by Lynn Cahoon
The story of my life.
“Look, keep me informed. I’m digging through the city records now. My friend Amy knows a history professor who may be willing to help. You work on your end, and I’ll do the same. I’m not going down without a fight.” I stared at him. “I’m not kidding.”
He sighed. “I’ll keep digging. Maybe I can find an earlier map showing the mission location. There has to be one somewhere.” Frank walked away without another word.
I watched the man who’d thought his career had moved out of this satellite office into the big leagues of history protectors. He’d talked about writing a book about the find. He probably would have been able to retire and teach as he chose. Now he was about to become the laughingstock of his industry. And he blamed me for raising his hopes.
“I’ll call you,” I said to his retreating back. I must seem like a love-starved groupie. I didn’t care. The sun blinded me when I left the building. I hadn’t realized how dark the hallway had been until I’d stepped into the light. The sun’s warmth immediately lightened my mood. Maybe not to happy level, but at least I didn’t feel hopeless anymore.
I slid my sunglasses on and decided to drive to the car dealership. Time to rip the Band-Aid off.
As I pulled my Jeep into a parking spot at the dealership, a man came out to greet me. “My name’s Mitch, and my goal today is to leave you completely satisfied with your visit.”
I glanced around at the cars parked nearby. Maybe I’d stopped at the wrong place. No, it appeared to be a car dealership. I glanced at Mitch. “We’ll see.”
He chuckled. “Honestly, it’s the corporate greeting, but I’m getting pretty good at satisfying my customers. What brings you in today? You looking to trade up?”
I shook my head. “Trade, yes. Up, no. I don’t need anything fancy. I want a car I can drive and trust. No hidden compartments, no rearview cameras. Just a Jeep, like the one I have now.” I slapped the side of my vehicle.
“Well, satisfying you may be the easiest challenge I’ve had all day.” He pointed to the right side of the parking lot. “Let’s head over there and I can show you a few choices we have in a ‘nonfancy’ model.”
As we walked through the line of too bright and shiny cars, one thought kept circling. Laboratory results had come back and given Greg a clue. What could have been found in Craig’s body? The obvious answer was drugs. Buttoned-up Craig? Didn’t seem to fit. The man was so uptight he didn’t wear anything unstarched.
“Do you want to look at something else?” Mitch seemed worried. I’d been quiet too long I’d guessed.
I refocused on the here and now. Craig’s possible drug use would have to be thought through some other time. “Do you have one in blue?” I loved the simplicity of the Jeep, basic edition. My only upgrade, I wanted a hardtop this time. I climbed into the vehicle, loving the feel of the leather seats. Basic sure had improved since the last time I’d purchased a car. Of course, the price would reflect that. A CD player, stereo, and hands-free phone system, and I was in love. The fact it was a stick made it heaven.
“You want to take it for a test drive?” Mitch regarded me, hopeful.
I nodded.
Mitch broke out a smile and sprinted to the dealership building. He called to me, “I’ll be right back with the keys.”
While he was gone, I sat in my soon-to-be new car and thought about what the tests had shown on Craig. The questions kept circling, giving me a headache. By the time Mitch had jogged back with the dealer plate and the keys, I wanted to cry.
Thank God the test drive gave me something new to think about. The car rode smooth. I loved the acceleration when I left a stop sign, and on the highway, the Jeep wanted to fly. I should have listened to Greg before. Buying a new car wasn’t scary. I pulled back into the car lot and parked next to my old Jeep. And my heart sank. How could I give up something I’d loved so deeply? But it was time. I knew it, Greg knew it, and even my new friend Mitch knew it.
I told Mitch I’d take the car and followed him into his office. After signing the paperwork and writing a bigger check than I’d ever imagined, I went back to my Jeep to clean out the remnants of almost ten years. I’d bought the Jeep right out of college. My first action as a real adult, getting debt to pay along with my student loans. But I’d paid off the loan and driven the car long past its prime. Now it was time to say good-bye.
