Mahjonged (An Alex Harris Mystery)
“It wasn’t my fault,” Liz said. “There was another man on the floor. He had the same first initial, E, and his last name was the same, but spelled differently. Somehow, the charts got mixed up and the DNR was written on the wrong one. But I didn’t do it.”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” I said placing my hand to my heart. I led Liz over to the sofa and we sat down.
“Did someone need a cup of tea out here?” Mary-Beth asked a few minutes later.
“It’s for Mia. Now where did she go?” I asked as I looked around.
“Maybe she left,” Mary-Beth suggested.
“No one’s going anywhere,” my sister said, coming into the house followed by Meme and Theresa. The three of them stood there making a muddy puddle on the hardwood floor. “There’s a giant tree down at the end of the road. We had to park one street over. We cut through your neighbor’s backyard, Alex.”
“Scared the dog half to death,” Meme added. “Good thing I wore my galoshes. Their dog must dig a lot cuz their yard is real muddy.” The little hat my grandmother always wore had miraculously managed to stay on her head, but it dripped rain down Meme’s face.
“I was the last car they let in to the neighborhood so I hope everyone is already here. Mildred’s Creek is overflowing and flooding the bridge. You really should have moved to a house in an area with a bigger bridge, Alex,” my sister added.
“Well, I hope everyone brought pajamas. Looks like it’s going to be a sleepover,” I sighed.
“I am not staying another minute in this house with that woman!” Mia said from where she stood in the foyer.
“What woman?” my sister whispered in my ear.
I just shook my head in despair. Not only was I stuck having to play with all these women but now they would be staying the night.
“Now, I suggest we all calm down. We’re obviously not going anywhere for a while,” Dorothy said. Dorothy is my mother’s best friend and like a second mother to Sam and me.
“Why don’t we all have some soup and salad? Dorothy, why don’t you take Penelope and Liz into the dining room? Sam, you come with me.” I dragged my sister into the kitchen where my mom prepared a pot of coffee.
“What the heck is going on here?” Sam asked.
“Well, if you had arrived sooner, you would know.”
“Alex, don’t talk to your sister that way.”
I am a thirty-eight-year old married woman but when my mom tells me to do something, I do it. How pathetic am I? “Sorry. What took you so long, by the way?” I said with a mock smile, while I reached into my jar of M&Ms. They’re my Prozac and I had a feeling I might need a lot of them tonight.
“That little walk through the neighbor’s yard, which is now a pond, didn’t help. Plus I had Meme holding onto one arm and Theresa holding my other arm,” Sam said. “So, if I may be so bold as to ask again, what is going on here? And where can I put these shoes?” Sam had taken off her ankle boots, which she now held over the sink.
“Just put them by the back door. There’s a pair of slippers out there. You can wear those. Let’s get in there before another fight breaks out. And let’s try to be cheerful, shall we?” I smiled to the group in the kitchen.
The group in the dining room had helped themselves to dinner. So much for all hell breaking loose, food being the great pacifier. Millie, her mother Judith Chapman, and Mia, had settled themselves on the sofa in the living room. At least Mia tried to eat something, I thought thinking it must be a good sign. Of what, I wasn’t sure, but at least the young woman wasn’t still yelling.
Liz came with Connie Cabrizzi, one of the instructors at the health club I belonged to, and I would have to ask Connie if she knew anything about what Mia had accused Liz of. Connie always had some good gossip about people at the club and, while I didn’t spread it myself, I had no qualms about hearing it once in a while. Connie had brought Liz along in the hopes I could find her some administrative work. The woman was a nurse and I wondered, if she had been cleared of any wrong-doing as she said, why she wasn’t still working in the profession?
After all the introductions were made and everyone filled up on soup, salad, and crusty bread, my mom and Dorothy helped me clear the table and in place of the soup pot, I put a carrot cake and a chocolate cream pie along with another pot of coffee and freshly brewed tea. “Well, why don’t we all go into the library and begin,” I suggested hoping to ease the tension. My evening was not turning out at all like I had planned, but once we started to play, I hoped things would get better. I just had to make sure Mia and Liz did not play at the same table.
