The Michaela Bancroft Mysteries 1-3

by Michele Scott

  Both detectives left the room. Pellegrino stuck out a hand. "Joe sent me over. I'm a cousin."

  "I figured. I would normally say that it would be nice to meet you, but…"

  He waved his hand at her. "I understand. So, did you off the guy?"

  It took her a few seconds to process his question. "Of course not!"

  "You can tell me, I'm your lawyer."

  "No way. I didn't kill anyone."

  "Yeah, Joe says you're a good lady. I think I did pretty good with them cops, huh?"

  What did he mean by that? "Yes," she said. "I think so. Wouldn't you know? I, uh, have never been in a situation like this."

  "Oh yeah, me either. Crazy, man. Kinda cool, like one of them cops-and-lawyer shows."

  Michaela crossed her arms and stared at him. "What kind of law do you practice?"

  "Who, me?" He pointed at himself and then flattened down his silk tie. "Yeah, well, I'm a tax attorney, you know."

  "Perfect." She put her face in her hands.

  "Don't cry on me. I don't do so good with tear jags."

  "Out of all the cousins you guys seem to have, there's no criminal defense attorney?"

  "Oh yeah, there is. That'd be Pauly, but he's out in Chicago, you know. But look, I can get you out of this. Like I said, it don't take a genius to see they got a weak case. We just gotta get your bail posted."

  "Right." Anthony Pellegrino may not have been a criminal defense attorney, but he was all she had right now.

  "Okay, so here's the deal. They got your prints on the murder weapon. But it was your mallet, so they gotta prove you had time. They got a motive with this thing, though."

  "Uh-huh, me sleeping with Sterling. Do you know who told them such a thing?"

  Pellegrino looked down at his notes. "Do you know a Lucia Sorvino?"

  "What? Pepe's teenage daughter?"

  "Says here she's twenty."

  "I know who she is. We're not friends. But she's served me a platter of lasagna from time to time at her father's restaurant. I had a little disagreement yesterday morning with her father before the event. She was there and her brother showed up. I don't even really know the girl. Why would she say something like that?"

  "I don't know, but the police have it on file."

  "This is craziness!"

  "I'm going to level with you. This Peters dude, he's a jerk, a real uptight cop, and I think he'd like to wrap this thing up because Taber was from a highfalutin family who lives up in Santa Barbara. He don't want no heat, so if you look like a good suspect, then that's the angle he's gonna pursue for now. But Joe says you got a friend here in the department."

  She nodded. "Jude Davis. He's a homicide detective."

  "He might be able to help us out. Have you spoken with him?"

  "No. He's on a cruise with his daughter. He won't be back until Friday."

  "Huh. Five days. Okay, so while we're waiting for your friend to come back from his vacation, there is a hearing arranged for first thing this morning. The judge will likely set bond, but it won't be cheap."

  "How much?"

  "Murder case? You're looking at a quarter mil."

  "Two hundred fifty thousand dollars! I don't have that kind of cash right now."

  "You only have to come up with ten percent of it."

  Michaela sighed. She didn't even have that amount of liquid assets at the moment. She'd put most of her cash from her inheritance into building up the autism riding center and for the special equipment needed, along with the extra horses she'd bought. The money that hadn't gone into the center she'd invested in the tack shop, and she was working on just enough capital to keep her business running and pay her bills. Oh God, she couldn't turn back now. She'd been down the road toward bankruptcy a few short years ago, and she refused to go back there. "That's still a lot."

  "What about your parents, friends, property?"

  She cringed at any of those thoughts. Definitely not her parents. She couldn't ask any friends. She wouldn't do that to them. But her property? Uncle Lou's place. That was her only option. "My ranch. If I have to."

  "Good. I talked with your friend Camden and had her pack an outfit for you for this morning. By the time they take you back to your cell, the clothes should be there."

  Her eyes stung with tears. Her cell. The one hour she spent inside the jail cell in the wee hours she'd paced back and forth, her mind full of rage, fear, and shock. Then Peters had come for her and she'd been in the interrogation room ever since.

