The police chief, Seth Williams, and his deputy, Elroy, were sitting near the front of the church with the mayor, Dave Nelson. No surprise there. I’m sure they want everyone to notice they attended the funeral. Seeing Dave Nelson brought back all the memories of when his wife was murdered at the spa, and Liz had to do what she could to solve the case because the police chief was so inept. Although Liz had only lived in Red Cedar for a little over three years, she at least knew most of the people who were attending the funeral. Gertie from Gertie’s Diner and her staff were there, sitting next to Cindy Lou, who owned the Red Cedar beauty salon. Nate Ackler, the owner of the candle shop, was sitting next to a large young man who bore a strong resemblance to him. A young woman sat next to him along with several other young men who looked like they might be football players. There was one huge teenager sitting in the row of the young men. One of the boys seemed to be much younger than the others. He wore thick rimless glasses, a shirt that was buttoned to the top, and his blond hair was swept up over his forehead in a pompadour style that had been out of style for many years.
Seated in the row in front of them Liz recognized a Chinese couple who had stayed at the spa for several days. They had been to several of the family style dinners, and she’d enjoyed talking to them. Evidently the wife was a spa junkie. She had scheduled two and three treatments every day. The man went by the nickname of Clamhammer because of his love of clams. His wife had mentioned he was one of the most important men in San Francisco’s Chinatown, and he had many employees that worked for him in his export-import business. She had told Liz that he had suggested they come to the spa because he had some business in town. Liz remembered wondering at the time what possible business he could have in a town as small as Red Cedar. It seems odd they would attend Mark’s funeral. I wonder why they’re here.
Liz noticed that Darcy and the man seated next to her were engaged in a quiet, yet animated, conversation. The man had an extremely distressed look of concern on his face. Their body language was tense, and their voices were strained. Curious, Liz leaned forward as if she was getting something out of her purse so she could get closer and overhear their conversation. She heard Darcy say, “Rick, even if the school computer was hacked, and the grades were changed, I don’t care, because as principal I’m more concerned about the recognition the school will receive having its star quarterback get a full athletic scholarship to Stanford. That outweighs anything else. As vice-principal, I’d think you would feel the same. Anyway, even if it did happen, graduation is too close for us to investigate it now.”
He answered back by saying, “Darcy, you can’t possibly mean that. If the computer was hacked and grades were changed, we can’t let something like that slide by. It would set a dangerous precedent for others to do the same.
“Anyway, I’m almost positive the grades were changed. Sybil was working on the computer this morning and looked at the grades that had been posted for Brent Ackler. After a few minutes, she came to my office and asked to speak with me privately. Turns out she and Brent’s father, Nate Ackler, have been seeing each other for a long time. She told me she checked now and then to see how Brent’s grades were doing because she was afraid he might not qualify scholastically for the Stanford scholarship. Sure enough, the last time she checked she realized he wasn’t going to qualify for the scholarship, and she was worried about how Nate was going to take it. Nate’s wife left him when Brent was a young child while Nate was working on the docks in San Francisco. He’s a single parent who’s raised Brent by himself.
“He’s very proud of Brent and told Sybil that Brent would be the first Ackler to ever go to college. So this morning, when Sybil checked Brent’s grades, she was amazed to see that his grade point average had somehow miraculously gone up and was now over the 3.0 GPA required by those going to Stanford on an athletic scholarship. She concluded that some person or persons must have hacked into the school computer and changed Brent’s grades. She promptly reported her discovery to me and I, in turn, reported the situation to you. Frankly, Darcy, I think Sybil is right in thinking that the school computer has been hacked. How else could Brent’s grades have been changed?”
“Rick, I’m the principal, and I don’t want you to say anything about this to anyone. For all intents and purposes, Brent Ackler will be going to Stanford in the fall on a full scholarship, and everyone will know that he came from Red Cedar High School.”
“I really don’t like this, Darcy, and I want to get to the bottom of it. I’d also like to know who did it and when it was done.”
“Shh. The minister is starting to speak. We can talk about this later,” Darcy said.
What is that all about? Liz thought. A kid who didn’t have the grades to meet Stanford’s academic requirements last week suddenly has them now. If his grades were changed, like the assistant principal said, I wonder who did it. Well, it doesn’t have anything to do with me. I’ve got enough going on. Glad I don’t have to deal with this little brouhaha.
The funeral was long with a number of Mark’s friends and teachers standing before those attending the funeral and speaking about him. Throughout the funeral the sound of people quietly crying was heard, mourning the loss of a young man who died much too young. The subject of suicide was mentioned by several people who said they couldn’t believe Mark would have taken his life because he had such a positive attitude. His father sat stony-faced, holding the hand of his wife who wore a shapeless black dress. Tears flowed freely down her face and the face of Mark’s girlfriend, Emily. Liz thought she looked worse today than she had yesterday, if that was possible. Liz still couldn’t believe Mark was dead. Like most of those in the church, she was one of the people who couldn’t keep the tears from flowing. It didn’t help that she was the last person who had seen Mark alive.
