The Nut Case

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The Nut Case Page 1

by Rayna Morgan




  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  An excerpt of Murder At The Pier

  Sister Sleuths Mysteries Box Set

  Sister Sleuths Mystery Series

  From the Author

  Copyright

  THE NUT CASE

  HOW IT ALL BEGAN

  A Sister Sleuths Novella

  Rayna Morgan

  CONTENTS

  Introduction

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  INTRODUCTION

  The driver’s eyes narrowed, piercing the morning fog in search of a familiar landmark. After navigating miles of roads with sharp curves and falling rock, the truck stop was a welcome sight. He exited the interstate and pulled his vehicle to an open pump.

  The driver, a man with a long, patchy beard wearing a nylon windbreaker, hopped out, stuck a nozzle in the tank, and wiped the windshield with a squeegee. While he waited for the tank to fill, he threw his jacket onto the seat of the cab and ran a comb through hair sticking out under a Dodgers baseball cap.

  He walked inside the convenience store to pay the cashier, a woman with steely blond hair and dark sunburn.

  “I’m going to Buena Viaje. They still working on the road to the coast?” he asked.

  “Yep. The westbound lane is closed for six miles. I guess we should be grateful the state has enough money to fix the potholes. I blew a tire on one of those things last month.”

  “I’m hitting the traffic wrong, just in time for the morning commute,” he grumbled. He looked over her shoulder at pictures on the wall showing glimpses of breakfast specials at the 24-hour diner.

  She caught his eye as she handed him the change. “The waffles are good. I had ‘em this morning.”

  “Yeah, I might as well be sitting here eating as waiting twenty minutes for a flagman to wave me through.”

  “Move your truck to the lot in the back.”

  “Sure thing.”

  The driver emerged from the diner thirty minutes later rubbing his belly. Approaching his vehicle, he noticed one of the cargo doors swinging open. He ran around to the back and saw the broken lock dangling. The Sunny Orchards truck was empty. He threw his baseball cap on the ground and swore.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Lea stood in her front yard waiting for the dogs. She pretended not to see the gray-haired, stooped woman walking toward them. “Ignore her,” she warned the pets.

  The Border collie disobeyed the command. With her white and gold tail waving in the air, the dog pranced over to the approaching figure.

  “Good morning, Lea,” Ida Allen said as she crossed the street. “It looks like another day of June gloom.” Lea’s neighbor pulled a treat from her apron pocket and offered it to the dog. “Here you go, girl.”

  Now you’ve done it, Gracie. For the sake of a biscuit, I'll be delayed twenty minutes. She brushed long, red hair from her face and forced a smile. “It will burn off by noon, like every other day." She didn’t mean to be unfriendly, but Ida’s penchant for gossip created a distraction she tried to avoid. As a home-based freelance copywriter, she had little time for idle chatter.

  “Paul must be working at the house this morning,” Ida said.

  Does she watch us come and go? “He has a conference call before he goes to his office.” Not that it’s any of your business. “How are you?”

  “Now that you ask...”

  Here we go.

  “Do you remember the odd noises I told you about the other day?”

  Wait, this sounds more interesting. “The ones in your back yard?”

  “I heard them again last night, this time on the patio.”

  “It could be a house burglar.”

  “I screamed and the intruder ran away.”

  “How terrible!” Lea imagined how frightening the scenario would be for someone living on their own. “Did you call the police?”

  Ida looked down. “I didn't want to do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “They’d think I’m just an old woman imagining things.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “That might be true. After it was over, I wasn’t sure I hadn’t dreamed it.”

  Lea nodded. “It’s easy enough to do. When Paul’s away on business and Jon and I are home alone, I sometimes imagine noises.” She patted the long, floppy ears of the white golden retriever sitting at her side. “But we have the dogs. Spirit and Gracie alert me if sounds are real.”

  Ida twisted the corner of her apron. “I was the youngest growing up and my siblings told me ghost stories. Maybe that’s where my fears started.”

  “My sister scared me, too,” Lea said. She removed her sunglasses, revealing gray-green eyes and long lashes. “I read mysteries under my blanket with a flashlight when mother thought I was asleep. Maddy sneaked into my bedroom wearing a mask and jerked the cover off my bed. I jumped every time, even knowing she'd come.”

  A smile crossed the older woman’s face. “I feel better talking about it, but I don’t mean to keep you. You’re busy.”

  Did she read my mind earlier and sense I was trying to avoid her? She used an excuse to end the conversation. “I'm on my way to Fresh & Healthy to buy vegetables. My parents are coming for dinner tonight.”

  Ida’s eyes lit up. “Will I be able to talk to your mother?”

  They're two of a kind. Mom knows more about my neighbors from gossiping with Ida than I do.

  “She may not have time. They’re driving up the coast.” Lea read the disappointment in her neighbor’s face. “They might stay overnight on their return trip to San Diego. I’ll make sure she drops by to see you.”

