“Thanks, love, I needed to hear that,” she said as they walked down the hall. Winston got on his dog bed in Roger’s study, knowing he wasn’t welcome in their bedroom.
CHAPTER 24
At 8:30 the next morning Liz called the number that Gina had sent to her the night before. After a few rings a soft voice answered the phone, “Hello.”
“Is this Olivia Jameson?”
“Yes. Who’s calling?”
“Olivia, my name is Liz Langley. A friend of yours, Gina Bartlett, works for me.”
“Yes, I remember Gina telling me she was going to work for you the last time I saw her. What can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if you’d have time this morning to meet with me? I have something important I’d like to discuss with you.”
“I just started working for Bart Stevenson at the Red Cedar Tribune. I do get a coffee break, and the office is right across from Gertie’s Diner. I could meet you there at 10:00.”
“That would be fine. I’ll see you then. Bart’s a friend of mine. Please tell him I said hello.”
“Wait a minute, Mrs. Langley. Let me tell you what I look like.”
“Olivia, I already know. I’ll see you at Gertie’s.”
Liz spent some time going over paperwork Bertha had left for her. She wanted Liz to become familiar with the new employees she’d hired for the spa. At 9:45 Liz called to Winston, and the two of them got in her van. A few minutes later she found a parking place in front of Gertie’s Diner and let Winston out of the car. He walked over to the front door of the diner, stopped, and looked back at Liz as if to say, “Hurry up. She always gives me leftovers. I love it here.” Liz opened the door for him, and Gertie had Winston’s harness in her hand by the time the door closed behind them.
“Saw ya’ comin’ thru the window. Two of my favorites. Here ya’ go big guy, let’s get this harness on ya’. Don’t wanna be closed down, ‘cuz I was nice to ya’, but I gotta tell ya’ I saw a chicken fried steak that was only half-eaten that has yer name all over it. I’ll go get it fer ya’ right now. Liz, take that booth over there.”
Liz smiled as she watched the iconic octogenarian toddle to the kitchen on her five inch high heels. They settled into the booth, and a moment later a young waitress brought Liz water, Winston’s chicken fried steak, and asked her if she was ready to order.
“Just coffee this morning, thanks. I’ll be joined by another person,” Liz said. Just then the door to the diner opened. Olivia walked in and started looking around. Liz waved to her and said to the waitress, “There she is now. If you can wait a moment, you can get her order as well.”
Olivia walked over to the booth and Liz said, “Olivia, before we get started, what would you like? Thought we’d better order right away, because I know you’re on a tight schedule, and I don’t want Bart to get mad at me for keeping you.”
Olivia looked at the waitress and said, “I’d like a cup of coffee with cream. Thanks.” She sat down across from Liz as the waitress walked away from their table to get their coffee.
Liz smiled and began speaking, “Olivia, it’s nice to meet you. I really appreciate you taking the time to see me. If you don’t mind I have a couple of questions I’d like to ask you.”
“Before we start, could you tell me how you know who I am?” Olivia asked.
“That’s part of why I’m here.” She told Olivia about how the gallery owner across the road from the Jefferson Lumber property had taken her photograph and given it to Liz. “A man was murdered by the name of David Sanders on the Jefferson Lumber Company property. He’s Gertie’s step-brother, and she’s a friend of mine, so I’m helping with the investigation of the murder.”
Olivia laughed and said, “I think she’s everyone’s friend.”
“Yes, she’s in a category all by herself. Anyway, David was with the Forestry Service and was murdered the afternoon your picture was taken. While the coroner can’t tell the exact time he was murdered it was very close to the time you were seen there.”
“Oh, no! I remember seeing something about it on television and now that you’ve told me, I do recall seeing a Forestry Service car in the parking lot when I left. That’s awful.”
“Olivia, why were you out at the Jefferson property? What were you doing there?”
