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Murder at Jade Cove (Cedar Bay Cozy Mystery Book 2)

Page 6

by Dianne Harman


  “Are you kidding me, Mike? This is pretty far-fetched. Jeff in cahoots with some Mexican drug cartel? Who would have thought?”

  “Believe it or not, that’s what she told me. Anyway, Carlos demanded that she pay him one and a half million dollars. He said he and Jeff had a deal that no matter what happened to the marijuana plants, whether they were confiscated by the narcs, whether the plants died from some disease, or whatever else, Jeff had to repay him the money he’d advanced to finance the construction and operation of the marijuana farm. When the marijuana farm burned down, Carlos had demanded that Jeff pay him, but Jeff refused. Now that Jeff was dead, he told Marcy she had to pay him what Jeff owed. Marcy told him she didn’t have that kind of money and that Jeff had filed for divorce. Carlos told her the divorce had nothing to do with Jeff’s promise and he wanted his money.

  “She said Carlos motioned to the man with him and the man pulled out a switchblade knife and made a threatening gesture to Marcy. Carlos told her she better pay him or she’d have a scar on her face similar to the one the other man had on his face. Marcy told me the man had a horrible looking jagged scar that ran from his right eyebrow to below his chin. She said it was one of the most frightening things she’d ever seen. Then, without warning, the other man stepped behind Marcy, put his arm around her neck, and held the tip of his switchblade under her chin. She felt pain and looked down at the white blouse she was wearing. There was a drop of blood on it. The man released his hold on her and threw her to the ground. Carlos said he’d be back in a few days and she better have the money for him or Brandon might not be able to finish college because he’d be dead. Naturally she was panicked. She told Carlos she might be able to use the money from an insurance policy Jeff had taken out on his life since she was the primary beneficiary.”

  “Mike, this sounds like something out of a pulp fiction movie. Marcy isn’t one of my favorite people, but I can’t imagine the fear she must have felt when he threatened to harm her and kill Brandon.”

  “I’m sure she was terrified,” Mike said. “She doesn’t know what to do. She told me she has someone in mind that she thinks will loan her the money until she gets the proceeds from the life insurance policy.”

  “Wonder if she’s thinking Gabe will loan her the money. From what I pulled up on the Internet last night about him, he seems to be having some serious financial problems of his own and I doubt he could loan her any money,” Kelly said.

  “That I don’t know. I told Marcy to call me immediately if Carlos calls her again. Her sister’s gone back to Portland so she’s alone. I asked Marcy if she had a gun and she told me she did and that she wasn’t afraid to use it. She said her father had belonged to a hunting club in Portland and always took her hunting with him. She said she was an excellent shot. Uh-oh, looks like your time with me is up.”

  Kelly looked over her shoulder and saw Roxie approaching. “Sorry to interrupt, Kelly, but I can’t get out all of the orders that are ready to go in the kitchen. Need a little help, plus Zen Master Scott would like to talk to you.”

  “No problem. Mike and I were just finishing up. Mike, see you at home. Let’s not make any plans for the weekend. Can you take a little time off from this case? We haven’t spent much time together lately and I’d like to talk to you about our wedding. I know you’re not terribly interested in the details, but I’d like to run some things by you.”

  “Sure,” Mike said as he stood up. “Since we’ve been engaged a few months now, it’s probably time to make this thing legal. Don’t forget I asked your kids for permission to marry you. They may begin to wonder if I just wanted to move in with you, so yeah, let’s plan on doing that this weekend.”

  As Kelly walked into the kitchen, Mike bent down and put his plate under the table so Rebel could lick the scraps off of it and whispered, “Don’t tell her about this. It’s our little secret.” When Kelly opened the swinging doors of the kitchen a few minutes later, the plate was back on the table, clean as a whistle, Rebel was on his bed near the cash register, and Mike was getting into his sheriff’s car. She may have suspected what had occurred between Mike and Rebel, but without proof, it was only just a suspicion.

