Nosy Neighbors

By Denise M. Hartman

Blanche Binkley is living the retired life in Florida and likes to keep things orderly. When a suspicious new neighbor slinks around the Seaside Flats condos, she starts snooping. No one’s going to mess up her corner of paradise. Neighborhood robberies are on the rise and she wonders if the new neighbor is linked, but when she learns more she begins to feel sorry for the skinny haunted girl in Condo 209. Then the condo homes association loses $40k and wants Blanche to find it before the president, Sal, gets out of the hospital. It get’s messy before it’s over -- someone will be dead, someone else will be kidnapped and Blanche’s friend Al from second floor won’t be speaking to her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Denise M. Hartman
• Release date: Dec 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9780985720032

Denise M. Hartman

Denise has worked as a journalist, a freelance writer, a graphic designer and a video producer. Denise is a member of Sisters in Crime and was president of a local chapter. She’s from Kansas but currently lives in Madrid, Spain. Look for her novels and short stories where good books are sold! Nosy Neighbors, Complicated Cove (Blanche Binkley Books), and stand alone: Killed in Kruger.

Book preview

Chapter One

Blanche pulled up short with her key in the door. Something was wrong. Blanche’s key flipped loosely in her apartment door. She stared at the tiny brass knocker and peephole. It didn’t feel right. It was like the door wasn’t locked. She knew she locked it. She always did even when she trotted down to knock on a condo neighbor’s door.

She crept inside and looked around. Footprints in the freshly vacuumed cream carpet pattern weren’t hers. She’d vacuumed this morning. The sliding patio door was open a crack. She knew she’d closed it after breakfast outside. Temp predictions for 90 made sure she popped the A/C on before she left.

Burgled! She said out loud when her eyes moved to the kitchen counter. Her last ATM withdrawal of cash was not on the counter where she left it. She’d taken the tip for Sammy, her hairdresser, and left the rest lying on the counter.

She reached for her weapon of choice and pushed 911 on her telephone.

All operators are busy. Please be prepared to explain the nature of your emergency.

Right. Blanche knew that meant that officers were busy too and weren’t going to be dispatched to her tiny burglary in the Seaside Flats. She dialed Alice the condo secretary and explained the situation.

Oh yeah. Sarah in 201 has missed some cash and the Achmeds in 420 reported some silver figurines missing.

What? Why haven’t you sent out a warning or something to the residents?

We’re getting one organized, but Klaud had problems with his duplication-thingee.

Printer?

Yeah, something.

You guys are incompetent. Blanche drummed her fresh red nails on the end table by the red phone appreciating how they matched.

What are you all worked up about? Would you have put your jewels in the bank or something? Alice knew how to dish it back. They’d been on the condo board together for years.

Maybe. No one needed to know that Harry had never been the jewelry buying type. He wasn’t really the buying of anything type.

You coulda left your door unlocked. Sure, you should be more careful, Alice said.

I never leave my door unlocked. Not even when I go to the laundry room.

Well, we’re all getting older. Maybe you forgot.

I did not forget. And who are you calling old? Blanche heard Alice snort on the other end of the line. She knew Alice was older than her. They always exchanged good natured banter. Anyway, I thought someone in the condo should know. I’m driving over to the police station now and talk to them.

To tell the truth, they haven’t been much help. Alice complained.

We’ll see what I can do about that. I’m going to get to the bottom of this. Nobody walked off with $200 from Blanche Binkley’s kitchen and nobody was getting away with thinking she was an absent minded old lady either.

She searched the rest of the apartment but found nothing more missing. A piece of the patio screened in porch was loose. She creased her brow. This was the fourth floor and it seemed unlikely that someone entered that way. She hadn’t noticed the loose screen before but couldn’t be sure either. It wasn’t something she paid attention to normally. Maybe age was a factor after all. Apparently the thief had been in a hurry since only the obvious money on the counter was gone. She had a couple necklaces in the bedroom that hadn’t been bothered. She’d go see what the police had to say.

