by Rayna Morgan
Lea stopped Gracie at the front door of the store. "Stay, Gracie. Good girl."
Hearing the shop keeper's bell when Lea and Maddy walked in, Maria waved hello but kept talking rapidly in Spanish to a man wearing a black shirt with the letters KDHY. The only other customer was sitting alone at one of the tables near the front window.
Lea and Maddy made small talk while the men at the counter selected their donuts and finished their conversation with Maria. When one of them stopped to pet Gracie on their way out, Lea smiled innocently: "Busy day already?"
"Stocking up on Maria's chocolate glazed donuts," he smiled, departing quickly.
"They play it close to the vest," Lea observed as they approached Maria.
Maddy queried Maria, pulling no punches: "Were they here to do a story on the condo site burglary?"
"Oh, sure," Maria exclaimed, her arms waving in her animated style of conversing.
Maddy always marveled that Maria was so petite considering she was surrounded by yummy donuts and other bakery items every day. Her three young children who helped her when they weren't in school were all of the same petite build.
"The man I was talking to is my cousin. He's the one who carries the television camera when they're interviewing someone," she explained proudly.
Lea pointed to several of the crullers in the glass display case as Maria continued, bagging Lea's pastries as she talked. "In the interview my cousin recorded, the police admitted they are stymied with these burglaries. They have no leads as to who is doing this bad thing. In the story airing tonight, the Chief will be asking the public to report any suspicious activity."
Lea reached over the counter to pay Maria. "Did you have any new customers in the last couple of days you haven't seen before?"
Maria shook her head adamantly, lapsing partially into her native language: "No, señora. Only my regular customers. Believe me, if I would have seen any suspicious hombres, I would have told my cousin. I don't want any bad men anywhere near my niños."
"I figure it must have been someone with an inside connection to the builder," piped in the other customer, twirling the coffee mug in his hands. All three of them turned to the speaker, easily recognizable as a local rancher from his sunburned face, boots, and black Stetson hat.
Maria walked over to his table to refill his coffee cup. "What do you know, Scott?"
The sisters gave the subject a quick visual. His thick, brown hair was tousled under his hat. His face was strong and defined, his features molded from granite. He had dark eyebrows which sloped downward in a serious expression over brown eyes.
"I know no truck could have driven onto the property without passing the security guard at the front." He stirred sugar into his coffee. "When pieces of the land came out of agricultural preserve, I sold a parcel to the developer building those condos. I know the land like the back of my hand. It's bounded on one side by a ditch you couldn't drive a truck over, and on the other side by a stone wall I built during the rainy season to keep flood waters from destroying my orange trees. The front is secured by wire fencing and the construction trailer where the guard stays during his shift."
"Isn't there a recycle yard at the back of the property?" Maddy asked. "Couldn't someone cross it and get onto the construction site?"
"No way. I know the fellow who owns the yard. He keeps four Rottweilers on the property specifically for that purpose . . . to make sure no one breaks in. If someone had been dumb enough to try to cross his property, the barking would have alerted the security guard and any neighbors for a mile in every direction."
Lea squinted. "Are you suggesting the security guard let the van in?"
"I know the retired cop who's working security there to supplement his pension. He's an honest guy. I’m not suggesting that at all."
"Then what leads you to the conclusion it was somehow an inside job?" Maddy persisted.
"The only way someone could get in was by knowing the exact routine of the security guard. He walks the perimeter of the property at scheduled times. I can tell you from all the days I walked that dirt when I was growing oranges there, it's a good mile to the back of the property. Walking slowly enough to inspect everything as he went, the security guard would be away from his post for more than twenty minutes during any one of those patrols. More than enough time for someone to cut through the front gate and lay in wait to overpower him when he returned. From what I heard your cousin telling you, Maria, it sounds like that’s what happened. The perps overcame the guard, drove in, and helped themselves to the goods."
"I didn't hear you telling the police when they stopped in earlier asking questions," Maria scoffed.
Scott shook his head. "Not my job. It's what they're paid for. With our tax money, I might add. Besides, I'm not going to make accusations about any of the builders in the County. I've still got land in agricultural reserve I'm going to want to sell someday."
Hearing a low growl emanating from Gracie, Lea looked toward her dog in surprise. Two Hispanic men climbed down from the cab of a large truck pulled into one of the pumps at the gas station. As one man took care of the fueling, the other walked toward the donut shop. He wore black jeans and a black t-shirt, a knit cap on his head, and a red and black bandana around his neck. He had a stocky build, tattoos on both arms, and walked with an imposing swagger.
Maria's greeting was brief and to the point, totally unlike the wide smile and chattiness she offered most customers. "What will it be this morning, Miguel?"
"Same as always, Maria, and put in an extra chocolate cake donut. I had a rough night. I need a sugar spike." He smiled, but his smile was sneering like he was laughing at an inside joke.
Putting a hand on Gracie's head to calm her, Lea could feel a vibrating growl emanating from deep in the dog's chest.
Maria didn't miss Gracie's reaction. "Hey, girl, I haven't given you a treat yet today."
