The Babbling Brook Naked Poker Club - Book One (7 page)

“So that’s settled, then,” Myrtle said with
a satisfied smile.

“Wait. That’s only two in favor.”

“I assumed when Lillian said nothing that
she was in favor.” Myrtle gave Lill an arch look. “Doesn’t matter.
Bertie’s in favor, so that’s three against two. We simply have to
decide when and where to do it.”

I sat back and folded my considerably leaner
arms.

Myrtle did that squirmy thing that usually
means she either has to pee or has great cards. “Bertie and I think
we should meet at my place. Tonight, if it can be arranged. After
dinner.”

“I don’t think you can fit thirteen people
in your living room.” I’d once caught a glimpse of Myrtle’s
apartment when I was walking by and she was just coming out.

“Thirteen?”

“The four of us, Bertie, the other seven
customers, and Eddie.”

“Bertie feels only he and I need to meet
with Eddie. After all, I’m the one who noticed what was happening,
which is the only reason you know about it.”

“But we’re the ones who did the
investigating.” Really, the woman was insufferable.

“I agree with Josephine. I think all four of
us should be included in the meeting,” Lill said.

Finally, a voice of reason, even if it was
too late to alter the most egregious part of Myrtle’s plan.

“I suppose that’s all right. But I’ll have
to check with Bertie.”

“Why?” I said.

“Well, because—”

“He’s a man?”

“Yes, I do think it’s important a man is
present. And since Bertie lost the most, he is the logical choice
to do the speaking.”

“How perfectly reasonable.” I smiled at
Myrtle.

“Yes. Man to man. I think that’s best.”

“Of course you do.” I moved my leg before
Lill could whack me again. “You’ll arrange with Eddie to be there,
of course?”

“Of course,” Myrtle said.

“Now that’s settled, shall we play
cards?”

~ ~ ~

“We asked you to meet with us,” Edna said, speaking out of turn, I
might add, “because we need your advice.”

I thought it an uncomfortably bogus way to
begin. We were gathered in Myrtle’s apartment, and there was barely
space for the six of us to sit, what with the way the living room
was stuffed with furniture and knickknacks. Clearly, if Myrtle had
made any effort to downsize when she moved to Brookside, it wasn’t
successful.

I was squashed between Lill and Edna on the
sofa, and although that was preferable to sharing the other sofa
with Bertie and Myrtle, it wasn’t comfortable. Eddie had pulled up
a chair from the dining room table, and I envied him that solitary
seat. I wished I’d thought to do that instead of sinking into the
depths of Myrtle’s puffy couch.

Eddie cocked his head and smiled at Edna.
“You know I’m always happy to help you guys.” He turned the grin,
full of teeth, on the rest of us.

Deciding enough was enough, I squirmed to my
feet, collected one of the dining table chairs, and seated myself.
There, I could breathe again.

Everyone waited until I was settled, and
then Bertie cleared his throat, thoroughly, as was his habit. “We
called you here in order get to the bottom of some . . .
uh, discrepancies we’ve happened to notice.”

“Discrepancies?”

“Yes. Well. I don’t suppose there’s any good
way to say this.” He halted and cleared his throat again.

Really, the man needed an antihistamine.

“Recently, Myrtle noticed that you didn’t
return the proper change when you did her grocery shopping.” Bertie
pushed the words out quickly and then sat back, blinking at Eddie
and looking, to my eyes, rather like a tortoise.

Eddie frowned and sat up straighter. “Yes. I
remember that. A calculation error. I tried to correct it, but she
refused to take the money.”

“Yes. Hmm.” Another round of throat
clearing.

My normal level of tolerance is two throat
clearings followed by two less-than-stimulating Bertie
pronouncements, and that had now been officially exceeded.

“It so happens that last week my change was
also shorted, and this week, I was charged for a gift card I didn’t
order,” Bertie said.

“Oh shit. Did I mix that up? Sorry,
man.”

Eddie’s eyes swung to his left, something
detective dramas claim is a sure sign the perp is lying. But I’ve
heard it discussed by more competent experts on NPR, and they said
the best way to spot a liar is by watching for micro facial
expressions.

“That was supposed to be on Mary’s
bill.”