Anyway, why waste a good fresh hair-do?

The Boca Raton police station gave a good impression of modern Mediterranean church with arched windows and tower. An aisle of cream stone pillars lined the walkway. It’d be a good place for a wedding if it wasn’t the police station. Apart from the one guy at the reception area, Blanche saw no one thru the glass doors beyond. They must be having an epidemic of crime on the streets and pulled all the desk jockeys out.

She knew she needed to register with this guy first. As a police department volunteer, Blanche knew the rules. She liked to obey them whenever possible. It kept order in the world.

I’m here to report a burglary.

The officer sighed and started clicking at his computer without saying anything.

I’m from Seaside Flats. We’ve had some problems lately. I’m a police volunteer. Maybe that would help.

A nod from the officer.

When was the last burglary there?

Couldn’t say.

Obviously the chatty approach wasn’t going to work with this guy she didn’t know. Blanche took the form he printed out and filled out all the appropriate boxes. The officer asked a few questions and finished it.

Crime outbreak today?

You could say that. Spring break. And the rest are on vacation or out sick.

Blanche nodded and patted the fresh dye job.

Here’s your form for insurance purposes.

No investigation?

Look, ah, he glanced at the form, Mrs. Binkley, it’s nothing personal. We’re just overloaded right now.

And there’s all those convenience store robberies, what about those?

Yes, those too.

We’ve had three incidents at the condo now. I think someone should take a look.

It’s probably a kid. They’ll get bored or go for higher stakes. We’ll get ‘em. Look, I’m sorry. The phone had started ringing and she knew it was over. For now. But she’d be back.

She hit the play button on her answering machine when she walked back in the door of condo 414. Home sweet burgled home. She deposited her 12 pound, cream vinyl pocketbook on the floral divan and went to survey the damage her hair color had done to her makeup. Normally this was something she did right away but the burglary, while it could have been worse, had shaken her up more than she realized. She reapplied her foundation, rouge, hint-of-lavender frosted eye shadow to go with her nylon gym suit and drama-pink lipstick while her messages played.

One message played from her ne’er do well son, Tommy. Just checking to see how mummy was doing. Code for could I borrow a little more cash, most likely. How about the cash out of the kitchen? Thankfully Tommy lived in another city and couldn’t be the culprit. She fought off a wave of guilt for thinking ill of her own child even if he was middle aged. Surely he did the best he could? He didn’t seem to be into horses and wild women, but he was back in the Midwest while she took the sun in the south.

The condo treasurer, Lois had called with a question. Blanche sighed at the mirror. She had been the treasurer of the condo association for years and the new treasurer couldn’t sharpen her pencil without calling Blanche first. And Al had called and said he had big news.

Al lived in 202. He walked with two canes and told people he was wounded in the war. The Korean War. It didn’t take an orthopedist to realize he had arthritis, but all the ladies let him tell it his way.

It’s me, Al. Blanche licked her teeth and concentrated on her red corded phone.

I saw her.

You don’t mean it? The new girl in 209? Blanche hated to admit she was jealous. She still hadn’t seen the girl just heard the rumors.

Yeah. She looks like anybody. You know, plain. Kind of poor looking though. If she didn’t act slinky, you wouldn’t notice her at all. You know. Almost invisible. Al breathed heavy on the phone like it was an effort to hold it and talk at the same time.

What’d you do?

I was hanging around by the elevator watching for her.

Al, you are no longer allowed to call me nosy. Hanging around by the elevator! Look at you.

You want to hear this or not?

Alright, go on. He loved to beat her to a juicy story.

I heard a door, so I went around the corner and walked toward the elevators like I was just comin’ you know. I swear to you she punched the button. I said, ‘Hello there,’ and she looked right at me and moved to the stairs and was gone.

Ahh, I wish you’d followed her.

Well, with my...

Oh, never mind your war wounds. That was it?

Well, yeah. He sounded put out that she wasn’t more impressed.

Hmm. So what are we going to do?

