, what’s that?” Greg, who had just joined the crowd, demanded. Margot had no more fight in her to say a word. She hung to consciousness by sheer will—and wanting to know what happened.

“It’s a body bag.” Debra screamed, and the noise level rocketed high again.

Margot tensed when Peter reached for his gun.

“Wait, please,” Jimmy pleaded with his hands up in surrender. “It’s not a body. Yeah, it’s a bag people usually use to put bodies in, but that’s not what’s in there. I promise.”

“Open it,” Peter snapped.

Jimmy hopped to obey the command, and the zipper stuck on the track. He gave it a good jerk, and something shifted inside the black vinyl pouch. A wave of horror-filled gasps passed over the crowd.

“Hang on. Almost got it,” Jimmy said. Margot hoped he didn’t get it. She put her hands up to her eyes intending to block out any unsavory views, but she couldn’t help peeking through her fingers.

The zipper popped and whirred along the track, and then the bag opened. What spilled from within wasn’t remains. Rather it was… “Spaghetti?”

“Not just any spaghetti,” Nancy butted in. “I recognize that brand. They sell it down at the dollar store.”

“And those cookies,” Greg added, “and the pancakes.”

Margot took in the strange sight of a body bag full of what looked like cheap items. All of the packaging was one or at the most two colors. A few boxes were crushed, and someone had taped a bag of cookies closed. A hole had reopened, and a cookie fell out. Odds went to investigate.

“Odds, leave that alone,” she said. “It’s creepy to eat from a body bag.”

Peter removed his hand from his gun and walked over to stoop beside the bag. He picked up a box of spaghetti, studied it, and then tossed it aside before selecting something else. “What did you plan to do with this?”

Jimmy nabbed the cookie from Odds and stuffed it into the bag. “I don’t have to answer that.”

Peter eyed him, and Jimmy flushed.

“I got it all from my job at the mall, but I didn’t steal it!”

“No, because it’s all expired,” Peter said in disgust. “I’m guessing they asked you to toss it.”

“Yeah, but most of it’s still good.” A glint of excitement sparked in his eyes. “I figure I can sell everything for a quarter of what the store was selling it for and make money that way. And before you say anything, it wasn’t my idea to use the bag. My buddy said he had something big enough. I never thought it was this.”

“Very poor taste, Jimmy.” Nancy sniffed.

“You can’t sell this.” Peter stood up. “Dump it.”

“But I can—”

“Go to jail now or later when you try to sell it.”

Jimmy thrust the cookies with haphazard force into the bag. “Fine, but now you know I didn’t kill Coley. I was in the basement because that’s where I had this stuff hidden. Then after Coley was found, it was creepy to leave it down there.”

“The basement was creepy but not the bag?”

Jimmy scowled. “I wanted to take it all to Zabrina’s apartment, but she said I couldn’t. So I broke in…I mean, I tried this un
locked
empty apartment instead.”

Peter ran a hand over his face and tugged Jimmy to his feet. “On second thought, I think you and I need to go to the station and have a nice long chat. Everyone else, clear out. No one touches this stuff. Got it?”

Everyone murmured consent, and Margot returned to her apartment. She went over in her head how Jimmy had grabbed her when she tripped backward. At the time, she had thought he attacked her. Now she realized he probably wanted to stop her from crushing his contraband.

She didn’t know anything about dollar stores, but maybe it was time to visit one.

Chapter Thirteen

“Bucket, check. Mop, check. Cleaning supplies, got them.” Margot studied the line of items as she stood in the bathroom of her new employer.

“You’re obsessed with bathrooms.”

She peered at Odds sitting atop the sink and balancing on the edge. “I’m not obsessed. I’m starting here to get it out of the way. It’s the worst of the tasks I received. I have to stick the dishes in the dishwasher, do the vacuuming, wipe off all the counters, and throw in the load of laundry that’s waiting.”

“Sounds like you’re spending the weekend in this dungeon.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Odds,” Margot scolded, but it sounded like that to her too. Especially since she wasn’t sure how the dishwasher or the washing machine worked. “She said I should be able to finish everything with time to spare in four hours.”

“Good luck.”
He jumped down from the sink.

“Where are you going?”

“I smell something interesting. Going to check it out.”

Margot grumbled. “I thought you were here to help. Otherwise I would have left you home.”

He moved delicately across the bedroom, but at her mention of helping, he paused and glanced back as if in disbelief. Pointed ears twitched, and he made a funny noise in his throat.

Margot shook her fist at Odds’ retreating back and turned to her task. Well, the bathroom wouldn’t clean itself. She was determined to do a great job and get a good reference she could take to the next employer and the next. Before she knew it, she would be turning done jobs people were so eager to hire her.

Picking up a green cylindrical container, Margot examined the side. “Yes! See, Odds, it has a picture of a sink here.”

Since Odds wasn’t in the room, she shrugged and pulled the sticky tab off the top of the can. Round holes such as would be found in a salt or peppershaker appeared, and she dumped the can upside down over the sink. Greenish white powder poured out, and she shook harder to cover the entire surface of the sink. After that, she looked around for something to wipe it, found a sponge, and set to work.

A half hour later, Margot was still trying to get all remnants of that darn green stuff to disappear. Every time she rinsed and wiped, the surface of the sink dried with residue. “Why?” she moaned. “I don’t understand.”

Frustrated, Margot moved on to the tub and the floor. She left the toilet for last and winced every time she had to dip the brush inside the bowl. In the process of this, she thought she saw something move from the corner of her eye. She looked for find Odds staring at her.

