Secret Senior Sleuths Society Mysteries Book 3

If you like what you read, this e-book or paperback can be purchased with the links… also available on Kindle Unlimited

_______________________________

Chapter 1 – A New Case

I’m glad I turned our mystery book club into a Secret Sleuths society and insisted that each person create an identity to allow our work to remain in the shadows. If everyone knew who we were, it would severely limit our ability to interview residents and solicit gossip tidbits. It’s easy to be caught in the spotlight when you live in a small community where everyone knows everyone else’s business.

I’m aware there’s no end to fiefdom syndrome in our tight-knit community. There are a lot of control freaks here, but my group seems immune to that affliction. We all work together toward the common good. The only complaint I’ve heard is my propensity to present my verbal vocalizations with small alliterations.

This baffles me, as it is merely an intelligent expression and clever use of words. I don’t understand the objection.

My biggest problem is keeping my sleuths focused. They always want to travel and visit family instead of zeroing in on crime. I can barely get a few sleuths to participate in each case. But with me as their leader, that’s all we have ever needed.

Based on these first two cases, there seems no end to the unconscionable cadre of criminals in our midst. But lately it’s been too quiet here in Peacock Perch.

But you’re only as good as your last success. And with the Peril of the Puffing Pauper case in our rearview mirrors, I call the sleuths to meet me to discover our next case.

They finally toddle in dressed in all manner of swimsuits, golf shirts, and tennis regalia. I don’t know why anyone needs anything more than solving mysteries to pass the time, but since I summoned them, I’ll allow it.

As I call the roll, I notice we are down to a skeleton crew, with only Daring Detective, Mystery Minx, Delta Snoops, Private Eyes, and Smoking Gun, along with our ever-loyal Sherlick Sparks. And then Inspector Instinct tardily joins us with Mrs. Instinct in tow.

Ever since she assisted on our last case, Mrs. Instinct thinks they’re a husband-and-wife crime-solving duo, like on the TV show Hart to Hart. With Mrs. Instinct bitten by the detective bug, I guess I’m stuck with her if I want him, like a pair of conjoined twins.

“I see we need another talk about punctuality and attendance,” I scold. “But in the meantime, we need to discuss our next case. Has anyone heard of any wrongdoings?”

Daring Detective is the first to jump in. “Well, I was at my hand and foot card game last night, catching up on the scuttlebutt, and several people reported issues with computer interruptions. And one person relayed this horrible story of identity theft with her credit cards. It was a mess,” she explains.

I shake my head, disappointed. “Daring Detective, that is hardly unusual in this day and age, when everyone relies on these confounding computers for everything,” I rebuke.

“There’s more!” she says. “I spoke with some women at Zumba class this morning and heard that several more people have experienced some type of credit card fraud and even Social Security identity theft issues. Isn’t that too much of a coincidence to have so many people reporting these same problems in one community?” Daring Detective asserts.

Mystery Minx looks thoughtful. “I read a mystery book once where there was an identity theft ring and they found out someone in the neighborhood was collecting information and stealing Social Security benefits and opening new credit card debt in people’s names,” she interjects.

“You know, when I was searching Bob’s computer on the last case, the computer kept blinking on and off. It happened several times,” Inspector Instinct says.

“Blinking on and off can be an indication of hacking. The hacker enters your computer and can cause a momentary lapse,” Sherlick Sparks explains.

“Computers are completely corruptible; that’s why I never use them,” I state. “But I believe more investigation is in order. If there is a rash of thefts and if it could be someone inside the community, it could cause pandemonium. The Secret Senior Sleuths Society is on the case!”

Then Delta Snoops readily raises her hand like a schoolgirl, an enviable southern mannerism.

“Madame, many of us are not computer wizards. We didn’t grow up with computers, so they speak a foreign language to us seniors. I can’t even program my web thermostat, so I replaced it with an old-school version with a dial. Isn’t this a little beyond us?” Delta Snoops asks.

“Nonsense! We didn’t have to be experts in surveillance, gambling, poison, and the mob to solve our last three mysteries. Good old-fashioned deductive reasoning has applied to investigation for hundreds of years and will serve us to solve this crime,” I insist, until Mrs. Instinct abruptly interrupts me.

“Madame. We can’t stay. We just came over to tell you we’re leaving on a Mediterranean cruise tomorrow morning for three weeks.”

“Yes, we need a break after the last case. Learning our best friend is a killer is exhausting,” Inspector Instinct adds.

“Very well, you are excused,” I say and the Instincts scurry out of the room.

I question to myself why anyone would want to be cooped up in a floating tin can for that long, but then Daring Detective pops her hand in the air, too. It’s like a classroom.

“Madame, sorry, I’m having my entire house renovated, so we’re going to the other coast for a few weeks.”

“All right, you are also excused.” I barely get it out when Mystery Minx sheepishly raises her hand.

“Madame, I’m waiting for news any day for my daughter to go into labor with my first grandbaby. I promised her I’d be there. Her husband is not that helpful,” she says.

“I haven’t found many men are with that kind of thing. Fine, you too—go,” I sigh.

I don’t know how I’m expected to run an investigation group with all my sleuths dallying all over on cruises and family obligations. But I will persevere!

I turn my attention to the remaining sleuths. “Now, for the rest of you, use your brains and do some digging. We need to identify the number of crimes being perpetrated in Peacock Perch and get specifics from the victims in order to determine possible suspects with means, motive, and opportunity.”

“Ok. I’ll check Mugbook and Nosy Neighbors to find some victims,” Delta Snoops says.

“This is not up my particular alley, but I have some connections that deal in stolen identities. I’ll ask around,” Smoking Gun says in his eerily stealthy and raspy voice.