  *****

  Zen Master Scott Monroe was the head of the White Cloud Retreat Center that was located about ten miles south of Cedar Bay. People came from all over the United States to take part in the retreats and residential programs he led as well as the workshops the center held. The beautiful large two story wood-faced house that was the center of the retreat area had been a lumber baron’s in the last century and had a commanding view of the ocean from the hill where it sat. White clouds often settled around the hill and when Scott bought it from the lumber baron’s heirs, he decided to name the center for the perpetually cloudy setting. He’d converted the large living room into a meditation room. Several other rooms in the main building and outlying buildings had been made into teaching and workshop areas. Twenty acres of vineyards surrounded the buildings and flourished in the cloudy and misty setting. The wine produced from them was a major source of income for the center. Zen students who stayed at the retreat center for the residential programs were required to work several hours a day in the vineyards.

  Kelly had attended a couple of yoga workshops there over the years and had become friends with Scott, as he preferred to be called. He was a Zen Master whose feet were firmly planted in the here and now. The only time he wore the Zen robes was when he was leading something that required him to look official. He and Kelly had a shared interest in food and from time to time he stopped by the coffee shop to talk to her and occasionally bring her a bottle of wine that had been produced at the center. The center had a large wine tasting room which was open to the public and had developed quite a reputation for having excellent pinot noir wines.

  The bearded burly man standing at the cash register dressed in jeans and a leather jacket bore no resemblance to what one would envision as a Zen Master, particularly one of the most revered contemporary Buddhists in the entire country. “Scott, it’s so good to see you,” Kelly said, kissing him on the cheek. How are things going out at the retreat center?”

  “Busy, Kelly, really busy. There’s been increasing interest all over the United States in meditation and every program we’ve recently offered has been filled to capacity. I’m even thinking of building two more dormitories to house all the people who want to come to the center. Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy we’re doing so well, but the people that come expect to spend some one-on-one time with the Zen Master and it really is impacting my time. I had a chance to escape today, so I dropped by to give you this bottle of wine. Consider it an early wedding present. I hear that you and Sheriff Mike are getting married and I couldn’t be happier for you.”

  “Well, you’ll definitely be at the top of the invitation list. If I wasn’t Catholic, I’d want you to marry us, but right now I’m hoping Father Brown can perform the ceremony. I’ve known him so long he’s kind of like family to me.”

  “I understand, but if for some reason that doesn’t work out, keep me in mind. We’re starting a week long Introduction to Zen program tomorrow and all the new students will be arriving in a few hours so I need to go back and get ready for them. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the wine and I’ll see you at your wedding. Have you set a date yet?”

  “No, funny you should ask. You just missed Mike and I was telling him we needed to discuss it this weekend. I’d like to get married around Valentine’s Day. I know it’s kind of trite, but I think it would be romantic.”

  “Well, if that’s what you want to do, then just do it, and I don’t think it’s trite at all. I’m sure everyone else would agree with me. By the way, weddings can be pretty stressful. You know you’re always welcome to come to the center and take a class or two. Hope to see you soon!”

  “You’re right. I’ve been thinking I need to do that. I always feel better when I take some classes. I just put it on my high priority list. Thanks again for stopping b
y and bringing the wine. I know we’ll enjoy it and do me a favor, try not to work too hard. You’re training all these people on how to deal with stress, but are you practicing what you preach?”

  Scott threw back his head and laughed. “Isn’t there some old saying about how the shoemaker’s children had no shoes? I keep reminding myself that I can’t stop my meditation practice, no matter how busy it gets. You haven’t been out there in a year or so, but I have a pretty full staff. I’ve got seven monks and five nuns who assist me. Matter of fact, I even talked my brother into moving to the center from where he lives back East and helping me out. He’s teaching some classes on stress reduction and yoga. He was a high-powered advertising executive who just burned out from too much stress and pressure at work. Even with the extra help, I’m still the one who often needs to make the final decision about something, and yes, that can be a little stressful. See you later.”

