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

by Rayna Morgan

  "That stuff isn't good for you."

  The unexpected voice over her shoulder made her jump. She whirled around and found herself staring up at a handsome familiar face. This close, she could see flecks of silver in his eyes. She took a quick step backward.

  Recovering quickly, she flashed her most dazzling smile as the man tipped his hat. "So now you're looking after my health as well as my safety?"

  Scott Miller's eyes creased in a smile. "Why don't you let me take you to lunch at the vegetarian place where you can have something healthy to eat?"

  "Thanks for your concern regarding the state of my health, but I'm meeting my sister for lunch." Hoping it was disappointment she saw reflected in his face, she added quickly: "I suppose I have time for a carrot drink."

  She moved into step beside him: "Don't look so surprised. I actually take care of my body when I'm not putting it in harm's way as I've been accused of doing lately."

  He gave her a once over. "Oh, I'd say you take great care of your body."

  Blushing, she stuck her nose in the air. "I'm surprised you know about the Healthy Planet. I would have figured you for a meat and potatoes man."

  He gave a half smile, the kind of smile that made her want to see more of it. "Because I'm a rancher? That's a cliché. Raising cattle doesn't mean meat is all we eat."

  He touched her elbow gently when the light changed, guiding her across the street. When they entered the restaurant, it was filling quickly, a line forming at the order counter.

  "Get us a booth. I'll order your carrot juice."

  He returned in moments, setting a glass with orange liquid in front of her. Sliding into the booth across from her, he removed his black Stetson running a hand through his thick, curly hair. She noticed the cowlick at his hairline.

  "That stuff isn't good for you," she mimicked, watching him lift a mug to his mouth.

  "If you must know, it's not coffee; it's green tea."

  He turned the mug slowly as he spoke. All of his movements seemed relaxed and fluid.

  "So, Ms. Maddy. I'm learning all sorts of things about you.” He leaned back, scrutinizing her. “You like chocolate but force yourself to drink carrot juice because it's good for you."

  "How do you know I'm forcing myself to drink carrot juice?"

  "From the way your nose crinkles every time you put the glass to your lips."

  Her cheeks turned pink a second time as she rested her chin in her palm.

  Amusement glistened in his eyes as he continued. "You've got dust allergies so you probably work out at a spa in town instead of hiking in the country."

  Is he laughing at me?

  He stared at her a long moment. "I bet you're not a morning person either."

  A vision of what the man sitting across from her might look like in the morning flashed in her head. She looked into the dark, penetrating eyes of Scott Miller and knew he had no trouble reading her thoughts.

  "How would you know?" she demanded.

  He gave a simple explanation. "Because you work in retail, not in an office. It means you go to work later in the morning and sometimes work at night."

  "I suppose you're up and about at the crack of dawn?" she replied testily, trying to turn the focus of the conversation away from her.

  "I'm usually out on the range with my foreman by six o'clock checking to see if we had any problems during the night."

  A smile returned to her lips. "You mean people actually carry on conversations at such a ghastly hour?"

  Scott laughed. "Many people do, yes."

  "What kind of problems would you have during the night?" she asked with interest.

  "Coyotes coming down from the hills to make a meal of one of the sheep or young calves."

  She grimaced: "Why would anyone in their right mind leave a perfectly comfortable bed in the middle of the night to view a grim sight like that?"

  Amusement shone in his eyes. "Because it's part of a rancher's job."

  She gave a lopsided grin: "Maybe ranchers don't have the right incentive to stay in bed."

  He stroked his chin. "I can see you're a handful, but sort of a delightful one."

  “What else do you think you know about me, or should I ask what else did Maria tell you?”

  “She told me you’re not married or we wouldn’t be sitting here having this conversation. Don’t worry, I didn’t ask for details.”

  “I don’t mind talking about my divorce.” She twisted the ring on her middle finger. “I met Eric when I was living the fun life of a single person in the big city. Unfortunately, he was married when we met but he didn’t let that stop him from pursuing me and frankly, I wasn’t above having an affair with a married man. I never expected anything to come of it.”

  “How did you go from having an affair to being married?”

  “His wife found out about us and left him, taking their two children. Eric’s the type man who has to be married; he can’t wake up in the morning without a woman beside him. So he talked me into it.”

  “Sounds like you weren’t ready to be married.”

  “Eric and I were opposites in that regard. I enjoyed the single life. I had a great job at the Design Center so I was financially independent. I could travel whenever I wanted. I had a group of friends I socialized with for entertainment: rock climbing, mountain biking, Lakers games, restaurant and bar hopping.”

  “What about starting a family?”

  “My sister inherited the maternal genes. She married when she was twenty and had their son when she was twenty-two. Eric’s ex moved to San Francisco but he had visitation every other week and alternating holidays. Being a stepmother was more than enough parenting for me. I liked his kids but their mom was bitter over his affair. She made it difficult for them to accept me without feeling disloyal to her.”

  “That’s rough. I’ve seen too many children put in situations where they’re made to feel they have to choose between Mom and Dad.”