  “You do that.” The neighbor walked away, waving over her shoulder. “I want to tell her about my ghosts.”

  * * *

  Lea followed the dogs into the house and joined her husband in the kitchen. Paul poured two cups of coffee and pushed one across the counter. “Who were you talking to?”

  She wrapped her fingers around the mug. “Ida thinks she has ghosts.”

  Paul’s blue eyes twinkled. “Last month, she complained a strange man was lurking around the neighborhood.”

  “I remember. It turned out to be a city inspector.”

  “She nearly had him arrested. I hope she never needs a building permit. He won't be inclined to grant one after the trouble she caused.”

  Lea shrugged. “At least she’s observant.”

  “She has too much time on her hands,” Paul complained. “I wish she’d keep her crazy ideas to herself and not share them with my wife who has an overactive imagination herself.”

  Lea’s lips turned into a pout. “It’s my nose for crime. I inherited that from my father.”

  Paul grinned. “It’s a cute nose at that, but don’t bring your love of mysteries too close to home.”

  “Speaking of
genes, remember my parents are coming for dinner—”

  “On their way to the police convention. Don’t worry; I’ll be home in time to chat before we eat.” He stuffed papers in his briefcase and looked for his keys. “Do I need to get anything?”

  “All I need is vegetables. I’m going to Fresh & Healthy this morning.” She pointed at the Border collie holding a key fob in her mouth. “Will Tom be able to come?”

  “Thanks, girl.” Paul patted the dog and took his keys. “He wants to. He likes talking to your father, but there are no guarantees.”

  Lea understood the reference to their friend, Tom Elliot, a lieutenant in the major crimes unit of the Buena Viaje Police.

  “Tell him we’re eating early.”

  “He gets off at six, but he’s always on call.”

  “No problem if he's late or can’t make it. We’re used to it.”

  “All right, I’m off to the rat race.”

  “You can hardly call life in Buena Viaje a rat race.”

  “You’re right.” He grazed her cheek with a kiss. “Let’s keep it that way.”

  Her eyes widened. “What are you suggesting?”

  “Stay away from Ida and her wild imaginings. I enjoy the peace and quiet of this laid-back town.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Lea felt the car shake from the dogs moving around. “Settle down, you two,” she hollered over the seat. “We’re almost there.”

  She pulled into the parking lot of the Fresh & Healthy Food Store. Although she hated shopping, she enjoyed this store. The number of choices offered for each product at the large grocery chains overwhelmed her. She preferred smaller, local markets providing healthier options.

  The sweet aroma of strawberries drew her to the display at the front entrance. She placed two baskets of ripe berries in a shopping cart and proceeded into the store.

  Soft overhead lighting, walls covered with pictures of fruit and vegetables, and wood shelving created a welcoming environment. Bins displayed the vibrant colors of red tomatoes, green peppers, yellow zucchini, and orange carrots. Rows of vitamins were sorted by brand and cataloged alphabetically. Bulk food dispensers containing grains, seeds, and snacks lined an entire wall.

  She peered into a glass display case as she rolled the cart past the delicatessen. A carrot cake bursting with raisins and topped with cream cheese frosting tempted her, but she kept walking.

  Checking her list as she moved up the aisles, she was pleased with her progress until she got to the bins typically filled with nuts. She circled the containers without finding what she was looking for.

  This is disappointing. Jon and his grandfather munch on pistachios when they’re playing chess.

  She stuffed the shopping list in her purse and moved to a check-out register. After paying for her purchases, she read the name badge and leaned over the counter. “May I speak with the manager, Libby?”

  The cashier’s hand jerked and she dropped the receipt. Thin eyebrows arched above red-framed glasses. “I hope there’s nothing wrong with the service, ma’am.” She grabbed the ticket and handed it to Lea. Pink color crawling up her neck made traces of acne more prominent.

  Lea smiled to put the girl at ease. “Not at all. I only have a question.”

  “I’ll page him," the clerk responded. A microphone carried her words through the store. “Mr. Olson to checkout, please. Mr. Olson.” She turned back to Lea. “He’ll be right here. Did you find everything you were shopping for?”

  “That’s what I want to ask about.”

  A pleasant-looking man in his thirties appeared. He wore a blue and white striped shirt covered by a red apron. “Hey, Lea. How’s my favorite classmate?” he asked.

  When Lea enrolled Gracie in an agility training class and Paul declined to participate, she ended up paired with Ryan Olson and his dog for interactive exercises. She returned his smile. “The canine-in-training is outside in the car, barking at every dog that passes.”

  “My dog does the same. I wish teaching them to stop was part of the program.”

  “Have you noticed our dogs never bark during class? I think it’s the trainer’s aura. The dogs wouldn’t dare.”

  He smiled. “I think you’re right. What can I help you with?”

  “The last time I was here, the nut bins were empty. I assumed you'd receive another delivery, but there are still no pistachios. My father and son insist on having them during their chess and card games. Any chance there are some in the back?”

