Murder and Mega Millions: A High Desert Cozy Mystery

by Dianne Harman

  When Carl had rung up the sale for the last customer and the shop was quiet, he walked over to Marty and gave her a big hug. “It’s been way too long, but I always get concerned when you come in. Usually it means someone has died, or worse yet, been murdered. I hope that’s not the case this time.”

  “No, Carl, for once I came in just to see what you have. I’m doing a large appraisal beginning Wednesday for a woman who specializes in California art and antiques, as well as collecting some Indian artifacts.”

  “Glad to hear it, and I’m guessing that you’re going to do Melissa Ross’ collection? Would I be right?” he asked, grinning at her.

  Marty looked at him in disbelief. “How would you possibly know that? I just had lunch with her to get to know her and find out about her antiques.”

  “Marty, darling, there is very little that goes on in this town pertaining to the rich and famous that I don’t know about. Just from your description of her collection, I knew it had to be her. She’s a doll, really one of my favorite customers, and her collection is to die for.”

  “That good, huh?” Marty asked. “And since you’ve sold a lot of it to her, you should know, right?”

  “Let’s put it this way, sweetheart. You didn’t hear it from me but Rhonda Taylor wishes Melissa Ross had never won that Mega Millions jackpot. Rhonda hates her, and I mean really hates her, because Melissa’s collection is better than hers, and Melissa outbids her most of the time. I hear Rhonda’s rich doctor husband has a little female entertainment on the side he’s paying for in the form of a very, very expensive condominium, a Bentley, and some pretty important jewelry. Hear he’s put Rhonda on an art and antique spending diet, and it’s really eating at her because she can’t compete with Melissa.”

  “Carl, how do you hear things like that?”

  “Well, darling, Rhonda comes in here all the time to see if I have anything new, so she can get it before Melissa does. You know how my customers like to talk to me, and it just seems like one thing leads to another. Rhonda knows about hubby’s little extracurricular hobby and she looks like she’s about ready to kill him, his hobby, and Melissa. I mean if looks could kill, she’d be the poster child. I guess that auction in Los Angeles last week put her over the edge. Melissa got the prize of the night, a pristine A+ Granville Redmond painting that Rhonda was sure she could pick up on the cheap, because it was a late addition to the auction.”

  “Come on, Carl.” Marty lowered her voice, even though there was no one else in the shop. “I hardly think what you just told me came from Rhonda.”

  “You’d be surprised at both the things people tell me and who tells it to me. One more tidbit for you regarding Melissa Ross. From what I hear she’s also made a mortal enemy of Tammy Crawford. I was down with the flu Saturday night, so I couldn’t attend the Charity for Children gala, but I guess that big donation Melissa made really put Tammy over the edge. I heard you were sitting next to her at the head table with that handsome detective husband of yours. What did you think?”

  “I think the FBI and CIA probably both have you on their “A” list of people to get in touch with if they ever need information about someone. Yes, I was sitting next to her, and she seemed very upset, but several minutes later I noticed she went over to the table where Melissa was sitting and the two women embraced.”

  “Oh,” he said dismissively. “That’s just for show. Melissa better watch her step, because she’s treading on the toes of two women who have made it their goal in life to be number one in their field. One in art and antiques, and the other in philanthropy. If I were her, like I said, I’d be watching my backside.”

  “Carl, I think you’re being a little melodramatic.” Marty picked up a piece of California pottery, inwardly wincing when she saw the steep price tag. She carefully set it down again, not wanting to buy it because she’d broken it. “Rhonda and Tammy might be jealous of Melissa, but I’d be surprised if either of them ever decided to do anything about it. After all, they both are way too high-profile.”

  “Darling, your Midwest naivete never fails to amaze me, but I guess that’s part of your charm.”

  “Thank you, I guess. Anyway, if you have a few minutes why don’t you enlighten me about the prices paid for some of the things I’m going to be seeing at Melissa’s home.”

