Hit and Run

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Hit and Run Page 3

by Rayna Morgan


  “You said you like Mario. Now you say he’s responsible for your sister’s death. Which is it, Sean?”

  He buried his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to think.”

  “You’re going through a grieving process of denial, anger, depression, and acceptance. It’s all part of learning to live without a loved one.”

  “I don’t know how to work my way through the process with unanswered questions about her death. Until I know what really happened, I won’t be able to move on. I need your help to find the truth.”

  “What do you expect I can do?”

  “I watched you and your father when I was growing up. Your mother insisted Warren leave his job at the station when he came home at night. She made him promise not to discuss cases in front of your family but with you, he broke that promise.”

  Sean grinned as Lea shifted uncomfortably. “From my tree house in our front yard, I had a bird's-eye view of your porch. I heard you and your father talk about his work. You shared all kinds of stuff about crimes and mysteries.”

  “We did no such thing,” Lea objected.

  “Don’t worry. I never ratted on you. Your mother never knew what you two talked about.”

  Lea laughed. “Okay, I’m busted. But talking or reading about mysteries is different from solving them.”

  “Your Dad brags about the cases you helped the Buena Viaje police solve.”

  “That’s hardly the same. I had an inside track in those events. My husband’s closest friend, who happens to be my sister’s boyfriend, is a homicide detective with the police department.”

  “It doesn’t matter. For my sister’s case, you have your father. The former chief of police.”

  “As you know, Dad’s retired.”

  “He has the connections you need to look into the case.”

  “It’s not that easy,” Lea objected.

  “If Cate’s death was other than an accident, she deserves justice,” he pleaded. “And my family deserves to know the truth.”

  “The truth doesn’t always bring comfort, Sean.”

  “I’m only asking you and your father to review the matter. If you’re both satisfied, I’ll accept your opinion.”

  “I’ll talk to Dad but if he tells me there’s no reason to question the medical examiner’s report, there’s nothing I can do.”

  “Then I'll put this behind me and move on.” He took a last sip of his drink. “Sadly, Cate seemed ready to settle down. I think she just found the wrong guy to do it with.”

  • • •

  Sean signaled the bartender. “One more, Tim, and I’ll be at my limit.”

  The bartender pointed at Lea’s wine glass. “Are you ready for another?”

  She covered her glass with a hand. “I better not. I’m driving.”

  Nodding in Sean’s direction, she asked, “Will he be all right?”

  Lea imagined Cate’s brother would be the last person to risk driving drunk but she also realized Sean wasn’t thinking clearly.

  “Don’t worry,” Tim said. “I’ll fill him with coffee before he leaves or put him in a taxi.”

  “Coffee sounds good to me,” Lea said.

  “One cup of java coming up,” Tim replied and walked away.

  Lea observed Sean out of the corner of her eye. Before alcohol could make him maudlin, she returned to their earlier conversation.

  “The last time you spoke with Cate, something she said bothered you.”

  He nodded. “When she wasn’t at the restaurant, my sister worked private parties for a caterer. She got in the dangerous habit of carrying a recorder to those events.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “She made fun of the way rich people carried on. Said there was no end to their scandalous behavior.”

  “But why record what she heard?”

  “She had a crazy notion of getting hold of something which could prove lucrative.”

  “You mean blackmail?”

  “I told her it was a stupid thing to do but she insisted.”

  “Do you think Cate recorded something which put her life in danger?”

  “She said she finally had something which would pay off.” He rubbed his forehead. “I’m afraid it did. In the worst possible way.”

  Tim returned Sean’s glass filled with ice and a mere splash of bourbon.

  A couple took seats at the bar so Lea and Sean stopped talking about Cate but Lea considered their conversation as Sean and Tim discussed the upcoming baseball season.

  Was it booze talking when Sean claimed his sister was murdered or was her death more sinister than everyone believed?

  Chapter 4

  Lea drove to an area close to Mission Bay known for beautiful scenery and sightings of wildlife in the canyons. At the time of its creation in the nineteen-fifties, Clairemont was removed from San Diego proper so the subdivision included offices, retail stores, and schools, a novel approach to suburban living which soon became commonplace.

  As she drove up the winding streets, she recalled school days which began with early morning runs across beaches and over bridges to Fiesta Island.

  The house where she grew up was modest, but charming. The source of her sister’s green thumb was evident in the colorful front garden. A wide porch housed one large rocking chair and several wicker chairs surrounded by potted plants of various shapes and sizes. It was the setting of the conversations between Warren and Lea which Sean observed.

  Lea entered a mid-century style home upgraded with solar roofing, refinished hardwood floors, and granite counter tops.

  “Anyone home?” she hollered.

  “Out here,” Warren answered.

  She found her father sitting in a lawn chair on the patio.

  He held up a beer. “There are more of these in the refrigerator.”

  “I’ll have wine, thanks.”

  After filling a glass, Lea joined him.

  “Your mother went to the store.” He held up a finger. “Be prepared. I’m afraid she wants to cook dinner for you.”