“Still at it?”

“Shush!”

“You know that’s not the toilet brush?”

“I know what a toilet brush looks like, Odds,” she grumbled. “I am not stupid, nor do I need you—” She stopped.

Of course she knew the difference between a toilet brush and a…
oh no!
Toilet brushes were never left in her bathrooms. Lou didn’t like such things around him, but Margot had seen them more than once. She had thought she would never mistake one because surely everyone used sponges in the shower to wash themselves.

She removed the brush she held from inside the toilet and looked at it. Long, curved handle,
pink
. “Oh, dear.”

The brush was ruined, and she couldn’t place it back in the shower without telling her employer. That would be wrong. However, if she told her, she might get mad and fire Margot without paying.

Margot put the toilet seat down and then sat on it thinking. Odds sat before her, cleaning himself. She shooed him. Even the way he groomed had her thinking he made fun of her. After deliberating five minutes, which she didn’t have to spare in the first place, Margot came to a decision. Finish the job as fast as she could and as well as she could. Then she would go to the store and buy a new brush, and offer it to her employer.

“After
she pays me,” she muttered.

Margot nodded approval of her plan and got to her feet. Muscles she had never used before cried out for mercy, and she winced.

“Easier said than done, I guess.” She gathered the rest of the products and made her way carefully out of the bathroom over the slippery floor. “One down, the rest to go. We can do this, Odds!”

“Rah,”
he muttered and fell into step behind her as she headed toward the kitchen.

* * * *

Margot’s steps were heavy as she clambered off the bus and stepped onto the pavement. She paused a second to heft the bag holding Odds higher on her shoulder. Already beads of sweat had begun to form on her lower back.

The bus pulled away from the curb in a cloud of black smoke, and Margot coughed waving her hand. Her bag slipped from her shoulder, and Odds leaped free of it.

“Well, come on, Odds. We’ve got two blocks until we reach the apartment.”

Odds stared at her without moving.

“Come on,” she insisted.

“Are you…?”

“I’m fine! She docked our pay, but at least we got some money. And after I got her the new brush too. She seemed to think it was my idea of a joke. Who, I ask you, would make a fool of themselves that way on purpose?”

Margot began walking, and Odds joined her.

“You.”

She reached the apartment building and paused with a hand on the railing. Then she made the slow climb to the door, used her key to get in, and then started down the hall toward the stairs.

“Is that you, Margot?” Nancy appeared at her door all smiles. Something delicious wafted in the air from her apartment, and Margot’s stomach growled.

“Good evening, Nancy. Yes, it’s me. I was working.” Margot blushed.

“Working?” Nancy said in disbelief. “At your age? Where is your retirement or your disability? Oh, excuse me. That’s none of my business. Would you like to come in? I’ve just finished cooking—”

“No, thank you!” Margot raised her chin. “I cooked earlier myself, and all I need to do is get it out of the refrigerator when I get upstairs.”

She stomped on down the hall and up the stairs to her place. In all honesty, she had been embarrassed and ashamed. The feelings kept resurfacing. She wanted to believe what she did was normal. After all, the people she saw every day had jobs, and they did menial tasks. Most, if not all, had never had servants in their lives. Margot didn’t feel she was better in the past or now, just blessed. If she was blessed then, what was she now?

In her kitchen, she pulled out a box from the cabinet and set it on the table. Then she took down a pot from another cabinet. Odds had said the pots probably didn’t go up there, but she told him it was her kitchen. At the time, her mood had been foul, so she had refused to listen to his suggestions.

Margot checked box instructions and added eight cups to the pot. When she was done, she lifted it from the sink and promptly dropped it on the floor. “Oh!”

Odds yelped from the first splash and jetted from the kitchen. Margot soaked up all the water with paper towels and tossed them in the trash. Then she started over again. The pot was still too heavy.

She burst out crying, covering her face with both hands and sobbed hard.

“Margot,” Nancy called.

Darn it.
Margot had forgotten to lock the door. She sniffed and scrubbed her face with another paper towel. By the time Nancy appeared in the doorway, Margot had pasted on a smile.

“Nancy, I apologize about earlier,” Margot began. “I’m just tired after a long day.”

Nancy waved her hands. “Pish posh, dear. I’m used to sharp words here and there. I do it myself. Wait, is this what you’re having for dinner?” She picked up the boxed macaroni, and Margot winced. She had a lot of it because she had found the mother load at the dollar store.

“Um, to start,” she said, giving a soft chuckle. “I also have some…um…”

Nancy’s expression darkened. “Margot!”

Margot started. “What?”

“Let me see your hands.”

Margot’s eyes widened, and she stuffed her hands behind her back. “Why? I told you I have to cook my dinner.”

Nancy marched over to her. Margot backed up until she bumped against the sink. Her neighbor held out a plump hand, palm up and fingers wiggling. Margot sighed and laid one of hers in Nancy’s.

Nancy gave a low cry of alarm. “Your hands are bruised and swollen. What
have
you been doing?”

Margot said nothing. She had never worked a day in her life, and she wouldn’t admit it to anyone. “Just working. It will go away soon.”

“Yes, with my salve and a couple of hot water bottles. Come on downstairs so I can get you fixed up. Then we’ll eat dinner and have a nice chat.”

“Nancy.”

“I’ve got pudding for dessert.”

“What kind?”

“Banana.”

Margot heaved a sigh. “Okay, let’s go.”