by Rayna Morgan
Stopping at the restroom, she rapped lightly. “Sandra, are you in there?”
Again, no response.
Her pulse quickened. Sandra wouldn’t have gone anywhere leaving her purse in plain sight.
She glanced toward the inner office which she knew belonged to Ian.
If Sandra’s in there, why hasn’t she heard me?
Gracie’s head was visible through the tinted car window. The black tips of the dog’s ears pointed forward as the jaw widened.
The barking was muffled, but sensing the dog’s agitation, Lea knew her sense of dread was not imagined.
As she shuffled slowly through the office, she felt the pulsing artery in her neck.
No one was there when she gingerly poked her head in Ian’s office. She let out the breath she’d been holding and laughed at her trepidation.
An image flashed in the corner of her eye like a floater. Her attention was drawn to an object on the floor.
A high-heeled shoe.
Walking around the desk, she saw the body the shoe belonged to.
Her stomach wrenched. She bent over, grasping a chair for support.
She pressed two fingers on the artery, as she’d done earlier. In this case, it wasn’t hers and there was no pulse.
Trembling, she backed away from the prone figure.
A tinkling sound at the front door signaled someone’s entrance.
“Sorry, Lea. I’m running late,” a voice boomed.
Ian came rushing into his office. Lea threw an arm across his chest.
“Stop. Don’t come any further.”
He looked at the stricken woman. “What’s wrong?”
Lea’s mouth opened, but no sound came.
Alarmed, he called out. “Sandra, are you here?”
When he got no response, he turned back to Lea.
“Her car’s out front. Where is she?”
“Something dreadful has happened.”
Lea put her arm under Ian’s elbow and steered him from the office.
Seating him in the reception area, she held his hand.
“Sandra is dead.”
Shock rippled across his face but she couldn’t take time to comfort him.
Instead, she grabbed her phone and punched in the number of her husband’s best friend.
• • •
In the Major Crimes Division of the Buena Viaje Police Department, Tom Elliot pushed away from his desk and stared at the ceiling.
The way the morning’s going, I can play a game over the lunch hour.
He leaned forward to pick up his phone. When he got no answer, he left a message.
“Hey, Paul. It’s Tom. Looks like I’ll have time to whip you on the racquetball court this noon. Let me know if you can make it.”
A blond short-haired woman entering his office heard the message.
“Hey, Lieutenant,” said Detective Pat Fisher. “You’ve never threatened to beat me on the courts. Afraid to be shown up at that testosterone filled gym where you work out?”
The rookie had the requisite qualities of a good cop. Courage, technical skills, and natural instincts. But it was her conviction and motivation that would turn her into a great detective.
Pat was as relentless as a bulldog in pursuit of justice, fueled by a deep compassion for victims. The sole female member of the homicide squad, she was unwilling to be regarded as anything less than an equal in the predominantly male environment.
If Pat had any quality which her superiors viewed as a flaw, it was one she shared in common with Tom. Neither of them would let outside influences or department politics get in the way of finding the truth.
As head of homicide, the lieutenant was more than her boss and mentor. Pat once told Tom he was the kind of detective and human being she strived to emulate. Coming from anyone other than her, Tom might have viewed the statement as brown-nosing. From someone with Pat’s high moral standards, he considered it an accolade. One he made sure he lived up to.
Tom grinned at the junior officer.
“Okay, Rookie, you’re on. If I don’t hear from Paul, we’ll have a match. Be prepared to bring your A-game.”
“I never bring less, Boss.” She punched the air with her fist. “In anything I do.”
Tom’s phone buzzed. The call was coming in on his private line.
“That’s probably Paul. I'm afraid you’ll miss your chance.”
As he listened to the caller, his smile disappeared, replaced by the stern voice and rigid body posture of a person in command.
“Don’t let anyone in. Don’t take or make calls on the office line, and don’t touch anything. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
He grabbed his keys, brushing past the startled officer.
“C’mon, Fisher. Our day has been turned upside down.”
His telephone rang again. He looked at the number before pressing the button.
“Thanks for calling back, Paul. Your wife just saved you from being humiliated on the court and ruined my quiet morning.”
• • •
Tom’s words rang in her ears but Lea knew the initial moments after learning of death, a person is often in shock. Words spoken or emotions revealed in those moments could be vital.
She led a shaking Ian to the reception area and helped him take a seat.
“Where’s Donna?” she asked.
He looked away as though he hadn’t heard the question.
“The other agent, Ian. I need to know about Donna. If she’s on her way to the office, call and tell her not to come. The detective doesn’t want anyone else at the scene of the crime.”
Ian ran his hands through his hair and sat up straighter. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
He stared at his phone without dialing. Pain was stamped on the face he turned toward Lea.
“I don’t know what to say.” A sob gurgled in his chest. “They were friends.”
Lea’s mind raced, grasping for an answer. She saw a utilities van parked on the street.
“Tell her the electricity is off. A repair truck is here, but they haven’t located the problem. You’ll let her know when power is restored.”
