Chapter 12 Arnie joins the game

Fifteen minutes into the game every one of the women had swallowed a pill and downed at least one glass of wine. Not to mention Sylvie’s magic brownies. It didn’t have a noticeable effect on any of them.

“I see your one and raise you two,” Mae said.

Sylvie called Mae’s bet.

“Kaulana,” Francesca said. “It eez your bet.”

“I fold,” Kaulana said.

“Why are you folding before you take any cards?” Tiare asked her.

“Because I know I’m gonna lose this hand,” Kaulana said with a glance at Sylvie. “Why should I give away more of my pills on a losing hand?”

“You don’t know that,” Coralee said. “Sylvie could be bluffing.”

Kaulana shook her head and lay down her cards. Everyone else called Sylvie’s bet.

“How many cards, Tiare?” Francesca asked.

“Two.”

“Vee-oh-lette?”

“Give me three.”

Coralee took three cards.

I took three and ended up with a pair of sevens.

Mae took one, Sylvie took two, and Francesca took three.

It was Tiare’s bet. She pushed a white caplet into the center. “One Ambien.”

Violet and Coralee called. I folded. Sylvie saw the bet and raised her two more. Violet and Coralee folded. Francesca and Tiare saw the bet. They showed their cards. Tiare had three Jacks. Francesca had a pair of sixes and a pair of queens.

Sylvie revealed a pair of aces. “I win!”

“No, Sylvie,” Tiare said, scraping the pile of pills to her side of the table. “Three of a kind beats a pair.”

“But—no fair!”

Tiare was already dealing the next hand.

“Deal me in,” came a man’s voice behind me.

The women all smiled at Arnie as he settled across from me in the only empty chair—presumably Pearl’s place at the table.

His gaze locked on me as he scooted the chair in and set a cut crystal glass of amber liquid on the table. “You girls’ve been holding out on me. Who’s the new hottie?”

Smiles dropped. The women stabbed me with lethal stares.

Kaulana finally spoke. “Arnie, you remember Lillian.”

Arnie shook his head. “Can’t say I do. I’d never forget a face like this.” He winked at me, leaned back in his chair, took a swig of his drink.

Violet was the first to recover, plastering a fake smile across her face. “Arnie, let me fill a plate for you,” she drawled in a syrupy southern accent. She scurried to the bar, drawing glares from the other women.

“What’s the ante?” Arnie asked.

Tiare said, “One regular strength pill.”

“Sorry, no pills for me.” He tapped his forehead. “Gotta keep the ol’ mind sharp.” He took out his wallet and threw a ten dollar bill into the center of the table.

Violet returned with a plate of food for Arnie while Sylvie dealt.

“What are those little red pills?” Arnie asked.

“Lillian brought stool softeners,” Mae volunteered.

Arnie gave me a grin, then picked up his cards and studied them. He kept up a good poker face. He played conservatively, winning some hands, folding on others.

Between hands, Francesca stood. “I go bazzroom.”

By the time she returned, we’d built up a good-sized pot. Instead of taking her seat, she moved in behind Arnie, leaning over him to study his cards. With one deft move, her hands were on his shoulders, kneading them with strong fingers.

Arnie froze, his eyes growing wide.

A minute passed, maybe two, while Francesca massaged Arnie’s muscles, ignoring seething glares from Violet, Tiare, Kaulana, and Sylvie. I sensed Coralee and Mae bristling on either side of me.

Arnie snapped out of his shock and lay down his cards. “I’m out.” He ducked under Francesca’s arm, out of her grip. He pocked his cash, left the pills he’d won on the table. Glass in hand, he hurried out the door and disappeared into the night.

Francesca took her seat.

“What’d you do that for, Francesca?” Coralee demanded.

“We were enjoying his company,” Violet said, her southern accent gone.

““Belief me what I say. He like it,” Francesca said with a knowing smile.

“C’mon, everybody ante,” Tiare said. “Deal the cards, Coralee.”

While Coralee dealt, I covered a big yawn. I was down to my last four stool softeners, but had a collection of drugs that would fetch a decent price on the street if I ever decided to sell them. “After this hand I’m gonna to have to call it a night,” I said.

“You can’t leave now,” Violet said. “You need to give us a chance to win back what we lost.”

That was precisely my plan. Hopefully I could lose the whole lot of pills in the next hand. I checked the time on my phone. A little after ten. “Okay, ladies. This is your chance. It’s way past my bedtime.” I had a pair of eights, a pair of aces, and a three. “I bet three,” I said, selecting a brown thirty milligram Oxycontin and adding it to the pot.