  Pellegrino smiled warmly at her. "It's gonna be okay. We'll get through the morning. You'll be home by noon. That's my job, and after that we'll get to work on your defense and I will get to work on these clowns here and continue to remind them that everything they have is circumstantial and weak."

  How was he going to work on anything? He was a tax attorney, for crying out loud, but she didn't have it in her to bring that up right now. All she wanted was to get the hell out of there. She nodded and tried to smile back in return, but she wasn't sure at all how she was going to make it through the morning.

  EIGHT

  IT WASN'T TWENTY-FIVE GRAND THAT GOT Michaela out of jail but rather fifty, and the thought of leveraging Uncle Lou's place made her ill. Apparently the judge thought she was a flight risk because she had the financial means to "get away." Please! Where would she go? She had a barn filled with horses that were family to her, a handful of children she gave riding lessons to whom she adored, parents who lived two miles from her that she saw at least once a week, and a circle of friends she couldn't live without. She almost laughed when the old curmudgeon of a judge brought up the idea that she might flee. It was as ridiculous as the notion that she had been sleeping with Sterling. She had every intention of speaking with Lucia Sorvino to find out why in the world she was spreading such vicious lies. That girl had some explaining to do. Didn't she know what rumors could do to a person's life? Try on destroy it for size!

  Joe showed up at the courthouse to take her home, while her new attorney shook her hand and said he'd be in touch with her by the end of the day. "I'd go with you, but I want to see what I can line up for you before we talk again. Joey, take care of her."

  "Always do." Joe opened the passenger door to his minivan. Once he was behind the wheel, he looked over at her. "What the hell happened, girl?"

  "I wish I knew. One minute I'm riding in the match, the next I find Sterling dead in my store, then when it's all over with, I head home and just as I've finally fallen asleep, it sounds like a herd of my horses are trying to break the door down, and outside stand Starsky and Hutch."

  "At least you haven't lost your sense of humor."

  "I think I'm still in shock. Look, I'm in trouble, Joe. I can see it in Detective Peters's eyes. He thinks that I did this and so does that woman cop. I can't go to jail. I didn't kill anyone. And by the way, thanks for sending in Anthony…but a tax attorney?" Michaela felt something under her on the car seat and picked up a half-eaten cheeseburger, which she'd sat on. "What in the…"

  "Sorry. I know, the kids. They got a problem picking up after themselves. We're working on it."

  She spotted a few French fries on the floorboard and pointed. Joe glanced down. "Throw in a Coke and I might have a meal."

  "That Joe Jr.! Anyway, of course you didn't kill no one. I've known you since we was kids, Mickey. I know Anthony isn't exactly what you need. But it was the best I could do on short notice, and he did get your bail posted."

  "Yeah, he did do that."

  "You could eat a little more these days. I'd tell you to eat that burger but I don't know how long it's been here. Why don't we stop and get a bite?"

  "It does look partially dehydrated. Eating isn't always a priority for me. I've been busy. And right now I just want to get home and shower."

  "Never too busy to eat." He rubbed his large belly. "I think you get overwhelmed with all you got going on and you are the last person you take care of. You handle the horses, the kids at the center, that
crazy broad Camden you live with, and then some. You need some you time."

  She smiled at his comment. Ah, the big bro she never had—technically, because Joe had become everything a big brother is for a sister. She knew it drove Jude nuts that they were such good friends. He liked Joe, but his family ties made Jude uncomfortable. They didn't bother Michaela, who had seen plenty of Joe's softer side. She'd seen him with his little girl, Gen, Michaela's first autistic student and the reason she'd agreed to open the riding center in the first place. She adored the little girl, who loved to be around horses. No, she was not about to lose any of it—her animals, her friends, the kids, her ranch. She'd fight whoever had set her up. "We've got to get a handle on this. You and I both know the cops won't help me."

  "What about Jude? The guy is crazy for you."