Mitch helped me move the stuff. “I’m sure we’ll sell this off the lot rather than sending it to auction. For the age, it’s in great shape. Some kid will be drooling over this as soon as we put it up.”
I didn’t respond. Thinking of someone else driving around in my car hurt a little—until I got into the new version, turned up the volume on the CD player, and sang my heart out with an old Dixie Chicks CD. Driving down Highway 1, the ocean to my right and rolling hills to the left, I rolled the windows down to let in the sea air.
As I neared South Cove, I realized I was close to The Castle. The place had been closed right after the murder, but from the sign, Greg must have okayed the reopening. I hadn’t been on a tour since my first visit to South Cove. Turning left on the road, I decided it was time for another one.
I parked at the end of the lot, trying to keep my new car as new as possible. I walked up to the entry gate. I slipped a twenty to the girl who sat behind the ticket counter. Her name tag read LISA. This must be the girl trying to break Nick’s heart. She wore more makeup than I owned. “One, please.”
The girl didn’t even look up from her texting. She slipped me a ticket and my change. “Last tour starts in ten minutes. Meet the guide by the Grecian pool to your left.”
“Hey, Lisa?” Using the girl’s name made her actually look up at me. “Were you here the night Craig was killed?”
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I already talked to the cops. Who are you?”
“Just an interested friend.” I wondered what I would ask if she opened up to me. Honestly, I knew she wasn’t going to blurt out, “I killed Craig,” but I thought maybe she would give me some kind of clue. “So you were here?”
She nodded. “I’d stayed over to help get ready for the weekend. I get a lot of overtime that way, if I want to help set up new exhibits or bring up light stuff from the truck. Craig had gotten in a new truckload from his cargo bin down at the docks. And boy, was he antsy about the contents.”
“Why do you think that? Did he say something?” Now we were getting somewhere. I bet she hadn’t told this to the police.
“He made me stay outside until he’d gone through the entire truck. Then he stomped off without telling me where to even put the stuff. Finally, I just shoved everything into the lobby and clocked out. I couldn’t even find him to tell him I was leaving.” Lisa frowned. “Then the next day, I show up and the cops won’t even let me in to work. I lost three days’ pay. I needed that money. I’m saving up for a car.”
“So you think Craig was looking for something?” I asked, leaning in closer.
“Duh. But he didn’t find it. He had a mean streak when he got mad. So I stayed away.”
I didn’t know what else to ask, so I told her to come in to the shop when I was working and I’d treat her to a coffee. Then I said good-bye.
She nodded and returned to her texting.
I wandered around the perfectly landscaped yard, marveling at the beauty Craig had managed to create. For a man who didn’t have a nice bone in his body, he knew how to make The Castle absolutely lovely. The walls gleamed and the flowers bloomed bright against the white buildings. I walked down the steps to the Greek pool and felt like I was on the set of an old Hollywood movie. The stone gleamed without a speck of dirt. Southern California wasn’t the only place dealing in illusion. We were pretty good at keeping up appearances here, as well.
An older couple carefully followed me down the stairs. “Can you believe it, Harold? We’re at the same pool where he used to have orgies.” The heavyset woman glanced around at the flowers. “I bet they walked aroun
d here, naked as jaybirds, trying to get a tan while they were fornicating.”
Her husband didn’t seem impressed. “Let’s go on the tour. You’ve been talking for weeks about this, Marge. Let’s not get freaked out.”
“Don’t you feel the history here?” Marge wasn’t letting her fantasy go. She glanced at me. “You feel it, I can see it in your face.”
I smiled, trying to keep from getting into the fight. “I’m just waiting for the tour.”
Marge didn’t take the hint. She even stepped closer. Putting her head near mine, she whispered, “A man was killed here last week. I’m so excited. Do you think they’ll show us where he was killed?”
I felt sick. “I don’t think so.”
The woman pursed her lips. “You’re probably right. When we went to Graceland they wouldn’t let us upstairs at all. Now, what kind of place holds a tour of half a house?”
“I think there are off-limits areas here, too.” I wondered where our tour guide was so he could start taking these off-the-wall questions. I was here to investigate, not deal with Marge’s issues.
