MURDER AT THE PIER (A Sister Sleuths Mystery Book 1) (14 page)

"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 activities 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.

"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 on 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.

"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.”