“When I entered Berkeley I thought I wanted to teach English, but the more I learned about global warming and the effect it was going to have on the world, I realized that was a lot more important than studying poets and writers from hundreds of years ago. I changed my major to Environmental Sciences this year. I had a call from a friend of mine the day before I went out to the property. He taught the Introduction to Environment class I was taking. He told me that a Lotis Blue butterfly had been sighted on some lumber property in Red Cedar. He knew I lived in Red Cedar and asked if I could meet him, and he could follow me to the property, since he’d never been to Red Cedar.”
“How well did you know him when you were at Berkeley, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I don’t mind,” Olivia said. “I didn’t know him very well. He was a couple of years older than me and was working on his master’s degree. That’s why he was a teaching assistant. We had coffee a couple of times after class. We never dated or anything. We really were just friends.”
“I wasn’t implying otherwise. I’m just trying to understand your relationship with him.”
“I understand, anyway, I met him that afternoon, and he followed me in his car to the Jefferson Lumber Company property. After we parked, I was curious and asked him about this butterfly. He told me about it being on the Endangered Species List, and that one had been spotted there.”
“Did you see one?” Liz asked.
“No. Trace, that’s his name, thought he saw one, and he went charging off into the woods to try and catch it. He’d even brought a butterfly net with him, if you can believe that. He ran farther and farther back into the forest. It was obvious he was pretty excited about the whole thing. He said if he could find the butterfly it would not only help him with getting his master’s degree, it would probably assure him of being admitted into the doctoral program at Berkeley.”
“Yes, I can sure see where that would have been a coup.”
“Very much so.”
“What happened after he chased the butterfly?”
“I never saw him again. I waited over fifteen minutes for him to come back, but he never did. Finally, I had to leave. You see, my mother had a heart attack a few months ago, and I’m helping take care of her and my sisters. As it turned out I probably could have stayed a little longer, because my sisters went to a friend’s house that afternoon.”
“What’s the full name of the young man you were with that day?”
“His name is Trace Logan.”
“Do you know where he lives?”
“I believe he said he grew up in Sacramento. I think he told me his father’s a professor at the University of California at Davis. He’s with the Environmental Sciences Department. It’s probably not surprising that Trace wants to be a professor in Environmental Sciences.”
“Olivia, I know your time is almost up. I want to show you a photograph that was taken about twenty minutes after the photograph of you was taken. Is the person in this photograph Trace Logan?”
“Yes, that’s Trace.” She took the photograph from Liz and held it in her hand while she studied it. Liz noticed that Olivia seemed to have a puzzled look on her face.
“Is something wrong?” Liz asked.
“It’s this strange thing. I would have sworn that Trace had brown eyes. I thought I remembered them from when I was a student in his class. They were kind of puppy like, you know, all soft and warm, but in this photo and also when I saw him at the Jefferson property, his eyes were almost green. I told my mom about it, and she said maybe he wore a special type of contact lens which would explain it. I don’t know, it’s just kind of strange. Trace wasn’t into fashion, so I find that kind of hard to
believe, but it’s the only explanation that makes sense, unless I was completely mistaken about his brown eye color.”
“I have no idea why there might be a difference in his eye color. I, too, have heard that some people wear contact lens as a fashion accessory, but it seems to be more common among women rather than men. Anyway, I know you have to leave. I’ll take care of the check, and I need to give this harness my dog is wearing back to Gertie.”
“I wondered about that. I’ve never seen a dog in here before, and you don’t look like you need a therapy dog.”
“Don’t tell anyone, but Gertie likes Winston. She bought a harness with the words “Therapy Dog” on it for him at a garage sale, so he can come in here with me. Actually, I think it’s kind of cute, and it stops people from complaining about a dog being in a restaurant. Anyway, if you find something out about Trace or remember anything else that might be related to the murder, I’d like to know.”
“If I hear from him I’ll let you know. Be sure and tell Gina hi for me. Tell her I’ll call her as soon as my mom gets better, and I have a little more time for myself.”