A tall man dressed in kakis and a polo shirt came up to the pool area and smiled at the couple. “Hey, I’m Daniel. I’ll be taking you on your tour. Hey, Jill, you here about the job opening?”
I shook my head. “Nope, I had the afternoon off and thought I’d take a quick tour so I can better sell the site at the coffee shop.” As I followed Daniel through the main house, I’d realized I’d missed an opportunity. What job? My mind wandered while I focused on the dark furniture surrounding me. I’d always loved the large meeting room lined with choir pews brought over from Europe. The walls were covered with tapestries taken from castles. The owner had known his history. And the original owner had been a hoarder, gathering up priceless antiques like they were collectible stuffed animals. The place was packed with museum-quality items. No wonder Josh idolized Craig. Managing a place like this must have been an antique lover’s dream job.
I thought about Josh in his threadbare suit and shirts, off-white from years of washing. Who would be the next manager of The Castle? Craig hadn’t only managed the place, he’d been a part-owner, running the day-to-day operations for the investment group listed on the deed. For a split second, the question of Josh killing Craig for a chance at the job ran through my mind. I moved closer to Daniel, and while the couple admired a set of tapestries, I asked, “The job? Are they already replacing Craig?”
Daniel nodded. “And it’s a sweet package. You get the house in the back along with almost a six-figure salary. No wonder Craig could drive such a posh ride.”
The couple seemed to be arguing about what story the tapestry was telling. He smiled. “I put in my application, but I think without a degree, I’m a dark horse.”
“Do you know who else is applying?” I might as well see what the guy knew.
“The only ones I know for sure, besides me”—he grinned—“are Brenda, Craig’s ex. She told me she put in an application. I guess she used to teach at some art school. And that new guy with the antique store.”
“Josh Thomas?”
Daniel checked his watch and waved the couple closer. “We need to get this train moving, folks.” He glanced down at me. “I can’t believe that they might hire the guy, he’s a walking heart attack. I think the only thing he wants is the health insurance.”
As the tour continued, Daniel pointed out the large collection of Madonna and Child paintings The Castle owned—a strange collecting hobby. I still was thinking about Craig and his murder. By the time we’d gone through the main house and a separate cottage kept for the wealthy owner’s guests back in the day, I’d stopped listening to Daniel’s chatty tour. There was something I was missing, but try as I might, I couldn’t get my mind to focus.
I slipped onto a stone bench and let the tour pass. Daniel saw me and came back. “You okay, Jill?”
I pulled out a bottle of water I kept in my purse and took a sip. “I guess I just need to sit for a bit.” I pointed to the walkway leading to the main gate. “If I go that way, I’m back at the parking lot, right?”
Daniel nodded. “I can walk you there.”
“I want to see the guesthouse. Didn’t the Beatles stay there?” Marge called out to Daniel, clearly not happy with the delay.
I waved him on. “You finish the tour. I’ll sit and get more of this water down me, then I’ll head to the parking lot. Probably just too much sun.”
He looked at Marge and her husband, who were staring now, then back to me. “If you were anyone else, I wouldn’t leave you. So don’t make me regret this.”
“Thanks, Daniel.” I waited for them to disappear down the bend in the path that took them to Casa del Sola. Then I turned left and tucked through a bush, ending up at the manager’s bungalow. The place where Craig was killed. Yellow police tape still hung on the trees around the door, but the seal on the door was gone.
“In for a penny,” I whispered, then slipped on the rubber gloves I used to wash the floors at the shop.
Opening the door, I found the living room much like it must have been the night Craig was killed. Furniture was upended, couch pillows torn apart, their stuffing coming out like a white waterfall. Whoever killed Craig had also been looking for something. Like the map showing that my mission wall was a fraud? Another clue that pointed to me.
I left the living room and eased down the hall, careful not to touch anything or even breathe too hard. The master bedroom hadn’t been ransacked. Craig’s bed sat neat and made in the middle of the carefully decorated room. A pile of books sat on his nightstand, and my heart sank. They were all research books focused on the Spanish settlers and early California history.
