Murdered by Country Music: A High Desert Cozy Mystery

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Murdered by Country Music: A High Desert Cozy Mystery Page 5

by Dianne Harman


  “Actually, I’m well aware of the murder. My friend’s food truck is next door to the French Food Obsession, and our motor home is next to the one where the man was murdered. My statement was taken today by the sheriff, but I didn’t observe anything, so there wasn’t much for me to say.”

  “Strange place for a murder. I feel there must be more to it than a random act of violence.”

  “I agree, but I don’t know what the motive could be. I’d not met the man who was murdered until yesterday,” Marty said.

  “One of my employees interviews all the vendors and does a background check on each of them. He’d heard that Jacques Rushon had become one of the shining stars in the chef world here in the Palm Springs area and then became involved in drugs. Gene told me that Jacques had spent some time in rehab and was trying to turn his life around. That’s why he decided to take a chance on him. Given the turn of events, I’m not so sure that was a wise move. Anyway, let me give you a quick walkthrough of my collection, and then I’d be interested in hearing what you think of it.”

  Although Marty had planned on spending only a few minutes at the ranch house, she couldn’t disappoint Jeb who clearly loved his collection. “You can see that I’ve specialized in the California plein air painters of the early 20th century,” he said, gesturing to the paintings by some of the best artists of the period.

  “Mr. Rhodes, I don’t need to tell you about the caliber of your collection. It’s incredible. To see works by William Wendt, Guy Rose, and Edgar Payne in one collection is very rare. I would be honored to appraise your collection. Have you had it appraised in the past? And what’s the purpose of the appraisal?”

  He was quiet for a few moments, looking down at his hands. After a long pause, he evidently came to some inner decision, and he began to talk, “Mrs. Morgan, I feel I can trust you. The collection was appraised many years ago, because my insurance company insisted that it be if they were going to insure it.”

  “Yes, that’s very common. I do a lot of appraisals for an insurance company for just that reason,” Marty responded.

  “Well, this will be a little different. You just met my daughter, Gigi. She’s the one who answered the door. I have another daughter, Brianna.” He stopped talking and slowly took a sip of the iced tea next to him as he appeared to be carefully contemplating what he was going to say next. “Brianna has been a challenge to me. Her mother died a few years ago, and I’ve had to be both a mother and a father to my girls. I’ve done fine with Gigi. Brianna, not so good.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve never had children, but I know they can be challenging.”

  “That might possibly be the understatement of the year. You see Brianna is a beauty and plenty of people, men in particular, will do anything for a beautiful woman. In Brianna’s case, it’s developed into a little drug habit, no, make that a pretty big drug habit. I’ve tried everything short of putting her into a rehab facility, but that’s probably going to be the next step. I’ve convinced myself it’s for her own good, and I believe it.”

  Instinctively Marty put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, this must be so difficult for you, but I’m still unclear as to what type of an appraisal you need from me, and please, the name is Marty.”

  “And you can call me Jeb,” he said smiling. “Marty, I’m worried that if something happens to me Brianna will sell my collection for whatever she can get in a quick sale and use the money from the sale to buy drugs. I don’t know whether or not rehab will work, but I need to set up a separate trust for Gigi. If something happens to me, I don’t want her to be penniless because of her sister’s drug habit. What I need from you is an appraisal based on the fair market value for my paintings, in other words a value that Gigi could realistically expect to get in the future if she needed the money. My attorney would set this up as a trust which is separate from my main trust and manage it until Gigi is of a legal age. As it stands now, if anything were to happen to me, both girls would inherit equally and knowing Brianna, there’s a good chance she would spend all of her money and then start working on Gigi’s.”

  “I’m certainly not a lawyer, but won’t there be quite a few years before Gigi can inherit anything, since she’s not of age?”

  “Yes, but the age I have in my present trust is eighteen, which is not that far away for Gigi, and the paintings are simply lumped in as part of my overall general estate. As I said, I want to set up a separate trust fund for the benefit of Gigi with the value of my paintings funding that trust. Do you think you can do an appraisal of that type?” Jeb asked.

