Mission to Murder (A Tourist Trap Mystery)

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Mission to Murder (A Tourist Trap Mystery) Page 4

by Lynn Cahoon


  “Such a waste. I know you have a wild side. We’d be good together.” Ray stopped talking. “Looks like my payday is arriving. We’ll talk later.”

  “In your dreams.” I walked away from him, heading back down the street to City Hall.

  With my gaze focused forward, I didn’t see the door opening and Craig Morgan barreling down on me. The box of treats fell to the ground and I turned to face the man I’d verbally accosted, according to the mayor, that morning.

  “I guess you didn’t see me walking.” I picked up the box, lifting the lid gently to see the cookies weren’t totally destroyed.

  “Miss Gardner, you realize you aren’t the only person in the world, right?” Craig Morgan growled at me.

  “Hey buddy, you ran into me.” I heard my voice rise along with my blood pressure as another, more rational part of me whispered to myself, This is not a good idea.

  The man smiled at me. A truly evil smile. “Oh, Miss Gardner, you haven’t seen anything yet. You and your wall are going to be the laughingstock of South Cove before I’m through with you.”

  I half-expected him to add, “And your little dog, too.” The image made me giggle.

  Craig Morgan appeared incredulous. “You truly don’t know what’s happening here, do you?”

  “Look. I’m sorry I yelled at you this morning. I believe we, as business owners, should put aside this incident and work together for a better South Cove.” I put on my best liaison smile. With any luck, I’d be able to report to the mayor I’d already fixed the problem when I delivered the treats.

  “I am going to destroy you.” Craig slipped into his BMW and gunned the engine, leaving me standing slack-jawed in the middle of the sidewalk.

  “You made a bad enemy.” Josh stood in the doorway of his shop.

  “But I didn’t—” Josh didn’t let me finish my thought. He shut the door, leaving me alone on the street, my crumpled box sitting in my hands.

  Once I arrived at City Hall, I breezed through the air-conditioned front hall, back to Amy’s desk in front of the mayor’s office. It was empty. I glanced at her computer and saw it was shut down. A note sat in her outbox—See you tomorrow was written in Amy’s favorite purple pen.

  I glanced at the mayor’s door. If I got lucky, he was out for the rest of the day and I could leave the box and a note on Amy’s desk. A crashing noise came from the office. Not so lucky today. I squared my shoulders, pasted a smile on my face, and walked over to the door. As I reached up to knock, the door inched forward.

  I hesitated, my hand curled into a fist, but something kept me from knocking. “I don’t care what you want,” the mayor yelled into his phone. “You have to realize until this is finalized, I can’t get involved. I have to look like an impartial party, at least in the eyes of the commission.”

  My stomach dropped. I’d lay odds Craig was on the other side of that phone call. I wanted to burst through the door and tell the man his cover was blown, but what would that get me? Nothing.

  “Look.” The mayor’s voice dropped an octave, appeasing. “If we just hold on, we’ll both get what we want out of this.”

  I heard him pause and then laughter echoed from the office. “You and me both, buddy.”

  I’d had enough. I set the box of cookies on Amy’s desk, scribbled a note, and then almost ran out of the office. Forewarned was forearmed. As I walked back to the house, my mind kept returning to Craig’s threat. I tried to find a positive spin on what I’d learned, but the man had money, power, and the mayor’s ear. I was toast.

  Still in a blue funk when Greg showed up for dinner, I told him about running into Craig. I left out my conversation with Ray and my eavesdropping at the mayor’s office. Whenever Ray’s name came up, Greg’s temperature went up ten degrees. I wanted his opinion on Craig’s declaration, not a lecture on how Ray was dangerous and I should stay away from him. I sat on the deck, drinking a beer, watching Greg grill the steaks. I’d made up a green salad earlier, seeing Craig’s face with every rip of the salad greens.

  “Honey, you can’t make everyone like you.” Greg slipped next to me on the stairs as I stared out toward the place where the old Spanish mission had been located and where we’d found a fortune in old coins.

  “I wish him not liking me was the only problem. He’s made me his enemy, and I don’t think there’s anything I can do about it.”