Furtive. That was my diagnosis.

“No, no. Mary had a gift card on her bill as
well. But it wasn’t hers.”

Eddie’s face twitched, and although it was
over in a fraction of a second, I saw guilt in that twitch. He
sighed and looked left again. So maybe detective dramas have a
point.

“Sounds like I screwed everything up.”

He continued to look everywhere but at any
of us. And that decided it for me. He was lying. No question.

“Guess I’d better go over my notes to see
who the card belongs to. Thanks for letting me know.” He stood.

“Just a moment, young man,” Edna said. “I
believe you better hear us out.”

Eddie still held on to that cocky smile, but
he slumped back on the chair.

Edna nodded at Bertie, no doubt urging him
to continue, but I decided man-to-man just wasn’t getting the job
done.

“We did some checking this last week,” I
said. “Besides Bertie and Mary, we found two other customers who
had gift cards on their bills they didn’t order. And several
residents can document you shorted the change you gave them. We
consider that evidence you’ve been systematically stealing from
residents. I suggest you stop with the lame excuses and tell us how
you plan to repay those you stole from.”

“Wow. I knew you didn’t like me, Josephine,
but to accuse me of something like this. It’s just, well, it’s
mind-boggling.”

“Ah, yes. The
best defense is a strong
offense
defense. And if you please, don’t Josephine me. I am
Mrs. Bartlett.”

Eddie looked around the group, beginning, I
believe, to comprehend his dilemma.

“We have the receipts documenting the
fraudulent transactions, and based on those, we’ve made some
best-guess estimates of what you’ve likely embezzled over the past
year. We believe the amount could be substantial.”

“Embezzled is such an ugly word.”

“What word would you use?” I said.

Eddie shook his head. “I . . . I
did it for . . . S-sara.” His lip trembled and his eyes
teared up, but the microexpression looked calculating to me. “She’s
sick. That’s why I took this job. For the insurance. But it doesn’t
pay well enough, and I’m desperate. I just want my baby girl to get
better.”

I glanced around at the group, trying to
gauge their reactions. Myrtle was dabbing at her eyes, and Edna was
clearly softening, but Lill was tapping her lip, which meant she
didn’t buy Eddie’s story any more than I did.

“What’s wrong with Sara?” I said.

“She has cancer.”

“Yes. What kind of cancer?”

“Something’s wrong with her blood.”

“Do you mean leukemia?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. Leukemia.” The man might
look bright, but looks were clearly deceiving. He was, however, sly
and clever. “She needs lots of medicine, and it makes her really,
really sick.”

“You poor man,” Myrtle said. “I had no idea
you had a sick daughter.”

“I don’t like to say much,” Eddie said. “I
mean, everyone here has problems, haven’t they?” He shrugged. “I
don’t want to burden you with my problems.”

“But maybe we can help you,” Myrtle
said.

Bertie was nodding, whether from sleepiness
or as a Pavlovian response to what Myrtle was saying, I had no way
of knowing.

“Tell us what we can do to help,” Myrtle
insisted.

I snorted; I couldn’t help myself. The
meeting was turning into a shambles, and all because Myrtle let
emotions rule rather than common sense.

“Now, Josephine,” Myrtle said. “I can’t
allow us to do something here that would hurt a little girl.”

“Of course you can’t, Myrtle. But I’m not
sure how he plans to pay medical expenses with a Cheesecake Factory
gift card.”

“I . . . I just wanted to give her
a treat. As soon as she feels like eating again.”

Eddie had his head down but he shot me a
glance, and I could see he knew he’d won. This round, anyway.

“It would be devastating if I lost this
job,” he continued, his voice cracking.

The man should try out for one of those
reality television shows.
Biggest Liar
,
maybe.

“If I lost my insurance, Sara could
die.”

I stood. I could not take another moment of
the man’s duplicity and Myrtle and Bertie’s fawning stupidity. Lill
stood as well. I thought to make a parting statement about what had
transpired, but Lill got a firm grip on my arm and steered me out
the door.

“Did you believe him?” I said as we walked
away.

“Of course not. The man’s no good.”

“Then why—”

“Why didn’t I say so?”

“Yes.”

