Death on Arrival: A Helen Bradley Mystery (Helen Bradley Mysteries Book 1)
Page 1
A Helen Bradley Mystery
Death on Arrival
by
Patricia H. Rushford
Death on Arrival
A Helen Bradley Mystery
By
Patricia H. Rushford
Copyright 2014 by Patricia H. Rushford
Mysteriously Yours
Cover design by Patricia H. Rushford
License Notes
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. With the exception of recognized historical figures, the characters in this novel are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Original series published by Bethany House Publishers
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Note from the Author
Dedication Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Note from the Author
I originally wrote four books in the Helen Bradley Mysteries in 1996. I was able to update and edit three of those books, Red Sky in Mourning, A Haunting Refrain and When Shadows Fall, and upload them to Amazon as e-books. Since the original book #1, Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, is not available for Kindle, I have created a new book one.
Death on Arrival is a prequel to the series, which sets the story in 1996, when Helen is newly married to JB, AKA Jason Bradley. When Death on Arrival opens, Helen has just returned from their honeymoon in Paris. She’s eager to return to her home on the Oregon Coast, but that’s before she realizes what’s waiting for her there.
Dedication Page
Many thanks to my writing friends for their encouragement and brainstorming sessions. Their ideas made this novella possible. A special thank you to Dr. Sandy Dengler, Lauraine Snelling, Tracie Heskett, and Maria Tolar for their advice and their editorial assistance.
Thanks also to my family and friends who continue to be my fans.
Death on Arrival
Chapter One
When their plane touched down in Portland, Helen felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. She’d flown to Paris a month ago as Helen McGrady, widow and grandmother; and returned a newly married woman, Mrs. Jason Bradley.
Her family wouldn’t be meeting them at the airport. In fact Helen hadn’t even told them she’d be coming home or that she’d married. She sighed and leaned her head back against the seat, her stomach tying itself in knots as she anticipated their reactions. Her son would likely shake his head and laugh, not at all surprised that his mother would up and marry the man she’d known most of her life. He might even be happy about it.
Her daughter, however, would be angry and hurt, upset not because she’d chosen to marry JB, but because she’d done it without her approval. Kate had fallen into the adult child caretaker role. Though she didn’t say it to her face, Helen suspected Kate felt her mother needed a keeper.
A sigh worked its way through her concern. She was far from helpless and even farther from feeble. She might not be young, but she was definitely not old.
JB seemed to sense her unease and placed his hand over hers. His lips brushed against her cheek and in that irresistible Irish Brogue of his he whispered, “It’ll be all right, luv. You’ll see.”
She nodded. “I know. Kate will have a fit at first, but she’ll eventually come around. She won’t have much choice after all.”
“I wish I could be there to ease some of the tension.”
Helen squeezed his hand. “Maybe it’s better that you’re not with me. We’ll give them a chance to get used to the idea.”
Her new husband, who was also an old friend, would be taking off for the Middle East as soon as they landed in Portland. His work with the CIA would take him on another dangerous mission. She hated the thought of having him leave so soon, but she knew well what his work entailed and had agreed to marry him anyway. Love superseded common sense at times. Still, Helen decided she’d have it no other way. JB loved his work and she loved him.
“I’m sorry to have to leave so soon. I’d hoped for another month with you.”
She smiled, her gaze holding his, reminding her of why she’d taken the leap. Seeing the love reflected in his sky blue eyes, she leaned her head against his broad shoulder. “I know.”
They’d married for better and for worse and Helen prayed the worst would be a long time coming.
An hour later, Helen hugged and kissed her husband for what could be the last time. Goodbyes could always be the last time when you had the kind of jobs both she and JB had. JB could have passed as the original James Bond in both looks and dangerous assignments. She on the other hand, had worked until recently as a police officer, then opted for undercover work, which she still did on occasion.
His arms wrapped tight around her. “It’s harder to leave you than I thought it would be.” His voice held an emotional roughness she seldom heard.
“For me as well.” She chuckled and tipped her head back. “But we were never this intimate as friends. Marriage makes us a true part of one another. Your leaving makes me feel as though you’re taking part of me with you.”
He released her and grinned in that rakish way of his. “I wish I could take all of you.”
“Mm.” She murmured. “I’ll miss you.” She didn’t tell him that though she loved him dearly, she wasn’t keen on accompanying him to a war-torn country at the moment. Truth be told, she wanted to go home. She shuddered to think of the pile of correspondence waiting to be answered. Even worse would be the answering machine.
