The Couples (50-Plus Condo Book 3)

Book summary

"The Couples" delves into a murder mystery unfolding at Brian's Burgers, with the victim linked to the local B&B owner, Brian's girlfriend. As the story unravels, a thrilling sequence of events, including botched surveillance and an unexpected hero, ensues. Amidst the chaos, the book explores the intertwined tales of Rachel and Joe, weaving together their journey from meeting to becoming parents, all set against a backdrop of youth, doubts, and natural disasters. Expect a rollercoaster of surprises and unearthed secrets in this captivating narrative.

Book excerpt from The Couples (50-Plus Condo Book 3)

Angie was in the kitchen preparing breakfast for her guests. While she heated up the large griddle, Precious rubbed all around her bare ankles and used her head to brush the flipflops. “Hang on. I’ll feed you in a second.”

“I smell coffee,” said a female voice from behind.

Angie turned around to greet her guest with a smile. “Good morning. Have a seat. Coffee will be ready shortly.”

The woman sat in the middle of the six-place setting. Although there were only three women staying currently, Angie always set the table for six so each could choose where they wanted to sit.

“Did you rest well?” she asked, trying to start a conversation.

“Yes, until I heard a bumping at the door,” said the woman. She pushed her overly bleached hair away from an equally overly tanned face. Angie noticed that the woman had exaggerated lines as a result of far too much time in the sun.

“Bumping? What sort of bumping?” Angie asked.

“The kind a cat makes when it’s trying to get inside,” she said, putting two bags of sweetener in her cup in anticipation of the coffee.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I thought Precious was in my room last night,” Angie said, knowing full well that the cat had actually slept all night with her. This woman must need something to complain about.

“What else could it have been? Unless you have ghosts.”

Angie poured the coffee into the woman’s cup and returned to the stove. “I don’t think we have any ghosts.” Actually, she really wasn’t sure. Angie had wondered about that possibility because of finding items in a different location than where she had left them. And the creaking stairs.

“Morning, all!” Two more women entered the dining room. Neither of them had bleached hair or tanned skin. They looked like normal tourists, dressed in shorts, tank tops and sandals.

“Good morning, ladies. Please be seated and I’ll bring the coffee over,” Angie said, gripping the pot by its handle.

“Did you hear any bumping last night?” asked the blonde.

“No. I was so tired, I just crashed,” said the lady in red shorts as Angie poured her coffee into a cup.

“Me either. I crashed, too.” The lady in black shorts smiled as she talked, waiting her turn for coffee.

“It was that cat, I’m sure of it, making the noise,” Blonde said, pointing at Precious as the feline sat waiting to be fed.

“I’m sorry if the cat bothered you, but as I said, I’m sure she was in my room all night.” Angie returned to the kitchen with the coffee pot.

“Whatever, but I do expect any place I stay to be quiet all night,” Blonde said, raising her cup to her lips. “I mean, really, with the cost of things so high, one would anticipate peace and quiet.”

Angie knew where the woman was going with her complaint. She wanted a room reduction. Well, think again, honey.

“I slept like a babe. I didn’t hear a thing,” said Red Shorts. “Chill, Margaret. You can sleep on the beach.”

“Yeah, quit griping,” said Black Shorts.

Angie grinned to herself as she flipped waffles. It sounded like her friends were used to the woman’s complaining. Turning to the cat, she said, “Okay, your turn, Precious.” Angie placed a bowl of crunchy food on the floor for the cat.

“Be sure to wash your hands now,” said the complainer. The other two women gave her a sharp look.

After washing her hands, Angie brought a platter of waffles to the table. “Right there is the syrup, three kinds,” she said, pointing, “and butter in this warming dish, and cinnamon and sugar.”

“What, no peanut butter?” asked the complainer.

“Oh, you want peanut butter? Certainly,” Angie said, walking to the cabinet containing the peanut butter jar. “Jelly, too?”

“Yes, please.” Angie brought both to the woman. “Thank you. Now everything is perfect.”

“Oh, these waffles smell divine!” said Red Shorts.

“And they taste great!” said Black Shorts.

