MURDER AT THE PIER (A Sister Sleuths Mystery Book 1)

by Rayna Morgan

  "Yes, it was. But we've drifted off topic."

  The Councilwoman clenched her hands in front of her and leaned forwarded. "In answer to your question, yes, we were pleased with the work done for us on that project. Nevertheless, we're required to receive bids for every project paid for with City funds. Let me make it clear. We're not required to award the contract to the lowest bid we receive but we do have a budget to comply with. I outlined the terms including the maximum amount of funding available for this project in the letter I sent requesting bids."

  "Of course." Lea could sense pursuing further questioning was ill-advised. Besides, she was not given the opportunity.

  The Councilwoman rose to her feet, picking up the written proposal Lea had placed on her desk. "I don't mean to be rude but I have a lot of work to do. Your bid will be taken into consideration with the others and you will be notified of our decision. Thank you for coming in."

  Lea was impressed with this woman’s directness, an asset to anyone with ambition. Mrs. Patton had come a long way. From a job as a catering manager to loathing catered events. A long way, indeed.

  * * *

  Tom was still waiting to see the Planning Director when he saw Lea descending the wide marble staircase. Telling the woman at the front desk he would return momentarily, he moved to catch her before she left the building.

  "How did your meeting go? Did you knock 'em dead?"

  "It felt pretty good but you never know. Sometimes a person has decided before you ever give them your proposal. They're only going through the protocol, wasting my time. Hopefully, that's not the case here and I have a real shot."

  "You'll get it. You're the best." Tom was one of Lea's biggest fans, not because she was married to his closest friend but because she was intelligent, highly qualified, and a hard worker.

  "You're an easy mark for a vote, Tom. All it takes is one of my home-cooked meals. But I can tell you one thing," she said, becoming more serious. "It would take something a lot more enticing than a home-cooked meal to bribe the Councilwoman."

  "Now who's talking bribery? Aren't you the one telling me I'm cynical thinking anyone at City Hall could be bribed?"

  "I'm not suggesting the Councilwoman could be bribed. But she's one ambitious, motivated woman. I'd hate to be the one to stand in her way when she makes up her mind to get something."

  Tom's eyes narrowed. He looked at Lea intently. "That's an interesting comment, especially coming from you. You're the last person to criticize anyone."

  "I'm not criticizing; merely observing." She lowered her voice. "Would you like to hear another observation?"

  "You bet." Tom leaned closer so they couldn't be overheard.

  "Mrs. Patton had feelings for Neal Henderson."

  "How do you know?" Tom asked sharply.

  "I don't know for a fact. It's only woman's intuition. You don't have to listen. Paul hates when I use that instead of logic as the basis for my reasoning."

  "I'm a big believer in women's intuition. It’s helped solve some of my toughest cases. Almost as reliable as Gracie letting me know who the bad guys are."

  He put an arm around her, giving her a hug. "I'm especially glad to hear your instincts in this case because they jive completely with my own."

  Lea's eyes widened. "What makes you say that?"

  "Remember the picture I showed you that I found in Neal's condo?"

  "Yes."

  "There was another picture hidden behind it."

  "So?"

  "A picture of none other than the deceased and Councilwoman Patton sharing a cocktail."

  Lea waved a hand, dismissing his comment. "She knows Neal from a business perspective because he was Don Carson's right-hand man. There would have been occasions for them to have a drink together."

  "In the hot tub on the balcony of his condo?"

  * * *

  Tom's visit to the Planning Department was as unproductive as he predicted it would be. The Director was not in and his attempt to obtain information from the staff was fruitless. City personnel tended to close ranks when it came to outsiders, especially those representing other official agencies. He knew without the authorization of a warrant, he was unlikely to find anyone willing to be forthcoming enough to confirm his suspicions.

  But he had another weapon in his arsenal. He punched a number on his cell and left a message asking Paul to meet him at the gym for a workout.

