MURDERED BY SUCCESS
Dianne Harman
(A Liz Lucas Cozy Mystery - Book 11)
Copyright © 2019 Dianne Harman
www.dianneharman.com
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without written permission except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Paperback ISBN: 9781074565992
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
We’ve all known people who have achieved a great deal of success at an early age. Often they’re just plain lucky, but sometimes they’re driven by childhood demons.
This is loosely based on several I’ve known over the years, but to my knowledge, none of them were murdered. However, many of their lives turned out quite differently than they thought they would. Too late, they discover that large amounts of money doesn’t guarantee happiness.
Thanks to all of you who contributed to Connor’s character. I hope, in the end, your lives turned out better than his.
To the people who so diligently and carefully prepare my books for publication, I can never thank you enough for your long hours and dedication. I’m honored you believe in me.
And to Tom, who unfailingly points out time lapses, character’s wrong names, and why certain things just can’t happen like I think they should. You make an honest writer out of me!
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Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
EPILOGUE
ABOUT DIANNE
COMING SOON!
PROLOGUE
Connor Moynahan grinned as he pumped Mr. Gascoyne’s plump hand in a firm handshake. “This is gonna’ be awesome!” he said, sounding like a teenager.
Although he’d just turned twenty-four, he still looked like a teen with big blue eyes that gave him a babyish look. He’d tried to grow a beard, but it had come in very wispy, which had annoyed him. Now that he had a thick silver wedding band on his finger, he looked a little less like a kid playing at work, and more like the CEO of Moynahan Developments, which he was.
To counteract the soft, boyish look, he’d had to become an absolute wolf in the boardroom. The smile that spread across his face as he shook Mr. Gascoyne’s hand was the first one he’d broken since he’d walked into the room. Although the deal wasn’t finalized on paper as yet, it was as good as done. He’d never had a deal unravel on him, because he followed up aggressively and got the signed contract in his hands before anyone could change their mind.
As soon as I get back to the Red Cedar Lodge and Spa, he thought, I’m calling Gascoyne’s assistant and having a copy of the contract sent to me immediately.
He hadn’t brought his own assistant, Julita Westcroft, to the meeting for quite a ridiculous reason. As he walked out of the office, he laughed at himself. Why had he been so paranoid? Of course she hadn’t been sent by some mysterious people who he thought wanted to do away with him.
Such thoughts were completely ridiculous, and he realized he needed to get them out of his mind. After all, who in the world would want to kill him?
That was something that worried him a lot lately, and the reason why he’d been so careful in hiring an assistant in the first place. At first his wife Charlotte had been the one who organized his calendar, sent out his letters, and passed on his very unusual demands to various hotels, business partners, and conference organizers.
But now she was far too pregnant, so pregnant, in fact, that she’d tried to convince him to postpone this final meeting until after the baby made its dramatic entrance into the world, which would be any day now.
But Connor just couldn’t postpone this meeting to close the deal. It had been the hardest win of his life. From smear campaigns, to threats on his life, to unfavorable terms in the contract, they’d tried it all. They’d even attempted to lowball him.
“They engaged in all those hostile acts just because they can’t stand the thought of a twenty-four-year-old having control over such a luxury hotel complex,” he’d said to both Charlotte and Julita. And it was probably true.
Property developers, real estate investors, and hotel proprietors had nothing but respect for Connor for how quickly he’d climbed his way to the top. However, they also despised how much they were forced to respect him. They were in their fifties and sixties. A forty-year-old seemed young in that business. To them, it looked like Connor just came from the womb with far too much money and far too much luck.
Others whispered about how he’d screwed over Joe Treadwell, his mentor. Still others said it was impossible to screw over Joe Treadwell, so it couldn’t be true. If anyone asked Connor, he said, “It’s a legal matter. I can’t discuss it.” And it was, because Joe was preparing to sue Connor for every last cent he had.
Anyhow, none of that mattered anymore because he’d struck the deal!
Connor walked out into the parking lot, and backed up and up and up again, until he could survey the front of the entire main hotel building.
“Mine,” he whispered to himself, “All mine.”
Well, technically, it was partly his and partly the banks and the rest belonged to his investors. But it was as good as his, because it was under his control.
He breathed in and out with pure, unadulterated happiness at the way things had gone. He felt as if he was in a state of absolute bliss. Everything looked brighter. As he hopped into his black Bentley Bentayga SUV, the leather felt even smoother than usual. He grinned at himself in the mirror before putting on his sunglasses. “Connor,” he smirked to himself, “You are the man.”
Then he took off. He decided he’d stop for a drink at a bar before going back to Red Cedar Lodge and Spa. He loved sitting alone at a bar and drifting off into his own world. Then he’d Facetime Charlotte before heading back to the lodge to call and see how she was doing.
