Murder and Mega Millions: A High Desert Cozy Mystery

by Dianne Harman

  CHAPTER 19

  The following morning Marty leaned over, kissed Jeff, and said, “Sorry to tell you this, Detective, but it’s time to get up. I’m sure you have a busy day and I start the Ross appraisal today. I’ll take the dogs out.”

  His answer was an unintelligible grunt.

  When she’d finished letting the dogs commune with nature, she made coffee, sliced some bagels and tomatoes, and took honey mustard, an avocado, and smoked salmon out of the refrigerator. She loaded the various different toppings on a large breakfast tray and placed it on the kitchen table, then walked down the hall to the bathroom, a coffee cup in each hand.

  “Thanks, sweetheart,” Jeff said, grabbing one of the cups from her and taking a gulp. “I need this since my caffeine level has gone down to zero. I’m kind of like a car that needs gas, only in my case it’s the caffeine I get from a cup of strong, black coffee. Marty, I really need to get a handle on this case. The chief has been bugging me because Melissa Ross was sort of a celebrity, and a celebrity’s murder has to be solved quickly or the natives get restless.”

  “Seems like kind of a cold calculated approach. I would think all murders should get the same degree of attention from the police department.”

  “In a perfect world, Marty, they would, but the world isn’t perfect. I didn’t make the rules, but if I want to keep my job, I darn well better play by them.” He put the cup down and smoothed his short sideburns in the mirror.

  “Okay, I get your point. Your breakfast is on the kitchen table. The only thing you need to do is toast your bagel and then top it off with whatever looks good to you.”

  “I’m on it. I’ll be leaving as soon as I finish eating. Actually, I might just take it with me. I really do need to get to my office, so have a good day, and check in with me if you discover anything I should know about while you’re on your appraisal, and I’ll see you tonight.”

  Marty took her coffee into the bedroom and got ready to go to the Ross home, making sure she had all of her appraisal equipment. She got the dogs organized for the day and knocked on Laura’s door. When Laura opened it she said to Marty, “I gather by the photo bag on your shoulder and the big tote, that you’re on your way to the appraisal. Right?”

  “Yes. I’m going to be gone most of the day. I slipped a note under Les’ door, asking him if he’d kind of watch over the dogs, although they have a doggie door so they can get out to the courtyard. But I’d just like someone to be on the lookout in case there’s a problem. Since he said he was going to work on a painting after we finished dinner last night, I figured he was probably awake most of the night, so I don’t want to bother him right now. I’m sure he’s sleeping in.”

  “No problem. I’ll check in with him later,” Laura said as she tried to stifle a yawn. “I know he loves the dogs, so I’m sure he won’t mind. I’ll be curious if you find out anything when you’re at the Ross home. Give me a call if you need me.”

  “Will do, and thanks!”

  As she walked towards her car, Patron, who was standing in front of the gate, started growling as if he was telling Marty he was not letting her go to Melissa’s home. For several minutes, Marty tried unsuccessfully to get him to move, but to no avail. Finally, she retraced her steps to Laura’s house and knocked on the door again.

  “Thought you were leaving,” Laura said.

  “I did too, but it looks like Patron has other plans for me, since he won’t let me out the gate, and he’s growling. I really need to get to that appraisal. Could you do your woo-woo stuff and calm him down enough so I can leave?”

  “Let me see what I can do,” Laura said, following Marty out to the front gate. She knelt down and spoke softly to Patron for several minutes, then she stood up. “Okay, I think he’s calmed down enough that you can leave. I’m certain this has to do with the Ross murder. I have a feeling you’ll know more later.”

  “Thanks, Sis,” Marty said as she quickly opened the gate and walked to her car. She glanced back and saw that Patron and Duke were on their bellies behind the gate, in their usual places, ready and waiting for Marty to return.

  CHAPTER 20

  When Jeff got to his office the red light on the phone was blinking, indicating he had a message. He pressed the button to retrieve his voicemail. “Good morning, Jeff. This is Chief Ellsworth. I have some information regarding Christopher Ross that I think you’ll be interested in. Give me a call when you get a chance.”