  “I’ll get my ledger. That will save you some time. By the way, I don’t know how extensive your appraisal is going to be, but I’d be happy to help with the jewelry. I know that’s not your specialty. Back in a minute,” he said as he opened the door to his office.

  When he returned with his ledger book, he put pencil marks next to the items Melissa had bought from him, saving Marty hours in research time, as well as saving her client hundreds of dollars.

  An hour and a half later, she closed the ledger and put her notebook and pen in her purse. “Carl, thank you so much. This has been a huge help. Tomorrow I can go through some auction records to see what the comparables are on similar items. You’ve really saved me hours of research, and I promise, if any jewelry is involved, I know who to ask to appraise it.”

  CHAPTER 10

  “Today’s the day you start that big appraisal, right?” Jeff asked as he picked up his holster and secured it to his shoulder. “Last night you told us at dinner that Carl had been a huge help.”

  “He sure was. Saved me hours in research.” Marty bent down to open the dishwasher, putting the breakfast dishes inside it. “I actually feel pretty good about this. Dick, Laura’s boss at the insurance company, wanted Laura to go with me, so she could see the art and antiques. She’s going to leave after we do a walk-through. Melissa was fine with it. I had a message from her yesterday that she had something she had to attend, so I’m going to meet her maid, Isabella, at the bottom of the driveway, and she’ll let me into the house. Melissa told me at lunch that Isabella knows where everything is. I should be home around 5:30 or so, and you?” She closed the dishwasher and washed her hands.

  “Same old, same old. I’m working on a couple of cold cases. The chief has us do that when things are a little slow.”

  “By a little slow, you mean when no murders have happened? Guess that must be an inside joke or something. Somehow having things be a little slow and investigating murders don’t seem like the two should go together,” Marty said as she approached him and lightly kissed his cheek.

  “You’re right. Don’t think the victim’s relatives would like that particular way of phrasing it. I’ll be a little more careful from now on,” he said grinning.

  “Think that would be wise, Detective,” she said as she opened the door and walked out. As soon as she was in the courtyard, Patron ran up to her, barking and turning in circles. She stopped and said, “Hey, little guy, what’s the problem?”

  Just then Jeff followed her out of the house and started walking towards where his car was parked. “I’ve got to go, Marty,” Jeff said. “See if you can calm him down. If he keeps barking it’s bound to affect Les’ work on his latest painting, and I don’t think our buddy Les will be very happy about it. See you tonight.”

  “Morning, Sis,” Laura said, walking out of her house to meet Marty. “Is that Patron I hear?”

  “Yes, he’s really agitated, and I have no idea why.”

  “It’s kind of like what he was doing the other night,” Laura said. “I don’t understand what’s up with him, but I’m sure Les won’t be happy with it. He does his best work when all of us are gone, but if Patron continues to bark, that’s not going to please him. Let me see if I can calm this little fella down.”

  Laura sat down beside the young dog and whispered to him. Marty stood a few feet away from them, and within minutes, she noticed that Patron had become calm and he’d stopped barking. Laura continued to quietly talk to him.

  I wonder if she’s doing some psychic mumbo-jumbo, Marty thought, but whatever she’s doing, it seems to be working.

  “Okay, Marty, I think he’s quieted down enough that we can leave for
Melissa’s. I’ll follow you in my car.”

  They walked over to the gate, Patron following behind. When Marty pulled out of the driveway, she looked over and saw Patron watching her, his nose at the gate, taking Duke’s place, who was now behind Patron. Marty didn’t know what had transpired, but some type of communication had definitely passed between Laura and Patron and then between Patron and Duke. Whatever it was, she wasn’t in on it.

  *****

  Marty followed the directions Melissa had given her and turned onto a tree-lined avenue that led to several homes which backed up to the nearby mountains. The mid-20th century homes blended into the mountains they nestled against. The lots and the homes were huge, and in keeping with the desert, all had been landscaped with drought-tolerant plants.