He had to stay at the lodge a couple more days to tie up the loose ends of the contract and get the required signature on the dotted line, then he’d go home to support Charlotte during the birth of their child. For now, their housekeeper, a Czech woman named Elena, was there to make sure Charlotte was okay, and to dash to the store for any late-night ice-cream cravings she might have.
Connor reached the hotel complex gates and drove through them. It felt incredible knowing that in a few days, he’d be driving through them as the “owner.”
There was a long, straight road leading out of the hotel and toward the highway. Connor was about to let the Bentayga rip, when he saw somebody on the side of the road. He pulled over and after a quick conversation, let them get in the car.
It was a fatal mistake.
Because, less than twenty minutes later, Connor’s Bentley Bentayga was being consumed in a raging inferno in a nearby abandoned woodland. Connor was still sitting behind the wheel in the driver’s seat, but two bullets had been fi
red into his head, and the flames were beginning to catch his suit on fire.
The passenger he’d picked up was nowhere to be seen. They had run into the woods to bury the gun, and then they’d be sprinting, hitching, or doing anything they could, to get as far away from the scene of the crime as possible.
CHAPTER 1
Liz Lucas’ eyes scanned the printout checklist for what must have been the 100th time that day. She wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing that Connor Moynahan was arriving just before dinner or not. On one hand, at least she had all day to prepare, but on the other, the more she prepared, the more she worried.
Liz wasn’t one of nature’s worriers. That said, anyone would have been intimidated by the enormously long emails and requirements and checklists and questions sent over by Connor’s assistant, Julita Westcroft.
In the weeks leading up to the booking, every time Liz’s phone rang, she silently bet it was Julita, telling her that Connor only used blue towels – powder blue, not royal blue, or that he didn’t eat anything with the slightest trace of milk or gluten and that everything had to be stringently checked. That said, he would not be eating vegan food, and required some kind of meat or fish with every meal.
Liz went into the kitchen to check on Gina, who was preparing the dinner. “How’s it going, Gina?” Liz asked. “We certainly have an extremely particular guest coming.”
Gina grinned. “It sure sounds like it, but I’m always ready for a challenge.”
“What are you preparing?” Liz asked. “Something deliciously rustic and homemade as always, I trust.”
Gina held her hand to her chest and looked offended, even hurt. “Liz, would I ever do anything less?” Then she burst into laughter. “Of course it is. Here we have leg of lamb,” she said, pointing to the slow cooker. “It’s been on for several hours now. I’ll prepare that with mashed potatoes with soy milk and vegan butter, gravy, and cabbage. All of those were listed under his favorite foods on the sheet you gave me.”
“It sounds wonderful,” Liz said. Her mind was racing with all the jobs she had to complete and hoping she’d done everything correctly. Connor had booked every single one of the lodge’s ten cottages for a week, so that he’d be undisturbed by other guests.
Plus, there were, “safety issues” that Julita had mentioned in her emails, but hadn’t explained further. Liz had booked him in the best cottage, but still prepared all the others to the same high standard, in case he had a whim and wanted to change to a different one.
“Okay,” she said to Gina. “I need to get out the particular type of wine he asked for, and make sure I take the windchimes down.”
Gina looked at her quizzically. “Take the windchimes down? Why?”
“Julita says they bring back bad memories for him.”
Gina widened her eyes. “Memories? What memories? He’s only twenty-four years old.”
Liz smiled at her sadly. “Let’s say I think this young man has an interesting past. And how he’s become a multimillionaire at the age of twenty-four is beyond me. I know it’s in bad taste, but I did ask Professor Google how successful Mr. Moynahan is. Professor Google says he has a net worth of $50 million and rising.”
Gina shook her head. “What does one person do with all that money?”
Liz shrugged. “Good question.”
She went outside to make her final check on all the cottages. Her big boxer dog, Winston, followed at her heels, and she gently ruffled the fur on his neck. He looked up at her with his huge, loving eyes, and she smiled back down at him.
She wished her husband, Roger, was around, since he was great at this sort of thing. He had the kind of mind that could spot every detail and check off a list methodically. While Liz was perfectly capable of doing that, her mind tended to be a little spacey when she had a million things under the sun to do.
She was much better at sitting down with one difficult task and seeing it through to the end. Unfortunately for her, Roger had been away on business for the last few days, but thankfully he was returning late that evening, however it would be too late to help with the preparations for Connor Moynahan. In any case, it all had to be done.
She also checked in with her lodge and spa manager, Bertha. Apparently, Connor Moynahan wouldn’t use products with any unnatural ingredients, and wanted everything made from scratch, with labels detailing what each jar contained. He’d booked two full body massages with oil, one on the evening he was arriving, in just a few hours, and one for the following day. “How are you doing on the natural products, Bertha?” Liz asked.