  While he was on the phone, his secretary, Luisa, brought him a cup of coffee, something she did each morning. She knew that her boss worked much better when his coffee cup was full. Instead of returning to her desk, she stayed in his office until he’d finished listening to the message.

  “Sir, you might want to go into the men’s room and wipe off whatever it is you spilled on your shirt. Probably wouldn’t look too professional if the other detectives that work for you see it.”

  Jeff glanced down at his shirt and saw the yellow stain she was referring to. “Thanks, Luisa. I ate breakfast on the way here. It’s probably some honey mustard. I appreciate it.” He followed her out of his office and went to the men’s room and dabbed the spill off of his shirt with a paper towel.

  Honey mustard was the bad boy, he thought, but it sure was good. Well worth the spill. Wish I’d brought two of those bagels in the car with me, rather than just one.

  When he got back to his office he called Chief Ellsworth on his personal line. “That was fast,” the chief said.

  “Obviously, I got your message. What did you find out?”

  “I sent one of my new men out to where this guy Ross lives. He said it really was a tarpaper shack. There’s a lot of them in that area. The people who live out there aren’t even the working poor. They’re just poor.”

  “Yeah, I remember thinking when I drove through Barstow several years ago the city certainly was no stranger to an impoverished population. Actually, to be socially correct, I suppose I should use the term ‘economically disadvantaged’ rather than saying just plain old ‘dirt poor.’ Anyway, you know what I mean.”

  “True, but fortunately, we don’t have a lot of crime problems out there,” the chief said. “Our problems are more gang-related in the city. Anyway, here’s what my guy got. He went up to the shack’s door, or what would barely pass for being a door, and knocked. No one came to the door. There was a rusted old truck parked next to the shack, so he assumed someone was there. He walked around to the side of the shack and looked in a window. A man was asleep on the couch, although from the number of empty beer cans scattered around on the floor next to the couch, my guy assumed he was passed out. No amount of knocking on the door roused him.”

  Jeff thought for a few seconds. “Well, that accounts for yesterday, but that doesn’t clear him on the day of the murder.”

  “I’m getting to that. My guy talked to a couple of Ross’ neighbors. They verified that Mr. Ross had left his shack a couple of times for about a half an hour. They said that was his normal behavior. Evidently, when he ran out of beer, he’d go to the nearby gas station that had a convenience store and get more.”

  Jeff scribbled down some notes on the pad on his desk as the chief continued speaking. “They said he hadn’t been gone from the shack for as long as either of them could remember for more than a half an hour on any given day. That would include the day that Melissa Ross was murdered. I think that effectively takes him off of the viable suspects list, because there is no way he could have made a round trip to Palm Springs and back in half an hour. He couldn’t even drive to Palm Springs in that amount of time. Hope that helps.”

  “It does. As you well know, eliminating a suspect is an important part of solving a crime, but I just wish I had a viable suspect about now. Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

  “Think you got that wrong, Jeff. I’ll be the appreciating one when I get a notice from FedEx that an adult must be home to sign for that wine you’re going to be sending me.” The chief let out a chuckle. “
Here’s my home address, and if you need anything else, happy to help.” He gave Jeff his street name, the number, and his zip code. When he’d finished, he ended the call.

  Well, one down, Jeff thought. That leaves the brother as the only viable suspect. Swell. I’m not seeing any ties to either of the women Laura talked about. This is really frustrating. He was staring into space, thinking about what to do next when his phone rang.

  “Sir, this is Ricky. If you have a minute, I’d like to tell you what I’ve found out about the victim’s brother and the poison dart frog.”

  “Now would be a good time. Come to my office.”

  *****

  “Have a seat, Ricky. Care for a cup of coffee?”

  “No thanks sir, I don’t drink it.” Ricky sat across from Jeff on the opposite side of his desk.

  Jeff got straight to the point. “Okay, what have you found out?”