  “Bye, Scott. You take care of yourself!”

  CHAPTER 11

  Kelly checked the kitchen as she got ready to lock up for the day and noticed that there was half a cheesecake on the counter. Roxie must have forgotten to put it in the walk-in. If I take it home I’ll probably eat it, and since I’m going to have to fit into a wedding dress in the near future, I probably better avoid it. I know what. I’ll take it out to Marcy. I’d like to talk to her anyway and I’m curious if she’ll say anything about Gabe.

  It took her about fifteen minutes to get to the driveway that led up to the Black’s ranch house. She remembered her conversation with Bonnie the day before and her description of the little rundown shack on the adjoining BLM property. I thought I knew pretty much everything about the land around here, but I’ve never seen that old abandoned shack. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been on that piece of land. Wonder if I can even get on it. The way she described it, sounds like the shack is about half-way to the point.

  Kelly decided she wanted to try and see if she could find the shack, so she drove past the long driveway that led to the Black’s ranch, slowed the minivan down, and looked for a way to get onto the fenced BLM property. A few hundred feet up the highway she saw a small sign with the words “BLM Property – No Trespassing” on it. She drove a few hundred feet past the sign and pulled off onto the shoulder.

  “Come on, Rebel. Let’s see what this abandoned shack’s all about. Doesn’t look like anyone’s around, so we shouldn’t get arrested. Even though it’s gated, I think there’s enough of a gap in the gate that we can slip through.” They crossed the highway and easily entered the property. Ahead of her she could just make out a small narrow path. “Looks like a footpath. I don’t see any tire tracks and anyway, it’s too narrow for a truck or an ATV.”

  Through the heavy forest, she could just make out the cliffs that dropped off dramatically to Jade Cove and the swirling ocean below. Dappled sunlight made it hard for Kelly to see as she made her way along the path. She almost missed the tiny shack just off to the left side of the path. She walked over to it and saw the door hanging at an odd angle from one badly rusted hinge. She gently pushed it open and thought, Bonnie was right. The only creatures that live here are birds and little critters. The windows were nonexistent, having been broken out long ago. From the looks of it, no one had been there for a long time. She looked around, curious as to why the old shack had been built in the first place and who had used it. The view of Jade Cove and the ocean beyond it was breathtaking. She stood and looked out through one of the broken windows at the ocean for a long time.

  A developer would kill for this land. This view is even better than the one from the Black’s ranch house. She walked over to the other window to check out the view from it. At the end of the cove, approximately a hundred yards away, she could clearly see both the shack Jeff had converted into an office and the ranch house beyond it.

  Dirt had replaced several of the rotted-out floorboards beneath her. She pulled her attention away from the view, suddenly aware that Rebel was furiously digging in the dirt. “Rebel, stop. What are you doing? Did you find an old bone or some animal?” He looked up at her and barked and began digging again, then pushed something on the ground with his nose. She bent down, picked it up and gasped. It was an expended brass cartridge from a gun.

  “Good boy, Rebel. That’s really bizarre. From what I remember when my dad used to hunt, it looks like that cartridge came from some type of a hunting rifle. Why would anyone use this shack for hunting? With the steep cliffs, this doesn’t seem like a place where game would be found. It doesn’t make any sense at all. Why would a hunter be in here?”

  She searched the little shack for a few more minutes, but she didn’t find anything else. Well, someone was here and shooting at something, but I don’t understand why. She looked out at the ocean and took another look at the Black’s ranch house to see if Marcy’s car was there, but no vehicles were parked in the circular driveway in front of the house.

  Interesting. Because of the wide panoramic view, whoever was here could have seen what was going on at the Black’s house and at Jeff’s office, all at the same time. Oh no, she thought. Maybe it wasn’t a deer or some other big game that the hunter was after, maybe it was Jeff. There’s no other explanation for the brass casing. Whoever was here might have seen Jeff going to his office and shot and killed him. Maybe that’s why the casing is here. Someone shot Jeff right here from this window and didn’t want to stay and try to find the casing because they were afraid of being caught. I’ve got to tell Mike.