  Greg pulled me closer. Before he could speak, his cell rang. He frowned. “Sorry. I’m still on call until ten when Toby takes over.”

  He flipped open the phone. “Hey, Esmeralda. What’s happening?”

  I felt his body stiffen and he stood. “I’ll be right there.”

  He nodded to the grill. “You think you can finish these? I’ve got to leave.”

  I nodded. Of course he’d get called out tonight. My entire day had been crap, why not our dinner date? “I can handle grilling a couple of steaks. When will you be back?”

  “I won’t, not tonight.” Greg pulled me to my feet and kissed me hard. Then he gently pushed me back, sweeping a lock of hair out of my eyes. “It’s bad, Jill.”

  Fear gripped my stomach. Amy hadn’t been at work. Last time she’d disappeared, she’d been kidnapped. Please, let her be okay, I silently prayed. I took a breath. “Tell me.”

  “Craig Morgan was found outside The Castle. He’s dead.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Eating dinner alone wasn’t my favorite activity. But when you date someone in law enforcement, especially in a small town, you have to expect plans to be changed at the drop of a hat. Or in this case, a drop of a body.

  I’d held off eating until daylight left the porch. Greg wouldn’t be coming back, not when there’d been a murder. Maybe Craig died of a heart attack? Something natural? Slipping and falling into one of the three pools on site? The pools were beautiful, surrounded with buildings mimicking a classic Grecian bath, the clear blue of the water highlighting the extensive tile work on the bottom of the pool. Too pretty to imagine Craig floating in the water.

  I couldn’t be so lucky, I mused, as I cut a bite off of the steak. The man could grill. I had to give him that.

  Craig Morgan couldn’t have died from a heart attack because he had no heart. And if he’d slipped and fallen, the eel part of his nature would have saved him from drowning, even unconscious. No, I had to face the truth. The man had been murdered. And who’d been seen arguing with the deceased not once, but twice in the last two days?

  Yours truly.

  Even with the town’s detective as my boyfriend, this didn’t look good, even to me. And I knew I didn’t kill the jerk. I had motive and opportunity. The temperament to take a human life? Not so much. My only hope was I’d have an ironclad alibi for the time of death. Like grilling steaks with the town’s detective.

  My thoughts went to the fight Josh and Craig had been having earlier. Could it have continued after I’d walked away? I didn’t want to think that the portly antique dealer could be a cold-blooded murderer, but I knew I hadn’t done the deed. I’d told Greg about the fight; that should be enough for him to check into Josh.

  I pushed my plate away, and Emma whined at my feet. Leaning down to pet her, I noticed her hair standing on end, and then she uttered a low growl aimed at the kitchen door.

  I stood and peeked out the window to the porch. Nothing. Checking the lock on the door, I reached down and petted Emma. “No one out there, girl.”

  She growled louder this time, sniffing under the door frame.

  I turned off the kitchen light and stood in the darkness, watching the backyard. Sometimes wildlife would make their way over, under, or sometimes through the fence surrounding my property. I’d often seen deer grazing through what was supposed to be my garden.

  Letting my eyes adjust to the darkness, I stared out the window. A white glow hovered at the back of the property. I squinted, trying to bring the light into focus. The glow went behind a tree, floating into the woods at the back of the property. Disappearing right at
the edge of the stone wall.

  Local legend claimed the mission was haunted by the souls of the dead Catholic fathers who’d founded the mission as a way to bring the local natives to salvation. The natives later blamed them for the cholera that almost wiped out their tribe. The mission had been burned and the residents killed.

  All that remained of the mission was the gold coins in my safe deposit box and five feet of stone wall, less than three feet tall at the highest spot. The mission Craig called a garden wall and me a fraud for trying to verify the historical site.

  Or had. Before someone killed him.

  I leaned down and stroked Emma’s head. “No one is out there, girl. No chasing rabbits, not tonight.” I grabbed my plate and left it in the sink. I’d clean up tomorrow. Tonight, I was taking a glass of wine and a book to my room to enjoy what might be my last night of freedom.