Still, being home, watching the waves crash against the rocks below and later sitting by a fire in her cozy living room enticed her almost as much as cozying up to her new husband.
“Please give my regards to your family,” JB said as he turned to go.
“I will.”
Only not right now, she mused. Helen supposed she should go straight to Kate’s home here in Portland, but she wasn’t up to a confrontation just yet. She would talk with her daughter soon, maybe even tomorrow via phone. Cowardly perhaps, but better to save certain discussions for a time when she was less exhausted. Besides, she still felt the glow of an exquisite honeymoon and had no desire to shatter it with the reality of her daughter’s disapproval.
So for now, she would head home to her lovely cape cod near Lincoln City. There she’d turn her widow’s home into a love nest for her new husband. She taxied to JB’s apartment on the riverfront where she’d left her car, a vintage 1961 red Thunderbird convertible. Once she’d uncovere
d the car and tucked away her luggage, she made certain it was still in working order. Thankfully, the car started right up and in a few minutes Helen exited the parking garage and merged with the heavy downtown traffic.
It might have made more sense to stay in the apartment for the night and go home in the morning. Leaving now, she’d arrive in Lincoln City after dark. Nonetheless, Helen felt anxious to get home and settle into familiar surroundings. As wound up as she felt, she probably wouldn’t get much sleep anyway.
JB’s new mission had stirred up all kinds of old and painful memories. Unfortunately, the memories included her former husband, Ian. Eleven years ago the State Department sent Ian McGrady to the Middle East on a top secret mission. Helen never learned the details, only that he'd been killed in a terrorist bombing. Thoughts of Ian's death triggered an onslaught of worries about JB.
Helen pushed the thoughts away. She’d promised herself that she’d live life moment by moment and not dwell on the past or on any future problems that may or may not develop. Helen brushed her fingers through her short salt and pepper hair, encouraging the brisk evening wind to whip through it as she increased her speed along Interstate 5
Instead of focusing on JB’s assignment and his possible demise, she relived their days together in Paris. Marriage in a lovely cathedral, trips to every imaginable tourist trap as well as a number of out-of-the-way places along the French Riviera. “No matter what happens from here on out,” Helen said aloud. “We’ll always have our honeymoon.”
“And nothing is going to happen now.” She needed to retain positive thoughts for her own sanity and for their future together.
When JB returned, they’d make their permanent home in her Lincoln City beach house and maintain JB’s apartment for trips into the city. They’d eventually have to remodel the place, but for now it would suit them just fine.
Once Helen left the Willamette Valley and began to pass through the coastal mountain range, the chill in the air increased significantly. She pulled over to the side of the road to slip a jacket over her sweater. Spring weather in the Northwest could be unpredictable, with temperatures in the seventies one day and forties the next. Still, she loved it. Loved walking and running along the beach and visiting her favorite haunts, like the used bookstores and art galleries and restaurants like Tidal Raves in Depot Bay and, of course, Rosie’s bookstore and coffee shop. Delight at being in her element increased with each passing mile.
At the end of her two-hour drive, Helen pulled into her driveway and sat there a moment taking in the sound of wind and waves. The house looked lonely, Helen thought whimsically, as though it had missed her. Mist and fog settled in around her like old friends. While she loved sunny days, she found the mist rather comforting. Reading and writing weather. Cozy fire weather. She looked forward to turning on the gas fireplace and settling into her favorite chair with a hot tea. First, however, she needed to unpack and then put the top up on the car.
Like many houses with a view of the coast, the back of the house faced the street, leaving the front room and bedrooms with ocean views. In her home, the kitchen was on the street side, but it afforded an unobstructed view of the living room and beach as well.
Her delight at being home diminished as she stepped out of the car. Something was wrong. She felt it first in her bones, and then she saw it. The porch light was out and the door stood slightly ajar. Could Janelle have forgotten to close and lock it?
Janelle Cooper, a woman from her church, usually looked after the house while Helen was away. She would collect the mail and make certain everything was in order every few days.
Helen made her way to the door and cautiously pushed it open.
“Hello,” she called out as she moved inside and peered beyond the entry. Hearing and seeing no one, she flipped on the light switch and called out again. Her weapon would have come in handy, but it was stashed away in the trunk of her car. She moved forward, turning lights on as she went. While she didn’t find an intruder, she had no question that one had been there. The house looked as though it had been through a tornado. Someone had apparently been looking for something. What, she could only imagine.
Fortunately, Helen didn’t keep any of her important files here in her home, but no one knew that. Had the intrusion been the result of a former arrest? Like any law enforcement officer she’d made her share of enemies.