While Ian spoke with his agent, Lea went to the car to settle the dogs and give them water.
She stroked Gracie’s head.
You were right to be upset. You sensed something was wrong, didn’t you? It’s not the only time you’ve alerted me of dangerous situations.
Lea went back inside. The room was empty.
She found Ian standing over Sandra’s dead body.
“I couldn’t believe it was true. Seeing her with my own eyes makes it real.”
Lea joined him, staring silently at the pool of blood surrounding the head of the lifeless form.
He leaned against his desk, clearly shaken. “This was no accident. There are no signs of a fall or a heart attack.”
“I’m afraid not.” Her words felt heavy. “This was murder.”
For the second time, Ian’s anguished eyes sought answers. “What about Henry? Should I call her husband?”
He collapsed onto a chair, out of view of the body. “I don’t think I can.”
“It’s not yours to do, Ian. The police will notify next of kin. You can help by providing his number.”
He picked up his phone, tapped it, and held up the screen.
Lea pulled a post-it from a pad to write down the number, surprised to see it listed under Favorites.
“The detectives will want names and numbers of clients,” she told him. “Or anyone Sandra had contact with.”
“I’ll ask Donna to put a list together.”
Being assigned a routine task seemed to restore some of his equilibrium, but the next moment his eyes drifted toward the ceiling.
“Who could have done this?” he moaned.
Ian’s reaction appeared to be sincere. However, as the daughter of a former police chief, Lea understood murderers were adept at diverting attention from themselves.
As th
e victim’s employer, he had to be considered a suspect.
She tried to move their focus from the body beside them. “How long has Sandra worked for you?”
Ian rubbed his hands together. “She’s been with me since I started my own agency. I stole her from the company where I previously worked. She was secretary to several agents at that firm, myself included.
“She was so organized and efficient, I couldn't imagine opening my own shop without her. Fortunately, she knew my work habits so she wasn’t worried about my making it on my own.”
He smiled, more to himself than to Lea. “During that first year, she was more confident of my success than I was.”
“Is the insurance field competitive?”
“As competitive as any kind of sales. There are multitudes of insurance products available, and a lot of salespeople keen to sell those products. The key is earning people’s trust, making them feel confident that you serve their best interests.”
Ian’s livelihood depends on being trustworthy. Could he be capable of murder? Lea wondered. Still, a murderer is often someone a victim trusts.
She asked a question she knew Tom would ask when he arrived.
“Can you think of anyone with a reason for killing Sandra? An angry spouse or family member?”
“You can’t seriously be suggesting Henry had anything to do with this. The man adored her. But then he did…” He looked away.
“He did what?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head as if clearing his thoughts. “Like I said, Henry loved Sandra.”
Lea pressed on. “What about a disgruntled customer?”
Ian seemed more comfortable with that question. “We don’t have many of those. As a small agency, I pride myself on providing a level of personal service not afforded by conglomerates.
“On occasion, a person whose claim isn’t paid becomes upset. Hopefully, I’ve been able to explain the reason sufficiently to avoid hard feelings. The settlement of claims is determined by the insurer, not the agent who sold the policy. Most of our clients understand that.”
His statement sounded rehearsed and somewhat insincere.
“Have there been instances when clients weren’t satisfied?” she asked.
“There was one rather large claim a few months ago which got denied…”
At that moment, a police car pulled up in front of the building, followed by the coroner’s vehicle.
The last to arrive was an unmarked car familiar to Lea.
“C’mon, Ian. I’ll introduce you to Detective Elliot,” she said. “He’ll have some questions. Then, hopefully, we can both get out of here.”
• • •
Tom was Paul’s closest friend and in a relationship with her sister. Still, Lea expected him to be all business at a crime scene.
He didn't disappoint.
His chiseled physique and blond, good looks were enough to draw attention, but it was his commanding demeanor which left no doubt about who was in charge. With a mere nod as greeting to Lea, he asked for the location of the body. She pointed to Ian’s office.
Tom barked orders to the two uniformed officers, waved the medical examiner through, and conferred briefly with his junior detective before walking into the designated room.
Pat pulled out her notepad as she approached Lea and Ian. She snapped her pen.
“Fancy finding you at the scene of a crime, Lea. Is this getting to be a habit?”
“I hope not,” Lea answered meekly. She tried to avoid Ian’s look of curiosity.
“The lieutenant will want to ask a few questions. After that, you both can leave. Come to the station tomorrow to make a statement.”
Lea knew the routine by heart. She checked to see if Ian understood.
“That’s fine, but I’d like to inform my wife,” he said. “She’ll be as shocked as I am. She knows how lucky I’ve been to have Sandra. I can’t imagine what I’ll do without her.”
“You can call your wife after we’re finished, sir,” Pat told him. She took down basic information, sketching a time line on her pad.
Tom joined them. Although his eyes reflected sadness, his jaw was clenched in anger. The detective once admitted he never got used to the sight of a lifeless body. Or humankind’s capacity to kill.