Do? Blanche, tone it down, woman. She isn’t trying to blow anything up. She’s just secretive.

You’re the one spying on her, besides I don’t like sneakiness in our condo, Blanche said.

This is in our condo where we live. You know? We gotta be careful not to get carried away. The president will change the condo bylaws to exclude nosy people.

No, seriously, Al. Listen, I got burgled this morning while I was at the beauty shop.

What? Why didn’t you say something?

Well, I just did. I only got back from the police station a few minutes ago.

You should have called. I could look around your condo. You know. Blanche smiled. Poor Al wanted to be essential, canes or not. It did raise her hackles. She should look under the beds for bad guys. Surely they’d have escaped while she was at the police station, but if she didn’t look under the beds soon it would bother her when it got dark.

Listen. I talked to Alice and something is going on. I’m the third burglary in the condo that we know of. I don’t know if it has anything to do with sneaky Miss 209, but I want to get to the bottom of this. No one is going to rob us in our beds and no one do anything. That girl seems suspicious.

What’d the police say at the station?

Nothing at all. I’m going to have to resort to my police department connections to see if I can get them to look into the robberies more.

Connections? You hand out informational pamphlets at the mall.

I know Sharon from our other adventures. Besides, maybe someone could interview this sneaky new young woman.

You can’t do that. She hasn’t done anything.

A crash in her ear told Blanche Al had dropped the phone. A frequent occurrence. He preferred phones with cords so no one could listen, but he was always getting tangled up. Sorry, dropped my hat. The ever present fishing hat, even when he’s home alone. Blanche smiled to herself.

He continued in an I-know-better-than-you attitude. Look here, Blanche. I saw real espionage stuff in the war and this is not it. I’m as nosy as the next retiree, but you can’t sick the police on the girl. You know. They have enough to do in southern Florida without crack pots like us calling on their neighbors.

Humph. Don’t make me mad, Al Davison. I’ll talk to whomever I please. Besides didn’t you just hear me? Someone is burgling condos in Seaside Flats including mine. And practically every Sip Trip, Snag N Bag, and every other convenience store within four blocks has been robbed.

Oh.

Ha. Points for Blanche. Besides Sharon likes me. I’m good for her PR.

Okay, well, I want to come along and watch anyway. Don’t leave me out.

Blanche had a snack of creamy peanut butter and saltine crackers and decided to track down Sharon the public spokesperson for the police department.

Like a good neighbor, right?

The situation reminded Blanche of her working days. Sometimes she would leave work thinking she’d finished a project and something would keep niggling away in the back of her mind. Then she’d realize something she’d forgotten to do or an addition that should be made. It was that kind of feeling. Something was amiss somewhere.

Chapter Two

The humidity seeped through the open bay doors of the metal building and permeated the stuffy warehouse. Alina had been summoned to the office. She walked through rows of women stuffing bags and boxes with t-shirts and dishtowels of poor quality. She pretended to only look at her filthy canvas shoes. In the next section, women slotted kitchen gadgets into boxes. Alina knew she’d had better quality kitchen utensils in her own home once upon a time. A radio played pop music from a crackly speaker. The women did not speak. It was discouraged. It might slow down the work. A beefy bald man watched over the work and kept order with a twitch of his eyes.

At the back of the dusty industrial warehouse, Alina straightened her stained t-shirt and tried to stand up taller. She pushed open the grimy door to the office. The man at the abused metal desk seemed too big for the room. Muscles bulged out from under the short sleeve of his Lacoste shirt. He glanced up from a laptop computer that looked tiny next to him. Alina had never owned one and wondered if she ever would. She looked down at the floor.

We are going to have to take more of your paycheck each week to pay for your debt, Sergiu spoke in Romanian which was Alina’s native language.

I’m already sending money to Vasile and I barely have enough to eat as it is, Alina said in a firm voice, but still couldn’t look him in the eye.

You knew when you agreed to come that you would have to pay back all the costs of bringing you here.

Alina shifted from foot to foot. She did know, but it hadn’t been clear what the situation would be. She had deep regrets already.

