Chapter 19
As Ginger was leaving Ellegora Newcomb’s house, she asked when Navy’s funeral would be held, and was surprised to find out that it would be the next morning, at ten. That didn’t allow much time to get the word out. Ellegora told her she had left the planning up to their family attorney, Carl Vittleman.
Ginger parked her car and walked into Mr. Vittleman office. Perhaps he knew of someone who had made threats against Navy. She had wanted to ask Ellegora about it. But, after seeing her condition, she decided not bring up.
“I’m here to see Mr. Vittleman.”
The young woman at the receptionist desk glanced up from her magazine. “And your name?” She laid down the magazine.
“Ginger Lightley.”
The woman checked her computer. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No, I don’t. But I just came from the Newcomb Estate, and—”
“—I’ll let him know you’re here.” She picked up the phone and pressed the intercom button. “You have a visitor.” The young receptionist talked to him in a tone that made Ginger wonder if the two were lovers. She didn’t really know Carl Vittleman, but she was sure he was close to her own age.
“Her name is Ginger…” She looked to Ginger for help.
“Lightley,” said Ginger.
“Ginger Lightley. She doesn’t have an appointment, but she just came from Mrs. Newcomb’s house.”
Before the receptionist could hang up the phone, Ginger heard a door open, and a man walked out. He was too young to be Carl Vittleman.
“Hello, Mrs. Lightley. I’m Cray Vittleman.”
“Oh—you’re Carl’s son.” He was a very handsome young man, about 30, Ginger figured. But he seemed too smooth—sort of sleazy.
“Yes. Please come into my office.”
She followed him down the hall. They walked in and he closed the door.
“Please have a seat.”
“So, where is your father?”
“He’s ill. I’m handling his clients.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. How long has he been ill?”
“Uh…for a little while. The doctor says he needs a lot of rest. He’s going to be fine.”
“Well, I’m not sure whether you can help me with this.”
“I can assure you, Mrs. Lightley, that anything my father could do for you, I can do even better.” He smiled slyly.
“I see. Well, then, what do you know about Navy Newcomb? Do you know if anybody had been threatening him?”
Cray began to squirm. “Oh. I thought you needed
Ginger stood up. “Well, I’m sorry to have wasted your time, Cray. I hope your father gets well soon.” She walked out.
“Thanks. Goodbye.” He closed his door.
“Well, that was quick,” said the receptionist, scarcely looking up from her magazine.
Ginger wondered how much the young woman knew, and how difficult it would be to get it out of her. “It’s such a shame what happened to Navy Newcomb.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Especially when he was just about to get all that money.”
“Yeah. If he’d only known it was just a few days away.”
A few days away? Wasn’t Navy’s birthday next week? Perhaps Ellegora had planned to give her son a large birthday gift. Or maybe there was a second trust fund. That would explain why the family lawyer would be involved.
“Well, thanks. And have a nice day,” said Ginger.
“You too. Bye.”
As Ginger walked out to her car, she wondered who would stand to gain by Navy dying before he could collect?
A red car in the parking lot caught her eye. She looked more closely. Why did it seem familiar? Then she recognized the woman sitting in the driver’s seat. It was Kayla—Navy’s girlfriend. Ginger smiled and waved at her. Kayla suddenly turned her head the opposite direction.
What was Kayla doing there? Did she and Navy have some unfinished business with the Vittleman law firm? But why would it involve Kayla? If they had been married she could lay claim to the second trust fund—if there was one. But they weren’t. They hadn’t even been together long enough to establish a
**********
Bull Crawley checked his watch. Where was Silvy? She had promised to come back at 3:30.
He heard somebody come in the back door and walk down the hallway toward his office.
“Silvy? Is that you?”
“Yes, it is.” She appeared in his doorway carrying a very large potted plant. “Can you give me a hand with this thing?”
“What is it?” He got up from his desk and went to help her.
“It’s a gift—for you, Baby. For your office.”
“But it so…big. I don’t have any place to put it.”
“Sure you do,” she said. “Right over here in this corner.”
He helped her carry it.
“See?” she said. “Now every time you look up, you’ll see it and think of me.”
“Well…okay.”
“Let me explain. See these white flowers?”
“Yeah.”
“They are the males.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah. And these pretty pink flowers are the females.”
“Okay.”
“Think of it as a love plant. One of those white flowers is you and one of the pink ones is me.”
“A love plant?” He grabbed her and pulled her close. “I’d rather think of it as a
“You would, huh?” She punched him playfully. “That’ll work. It can be loving
“I like danger. And I know how to handle it.” He pulled her body in tighter.
“Can you?”
**********
The Domino Girls were at Ginger’s, about to eat Jane’s birthday cake.
“I shouldn’t be drinking coffee this late,” said Jane.
“Late?” said Barb. “It’s seven o’clock.”
“Now that you’re 61, I think you can handle a little late-night caffeine,” said Ethel. “Like the rest of us.”
“But can you handle the
“The sugar’s not a problem,” said Jane. “Bring it on.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Barb, tilting her head to check Jane’s body. “Have looked in the mirror and done a butt check lately?”
