MURDER & THE MONKEY BAND
By
Dianne Harman
(A High Desert Cozy Mystery Series - Book 1)
Copyright © 2015 Dianne Harman
www.dianneharman.com
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without written permission except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Website, Interior & Cover design by Vivek Rajan Vivek
Paperback ISBN: 978-1517381004
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As I write this I think what an adventure this last year has been and none of it would have happened without you, my loyal readers. I was drinking coffee in bed at a resort in Arizona when I jotted down a few ideas for a cozy mystery that had come to me in the middle of the night. When I returned home, I decided to write a book in that genre. That was the birth of Kelly’s Koffee Shop. People kept telling me they wanted to read more about Mike and Kelly, so I began writing more books and called it the Cedar Bay Cozy Mystery Series.
I was curious what would happen if I started a different series, and so I wrote Murder in Cottage #6, the first of the Liz Lucas Cozy Mystery Series. Several years ago I worked as an antique appraiser, and I decided to write a book with an antique appraiser as an amateur sleuth set in the community of High Desert, outside of Palm Springs. This book is the first in my new High Desert Cozy Mystery Series.
I’ve never had so much fun, and there are a few people I need to thank for making it possible. First of all you, my readers, for following me, reading my books, and even contacting me with suggestions. Secondly, my husband Tom, who makes it easy for me to write by taking care of all the things that need to be done around the house. And of course, my cover artist and formatter, Vivek Rajan. It’s interesting that I’ve never met him or talked to him, yet I consider him to be a friend. This is an Internet relationship, and I rather doubt we will ever meet, but I credit him for creating the fabulous book covers that make my work look good.
My family has been so supportive. I love it when I pick up my six year old granddaughter from school to take her to tap dance class and she regales me with a new Puppy Story (the name of the book she wants me to write). They always start out the same way: It was a long, long time ago in 1956. I have yet to figure out why she’s chosen that year!
Again, thank you all for making this time of my life so wonderful!
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Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
EPILOGUE
Recipes!
ABOUT DIANNE
CHAPTER 1
Marty Morgan stood in the courtyard of the walled-in housing compound and marveled once again at how lucky her sister had been to find this enchanting place to live in the remote California desert town of High Desert. The peace and tranquility of the desert was a soothing elixir for Marty considering what she’d been through during the past year. Becoming a permanent resident of the laid back community of High Desert, population 7,000, was just what she needed. It provided lots of time for her to relax and concentrate on restarting her career as an art and antique appraiser. While the town was small and only the most essential goods and services were available, the well-known cosmopolitan California desert golfing mecca of Palm Springs was only twenty miles away.
It had been an interesting year for Marty. When her sister Laura had called telling Marty she had a premonition that Marty and Scott were getting divorced, she was reminded once again that Laura had what some called a psychic gift. Even when they were kids Laura would tell Marty about things that were going to happen in the future, like the time she’d foreseen great-aunt Ruth’s death. It happened so often Marty took it for granted. It was only after they’d been apart for many years that she realized the enormity of Laura’s powerful psychic abilities.
Marty remembered when Laura had been a student at UCLA, and she was asked to take part in a paranormal study conducted by the psychology department. She’d been subjected to numerous tests, and when the testing was finished the psychology department determined Laura had a very high level of psychic abilities which simply couldn’t be explained. They told her she possessed what was commonly called a “sixth sense.”
During the telephone call with Laura, Marty confirmed what Laura already knew, that she and Scott were getting divorced. Laura insisted Marty move from her home in the Midwest to the little town of High Desert where Laura made her home. Laura told her one of the houses in the compound she owned was going to be available in two weeks, and she was sure she could get Marty some antique appraisal referrals through the insurance company where she worked. Marty didn’t need to think twice about the offer. She knew she could no longer live in the small Midwest town that had been her home for the past twenty-five years.
Marty was shocked and dismayed when Scott confessed to her he was having an affair with his secretary, and he wanted a divorce, so he could marry her. He’d given Marty a large monetary settlement and agreed to pay her monthly alimony. She knew it was guilt money, but she felt she deserved it for probably having been the laughingstock of the little town where they lived. Now she understood why so many conversations had come to an abrupt halt when she walked into a local shop. She knew they were talking about the affair and the pending divorce. The little town didn’t have many scandals, and Scott’s affair with his secretary had provided the residents with a lot of fodder. Marty was certain she was the only one in the town who hadn’t known about his infidelity.