  He’s listening and putting himself in my shoes. It’s one of the things I like about him. “The kids and I found a way to make our relationship work. They weren’t the reason the marriage fell apart.”

  She curled a strand of hair in her fingers; then let it fall place in place. “When I made up my mind to marry Eric, I convinced myself he wouldn’t cheat on me the same way he cheated on his ex. When it happened, I wasn’t terribly surprised but it didn’t make it any less painful.”

  “How long were you married?”

  “Eight years. The first six were good. I could have left sooner but I try not to play the ‘could have, should have’ game with myself.”

  “Why didn’t you stay in the city? You enjoyed living there.”

  “It wasn’t the same. All my single friends were married by then. The excitement of living in a big city had worn thin; too much traffic, pollution, overcrowding. Maddy and Paul had moved to Buena Viaje to be closer to his parents. During visits with them, I grew to love this quaint little town and the uncrowded beaches. It seemed to be the right place and the right time. Eric bought out my equity in the condominium we owned. I bought a cottage close to the ocean and have never looked back.”

  “I can relate to the right place and the right time. That’s how I ended up here myself.”

  “I’d like to hear about that. It’s your turn.”

  He was quick to change the subject. “Maybe next time. Aren’t you supposed to be meeting your sister?”

  She’d lost all track of time. "I better go."

  "I'd still like to buy you lunch. Call your sister and ask her to join us."

  Her smile faded. She turned her head to hide her disappointment. If he's willing to have Lea join us, he's not interested in having me all to himself, the way I feel about him.

  "Sure," she answered nonchalantly, punching a number into her phone.

  "Hey, Sis. Change of plans. Meet me at The Healthy Planet. Scott Miller is treating us to lunch," adding crustily, "if you're willing to put up with his cheekiness."


  * * *

  Once Lea joined them, the three of them stood in line and placed their orders from the wooden menu hanging on the wall. The women returned to the table placing their assigned number where the server could see it while Scott collected napkins, plastic utensils, and bottled water.

  The table had two booths creating an awkward moment for Scott to choose which woman to sit beside. Without missing a beat, he dragged an empty chair across the floor, positioning it at the end of the table. He grabbed his hat from the booth and hooked it on the back of the chair. He and Maddy shifted around after bumping knees under the table.

  "So what's the big news you wanted to tell me?" Maddy asked half-heartedly.

  Lea hesitated, her eyes darting from Maddy to Scott and back to Maddy.

  "Oh, it's alright," Maddy said petulantly. "You can talk in front of him. He's harmless."

  Lea noted the dynamic between the two with interest but pitched into her story. She related her first meeting with the Councilwoman and their strange run-in that morning, including her dog’s reaction.

  "To be honest, when her chauffeur stepped in front of me to prevent my talking to her, it gave me the creeps," Lea shivered.

  Maddy placed her hand over her sister's arm. "You poor thing. What a nasty scene."

  "I don't know which of them provoked Gracie more, the Councilwoman or her chauffeur."

  "As I told you before, Lea, your dog has good instincts," Scott cautioned. "Max is a tough guy; somebody you don't want to mess with. He's been a driver and a bodyguard for the Pattons for as long as I can remember."

  "You know him?"

  "Most people around here do. Maybe not the crowd you run with but there are several places in town where men run into him."

  Maddy drew back in surprise. "Exactly what kind of places are you referring to?"

  When he started to grin, she narrowed her eyes at him.

  "I mean places like the gym, the shooting range, and the karate studio. He's a Black Belt and a crossFit expert."

  His expression turned serious. He flicked his eyes from Maddy to Lea and back. "I repeat. He's a guy you don't want to mess with."

  They finished their lunch and Scott headed for the door. Maddy felt deflated. It seemed obvious he had no interest in pursuing a relationship. She was putting on her sunglasses when she saw him turn and walk back to their table. Her heart pounded as he leaned over her: "I forgot to ask. Do you have a phone number you might be willing to share?"

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tom and Paul entered the patio area outside the gym after their workout. With few people using the equipment at that hour, they were able to put in a vigorous session. They were alone at the snack bar as they relaxed with an energy drink.

  Paul stretched his arms over his head. "I'm assuming your asking to meet now instead of our regular noon workout was to avoid the crowd."

  "Both from the standpoint of the workout and because of the conversation we're about to have which needs to be confidential."

  "Why do I feel this is going to lead to your asking for a favor?"

  Tom grinned, kneading his shoulder. "Because you know me so well."

  "What's up?"

  "I know you spend time at City Hall representing your clients in one capacity or another. What about the Planning Department?"

  "My clients typically have someone on their staff designated to submit Plans and obtain Permits. But yes, on occasion, my clients ask me to take care of those issues."

  "Do you have any connections there you might be able to get information from?"

  "Depends on what kind of information you're after."

  "Okay, let me lay it out for you and you can decide if you can help." Tom wiped his towel over his face and arms. "Neal Henderson's criminal activity may have gone deeper than we first thought."

  "What do you mean?"