  “Of course, but I have a suggestion. You haven’t said anything about the rest of the things in this room, and I’m assuming you have other valuable pieces in the rest of the house as well. From what I’ve seen, you have some superb western and Native American artifacts. What if I drew up two appraisals? I could do one that focused only on the paintings and another one that encompassed the rest of the items. That way, you’d have a very clear idea of what the value is of the assets you want to place in a special trust for the benefit of Gigi. And Jeb, don’t give up on Brianna. A lot of people turn their lives around, and she very well might be one.”

  “Thanks, Marty. That sounds like a good plan. Why don’t we walk through the house, and you can get a sense of what I have here? Once you see what I have, I’d like you to draw up a proposal of the time you’d need to spend on the appraisals and the amount you’d charge me for preparing them.”

  “I’d be happy to. I really need to get back and help my friend at the food truck, so I’ll do a very quick walk-through if that’s all right with you.”

  “Absolutely, let’s get started.”

  A half hour later Marty said, “I’ll get back to you within a few days with a proposal. I’d really enjoy doing the appraisals. You have a wonderful eye for collecting beautiful art objects. If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you something. Your house is decorated so tastefully, and you mentioned your wife was deceased. I’m wondering if you’d mind giving me the name of your decorator? My clients are often anxious to find a decorator who’s able to incorporate their art and antiques into a comfortable setting.”

  Jeb smiled and said, “You’re looking at the decorator. I’ve done all of it myself. It’s kind of a hobby of mine.”

  “My compliments to you. You certainly have mastered your hobby.”

  “Marty, while we were walking through the house, I kept thinking about the man that was murdered who owned the French Food Obsession food truck. I’ve had one of my employees follow Brianna for some time trying to figure out where she’s getting her drugs. He told me she made several trips to that food truck yesterday, and when she came home last night, she was clearly under the influence of an illegal drug called a molly.

  “A few minutes before you arrived I received a call from my employee. He said Brianna had gone back to the French Food Obsession as soon as the gates opened today, but she didn’t buy anything and never went back the rest of the day. Putting two and two together, I wonder if the man who was murdered was selling drugs from the truck, and since he was dead the drugs were no longer available. Do you know anything about that?”

  I sure do, but I promised Jeff I wouldn’t say anything.

  “Jeb, I wish I could help you, but I honestly don’t know, however there is one thing that makes me think your theory might be correct. The crowds at the food truck were very large yesterday. Today they were down considerably, and your theory could be the reason. My fiancé is a detective with the Palm Springs Police Department and is also working with me as a volunteer helper at the food truck called The Red Pony. As you well know, your property is under the jurisdiction of the county sheriff, but my fiancé will be helping him. I’ll tell him about your suspicions.”

  “Thanks. If there’s anything I can do so other parents don’t have to go through the agony that I’m going through, I’d be happy to help. I’ll look forward to hearing from you,” he said as he opened the door for her.

&
nbsp; “Good night, Jeb, and again, I’m sorry about your problems with Brianna.”

  I always wanted children, she thought, but maybe I’ve been spared the pain of seeing a child in trouble.

  CHAPTER 12

  When Marty returned to The Red Pony she saw there was a long line snaking away from it. She hurried in, grabbed an apron, and said, “My turn, Laura. I’ll finish up. Sorry, I really didn’t plan on spending that much time at the ranch house.”

  “Marty, is everything okay?” Jeff asked. “I was about ready to go to the ranch house and see if you were all right.”

  “Yes, I’m fine. I had a long talk with Jeb Rhodes, and I’ll tell you all about it later. Right now it looks like we have a lot of hungry people, almost kind of like a feeding frenzy. What caused it?”

  “Several of the sound stage venues are setting up for the next set of bands, so there’s a short break in the action. I think it’s also a case of people needing food to absorb the drugs and booze they’ve ingested. Looks like a lot of those cups are holding Fireball cinnamon whiskey, rather than soft drinks.”