  When they had lunch, Melissa had told Marty and Laura that the residents of that part of Palm Springs had bought there because of the way the architects had blended the homes into the mountain terrain and had decided not to have fences or guard gates. They felt it would destroy the sense of being one with nature, which was one of the reasons they’d chosen to buy in that area, rather than in the newer gate-guarded communities. Melissa had laughed and said her attorney had hounded her to get a gun and go to the shooting range if she was going to live there because, even though the Palm Springs police regularly patrolled the area, simply by looking at the homes, it was apparent people of means lived there.

  Melissa had told her that in keeping with the original architecture, she had chosen to keep the turquoise front door, a feature of many of the homes built during that timeframe in the desert. Marty easily found the house and as she approached, she saw a woman who she assumed was Isabella, waiting for her at the end of a long driveway. She motioned for the woman to get in the car.

  “Hi, I’m Marty. You must be Isabella. Melissa left a message for me that you would be waiting for me. My sister is in the car behind us. Is it okay if we park in the driveway? She’s just going to be here for a few minutes.”

  “Si,” Isabella said softly.

  Marty looked over at her and noticed that she was wringing her hands together, as if she was worried or distressed.

  What do I know? She’s Melissa’s maid, not mine, and everyone’s different. Maybe she’s having some problems at home.

  Marty parked her car in the driveway. Laura parked behind Marty’s car and Marty introduced her to Isabella as they walked up to the front door. Isabella took a keychain with several keys on it from her purse and opened the front door which led to a tiled entryway.

  “Please, go ahead,” Isabella said. “I will show you Miss Ross’ art and antiques. You can put your purses here in the hallway on this bench. We can begin in the living room.”

  Laura looked over at Marty and raised her eyebrows as if to say, “Why is her voice quivering?” They set their purses down, and Marty took what she’d need for her appraisal out of a large brown leather tote, which included her tape recorder, a tape measure, a notebook, and her camera. She wore a magnifying loupe around her neck. She often thought she hadn’t come out of her first marriage with much, but she did love the magnifying glass which was surrounded by diamonds and gold filigree suspended on a heavy gold chain. It was something her former husband had given her when she’d become a certified antique appraiser.

  “Okay, I’m ready,” Marty said, as she followed Isabella towards what she assumed was the living room. The doors were closed and Isabella opened them, then stepped back, as if in deference, letting Marty and Laura enter the room first.

  They took one step into the room and stopped, staring in open-mouthed shock at the body of Melissa Ross sprawled on the floor. Melissa’s eyes were lifeless, and it was apparent that not only would she not be buying any antiques in the future, neither would she be attending any charitable events.

  “What is it?” Isabella asked in a shaky voice. She walked around them and screamed. “Madre de Dios!” She crossed herself with her right hand. “She’s dead, I know she’s dead.”

  Marty bent down and put her fingers on both sides of Melissa’s neck. There was no pulse. She stood up and walked back to where she’d put her purse. With her hands shaking, she held her cell phone and pressed in Jeff’s number. A moment later she heard his voice in her ear. “Marty, I thought you were doing that appraisal this morning. Is everything okay?”

  In a trembling voice that matched Isabella’s of just moments earlier, she said, “Jeff, Melissa’s dead.” She told him how they’d discovered Melissa lying on the floor in the living room right after they arrived.

  She was relieved when Jeff took control. “Tell Laura and the maid not to touch a thing. We’ll be there within five minutes.”

  Isabella continued to sob loudly, interspersed with words of Spanish. Laura and Marty tried to console her, without much success. Marty noticed that Laura had become pale and wondered if she was having another “visitation.” That was the only word Marty could think of to describe what she’d witnessed at the restaurant the day before yesterday. It seemed to happen whenever Laura was in Melissa’s presence. Within minutes Jeff and other first responders filled the room.

  Jeff put his arms around Marty. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, I’m fine,” she answered, resting her head on his chest before looking back up at him. “What do you think happened? Maybe she had a heart attack, but she seems way too young for that to happen.”

