Mahjonged (An Alex Harris Mystery) Read Free Page A

mahjong tiles being moved around the table was a welcoming sound from the screech of Mia’s voice. But, as any good weatherman will tell you, this was just the calm before the storm.

 
     
     

CHAPTER SEVEN
     
     
    “Mahjong!” Millie shouted from the other side of the room. Again. “Pay me. Twenty-five cents each.”
    The wind howled outside as each table continued their games, players picking tiles from the Great Wall and discarding others. I suddenly felt a fluttering of air across my ankle where the skin of my leg was exposed between the hem of my jeans and my sock. Almost imperceptible but then I felt it again. I glanced around the room and other than hands picking up and discarding mahjong tiles, I saw no movement. I lived in an old house, and one which was obviously not wind proof. Just another thing to add to John’s ever-growing list of home projects.
    I looked around at each table. I played at a table with Mary-Beth, Meme and Theresa. Everything seemed calm. Mia sat at the same table with Millie and Sam along with Millie’s mom, Judith. My mom played at a table with Penelope Radamaker and Liz and Jean while Dorothy and Connie played a three-handed version with Francis Haddock.
    I had met Francis Haddock a couple years earlier while investigating the murder of a woman who worked at the local mannequin factory. My mom had taken Mrs. Haddock under her wing and she fit in perfectly with the seniors group. My grandmother was also systematically turning her into quite a Bingo player.
    I watched Penelope, Liz and Jean. Until tonight, I’d never met them before. Penelope arrived with Judith Chapman. She had lived in Europe for many years and now lived here in Indian Cove. She seemed to be a lively woman and from the look of her clothes, probably a rich woman as well. She, like Liz, dressed in red. Come to think of it, Connie and my mom also wore red and so did Mia. I then looked at Liz. There was obviously a story there. I would have to find out the details later from Connie. My mom had invited Jean Malansky, another friend from the seniors group. She had been quiet all evening, though very friendly whenever anyone talked to her. Mom hoped to bring her out of her shell. Jean didn’t say a whole lot but she seemed to be one heck of a mahjong player and I would have to remember to include her in any future games I organized. Jean was tall and thin and had pale red hair with a lot of gray she didn’t bother to color. Comparing her to Penelope and her own head of thick, wavy red hair there was a striking contrast. One looked like she lived the life of Jackie O and the other like Jackie O’s maid.
    “Honey, it’s your turn,” Meme said, bringing me out of my musings. “You’re tryin’ to figure out what’s going on between Liz and Mia aren’t you?”
    Nothing got past my grandmother. The only difference between her and her daughter, my mom, was my mother would admonish me to stop immediately, whereas Meme usually wanted in on whatever I was up to.
    “I’m sure there’s a good story there, but now’s not the time. I’ll have to stop over at the club on Monday and ask Connie what it’s all about,” I whispered to the group at my table, knowing full well I sat with a bunch of nosy snoops just like me.
    “What the heck hell? You’re cheating!” Sam pouted from the other side of the room as Millie won again.
    I smiled at my sister’s use of “what the heck hell.” My nephew Henry had a habit of saying “what the hell,” which we all knew he picked up from his mother. My sister, being the good mom, and trying to keep him from getting kicked out of school, told him he should be saying “what the heck,” and before we knew it, the phrase morphed to “what the heck hell.” My sister promptly claimed it as her own and loved saying it.
    “Before I give you one more red cent, Millie Chapman,” Sam huffed, “I just want to say two things. One, don’t forget you work for me, and two, I want Alex to