MURDER AT THE PIER (A Sister Sleuths Mystery Book 1) (4 page)

Lea overheard the coroner's remarks. "Oh, no; I know
him. He worked for one of my clients."

"What can you tell us about him?"

"Not a lot. He works for Don Carson, the big real
estate developer. Don's son Adam and Neal went to high school together.
Football heroes at Viaje High, surfers, heartthrobs from what Don complained about.
Girls used to distract both of them but his son was more studious. Neal was the
Casanova."

"Do they both work for Carson?"

"No; Adam went back East to one of the Ivy League
schools. He hooked up with a girlfriend and found a job there when he finished
graduate school. Don thinks his son will come back here once he's married his
girlfriend and they're ready to start a family.

Neal stayed out here and went to the state university. He
went to see Don about a job as soon as he got his business degree. Since he was
like a second son to Don, he was given a management position right away. Didn't
have to work his way up the corporate ladder."

"Was there any resentment about the favoritism Don
showed?"

"Not that I’ve heard of, but I'd be surprised if there
wasn't. Don has always been one of the most influential business people in the
County and his son is well liked and respected. From all accounts, Neal was
considered to be a 'pretender to the throne' so to speak."

"Interesting," Tom
mused, "And definitely worth looking into. There could be a motive for his
murder other than the burglary."

"Besides, what possible
reason would Henderson have for meeting with a gang of burglars?"

"What possible reason,
indeed," Tom pondered.
“Right
now, I've got to get back to my crime scene investigators. See you at the
station tomorrow."

Lea didn't need further convincing to get her
fingerprinting done and leave the scene as quickly as possible.

Driving to Valle Verde the
next morning, Tom punched in Ken Crosby's address on his handheld GPS unit. He
was familiar with the small town where Ken lived, but didn't recognize the name
of the street Ken recited when Tom called to ask if he could stop by. Tom
didn't want to call attention to the person unnecessarily by requesting that he
come to the station for an interview. At the same time, Tom hoped the man might
be a little more forthcoming if he was interviewed in the comfort of his own
home.

Fifteen miles north of Buena Viaje, Valle Verde got its
name from its location in a small valley surrounded by hills. The beauty of the
terrain made it a magnet for artists, musicians, and health enthusiasts. With a
population of only twelve thousand people, it boasted art galleries, boutique
hotels, and a variety of artisan shops. One of the most popular weekly events
was the Farmers Market held every Sunday featuring organic fruits and
vegetables, local jams and honey, and homemade bakery items.

Tom rolled the car windows down and his shirt sleeves up as
he drove. Being inland from the ocean made Valle Verde much hotter than coastal
towns, especially during the summer when temperatures could soar over one
hundred degrees. During the dry season May to November, the meaning of Valle
Verde, Green Valley, was incongruous as the hills turned from verdant green to
golden brown. It was still a month or two until the sizzling summer heat would arrive,
but Tom knew the area was already on fire alert due to the ongoing drought the County
had suffered.

Parking in the shade of a quartet of cottonwoods, the
Detective took a moment to observe. Ken's house was small but the exterior was
well kept: recently mowed yard, freshly painted shutters, large pots of
colorful flowers on the front porch, and bird feeders hanging from the shade
trees. The front yard was hemmed by a wood fence. A pop-up camper parked in the
driveway appeared to be well cared for.

The man answering Tom's knock was casually dressed in
jeans, plaid short-sleeved shirt, and boots. His thin but muscular physique was
offset by a leathery face, probably a by-product of a profession spent mostly
outdoors. Still, he appeared ten years younger than what Tom knew to be his age
of seventy-one.

Opening the screen door, Ken shook hands and gestured
toward the kitchen. "Come on in. I've been expecting you. Got a fresh pot
of coffee brewing."

Tom inhaled the aroma of coffee beans and the rich
fragrance of a jacaranda tree flowering in the back yard.

Ken poured the hot liquid into ceramic mugs and pushed one
across the kitchen counter. "What kind of information have you come
for?"

Appreciating Ken as a man of few words, Tom got right to
the point. "I was hoping you might be able to provide some insight into Neal
Henderson, the young man found murdered at the Pier. I understand you both
worked for Don Carson."

Pride was obvious in Ken's voice: "I worked for Don
Carson more than twenty years. I started as a worker on a construction crew and
worked my way all the way to Construction Manager. I was Don's Construction
Manager on more than forty projects in the County over the years, both
residential and commercial."

"I understand Neal was managing Don's latest
projects."