“What can I do?” Private Eyes eagerly and innocently asks.

“Hmm. Why don’t you see if there are any police reports on these thefts?” I suggest.

“Police stations make me nervous, Madame. Can I help Delta?” she asks.

I’m not sure about Private Eyes yet. She helped us admirably in our case of the Vanishing Vixen, but she’s new and there’s still too much I don’t know about her. But anyone keen to help is good in my eyes.

“Very well. I will assign that to someone else. You are all dismissed. Thank you for coming,” I say and they all leave, but I motion to Mr. Sparks to remain.

“Sparks, I’m going to have to rely a lot on you for this case. You will be our technical consultant. I must admit I don’t know much about this,” I say.

“Yeah, I know a little bit. I just outfitted my house as a complete smart house and have been doing it for a few others, so I’m up on a few things. There’s a lot of Wi-Fi use here and every IP address has a fingerprint that shows the city and state and can be traced. I’ll start there,” he offers.

“Excellent, Sparks—I knew you would be the key to this crime’s investigation. Some of you may not be aware this, as I hide it well, but I’m not overly familiar or comfortable with technology,” I confess. “I will pry around the computer lab and see what more I can find out.”

“That’s a good place to start. Management didn’t listen to me when I warned them about these confounded devices in the past. I’ve talked with the technician who fixes the computers—people are constantly downloading viruses by opening attachments and going on porn sites. I wouldn’t expect it from a group our age, but they hand out those little blue pills like Tic Tacs here, so I guess it makes sense. But really, who does that in a public place? Yikes!” Sparks laughs as he waves goodbye and exits out the door.

“Understood. Forewarned is forearmed… I mean… fine.” I say.

This will be a tough one. Delta Snoops is not wrong. This is completely out of our wheelhouse, so our life experience will be practically useless. But I will let no one in my community be a victim if I can help it.

Despite our dwindling numbers, this crack team will do nicely to investigate. Sherlick Sparks, of course, our resident tech expert will be invaluable. And we’re lucky the elusive Smoking Gun back in town—he will be useful. And maybe I’ll give Private Eyes a real shot.

We need a popular gossip, someone who can talk to people. Thank goodness Magnolia Mastermind is in Europe. If I get saddled with her for another case, I’ll be the one accused of homicide and will have to investigate myself. Delta Snoops was very useful in our first case, The Vanishing Vixen. She has her ear to the wall and can be effective.

The game’s afoot again! So, I head to my favorite information stronghold, the coffee café right next to the recreation center computer room, to do a little reconnaissance and information gathering.

***

Sipping my Earl Grey tea, I sit and keep my ears open and my notebook handy to record any prevailing gossip. In a 55-plus community like Peacock Perch, chitter-chatter is undeniably more reliable and prolific than the daily newspaper in days of old.

I disguise myself with a gray wing, enormous hat and granny glasses so I can go unrecognized. Although I shroud my sleuths’ identities from the community so they can operate freely, but I must admit, I enjoy my celebrity as the Sherlock Holmes of Peacock Perch. It makes sense for the group to have some profile. Even a secret society can benefit from a publish persona to welcome prospective cases and witnesses. But in this case, I’m gathering information and must be incognito.

Today seems a little slow, though. First there is some nonsense about the cost of the new coffeemakers. Personally, I don’t get this fancy coffee craze. Just give me some hot water, a cup, and a tea bag and I’m happy. Forget the overpriced lattes and maybe add some honey and lemon; that would be nice.

And there’s the typical drivel and petty pickles about this one cheating at tennis and that one’s administration of the pickleball round robin games. I swear when people retire, their tolerance quotient can be calculated by the average number of years they have left. It’s low.

Some people say gossip is my bread and butter and my peculiar obsession. I prefer to consider it a healthy interest in human nature that reveals criminal tendencies.

When my tea dwindles to half-full, Glory Gossip, our resident busy-body, spots me and sits down.

“Madame, have you heard the latest on the swingers’ club?” she whispers, looking around as if she doesn’t want to be overheard. I really believe she is looking around to ensure someone is close enough to hear the conversation.

Glory is the biggest blabbermouth in the Perch, which is why she will never be in our secret society.

“I solve mysteries, Glory. Who beds whom in this Peyton Place is neither a secret nor worthy of the Sleuths Society. Please go elsewhere to peddle your sordid and shocking slop,” I say with massive indignation to discourage her, but she continues to bend my ear.

“Well, it seems they have a new signal to identify each other. If you want to… swing, you fly a red pineapple flag on your golf cart,” she giggles.

“Yes, yes. Very obvious,” I say and shoo her away. I can’t hear others talk over her endless blather.

In the past, she’s been mildly useful as an informant on Perch activities. But lately she’s been oddly obsessed with this swingers’ club. I don’t understand why she cares. Maybe she wants to get into one—who knows? But as soon as she leaves, I overhear the middle of a curious conversation in the adjacent computer lab.

“This is how you go into incognito mode so your information is protected,” a female voice instructs.

“Good to know. I’m worried about identity theft. I know several people in our neighborhood who had false credit cards opened in their names and one who had an issue with their bank account when someone hacked her online banking,” a male voice claims.

“Yes! My neighbor told me her computer was hacked and they opened up a second mortgage on her house without her knowledge. She only found out because her mortgage lender sends her monthly emails on her credit score. When it dipped significantly, she called them. They’re helping her figure it out. It’s a shame—it takes years to unravel the damage caused in a few minutes of criminal activity,” the female voice says.

Another male voice loudly interjects. “Hey! What’s going on here? The computer blipped on and off again. This happens all the time. They use a cheap internet service here,” he complains.

Copyright 2023, Suzanne Rudd Hamilton. All Rights Reserved.