  “Oh, dear,” Lea said. Her mother’s lack of culinary skills was the source of good-natured family jokes.

  “I suggested she bring pizza from Luigi’s,” Warren said.

  “Let’s hope she follows your advice. Does she still watch cooking shows on TV?”

  “Yes, with the same unfortunate results. The meals they prepare never translate to what ends up on our table.”

  “I’m glad she’s out. It gives me a chance to talk to you about my meeting with Sean.”

  “How did it go?”

  “The conversation wasn’t what I expected,” she admitted. “Of course, he’s distraught, but—”

  “Considering how close they were, his sister’s death must be difficult to accept.”

  “His emotional state is not the shocker. Wait until you hear his theory.”

  “I’m all ears,” he said, leaning forward.

  “Sean doesn’t believe Cate’s death was an accident. He believes someone intentionally ran his sister off the road.”

  Warren’s eyes drifted skyward. “What a surprise that Sean thinks Cate was murdered.”

  “Don’t forget he’s always had an active imagination.”

  “I mean it’s surprising his thoughts are similar to my own.”

  “You, too, Dad?”

  “I chalked my feelings up to habit. As an ex-policeman, I question everything. Tell me, what’s his basis for suspicion?”

  “Sean suspects Cate’s boyfriend of being a courier for a cartel using his position on a cruise ship to smuggle drugs across the border. What’s your opinion? Is it possible Mario is a drug runner?”

  “Drug busts aboard ships rarely make headlines but they happen more often than you think. In the past few years, the authorities have cracked down on drug use and smuggling on cruise lines which has resulted in numerous arrests. Most of those busts focused on the ship’s crew.”

  “Why don’t we hear more about those cases?”<
br />
  “Shipboard smuggling is more prevalent on the East Coast. You may remember the case of Disney Magic staffers snared when they passed through customs in Port Canaveral with seven pounds of cocaine taped to their legs.” Warren leaned forward, warming to his subject. “That wasn’t the only incident of crew members smuggling drugs. Employees of a cruise line in Tampa were arrested for smuggling cocaine from Honduras in their clothing.”

  “How did the authorities catch them?” Lea asked.

  “Several employees attracted the attention of customs officials as they left the ship. Two women picked the men up in a rental car. Detectives followed the car to a motel where everyone went inside but came out a short time later with luggage. The vehicle was pulled over and a search dog found cocaine in the bags. The men admitted to smuggling the drugs aboard ship in their spandex underclothes and being paid at the motel when they turned the drugs over to the women.”

  “Do crew members sell directly to passengers on the ship?”

  “It’s been known to happen, especially when boats are used for private parties. A recent event involved a former television star found dead in the cabin of a ship chartered by an entertainment company. Passengers stated that drugs were plentiful on the party boat. The suspected cause of death was an overdose.”

  “That could support Sean’s theory about drugs. But how did you arrive at doubts about the cause of Cate’s death?”

  “Start by asking what she was doing on that deserted road. It wasn’t a route she would normally follow. Then, the odds of a second car on that road at the exact time are minimal. Finally, her brother didn’t buy the report of alcohol nor do I.”

  “Are you questioning the coroner’s report?” Lea asked.

  “No, I accept the report. The toxicologist wouldn’t be wrong. My doubt is more with how the alcohol got into her system.”

  “Is your doubt based on more than a hunch?”

  He stroked his chin. “Some years ago, Cate went through the kind of rough patch young people hit when they reach age of majority. One night, she was pulled over for driving under the influence. A search for open containers was conducted but none were found. At the request of her mother, I had a firm talk with her.”

  Lea smiled. “Maddy and I were on the receiving end of a few of those talks. I know how effective they can be.”

  Her father acknowledged her remark with a nod before continuing.

  “I informed Cate that intoxication convictions rarely result in long jail sentences but the damage to her reputation would be difficult to mend and could haunt her for years to come. I pointed out the police would come down hard in the event of another arrest.”

  “If she reacted like Maddy and me, one of your lectures was enough.”

  He nodded. “According to our neighbors, my warning was sufficient. There were no more problems of that nature.”

  “But if her boyfriend is carrying or dealing drugs, her exposure to addictive substances was greater.”

  “It’s hard for me to believe she reverted to old behavior.”

  “Considering a presence of alcohol, why aren’t the police pursuing the case?”

  “The police won't consider alcohol consumption reason to doubt the coroner’s classification of accidental death. Besides, their assumption of a drunk driver hit-and-run is logical. For all they know, Cate and the other driver were at the same party where they consumed drugs or liquor in sufficient quantities to result in the second driver accidentally hitting Cate's car.”

  Lea expressed pent-up emotion. “Unless the driver attended the party with intent to follow Cate and drive her off the road.”

  Warren looked at her sharply. “You aren’t considering Sean’s request to look into the case, are you?”

  Lea proceeded cautiously, squirming under her father's watchful eye. “The Palmers are neighbors and friends. Can you rest knowing there could be more to their daughter’s death than what they’ve been told?”