There was a collective gasp in the church when Emily rose from her seat in the first row and walked up the steps to the podium. Although tears were streaming down her cheeks her voice was firm. She spoke about the long relationship she and Mark had enjoyed and what a wonderful person he was. She talked about how Mark had come over once a week to mow the lawn at her home, because her father had a back injury that made it difficult for him to do it. No one had asked Mark to do it. He simply did it on his own. She ended her talk by saying, “Mark Scott would never take his own life. I know there are rumors that he did, but I knew him better than anyone else, and I know he would never end his life. No matter what it takes, I intend to find out what happened. In the name of Mark’s memory, I ask each of you to look up to the heavens above and make a promise to Mark that you will help me. I know he’s looking down at us from heaven. Please, promise him you will help me find out what happened.”
Hundreds of eyes looked toward heaven, and the church fell eerily silent. After a few moments, the minister asked those gathered to join him in singing Amazing Grace. When it had ended, the attendees solemnly filed out of the church. Usually when there was a death in Red Cedar the residents would go to the family’s home following the funeral to relay their personal condolences, but not today. Mark’s parents were too grief stricken and had specifically requested that no one come to the home after the service. Everyone respected their wishes.
CHAPTER 7
Liz returned to the spa from Mark’s funeral with a heavy heart. I can’t remember when I’ve ever felt this sad. I just can’t figure out why Mark would commit suicide, she thought, as she busied herself in the kitchen doing the preparation work for the guests’ evening meal. I agree with Emily. He had such a wonderful, happy, outgoing type of personality, it just doesn’t make any sense. If he did do it, I suppose we’ll never know what drove him to make such a terrible decision. What a waste! While she was thinking about Mark, she looked out the kitchen window and saw a black and white California Highway Patrol car pull up in front of the lodge and stop. Wonder why they’re here. I better go out and see what’s going on.
Two uniformed officers got out of the patrol car and started to w
alk up the steps to the front porch of the lodge just as Liz walked out the front door accompanied by Winston.
“May I help you?” Liz asked the burly officer who wore a small name badge that said “T. Ganz.” His salt and pepper hair was cut short, and he had a bushy mustache covering his upper lip. The skin around his eyes was heavily lined, and she imagined in his line of work he’d seen more than his share of tragedies.
“Yes, ma’am. Beautiful dog you’ve got there. I’m partial to the breed even though I don’t have one at the moment, but it’s on my bucket list. Anyway, I’m Officer Ganz, and this is my partner, Officer Stuart. We’re accident investigation officers assigned to the CHP district office over in Santa Rosa. We’re investigating the cause of a fatal accident that occurred day before yesterday on the state highway that leads into town. Chief Williams from the Red Cedar Police Department told us the young man who died in the accident, Mark Scott, worked here at the Red Cedar Spa. We have a few questions we’d like to ask the owner.”
“I’m Liz Lucas, the owner of Red Cedar Spa. I’d be happy to answer any questions you might have. What specifically were you interested in concerning poor Mark?”
“Based on what the chief told us, apparently Mark left from work here at the spa at 4:00 on the date of the accident. Is that right?”
“Yes, I was working with him all afternoon in the kitchen in the lodge, and he left at his usual quitting time of 4:00,” Liz answered.
“Well, it looks like he must have driven directly from here to where the accident occurred, because the clock on the dashboard of his car stopped working as a result of the crash, and the time on the clock showed 4:06,” Officer Ganz said.
“Mrs. Lucas, do you know where Mark parked his car when he came to work on the day of the accident?” Officer Stuart asked.
“Yes, we have an employee parking lot located behind the spa, and all of the employees are required to park there. I have fifteen employees working here at the spa, and each one of them has an assigned parking space in that lot. Each space has a small sign in front of it with the employee’s first name printed on it. Since Mark was my newest employee, well actually he wasn’t even an employee because he was working for me as an unpaid volunteer intern, anyway, his parking space was at the far end of the lot, the one farthest from the lodge and closest to the forest.”
“If you don’t mind, could we take a look at the parking space that was assigned to Mark?” Officer Stuart asked.
“Sure, follow me, it’s right behind the spa. It will only take a minute or two for us to walk over there.” Brandy Boy, who was sleeping in his customary place on the porch, opened one eye, looked at the two officers, and promptly went back to sleep.
Winston and the three of them walked to the nearby employee parking lot and stopped at the far end in front of a parking space that had a small printed sign that read “Mark.” As Liz stood by and watched, the two officers focused their attention on a large fresh oily type of substance puddled on the ground.
“I suppose you don’t get out to this part of the parking lot very often, Mrs. Lucas, but do you have any idea how this oily looking substance might have gotten here?” Officer Ganz asked as he bent down and ran his fingers through the puddle.
“I have no idea,” Liz said. “Mark drove an older model car, so I suppose his car could have had an oil leak.”