She’d lived in the High Desert compound now for almost nine months. One of the residents, John Anderson, owned a fire engine red food truck called The Red Pony which he drove daily into Palm Springs. It had become a popular destination for office workers in downtown Palm Springs to go for lunch. John was an excellent chef, and the entrees he sold from the truck were delicious. When he returned to the compound each day in the late afternoon, the truck was almost always sold out of food. He eagerly sought out people who were willing to try his new dishes before he put them on The Red Pony menu, and Marty was always the first one to raise her hand when he asked for volunteers.
Max Samuels was John’s assistant cook and kitchen helper. Although he didn’t live in the compound, he joined the residents for dinner at the compound almost every night. John liked to have him there to help with the new dishes he planned to put on the food truck’s menu. When Max helped prepare the new dishes, it really cut down on the instructions John had to give him when they were filling customer’s orders. Max was what a lot of people would call a �
�redneck.” He’d lived in the small desert town all his life. There wasn’t much work available in town, and Max would never have made it working in the big city of Palm Springs. His country language and lack of social graces would have been major stumbling blocks for him in a city known for its sophisticated and wealthy residents. Being the assistant cook in a food truck was the perfect occupation for him.
Les Richardson was the fourth compound resident. He was Laura’s long-time boyfriend and an artist well-known to the gallery owners in Palm Springs. He far preferred the small town residents of High Desert to the “beautiful people” who came to Palm Springs to play golf and brag about their condominiums in the desert when they returned home, although he certainly wasn’t averse to them taking one of his paintings with them.
As Marty looked around the compound, her senses fully appreciated what someone had the foresight to build many years earlier. Four small two bedroom houses, built very close to each other, formed a square around a central courtyard. The compound was surrounded on all sides by a rock wall constructed from local volcanic rock.
A large tree that was located in the middle of the courtyard was covered with hundreds of twinkling lights. At night it provided a magical setting along with the lanterns which Laura lit every evening at dusk. Marty had grown to love the muted lights of Palm Springs in the distance and the mauve desert sunsets. A picnic table was situated in the compound, and most of the evening meals were eaten there. Another table was used by the four residents for newspapers, mail, and the food that John cooked, so he could serve it buffet style when he chose to. Even though each of the housing units consisted of separate free-standing house, there was a communal feel to the compound, and the four residents who lived there had grown to truly care for one another.
John’s home had been upgraded with a state-of-the-art kitchen, and Les had a large airy, light-filled room which he used as his art studio. When Marty had taken up residence in the compound, about the only things she’d brought with her besides her personal effects were reference books dealing with art and antiques. She’d made the second bedroom in her home into a library/office. She didn’t want any reminders of Scott, so she let him keep all the furniture and furnishings they’d accrued during their twenty-five year marriage.
With a smile on her face, Marty looked at the big black Lab she’d bought when she’d arrived in High Desert. She’d needed something that was just hers and Duke, the little Labrador puppy she’d fallen in love with at the animal shelter, had been perfect for her. They’d bonded from the first moment she’d looked into his big brown eyes. Everyone in the compound knew if they saw Duke, Marty had to be nearby. He never left her side, and when she was gone, his eyes never left the road he knew she would use when she returned. The other three residents of the compound were equally enchanted with the friendly lab, and all of them kept a bowl of dog treats handy for him when Marty was gone.
Marty couldn’t remember a time she hadn’t been interested in art. Her first grade teacher had been amazed at Marty’s art ability and had told her parents she loved art so much she could probably benefit from art lessons. Her mother had found an artist who was willing to work with the young girl, and for many years her parents had taken her twice a week for art lessons with the well-known artist. In high school it was always Marty who was in charge of anything art related, from the backdrops for school plays to the posters for the car washes.
Her friends and family assumed Marty would become an artist. She majored in art in college and then abruptly in her sophomore year she changed her major to art history. Everyone was shocked and asked her why. She always replied, “I just didn’t have the fire in my belly to make it as an artist, simple as that.” She went on to get a master’s degree in art history and took a job with an antique and fine art auction house in Los Angeles. When she and Scott got married and moved to the small Midwestern town, she decided to open an art and antique appraisal service and over a period of time developed a thriving business in that area of the state.
The insurance company Laura worked for, Alliance Property and Casualty Company, specialized in insuring personal property items such as art, antiques, jewelry, and other types of high value personal property items. True to her word, Laura’s insurance company had been able to refer business to her. Laura worked for a man named Dick Cosner, and one of his jobs was to determine which of their insureds needed to have their personal property items appraised. Many of Alliance’s insureds were very wealthy and had brought some of that wealth to the desert with them. They wanted their home in the desert to reflect their wealth and economic status, and many of the homes were filled with antiques and fine art. That was the main reason there were so many art and antique shops in Palm Springs. Dick had referred a lot of business to Marty since she’d come to the area, and she knew she was very fortunate to be able to have an in with an insurance company who needed her services.