  He followed the wide circular staircase to the second floor. Entering Councilwoman Patton's office, he flipped open his badge case for the middle aged, gray haired woman sitting at the front desk. She introduced herself, adding his card to other cards in a bowl beside her computer. "Rosemary Hanson."

  "I need to speak with the Councilwoman, please."

  "I'm afraid you missed her. She left for a luncheon. Won't be back until late afternoon."

  "This won't wait. Where is her luncheon?"

  The woman hesitated. Tom could see her mental wheels churning, deciding what to do. Having a policeman show up at the luncheon was out of the question.

  "Perhaps you can talk with her on her cell phone. She should still be en route. Let me see if I can reach her." She put the call on speakerphone so they both heard the curt answer.

  "What is it, Rosemary?"

  "Mrs. Patton, I have Detective Elliot here. He needs to speak with you. I've explained you're busy until late afternoon but he insists he sees you. Rather than have him go to the luncheon you're attending, I've taken the liberty to put him in touch with you by phone. I hope that's acceptable."

  Does everyone walk on eggshells around this woman?

  There was a pronounced silence. After several seconds, a clipped voice came through. No effort was made by the speaker to be cordial. "My secretary is correct, Detective. I won't be in my office until after four and I have appointments scheduled for the rest of the day."

  Tom's response was immediate and forceful. "I have questions about the recent murder of Neal Henderson. Your schedule for the rest of the day is not my concern. We can do this at your office at four o'clock or you can come to the police station to be interviewed. The time isn't open for negotiation. The place is your choice."

  Another lengthy pause. "My secretary will reschedule my appointments. I'll see you at four o’clock at my office, Detective." The line went dead.

  The secretary switched off the speaker. Tom noticed the Councilwoman hadn't given her instructions directly to the secretary. It was assumed they had been heard and would be carried out.

  "Is she always like that, Rosemary?" Tom's intentional use of her first name encouraged her confidence.

  Looking up, she allowed a slight smile to flicker across her face. "This gray hair has been righteously earned, Detective."

  "Have you only worked for her during her tenure at City Hall?"

  "Oh, no. We go back much further. I've worked for her in one capacity or another for the last twenty years. Personal Assistant, Social Secretary, part-time Nanny to her children when they were young. I first worked for Mr. Patton when he was making movies. When he semi-retired and moved here, he insisted I come along. He made the down payment for me to buy a house. It was a real godsend at the time. I was a single mother raising two kids on my own."

  "He sounds like a generous person."

  "It's the way he's been ever since I've known him. Generous in many ways. He helped a number of young actors get started in their careers.

  He's modest, too. Never took credit for all the honors and accolades he won. Insisted his fine acting was the result of the directors, his fellow actors, and the technical crews.”

  "Is he involved much in the community?"

  "Well, he wouldn't tell you but I will. He's the major benefactor to the local theatre group. His donations are what keep it going.

  But once he got away from the environment of the studios and all the public relations activities required of him as a big star, he began to enjoy his solitude more and more. He withdrew from community ac
tivities and let his wife take over. He's content now growing his roses and showing his dogs. I believe he's more proud of the first in show ribbons his dogs have won than of all the gold statues the picture industry awarded him."

  "Is his wife as generous?"

  Her answer was blunt: "Nope. He's the one who writes all the checks for charities. She's much tighter with the purse strings except when it comes to her wardrobe or the dinner parties she likes to host."

  "You don't seem to be a huge admirer. How did you come to work for her?"

  "Simple supply and demand, you might say. He needed me less and less. She needed someone more and more. He was grateful to have someone he trusted who was . . ." She stopped short, putting her hand to her lips.

  "Willing to put up with her?" Tom finished.

  "Don't think I'm talking out of school. They both know how I feel. I'm happy to do it to repay all the kindness Mr. Patton has shown me through the years."

  "I appreciate your candor. It helps me get a better picture of who I'm dealing with. One last question. How well did the Councilwoman know Neal Henderson?"

  "That I can't help you with. She kept her personal affairs private."

  Tom's eyebrow rose. Was her choice of words intentional?