“She’s bluffing,” Mae said. “I see your three and raise you one.”

Tiare, Kaulana, and Sylvie folded. Francesca, Mae, Violet, Coralee, and I saw Mae’s bet.

I lay my three face-down. “I’ll take one card.”

I took a peek at the card Coralee dealt me. An eight. My competitive side—the part of me that loves to win—kicked in. I held back a grin and tried not to yell hoo boy!

“Give me three cards,” Mae said.

Francesca knuckled the table. She was standing pat. Either she had a made hand or she was bluffing.

It was my bet. I pushed four random pills into the pot. “Four.”

“I vill see your four und raise you one Adderall,” Francesca said, adding her pills to the pile. Her pale blue eyes bored into me.

Violet saw the bet, but looked worried.

Coralee lay her cards down. “Too rich for my blood.”

“I’ll see your Ambien and raise you three stool softeners.” I said.

Francesca and I eyed each other. What she didn’t know was that I planned to lose as many pills to her as I could. “I see your stool softeners und raise you four.”

I was falling asleep. It was time to end this. “I call.”

Francesca had a pair of jacks and a pair of sixes. 

Oops. “Full house,” I whispered.

The others watched me rake the pile of drugs across the table and plunk them into my pill bottle. I shoved the rest into my pocket and stood. “I’m sorry but I really have to leave.”

“Next time,” Tiare warned, “we’re going to win those back from you.”

I was barely out the door when I heard Tiare hiss, “Follow her. See where she goes.”

Footsteps echoed behind me. I pivoted. Kaulana stood on the walkway, holding the remaining half of her Bundt cake. “Lillian,” she said. “Please take this with you. We won’t finish it.”

“Oh, thank you. Mahalo. That’s sweet of you.” I took the cake from her and headed home on wobbly legs.

After unlocking the door, I chanced a look back at the clubhouse. Kaulana stood at the entrance, watching me. I gave her a nod, went into my condo, and closed the door behind me.

Why had Tiare sent Kaulana after me? Where did she think I be headed to?

 

 

 

Chapter 11 Poker for Pills

Officer Martin had barely cleared the door when Tiare said, “Okay, ladies. We’re behind schedule. Let’s get this show on the road.”

She hurried behind the bar and opened the fridge. The other women moved in to help bring out the food and set it on the bar, buffet-style.

“Can I do something?” I asked the room in general.

“Here.” Violet handed me a bag of potato chips and a bowl of creamy-looking dip. “Set these out.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t bring anything,” I said. “I didn’t know—”

“That’s okay,” Tiare said. “Tonight, you’re our guest.”

Romy made his way toward the door. “Enjoy the game, ladies.”

“Good night, everybody,” Esther waved, following right behind Romy.

“Esther?” I said with a touch of desperation in my voice. “Aren’t you staying?”

She stopped and turned around. “Gamblin’s against my religion. I’m gonna call it a early night. But you all have fun.”

Gambling is technically against my religion, too. But we weren’t playing for money, so that probably made it less of a sin. I could hardly back out now after I’d promised Tiare and Violet. I stifled a resigned sigh. “Okay. Goodnight, Esther.”

“I’ll be up till ten,” Romy called from the doorway. “Let me know if you ladies need anything.”

“Thanks, Romy. Goodnight,” a few of the women called to his retreating back.

Francesca deftly uncorked two bottles of white wine while the other women finished setting up the buffet. Everyone lined up and started filling paper plates. Tonight’s fare was finger food: chips and dip, edamame, sushi, chicken wings, carrot and celery sticks, slices of Kaulana’s Bundt cake, and more of Sylvie’s brownies.

I grabbed a brownie and bit into it while I worked my way down the food line. I had a feeling I was going to need it.

The women settled around the large oval poker table. Tiare pointed to an empty chair “Lillian, you can sit in Imogene’s place.”

“No,” said Coralee. “I want Lillian next to me so I can show her how to play.”

“But that’s my seat,” Sylvie said.

“Go sit in Imogene’s seat,” Coralee ordered.

Sylvie said, “But I don’t want—”

“Quit your whining, Sylvie,” Tiare barked. “Maybe a different place at the table will change your luck.”

“Come, Lillian,” Coralee said, patting the chair beside her. “I’ll explain the rules as we go.”

Pouting, Sylvie lowered herself onto a chair at one end of the table. I sat between Coralee on my left and Mae on my right. One chair, presumably Pearl’s, remained empty. Friendly banter flew back and forth as wine bottles were passed and glasses filled.

