Page 53 of A Spot of Trouble
Violet, obviously.
She lifted her chin. “Is there a problem over here?”
Sam’s stomach growled, and he prayed no one heard it. One of these days, he was going to get to eat one of her cupcakes, even if he had to do so in secret. “I’ve got it under control. Feel free to get back to serial killer pose.”
“You mean murder victim pose,” she said.
He rolled his eyes. “Of course. What was I thinking? Murder victim pose.”
“You haven’t answered my question. What’s going on over here?” Violet glanced back and forth between Sam and Ethel.
“Are you going to tell her or shall I?” Sam asked Ethel.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ethel shrugged. “I’m old, remember?”
“Ethel.” Violet jammed a hand on her slender hip—not that Sam was looking. “What did you do?”
“I believe she might have called in a false report.” Sam cleared his throat. “In an effort to get the two of us together in the same room.”
Violet gasped. “What?”
Ethel, still flat on her back on the floor, blinked up at them. “That’s not true. The sprinklers were acting up. They’ll probably start doing it again any minute.”
“You know that filing a false report is punishable by a fine, don’t you?” Sam said.
“Oh, goody. Another citation.” Violet shook her head. “I suppose I should be relieved it’s not me this time.”
“I have witnesses,” Ethel said primly.
“Let me guess—Opal and Mavis?” Violet shifted to face Sam. “Look, I’m sorry. They mean well. They really do. Please don’t give Ethel a ticket. I’ll talk to—”
Before she could finish, a gush of water exploded from the sprinkler directly overhead. Sam tried to jump backwards, out of its path, but he was too late. Water rained down, spraying both him and Violet from head to toe.
Sam was vaguely aware that they were the only two people being drenched, but he couldn’t be certain. He was having trouble tearing his attention away from a very stunned, very wet Violet March. Her strawberry-blonde waves clung to her face, and droplets of water starred her eyelashes. Sam could have drowned right then and there and he wouldn’t have cared.
Even so, out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw Opal Lewinsky and Mavis Hubbard poking a cane at the ceiling. But maybe that was just his imagination playing tricks.
***
“I tried to tell you there was something wrong with the sprinkler system,” Ethel said as Violet wiped water from her eyes.
A shiver coursed through Violet. She was freezing…and drenched to the bone. What had just happened?
She looked up at a flashing red light above her head. The culprit was situated mere inches away—a sprinkler head that slowed to a soggy drip as soon as Sam hopped onto a chair and somehow wrangled it into submission.
“Mavis. Opal.” Sam climbed back down and took a step toward them as water squished from his shoes. He sounded like he was walking around on wet sponges. “Did one or both of you just tamper with the sprinkler head?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Opal snorted, which meant she’d definitely just tampered with the sprinkler. She always snorted when she was telling a fib.
Violet had discovered this little quirk about her friend one night when she and the Charlie’s Angels had stayed up late playing poker and drinking frozen margaritas they’d made by spiking drinks from the senior center’s slushy machine. Never again. Her hangover the next morning was too much for all the Advil in the world to handle. Those women could drink Violet under the table.
“I didn’t see anything,” Hoyt Hooper said as he rolled up his yoga mat.
Nearby, another senior yogi shook her head. “Neither did I.”
Sam looked around, clearly expecting some sort of corroboration, but all of the assembled retirees seemed to be doing their best to avoid his gaze.
If Sam thought he was going to get one of the residents to tattle on Opal, Mavis, and Ethel, he was fooling himself. As much as everyone in town had fallen for his uber-charming first responder doggy dad routine, they’d never turn on the Charlie’s Angels. Opal, Mavis, and Ethel were legends in Turtle Beach. Sam truly didn’t know who he was dealing with, did he?