  “I’ve never heard of it. What is it?”

  “It’s a type of whiskey that’s the big thing with the younger generation drinkers. The people who make it did a brilliant job of marketing it, and I’m told it’s pretty much the drink of choice at music festivals.”

  “I’m so out of it. This is a whole new world to me,” Marty said. “I’ve never heard of any of the bands, a molly, or Fireball whiskey. I’ve decided I must be a complete nerd, and if you want to call the wedding off, Jeff, I’d understand.”

  “Marty, I’d be more inclined to call it off if you did know what those things were. I’ve got to get back out there. It’s the time of night when people drop even more napkins and plates than ever on the ground. I can’t tell you how much stuff I’ve picked up today trying to keep the area around The Red Pony clean. Oh, by the way, the sheriff was here a little while ago. He’s coming back when the Pony closes at midnight.”

  “What does he want?”

  “He wants to talk to John and Max again, and quite frankly, that’s a cause for concern. I just wish John hadn’t been so vocal about his dislike for Jacques. The sheriff told me he’d talked to quite a few people around the streets where The Red Pony is usually located at lunchtime and where Jacques also set up his truck. Several people apparently told the sheriff that John felt Jacques was horning in on the Pony’s popularity, and John was quite open about his intense dislike for Jacques. I guess a few of them also said Max didn’t like Jacques at all. See you in a little while. I’m off to clean-up duty.”

  The rest of the night went by in a haze of taking orders, filling orders, and counting money. Marty was certain that in the short time she’d been back to work she’d taken in several thousand dollars. The line was so long John had asked Les to stand beside her and open up another line, so they wouldn’t lose any business. It was a madhouse of people, music, and a sweet pungent smell that Les said came from marijuana. As Marty served her last customer, an announcement came over the festival loudspeaker that the gates were closing in five minutes, and all attendees needed to leave the area.

  *****

  “I know I speak for all of us when I say I can’t remember ever being this tired. I hope John feels the money he’s making this weekend is worth it,” Laura said as she gratefully accepted a glass of wine from Les.

  “He had to have made a lot of money today. It kind of makes me nervous that he’s keeping it in the motor home. I’d feel better if we could get to a bank, but since it’s Saturday night and tomorrow’s Sunday, guess that’s not going to happen,” Jeff said.

  “Actually, I remember him telling me he had a safe built into the floor of The Red Pony, and I imagine that’s where he’s put the cash,” Marty said. “Pretty smart thinking on his part, plus I’ve noticed there’s a lot of security here, and with the gates closed I think his money is just as safe here as it would be anywhere.”

  “Good, that’s one thing I don’t need to worry about,” Jeff said. “I sure would like to know exactly what the sheriff is saying to John and Max about now. When he talked to them this morning, their answers were pretty straightforward. Maybe one of them threatened Jacques during lunchtime in Palm Springs, and he heard about it.”

  “Well, I’m sure they’ll be over here as soon as the sheriff leaves. I don’t envy them being interrogated as tired as they must be. At least we got some breaks today, but the two of them never took a break from noon to midnight. That’s got to be exhausting.”

  Jeff turned to Marty and said, “Tell me about your visit to the ranch house. Is his collection worth appraising?”

  “Absolutely. It’s one of the best I’ve ever seen. What was really interesting is what he told me about his daughter, you know, the one who’s young enough to be your daughter,” she said laughing with a twinkle in her eye. She spent the next few minutes telling him what Jeb had told her about Brianna’s drug abuse problems.

  “That certainly fits in with everything we were talking about earlier,” Jeff said. He turned to Les and Laura. “Let me fill you in on what I was given at Jacques’ truck yesterday when I ordered a special.” He summarized what he’d been given at the French Food Obsession and about the molly capsule as well as his suspicions of why the lines had been so long there yesterday and why they had dwindled to a mere trickle today. “What you found out from your talk with Jeb at the ranch house coincides with my thoughts that Jacques was selling the mollies out of the food truck and referring to them as a special.”