  “Rebel, come.” They quickly walked back down the path to the road and as she started to get into her van, she saw a note underneath the windshield wiper with writing on it. She slid it out and read the words, “This is a warning. This BLM property is private. Didn’t you see the No Trespassing sign? Don’t come back.” As she held the note in her hand, she realized her hand was shaking.

  “Someone saw us go in there, Rebel, and they still may be around. We’ve got to get out of here. Oh, darn, I forgot I put the cheesecake in the trunk. Well, maybe Marcy’s home by now.”

  She made a U-turn and drove back to the entrance to the ranch driveway. When she got to the ranch house she saw a car she didn’t recognize parked in the driveway. That’s funny. I would swear it wasn’t there when I looked at the ranch house from the shack. It must have just gotten here. She got out of her van and as she passed the car, she noticed a bumper sticker on the rear bumper that read “Oregon Needs Lumber.” She knocked on the door of the ranch house, but there was no answer. She knocked again, but no one came to the door. She waited for a few minutes and then put the cheesecake back in the trunk and got in the van.

  Sure enough if I left it here some animal would eat it. Anyway, it’s one of Mike’s favorites. She drove back to the highway and was home in a few minutes.

  CHAPTER 12

  “Mike,” Kelly yelled when she entered the house. “You won’t believe what I found. Where are you?”

  “I’m right here in my favorite spot in the house, looking at the ocean. The sun will set in a few minutes and this time of year I think the sunsets are even more spectacular than usual. Come join me. You sound pretty excited. What’s up?”

  She walked over, kissed him, and reached into her pocket. “Mike, I found this at the old shack out on the BLM property.” She handed him the spent cartridge. “Well, Rebel actually found it and I just picked it up. Look at the bottom of the cartridge. The stamp on it says 30-30. Didn’t you tell me that’s the caliber of gun that killed Jeff? Do you think this could be from the gun that killed him?”

  He looked at the expended cartridge and carefully examined it. “Kelly,” he said, looking up at her, “Where, specifically, did you find it?”

  Kelly sat in the chair across from him and told him exactly where she was when she and Rebel had found it.

  “Okay, let’s talk about this,” Mike said. “First of all I think there’s a very good chance this is an empty cartridge from the gun that killed Jeff. The coroner told me he w
as shot from a distance because there was no gunpowder residue on him. It’s also very possible that someone was waiting in that old shack to shoot Jeff. How far do you think it is from the shack Jeff used as an office to the abandoned shack on the BLM property? Did you say you could clearly see Jeff’s office and the Black’s ranch house from the old abandoned shack?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “I could see both of them very clearly. I’d say the old abandoned shack is about a hundred yards from the shack Jeff used for his office, but gauging distances has never been my thing. It could be more or less.”

  “Let’s assume your estimate is close. The killer could have been lying in wait at the old shack because he or she knew that Jeff often left the ranch house at night to go to his office and work. When the person saw Jeff, he or she shot and killed him. Then again, it could have been a random thing, but I find it hard to believe in coincidences like that.

  “Mike, there was something else. When I got back to the van after visiting the shack, this note was on my windshield.” She handed it to Mike.

  “Kelly, when someone left this on your windshield, they were definitely trying to scare you. They either saw you go in there or they saw your car and realized you were in there. It certainly doesn’t seem to be a note from the BLM. They would have put it on something more official looking with the BLM logo on it, plus they probably would have gone in there to find you. This concerns me. Did you see any other cars when you went in there?”

  “No. I looked carefully before I went in and I’d decided if there was someone else around, I wouldn’t go in. I knew I was trespassing. There’s a big sign and you can’t miss it. I sure didn’t want to get arrested for trespassing.”

 

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