Murdered by Prejudice: A Liz Lucas Cozy Mystery Series

by Dianne Harman

  “Rick’s would be a federal employee murder as well, but Seth is so stupid I doubt that he even knows he has to alert the FBI. Anyway, evidently she was murdered from a distance by some sniper who had a high-powered rifle, which tells us nothing about who did it or what the motive was.

  “Thanks again, Bart. I’ll read this and see if I get some insight as to why I was supposed to read it. Appreciate the service. Tell the family hi for me,” she said as she stood up and walked over to the door.

  “Happy to do it, Liz. If you need anything else, just let me know.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Liz drove back to the lodge, let Winston out, and made herself a cup of coffee. She remembered her conversation with Roger the evening before about taking Winston with her, but figured he’d give her a pass for not taking him to the newspaper office.

  She sat down, opened the envelope Amy had given her, and read the article. When she was finished, she leaned back in her chair and took a sip of coffee. While there was nothing in the article that would outwardly seem to tie the two murders together, a couple of things bothered her. Both of the victims had been killed from a distance, presumably by a sniper. Two murders being committed in that manner in the Red Cedar area in that short of a time span seemed to be more than a coincidence. She wondered if the same gun had been used in both murders.

  Liz knew that Seth rarely picked up his phone and often when he did return a call, it was several days later, and sometimes he never responded at all. Better call Wes, the coroner, she thought. He’ll be able to tell me what he thinks the weapon was if he’s finished his preliminary autopsy report. Actually, it might be better to call Bart and see if he knows. Wes might be in the middle of an autopsy.

  “Hi, Amy, it’s Liz Lucas. Any chance I could speak with Bart?”

  “I think he’s in his office. Let me see. One of us will get right back to you,” the newspaper receptionist said.

  “So, I’m assuming you thought of something to ask me, Liz,” Bart said when he came on the phone. “What would you like to know?”

  “Bart, by any chance do you know what kind of a gun was used to kill Sylvia? I don’t see it in the article.”

  “Give me a minute, Liz. I’m going to put you on hold while I check with the guy who wrote the story.”

  Liz began to make notes. She knew she wasn’t officially involved in either of the cases, but she also knew that Rick’s murder would wind up on the low end of Seth’s totem pole. Catching speeders and filling the Red Cedar city coffers with traffic fines were much higher on the pole, and she seriously doubted if he’d found time to inform the FBI or that he’d even thought to do it.

  “Sorry it took so long, Liz,” Bart said. “Cal Parrish, the guy who wrote the story, told me he’d been in touch with Sheriff Richards’ office, because he wanted to have everything ready so he could do a follow-up story when the killer was caught. Unfortunately, that never happened, but the sheriff told him the ballistics report showed that Sylvia was killed by a bullet from a high-powered rifle, but he couldn’t tell what kind of a rifle. Does that help?”

  “Yes, and please thank him for me. I have no idea where I’m going with this, but for some reason I thought it was important. Thanks, Bart, talk to you later,” Liz said.

  She decided to call the coroner on the off chance she could catch him between autopsies. The phone was answered by a woman’s voice, “County Coroner’s Office. How may I direct your call?”

  “This is Liz Lucas. I’d like to speak with Wes Anderson, if he’s available.”

  “Just a moment.”

  Within seconds, a warm male voice said, “Liz, how’s my favorite amateur sleuth?”

  “I’m fine, Wes, but you must have been standing in front of your receptionist’s desk to answer the phone that fast.”

  “Actually, I’d just gotten a cup of coffee and was on my way back to my office when you called. What can I do for you?”

  “Wes, there was a woman by the name of Sylvia Tanaka who was recently murdered and yesterday a man by the name of Rick Lawrence was murdered. From the little I know, both of these individuals were murdered by a bullet from a high powered rifle, evidently fired by a sniper. Here’s my question. I know you performed the autopsy on Ms. Tanaka. Have you had time to do a preliminary autopsy on Mr. Lawrence?”