“I will and good luck with your new job. Don’t give up on getting your college degree. You can think of this time you’re spending with your mother as a little hiccup.”
“I don’t know, I think it’s more of a burp,” she said laughing as she scooted out of the booth.
CHAPTER 25
Liz left the diner feeling unsettled. Her niggle was clamoring for attention, and she wasn’t sure about what. The more she thought about her conversation with Olivia and the color of Trace’s eyes, something didn’t seem right. Olivia seemed like a highly intelligent young woman. The fact she would leave college to help her family and was managing to take care of her mother and two sisters, plus hold a job, said a lot for the young woman.
I need to call Sean and see if he can come up with anything on Trace. Should have called him earlier. He’s been a huge help to me on other cases. How lucky am that I my husband’s law firm probably has the best private investigator probably on the West Coast. He can find things out that no one else can. Definitely can use his help about now.
As soon as she and Winston got back to the lodge she sat down and called Sean. A moment later she heard, “Liz, how are you? I haven’t talked to you in a long time. Now that Roger opened the office in Red Cedar, I talk to him once in a while, but it’s not like it was when he worked here at the San Francisco office. I’m assuming you’d like my help on something. What can I do for you?”
She told him about the case she was working on and then began to tell him why she’d called. “Would you see if you can find out about a young man named Trace Logan? He’s a master’s degree student in Environmental Sciences at UC Berkeley and is a teaching assistant there. He’s about 6’0” tall and has brown hair. From the photograph I have he doesn’t look like he’s overweight or underweight, just average.”
“You can stop there, Liz. I know you have the ability to scan a photograph and send it to me. You’ve done it before. Just send his photo to me, and I’ll take it from there. Anything else I should know?”
“His father’s a professor at UC Davis, and Trace grew up in Sacramento. Since his father teaches so close to Sacramento, I imagine his father still lives there. I don’t know about his mother. Oh, there is one thing that’s odd.” Liz told him about Olivia and the confusion over the color of Trace’s eyes.
“Liz, you caught me at a really good time. I finished up a report a few minutes ago, and I have a meeting with one of the partners in a couple of hours, so I can get right on this. I’ll call you when I know something.”
“Thanks, Sean. You can bill Roger for this and tell him it’s about his Jefferson Lumber Company client,” she said smiling.
“Liz, you’ve listened to my lady friend problems a few times, and I appreciate it. As the old saying goes, this one is on the house.”
“Thanks, Sean.”
She heard footsteps coming down the hall and a moment later Bertha walked into the room carrying a number of files. “Did you have a chance to check out the applications of the people I hired? I know you trust my judgment, but I like you to know what I’m doing.”
“Bertha, you’re absolutely right. I trust your judgment completely, and it looks like you did a great job by hiring that group. At some point we’re either going to have to build more cottages or stop hiring people. What percent of the spa appointments are from people who aren’t staying here?”
“About seventy-five percent. Most of them are from San Francisco or people staying at a couple of the bed and breakfasts in town or in nearby towns. I don’t think we need to build any more cottages, but if this keeps up we may have to expand the spa. I brought you some mock-ups of ads I’d like to run in a few papers and believe it or not, even on Facebook. The spa already has a page on it, and we get a lot of customers from that source. Thought we ought to up the ante, so to speak, and increase our presence on Facebook.”
“I’ve got a little time right now,” Liz said, taking the files from Bertha. “I’ll let you know what I think, but I doubt I’ll be able to improve on what you’ve come up with.”
“I don’t know about that. See you later,” she said taking the personnel applications off of Liz’s desk.
*****
Liz immersed herself in the ads Bertha had prepared and hoped that the cost of the ads would be offset by bringing in new customers. The ringing of her phone jolted her out of her thoughts. She looked at the screen and saw that the call was from Sean.
“Good grief, Sean. That was fast.”