  I grabbed a bottle of white zin out of the refrigerator. Greg and I had picked up a case when we visited the Napa Valley last month. The trip had been our first overnight weekend just the two of us. I smiled, thinking of the small bed-and-breakfast where we’d stayed. Amy had watched Emma. That had been a good weekend.

  I tried to convince myself there would be more weekends like that. I didn’t kill Craig Morgan and at least I knew it. Innocent people didn’t go to jail.

  Grabbing my notebook and a glass, I headed upstairs to get into my pajamas and cuddle into bed. I needed to figure out who did kill Morgan before the spotlight landed on me. The mayor would love seeing me in jail for something I didn’t do. The man hated me.

  Two hours later, I finished my third glass of wine as I added the mayor’s name to the bottom of my three-page list. Closing the notebook, I felt better. I might have been seen arguing with Craig in the last few days, but in less than an hour, I’d listed off pages of people who hated the man for a variety of reasons. I put a star next to one name. Ray Stewart. Craig owed him money. But for what? Towing an abandoned vehicle from Castle grounds? Ray didn’t seem like a do the work now, pay me later kind of guy. What job had Ray done for Craig? And had Craig paid up?

  Now I wished I’d mentioned Ray being outside Josh’s shop when I was complaining to Greg about Craig being a jerk.

  And Josh. I circled his name. Something had happened between Josh and Craig, and I was going to find out what.

  Slipping under the quilt, I closed my eyes. I’d worry about this tomorrow.

  The next morning, regretting the third glass of wine, I slipped on my running clothes and headed downstairs to start a pot of coffee. I had the day off from the coffee shop. Jackie opened and closed on Fridays. She liked having a weekend, so I handled her shift on Tuesdays, giving her two days off in a row.

  Emma and I started on Main, heading toward the highway, where we’d cross and then head down the trail to the beach. I let Emma off her leash once we got to the beach, allowing her to chase the gulls out of the surf. Music flowed through my earbuds as I ran, and for a few moments, my world felt perfect.

  The morning light was still gloomy, but the fog had burned off. The waves crashed on the sand, whitecaps rippling the ocean’s surface. Lots of people thought the Pacific was always smooth and warm. They were right, it was, farther south down the coast, but here, the ocean turned cool; the waves, turbulent. I loved sitting on the rocky beach watching.

  Glancing toward the parking lot, I saw Greg’s truck. I turned around to find him, but didn’t see him down the beach. I ran toward the bend, a cove inhabited by sea lions most of the time. Emma ran closer. Somehow the dog knew not to engage these large mammals. What amazed me even more was the sea lions seemed to ignore her presence, too.

  Turning the corner, I saw Greg. And Toby. And another man. I started toward Greg, and he put up his hand. “Leash Emma. And stay back.”

  I clipped Emma’s collar on her leash and then stood waiting while Greg walked over toward me.

  When he came close enough to hear me, I said, “Emma never bothers the sea lions. I know I’m not supposed to let her loose, but Greg, she loves this part of the run.”

  “I’m not upset she was loose,” Greg said, bending down to greet Emma, who pulled at her leash to get to him. “Sometimes it’s not about you. Sorry I didn’t get back to the house last night. It’s been crazy.”

  “What’s going on out here?” I turned back to glance at Toby and Tim still standing around something in the cove. “Something happen to one of the sea lions?”

  “We found Craig’s dog.” Greg took my arm and started walking me back to the parking area on other side of the beach.

  “What’s Fifi doing out here?” Craig’s wife, Brenda, had named the black puppy Fifi as a joke, even though the dog would eventually weigh over a hundred pounds. When they divorced, she’d left Fifi with Craig at The Castle rather than confine her to an eight-hundred-square-foot apartment in the city. The woman still came to visit the dog, five years later.

  “Someone tied her to a stake they’d hammered into the ground. If Tim hadn’t found her on his morning pass-through, she’d have drowned when the tide came in.”

  “Craig wouldn’t have left her here.” There was no question to my statement. The man loved his dog.

  “I know. I’m thinking whoever killed Craig dropped Fifi off this morning as a way to get rid of her, too.”

  “You didn’t notice she was missing last night when you went to The Castle?”