Sergiu continued speaking, Plus there’s the apartment and the car. It’s a substantial cost, so you can see why we need to take more of your paycheck.

No one ever explained this. It’s not fair.

His tone hardened. You agreed to come.

I want to go back.

He tapped a pencil on the scarred desk top. Tap, tap, tap. Pause. Tap, tap, tap.

One of the factory women knocked on the door and stuck her head in. I, we, uhm, the order for New Jersey is ready.

I told you, don’t interrupt when I have someone in here.

The woman jumped visibly and shut the door with a thump.

Sergiu turned his dark gaze back to Alina.

You know what it is like back home. No jobs, no money. You’ll never pay this debt back in Romania. It will hang over you your entire life. We only took you on as a favor because of your husband.

Am I supposed to be grateful that I’m away from my family starving to death? She bit her lip as soon as the bitter words left her mouth.

He hardened further. We don’t buy tickets for going back. You can do that yourself, when you’re done with your debt. We won’t stop you.

His tone became conciliatory. Look, you’re one of the lucky ones. Some of the women have to sleep here at the factory. You have an apartment. Maybe you could help us. We will move some women in to help cover the costs.

But where will my daughter sleep when she comes if the other women fill the apartment?

We can figure that out later. Maybe we can find you another job. Many of the women are working more than one.

Alina nodded. Working weird night hours left her feeling weak and dizzy, but she knew Sergiu didn’t care about that. Just the precious money. Why had she ever thought the US was a place of escape? She was dismissed from the office.

Sergiu picked up the phone. He wiped sweat off his forehead and dialed a long distance number. He needed to see if Vasile would let him put some air conditioning in the dusty office. I just talked to Cosmin’s wife. It went better than I expected. She seems afraid to make waves so far.

Did you have to make any threats? Vasile asked.

No. So far she seems to believe it is all legitimate. I haven’t had to mention the kid yet, but she’s on her mind for sure. She thinks we’re bringing the kid soon.

Don’t let her talk to anyone. Cosmin always said she was smart.

But they’re all the same when they arrive. Overwhelmed, ignorant, and naive.

Like you, huh, Sergiu? Vasile laughed on his end of the line.

Sergiu sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. Images he’d rather not remember flashed through his mind.Not for long though, boss.

Good work down there. I don’t regret sending you to Florida so far. The authorities giving you any trouble?

Not so far. Your arrangement seems to be working. Cosmin’s wife is easily managed and I have a load ready.

Good, good. Have the girls load the container and put them in with the shipment. The truck will come tomorrow morning.

This too brought a flash of smells and suffocating memories to Sergiu who shut it out of his mind. Where do I ship it to?

I’ll take care of that. Just have it ready. How many women?

22.

I’ll get the shipping papers ready. Good job, Sergiu. I knew I could trust you.

Sergiu put a sleeping tablet in each bottle of water and carried the box out into the warehouse. When the shift was over and the few dailies had left. Sergiu gathered the 22 women.

Your papers were denied. We have to move you to another factory secretly. You’ll need to get into the container and by tomorrow night you’ll be somewhere safe again. He didn’t know if he was lying and that they weren’t being shipped across country for days. Obviously Vasile didn’t trust him or he would have told him where it was going. Vasile kept the left hand not knowing what the right hand was doing.

He heard the collective groan, but they were well in hand. They had no papers, no passports, no identity and hadn’t been here long enough to know where they were. This base in southern Florida would make a good distribution site to the other places. They were a short haul to the railroad tracks and the highway. So many airports were near they could vary the ingress each time to avoid suspicion from immigration or the competing mafias in Miami.

He knew what the inside of those containers were like. A taste of hell. He handed them water as they loaded peacefully into the container and he pad locked it closed. The next stop would not be as pleasant. It would make a sweaty warehouse in Florida look like paradise.

Chapter Three

Blanche could see Sharon through the glass in the reception area of the police department’s lobby, a redheaded tall woman in a dark pantsuit reaching for her ringing telephone that the receptionist called. Sharon left her office and came to the glass divider. She cracked the door and motioned Blanche back.