  “First let me tell you about Ed Ross, the victim’s brother. He was a member of the East Side Victoria gang. It looks like he was the fall guy for a drug deal that went really bad. The rest of the gang members got away, but he was arrested and sentenced to twenty-five years in Kern Valley State Prison. He got out last week, which I think would make him a likely suspect. But here’s the thing. He was diagnosed with Valley Fever the day before he got out of prison, and it was pretty much a death sentence.”

  Jeff exhaled. “I’ve heard of a lot of people in that area getting Valley Fever. I’ve read it comes from something in the soil, and with the wind they get over there in the San Joaquin Valley, it travels fast.”

  “That goes with what I found out.”

  “So, he got out of prison,” Jeff said. “Since he probably didn’t have any money other than what the state gave him when he got out, and he was ill, were you able to find out where he went?”

  “Yes. I was pretty sure he didn’t have much money, so I didn’t bother checking airline manifests, instead I checked the buses.” Ricky glanced down at his notebook. “I figured he’d probably taken one out of Delano. He did.”

  “And rode it to Palm Springs. Right?”

  “Yes, sir. I found out he rented a room at a real flea bag of a motel, although I didn’t find that out from any motel or hotel list.”

  “All right, Ricky. I’ll bite.” Jeff was intrigued. “How did you find that out?”

  “Have no idea why I did what I did, but I checked with the coroner’s office to see if they’d had any deaths recently from Valley Fever. I was told a maid at a motel had discovered a male body in one of the rooms when she went to clean it. The coroner’s office determined that he’d died from Valley Fever. The identification they found in the room indicated the deceased individual was Ed Ross.”

  “Ricky, were you able to get the exact date of his death?”

  “Yes, sir. He died the day before Melissa Ross did. He was in the cooler at the county morgue when she was murdered.” The young detective sat back, clearly pleased by what he’d been able to find out.

  Jeff was quiet for several moments and then said, “Well, that’s the second suspect we can take off the possible suspects list. I was able to eliminate her uncle from what the Barstow police found out. This really puts me back to square one.”

  “Maybe not, sir. I did some research and found out some things about the poison dart frog I think you’ll be interested in.”

  “I’m all ears. What did you find out?”

  “I told you that I spent a lot of time in Costa Rica and even visited a store where they had poison dart frogs for sale. I think I also told you the man at the store said they smuggled a lot of them into the United States, particularly California, and that Palm Springs was often a destination point.”

  “Yes, Ricky, I remember. Go on.”

  “I speak Spanish pretty well, so I went to an area just outside of Palm Springs where a lot of Costa Ricans live. Seems like the whole neighborhood is made up of people that used to live in Costa Rica. For some reason, they’ve gotten a real stronghold in the gardening industry here. You know, all those golf courses have to be manicured by somebody, and a lot of them do that.”

  “Yes, I’ve seen a lot of Hispanics working on the golf courses as gardeners, but I didn’t know they were Costa Rican.”

  “They are. Anyway, I got to talking to some of them and mentioned the poison dart frog. I asked them if they knew anyone who had them. I told them I had a friend who collected strange animals, and I thought he might enjoy having one. Several of them said the only person they knew who had them was a man by the name of Hector Diaz. One of them laughed and said ‘You don’t want to know how he gets them.’ I laughed with them and told them I wouldn’t ask.”

  Jeff leaned towards him. “Did you find him?”

  “Yes. One of the men gave me directions to his ranch, if you want to call a couple of acres of dirt and a few shallow man-made ponds a ranch. There was a tiny little house on the property and that was it. About the only other things on the property were the ponds with bunches of leaves around them and some rain bird sprinklers. What was kind of surreal was that netting had been placed over the ponds the and surrounding leafy areas. It was actually pretty weird.”

  “It sounds like it. What was he like?”