With the other card table Sam brought stuck in her car a block away, Millie and Sam went out to Mrs. Chapman’s car to retrieve a table she had left in her trunk from a meeting she attended several days before.
Twenty minutes later, everyone had built their Great Wall. The sound of mahjong tiles being moved around the table was a welcoming sound from the screech of Mia’s voice. But, as any good weatherman will tell you, this was just the calm before the storm.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Mahjong!” Millie shouted from the other side of the room. Again. “Pay me. Twenty-five cents each.”
The wind howled outside as each table continued their games, players picking tiles from the Great Wall and discarding others. I suddenly felt a fluttering of air across my ankle where the skin of my leg was exposed between the hem of my jeans and my sock. Almost imperceptible but then I felt it again. I glanced around the room and other than hands picking up and discarding mahjong tiles, I saw no movement. I lived in an old house, and one which was obviously not wind proof. Just another thing to add to John’s ever-growing list of home projects.
I looked around at each table. I played at a table with Mary-Beth, Meme and Theresa. Everything seemed calm. Mia sat at the same table with Millie and Sam along with Millie’s mom, Judith. My mom played at a table with Penelope Radamaker and Liz and Jean while Dorothy and Connie played a three-handed version with Francis Haddock.
I had met Francis Haddock a couple years earlier while investigating the murder of a woman who worked at the local mannequin factory. My mom had taken Mrs. Haddock under her wing and she fit in perfectly with the seniors group. My grandmother was also systematically turning her into quite a Bingo player.
I watched Penelope, Liz and Jean. Until tonight, I’d never met them before. Penelope arrived with Judith Chapman. She had lived in Europe for many years and now lived here in Indian Cove. She seemed to be a lively woman and from the look of her clothes, probably a rich woman as well. She, like Liz, dressed in red. Come to think of it, Connie and my mom also wore red and so did Mia. I then looked at Liz. There was obviously a story there. I would have to find out the details later from Connie. My mom had invited Jean Malansky, another friend from the seniors group. She had been quiet all evening, though very friendly whenever anyone talked to her. Mom hoped to bring her out of her shell. Jean didn’t say a whole lot but she seemed to be one heck of a mahjong player and I would have to remember to include her in any future games I organized. Jean was tall and thin and had pale red hair with a lot of gray she didn’t bother to color. Comparing her to Penelope and her own head of thick, wavy red hair there was a striking contrast. One looked like she lived the life of Jackie O and the other like Jackie O’s maid.
“Honey, it’s your turn,” Meme said, bringing me out of my musings. “You’re tryin’ to figure out what’s going on between Liz and Mia aren’t you?”
Nothing got past my grandmother. The only difference between her and her daughter, my mom, was my mother would admonish me to stop immediately, whereas Meme usually wanted in on whatever I was up to.
“I’m sure there’s a good story there, but now’s not the time. I’ll have to stop over at the club on Monday and ask Connie what it’s all about,” I whispered to the group at my table, knowing full well I sat with a bunch of nosy snoops just like me.
“What the heck hell? You’re cheating!” Sam pouted from the
other side of the room as Millie won again.
I smiled at my sister’s use of “what the heck hell.” My nephew Henry had a habit of saying “what the hell,” which we all knew he picked up from his mother. My sister, being the good mom, and trying to keep him from getting kicked out of school, told him he should be saying “what the heck,” and before we knew it, the phrase morphed to “what the heck hell.” My sister promptly claimed it as her own and loved saying it.
“Before I give you one more red cent, Millie Chapman,” Sam huffed, “I just want to say two things. One, don’t forget you work for me, and two, I want Alex to check your hand before we pay up.”
Millie, who had won three games in a row, just smiled and said, “No problem. Alex, do you mind coming over here to check my tiles?”
I walked over to their table. “Millie, you got a Small Chow! Nice going. This is a difficult hand to get.”
