Getting Old Is Très Dangereux: A Mystery by Rita Lakin Page A

up. “I’ve got an idea. Come to dinner with us.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    “No, I’m not. This way you’ll see how unintimidated I am by her. No way can she manipulate me.”
    The dancers are moving away and now I don’t have to shout to be heard.
    “What are you going to do, just bring me along and say Hi, guess who’s come to dinner?”
    “No, I’ll tell her sweetly in advance that you’re joining us.”
    Boy, I hate the way he refers to the two of them as “us.”
    The wind is picking up. Without saying a word to each other, we gather up our belongings and start to head back down the beach. Others are doing the same.
    “Okay,” I say, “I am officially invited.” I bet she won’t be thrilled to hear that update.
    It suddenly comes to me to ask, “I’m sure by now you saw the inscription she wrote to you in her book. ‘We pardon to the extent that we love.’ What did it mean?”
    He shrugs. “I have no idea.”
    We slog through the sand. I keep thinking. And then I get it. “Jack, you broke off the relationship.”
    “Yes, and I’m still ashamed of my cowardly behavior. The very next day after that embarrassing dinner, I left her a note and went straight to the airport. I guess maybe the quote means she’s forgiving me for dumping her in that unmanly way.”
    Now I know what that weird expression means—my blood suddenly runs cold. “Jack, maybe I shouldn’t go.”
    “Nah,” he says, smiling. “I can’t wait to see you gals together.”
    I doubt there’ll be mermaids singing to each other. More like sirens slinging mud.

10
IDA SPIES
    I da stands in the circle, watching Sophie and Bella. She is aware that they are purposely not looking at her. She smells that they are up to something again.
    “Okay,” Merrill Grant says to his Cane Fu class of twelve, who listen with all eagerness. “This is our final scenario of the day. Pick a partner. One of you is the senior victim, carrying a cane. The other is the bad guy. Bad guys will toss their canes out of the circle.”
    The participants fumble around, chattering, giggling, and picking partners and positions. Ida knows the players so well. Husbands and wives will stay together. Naturally the husband will insist on the role of attacker and the wife gives in andenters the familiar victim role. The men fling their canes out of the circle. Ida sneers. How easy they are to read.
    Merrill lectures on. “The odds are that the guy picking on you knows you are old and assumes you are creaky and an easy mark and doesn’t think he’ll need a weapon. Victims, hold onto your canes as you were taught.”
    Sol, Joe, and Hy grin at each other, ready to have fun. Ida smirks again. Any chance to lord it over their women. Tessie, Evvie, and Lola give each other the eye. They are prepared to play hardball.
    Sophie and Bella partner up. Ida partners with a friend from her cooking class, Patricia Drew. Her nickname is Pat “Nancy” Drew because she loves mysteries the way Gladdy does.
    “Everybody ready?” Nods and yeahs. Merrill aims his next words at the married couples. “Since this is a practice and not reality, please do not take any aggression out on the person you live with. I know you’ll be tempted. All attacks are pretend.”
    Hy can’t resist. “Spoilsport.”
    Lola, who thinks every word out of her hubby’s mouth is a pearl instead of the grit of sand it really is, smiles mischievously at him. “I promise not to hurt you, poochy.”
    Merrill scratches his buzz cut and says, “Okay, victim, turn your back. Bad guy, sneak up behind.Put your hands around vic’s neck and pull her toward you.”
    Again giggling and fooling around. And major overacting. Mostly from Sol and Hy.
    Merrill says, “Victims, he’s got you by the throat. You’re frightened and you know you have to think fast. What do you do?”
    Lola, who must have been one of those prissy kids in school who always shot her hand up first, as she does right now, says, “I know.