You were my best PR work yet, Blanche Binkley. The story on you and Al rescuing the intracoastal waterway...it made the retirees in town happy, and made the department look friendly. It was beautiful.

Glad I could make your job easier.

Sharon chuckled. Are you enjoying your volunteer work with the department?

I’d like to get my hands more dirty than the Town Center kiosk but it’s a start to my police career. She winked at Sharon.

They settled into the cantina with cups of machine coffee.

What can I do for you today? Sharon asked.

Blanche wanted to try to use the system in place without breaking the rules, but she needed more information in order to move forward.

Condos in our building are getting robbed, and I was curious about the Sip Trip and other convenience store burglaries in the area. Maybe the two are related?

Well, there’s not much to tell... Sharon said.

I gathered that from the news reports. Blanche didn’t mince words.

Sharon grimaced. Okay, there’s a little more than that. Why do you want to know?

All three were within a few miles of Seaside Flats. Plus the robberies in our condo, I think I should have a meeting of the Condo Watch Committee. Blanche gave her a sideways pink lipstick smile. It had to sound like it had some official connection or she’d get no information at all, minor police celebrity or no.

Okay, the woman robbing convenience stores is believed to be an illegal alien, but has been very careful with surveillance cameras, so she must be fairly intelligent and well informed. Our sources among the illegals tell us they don’t know who it is.

She, huh? How much money is she getting? Blanche said. Uh, oh. Could this be Miss 209?

That’s the odd thing. She’s getting really piddly amounts, $50, $85, $102. Not enough to risk your neck over.

No. Or going to a Florida jail. Couldn’t an illegal make more money at a regular no-green-card job during the day? The robber in my condo got more than that from my kitchen counter. Is it a drug addict with those small change robberies?

The robber is acting too coherent and systematic for drugs, but it’s always a possibility. Sometimes illegals are taken advantage of and the employers only pay them a fraction of what they should make. Who are they going to complain to? Immigration?

I hadn’t thought of that. I guess that’s right. Blanche stared off thoughtfully.

Are you on someone’s case, Blanche? Have you seen something? Sharon smiled into her plastic coffee cup before she sipped.

I’ve just noticed somebody acting weird, but I haven’t seen her doing anything that I could report. Besides, I don’t even know if she’s an illegal alien.

They come in all shapes and sizes, Blanche.

We have so many nationalities in our building, I ought to know, I guess. Blanche polished off her coffee and thanked Sharon.

It was intriguing that the robberies seemed to be a lone woman. The girl in 209 seemed to be on her own too and going out at odd hours. She couldn’t exclude Miss 209 from the suspect list yet she hadn’t been seen slinking around the halls of the condo, so the condo burglaries fit her less than the gas station robberies. Blanche definitely needed to dig further.

Chapter Four

Blanche stopped at Publix grocery store and bought milk on her way home and figured she was in for the day. Darn Canadians and all the other snowbirds in traffic drove her nuts. She sat out on her screened in balcony that faced towards the ocean, only she couldn’t see it because it was a mile away. The condo was Seaside in name only, not in reality. She lit up a cigarette and contemplated the high rise condos across the parking lot. She could hear the mild breeze rattling the palmetto palms that dotted the parking lot corners below. The flowering shrubs around the pool were sprouting red and white flowers at the moment, and she imagined she could smell them even on the fourth floor.

The gas station robberies and her 209 may not be connected. She didn’t want to think that someone would bring anything unsavory into the building. It was hard enough to keep a nice condo going in southern Florida with crime and high turn over of residents, never mind having to worry if you had a burglar on the loose or a robber living down the hall. Her thoughts were swirling the ideas in her head. She was uncomfortable with the direction her thoughts took. Maybe she and Al could follow Miss 209 tonight. Just the idea of going out at night made her light another cigarette.

