Gypped Read Free

the door for her, and when she wasn’t feeling well I offered to walk her dog. She let me do that a few times but wasn’t interested in even having a cup of tea together. After she died, I was flabbergasted she left me anything, never mind that much. My building was nice, but not the kind of place where you’d imagine someone down the hall had at least eight million dollars in the bank.”
    “I guess it makes up for losing on the game show,” Regan remarked.
    “It does,” Zelda said. She laughed heartily, instantly bringing Regan back to those days in the studio. Not a single bad clue went without comment. Zelda and Regan both prayed Betty White would be their celebrity partner. No such luck.
    “So when did you become a multimillionaire?”
    “Almost a year ago.” They reached Zelda’s Mercedes and loaded the bags in her trunk. “Listen, Regan, I have to hurry. This week I’m staying in an old Hollywood Hills estate. I don’t think anyone has lived there in years. The owner donated the use of the house for a week, as a prize at a charity auction. I bid the most—which isn’t saying much because nobody else wanted it. I’m having a dinner party tonight. Why don’t you and your husband come along?”
    “Jack is working.”
    “So come by yourself. The place is a kick. There are hiking trails next to the property. I was thinking of suggesting a moonlit walk after dinner if people are up to it.”
    “That sounds great, Zelda. What time?”
    “8:00.”
    “I’ll be there,” Regan said as she wrote down the address. “It’s so funny to run into you like this.”
    “It was meant to be, Regan. I truly believe that. I’ve beenstudying the universe. Everything happens for a reason. I coach people on that.
    “Coach people?”
    “I’m a life coach. I’ll tell you about it tonight. Can I give you a ride to your car?”
    “No, thanks, it’s up on the next level. It’s easier to walk.”
    “Okay. See you later.”
    Regan waved as Zelda backed out her car. Wow, Regan thought. What a story. She turned, and immediately noticed a tall, scruffy guy wearing a baseball cap and jeans coming into the garage from one of the side stairwells, a set of keys in his hand. Anxiously, he glanced around. Regan watched as he rushed down one aisle, up the next, then tried a key in the passenger door of a small car. It didn’t work. Quickly he backed away. He walked up another aisle and tried the key again with no luck.
    What is he doing? Is he looking for a car to steal? Regan asked herself. Most people have at least some idea of where they parked their car. Surreptitiously Regan followed him as he went up and down the aisles looking around, then headed for the main staircase and hurried down the steps. Her heart beating fast, Regan followed after him to the lower level where he also scouted out cars. She tried to keep her distance, but when he started back toward the main stairwell he seemed to sense her presence, stopped, and glanced around. Their eyes met.
    People were strolling to their cars, unaware of what was going on. I can’t put anyone in danger, Regan thought as she quickly turned and started to walk away. A moment later she turned back.
    He was gone.
    Regan headed to the security office as fast as she could.

2

    I t was great to see Regan again, Zelda thought as she drove up into the Hollywood Hills with the radio blaring. If we spent any time together, we’d really become good friends. I should take a trip to New York soon. I will take a trip to New York soon. Zelda smiled. It’s nice to have money. I still can’t get used to it.
    She was about to switch radio stations when the ringing of her cell phone interrupted a particularly irritating commercial for stomach upset. On the dashboard she could see that it was her father calling. Zelda pressed a button on the steering wheel.
    “Hi, Dad! How’s Vegas? Did you have fun last night?”
    “Hello, honey,” Roger Horn bellowed. “Thanks to your generosity,