The Murder (50-Plus Condo Book 1) - Janie Owens

Cozy Mystery Novel With Older Female Protagonist

The Murder (50-Plus Condo Book 1) by Janie Owens

Book excerpt

Rufus sat quietly, eyeballing every bite of toast Joe put into his mouth. The dog licked his lips when a blob of scrambled egg followed, his eyes fixated on the man.

“This is mine,” Joe said to the dog. “All mine.”

Rufus thumped his tail on the floor, his face saying, “Mine, too.”

“Oh, brother, look at you two,” Rachel said as she walked by them and into the kitchen. “Don’t turn your back or Rufus will swallow up your breakfast in one sweep of that tongue.”

“I have no intention of taking my eyes off this plate,” Joe said, taking a generous portion of egg onto his fork. “What are you doing up so early?”

“I can’t sleep. I just keep seeing the blood on the wall and then I feel miserable,” she said, pulling the carafe from the coffee maker and pouring a cup of coffee. “And Eneida came into my dreams last night.”

“Again? What happened?”

“She looked scared this time, like she was puzzled by what happened. I need to say prayers for her.” Rachel gave her husband a wide-eyed look.

“That is a very good idea." Joe shoved the last bite of toast into his mouth and placed the empty plate on the tile floor. Rufus slurped down any meager remnants of egg and crumbs. "Was she religious?"

“Well, she seemed spiritual. As for religious, I'm not sure. She was Catholic when she was younger." Rachel sat across from her husband, coffee cup in hand.

“Then you need to say some prayers for sure, and I will, too," Joe said. Oddly, Joe was the more religious one.

“I will.”

“And now she’s continuing to visit you in your sleep?” Joe gathered his keys and wallet as he spoke.

“Yes. That’s why I think she needs our prayers.”

“Hear that, Rufus? Mama’s being visited by your first mama.” Joe patted the dog when he raised his head from incessantly cleaning the plate.

“You really shouldn’t let him lick the plate, Joe.”

“What’s the difference? It’s going into the dishwasher, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but…never mind.” She was too tired to discuss it.

“Okay, I’m out of here,” Joe said, walking toward the door. “I’ll be upstairs trying to see what’s happening with the clean up after that fight the Rogers had. Then I’ll see if there’s any action at Eneida’s place.”

“Bye.” Rachel remained seated in her chair, slightly numb over her present life.

Joe had just exited the elevator when he heard a loud slam. Looking down the open-air walkway, he saw Marc Rogers furiously slamming his condo door, over and over. “What the heck are you doing?” Joe asked as he walked closer to the man.

“Door won’t stay shut!” Marc kept closing the door until Joe reached him.

“Knock it off! You’ve probably sprung it by slamming it like that.” Joe inserted himself between Marc and the door. “Step away.”

Marc did as he was told, stepping back about three feet from Joe and the door. He positioned himself against the railing that safely prevented him from falling several flights downward.

“Yeah, you’ve busted the door,” Joe said while examining the damage. “I’ll have to fix it or it won’t lock.”

“Don’t bother,” Marc said. “I don’t care if it locks or not.”

Joe turned toward Marc, noticing his appearance wasn’t suitable for public viewing. His hair was messy and he had on a ratty tee-shirt over his blue cutoff jeans. One of his arms had a sleeve of tattoos, the other only one heart. The sleeved arm appeared to be mostly biker related in theme, fitting a man who owned a bike shop. His feet were bare.

“Well, your wife just might like to feel safe by being able to lock the door,” Joe said. “You two have another fight?”

“Yeah. So what? You and your wife never fight?” The expression he wore was full of rage and he appeared nervous as he wiped the back of his hand across his bleeding nose.

“Not like that.”

Marc didn’t have a reply.

“I’m going to get my tools. Is Lola okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t she be?” Marc was getting testier the longer they talked.

“Oh, I don’t know, by the looks of you I’d guess she took a swing after you hit her.”

“She’s a crazy woman,” Marc said, turning away to spit blood over the railing of the walkway. “I think I’m losing a tooth because of her.”

“Well, don’t spit it down there on someone,” Joe said. “I’ll be back shortly.”

On his way to the maintenance closet, Joe had to walk by Eneida’s unit. Yellow crime scene tape was stretched across the doorway. No detectives seemed to be around at the time. He was curious about the investigation, such as, if they had any leads yet?

Joe arrived at his maintenance closet and unlocked the deadbolt. As his hand reached out to turn the doorknob, he caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye of a person approaching. It was Ruby, all decked out in an aggressively red bathing suit that almost matched the color of her hair.

“Hello, Joe,” Ruby said, giving him a bright smile. “I see Rachel has you working hard.”

“You could say that, Ruby.”

“Why don’t you come to my place for a cup of tea?” Ruby suggested, replacing the fallen strap on her bony shoulder.

The woman doesn’t have enough meat on her bones to keep her clothes in place, Joe thought.

“I can’t. I’ve got to tend to a broken door,” Joe said. “But thanks for the invite.”

Ruby smiled brightly again. “Any time, Joe.”

Joe liked Ruby. She was certainly a character, but he appreciated that quality. He watched her sashay her hips as she walked away. All ninety pounds of her. He couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t have a fanny anymore. He shook his head.

Joe returned to the Rogers apartment to repair the damaged door, knocking loudly so the occupants knew he was there.

“I’m repairing your door, just so you know,” Joe called out as he pushed open the door. “Holy cow.”

What he saw was an apartment that looked like one of the hurricanes from last year had made a repeat appearance. Lamps were on their sides, furniture turned wrong, pictures torn off the walls and tossed, and broken glass collected in various areas of the floor. The apartment smelled like everything Lola had cooked over the last few days. Most of that was on the floor, too. Were they throwing food at each other?