She reached into a tray marked ‘For Dogs Only’ and picked up a large biscuit in the shape of a bone. Sweeping around the counter, she moved quickly to where Gracie sat, body alert, eyes fixed intently on Miguel. Offering the biscuit with one hand, Maria rubbed the border collie's head with the other.
Dropping money on the counter, Miguel grabbed the bag Maria had placed near the cash register and turned to walk out. As he brushed past Gracie, he glared at the dog with a look that caused the hair on the back of Lea's neck to stand on end.
The silence in the donut shop after he left was palpable.
"Who was he, Maria?" Lea asked, shakily.
"One of the three Ramirez brothers. The mother, she got sick and died a couple of years ago. The father, he left them when the last baby was born. Boys have pretty much grown up on their own. They've been in and out of trouble over the years. The oldest one, Roberto, landed in jail. He was in my store last week telling me he just got released on parole."
Measuring coffee into the brewer, Maria continued: "When they're not getting in trouble, they work construction. In fact, they're working on the site that got robbed last night. Been stopping in every morning when they come to fuel the company trucks."
"Sounds like they've had it pretty rough," Maddy sympathized.
"Yeah, you might feel sorry for them except for their attitude. They're mean. And they're rude. They all got bad manners. Not one of them shows any respect for their elders. Mark my words; no good is going to come from any of those boys," she predicted. "I won't miss having them as customers when they move on to another job."
Turning her attention toward Gracie, Lea could see the dog had relaxed since Miguel had left the premises. "He certainly got your hackles up, didn't he, girl?"
Throwing a couple of dollars on the table, the rancher gave Lea some advice. "Dogs are smarter than people about a lot of things, especially when it comes to sorting out the good apples from the rotten ones. Pay attention to what your dog is telling you."
Tipping his hat toward Maddy, the rancher walked out. The color rushed to Maddy's cheeks.
Locking her arm in Lea's as they left the donut shop, Maddy suggested: "And maybe we can help them do exactly that."
* * *
Lea got home in time to put finishing touches on a proposal for a prospective new client and answer her emails before fixing dinner. When her son called to ask if he could stay at his friend's house to eat and study, Lea agreed, reminding him it was his night to take the trash out. "Be sure to do it first thing when you get home so your dad doesn't have to tell you. And don't forget to thank Michael's mother."
Taking a peek at the large roast cooking, Lea called Paul. She caught him on his way to the softball game. "Is Tom going to make it for dinner? If not, we're going to have a lot of leftovers. Jon's eating with the Thompsons tonight."
"As a matter of fact, I just got off the phone with Tom. Since we're playing the early game, he won't be able to break away from the station in time. He'll try to come for dinner about seven-thirty but no guarantees. I should be home and cleaned up by then."
Lea pulled vegetables from the bin to clean. "Glad to hear it. I don't think he's getting many home cooked meals since he and Linda have gone their separate ways."
"I'm sure he misses Linda's gourmet cooking but from the way he talks, it's all he misses of their relationship."
"Men," she scoffed. "See you soon. Good luck with your game."
After feeding the animals, Lea walked into the living room in time to watch the early edition of the news. The Police Chief, dressed in the freshly starched uniform she had seen him in that morning, made his appeal to the public.
"Please keep your eyes open around any construction sites, either residential or commercial. Report any suspicious activity."
"Are certain sites more likely to be hit?" the reporter asked.
"Single family houses, especially those which are somewhat isolated, make good targets because there's less chance of neighbors or passersby seeing or hearing a burglar. Any properties without fencing are asking for trouble. Appliances delivered to a site before locking doors and windows are installed present a timing opportunity savvy burglars watch for."
"If someone sees something suspicious, how should they react?"
"In no instance should you approach anyone you believe is engaged in illegal activity. We've been fortunate so far no one has been hurt, but these things have a nasty way of escalating. Make the right move and call for help if you see anything or anyone you believe is out of place in your neighborhood."
Lea sighed. "If the Chief has been effective in asking the public for help, Tom will be plenty busy. We won't be seeing him for dinner, and we'll be eating leftovers tomorrow night."
Chapter Three
Lea was right in her prediction of her and Paul eating alone. She was wrapping up leftovers when her cell phone rang.
"Hope I'm not disturbing you," Mrs. Allen began.
Calls from Mrs. Allen are almost always disturbing.
"Not at all. I hope you’re not having more intruders."
"No; thanks to you, my house is quiet but after all the trouble I put you through last night, I’m calling because I don’t want to be an alarmist. I'd like to run something by you before calling the police."
Interest piqued, Lea walked out to the back yard so Paul couldn’t overhear. "What's going on?"
"I was at the grocery store and decided to take a little drive around the neighborhood on the way home.”
She doesn’t have the reputation as the neighborhood busybody for no reason.
“I was close to where they're building the two-story Spanish Colonial by the pond. Do you know the house? Red roof tiles and a turret."
"Unfortunately, I know it only too well. Our snoopy cat Sherlock has been there several times in the last couple of weeks. He seems to like foraging in the tiles and drywall on the site. He also loves high places. Since they haven't installed any windows or doors in the house yet, he's been able to climb all the way to the turret to check out the view. I saw him sitting up there a couple of days ago when I took the dogs for a walk."