Dick Cosner had called Marty earlier in the day and asked her to meet the following morning with the son of a woman who had been murdered the week before. The woman’s son, Jim Warren, had called Dick and told him he needed to have the contents of his mother’s house appraised for probate. He said he didn’t think her Will would be contested, but in case it was, he thought it would be wise to have everything appraised. He knew his mother had gotten an insurance appraisal several years earlier, and he wanted to get in touch with the person who had originally appraised the items. Dick told him that person had left the area, but he highly recommended an appraiser by the name of Marty Morgan, and that she’d been appraising for many years and was very knowledgeable about the values that needed to be established for estate purposes.
“Marty,” Dick had said when he called earlier that day, “I’d like you to meet with Jim Warren at this address tomorrow. His mother, Pam Jensen, died recently, actually she was murdered, and she was one of our insureds. I don’t know the specifics, but I seem to remember his mother mentioning there was bad blood between her children and her husband’s daughter. It was a second marriage for both of them, and evidently there was no amicable blending of the two families. Her husband, Brian Jensen, owned a well-known restaurant in Palm Springs that became so successful he opened a number of them throughout the world. I’m sure you’ve heard of them. It’s the Mai Tai Mama’s chain. Anyway, he died a few months ago. Brian was quite wealthy, and he and his wife had been married for almost twenty-five years. I took a look at the appraisal that was done a few years ago, and in addition to numerous antiques and fine art, she had one of the finest collections of 18th century Meissen china in the world. It should be an interesting appraisal. Let me know what you find out.”
“Will do, Dick, and thank you so much for the referral. Sounds like something I’d enjoy. I’ve appraised a number of Meissen pieces and to have a chance to appraise a top collection is a once-in-a-lifetime thing for an appraiser. By the way, would it be okay with you if Laura goes with me? To be honest, I’ve never done an appraisal when someone has been murdered, and I’m a little spooked by it. This is a first for me.”
“Sure, take your sister with you. I’ll give her some paid time off from her work here at Alliance while she’s helping you with the appraisal. You’ll do fine, but keep in mind the fact that the owner of the property you’re going to appraise was murdered isn’t relevant to the fair market value of the items. Remember that,” he said.
“Thanks. I will.”
CHAPTER 2
Jim Warren’s adult years had not been kind to him. It seemed no matter what kind of business or relationship he got into, the businesses failed, and the relationships sputtered and died, including two marriages, both of which ended in divorce. The only good thing that happened to him during those years was when his mother married Brian Jensen, the co-owner of the wildly popular world-wide restaurant chain known as Mai Tai Mama’s which he’d started in Palm Springs. His biological father had been an alcoholic who had walked out on the family, leaving his mother to work in the shoe
department in a high-end retail store to put a roof over their heads and food on the table. That’s where she’d met Brian Jensen.
He was nice enough to me. He even gave me money to fund a couple of my companies, but when the last one went belly up, he told me he’d never again give me so much as a penny, and he made mom promise she wouldn’t help me financially either. From time to time when mom saw how much I was struggling she’d give me some money, but she always made me promise I’d never tell Brian, and I never did.
Brian had passed away a few months earlier. Jim thought back to a recent conversation he’d had with his mother about Brian. She told him Brian had willed his entire estate to her and deliberately left his daughter, Amy, nothing. Pam told him she felt guilty about that and was going to revise her Will to include Amy. In her new Will, Jim and his sister, Marilyn, who was married to a wealthy private bank manager with J.P. Morgan, would get half of her estate, and Brian’s daughter, Amy, would get the other half. Pam said she felt sorry for Amy and even though she’d sided with her mother when Brian divorced her to marry Pam, she shouldn’t be punished. Pam said she didn’t feel right giving it all to her children, when Brian was the one who had made the money. She’d reminded Jim that she’d brought almost nothing into the marriage.
A bitter argument had ensued with Jim pointing out to his mother in the strongest words possible that if she changed her Will she would not be doing what Brian, her deceased husband, wanted. She countered by saying that sometimes it was more important to be fair than to blindly do what someone wanted done. When the argument ended, Jim left her home in a rage.
It’s bad enough that under her existing Will I’m going to have to split her estate with Marilyn, and I’m only going to get half of the estate. If she makes a new Will and Amy gets half, that reduces my share to one-fourth, and that’s simply unacceptable. I’ve got some great plans for a new business here in Palm Springs, but it’s going to take a lot of money, money that will now go to Amy if mom carries through with her plan and makes a new Will. I’ve got to do something to stop her from carrying out this foolish idea she has about trying to be fair to Amy.
Murder & The Monkey Band: High Desert Cozy Mystery Series Page 1