“Well, when you’re only twenty-two years old, you don’t have much of a past, so there’s not that much to discover about the young man named Trace Logan, however, I did find the answer to the difference in eye colors. Trace has an identical twin. I did a little research, and even though they’re identical twins, it’s possible for their eye color to be different. From what you told me I think Trace probably is on the brown end of the hazel spectrum, and his brother, whose name is Kyle, is on the green end of the spectrum. That takes care of the eye color confusion.
“I didn’t find much out about Trace other than what you told me, at least nothing that will probably help you. I took the liberty of researching his brother, and he’s a different story. Kyle has been very active in almost every environmental battle in California for the last five years. He works for the California Forestry Service and …”
He heard Liz’s sharp intake of breath. “Liz, what’s wrong?”
“I find that frightening. I mean David Sanders, the man who was murdered, was employed by the Forestry Service, and now you’re telling me that Kyle is as well. Was he with the office in Sacramento?”
“Yes. He’s also been very involved in all different types of efforts to save endangered species. One you’ve probably heard about in the local media is a little fish found in the waters near Sacramento called the Delta Smelt. It’s on the Endangered Species List, and Kyle has been active in seeking protection for it. He was part of the group that successfully stopped the pumping of water from Northern California to Southern California. It’s caused a huge uproar in the farming communities of the Central Valley.”
“Oh, dear,” Liz said, involuntarily.
“Why the ‘oh dear’?” Sean asked.
“I don’t like what I’m thinking. Sean, thanks for your help. I think I need to tell Roger what I’ve found out. He’s always a good sounding board.”
“Do me a favor, Liz. I know you have a tendency sometimes to go off half-cocked. If you can’t get ahold of Roger, I’ll say it for him. Don’t do anything that could be dangerous. Hear me?”
“Yes, I promise I won’t. Thanks again. I’ll talk to you soon.”
As she was calling Roger, her phone buzzed. She switched to the incoming call and answered it. “This is Liz Langley.”
“Liz, I’m glad I got ahold of you. This is Joan Markham with the Markham Art Gallery.”
&
nbsp; “Joan, how nice to hear from you. I hope this is about making a reservation here at the spa.”
“Actually, it’s not. I told you about my compulsion to take photographs, and I thought you should know about what I’ve seen recently. Every day for the last few days I’ve seen the young man who was in the photograph I gave you go onto the Jefferson Lumber property that’s across the road from my gallery. He always had a butterfly net with him, so I figured he’d spotted some rare type of butterfly on the Jefferson property, but I did think it was a little odd.”
“I think it’s odd, too, and with what I just found out only minutes ago, I think it’s even odder.”
“I’d like to hear what you have to say, but let me finish telling you about him. He came back this afternoon, just a few minutes ago, and what’s of concern to me is that he was carrying a large bag from the hardware store. I shop there, so I recognized the name on the bag. I wouldn’t be concerned except I recently saw a show on TV about something called tree spiking. It talked about how people who didn’t want trees to be cut down drove long heavy spikes into the trees. Then when the property owner starts to harvest the trees the chainsaw hits the steel spike and the saw literally explodes. It often results in people being hurt. Sometimes it’s a lumberjack, and other times it’s someone at the sawmill who gets injured or even killed.”
“I’d forgotten about the practice of tree spiking. I remember seeing something awhile ago regarding it on some science show my husband was watching. Apparently the practice of spiking trees is a terribly dangerous and malicious thing to do. Do you think there’s some relationship between tree spiking and the young man you saw going into the forest carrying a bag from the hardware store?”
“I have no idea, but I can tell you this. The bag appeared to be quite heavy, and he was having trouble holding it in one hand because he was carrying a small sledge hammer in his other hand. It just seemed very strange to me, and I thought you might want to know about it. I would have called the police, but I was afraid I’d get that ignorant chief of police. I met him once and long ago decided if I ever had a problem, he’d be the last person I’d call.”
The Blue Butterfly: A Liz Lucas Cozy Mystery Page 10