  "He's on a cruise with his little girl."

  "Oh."

  "Oh is right, and he won't be back for five days. I can't wait for five days while Peters attempts to burn me at the stake. I've got to find out who did this, who murdered Sterling Taber."

  "Oh no. I see where this is going."

  "It's not like we've never been down this road before. We make a good team. You know we do, and this time I really need your help."

  He didn't comment for a second, just sort of frowned, then nodded. "Where do we start?"

  She sighed. "By questioning that Sorvino brat. Pepe's daughter, Lucia." Joe turned the corner into Michaela's ranch. A slight sound escaped from her lips. "Oh my God."

  "You can say that again. I don't think we start with Lucia."

  NINE

  A LOCAL TV NEWS VAN WAS PARKED OUT IN front, with a blonde-headed woman reporter all miked up and ready to interview, along with her cameraman. It looked as though Camden and Dwayne were trying to chase them off the property, but they were being completely ignored. Now they turned their attention to the oncoming minivan. "This isn't good," Joe said. "I can run them over."

  "No!"

  "Just kidding. Maybe I can flip a U-ee and we'll make a run for it."

  "No, don't do that! What do they want?"

  "I think we are about to find out. Keep your head down and walk to the house. I'll get rid of them." Joe parked the van and got out first, asking everyone to back away. He did his best to keep his hulking self in front of her while the reporter shouted obnoxious questions at her: "Did you kill Mr. Taber? Were you in love with Sterling Taber? What about your riding center?"

  Michaela turned around and faced the reporter—a statuesque blonde with a crisp navy suit and heels.

  "What are you doing?" Joe asked.

  "I'm telling them the truth. For the record, I barely knew Mr. Taber. I did not kill him. My riding center will remain open. I ask that you respect my property and my privacy and please leave."

  She turned around and headed toward her front door. The cameraman and reporter ran in front of her and were now in her face. The reporter shoved the microphone at her. "How did you meet Mr. Taber? Can you tell us about the mallet?" She tried to push the camera out of the way, which caused her to trip and nearly fall as she reached the front porch step.

  Joe lost it at that point. "Get the hell out of here, or I will call the police. You are on private property and Ms. Bancroft will charge you with trespassing. She's made a statement, and has kindly asked you to leave. I won't be so kind. Get the hell out of here!" he bellowed.

  One look at Joe and the newspeople understood he was serious. Michaela finally made it through her front door and heard her phone ringing. Joe eyed her as she reached for it. "Let me answer it." He grabbed the phone before she could. "No!" he yelled, slamming it down. He looked at Michaela, who set her purse on the kitchen counter. "Reporter."

  "Ah. Great! As if I'm suddenly like Angelina Jolie adopting a new kid. At least instead of making People magazine's most beautiful list, I'll only have the honor of making Indio's most wanted list. Just what I need—star status. Yeah. Great. Why do they have any interest in me?"

  Camden walked in with Dwayne like a lap dog at her heels. Michaela still needed to have that one-on-one with her, and the sooner the better. She had to get to the bottom of what Camden had said after finding Sterling's body.

  "The media likes a juicy story, and you are apparently it," Camden said. "Remember that Sterling was voted most eligible bachelor by the women's league of social activities in the desert."

  "Oh, what an honor. He was a regular Colin Farrell." Camden made a face at her. "I didn't do jack. I'm a horse trainer. I teach children how to ride. I barely knew that guy, and now this. And I plan to find out who did it. Speaking of that 'most eligible bachelor' thing, weren't he and Juliet Mitchell a couple?"

  Camden shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

  Sure.

  The phone rang again and again Joe answered. "What? No, of course not. Now listen, Rhonda, you've got to be reasonable here. That's ludicrous. Yes." He paused.

  Michaela turned her attention to Joe. Rhonda was the woman who headed up the autism society, had been the one to help Michaela get a license, and worked with her on teaching the kids. She had recommended many children to her, and Michaela was now working regularly with seven children, including Joe's daughter, Gen.