Feeling satisfied she had won over the complainer, Angie began fixing a bowl of fruit for the guests. Thankfully, not all guests were like this one complaining woman.

Rachel was sitting at her desk when a man unknown to her came in. “Hello, may I help you?”

“Good morning, Rachel.”

“Yes, good morning,” she answered, wondering how he knew her name. He said it with such conviction.

“I am Liam Higgins,” he said in a smooth tone of voice, pausing for her response. When there was none, he continued. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t.” Rachel didn’t have a clue how she could possibly know this man.

“Professor Higgins at Ohio State University. Remember now?” he asked.

“Of course!” The man had changed greatly in the thirty plus years since she had seen him. No longer sporting a full head of black hair that completely covered his ears, he was now bald, with only feathers of white atop his ears that passed for hair. He leaned his stooped body over a four-footed cane as he walked closer. The man hardly resembled his former self.

Rachel rose from her chair and reached out her hand to the elderly man. “It’s so nice to see you again. It has been decades.”

“Yes, it certainly has. I’ve changed a bit,” he said, running one hand over his shiny head. “However, you look practically the same.”

“Oh, how kind of you.”

“You may wonder what brings me here to the Breezeway Condominiums,” he said.

“Well, yes. Please have a seat.” Rachel motioned to the visitor’s chair in front of her desk.

“A friend of mine advised me that there might be a rental coming available soon.” The professor sat in the chair offered. “I believe he’s your condo president, Charles Amos?”

“Yes, he is. Charles.” Rachel wondered how these two even knew each other and what they could possibly have in common? “And he’s right, a place is opening up next week. A two bedroom, two bath unit with a fairly good view of the pool. But then, you have the entire ocean to look at also.”

“That sounds lovely, Rachel. I’d like to see it.”

“Follow me, Professor. I have an identical one I can show you since the tenants are still in the unit you’ll get.”

“I am anxious to see it,” he said, rising stiffly from the chair.

They left the office, reacquainted after decades.

“You won’t believe who I rented a unit to today,” Rachel said, stirring her homemade soup in the pot. “Well, actually, you really could never guess because you never met the man.”

“Who’s moving in?” Joe asked.

“A man named Liam Higgins. Professor Higgins, actually. When I was at Ohio State, he was an English professor. I had him as an instructor for a couple years.” She banged the spoon on the side of the pot to dislodge the tomato pieces.

“Small world. How’d he end up in Florida?” Joe asked, sitting by the small table in the kitchen.

“He’s a friend of Charles, our condo president. Can’t figure how they are friends, but it doesn’t matter.” She looked at her husband who appeared tired. “Why don’t you wash up? Dinner will be ready soon.”

Joe rose from the chair like he was stiff.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, just tired. And my back hurts.”

Rachel nodded, although her husband couldn’t see her do that. His back had been giving Joe more difficulty than usual. She guessed his years in construction had finally taken a toll on his spine. She brought out French bread and butter, and set them on the dining room table, then returned to the kitchen to ladle vegetable soup into bowls. As she was carrying in the second bowl, Joe joined her at the table.

“I’ll say grace,” Joe said.

“Please. We have so much to be grateful for.”

When Joe finished saying grace, Rachel couldn’t help but continue the sentiment expressed. “We are so very blessed, Joe. God has really been good to us.”

“Yes, even the B and B is doing well, thanks to Angie,” he said, blowing on a spoonful of soup.

“I know. But I’m most amazed over the personal turnaround Angie has accomplished in her life. Marketing is her niche, and I am so grateful she finally found her way.” Rachel broke off a small chunk of bread from the loaf. “I was beginning to think she’d never get her head on straight.”

Joe chuckled. “Isn’t that the truth. Now, if Brian can find his way, all will be perfect for our little girl.”

“I think he’ll figure it out in time. Angie is a good role model for him to follow, an excellent influence.” She spread butter on the bread, taking care to be modest in her consumption. Rarely did she eat bread. “I couldn’t have said that two years ago. Living in ashrams? The perpetual student? Who would have thought?”

Joe shook his head, no doubt in wonderment.