MURDER AT THE PIER (A Sister Sleuths Mystery Book 1) (15 page)

“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?"

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 Neal 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."

"What can I do to
help?"

"My problem is I have no proof. Without it, I can't
get anyone to open up about what was going on. The Planning staff
understandably fear losing their jobs by blowing the whistle on their
Director's wrongdoing. Until staffers are confidentially interviewed as part of
a criminal investigation, the full extent of agency wrongdoing will remain
undisclosed."

"What can you do in the meantime?"

"All I need now is sufficient presumptive evidence to
put enough pressure on Charles White or Margaret Patton to break this thing
open."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Keep your eyes and ears open for anything that might provide
what I need."

"What specifically are you looking for?"

"Any signs of impropriety in the Department the
staffers may have noticed."

"Why do you think they'd tell me?"

"Because of the anonymous tip we received. Someone has
seen something they think is illegal, but they don't want to be a whistleblower."

"Any way to identify the caller?"

"Whoever placed the call was careful. We hoped
tracking the call would lead us to an extension at City Hall but it traced to a
burner phone. The call came in late, after office hours. It was a woman's voice.
No identifying inflections or speech pattern."

"Doesn't narrow it down much, but I'll see what I can
do. Anything else?"

"My gut is telling me Charles White was the late
visitor to Neal's office the night before his murder. Maybe delivering Neal's
Permits in exchange for a cash payoff. It would account for Neal being in a
good mood the next day as his mother-in-law reported."

"I'll nose around and see what I find." Doubt
crossed Paul's face. "I suppose I do appear less imposing than you."

Tom put on a tough guy face. "Oh yeah. I'm Mr.
Intimidation. You're Mr. Nice Guy."

"That's what I hear from my wife all the time,"
Paul grinned. "It's why I get no respect at home."

"I get the same amount of respect from your wife's
sister, believe me."

"You mean as in none."

"I mean as in none."

The two men laughed as they headed for the locker room.

* * *

Paul stood outside the
Planning Department excited he’d been able to obtain information that should
prove helpful to Tom’s investigation but unwilling to walk away without digging
deeper into the Planning Director.

  He understood Tom's reluctance to investigate further
into possible corruption in the Planning Department; it wasn’t the Detective’s
bailiwick and most likely had nothing to do with the murder. But regardless of
his friend's position in the matter, Paul felt a need to determine for himself
if there was any truth to the allegations. He felt an obligation on behalf of
his clients, most of whom had dealings with the Planning Department. If there
were improprieties in the issuance of Plan Approvals or Permits, his clients
could be treated unfairly. On a personal level, even the intimation of
duplicitous behavior affronted his sense of integrity in business.

Paul considered his strategy.
The Director doesn't know
the police won't pursue allegations of misconduct. If I drop an intimidating
hint, he may tip his hand.

He returned to the counter and asked to see the Director on
the premise of seeking approvals for a client’s recent Plan submissions. Agreeing
to a fifteen to twenty-minute wait, he was escorted into an inner office where
a secretary worked at a small desk beside a door with the nameplate Charles
White, Planning Director. He had met the man on one previous occasion when a
client had introduced them. It was a brief exchange and Paul doubted the
Director would remember him.

The secretary introduced herself as Marcia Thomas and
quickly resumed her work. Paul sat on a metal chair next to a table with an
assortment of outdated magazines. Leafing through one of them, he was able to
observe her more closely.

A modestly but well-dressed woman in her forties,
color-treated hair tastefully styled, makeup expertly applied to accent her
eyes, undoubtedly her best feature.

Noting the stack of files beside her computer and on the
credenza behind her, Paul attempted to strike up a conversation. "Looks
like they keep you pretty busy."

Her reply was forthright but cordial. "We're used to
hearing the complaint that government is bloated, too big a budget to accomplish
too little of what constituents want. But we're actually understaffed here at
City Hall; most of us do the work of two people. We haven't had a raise for
several years, especially with the housing slump and the resulting loss of
property tax revenue."

"How long have you worked for the City?"

"Twelve years, the last four with Mr. White here in
Planning. Before that, I was in the Finance Department."

"I would imagine Planning to be more interesting than
Finance."

"You probably think that because your clients are real
estate developers. But yes, I've found working with Mr. White to be rewarding.
He's smart, congenial, and politically savvy. We make a good team." She
couldn't hide the pride in her voice. "He tells people I'm the nuts and
bolts behind his genius."

Do I detect a hint of
entitlement in the way she speaks about her relationship with the Director?

"You mentioned the amount of work. Does it require
working past regular office hours?"

"I don't mind working long hours. I have no family of
my own; I have the time available. But it doesn't usually mean extra money. The
budget has minimal provision for paying overtime."

"Does the Director work overtime as well?"

"He puts in his fair share. Of course, he's at a much
higher pay grade so he's more than adequately compensated. Enough, in fact,
that he and his wife recently returned from a cruise to the Bahamas." There
was no mistaking a trace of bitterness in her voice.