  “I just finished it.”

  “Wes, did anything lead you to believe there’s a connection between the bullets that were used to kill both of them?”

  He was quiet for a few moments and then he said, “Yes, and that’s a very astute question. In my opinion, there is a very good chance that both of those individuals were killed by bullets from the same gun.”

  “You know where I’m going with this, Wes. If they were both killed by bullets from the same gun, can you tell what kind of a gun was used?”

  “Not at this point, and actually we may have a third person killed in the same way. I just received a call from the U. S. Forest Service. One of their men who was on a fire watch was murdered in the same manner a little while ago. They had called the FBI who called me a few moments ago, asking me to conduct an autopsy, because I’m the closest coroner. The body is being transported here as we speak.”

  “Wes, this sounds like a lot more than coincidence to me. When you’ve finished with your autopsy, could you give me a call?”

  “Sure. Liz, would that call be in an official capacity or just that you want to know?”

  Liz told him about how Allison Lawrence had been staying at the Red Cedar Lodge and Spa and how she had to tell her about her husband’s death. Then she told him how she’d found out there had been a second murder which was seemingly tied to Rick Lawrence’s murder, and how she felt a sense of duty to Allison.

  “Liz, I may be out of line here, but it seems to me that telling someone their spouse has been murdered is not in your list of official duties as a spa owner. I would rather imagine that would fall under Seth’s duties, not yours.”

  “So would I, Wes, so would I.” She went on to tell him about her conversation with Seth and how he’d more or less told her she’d have to be the one to do it.

  There was silence on the other end of the phone, and then Wes said, “Unfortunately, that confirms my first thought about our illustrious police chief. Wish you had some law enforcement history, other than solving murders as a concerned citizen, because me and everyone else I know would support you if you ran for police chief.”

  “Nice to hear, Wes, thanks, but I don’t have any history in law enforcement other than being lucky enough to catch a few murderers.”

  “Wait a minute, Liz. I just thought of something. Bob Salazar, the Dillon County Supervisor, is a good friend of mine. He told me once that although it’s extremely rare, the Board of Supervisors recently gave permission to a man to run for the office of police chief of a small town in Dillon County. He’d done a lot with the police department in an unofficial capacity, but didn’t have actual experience working as a police officer. Guy ran and won the election for police chief.”

  “Hold on, Wes. If I’m hearing you correctly, you’re telling me that you’d like me to go to the Board of Supervisors and petition them to let me run for the Chief of Police of Red Cedar. Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying. As I recall, your husband Roger and Bob Salazar are good friends. I think I even recall that Bob was the best man at your wedding, although having his sister-in-law murdered at the time of your reception wasn’t so great. But remember, you solved that murder. Bet Bob would help you, if only because of that. Think about it, Liz. This could be the start of a whole new career for you.”

  “You flatter me, Wes, but I’m pretty sure Roger would say that is the last thing I need. Anyway, back to the present murders. Really would appreciate a call when you finish the autopsy.”

  “You got it Chief Lucas,” Wes said with a chuckle.

  “Cute, Wes, cute,” Liz said as she ended the call.

&nbs
p; CHAPTER 6

  The killer was in a prone position in the blind he’d built in the vineyard. It consisted of nothing more than a shallow pit he’d dug and then covered with branches from the vines. With his clothes the same color as the vines, he blended in perfectly, the only thing that didn’t blend in with the surroundings was his sniper rifle which stuck out of the blind.

  He knew Josh Espinoza would be here soon. As District Director of the local U. S. Department of Agriculture, he would have to follow up on the phone call he’d received indicating that western grapeleaf skeletonizers had been found in this particular vineyard. Josh would have to have first-hand knowledge that the threat existed, and then he’d have to decide how to handle it.