"That's right. He is . . . or maybe I should say he
was." Ken motioned for Tom to follow him to the front porch.

"Don and I had always worked on projects together. Don
handled the planning and financial side of it. He hired architects, arranged
for financing from lenders, and went to the Planning Department to get all the
Permits we needed. I was in charge of the construction side of the business.
Then, Neal Henderson came back to town after graduating from the state
university and everything changed."

"Changed how?"

Ken tilted his chair back. "He convinced Don to restructure
the company so there were two positions in the Construction Department: a
Project Manager and a Construction Manager. The Project Manager oversees the
administrative needs of the project, including budgeting and funding, but has
an on-site Construction Manager involved in the day-to-day personnel and site
supervision. Neal injected himself as the Project Manager and made me the
Construction Manager."

"So you continued to oversee the day-to-day
construction activities but reported to Neal?"

"You got it. He basically took over a lot of what Don
used to do himself by convincing Don he should start taking it easier.
Encouraged the boss to take his wife on those cruises he'd been promising her
for the last several years but never found time for. He found a willing accomplice
in Mary. Once she thought Don might finally have free time, she conspired with
her friend at the travel agency to put enough pressure on Don he would have
felt like a heel to refuse her any longer."

"But the new arrangement didn't sit well with
you?"

Ken cradled his mug. "I couldn't complain. I still had
my position as Construction Manager alright. But I felt Don was turning over
vital parts of the business to Neal, things he should have been keeping a
closer eye on. Things weren't the same."

"Was Neal hard to work for?"

"You could say that." Crossing his arms in front
of his chest, he looked Tom directly in the eyes. "Don't misunderstand me.
I'm not trying to speak ill of the dead. I'm only relating the facts as I saw
them. To answer your question, yes, Neal was a hard man for everyone to work
for."

"Hard to work for as far as being demanding or in
other ways?"

"Having a boss who's hard to work for isn't a lot of
fun, but I'm sure tough enough to do it to get the job done. But working for a
boss who’s dishonest and unethical, that's where I draw the line."

Tom's head jerked. He'd heard from other people about Neal
being arrogant and pushy, but this was an entirely new slant. "Can you
clarify?"

"Just what I said. I never had any proof to take to
Don, but I'd spent too many years knowing when projects begin to run off the
tracks. Like what was happening to Neal's projects. They were behind schedule
and over budget. The worst thing, I suspected he was substituting cheaper
materials than what the plans called for to make up for cost overruns. That
kind of foolhardy move can get you in a lot of trouble when the Building
Inspectors come around."

"Did you ever confront Neal with those
allegations?"

"Sure I did. I mean, I didn't like the arrogant son of
a gun, but I wanted him to succeed for Don's sake. Don thought of Neal as a
second son, and any man wants to be proud of a son. Besides, I didn't want him
to undermine Don's reputation."

"How did Neal react?"

"Not good by any definition. He ranted and raved about
my questioning his abilities because I was jealous. Told me I was over the
hill, out of touch with new trends in construction management. He finished by
laughing, saying I couldn't prove any of it, and if I was smart, I wouldn't go
around raising doubts, especially in Don's mind, about what kind of job he was
doing."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "You mean he threatened
you?"

"Not in so many words, but he made it clear he wasn't
going to let me stand in the way of his getting to the top."

"You think he had plans to take over Don's business
someday?"

"I think he saw it as a strong possibility, especially
if Don's son stayed on the East Coast."

Tom peppered Don with more questions. "What happened
between you and Neal after the confrontation? Why did you end up leaving? Were
you fired or did you leave of your own volition?"

"Oh, Neal could never have taken things to that
extreme. For one thing, Don would never have heard of me being fired." Ken
cupped his hands behind his head. "Instead, Neal did whatever he could to
make my job unpleasant. It got to the point where it wasn't fun anymore. So I
told Don I was ready to retire."

"Was it true?"

"Not hardly. Don was ready to semi-retire and start
traveling with Mary, but I would have worked another five years at least. I
lost my wife nine years ago of cancer. My job was what I got up for in the
morning." Don swallowed hard, turning his head to the side. "Like I
say, once it became work and not something I loved doing, it was time to
leave."

"Were you bitter about how Neal forced you out?"

"Nope. First of all, he didn't force me out. It was
totally a decision I made for my own peace of mind. Secondly, Don gave me a
generous retirement bonus in appreciation of all the years we'd worked
together. Something totally unexpected but enough to let me devote all my time
to a lifetime passion."