  "You don't have to mince words with me, Detective. You want to know if the Councilwoman had an affair with the deceased. If Mrs. Patton had any indiscretions, she would be especially careful about letting me be privy to them knowing how close I am to Mr. Patton. As far as I know, Neal Henderson came to her office once or twice but only on the pretext of business."

  "What business?"

  "As I recall, he was here to discuss some business with the Planning Department, asking her advice on how best to handle something. An arrogant sort of fellow, but he behaved with propriety."

  Tom thanked her and jogged down the sweeping stairs of the city offices. The time spent with Rosemary Hanson had more than compensated for his lack of results at the Planning Department. He wished all his interviews were as productive.

  Still, he had to ask himself: Was Rosemary's disapproving caricature of Mrs. Patton prejudiced by her own feelings for her benefactor?

  Driving out of the parking lot, Tom enjoyed a sense of making progress. Regardless of the accuracy of her secretary's portrayal, he was even more eager for his upcoming interview with the Councilwoman.

  Chapter Fifteen

  "What do you want, Paul?" Lea answered snappily.

  "You to be happier to hear from me for starters."

  "Sorry. I already got an email from Councilwoman Patton saying someone else has won the bid." She sounded more than disappointed; she sounded angry.

  "Sorry to hear that, babe."

  "I'm going to call to make an appointment to see her. I worked hard on this proposal. It's one of the best I've ever done. I was more certain I would win this one than any other I've submitted. I'd like to know why I didn't get it."

  "You've lost bids before and you usually aren't given a reason. Why is this different?"

  "For one thing, because the rejection came so quickly. My gut is telling me the woman rejected my bid to keep me from asking more questions about Neal Henderson. It's not fair."

  It was Paul's turn to be angry. "You asked the Councilwoman about Neal Henderson? What are you talking about, Lea?" he demanded.

  Lea was put on the defensive. "She mentioned him in the course of the conversation. All I did was ask a few questions about their relationship."

  "Their relationship? What relationship?" Paul asked incredulously.

  Lea refused to explain herself to her doubting husband by admitting her conclusion was based on intuition.

  "Something she said made me think she knew Neal on a level other than business."

  "Made you think?" His voice left little doubt; Paul was irate. "Don't you mean your so-called woman's instinct kicked in causing you to insult the Councilwoman by making an untoward implication?"

  "My reason for asking questions wasn't so obvious," she countered, trying to placate him.

  "It was apparently obvious enough she awarded the bid to someone else. Undoubtedly to keep you from pestering her further by taking away the opportunity you might have had to work with her."

  Lea barely heard his words as her anger slowly turned to excitement. "But don't you see, Paul? If that's why she denied me the bid, and I don't believe there was any other valid reason, it proves she has something to hide. Why else would it bother her to answer any questions I had about Neal?"

  "I think this entire episode proves that your overly inquisitive nature . . ."

  "Go ahead and say it. Don't you mean my amateur sleuthing as you like to call it?" she suggested, trying to lighten the tone the conversation had taken.

  "I could use a better description, like butting into other people's business. Whatever you choose to call it, it's become a detriment, first to Maddy's safety, now to your profession." Lea could hear Paul taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

  "Have you ever considered it might be my true calling rather than being a business writer?" she giggled, trying to restore his good mood.

  "Not even for a moment."

  "Nevertheless, I'm going to see the Councilwoman to find out why I lost the bid," she announced stubbornly.

  "Fine." Lea could hear the exasperation in his voice. "I'm only wasting my breath trying to talk you out of it. I'll see you tonight. But please, may I ask one thing?"

  "Of course, sweetheart, anything," she purred.

  "When you see her. . ."

  "Did you say when?"

  "Yes, when, because I know regardless of what I say, you're determined to charge ahead." The anger in his voice was replaced with concern. "I'm only asking you to dial it down a notch and stay out of trouble."

  "No problem. Tell you all about it when you get home tonight."