Mae leaned to me and said, “Did you try the teriyaki wings, Lillian?”

“Oh—I’m a vegetarian.”

“Seriously?” Violet asked. “You don’t eat any meat?”

Coralee said, “I don’t know how you can do that. I’d starve without protein.”

There was no used pointing out that all plant material is protein.

“In Germany vee eat meat three times a day,” Francesca said, making fast work of a chicken wing and leaving the bones on the side of her plate.

Violet passed a wine bottle to Coralee.

“Chardonnay, Lillian?” Coralee asked.

“Thank you.”

She filled a glass for me and passed the bottle on.

Tiare extracted a well-used deck of cards from her purse. “Let’s play.” She plunked an orange plastic prescription bottle onto the table.

Coralee got out two similar bottles. I tried to peer at the labels, but couldn’t make out the small print.

Kaulana, Tiare, and Mae set out prescription bottles. Francesca and Sylvie must’ve been the big winners in previous games. They each had quart-size Ziplocs filled with dozens of multi-colored tablets and capsules.

Eying the quantity of drugs that had appeared on the table made me recall what the detective said about Pearl. She’d had a significant amount of Valium in her system when she died—and she’d been drinking. Had she won the drug at a poker game?

“What’ve you got, Lillian?” Coralee asked.

“Huh?”

“What kind of pills did you bring?”

“Oh—let me get them.”

The women fell silent, all eyes on me as I rummaged through my purse. “The only prescription I have is for stool softeners,” I said with an embarrassed shrug, producing a small white bottle. “Left over from a small surgery—”

Everyone chimed in at once: Oh wow … Wonderful … That’s perfect … Fantastic … Exactly what we need …

Above the chatter, Coralee said, “I’m gonna win me some of those.”

“Me too,” said Sylvie, patting her Ziploc. “All these benzos have me backed up something awful.”

“You’re not kidding,” said Violet.

“Ante up,” Tiare said, pushing a white caplet to the center of the table. “Percocet.”

Francesca said, “Zanax,” around the chicken wing she was gnawing and added another pill to the kitty.

Kaulana put in a small yellow tablet. “I’m not sure what this one is.”

Sylvie selected a small white pill from her Ziploc and added it to the others. “Oxycontin.” She popped a pill into her mouth and swallowed it with a slug of wine. I hoped it was just an aspirin. Mixing marijuana edibles, prescription drugs, and alcohol couldn’t be a good idea. No one else took notice.

Before I could say anything to Sylvie, Coralee turned to me. “This is how it works. Regular strength pills count as one. Double and triple strength count as two and three, and so on.”

Between the magic brownie and the glass of wine, my concentration wasn’t all it could’ve been. I nodded as if I understood, figuring I’d catch on as the game progressed. Or not.

“For example,” she explained, “blue Adderals are double the dosage so they’re worth two. White Oxycontin are three, the yellow Oxycontin four, and so on.” She stuck a pill in her mouth and washed it down, draining her wineglass. She poured herself a refill and topped off my glass.

“How am I supposed to remember all that?” I muttered.

“Don’t worry about it,” Violet said, swallowing one of her pills with a hefty slug of wine. “After a few games you’ll start to recognize all the pills.”

“Suzie Q,” said Mae, pushing a small white tablet to the center of the table.

“What’s a Suzie Q?” I asked.

“Seroquel,” Tiare answered.

Seroquel, I  knew, was for schizophrenia. If the Suzie Q’s had been prescribed for Mae, she should probably be taking them and not passing them around in a poker game. I glanced at her prescription bottle, which held an assortment of different colored and shaped pills. All I could make out on the label was the name Masako Ita.

Coralee reached for the pill Mae had anteed and showed it to me. “See, these are easy. It says right on the pill what it is, along with the dosage. Not all of them are all like that, but you’ll learn.”

I realized they were all waiting for me to ante. I opened my bottle and tipped a blood-red gel cap into my hand. “Stool softener,” I said as I added it to the colorful assortment of pills on the green felt tabletop.

Coralee and Violet anteed.

Tiare handed the cards to Coralee. “Shuffle.”

Coralee shuffled them with practiced moves and pushed the stack back to Tiare. Tiare passed them to Kaulana, on her left. “Cut.”.

 Kaulana cut the deck four times.

“First ace deals,” Tiare said. She dealt a card face up to each player until Francesca got an ace.

The deck was passed to Francesca. She allowed Kaulana on her left to shuffle the cards, and Tiare on her right to cut them.

“Zee game eez fife card draw,” Francesca said. She dealt five cards face-down to each player. I picked up each card as it was dealt to me, arranging them in order. My hand was scattered—four, six, seven, queen, ace.