“Wait a minute,” Sam said getting up and moving over to Millie’s side for a better look. “What in God’s name is a chow? I thought we were supposed to be working on Pungs or Mungs or some damned thing.”
“Pungs. And there are also chows, which are three tiles in sequence in the same suit. And it’s a double. So you pay her fifty cents.”
Millie beamed. Her mother gave her another twenty-five cents and Sam continued to pout.
“I can’t even figure out which wind I am,” Sam moaned, referring to the four winds, East, West, North, and South, which were part of the game. She finally went back to her seat and took fifty cents out of her wallet and handed it to Millie.
“You’re a wind bag!” Meme shouted from my table.
“I’ve had enough of great walls, and flowers and winds and pungs, and chows. I want cake,” Sam said, pushing back her chair and bumping into Penelope behind her. “Sorry, Penny.”
“It’s Penelope,” Penelope Radamaker said, turning to face Sam and then turning back to her table. “I’ve never played this version of mahjong, Alex. Wherever did you learn it and where did you get those picture books?”
We played a version of mahjong I picked up from an old college friend. It had been started by a group of military wives many years ago so wherever their husbands got stationed around the world, they would be sure to find other military wives playing the same version. When I decided to invite everyone to my home I promptly went through the boxes in the garage I still hadn’t unpacked when I moved in after our honeymoon. I found the play books I bought many years before. They had over a hundred different hands you could try to build showing pictures of what tiles you needed to get. I thought it made the game much easier, especially for beginners.
“It’s just a version I learned in college. I like having all the different hand options.”
“Well, it is challenging,” Penelope said.
Mary-Beth stood up and stretched. “I think I’m ready for a break as well.
Sam, Mary-Beth and I went into the dining room for a piece of cake and something to drink. Connie excused herself to use the bathroom and my mom went into the kitchen to make another pot of coffee.
With cake in hand, Sam and I went into the kitchen to help my mother. “Well, it’s not going quite the way I had in mind, but at least no one is killing each other,” I said, as I filled up the teapot and placed it on the stove.
“This is a fun party, honey,” Meme said, as she came into the kitchen with Theresa and Francis. Three white-haired ladies. My grandmother was the shortest and roundest of the three. Theresa was as thin as Meme was round and Frances was the more refined with her Scottish accent and delicate way of doing things. She had been so lonely when her friend died at the factory, but now she seemed like a totally different person. Meme had a way of bringing people out of their shell. Frances spent more and more time with Meme and her gang as my mom referred to Meme’s friends.
I sighed. “I guess so. There’s still tension in the air, but everyone seems to be having a good time,” I said.
“Well, Penelope is certainly having a good time,” my mom said from where she stood at my kitchen counter, methodically folding and creasing the large paper bags the desserts came in. She was the quintessential recycler and those bags would end up in some craft project or wrapped around my next birthday gift. “She’s been telling us all about the time she spent in Europe. Such an interesting life. I think Liz is still a bit embarrassed about what happened with Mia, but Jean is coming out of her shell. That’s exactly what I hoped for.”
Besides keeping the earth a bit greener my mom was also a do-gooder, always looking to lend a hand to someone in need. The coffee pot gave a last gurgle and Mom poured the brew into a thermos container she would set out on the dining room table.
“What the heck hell! Who turned off the lights?” Sam said, as the kitchen suddenly went dark.
I walked to the window and looked out. “It’s all over. The street lights are out and so are the lights in my neighbor’s house. Damn. Just what I need.”
“Do you have a flashlight?” Mom asked. “At least the coffee is done and the stove is gas. Where do you keep your candles?”
“There’s a flashlight in the drawer to the right of the stove and I have some candles in the closet there,” I said pointing to the pantry though no one could see me. “Oh, and there’s a big one on the mantle in the living room.”
“What’s going on?”