  “From what you’re telling us, Jeff, that definitely seems to be what was happening and while it explains a lot, it still doesn’t tell us who murdered Jacques, and it doesn’t help John or Max,” Laura said.

  “That’s true. I’d like to spend all my time helping John and Max find out who murdered Jacques, but I’ve got to get back to work. There are a number of cases I’m working on, and I was pushing it with my captain when I took yesterday off. What about you, Marty? You had pretty good luck helping to solve a couple of other murder cases. Do you have some time you can spend trying to solve this case?”

  “I’m between appraisals at the moment, so yes, I have a little free time. Jeb didn’t seem in a particular hurry for me to do his appraisal, so I could spend a couple of days seeing what I can find out. I’m just not sure where to look.”

  Laura looked over at her. “I’m still getting a feeling, actually a very intense feeling, that it has something to do with the food truck. I have no idea why I’m saying this, but I think you need to talk to Jacques’ wife and to Ned’s wife. If the two men have been longtime friends, maybe one of the wives knows something. It’s just a hunch I have.”

  “I’ll take your hunches over anyone else’s, Laura,” Marty said. “Jeff, you have ties at the police station. Could you get me addresses and phone numbers for both of them?”

  “Sure, but I’ll need to know their names, although it should be pretty easy to get Ned’s address. By the way Laura, what makes you assume that Ned’s married?”

  “In addition to getting psychic feelings about things, I’m pretty good at noticing things. For instance, when Ned was accusing John and Max this morning of murdering Jacques, I noticed he was wearing a wedding ring. I don’t know why, I just did, and it stuck with me. I’m certain he’s married. Tell you what Marty, I was planning on taking the first of the week off, so why don’t I help you? I’d like to meet both women. Often I can pick up a little something extra about someone when I’m talking to them.”

  “That would be great. We’ll start with Ned’s wife and try and figure out a way to find out who Jacques’ ex-wife is and where she lives. Any thoughts about how we can do that, detective?” she asked, grinning at Jeff.

  “Yes. I just had a thought while Laura was talking. Since it’s an ex-wife, that means he’s divorced. That also means some sort of legal action took place. I’ll have my secretary search the local divorce court records fir
st thing Monday morning as well as try to find out where Ned lives. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

  “Before we go charging off to interview these two women I think we need to ask ourselves if we’re missing anything? In other words, could someone else other than the ones we’ve talked about be the killer?” Les asked.

  “Of course it’s possible,” Jeff said. “It could be nothing more than a random act. The parking lot is open to everyone who has a parking pass, so it could have been anyone. We talked briefly about a drug dealer, but I’m not sure how we could identify, much less, find that person. It could also be someone from Jacques’ past that we know nothing about, however, we in law enforcement always start with who has the most to gain when someone is murdered.”

  “Well, that would pretty much eliminate his ex-wife, because if he’s dead there is definitely no way he could pay his back child support,” Marty said.

  “I agree, but I still think you should talk to her. At one point in time she was his wife, and she may know if someone had a grudge against Jacques.”

  “That’s true, Jeff, and she’d also probably know a lot about his drug use. Maybe the dealer who sold him the molly capsules is the same one he bought from when he was married to her.”

  “With Jacques dead Brianna wouldn’t have that source to buy from, but from what Jeb told me, she got her drugs from multiple sources. I really don’t think he’s anything more than a concerned father, and even though he has a motive, I just don’t see him doing it.”

  “He didn’t,” Laura said with certainty. The others turned to her and she continued, “We need to talk to the wives. One of them knows something, and we need to find out what it is. I’m getting a strong psychic feeling about this. Trust me, I know I’m right.”

  Just as she finished talking there was a knock on the door, and John and Max walked in. The expression on their faces clearly indicated they were badly shaken after their conversations with the sheriff.

 

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