"Which is?" Tom asked with interest.

Ken smiled for the first time, and his eyes twinkled.
"I've been flying for recreation for years but I'm doing something now
I've wanted to do my whole life. I'm building my own plane from scratch. A
sweet little biplane I'm building in my garage. Can't wait for the day when I
take it up for the first time. May be a little scary," he chuckled,
"in case I've made any mistakes. But it will be a once-in-a-lifetime
thrill."

Tom laughed. "You're a braver man than me. But you've
got a lot more construction knowledge than I have, too. I'm sure it will be a
beauty."

* * *

Tom took his time getting back to the station, enjoying the
view of the ocean as he drove away from the valley. He'd like to eliminate Ken
Crosby as a suspect.

Ken seems like a nice guy and it appears the man has
found his own sense of peace with the way things worked out at Carson's
company. Or is the sense of peace I detect a result of Ken having already
wreaked his revenge on the man who brought his career to an unhappy ending?

Tom knew better than to dismiss any possible suspect
without reviewing means, motive, and opportunity.

Ken could have easily driven to the Pier and had a
confrontation with the victim on the deserted beach without being noticed. It's
easy to see Ken is an avid physical fitness practitioner. He would have had no
problem overpowering Neal if circumstances so dictated.

Which brought Tom to the next question:
Could Ken have
known Neal would be at the Pier that time of night? Was it merely a chance
encounter between the two men, setting off a deep seated hatred and anger in
Ken which led to the fatal outcome?

Tom explored another possible motive:
Had Ken been privy
to information Neal was involved in the burglaries? On the fatal night in
question, was Ken looking for proof to discredit Neal for good in the eyes of
Don Carson? Had things gone terribly wrong in his quest for proof?

The Detective knew it was too early to remove Ken Crosby from
his list of suspects.

* * *

The next day, Maddy
waited impatiently as Lea gave the waiter at their favorite outdoor restaurant
her lunch order for a Crab Louie salad and iced tea. Having heard about her
sister’s exciting car chase and discovery of a dead body, Maddy was now anxious
to hear what news Lea had about Tom Elliot's suspect list. Her perfectly shaped
eyebrows rose when she heard one of the names.

"Beth Owens? Her mother, Helen, is one of my
customers. When Helen remodeled, she and I spent a couple of days together
picking out living and dining room furniture. I took her to the Furniture
Design Center where we found several antique pieces which fit perfectly into
her decor."

"Did you ever meet Beth?"

"Beth came to Helen's house one afternoon when we were
trying rug samples on the floors. She's as lovely in person as the pictures
five years ago when she won the title of Miss Buena Viaje."

Maddy paused momentarily while the waiter delivered their
drink order. "It was around the time Beth was engaged to be married to Neal
Henderson. She was gushing on to her mother and me about furnishing the new
house she and Neal would be building soon after the wedding. A marriage, you'll
recall, which never took place."

"The fact Neal called off the wedding days before the
big event was scheduled to take place is why Beth is on Tom's list of suspects."

Maddy voiced her doubts. "Are the police implying
revenge as a motive?"

"Obviously. Any woman would be mortified to be treated
that way."

"The young woman I met at Helen's home didn't seem
capable of anything but joy and happiness."

Maddy paused, remembering how she had changed after her own
marriage ended in divorce. A shadow of pain flitted across her face as she
continued. "But I know bitter disappointment can change a person
completely."

Lea tried to offer reassurance. "Hopefully for her
sake, it's more a matter of eliminating her from the list rather than the
police seriously suspecting her capable of such a terrible act."

Maddy's face lit up. "We might be able to get information
from Beth that could help remove her from the suspect list".

"How do you propose we do that?"

"By giving her an opportunity to open up about her
feelings. She'll talk to us more easily than to Tom using his brusque
interrogation style in the environment of the police station."

"Maybe so. But where or when will we have a chance to
talk with her?"

"Tomorrow morning at the office where I have an
appointment to have my teeth cleaned. Beth is the receptionist for my dentist.
She may not go to work today so soon after learning of Neal's death but I'm
sure by tomorrow she'll be back at work."

Maddy flashed a dazzling smile. "You can come with me
and try to talk with her while the hygienist works on these pearly whites. I'm
sure if you offer her a sympathetic shoulder, she'll be more than happy to cry
on it."

Lea hesitated momentarily. "Neither Paul nor Tom would
approve."

"If nothing comes of it, they never need to
know," her sister reasoned.