  Grabbing her purse and keys, she called for Gracie. "Maybe you better come with me, girl, to help me keep my promise to Paul."

  * * *

  Certain the Councilwoman wouldn't agree to a meeting if she called ahead, Lea decided to go to City Hall on the off chance an opportunity to see Mrs. Patton would present itself. She parked in the lot reserved for visitors, opened the tailgate, and walked the border collie to a grassy area.

  Chuckling, she gave the dog instructions: "You do your business, Gracie; then I'll go inside and do my business."

  Lea turned her gaze toward the front of the building as the dog squatted. Hurrying down the front steps toward a black limousine parked in the loading zone was none other than the object of Lea's visit.

  Yanking at Gracie's leash, Lea ran toward the front steps. "Councilwoman . . ."

  The dog caught up and was pulling Lea across the slope leading to the sidewalk where the limo was parked. "Mrs. Patton, could I have a minute, please?"

  The woman turned, surprised at hearing her name called, and more surprised at the sight of the woman running toward her behind a small mass of gold and white flying fur. "Lea, is that you? What in the world . . ."

  Lea apologized, breathlessly: "I'm sorry. I was coming to make an appointment to see you.” Ignoring the woman's stern look, she plunged ahead: "To find out why I wasn't awarded the bid."

  Realizing how unreasonable her request may have sounded, she added: "I understand, of course, you obviously found someone more qualified or at a better price but I want to make sure it wasn't because of my presentation."

  Lea was suddenly aware of how foolish she must appear. Her hair was flying in all directions and she was perspiring. "What I mean to say is, if I know the reason I wasn't chosen, it would help me improve presentations to future prospective clients."

  She tried to smooth her hair with one hand while holding Gracie's leash with the other.

  The Councilwoman raised herself to her full height, glaring at Lea: "All you are entitled to know is the bid was awarded to someone else. I'm not in the habit of discussing my decisions with anyone. I have nothing else to say o
n the matter except I have no time for this. I'm late for an appointment of my own."

  Turning abruptly, she gave instructions to the uniformed man holding open the door of the limousine: "Let's go, Max. I'm in a hurry."

  Without thinking, Lea moved toward the car in a last attempt to speak further but the Councilwoman had slipped into the back seat. The driver shut the door and turned quickly. Grasping one beefy arm with the other and extending both arms in front of his body, he blocked Lea. "Sorry, ma'am," he spoke brusquely. "The Councilwoman can't talk with you."

  The low rumbling emanating from the dog drew the attention of both Lea and the driver.

  "Gracie, hush," Lea commanded, surprised and embarrassed. "Don't worry," she assured the man as she yanked the leash. "The dog’s friendly. Sorry for the interruption."

  Lea leaned over to offer the Councilwoman a placating smile but the tinted windows prevented her from seeing in. She and Gracie stepped away from the vehicle as the driver rounded the car and took his place in the driver's seat. In seconds, the vehicle pulled away from the curb and sped out of sight.

  Lea saw Gracie was in guard mode, fur bristling, ears pointed, and tail rigid.

  "Wow, easy, girl." She patted the dog's head. "Who got your dander up? The Councilwoman or her driver?"

  Back at the car, Lea got Gracie settled in giving her a hug to relieve her tension. "From your reaction, I'd say her driver is more of a bodyguard than a chauffeur."

  * * *

  Maddy had time to kill before meeting Lea for lunch.

  Her sister had called earlier, breathless with excitement. "Wait until you hear about the interesting encounter I had this morning."

  "I can hardly hear you, Lea. Are those dogs barking?"

  "Yeah. I'm at the pet groomer with both dogs. Can't talk now. What time do you get off for lunch?"

  "I'm meeting a client at noon to pick out carpet samples. I'll be done by 1:00."

  "The Diner?"

  "Sounds good. See you there."

  * * *

  Maddy’s appointment at the carpet factory had gone well and she'd sent her client packing with an armful of samples. "I think I've earned a reward. What will it be? Truffles or bonbons?" she asked herself, staring into the window of the chocolate shop.