“Please take a seat. I understand how upsetting this has been,” Tom said. He displayed an empathy lacking in other policemen hardened by years of seeing too much.
Lea and Ian did his bidding quickly, relieved not to be ordered into the room with the body.
“We’ll want an official account first thing in the morning.” The lieutenant's way of expressing himself left no room for options.
He proceeded through his questions as Pat scribbled notes.
At the conclusion, Ian rushed out without returning to his office. His briefcase remained on the floor in the spot where he abandoned it earlier.
Lea looked at Tom reluctantly, anticipating his next words.
For the first time since he’d arrived, his face softened. A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
“I assume you’ll tell Paul.”
“He’s going to be unhappy when he hears,” she replied.
“No question about that. What did your husband say last time you were involved in a murder?”
She avoided his eyes by reaching for her keys.
“Something about keeping you and your sister away from crime is like keeping ducks from water.”
“You shouldn’t pay attention to Paul,” she mumbled.
“He has a right to worry.”
“He worries too much where I’m concerned.”
“I’ll let him know you said that.”
“That’s not necessary.”
He grabbed her arm as she pushed the door. “As it shouldn’t be necessary to tell you. Or, do I need to spell it out?”
“Tell me what?” She flashed the smile she used to charm Paul. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He removed his hand, but his face remained rigid.
“Don’t consider for one moment you or Maddy poking your nose into this. Are we clear?”
“I was the one who found Sandra, remember?”
“Finding a body isn’t a reason to get involved.”
She saw the dogs anxiously watching the activity, their noses pressed against the back window.
“That wasn’t your attitude when Gracie and Spirit discovered a dead man under the pier. You were grateful for our help.”
“I was glad for the dogs’ help. You nearly got your sister killed.”
“You can’t blame that on me. Maddy almost got herself killed. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go tend to the dogs and call Paul.”
She raised her chin and marched out of the office.
In the car, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Tom is intimidating with his cop face on.
She picked up her phone with no intention of calling Paul and ruining his day.
“Where are you?” the voice demanded. “I’ve been through two muffins and eight hundred calories waiting for you.”
“I’m on my way, Sis.”
Lea gulped, breathless from the turn of events.
“You won’t believe my reason for being late!”
Chapter Three
The woman sitting on the patio at Starbucks had long brown hair with blond highlights. Her bronzed complexion was accented by hazel eyes and pencil-thin eyebrows.
She glanced at her watch. There wasn’t much time remaining on her break from the furniture store where she worked as a sales associate and interior design consultant.
“What kept you?” Maddy demanded when Lea finally arrived. “I have to leave soon.”
Lea slid into a seat beside her.
Most people wouldn’t suspect the women of being sisters. Their looks were as different as their personalities.
Maddy pushed a cup across the table. “I ordered your usual. It’s cold by now.”
“It d
oesn’t matter,” Lea said, rubbing her neck and twisting her head from side to side. “The last thing I need is caffeine. I’m wound up enough.”
Maddy listened closely, eyes wide with excitement, as her sister described her experience at the insurance office. At the conclusion of the story, she grinned.
“I wish I could have seen Tom’s face when he got your call.”
Lea laughed. For the first time that morning, she relaxed.
“What did Paul say when he heard?” Maddy asked.
The muscles on Lea’s neck tightened again. She avoided her sister's eyes. “I haven’t told him.”
Maddy sympathized with Lea's situation. Paul had suggested more than once his wife was a magnet for trouble.
“I don’t blame you for putting it off but you’ll have to tell him sooner or later.”
Lea tucked a strand of long red hair behind her ear.
“Surely, he won’t think I could have avoided being involved!”
“Most people would have been lucky enough to walk out without seeing the body.” Maddy couldn’t resist teasing her younger sister. “Or, they wouldn’t have been snooping in the first place.”
Lea’s eyes flashed angrily. “You sound like Tom. I wasn’t snooping. I was looking for Sandra.”
“Did he imply you were?”
“He wanted my reason for leaving the reception room to go to Ian’s office.”
Maddy’s brows arched. “I hope you had a good answer.”
“Gracie let me know something was wrong. I could see the dog was upset.”
Maddy rolled her eyes. “Here we go again with the notion you and that dog communicate.”
Lea tilted her chin defiantly. “Tom accepts Gracie’s instincts. She’s helped him before.”
“Her instincts are better than yours. She tries to keep you out of trouble. Despite her best efforts, you land smack dab in the middle of it.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not getting involved this time. After I give the police my statement, I can put this whole unpleasant incident behind me.”
“I’m happy to hear that. I’m sure Paul and Tom will be even happier.”
Maddy stood and put on her sunglasses. “I have to go. Have fun on the hot seat with Tom tomorrow.”
She expected a reply, but her sister was staring at a scrap of paper pulled from her pocket.
“I’m leaving,” Maddy repeated, leaning over the table to get Lea’s attention.
