I Spy a Courtyard Casanova
By J.J. Brass
3/5
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About this ebook
I Spy a Courtyard Casanova is the third book in The Courtyard Clairvoyant Mysteries, a small-town paranormal cozy mystery series featuring a great cast of LGBTQIA characters!
Elise Golden’s peaceful existence is turned upside-down when Rex, her former fiancé, shows up to lease the flat above hers. Meanwhile, the death of one of the oldest residents throws the courtyard into turmoil. Apparently George Miller liked the neighbour ladies enough to leave them the vast majority of his worldly possessions—and nothing at all for his wife!
When George Miller’s many bequeathals are stolen, it’s up to Elise and her psychic eye to track down whodunit. The investigation leads her down an unexpected path into the greedy world of fraud and art forgery.
J.J. Brass
Mystery! Comedy! Murder...
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I Spy a Courtyard Casanova - J.J. Brass
Book Three
By J.J. Brass
One
It was a rare event when almost every tenant on the courtyard engaged in the same activity at the same time, but this was the case Tuesday morning as the regulars dressed in black for George Miller’s funeral
In Elise Golden’s ground-floor flat, her niece, Val, sat at the edge of the bed wearing an uncharacteristically subdued outfit: black trousers and a black shell with fitted jacket. No sign of the usual studded belts or wallet chains. Even her purple hair was coifed in a way that lessened its usual impact.
Even after going to all the trouble of getting dressed, Val still whined about the prospect of attending a stranger’s burial. Do I have to go to this thing, Auntie? I never even met the guy. That old bag kept him cooped up in their flat the whole time I’ve lived here!
Dressed in a black sweater set and long wool skirt, Elise stepped inside her niece’s bedroom. Let’s try to show Mrs. Miller a bit of compassion on the day of her husband’s funeral.
But she’s so awful, and she hates everybody!
I know, doll. We’ll go back to despising her tomorrow. But, just for today, let’s be nice.
Be nice to the woman who ripped the rainbow pride flag off my wheelchair?
Val grumbled as she tried her best to bend forward and elevate one leg. Finally, she gave up and collapsed on her bed with a growl. I hate this! Yesterday I could put on my socks just fine. Today I can’t even reach my feet!
Not to worry,
Elise said simply. I’ll do it for you.
Thanks, Auntie.
Val handed over a pair of black socks and sighed. Sometimes I feel like I’m moving backwards, you know? Instead of recovering, I’m just getting worse.
You’re not getting worse, doll.
Elise kneeled on the floor beside her niece’s bed. Think back to the state you were in right after your stroke: you couldn’t walk at all. Now you can get around the house on crutches. You couldn’t communicate verbally, not in a way that other people could understand.
Yeah, now I just sound drunk all the time,
Val said with maudlin humour. And I still choke on my food if I talk while I’m eating.
Let that be a lesson to you,
Elise quipped. Don’t talk with your mouth full.
Once Val’s socks were on her feet, the girl extended her hands and Elise grabbed them to haul her to a sitting position.
Do you want me to call Dr. Indira?
Elise asked.
No,
Val grumbled as she grabbed Elise’s elbow and allowed her aunt to escort her to the front door. I just need to try harder at physio, that’s all. You can’t get comfortable. That’s what I’ve learned. You can’t let things slide, or this is what happens.
Elise felt very pleased that her young niece had finally come to that realization. She grabbed her purse while Val slid into the power chair she used to get around outside the flat. Walking was okay around the house, but the girl’s muscles couldn’t yet bear too much exertion.
When Elise watched her niece insert the key into the power chair’s locking mechanism, she considered also locking her front door, but why bother? Nobody on the Courtyard locked their doors and, anyway, most tenants would be attending George Miller’s funeral. The only ones who might give it a miss would be the commuters, the tenants who worked in the city and spent so much time in their cars or on trains that by the time they got home they lacked the energy to interact with their neighbours.
Across the way, Gloria was just leaving her flat. She and her husband, Bruno, both waved from across the courtyard. Their daughter Julieta raced across the cobbles with an 18-year-old smile on her face and six-inch heels on her feet. Hey, you guys. Mama and Papa have been fighting all morning. I can’t listen to one more minute of it! Can I walk with you?
Glancing at Val’s chair, she said, Well, I’ll walk, you roll.
We’ll walk-and-roll,
Elise laughed to herself.
We’ll all walk, metaphorically,
Val suggested.
Julieta said, How about you metaphorically walk and I’ll metaphorically drive and your aunt can metaphorically fly an invisible airplane?
Like Wonder Woman!
Elise joined in, crouching in her invisible cockpit and grabbing hold of the invisible controls. Wonder Woman, you are cleared for take-off!
You ladies seem to be having far too much fun,
said a male voice from behind Elise’s back. It was so familiar she felt a sense of sheer dread as she turned to find out who was speaking.
Val piped up to say, "Ladies is such an outdated, anti-feminist term to throw at three women you’ve never even met. Get educated, dude."
Oh, but I have met one of you,
the gentleman declared as Elise looked up into his eyes. Good to see you, Elise Golden. It’s been far too long.
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t swallow, couldn’t even breathe. The individual standing before her was a handsome older gentleman—well, older
meaning a man her own age—but when she gazed into his eyes, she saw the boy this man used to be, and the woman she once was.
Will you excuse us?
Elise stammered. We’re just on our way to a funeral.
My condolences,
the man offered. I’m supposed to meet someone called Tom. Don’t tell me you live around here.
Oh yes, yes, lived here for years,
Elise said as she subtly pressed Julieta and Val toward the gate. Tom is the landlord. I would have thought he’d be joining us for the funeral, considering it was one of his tenants who died.
I see.
The handsome gentleman glanced at his watch. Well, I’m a few minutes early. I don’t mind waiting. Seems like a perfectly enchanted place to live, this courtyard of yours.
Yes, it is. Perfectly enchanted. Fairies in the garden, bluebirds in the trees, all that.
Wonderful, because I’m here to view the rental flat that’s just come on the market. Imagine that, Elise Golden.
He offered a seductive smile. After all these years, we could be neighbours.
Oh, good,
Elise replied far too loudly. She was practically racing across the cobbles with her niece and neighbour in tow as she shouted, Good! Great! See you later, maybe!
Once they’d cleared the gate, Julieta said, Hold up! I can’t run in these shoes.
As Julieta grabbed Val’s shoulder for balance, Val asked, "Who was that guy, Auntie?"
Yeah,
Julieta asked. Who’s the silver fox?
From a safe distance, Elise peeked between Gloria’s house and the one next door. Once she was sure he no longer had the three of them in view, Elise admitted to the girls, That man is the incomparable Rex Sorensen. We were engaged to be married, once.
You were engaged?
Val asked with a laugh. To that ladies’ man back there?
Elise nodded uncomfortably.
What happened?
Juliet asked cautiously.
Taking a deep, long breath, Elise told the girls, I left him at the altar.
Two
Elise had never been comfortable with funerals. The death of a loved one, or even an acquaintance, filled her with sadness, but the prospect of showing strong emotion by, goodness forfend, crying in public filled her with equal parts terror and trepidation. In a way, she envied Gloria, who let it all hang out—emotionally, that is.
During George Miller’s funeral, Elise had the opportunity for mental escape, though she wasn’t sure whether her thoughts were preferable to the droning on of business associates Mr. Miller had worked with thirty years ago.
What thoughts played so powerfully on Elise’s mind? Thoughts of Rex Sorensen, of course. What else could she think about after bumping into a man she’d left at the altar