  "Okay." Joe sighed. Oh, this could not be good. "Yes. No. I'm sure that she'll understand and we will get all of this worked out." He hung up.

  Michaela crossed her arms. "Work out what? What will she understand?" Joe looked down. "What is it, Joe?"

  "Rhonda received a call from channel 8 and they wanted a quote from her for tonight's six o'clock news about your arrest, whether or not you would still be working with the autistic society, and if they would still recommend children to ride with you."

  "What? No! Oh no, no!"

  Camden placed a hand on her shoulder. Michaela, near tears, shook it off and walked into the kitchen, where she took a pitcher of water from the fridge. She needed to think. "What did she say?"

  "She wouldn't give them a quote. But…" He paused. "…she did ask that in light of the negative publicity that for a while, until everything is worked out, you not work with the kids. She's pretty sure that when the parents hear about this, there'll be some fallout to deal with."

  Michaela slammed the pitcher onto the counter, spilling water on the floor. "Those are my kids! Those kids are everything to me, along with my horses. She can't do this! She has to know that I'm not guilty."

  "Of course she knows, but look at it from her point of view, Mick. She's gotta cover her butt."

  Michaela frowned as she said, "Unbelievable!" She grabbed her purse off the counter.

  "Where are you going?" Camden shouted.

  "To see Lucia Sorvino…but first, I want to talk to you. Upstairs. Now."

  "Now?"

  "Now." Michaela motioned for Camden to head up first. She wasn't about to let her get out of this.

  Camden turned around to look at her. "What's this all about?" she asked when they'd closed the bedroom door.

  "The comment you made yesterday about Sterling right after he was killed, about being more than friends. Do you want to elaborate?"

  Camden sighed.

  Michaela's stomach sank. "Please tell me that you weren't cheating on your fiancé!"

  "No, no I wasn't."

  "Thank God." Michaela plunked down on the end of her bed atop a coral tropical-flower print.

  "But I did sleep with him." Camden tossed back her red hair.

  "You better explain this one, my friend."

  Camden sat down next to her. "Look, here's the deal. It was a long time ago. A very long time ago."

  "Like how long ago?"

  Camden scowled. "Do you remember George?"

  "Your first husband?"

  "Uh-huh."

  "Yes. The golf pro."

  She nodded. "Sterling was his caddy."

  "Oh no. I can already tell that I am not going to like where this is going. Wait, George? That was what, eight years ago?"

  "Nine."

&nbs
p; "Nine, and Sterling was twenty-six when he died, which means that you and he…when he was seventeen!"

  "He told me that he was nineteen."

  "Oh my God! You…you're like a regular Mrs. Robinson. That is really disturbing!"

  "Hey, I prefer more like an Eva Longoria on Desperate Housewives during that first season, when she was sleeping with the gardener kid. He was a senior in high school. Really good story line."

  "I don't watch TV, and I don't care who you think you're like. That's just gross."

  "He said he was a virgin and he wanted to know what it was like because he was going off to college. Kind of like a soldier going off to war."

  "You've got to be kidding me. You're delirious, Cam. You believed him? Young guy like that waiting until he was nineteen? Even at seventeen, I'm pretty sure Sterling Taber did his share of the cheerleading squad long before he graduated. Wait. How did you even meet him?"

  "Golfing one day with George. He had those dreamy eyes and his body, wow…And George was already messing around with Debbie, who became wife number four, so I figured, no harm, no foul—"

  Michaela cut her off. "It doesn't matter. What I want to know is, were you sleeping with him again?"

  "I told you that I wasn't. God, Mick. I just said that it was a long time ago. I'm engaged to Dwayne."

  Michaela cocked an eyebrow. "Like that really stopped you in the past. I just want to be sure."

  "This is different. I love Dwayne and you know that. I'd never do anything to hurt him."

  "Then why even have Sterling close by? Why have him in the show? If you love Dwayne like you say that you do, then why tempt yourself?"

  She sighed. "I'll tell you everything from the beginning."