“Wouldn’t have done a lick of good. Myrtle
was on a sympathy roll. No sense getting riled about something
unstoppable like that. What we need to do is make sure those
receipts and written statements are hidden away where Eddie can’t
get his hands on them. Then we’re going to find out if he has a
sick daughter, which I don’t believe he has. And once we do that,
I’m ready to report him, but to someone with more authority than
Mr. Souter.”

“Edna has the documentation.”

“She’s currently engaged. I propose we go
collect it,” Lill said.

“But her door will be locked.”

“Of course it won’t. Nobody locks their
doors, Josephine.”

“I do.”

“But what’s the point? All the staff have
those key cards. They can walk in anytime, you know.”

“Of course I know. So, where do we hide the
evidence?”

“In the mail.”

“What do you mean?”

“We put it in an envelope and address it to
. . . well, we need to figure that out,” Lill said. “And
then we mail it. While he’s looking for it, and trust me, he will
look, it’ll be safely in the hands of the post office.”

“What do you mean, he’ll be looking?” I
thought her post office idea was too complex, but I hesitated to
say so.

“It’s his livelihood. Of course he’ll
look.”

I had a sudden sharp pain in my abdomen at
the thought of Eddie going through my things.

At that point, Lill and I arrived at Edna’s
apartment. Sure enough, the door was unlocked. Since I’d worked
with Edna on the receipts, I knew where everything was. Lill found
a plastic bag in a kitchen drawer, and I dumped the receipts and
affidavits into it. I smoothed the bag and slipped it into the
small tote I carry with me. The one with my keys.

We were in and out of Edna’s in under a
minute. But we still had the problem of what to do with the
receipts. We needed to hide them in a place Eddie wouldn’t think to
look, which meant some where other than my apartment or Lill’s.

“I have an idea what to do with these,” I
said. “How about we put them in Devi Subramanian’s desk? She’s
hardly ever in her office. Besides, most people rarely look in the
file drawer of their desk. I think it’ll be safe there for the time
being. What do you think?”

Lill agreed it was a brilliant idea, so we
went to the front lobby and took seats at a table in the corner and
waited for the woman at the front desk to go to the bathroom. I
hoped that Eddie wouldn’t walk through the lobby on his way out the
door, although I believe most of the staff uses the back door.

Lill and I were on our second hand of Crazy
Eights before the receptionist finally got up and disappeared into
the restroom. I set my cards down, picked up my tote, and hustled
into Devi’s darkened office. The file drawer was locked, and in the
dim light, I’d never find the key, so I opened the bottom drawer on
the other side and slipped the bag of receipts under the papers in
that drawer, closed it, and hustled back out.

“Good,” Lill said. “You were so quick, there
wasn’t time for anyone to see you. Shall we finish this hand?”

I wanted to say, “Must we?” Instead, I
smiled at Lill. “Of course, we’ll finish.”

Lill picked up her cards, glanced at them,
then looked at me. “This was a good night’s work, Josephine.”

“Not if Eddie smothers one of us.”

Lill sat back, blinking. “Oh. I do hope it
doesn’t come to that.”

Having her share, instead of contest, my
concern was certainly not reassuring. “Maybe we should prop chairs
against our bedroom doors?”

“Yes. I believe that would be an excellent
idea.”

Devi

Friday morning, when I opened my bottom desk drawer where I keep my
purse, I noticed the drawer’s disordered appearance. The poker
ladies appropriating more paper clips, or someone else?

There wasn’t anything of particular
importance in the drawer, but I still didn’t like the feeling it
gave me to know that someone had been in my office, going through
my things.

Then I noticed a plastic bag pushed beneath
a few loose papers. I pulled it out to find it contained a bunch of
supermarket receipts. In addition to the receipts were several
sheets of paper that appeared to be affidavits. It didn’t require
much of a leap to conclude this was evidence of Eddie’s
activities.

I put everything back in the bag, but
instead of returning it to the desk drawer, I took it out and
locked it in my car. Then I returned to the lobby to gather the
group I was accompanying on a mall outing. When I realized one of
the people on the outing had also been listed in one of the
affidavits, I caught up with her to have a private word.

“It’s so nice to see you, Mrs. Griffiths.
You aren’t usually on my mall and grocery runs,” I said.