  When the killer had made the call, he’d disguised his voice and said he was a farmworker. He said he’d seen a television show about how this new threat was being found in some Northern California grape regions and he was concerned because he’d lose his job if the skeletonizers began to ruin the grape crop. He’d told Espinoza that he knew the owner of the vineyard was out of the country, and he was afraid the grapes would be ruined before he returned. And so he waited, confident that Josh Espinoza would soon arrive.

  Josh Espinoza took a drink from the thermos in his truck’s cup holder and looked out the window. The sight was amazing. Over the last few years, a number of vineyards had been planted on the eastern edge of Dillon County with very good results. Last year was the first crush for several of the vineyards in the area, and while the wine was not the finest being made in California, there was talk that eventually it would rival the quality of the wines of Napa and Sonoma.

  If it was true that grapeleaf skeletonizers had been spotted, it could wipe out all the grapevines in Dillon County and far beyond. California wine made up 90% of the wine being produced in the United States, and the hopes and dreams of a lot of vintners depended on these new northern California areas becoming successful, to say nothing of the money that had been invested in the land, equipment, and manpower to ensure that success.

  Josh knew pretty much everything one could know about wine without actually producing it. His parents had come from Mexico to work in the Napa Valley vineyards and because he’d been born in the United States, he was a U.S. citizen. The owner of the winery where his parents worked had a policy that he would pay for the college education of any child of his workers who excelled in high school. Josh had graduated with a 4.0 grade point average and with the winery owner paying all of his college expenses, had attended and graduated from the University of California at Davis. Naturally, he chose a degree in viticulture.

  Even though Josh never intended to own a winery, he had a deep knowledge of grapes, both first-hand and academically. After college he’d taken a job with the U.S. Department of Agriculture, and with his degree, spent time in several of the department’s California branch offices, working as the resident wine expert. Four years ago, as the new wine area in Dillon County was in its infancy, he was transferred to the Dillon County office and then just two weeks ago he was promoted to the head of the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s branch office in Dillon County.

  He still had to pinch himself to believe that he, the child of immigrant parents, was now the head of the department’s office in Dillon and considered to be the top expert on wine for the U.S. Department of Agriculture. Just the thought of the damage the grapeleaf skeletonizers could do to the budding industry caused him great concern. He knew if the wine crop in Dillon County was lost, not only would he never be promoted to another job with the department, there was a good chance he would be demoted and become a huge embarrassment to his family. A family who told everyone they could about his success. The Dillon wine-growing industry and his family’s hopes weighed heavily on his shoulders this particular afternoon.

  He drove his truck down the rutted dirt road that led to the vineyard where the anonymous caller had said the grapeleaf skeletonizers had been spotted and pulled to a stop. He took a long drink of water from his thermos and was just getting out of the truck when he got a call from his office secretary, Lisa.

  “Hi, Lisa. What’s up?”

  “Not much going on here. The reason I’m calling is evidently a piece of mail addressed to you was misdelivered to the building next to ours. From the cancellation date, it looks like they probably had it for a couple of days. I didn’t know if you were expecting something, so I thought I better let you know about it. It looks sort of personal. There’s no return address on it.”

  “No, I’m not expecting anything. I’ll take a look at it when I come in tomorrow morning. Just put it on my desk. I’m out in the field inspecting some vines that someone thinks might be infested with grapeleaf skeletonizers. I got an anonymous call about it. I won’t make it back to the office today, but thanks for the call.”

  “Not a problem, Josh. I’ll see you in the morning. Good luck with the grapeleaf skeletonizers.”

  Josh got out of his truck and began to inspect the nearby grapevines. He never heard the puff from the sniper’s rifle, and he’d never had a chance to see what was in the envelope that had been misdelivered. Too bad. He might have heeded the words, ‘You Are Next,’ while he was looking at the American Eagle with the slash mark through it.