  “Honestly, the dog never even crossed my mind. I guess I thought maybe Brenda had her.” Greg stopped at the steps to the upper-level parking, leaning on the rusting metal railing circling the lot. “I should have realized she was missing.”

  “You had other things on your mind.” I watched Greg reach for his pocket where he used to keep his cigarettes before he stopped smoking last year. Now he pulled out a pack of gum he kept on him at all times. I hoped the gum would ease his craving. Greg told me the cravings increased when he was on a big case. When he couldn’t figure out the puzzle. And probably, when his girlfriend was the suspect with the best motive in a murder.

  “Yeah. About that, can you tell me where you went yesterday after the run-in with Craig?” He kept his eyes cast down, not wanting to meet mine.

  “Seriously? You need my alibi?” Anger surged through me. “I was the one who told you I got into it with Craig. Both times. You think I’d tell you about the fights if I’d killed him?”

  “Now, honey, you know how this works. I have to rule you out, just like any other person with motive to kill the victim. If I didn’t ask, people would think I wasn’t doing my job.”

  “And by people, you mean the mayor.” Man, that guy got my goat. No matter what the issue was in South Cove, Mayor Baylor always wanted me to be the cause of the problem. Ever since I’d squashed his plans for the new upscale senior development by refusing to sell Miss Emily’s house and finding the evidence to throw the developer’s girlfriend in prison for murder, he’d been grumpy.

  Greg unwrapped the stick of gum and put the wrapper back in his pocket. “Yes, I mean the mayor. And the city council. And the citizens of South Cove. It’s my job. You knew when we started dating.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t think I’d be suspect number one in every murder happening in South Cove.”

  Greg mumbled something, and with the wind kicking up on the beach, I didn’t hear him. I was sure it wasn’t an affirmation of love by the look on his face.

  “What?” I pressed on. I knew better. I was egging on a fight I couldn’t win. The guy took his job and his responsibilities seriously even when he knew there was no way I could have killed anyone.

  “I said, if you wouldn’t keep getting yourself in the middle of things that don’t concern you, maybe you wouldn’t be suspect number one every time.” Greg’s voice was low and his jaw clenched when he spoke.

  “You can’t even think …”

  He stopped me in mid-sentence. “Do I think you killed Craig Morgan and then tied his dog up to be eaten by sea lions or drowned in the tide w
aters? No. So throw me a bone here. Where were you after the argument with Craig?”

  I took a breath, trying to punch down my anger. Greg was right. This wasn’t his fault and he had to ask. I didn’t have to like it. I thought about yesterday afternoon.

  “I went to City Hall to drop a box of cookies off to the mayor to apologize for whatever problems the fight with Craig had caused.”

  “You mean find out what Craig and the mayor were planning,” Greg translated.

  “Okay, you could see it that way.” Emma bumped me with her nose, a doggie reminder we were supposed to be running. I reached down and patted her head.

  “So you talked to Amy?” Greg pushed.

  “No one was in the front office. I don’t know where Amy was, so I dropped the box off on her desk with a note, and headed home.”

  “What time was that?”

  “It must have been around four. Aunt Jackie had stopped by at three, then we went to the shop to check on Toby.” I glanced over at the midday barista/part-time police officer who was walking toward us, leading a limping Fifi. “Do you know he has a harem of women who visit the coffee shop every day he works? Isn’t he still dating someone?”

  Greg watched as Toby walked up the beach. “A few someones, last I heard.”

  “The kid will never learn.” I continued to watch Toby lead the dog. “Hey, what happened to Fifi’s leg?

  “I’m thinking one of the sea lions must have attacked her when she was tied up. Maybe she was too close to their usual sunning spot.” Greg sighed. “I’m going to have to have the vet look at her. He’s not scheduled to be here until next week, so he’ll charge the city a premium, especially on a Friday.”

  “The mayor’s going to love you when he gets the bill.” I smiled.

  “Back to you?” Greg pressed me.

  “When I got home, I made a salad for dinner, then took Emma for a run down here.” I frowned. “Fifi wasn’t here when we ran through either way. Even if I hadn’t seen her, Emma would have.”

  “Then what?”

  “I took a shower, read a book, and waited for you. You showed up right at eight. And left at nine.”

 

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