  “He was a nice guy,” Ricky said, glancing down at his notebook again. “I’d say he was in his fifties. I told him I was interested in buying one of his frogs and told him the same story I’d told the people who referred me to him, namely, that I had a friend who collected strange animals. He took me out to one of the ponds covered with netting, and there must have been fifty frogs in it. They really are colorful. I saw blue ones, orange ones, yellow ones, and just about every other color in the rainbow.”

  Jeff was getting impatient. “Ricky, this is interesting, but I’m just not seeing a nexus to the Ross murder.”

  “I think there may be a link, and here’s why. Hector’s cell phone rang while we were out in the pond area, and he answered it. He talked to who I’m assuming was his niece, because he kept using the word, “sabrino,” which is Spanish for niece. They were talking about a family member’s upcoming quinceanera, you know, that big party they have when a girl turns 15. When they were finished with that, he started to say good-bye, and then he thanked her for sending her employer to him. He told her he was very happy because all the woman wanted was the secretion from the glands of the frog, and he could keep the frog. He told her the woman had paid him well.”

  “Were you able to find out who the woman was?” Jeff asked in anticipation.

  “Yes. When he ended the call, he apologized to me and said that his niece worked for a very wealthy woman who was known throughout the Palm Springs area for her valuable collections of art and antiques. He said that his niece often talked about the beautiful things that were in the home where she worked as a maid five days a week.”

  Jeff had been making notes. He stopped and looked up hopefully. “Tell me you got the name of the woman, and you’ll make the bad day I’m having look a lot better.”

  Ricky smiled. “I did. I said I knew a lot of people who were art and antique collectors, and I wondered if she was one of the people I know. He said her name was Rhonda Taylor. I looked her up and she’s married to some bucks up doctor who has a little honey on the side. I hope that helps.”

  “More than you know, Ricky, more than you know, but I just don’t quite know how I’m going to get from ‘A’ to ‘B’. Nice job. I’ll take it from here, although I’m not real sure where I’m going to take it. Don’t know if I’ll need it, but did you get the name of Mrs. Taylor’s maid?”

  “No, sir. I thought it might look like I was asking too many questions, but from the way he was talking, I got the impression that she was the only maid, as opposed to being one of several maids. If she’s the only one who works for Mrs. Taylor, it shouldn’t be too hard to find out her name.”

  “Great work, Ricky. I really appreciate how much you were able to find out in a short time. I may need your Spanish
speaking abilities later on, depending on where this goes.”

  “You know where to find me, sir,” Ricky said as he made his way out of Jeff’s office.

  CHAPTER 21

  When Marty arrived at the end of the Ross driveway, Isabella was waiting for her. Marty motioned for her to get in the car. “Good morning, Isabella, how are you today?”

  “I am well, thank you,” Isabella said and looked out the window as Marty drove up the long driveway and parked her car near the entryway.

  “Here are your keys. I understand you’ll be continuing to work here until the house is sold. If I have any questions regarding Miss Ross’ art or antiques, I’m hoping you can help me.”

  “I will try.” Isabella took the keys and opened the passenger side car door.

  This must be very hard for her, Marty thought. Hopefully, once she’s in the house, she’ll feel better. Anticipating something can often be worse than the real thing.

  A moment later they walked into the house. “I think I’ll start in the dining room and do one room at a time. That seems like the simplest way to handle this,” Marty said as she took the heavy camera off her shoulder and put it and her tote bag on the floor. For the next three hours she measured, dictated, and took photographs of Melissa’s collections.

  At noon she walked into the kitchen and said, “Isabella, I wasn’t sure if there would be any food here, so I brought my lunch. I have plenty if you’d like to share it.” Isabella had her back to Marty and silently shook her head. It became apparent that the young woman was avoiding her, and Marty had no idea why.

  She decided the best way to find out why was to ask. “Isabella, I can see that you’re upset. I’m sure this is a difficult time for you. May I help?”

  Isabella turned around, and Marty saw the tears in her eyes. “No. It is something I will have to live with.”

  “I don’t know what you mean, Isabella.” Marty pressed her. “What will you have to live with?”