Night being the operative word. Harry, her husband, God rest his soul, when he departed this world, left her with a strange phobia. She’d developed a hyper fear of the dark. She knew it was odd, and it soaked her energy at times.

She just wasn’t going to put up with getting her hard earned funds taken from her own home without some further action though. It wasn’t just for her sake either. The condo needed protection. She shook her bouffant hair from side to side, then padded inside to the telephone, her tool.

Al, let’s follow her tonight.

You want to do a little reconnaissance, huh?

She crushed out the filter of her cigarette in a crystal purple ashtray she kept by the phone. In the car, she does drive, doesn’t she?

Actually, I’m not sure. If it’s on foot, you’re on your own. I don’t think you’re going to find out much, but I could use a little adventure, you know? Al had no idea of her phobia. No one did. Knowing Al, he’d try to play Prince Charming to the rescue.

What time has she been going out? About 11 p.m.?

That’s about right. Sometime while I’m getting ready for bed anyway.

You make some coffee and meet me at 10:30 p.m. We’ll watch the door and the parking lot.

Yes, sir. Al chuckled. I think you’re barking up the wrong tree this time, but it should be fun to tag along and say I told you so.

You’re the one lurking around by the elevator on the second floor.

I just wanted to get a look at the new resident, not convict her of a crime.

Let’s hope there’s no crime to speak of tonight.

Blanche surveyed her closet. It was full of nylon designer gym suits, white elastic waist shorts and lavender shirts. She selected a black gym suit with gold stars, one of her tamer color combos. Should be good for reconnaissance as Al called it. She retrieved her county and south Florida maps, just in case. She’d like a belt of something to brave the dark, but she’d have to stiff upper lip it since Al didn’t drive anymore. She could feel sweat forming on her upper lip. She patted it dry and added some lipstick. This seemed like a bad idea now, but no backing out and losing face.

She knew it wasn’t safe for a lone woman in the parking lot after dark just from statistics; the phobia wasn’t as logical as that unfortunately. Darkness could be inside and outside of a person. She fortified herself with several deep breaths to calm down. She was on a mission and she had Al. He could beat the bad guys with his canes.

They met at the backdoor by the pool and Al shimmied on his canes out to the car with a thermos under his arm and binoculars around his neck. Blanche lit a cigarette.

I haven’t seen her yet, so our timing is good. I’m going to pull up on the side of the building, so we can see if she comes out the other way, Blanche said.

Good thinking, sergeant. What if she sees us? Do we pretend to be kids making out?

Blanche rolled her eyes.

You always smoke more when we go out at night. He waved his hat at a cloud. What’s with that?

You’re imagining things, old man.

Hey!

They didn’t have long to wait. Ms. 209 came out and got into a beat up ancient Toyota and took off.

So that’s what she’s driving. Here take this paper and write down the license number, Blanche bossed.

I can’t make it out. You know?

That’s why we don’t let you drive, Al. It’s BY9 541...I think. I’ll double check at the next stoplight. Concentrating on the Toyota in the streetlights relieved her racing heartbeat. It felt good to do something about the robbery. At least that’s what she told herself.

They followed the Toyota to an industrial park. A couple cars pulled into a warehouse parking lot, so did 209. Blanche slid up on the street outside the fence and shut the car lights off. She was glad for a nearby streetlight to split some of the dark. Al trained his binoculars on the girl.

What do you see, Al?

She’s just going into the building. Probably works here. He pulled the binoculars down and gave Blanche a funny grin as 209 disappeared into the warehouse.

Let’s drink our coffee and see if anything happens.

Happens? She’s going to work, what do you think happens at work? You haven’t been retired that long, you know?

Blanche ignored him and took the lid off the Thermos.

I shoulda brought some cards. You know?

After a few minutes silence, Blanche focused the binoculars on the building, scanning. She heard Al’s heavy breathing and realized he was asleep. So much for the coffee. She steadied her shaking elbows on the car door. In the second loading bay of the warehouse, she saw 209 and another woman. They didn’t speak at all. It struck Blanche as odd. The beginning of