  “I have no idea. I’m going to have one of my men take a statement from each of you. While you’re doing that, I’ll see what I can find out.”

  Marty pulled away just as Jeff started barking orders to his team. A policewoman efficiently started to put yellow crime scene tape around the house as the various police experts began to search the rooms for clues. The crime scene became a hub of activity as photos were taken, people spoke into recorders and the coroner’s team secured the body for the trip to the county morgue.

  “Jeff, I’ve given my statement to your detective. I have a meeting at 10:00 with Dick and some important new clients. Would it be okay if I leave now?” Laura asked her brother-in-law.

  “Yes. There’s nothing more for you to do here.” He looked closely at her. “Laura, you’re really pale. Do you feel up to driving? If not, I can have one of my men take you to your office.”

  Laura shook her head and mustered an unsteady smile. “No, I’m all right. I’ll tell you all about it tonight. Jeff, she was murdered. Start there.” With that, Laura walked down the hall, retrieved her purse, and left the house.

  Jeff walked over to where Marty was still trying to console Isabella. “Marty, may I see you for a moment?” She followed him down the hall. “Do you know what’s up with Laura? She was absolutely white and shaking. I offered to have one of my men drive her to her office, but she said she was okay, and she’d tell me all about it tonight. She also said that Melissa was murdered and to start there. I did notice what looked like a puncture wound on her arm, but there’s nothing else I can see that would suggest she was murdered. Maybe Laura saw it too, and that’s what she was talking about.”

  “I have an idea, but it can wait until I see you later,” Marty said. “I don’t think I should try to appraise anything until this is no longer an active crime scene. Of course, Laura will tell Dick when she gets to the office, but I need to find out what he wants me to do now. Maybe he has the name of her lawyer, and we can find something out there. I told Isabella I’d take her home, since she rides the bus to work. Is it okay if the two of us leave now?”

  “Yes. There’s nothing more you can do here. I’ll see you tonight.”

  *****

  “I can certainly understand why you’re upset, Isabella,” Marty said as she pulled her car up at the address of the apartment Isabella had given her. It was in a part of Palm Springs that wasn’t on the tourist maps. It looked like every other run-down type of neighborhood that’s seen in urban areas of the United States. Abandoned cars, appliances, and mattresses filled the vacant lot next to th
e building that was clearly in need of some tender loving care.

  Dirt scattered with litter had replaced the grass that had once grown in the front yard which was split in half by a cracked and broken sidewalk. The front door to the building was covered with graffiti as was the lower part of the building. It was obvious the only residents who inhabited the building were too poor to go anywhere else.

  “My husband is the chief detective who came to the house,” Marty said. “He’ll probably know something tomorrow about whether or not you should go back to work there. I don’t know if Miss Ross had any relatives, but if not, I imagine the house will be sold and whoever is the executor of her estate may want you to stay until it’s sold. Why don’t you call Jeff tomorrow? Here’s his card. Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Gracias,” Isabella said, wiping tears from her eyes. “You are very kind. I will call him tomorrow. I don’t know what to do now. If someone wants me to stay on for a while, I will have to get my keys back. The police took them.”

  “I’m sure that can be arranged. I’ll let Jeff know.”

  CHAPTER 11

  The compound was quiet when Marty returned home. The only visible activity was two sets of tails wagging at the front gate, eagerly anticipating her return. She let the dogs out and smiled, thinking how the two dogs had nothing more to do or think about than chasing one another in the desert or finding some type of critter, perhaps a lizard, moving on the hot desert floor. She walked a short distance into the desert with them as they scampered about.

  “Okay, guys, time to go back,” Marty said. “Since I have a little free time I’m going to use it to good advantage and finish reading the appraisal that June sent me. I want to make sure she was able to transcribe my descriptions, because the television was blaring the whole time I was appraising, making me lose my train of thought on several occasions.”