I opened one of the books. The insides had been carved out to create a hiding space. I shuddered. Who would deface a book like this? Then I realized, the hole in the middle was just big enough to hide a stack of bills. Craig had been making his own safety deposit boxes, hiding money in books he could keep close. I opened another book: same hole, no money.
My cell chirped and I jumped, knocking the books off the table. I hurried to pick them up and answered the phone, holding the cell to my ear with my shoulder. “Hello?”
“Hey, sexy.” Greg’s voice made me feel guilty, like he knew exactly where I was standing.
“Hey, yourself.” I picked up the last book and a sheet of paper fell out. Picking it up, I saw a some sort of drawing on the page.
“Where are you?”
“I took a Castle tour, I’m just coming out. Why?” I tried to keep the defensive tone out of my voice as I shoved the paper into my pocket and headed out of the bungalow.
I hadn’t learned anything new, except Craig had liked local history and his killer had been looking for something. Both clues pointed to me as a possible suspect. I quietly shut the door and realized Greg had been talking. I slipped my gloves into my purse, then grabbed the phone. “Sorry, I think I lost you there for a minute, what did you say?”
He chuckled. “I said I’m close by, I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”
As I followed the path to the exit, I wondered why Greg wanted to meet. He could just want to see me. Yeah, right.
As I stood in the parking lot at the exact place I’d fought with Craig, a motorcycle with a rider dressed in black leather with a full face helmet pulled into the parking lot. Lisa closed and locked the information booth, putting a CLOSED sign in the window. I watched her climb on the back of the bike, wrapping her arms tightly around the man, and the two took off.
“That’s Lisa’s boyfriend, if you were wondering.”
I started and turned. Greg stood behind me, his arms folded and his eyes dark. I couldn’t explain away my presence here at The Castle so I didn’t even try. “When did Nick get a bike?”
“Nick Michaels? He didn’t. I think Sadie would kill him if he tried. That’s not Nick. That’s Reno Hendricks. He’s a mechanic over in Bakerstown.” Greg came closer. “I don’t see your car. Don’
t tell me you ran this far.”
I smiled. “No, I have a car.”
Greg’s glance swept the now almost-empty parking lot and settled on the new Jeep. “You finally listened to me?”
Slapping him on the arm, I pouted. “I’m not stubborn. Or stupid.”
Greg lifted his eyebrows at my comment. “And yet I find you here, at the crime scene.”
“I wanted to talk to Lisa. She says Craig was upset about the delivery the night he died. That there was something missing in the truck full of antiques when she helped move them into storage.”
Greg put his hand on my back and walked me toward my new Jeep. “Yes, I know. I interviewed her as part of my investigation.” He opened the door and motioned me into the driver’s seat.
“And did you know Nick thought he was Lisa’s boyfriend?”
Greg shrugged. “Some women like to keep a spare on the line, just in case.” He leaned in to check out the interior and I could smell his aftershave. “It doesn’t mean she’s a killer.”
“I never said she killed Craig. But I know I didn’t do it. So who else does that leave?”
He lifted my face to his and kissed me. “You’re going to be okay. I’m going to find the killer. I always do.” He smiled. “You did good with the Jeep. It suits you.”
I smiled and smoothed my hand over the leather seats. “It’s a little more than I wanted to spend, but I fell in love with the beast as soon as I saw her.”
“I bet you made some salesman’s day, walking in with a cash sale.” Greg leaned against the car. “You want to take me out to dinner to celebrate? That little place down on the highway overlooking the ocean?”
“You want me to buy you dinner after spending this kind of money today?” I held my hands out in mock surprise.
“Sure, then you can tell me what you were looking for during the tour.” He tapped my nose with his finger. “And your theories about the killing. I know you’ve come up with at least a few.”
I opened my mouth to deny it, but then thought better. If Greg was asking to hear me out, I would lay my cards on the table. He could tell me to stop after I gave him the piece of information that worried me the most. The one giving me clear motive to kill.