  "There may have been a three-legged collusion for mutual gain between someone in the Planning Department, a member of the City Council, and Neal."

  "Are you talking about a possible pay-to-play scenario?”

  "Yep. Information has recently come into my possession which leads me to suspect Charles White, the Planning Director, received favorable treatment in the form of cash or other benefits from Neal in exchange for approving Permits for Don Carson’s projects." Tom tipped his head back, draining the last of his protein drink. "As you know, money exchanged for services or the privilege to engage in certain activities has been uncovered in a lot of industries; certainly not unheard of between developers and Planning Departments."

  "Sadly, you're right. I recall several cases, but it's hard to believe it's happening here."

  "I'm not suggesting outright money bribery but there may have been more subtle exchanges of gifts or other benefits."

  "Why do you think Charles White is involved?"

  "There's only one person in a position to directly influence the approval of Building Permits: the Planning Director. Many of the Plan Approvals granted by the City Council are based solely on his recommendation."

  "Wow, I'm stunned," Paul said, shaking his head. "What got you started on this?"

  "As part of our murder investigation, we got a court order to access Neal's bank statements. There were several large withdrawals of cash in the two or three weeks preceding his death.

  At about the same time, we received an anonymous tip that the Planning Director had accepted a twelve thousand dollar membership from the Golf Club during the time Neal was lobbying for approval of his Building Plans. If it's true, it qualifies as the Planning Director's illegal receipt of a gift from a developer in exchange for Permits. At a minimum, grounds enough to cost him his job."

  "How much in cash incentives are you talking about?"

  "The cash withdrawals were for fifteen thousand, eleven thousand, and nine thousand dollars. We haven't been able to track where the cash ended up. I'd love to be able to take a look at Mr. White's bank records but without any real proof, I have no grounds to secure a warrant. At any rate, he's probably hidden any large influxes of cash in a separate account to avoid detection."

  "Do you know what specifically the payoffs were for?"

  "Neal was managing two large projects for Carson Development prior to his death. Mr. White was responsible for assessing and making recommendations to the City Council on both of those Development Applications.

  "What were the projects? I may be familiar with them."

  "Victoria Square is one of them."

  "Yes, I've heard about it. A mixed-use project proposed to be built on the hillside above the downtown area. Residential units, retail space, and a parking garage."

  "That's the one. Plans indicate projected costs to be in the range of eighteen million dollars.

  "The other is The Quarter, an apartment project in midtown with estimated costs of ten million."

  "So you're talking considerable money at stake."

  "Apparently considerable enough to convince the City Planner to risk losing his job by accepting bribes."

  "You said you think it was a three-party scheme."

  "I think Councilwoman Patton may have been the third party."

  The shock showed on Paul's face. "What makes you say that?"

  "I have reason to believe Mrs. Patton and Neal were involved in a personal relationship." Tom paused: "It may have started innocently enough as a mutual physical attraction, a fling. It fit right into his profile of being a Casanova. Once in the relationship, Neal realized what a perfect opportunity it afforded him."

  "Could it have been Neal's plan all along to entice the Councilwoman into a relationship for the sole purpose of personal gain?"

  "We'll probably never know if Neal pursued her solely from honest attraction or if he had ulterior motives from the outset."

  Paul considered what Tom was suggesting. "But she wouldn't have been in a position to assure him Permit approval directly."

  "That's correct, but I believe she was instrumental in bringing Ne
al and the Planning Director together so they could work out a mutually beneficial enrichment scheme."

  "It was a pretty daring move on her part. She would have been in serious trouble if the Planning Director had reported she approached him."

  "Probably not as risky as it might appear. The tip we received suggested even though Mr. White knew Mrs. Patton and Mr. Henderson had a friendship involving dinner dates, he never questioned them about the relationship or reported his suspicions to the rest of the Planning Department staff or the City Council. The fact he took no effective action to deal with Mrs. Patton's apparent conflict of interest sent a signal to the two of them that the Director was approachable regarding his own involvement in a possible pay-for-play scenario."

  Paul leaned back, taking a deep breath: "Quite a scheme, if it's true."

  "Between the three of them, they had the bases covered. If Plans were required to go before the City Council for approval, the Councilwoman was in the perfect position to ensure their success. Then, as different phases of the projects were completed and ready for Final Permits, Neal used his influence with the Planning Director to make sure those Permits were approved."

  "Those are pretty serious accusations, Tom."

  "And not ones I'm ready or even willing to make. There's no question if the Planning Director took compensation in exchange for favorable actions, both he and Neal Henderson committed a crime. At a minimum, it's reasonable to suspect both he and the Councilwoman were guilty of giving Neal Henderson information which shouldn't have been given."

  "But those crimes are out of your area of expertise,” Paul suggested, “and even if the District Attorney launches an investigation into Planning Department abuses, it could continue for years without results."

  "Exactly right. That's why I'm not interested in the bribery side of the whole sordid mess except in one key aspect.”

  “Which is?”

  “In my thinking, possible exposure of duplicity by either Mr. White or Mrs. Patton could be a motive for murder."