No matter what anyone says, I don’t believe there’s any such thing as a ‘friendly’ game of poker. The game is based on deception. While there’s an element of random fate involved, over the course of an evening it’s usually the most cunning liar who walks away with the pot of gold—or in this case, the pile of pills.

Tiare added a pill to the kitty. “I bet one Klonopin.”

Violet called the bet with a Xanax.

“One Lexapro,” Coralee said, adding a white pill to the kitty.

I pushed a stool softener to the pile. “I call.”

I’m not the world’s best poker player, but I can hold my own. Which, I suppose, says something about my ability to lie when necessary. I subtly observed the women’s demeanors. Kaulana’s normally cheerful face fell as she studied her cards. Violet’s bright red bottom lip protruded in a pout. Sylvie squirmed with the giddiness of a five-year-old trying to keep a juicy secret. Tiare ran her tongue over her teeth. Coralee and Mae, on either side of me, were too close for me to see their faces but I sensed their still concentration. Francesca, directly across the table, caught me looking at her. She locked eyes with me and raised an eyebrow. Her face gave away nothing.

Any one of them could be acting. By the end of the night I’d have a better handle on their playing style, and a better idea which of them were the most practiced liars.

 

Chapter 10 You Are My Spirit Animal

In Foodland, Esther and I hit the produce section first.

“They sure have a good variety,” I said. “Everything looks so fresh.”

“I bet the prices are higher than in New York.”

“They certainly are.” I picked up a head of romaine lettuce with a price tag of $3.99. I put it in my cart, and chose the rest of my produce carefully, taking just enough to get by for the rest of the week—a few bananas, four tomatoes, one cucumber, one onion, and a bunch of purple seedless grapes

“You’ll get used to it in time,” Esther said, setting two apples and two oranges in her cart.

“I know I will. All things considered, it seems a small price to pay to live in Paradise.”

The bakery section held row after row of tempting pastries. “I prefer to do my own baking,” Esther said.

“I’ve never done much baking,” I said. “In Africa we had our own chef—”

“Wait a minute. Did I just hear you say you had your own chef?”

“As an American, I was expected to hire help from among the locals. We had a nanny, a chef, a maid, a gardener, and a chauffeur.

“Sounds like you lived real well there.”

“I suppose we did. But as their employers, we were obligated to support the entire family of each of our workers. Besides their salary, we paid for everything from their medical expenses to their children’s tuition. It was like adopting several dozen people. If we hadn’t done so, we would’ve been run out of town. Or worse.

“In New York, there’s a bakery on every corner. I could get anything I wanted within easy walking distance. So I haven’t baked in a very long time, but I’d like to give it a try. I’m thinking I might bake a loaf of challah on Friday.”

“Then we need to get us to the baking aisle.”

She led me there and I added a small bag of flour and a packet of yeast to my cart.

“That’s all?” Esther asked.

 “This will be an experiment. If it goes well, I’ll buy more next time. Now I need eggs and butter.”

We each picked up a carton of eggs and a quart of milk, and I grabbed butter and a block of aged white cheddar. From the freezer section, Esther selected a half gallon of peanut butter fudge ice cream. Tempting as it was, I bypassed the desserts and I took a couple bags of frozen peas and broccoli.

On the way to the cashier, we passed an impressive selection of wine with several big sale signs. Many of the bottles were more than half off. If I bought enough wine, it could well make up for the high cost of my other groceries.

“Just a minute,” I said, pulling my cart up to the racks of wine.

I selected two lovely bottles of chardonnay. I was nestling them in the cart when I noticed a young woman standing three feet away, watching me intently. Startled, I took in her appearance. She wore yoga pants and a camisole top that exposed heavily tattooed arms. Her hair was a large mop of unruly brown curls. A small diamond stud sparkled on one side of her nose.

She eyed the contents of my cart, then met my eyes. She said, “You are my spirit animal. You must take me home with you.”

My mouth fell open. Before I could think of a word to utter, she laughed merrily and turned away, pushing her cart into the canned goods aisle.

“There’s a poker game tonight, Lillian,” I heard close behind me.

I whipped around to see Tiare and Violet standing almost shoulder-to-shoulder.

“Will you be joining us?” Tiare asked.

“The Neighborhood Watch meeting’s at six,” I said.

“As soon as that’s over, we’ll play.”

“I’m not much of a card player—”

“What kind of prescriptions are you on?” Violet interrupted.

“Me? Prescriptions?  I’m not real big on doctors or medications.”

