“Sit down, Lucien. You know the rules,” said Tilly.
Lucien pouted and lowered himself into his chair.
Tilly continued.
“Motion was passed.”
“You cannot enforce,” mumbled Lucien.
“Silver Lake shared fifty-three photos of Pineapple Port residents playing pickle ball on Silver Lake courts and demanded restitution for scuff marks on aforementioned courts.”
“We have our own tennis courts,” said Penny, staring holes through her sister.
Tabby rolled her eyes. “Your people cross the street like a herd of cattle, trampling our courts with their off-brand sneakers because I was smart enough to plant shade trees around the courts and install a soda machine. Playing on your courts is like being a tennis-playing ant under a kid’s magnifying glass.” She sniffed.
From her spot at the head of the table, Penny leaned forward until her nose nearly touched Tabby’s. “Then use the money from your overpriced sodas to clean the courts, Pussy.”
Charlotte winced. She’d forgotten Penny referred to Tabby as Pussy Galore as a riff on her sister’s feline-inspired name. Tabby had made the mistake of letting on she hated the nickname, so it stuck.
Tabby crossed her arms against her chest and leaned back to create some distance from Penny’s hawkish nose. “The photos clearly show non-white-bottom shoes on known Pineapple Port residents.”
Tilly interrupted before Penny could respond. “Motion was passed. Penny was ordered to pay.”
Penny sniffed. “Ridiculous. Install locks if you want to keep us out.”
“There are locks, but your people sneak in like rats.”
“I thought we were ants? Make up your mind.”
“You’re both!” Tabby hissed the words like an angry cat and Charlotte noted the irony.
Tilly rubbed her forehead as if suffering from a building headache. “Tell you what. Since this is an emergency meeting requested by Charlotte, let’s let her talk and end this.”
The hefty man tilted back his chair, straining to see into the main restaurant. “Is there pizza coming?”
“You could use a day off, Hector,” muttered Jonathan. Lucian snickered.
Tilly motioned for Charlotte to take the floor and she stepped forward again, standing beside Tilly where she thought she’d be safest.
“Thank you. I’ll make this quick. I wanted you all to know I have reason to believe there is someone in the area killing people and making it look like an accident.”
“Like a serial killer?” asked Hector.
“Yes, something like—”
The room erupted with laughter and Charlotte frowned.
I’m so glad they all agree on something. I’m an idiot.
Lucien pulled at his beard. “You called us here to tell us there is a serial keeller on the loose?”
Charlotte pointed to Jonathan. “He knows.”
Jonathan poked The Fairways logo on his shirt. “Me? What are you talking about?”
“The man who died in his garage in your community. That was a suspicious death.”
Jonathan’s facial features twisted as if he smelled something bad. “No, it wasn’t. I mean, it’s a tragedy, but Steve wasn’t the brightest bulb on the tree. No one is shocked he suffocated himself.”
“But—”
Before Charlotte could argue, Angelo appeared with a server at his elbow. The server placed a glass of red wine in front of each member of the party while Angelo dealt slices of pizza like playing cards.
Tilly leaned toward Charlotte. “He has to make sure there is the same number of pepperonis on each slice and that the pours are identical.”
Charlotte watched as the five scanned the table, ensuring they hadn’t been short changed a pepperoni.
“They’re like children.”
“Worse. At least kids you can smack,” said Tilly.
“Yeah, wait, no—” Charlotte did a double take. “You can’t—”
Tilly cut her short to address the table. “Go ahead and eat but listen to Charlotte.”
The group nodded, chewing. It seemed pizza did have the power to shut them up.
Charlotte took a deep breath and started again. “Look. There’s one theory this killer—”
“If there is one,” interjected Tabby.
“—If there is one, they’re targeting people hoarding for the storm. All I’m asking is please be vigilant with whatever cameras or security surveillance you have in place. Don’t let strangers into the neighborhoods unless you know why they’re there, and tell people to keep their garages shut and their doors locked.”
“And for how long are we supposed to do all this?” asked Lucien, dabbing some grease from his beard.
Charlotte frowned. “I’m not sure. At least until after the storm. If you see something suspicious, let Sheriff Frank know.”
“This is stuff you should be doing all the time, frankly,” added Tilly.
“Sure, great, will do,” said Penny standing. The others realized she was leaving and leapt to their feet to beat her out of the room.
Lucien made it out first, so Penny paused by Charlotte, making it clear she’d never had any intention on being the first out the room. Jonathan remained seated, finishing his wine. He set down his glass and grabbed Lucian’s half-finished glass.
“What kind of Frenchman doesn’t finish his wine?” he asked. “Faker.”
Penny ignored him and scowled at Charlotte. “So you’re the one spreading the rumor Ted’s death wasn’t an accident?”
“I’m not spreading any rumors.”
“He fell off a ladder. They found him right there, at the bottom of a ladder.”
“There’s evidence someone hit him with a brick and staged everything to look like an accident.”
“Do you know what this could do to the Port’s reputation? Who wants to live in a murdery neighborhood?”
“I’m sorry, Penny. I didn’t make it up. We can’t just pretend it’s an accident when it’s not.”
Penny sneered. “We. Listen to you. You’re not the police.”
“No, but you can talk to Frank. He saw the same things I did.”
Penny picked up her purse. “Between you two and our stupid paper...they report everything wrong.”
“What did they get wrong?”
“They said his housekeeper found him. That’s a total fabrication.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Did you know Ted?”
“No.”
