The Michaela Bancroft Mysteries 1-3

by Michele Scott

  "I wish you would. But, you can leave out any more details from your Mrs. Robinson days. I don't think I want to hear about any of that."

  Camden took a sip of her tea before going into her saga. "I hadn't seen Sterling in years. He'd moved to L.A., then back home to Santa Barbara, and then I think he came back here, he said, when he was twenty, but I'd moved on and so had he. We only had a fling—"

  Michaela held up her hands. "Forget that. What I want to know is what had been going on between you two as of late."

  "I'm getting to it. His family is some well-to-do, high-society-type bunch."

  "I thought you said he was seventeen when you met him, but his family lives in Santa Barbara."

  She nodded. "He had some ups and downs with his parents. They tried military school and then finally agreed to let him move out here and live with an uncle, who got him the caddy job. If I remember right, the uncle passed away not long after Sterling turned eighteen, but I really don't know. I wasn't in his life at that point. I only caught bits through the grapevine of what was going on with him."

  "Okay, and…" Michaela motioned for her to continue, finding herself growing impatient.

  "I first saw him a few months back, when that spread ran about him being the most eligible bachelor in the desert and how he rode down at the polo fields. I went to visit him. I thought he'd be a great attraction for the fashion show. It was his idea to do the charity match in the first place."

  "Sure, and you want me to believe that you just went over there for a howdy-do, and to ask him to be in the show." Michaela rolled her eyes. "I've known you for a very long time. You're not fooling me, and please don't try. This is my life on the line here."

  "Okay, so maybe I was a little curious. We had some good times together. We were friends. But trust me, I had no plans to cross that line again, and I didn't."

  Michaela studied her. She actually believed her. One thing that Michaela knew about her friendship with Camden was they were brutally honest with each other. "You're telling me that Sterling came up with the idea for the charity match?"

  "Yes. I don't understand why you didn't like him."

  "He was a show-off, and he made me uncomfortable. I don't like overbearing men and he was one."

  "He was just confident."

  "We don't need to get into the reasons why I didn't care for your friend. The facts are he didn't deserve his fate, and I certainly don't deserve to be charged with his murder."

  "No, you don't. I know you didn't do it."

  "Did he talk to you at all about his personal life, anything that might have been going on?"

  "He did. I told the police yesterday what he told me only a few weeks ago."

  "What was that?"

  "We met for lunch at the polo lounge. He called me, sounding upset and asked if I'd come and meet him. He said that he felt like someone was watching him. He thought someone wanted him dead."

  "Did he say who?"

  "Juliet's father."

  "Ed Mitchell?" Michaela knew Ed fairly well after riding with him at the polo fields. He'd been the one to give Michaela her mallet. He'd told her it was a gift from the club. She couldn't see a man of Ed's prominence murdering anyone.

  "Yes," Camden replied.

  "Okay, wait, so he had this girlfriend, Juliet. But he was also considered an eligible bachelor. I've been wondering about that. Do you know what the deal is there?"

  "That's why he thought her father might want him dead. He and Juliet started going out after he was voted most eligible. We talked. I even spoke with Juliet and she seemed okay with it at the time. We decided that it would bring in a larger crowd to the show if we promoted him that way. I think, though, that Juliet may have had second thoughts, and it upset her. Especially when Sterling was approached by one of those reality TV dating shows. He didn't agree to do it, but Sterling told me that Juliet freaked out about it. And Sterling told me that if Juliet is upset, her daddy becomes even more upset. And I guess Daddy Warbucks also has a bad temper. I told the cops all of this yesterday, too."

  "What did they say?" Michaela had caught wind that Ed was protective of Juliet and that he occasionally lost his temper. But she still couldn't see him as a killer.

  "All the detective said was thank you. I didn't know at the time that Peters was going to arrest you; if I had, I would've pushed the issue further."

  Michaela stood up and paced across her bleached hardwood floors. She needed to think. "Can you do me a favor?"

  "Sure. Anything."

  "Can you see if you can locate any article, or whatever else you can on Sterling? I know he did some acting in L.A. and other modeling gigs. Maybe there's something there. Can you do that for me?"

  "Why?"

  "Please, can you just do it?"

  "What are you looking for?"

  "I'm not sure yet. But the mystery lies with the dead guy, and maybe we'll learn something about his past, his life, anything that will give us answers as to who really killed him, and why."

  "Michaela, don't tangle yourself up in this."

  She let out a sarcastic laugh. "I don't have a choice now, do I? Peters wants me behind bars. I'm in this mess whether I want to be or not, and this time I'm fighting to keep my sanity and my freedom."

  TEN

  MICHAELA PULLED UP IN FRONT OF SORVINO'S, which was on the hill overlooking the polo fields. To her dismay the restaurant appeared to be closed. Only one car stood in the parking lot—a silver convertible Mercedes. She was pretty sure Ed Mitchell drove a car like that. Maybe Sorvino's was open, but normally it was packed; one car in the parking lot didn't exactly constitute busy.