“Time to stop speculating,” she muttered, “and call the authorities.”
While she hated to touch anything, Helen needed to use the telephone. She’d have gone back out to the car to wait and use her cell phone, but it had gone dead two days ago and she hadn’t bothered to recharge it. Electronics were only as good as the humans using them.
After reporting the break-in to the police, Helen called her friend, Janelle Cooper. When Janelle didn’t answer, Helen went back outside to wait. The mist had turned to rain. She shivered as the wet cold penetrated her clothing. Her homecoming was not going at all as planned.
It took less than ten minutes for the police to arrive. Helen didn’t know whether to be relieved or concerned when one of them turned out to be a police woman she’d met in Florida not long ago. The dark curly hair and challenging blue eyes left no doubt as to her identity. Officer Angel Delaney.
Angel smiled and held out a hand. “Mrs. McGrady. I figured I’d run into you sooner or later.” She introduced Helen to her partner Eric Mason and went on to tell Helen that she’d moved to Bay Village a couple of months ago. “My parents live here. It’s where I grew up.”
Helen shook hands with both officers. “Good to see you again, Angel, but my last name is Bradley now.”
Angel looked as though she wanted to know more, but seemed to set her curiosity aside. “So we got a call that your place was burglarized?”
Helen walked toward the house. “Yes, it looks that way. I just got back from Portland. I’ve been in Europe for over a month. I noticed the door was ajar and came in to discover this.”
Angel and her partner, a nice looking man she took to be in his early thirties, followed her to the porch and asked her to stay outside while they took a look. After a few minutes, Angel met her at the car. “Eric is looking around outside. “ Angel pursed her lips. “Can you tell if anything is missing?”
“Not really. It’ll take me a while to go through the house.”
“If you want I’ll call the state forensics lab. Not sure it’ll do much good though. Someone probably knew you were gone and thought the house might be a good prospect.”
Eric came around the corner. “We’ll have to do more than that, Angel,” he said. “Looks like we have a homicide.”
Chapter Two
“You found a body?” Helen brushed a hand through her damp hair. “Where?”
“Out back. Just off your deck.”
Helen stared at him in disbelief. Her first thought was of Janelle. “I need to see.”
She bolted and raced around to the back of the house. Eric yelled at her to stop and she did once she saw the body. “Oh, no. I was afraid of this.”
“Do you know her?” Angel asked.
“Janelle Cooper. She picks up my mail and checks the house for me when I’m gone.” Helen sank onto the porch step, moisture from the damp wood soaking into her slacks. “She must have walked in on the intruders.”
As a police officer and later a detective, Helen had seen her share of death. But this was different. This was Helen’s home and Janelle had been a friend. She forced herself to look at the dead woman. A head wound seemed the obvious cause of death. Janelle’s gray-blonde hair was matted in blood. “I can’t believe it. Who would want to kill Janelle?”
Angel hunkered down next to the victim. “If she put up a fight, maybe forensics will be able to come up with some DNA.”
“When did you say you got into town, Mrs. Bradley?” Eric asked.
Helen glanced at her watch. Ten fifteen. “I got into Portland a couple of hours ago. I only just arrived here. I came in, saw th
e mess, did a walk through to make certain no one was here and I called you.” She chewed in her lower lip. “I didn’t think to check out here.”
“Can you vouch for your whereabouts?” He lifted his chin and rested his hands in his belt.
“Of course.” Helen sighed. She didn’t blame the officer for asking. She’d have done the same thing.
“I flew into Portland at seven, left there at around eight. My ticket information is in the car.”
“This woman’s been dead for a while, Eric.” Angel looked up at them. “The medical examiner can tell us for sure.”
Angel let her gaze linger on Helen. “Do you have any idea who might have done this, Mrs. Bradley?” She frowned. “I mean, did you have something here that would warrant breaking in and trashing the place like this?”
“If you mean information on cases I’ve worked on, no. The only things I have on my computer are a few articles. Since I left the police department, I’ve been freelancing. I write for several travel magazines.”
“Cases?” Eric cast her another suspicious look.
“I was a detective with the Portland Police and I occasionally help the sheriff here with his investigations.”
“So you’re a deputy?”
“Not exactly. More of a consultant.” She looked around. “Where is Sheriff Adams, by the way? This is his jurisdiction.”
“He’s on a domestic case in east county.” Angel said. “We were close by when your call came in.”
Helen nodded. Though she had nothing against Angel and her partner, she would have preferred working with Joe.
“What about your friend, here?” Eric asked. “Did she have any enemies?”