“Rachel won’t like this,” Joe muttered to himself.

After he’d been working on the repairs for a while, Lola crept from the bedroom. She was presentably dressed in shorts and a top, but one eye was blackened and her lips looked swollen.

Oh, there certainly had been a fight.

“Hello, Lola,” Joe said, glancing in her direction as she drew closer. “Had another fight, huh?”

“Nothing bad, just a little one,” she replied sheepishly.

“Yeah? I’d hate to see the end result of a bad one,” he remarked, nodding his head toward the living room. “When are you planning to clean up that mess? Or is some of it left from the last fight?”

“Maybe.”

Joe stopped what he was doing and turned to look more closely at Lola. Minus her bruises, Lola would have been an attractive woman. She had a rather muscular body, indicating she had participated in sports at some point in her life. He knew her to use the tennis court regularly. Obviously, she was quite capable of landing punches to Marc’s face.

“Why do you put up with this, Lola? Why don’t you leave Marc?” Joe was genuinely concerned about the abuse, remembering back to his own childhood. That was not a good memory.

“Leave? I wouldn’t leave Marc.” Her eyes grew big and she squared her shoulders with indignation. “He’s my husband and I love him.”

Joe swung his arm toward the room. “This doesn’t look like love. This looks like abuse.”

“Marc loves me. He just has a bad temper.”

“Oh, I can see he has a temper, all right. No question there.” Joe focused on the door again.

“When he comes home, he’ll help me clean up.” She smiled and giggled a little. “He’ll probably bring me roses, too.”

“Yeah, roses for your funeral’s more like it.” Joe shook his head in disgust, turning back to face her.

Lola dropped her head and looked away. “Marc loves me,” she said, her voice barely audible When she turned her head back, Joe could see tears in her eyes.

“Lola, you don’t have to put up with his abuse,” Joe said, stepping away from the door and closer to her. “There are shelters you can go to for protection.”

With her eyes welling to capacity, Lola reached out to Joe, throwing her arms around him. The distraught woman clung to him, sobbing into his chest. Joe froze in position, his body becoming as wooden as a toy soldier.

“Now, Lola, it’s okay,” he said, awkwardly patting her on the back with one hand while trying to disengage himself from her embrace with the other. “Here, stand up straight, wipe your eyes. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” Lola’s mouth opened wide as she released a pitiful wailing sound.

“Do you want me to call Rachel? I can get her here in a minute,” he suggested. This was more than Joe could handle. And it was awkward.

“No-o-o-o,” Lola moaned, her face all scrunched up in the ugly cry. She turned toward the bedroom and skipped inside, closing the door behind her.

“Wait till Rachel hears about this,” Joe muttered to himself.

He made quick work repairing the door and left before Lola decided to come out of the bedroom again.

Eleven

Rufus was licking Rachel’s knee when Joe entered her office. Immediately, the dog ceased and sprang at Joe.

“Down, Rufus!” Joe removed the dog’s paws from his chest and let him drop to the floor. “Good boy. Down is good.”

“It’s going to take time to break him of that habit,” Rachel said.

“I see that.”

“Any signs of cleanup at the Rogers’ apartment?”

“Not really. I just finished repairing the front door.”

Rachel turned away from the desk, focusing fully on Joe. “What was wrong with the door?”

“Marc broke it slamming it shut a dozen times, is my guess. I caught him and stopped him

from doing more damage,” Joe said, easing into a chair across the desk from Rachel.

Rachel looked questioningly at him. “That doesn’t make sense.” She had chosen the turquoise blouse she was wearing because it made her blue eyes stand out. Rachel knew her husband liked it when she wore blue. She was sure he noticed.

“It does if you saw the apartment. They had a fight and the place is trashed again. Or maybe still. I bet it never got cleaned up after their last one.” He shrugged.

“I can’t allow this to continue. That man is going to kill her if something isn’t done.”

“Well, don’t look at Lola to do anything. She’s sporting a fresh black eye and swollen lips." He pointed at the mini fridge to indicate he wanted a bottle of water. "Marc had a bloody nose. She must have clocked him because he was spitting blood. Said he was losing a tooth.”

“This situation is totally out of hand. She needs to leave that jerk and go to a shelter,” Rachel said, handing a bottle of water to Joe and opening one for herself.

“Yeah, well, that was my suggestion to her and she just says she loves him. She isn’t going anywhere.” Joe took a long drink from the bottle.

“I need to inform the Morgans about their tenants. They probably have no clue what’s going on there.”

“Whatever you think best.”

“And you said the place is trashed — again?”

“Or additionally. Hard to tell, but it’s a mess.”

Rachel reached for her telephone log. “I’m calling the Morgans. I’ve had enough. They need to evict their tenants.”

“I also went by Eneida’s apartment and there isn’t any action there. No cops in sight.”

“Detective France will let me know if something’s happening.” Rachel looked over at her husband. He was her support system, always calm and steady when she was on the brink of an emotional drop. “Poor Eneida.”

Book Details

AUTHOR NAME: Janie Owens

BOOK TITLE: The Murder (50-Plus Condo Book 1)

GENRE: Mystery

SUBGENRE: Cozy Mystery

PAGE COUNT: 252

IN THE BLOG: Free Mystery Books, Free Mystery Books For Nook

“Finally a story that embraces that stage in our lives we cannot ignore: Senior Citizenship! I enjoyed this delightful page turner”

— Amazon Review

“If you’re looking for a fun summer read, here it is”

— Amazon Review

“50-Plus Condo has every ingredient of a captivating cozy mystery: colorful characters, murder, intrigue, and the road to redemption... Highly recommended”

— Amazon Review