  “Cate’s parents have accepted the explanation for the accident. Only Sean doubts the findings and I’m afraid he’s drawing you into a wild goose chase with him.”

  “But you admit to having doubts. I know you too well to think you’ll turn a blind eye. Think how satisfying it would be to find justice for the child you watched grow up.”

  Warren finished his beer and placed the empty bottle on the table. “Are you asking me to join you on this case?”

  "That’s exactly what I’m asking."

  He sat back and twirled his thumbs. His eyes narrowed, creating crow’s feet at the corners.

  Lea held her breath, waiting to hear a lecture on sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. His next words allowed her to resume breathing.

  “I have to admit, retirement isn’t what I had hoped for. The stroke that forced me to retire early stopped me from fulfilling my dream of sailing my boat to South America. Even though I’ve recovered, I can’t convince your mother the voyage is safe for me to make.”

  “I’ve wondered if you don’t miss the force.”

  “Every day. I especially miss using the skills honed as a detective before my promotion to head the department buried me in paperwork a million miles from the streets.” His eyes sparkled with excitement as he leaned forward. “Detective work is more than evidence, legal procedure, and probable cause. It’s matching wits with a criminal. Nothing compares to the excitement of the first big break in a case. The adrenalin rush of knowing you’re on the right track. Best of all, seeing the eyes of a guilty person who realizes you’re on to them and there’s no way out because you won’t give up until they’re behind bars.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to experience those feelings again?”

  A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I see how you talk your sister into these things.”

  “Please, Dad.”

  He nodded slowly, more pleased with the suggestion than he would admit.

  “I suppose I could. That stroke didn’t diminish my skills as an investigator. In fact, that might be exactly what this case needs. A return to the basics. Remember what I taught you about looking at things without making assumptions?”

  “Stay open-minded. Things aren’t always as they appear.”

  “That’s right,” Warren said. “The police may have taken the easiest road by labeling this death a hit-and-run knowing the driver is unlikely to be found.”

  “So you agree to help?” she asked, eagerly.

  “Hold your horses. I can’t waltz into the police department demanding to look at a case they consider open and shut.”

  “You still have close friends on the force willing to do anything for you. Ask them.”

  “There are also cops who hate my guts. Those are the ones I don’t care to tangle with.”

  “Who would hold a grudge against you?”

  “Anyone who cut corners and didn’t follow correct procedure. Policemen more interested in making a reputation or throwing their weight around than finding the truth.”

  “It’s the truth we’re after in this case. We owe it to Sean to find the answers he’s seeking. You’re the one who told me that answers bring light to save people from stumbling around in darkness.”

  “All right,” Warren said. “Let’s get started.”

  “Where should we begin?” Lea asked.

  “The way to find out how someone died is to find out how they lived and how they loved.”

  Words rushed from Lea’s mouth. “We need to locate the boyfriend and talk to Cate’s friends and the people she worked with.”

  For a second time, her father cautioned her. “Before you go off half-cocked, use the method I taught you.”

  Lea took a deep breath. “I remember. Start by breaking thoughts into two distinct channels of logic. What things we know and what things we need to know.”

  “That’s correct. Tell me what things we know.”

  “We know the location, a deserted road where there were no witnesses.”

  “What do we
need to know about the location?”

  “Cate’s reason for being on that road since it wasn’t near her home or place of employment.”

  “What else do we know?” he asked.

  “Sean indicated she threatened to break up with her boyfriend.”

  “Again, what do we want to know?”

  “The reason for the breakup, whether Mario knew, and his reaction.”

  “What else should we find out about Mario?”

  “His involvement, if any, in transporting or selling drugs.” She pointed at her father. “The police report should tell you what information the police had to arrive at their conclusion of hit-and-run.”

  “If the report is thorough, it should relate Cate’s activities two or three days before her death. Of course, there’s one issue which won’t show up in an accident file, an issue we must determine.”

  “Let me guess,” Lea said. “Who had reason to kill her?”

  Warren looked pleased. “At least for one of my daughters, my stories didn’t fall on deaf ears.”

  They devised a plan for Warren to obtain a copy of the police report and Lea to get names of Cate’s friends from the Palmers. Together, they would track down the boyfriend.

  At the end of the planning, Lea asked a question she hesitated to pose.

  “Will you get in trouble with the department? They won’t appreciate you challenging their conclusion.”

  “Don’t worry, I can handle myself,” he assured her. “Besides, I look forward to investigating on my own. To follow my instincts without informing others or filing tiresome reports on every move I make. And even though I no longer have access to tools at the department, I still have friends who will provide assistance.”

  “It sounds as though you plan to work outside the box like officers you used to reprimand.”

  Warren grinned. “Touché.”

  She expressed another concern. “Are you worried we might be too close to this case?”

  “One of the earliest lessons of my training was learning to disengage emotionally. To follow facts rather than emotions in searching for the truth. That’s something you’ll have to do if you want to serve the Palmers.”

  “I understand. Previous cases have helped me develop that shell.”

 

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