Bertha, who was folding a sea of blue towels instead of the usual white ones, because that’s what Connor had requested, said, “Wonderfully, thank you. I infused some natural coconut oil with lavender, since it sounds like this poor man could do with some relaxation.
“That was simple enough. He requested that body lotion be applied after the massage, so I had to make that from scratch, which was a little more complicated, but here it is. What do you think?” She unscrewed a jar, and passed it over to Liz.
Liz smelled it. “Mmm. What is that? It smells delicious.”
“Honey, mostly, and I mixed in essential oils of cinnamon, frankincense, and rose. They all promote relaxation and soothing of the mind.”
Liz shook her head. “I could smell that all day. Delicious. I didn’t know it was possible to make this at home.”
“Oh, it’s very easy to make body butter,” Bertha said. “You melt shea butter and almond oil in a glass bowl above a pot of water, like you do when you melt chocolate. Then you stir it and add honey along with essential oils. Put it in the fridge for a while, then whip it up with a hand mixer. Put it back in the fridge for ten minutes and you’re done.”
Liz smiled. “Well, that doesn’t sound too hard. Maybe we should do this more often, like make our own spa line.”
“Great minds think alike,” Bertha said with a grin. “I was thinking we could use this as our signature fragrance, and not only use it in the spa, but also have products for sale. Body butters, hand creams, gel washes, even roll-on fragrance. We could package them beautifully, and then people can take that touch of luxury home with them.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Liz said. “And since they’ll always be reminded of us, they’ll be more likely to come back here, rather than go to another spa. Sounds like a great form of marketing.”
Bertha winked. “You got it.”
Liz loved talking business and strategy with Bertha. She just got it in a way not many other people did. Plus, Bertha loved people and enjoyed seeing them happy, which wasn’t surprising since she’d been a massage therapist before she’d become Liz’s manager for the lodge and the spa. Liz knew Bertha’s strategies and ideas were always in the best interest of their clients.
Liz left the spa confident that everything was in place for Connor Moynahan’s arrival.
As she was walking back to the lodge, to go to her downstairs apartment and have a final cup of coffee for the day, her phone beeped.
We’re a half hour away, the WhatsApp message from Julita read. Please do make sure the gate or front entrance is open, as it makes C very nervous if he has to wait. Thanks, Julita.
Thank goodness, Liz thought. She had enough time to have a cup of coffee looking out over the Pacific Ocean as the sun began to set. A little fifteen-minute oasis of calm would do her a world of good. She didn’t want to meet them frenzied, as if she’d been running around like a headless chicken.
Liz decided to set aside ten minutes for making sure she looked presentable, and the last five minutes to open up the gates and ensure she was there to meet Connor and Julita.
She patted Brandy Boy, her large St. Bernard, on the head, as she passed by him where he was lying in his usual place on the porch. When she went inside to fix her coffee, Winston laid down next to Brandy Boy and tucked his head down into his paws.
Liz sat out on the back porch, looking out at the ocean. It was a view that always took
her out of whatever was happening in the moment, and catapulted her into gratitude. I am so lucky, she thought. She’d never dreamed, when her former husband had died, that she’d ever again have anything resembling a good life.
At the time, it had felt like she’d never smile again. But here she was, with her heart healed and mended. She had the most wonderful husband in the world, a business she loved, the best colleagues, dogs who made her heart feel warm and fuzzy, children she adored, even though they lived away from her, and to top it all off, the most beautiful ocean view she could ask for. As she sipped her coffee and looked out over it, she felt like nothing in the world could ever possibly go wrong. All was right with the world.
After she’d freshened up, she went to wait for Connor and Julita. It didn’t take long for them to arrive. She’d had visions of Connor driving up in a chauffer-driven Rolls Royce, so she was very surprised to see him driving his own car, even if it was a Bentley SUV of some kind. She wasn’t a car buff, so she didn’t know the name of the model.
“Welcome to the Red Cedar Lodge and Spa,” she said as they pulled up and got out of the car. “You must be Connor Moynahan, I’ve heard so much about you. And you must be Julita.”
She’d read where Connor was twenty-four years old, but he looked even younger. He was so little she was sure that he had to have his suits tailor made for him. If she’d met him in an office, she’d have guessed he was the unpaid college intern working for the summer, certainly not the CEO of a very successful company.
He walked towards her with unshakeable confidence and took her hand in an iron-grip handshake. “Yes, we are in town to do a business deal. Very glad to meet you, Liz. It’s a pleasure.” He looked right into her eyes and didn’t break eye contact. His look with his big blue eyes was so piercing Liz almost had to look away.
No wonder he’s so successful, she thought. He definitely has a presence.
“Welcome,” she said again to Julita.
Julita was a heavyset and very glamorous looking African American woman. Liz would have guessed she was in her fifties. She had long flowing Jessica-Rabbit style red hair, and freckles across her nose. Her hands were perfectly manicured, and she wore a very attractive tailored suit.
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