“Dorothy? Is that you,” Mom asked into the darkness. “Hold on. I think I’ve got the flashlight. There!” A strong beam illuminated the kitchen. “Perfect. Sam, you take this pot out to the dining room and Dorothy, here take this pot of tea. Let me see if I can find some matches.”
Mom took a box of matches into the dining room and I followed with a bag of candles. “I’ve only got three big ones, a bunch of votives and a lot of these little ones for keeping food warm. We can put them in these little bowls and they should be fine.”
Everyone gathered in the dining room.
“This is fun,” Millie said, always cheerful. It was the main reason we hired her for our agency and as a bonus we found she had a ton of skills.
“All we need are marshmallows and a fire,” Judith said, showing once again where Millie got her sunny outlook.
“A fire. What a great idea. And there’s already wood in the fireplace.” My dining room and living area where connected and I made my way into the still darkened living room and over to the fireplace. “I’m afraid though, I’m all out of marshmallows but I can make hot chocolate.”
“I think that about does it for mahjong, ladies. Even with candle light, I think those tiles will be hard to see,” Liz said.
Dorothy poured herself a cup of coffee and walked around the table to the carrot cake. “Has anyone seen the knife for the cake?”
“It should be there,” Mom said. “Let me go get another one.”
“I used the pie cutter to slice my piece,” Sam offered.
Dorothy continued talking while she waited for a knife. “This is cozy. We probably best stay in here by the fire and the food. If the power stays off too long, it’s going to get cold.”
“That’s right,” I said from the direction of the fireplace. “I forgot the furnace has been on all night.” I moved over to the large glass door leading onto the back patio. “That wind is something fierce. I’ll bet a tree fell onto a power line or something.”
A gust of wind swept through the house blowing out the two large candles on the dining room table. “Damn. The window upstairs must have blown open again. And I guess I forgot to close the door.” I took the flashlight from my mother, who just returned with a new knife, and sprinted up the stairs only to return a few minutes later. “What a mess. Thank goodness we plan on replacing the old carpet up there. It’s all wet and there are leaves and even a small branch on the floor. I knew that tree outside was too close to the house. John will just have to cut a few of the branches when he gets back. And fix the window.”
“Alex, you had better put some towels down before the wate
r seeps through the ceiling.”
“Thanks, Mom, I did. I think we had better all stay in here. There’s plenty of food and drink and with the fire, it should stay warm. Is everyone here?”
“I think so,” Sam said, from her position on the sofa, cake in hand. My sister always seemed to be eating.
“No, wait,” Mom interrupted, “there’s someone missing. Ladies, ladies,” she shouted. “Come in here and get warm!” she called to the stragglers who were milling about in the doorway.
“Where’s Penelope?” Dorothy asked.
“We thought she came in here,” Mia offered. “Can’t see a thing in the library.”
“Penelope! Come join us,” Mom shouted again, her voice managing to match her height. “Where on earth did she get to? Alex, give me the flashlight, please.”
I passed the flashlight to my mother. Sam put her cake plate down and followed my mom. We all marched behind them into the library. “Penelope? This isn’t funny. Where are you?” Mom said.
“Mom,” Sam managed to squeak out as she rested her shaky hand on my mother’s shoulder.
My mother frantically waved the flashlight around the room until it settled on Penelope Radamaker. Penelope’s head had fallen over and crushed the Great Wall and her breasts were resting on her rack of tiles, but the thing that got everyone’s attention was the cake knife sticking out of her back.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Mom screamed and dropped the flashlight plunging us all into darkness again. Meme pushed her sizable way past the others and stood next to Mom. She bent down and took the flashlight in her hand and shone it on the table. Meme gasped and clutched her heart sending a beam of light toward the ceiling.
“Good God!” I exclaimed reaching on tiptoe to see over Mom’s head. “Someone call the ambulance. And the police. Quick!” I shouted to no one in particular. “Never mind. I know where the phone is.” I pushed my way through the mass of women who had pressed close to get a glimpse of what was going on in the library. A minute later, I returned. “Well, that’s just great. The phone’s dead and I can’t find my cell.”