  His smile faded. “You’re not the only customer complaining. We didn’t receive our last three deliveries. I don't know when we’ll get more.”

  The cashier looked in their direction. They stepped off to the side.

  “I’m surprised you run out of items in high demand,” Lea said.

  “Believe me; I’d fill those bins if I could. This nut case is bothering me more than my customers.”

  “Nut case?”

  “It’s what my cousin and I call it. If you have a few moments, let’s move over to the deli section. We can have coffee and I'll explain what’s happening. The entire matter is driving me nuts!”

  * * *

  Lea found a table while Ryan walked behind the counter and poured two cups of coffee. He placed a mug in front of her and dropped several packets on the table. “Cream or sugar?”

  “Black is fine,” she answered.

  They watched people walking in the aisles as he stirred creamer in his cup.

  “It must be fun running this store,” Lea said. “How long have you worked in the food industry?”

  “Fifteen years. It’s the only business I’ve known. The cousin I mentioned owns a farm up north, Sunny Orchards.”

  “I’ve heard of it. One of the largest growers in the state.”

  “You could say Sunny is the reason I’m here.”

  “Your cousin got you this job?”

  “No, but he started me on this career path.”

  Lea’s natural curiosity surfaced. “How did he do that?”

  Ryan pushed his chair back from the table and crossed his legs. His voice was pleasant, matching a relaxed conversational style. “Sunny Orchards has been the main supplier for Fresh & Healthy for years, but my cousin started on a much smaller scale. When I was in high school, his farm was a fourth of its current size. I spent summers working there. That’s when I became interested in the food industry.

  “My cousin gave me names of his customers and suggested I get a part-time job while I was in school. This company was at the top of his list. When I got my work permit, I got a job as a bagger at one of their chain stores. After graduation, I entered the management training program. I’ve worked my way up from stocking shelves to manager.”

  “Is Sunny Orchards still their biggest supplier?”

  “Yes, and now they provide nuts as well.” He nodded toward the produce section. “Sunny used to grow only fruits and vegetables. When nuts became popular and their prices soared, he decided to plant pistachio trees.”

  “Was it difficult to change?”

  He nodded. “It wasn’t easy. Conversions require up-front capital to drop wells and plant trees. It means surviving years with no profits, something most small-scale farmers can’t afford.”

  “How did your cousin survive?”

  “He was contacted by a private equity firm interested in making money on the high demand for nuts. His farm was the biggest one in the valley. Investors provided funding for him to buy neighboring farms and convert the fields to grow nuts.”

  “Has it worked out for him?”

  “Sunny couldn’t be happier. He’s still doing what he loves, but without the stress of struggling on his own to make a profit. His work keeps him hopping since his farm has tripled in size and now the trees are producing.”

  “If the trees are producing, why doesn’t your store have any nuts?”

  “The trucks are being hijacked on their way to the grocery stores. Last week was the third scheduled delivery whi
ch didn’t arrive. The first two times, my cousin’s vehicles were hit.” He wadded a napkin in his clenched fist. “I sent my truck to pick up an order on Tuesday. It got hijacked, too.”

  “What do thieves do with stolen food?”

  “There’s a black market for everything. They hock what they steal to restaurants, convenience stores, or fruit and nut stands along the highway. Or they use a middleman to dispose of the goods.”

  “I imagine it’s a headache for you and a disappointment for your customers.”

  “A headache times two, believe me!” He rubbed a hand back and forth across his brow ironing out worry lines. “The shortage means prices go up. The customers complain when there’s a lack of nuts. When we finally get them, they complain about high prices.”

  “When do you expect to receive more?”

  “It’s hard to say. When there’s a scarcity, the big-box discount grocers get their orders filled first. It doesn’t leave much for the smaller stores.” He dropped the crumpled napkin in his empty cup. “That’s the problem in a nutshell.”

  “I sympathize with your dilemma. Making excuses to my father and son dims in comparison.”

  His smile returned. “I’m only sorry for your inconvenience.”

  “Don’t give it another thought. I hope for your sake they find the culprits soon.”

  “Ryan!” The man with the loud voice came storming toward their table. “Another one of my trucks got robbed.”

  The manager stood and stretched out a hand to stop the aggressor. “Cool off, Sunny. What’s going on?”

  The second man was stockier and shorter than Ryan. Unlike his clean-shaven cousin, a beard covered the lower part of his face. “They held up the truck on its way to make deliveries to Buena Viaje.”

  “Does that include the order for my store?”

  Sunny folded his arms in front of his chest. His response dripped with sarcasm. “You’re in Buena Viaje, aren’t you?”

  “Why charge in here to confront me?” The manager’s own composure was cracking.

  “Your employees knew about that delivery.”

  Ryan moved closer and clenched his fists. “You’re suggesting someone here had something to do with it?”

 

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