“We play for pills,” Tiare said.

“Oh, sorry. I don’t take anything. I prefer to do my best and let nature take its course.” For once I was off the hook. Or so I thought.

“You must have something,” Violet said. “Pain killers from the dentist …”

I chuckled. “All I’ve got in my medicine cabinet is an old prescription stool softener—”

Their faces lit up. “Bring it!” Tiare and Violet said in unison.

***

Officer Wilfred Martin was wide in the hips and tired in the face. He had to be very near retirement age. Once everyone had settled in a semi-circle, he said, “Thank you ladies and gentlemen for coming. I know you all know each other, but let’s go around the room and each of you tell me your name.” He gave Romy a nod. “Let’s start with you, sir.”

“I’m Romy. I’m the building manager. This gentleman next to me is Arnie.”

“Tiare.”

“Coralee.”

“Mae.”

“Sylvie.”

“Vee-o-lette.”

“Kaulana.”

“Esther.”

I introduced myself last. “Lillian.”

“Very good,” said Officer Martin. “I understand there’ve been a series of thefts your building. And now, unfortunately, the death of your neighbor, Ms. Corvelli. I know you folks are scared. Rightly so. I want to commend you for taking this first step toward making your neighborhood a safer place.”

“It was Lillian’s idea,” Esther said.

There were a few murmurs of thanks and approval.

Officer Martin gave me a nod. “First let me tell you folks a little about Neighborhood Watch. It’s one of the oldest and most effective crime prevention programs in the country. The idea is to bring citizens like yourselves together with law enforcement to deter crime. Neighborhood Watch, to put it simply, is a network of neighbors keeping an eye out for each other. Citizen participation is one of the most effective tools against crime because the job of stopping burglary, robbery, or sexual assault—”

There were several gasps around the room. Eyes grew big, jaws dropped.

“Oh my god,” Violet said.

Coralee verbalized the question on all our minds. “Was Pearl sexually assaulted?”

“No, she was not,” said Officer Martin. He allowed the room to settle before continuing. “As I was saying, the police can’t be everywhere at once. Even if they happen to be passing by, they won’t recognize that a car, a truck, or people don’t belong in the area. However, you who live here will know if there are strangers around. You are the eyes and ears of the community. There have been many instances where good neighbors, people just like yourselves, have been instrumental in the apprehension of criminals simply by reporting suspicious activity. Any questions so far?”

Silence.

“Okay,” he continued. “Let’s turn to the first page of the pamphlet I gave you. Here it lists some of the things you’ll need to watch for.” He went over the bullet points.

*A person running from a residence or vehicle for no apparent reason

*Someone screaming for help

*Someone going door to door, or looking windows of homes or parked cars

*A person with seemingly no purpose, wandering around or loitering in the neighborhood

*A group gathering together to engage in a fight or otherwise apparent gang activity

*Unusual sounds such as breaking glass, door pounding, an alarm going off, or a gunshot

*A vehicle idling, just circling with no apparent destination, or driving without lights

*Any unknown person removing property from an unoccupied home or a closed business .

*A stranger, on foot or in a vehicle, stopping to talk to a child on the street .

*A child resisting the advances of an adult .

*A person selling or exchanging merchandise, conducting business out of their vehicle .

*A stranger entering a fenced yard or residence when unoccupied .

*Anyone sitting in a parked vehicle for an extended amount of time .

*Anyone removing accessories, license plates, or gasoline from a vehicle  

*A stranger removing appliances, electronics, carrying a garbage bag, pillow case, back-pack/satchel or other bundle, from a neighbor’s home .

“That’s a whole lot to remember,” Arnie said.

Officer Martin nodded. “I agree, it’s a lot of words. Simply put, you’ll want to be on the lookout for anything that seems suspicious. You’ll probably recognize what that is when you see it.

“Now everyone please take a look at the Suspect and Vehicle Description Checklist I gave you. You’ll need to have with you as you make your rounds of the neighborhood. If you see any of the things we talked about, fill out the sheet out as completely as possible. Not just the person’s height, weight, clothing, and hair color. Remember, clothing and hair can be changed. Also look for any distinguishing marks such as scars, injuries, tattoos … For vehicles, do your best to include the make, model, color, and license number. If you see a crime in progress, call 9-1-1 immediately.” He eyed each of us before saying, “Remember. You should never attempt to apprehend a suspect.”

“When do we get started?” Tiare asked.

“You can start tomorrow if you want. I suggest you set up a regular time to patrol, once or twice a week. I’ll meet with you again in a month and we can talk about how it’s going.”