  The killer quickly climbed out of the pit he’d dug, changed clothes, and hurried to his car that he’d hidden a mile away. Even though he knew the chances of someone finding Josh in this remote section of the vineyard were slim, he was someone who had learned when he was in Afghanistan that to stay alive you always had to be prepared for anything. He’d made it home from Afghanistan, but many would say the man who left for Afghanistan was not the same man who had come back from Afghanistan.

  CHAPTER 7

  “Liz, it’s Wes. Do you have a minute?”

  “Of course. Considering that you didn’t call back yesterday, I’m assuming you found something in the autopsy that you had to check out.”

  “Yes, I finished the one on Rick Lawrence, and it was just as it appeared. He died from a gunshot wound to the heart.”

  “Now that the cause of death is confirmed,” Liz said, “it sure would be nice if we knew what the motive was. I talked to Seth today and of course he hasn’t done a thing on the case. I feel so sorry for Allison, Rick Lawrence’s wife.”

  “So do I,” West responded, “but I think there’s more to his murder than randomness. I called Seth as well, but he never returned my call.”

  “What do you mean by more than random?” she asked, remembering the eagle and the words “You Are Next.”

  “The reason I couldn’t get back to you is I had two more autopsies to conduct. I didn’t want to call you until I completed them because there were some similarities between both of them. Each of them died from a bullet wound to the heart, and if I was a betting man, I’d bet they were murdered by the same person.”

  “Wait a minute. Are you telling me that the three people you just autopsied were all murdered in the exact same manner and you think it was by the same person?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “And so that must mean that you think Sylvia Tanaka was also killed by this person since when I talked to you last, you thought the bullet used to kill her and the bullet used to kill Rick Lawrence were probably from the same gun. Is that right?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Wes said. “Now we have four murders in a relatively short span of time, and the time interval between these murders is getting shorter. It’s not my job to figure out the motive, but naturally I’ve been trying to think what they have in common, and so far, I’ve found nothing.”

  “Wes, if you’re correct, and I have every reason to think you are, this means that it looks like there’s a serial killer on the loose in the area. Where were the latest victims murdered?”

  “Red Patterson was at a fire watch tower on Mt. Holy Oak, which is in Dillon County, and Josh Espinoza was in a vineyard also in Dillon County. I believe the investigation of those two
murders, as well as Sylvia Tanaka’s murder, would usually fall under the jurisdiction of the Dillon County Sheriff, which is too bad.”

  “Why do you say that? I think he’s a very good sheriff.”

  “He is, but he’s in the hospital at the moment. Believe it or not, he was trying to show off in front of his middle school son by riding the kid’s skateboard, and took a bad fall. He broke his leg and his arm. That happened last night and I heard he’s going to be in the hospital for several days and then on bed rest at home.”

  “Oh, that’s great. We have a serial killer on the loose. We have a police chief who cares more about ticketing speeders than he does finding murderers, and we have a county sheriff who’s essentially out of the picture because he’s on medical leave. I hope the killer has finished what he wanted to accomplish.”

  “As I said, Liz, my job is not to determine the motive of this demented and dangerous killer. All I do is determine the cause of death. Thought I ought to give you a call so you can ponder all of this. Matter of fact, if you want my opinion, I think you need to get involved in this. The citizens of Dillon County could sure use your murderer-finding talents right about now. Back to the sheriff. Technically these murders fall within his jurisdiction since they occurred in his county, but these cases are a little different in that they involve federal employees.”

  “Thanks for the compliment, Wes, but I think this is way beyond my limited capabilities. So since federal employees are involved, how is this case different?”

  “It means the FBI is going to get involved. Anyway, Liz, think about what I said earlier about you running for police chief. Red Cedar could sure use you about now. I’ve got to take another call. Talk to you later,” he said as he ended the call.

  CHAPTER 8

  Liz sat for a moment digesting what Wes had just told her. If he was correct, and she’d never known him not to be, it meant there was a serial killer on the loose in Dillon County, and possibly even in Red Cedar. It was hard to believe that something like that could happen in their small tightly knit community.