"I was a block away from it when I saw lights inside the house. Like flashlight beams," she clarified, "in an upstairs room. Neither the builder nor the owner would be there this time of night. I wouldn't have thought much about it except for the recent news reports on the burglaries."
"Did you call the police?"
"No, I was afraid I was overreacting and shouldn't waste their time."
“I don't think that would be the case. I saw the Police Chief interviewed on the news tonight encouraging people to call in any suspicious activity they see. From his description of likely targets, that house might be prone to a break-in."
"There's no fencing around the property," Mrs. Allen agreed, "which would allow for easy access."
"Tell you what. I was getting ready to take Gracie and Spirit for their evening stroll. We'll go for a ride instead and see if there appears to be anything going on."
"Don't put yourself at risk," her neighbor warned.
"Don't worry. We'll keep our distance. The dogs will detect scents from quite a ways off and alert me. If they seem to be reacting, I'll call it in. You won't have to worry about sending up a false alarm."
"Thank you, Lea. Call and let me know what you find to put my mind at ease before I turn in."
"No problem. I'll get my super sleuths right on it," Lea laughed, ringing off.
She walked into the living room where Paul was watching a basketball game. She explained where she was going as she put halters on the dogs. Without taking his eyes off the television screen, Paul asked: “Don’t you think you’ve wasted enough time playing detective for Mrs. Allen?”
"We won't get any closer than a block away. Besides, she’s probably overreacting like everyone else in town right now. These burglaries have everyone on edge. I'll call you as soon as we head back home," she assured him.
Jon came through the front door in time to see his mother getting the dogs ready to go somewhere. "Wherever you’re off to, can I go? I finished my homework at Michael's house."
"Not this time." Without disclosing any concern about possible danger, Lea offered a distraction to discourage her son from joining them. "Your dad’s making popcorn at half-time if you want to watch the rest of the game."
"Sounds good." Jon licked his lips and patted his stomach.
By the time Lea got the dogs into the car, Paul and Jon were hollering at the screen, Paul’s concern for his wife’s safety all but forgotten
* * *
Lea wondered if Paul was right. Was she going against her better judgment driving to the site? At least there was an empty field between the house and the end of the street allowing them to keep their distance.
Nevertheless, getting out of the car at the corner to get a better view, her heart skipped a beat. Mrs. Allen was right: there were lights in the house. A black van was parked in the driveway with the loading doors open. Her neighbor was right about something else: it wouldn't be the owners of the house visiting at this time of night in the dark.
"Hurry up, Miguel," a voice hollered. "We're done here. We'll be late for the meet."
"Come on guys, we're out of here, too," Lea summoned the dogs. Hearing the urgency in his master’s voice, Spirit stopped rooted to the spot, but Gracie's instincts kicked in. She went racing toward the site, barking loudly.
The commotion aroused an instantaneous reaction. Two hooded figures came running out of the house, glancing frantically in all directions before racing to the van. Not bothering to secure the back doors, one jumped in the driver's seat and revved the engine while the other jumped into the passenger side.
"No, Spirit," Lea yelled, seeing Spirit join his sister racing for the back of the van. "Come back, Gracie."
The retriever hesitated between seeing the back doors of the van flying open in front of him an
d hearing his master's voice. But the strength of the border collie's hind legs propelled her easily into the back of the van as the vehicle leaped to life weaving crazily down the street. The last thing Lea saw as the van swerved around the corner was Gracie struggling to keep her balance in the back of the careening vehicle.
"Come, Spirit, now," she yelled with authority, sliding behind the wheel of her car and simultaneously opening the other door. The dog jumped into the car and Lea took off in pursuit, hitting the speed dial button on her phone.
"Paul, call Tom at the station right away. Something terrible has happened." They were in a residential neighborhood but Lea was driving as fast as she dared in pursuit of the speeding van. "As Mrs. Allen feared, there was a burglary in progress at the house. Two men stormed out when Gracie ran over barking and took off. They were in such a hurry, they didn't close the back doors of their van and she jumped into it."
"Oh, no," Paul moaned. "Don't tell me you're chasing them."
"What choice do I have? I've got to get off the phone. Call Tom right away. Tell him it's a late model, black, Nissan van headed toward the Pier on Beach Boulevard. I'll call back when I can."
Paul’s hands fumbled on the keypad as he dialed Tom's direct line at the police station.
"Tom Elliot," he heard the voice say, glad it wasn't a recording. "How may I be of assistance?"
"Thank goodness, it's you and not your voice mail." He quickly explained the situation exactly as Lea had related it.
"Okay, Paul." Tom switched into the reassuring mode he adopted when handling people in desperate situations. "We're on it. I'll take another squad car with me. Don't worry; we'll find them. The van is probably headed for one of the freeway on-ramps to get out of the area as fast as they can. I'll alert highway patrol units all along the highway. They won't get far."
"Thanks, Tom. Please have Lea call as soon as you've located them."
"Of course," the Detective replied, cutting the call off and putting his game plan into action. Grabbing his jacket, he ran toward the parking lot.