“No, I don’t think that’s the case with this spill for two reasons,” Officer Ganz said. “First of all, the spill is located towards the right rear of where his car would have been parked. It’s not in the area of the parking stall where you would expect to see a leak from a car’s engine. That kind of a leak would be below the engine compartment, towards the front and center area of the parking space, and the second reason is I don’t think this is the type of oil you would typically see from an engine leak. I’m quite certain this substance is brake fluid, not oil from an engine leak. The two types of fluids are entirely different in texture, color, and appearance,” he said as he worked the oily substance he’d picked up from the ground between his thumb and forefinger.
“I’ll have to put some of this oily substance in an evidence bag and send it to our lab for testing, but I’ve done enough of these investigations over the twenty-five years I’ve been with the CHP to absolutely guarantee you this is brake fluid and not engine oil. I need to go back to our patrol car to get my evidence kit, and I also want to take photos and measurements of the spill.”
“I don’t understand what this means, officer,” Liz said.
“I can’t tell you officially until our accident reconstruction report is released tomorrow, but since you have a pretty solid interest in knowing what happened to Mark, and because it looks like the authorities are going to need your cooperation, here’s what we’ve found out about Mark’s car,” Officer Ganz said.
“The car was towed to our impound lot in Santa Rosa, and Officer Stuart and I went over it with a fine tooth comb. We immediately discovered something that was very disturbing. There was clear evidence that the brake line near the right rear wheel had been deliberately severed. We found metal scrape marks on the brake line indicating it was cut with wire cutter or some other type of sharp cutting device. This puddle of brake fluid we’re looking at here on the ground is solid evidence that the brake line was cut here at this location, probably while Mark was inside working with you in the kitchen. Once the brake line was cut, all the hydraulic brake fluid simply drained out of the car’s braking system and formed the puddle you see here on the ground. It looks like after Mark finished work and as he was driving back to town, he found himself driving down that steep grade in the highway with absolutely no functioning brakes on his car which caused him to crash through the guard rail at the bottom of the grade and go over the cliff.”
“The poor thing. What a horrible way to have your life end!”
“Mrs. Lucas, in my opinion we’re looking at a clear case of murder with respect to the death of Mark Scott,” Officer Ganz said.
“Oh no! You’ve got to be mistaken. Who in the world would have a motive to kill such a nice young man like him? I can’t believe this is happening,” Liz said in an anguished tone of voice as she quietly started to sob and attempted to brush away her tears that were flowing freely.
“Mrs. Lucas, I noticed there’s a trail leading off into the forest that starts right here next to the parking spot where Mark’s car was parked. Where does that trail start and stop?” Officer Stuart asked.
“It’s a very short trail, only about one hundred yards long. It starts next to the highway and ends here at the employee parking lot. I have a sign posted down by the highway that says, “Trail to Red Cedar Spa.” I put the sign there so guests at the spa who have taken a hike can find their way back. Do you think the trail might have something to do with Mark’s death?”
“Possibly. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out if you wanted to tamper with the brakes on Mark’s car, all you’d have to do is park down by the highway, make your way up the trail, cut the brake line, and be back in your parked car in a matter of only a couple of minutes. Your employee parking lot is out of view from the other areas in and around the lodge, and anyone who was intent on cutting the brake line on Mark’s car would almost for certain never be seen by any guests or employees. Pretty neat way to do it if I don’t say so myself,” Officer Stuart said.
Speaking in a voice of disbelief, Liz asked, “Well what’s going to happen now?”
“Here’s the way it works in cases like this one,” Officer Ganz said. “The CHP only investigates the actual cause of an accident. If our investigation indicates some type of foul play led to the commission of a crime, we turn the case over to the local law enforcement authorities to investigate and solve the crime. In this case it means there is going to be a murder investigation, and it will be conducted under the direction of Chief Seth Williams of the Red Cedar Police Department.”
“Oh no! Seth Williams! You’ve got to be kidding me. B
etween you and me, Seth Williams doesn’t have the brains to find his way home, much less solve a murder case. Believe me, I speak from experience,” Liz said in an exasperated tone of voice.
“Well, off the record, Mrs. Lucas, we’ve heard similar complaints over at the CHP office in Santa Rosa, but the law is very clear, the local police authorities have jurisdiction over the case and are the one’s charged with the responsibility of solving the case involving the murder of Mark Scott,” Officer Ganz said.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go back to my patrol car and get the evidence kit. Officer Stuart and I will probably be here for another hour, so if you think of anything that might help us with our investigation, please let us know. Otherwise, your next contact with law enforcement authorities will probably come from Chief Seth Williams.”
Heaven help us! Liz silently thought to herself.
CHAPTER 8
When Liz got back to the lodge, she felt sick to her stomach and horribly sad. She couldn’t think of any reason why someone would want to murder Mark.
I feel like I’m experiencing déja vu. Another murder involving the spa. Even though Mark didn’t die here, this was the last place he had been before he was murdered. This is like something out of a nightmare. I’ll get through dinner tonight, and then I’ll call Roger. Hopefully, he’ll have some advice for me. I can’t let that bumbling idiot Seth botch this up now that the spa is going to be involved. I better let Bertha know before she finds out from someone else tomorrow.
Murder and Brandy Boy: A Liz Lucas Cozy Mystery Series Book 2 Page 3