  She didn't know where Lucia Sorvino lived and had hoped that she would be here at the restaurant. Maybe it was for the best if the girl wasn't around, at least for her sake, because Michaela's anger had only deepened as she'd wiped away angry tears on the drive over. How could anyone think she could have murdered Sterling? And now her students—her kids—not coming for lessons because of the negative press! It had been one thing that she owned the damn murder weapon and only her fingerprints were on it. But Lucia had sealed the coffin shut by making up the bizarre lie about her and Sterling. She would get to the bottom of it.

  Even though Sorvino's might be closed, she decided to walk around the building. Maybe someone was there and she could ask them when Lucia might be in. Typically, a clear blue sky in November would have made her grateful to be alive. She'd have taken in the surrounding beauty of the grass field below and the majestic mountains in the background. But there was not a whole lot to appreciate at the moment. One minute it was Sunday afternoon and her team had won a polo match and raised a nice chunk of change for her riding center, then by Monday she'd been arrested for murder. All she wanted to do was be vindicated and get back her life—a life that seemed to have drastically changed in the last twenty-four hours.

  She went up to the front doors and pulled on them but they were locked. She started to walk around to the back of the restaurant, passing some of the large picture windows, which allowed patrons to enjoy the view. Something caught her eye and she peered inside. Pepe Sorvino was talking to Ed Mitchell. So, it was Ed's car. They looked to be having a drink and laughing about something and did not notice her. Michaela continued around the back to knock on the door, but hesitated. Ed stood up from the bar and pulled something from his pocket. She squinted to see what it was. It looked to be a jewelry box. Pepe opened it, and took something out: a diamond ring. Michaela could tell by the way the light caught it. Why would Ed Mitchell be giving Pepe a diamond ring? Okay, jewelry was Ed's business, but wouldn't they conduct a transaction like this in his store?

  She had to hustle as she saw the men make their way toward the back door. How would she explain being there? She didn't mind running into Ed, but she wasn't prepared to deal with Pepe again. She raced for a shed that stood behind the restaurant. It was open; she went inside and crouched down. From what she could tell, the shed was used to store catering
needs like large platters, a cappuccino maker, extra plates and…a wig. What? A wig? Michaela picked up the long blonde wig. Strange. She set it back down again and listened as Ed and Pepe walked to the parking lot, still laughing.

  "My wife and I loved what you did for our last party. You've got a knack for this, and when we open up the restaurant in Palm Springs, your business will only grow."

  "I thank you for investing in this with me. This will be good, Ed. And I plan to have my daughter helping out in this restaurant here while Mario and I get the other one off the ground, now that she isn't so distracted by…other things. My apologies for that. I know Juliet was hurt by that incident with Sterling."

  "The good news is that neither of us have to worry about Sterling Taber being a problem for us or our daughters again."

  "This is true." Pepe laughed. "Is the Realtor meeting us at the restaurant?"

  "Yes. She should be there before us. We better get a move on." With that, both men climbed inside Ed's Mercedes and zipped away as Michaela picked her jaw up off the ground.

  ELEVEN

  MICHAELA REMAINED IN HER STUPOR ON THE drive home. The question running through her mind was the obvious: Did Ed Mitchell and Pepe Sorvino have something to do with Sterling's murder? Neither one of them was upset by his death, that was for sure. What was the ring all about? And the restaurant in Palm Springs? Were they going into business together? It seemed like an odd pairing to her, but Ed was a good businessman and Sorvino's was a profitable restaurant. Oh boy, did she need to talk to Joe—someone whom she could tell everything she'd heard, seen, experienced. Maybe he could help her sort through this. She called his house and got voice mail, then tried his cell with the same result.

  A wave of exhaustion hit her and she felt like she was on autopilot for the rest of the drive home. What she needed to do was think, and the best place to do that was on a trail ride.

  She parked over by the barn and went into her office, where she kept an extra pair of riding jeans and boots. Moments later, she had Rocky hooked up to the cross-ties. She groomed him faster than usual, hoping not to have anyone notice that she was back. She needed a game plan and she didn't need anyone clouding her mind with their own thoughts.

  Once up on her sorrel gelding, she and Rocky headed out onto the trails behind her ranch. Passing by the pasture that in the future she prayed would be home to champions, she sighed and breathed in the fresh air. The sun was beginning to set and its brightness cast shadows across the boulders on the mountainside. Rocky stepped out, seeming to appreciate being able to stretch his legs as much as she was to be free and away from the insanity. Much of the time her riding skills and that of her horses were expressed inside the arena, but there was nothing like getting out on the trail to remind a person exactly what the meaning of freedom was. Freedom. The clean, dry air perfumed by chaparral and the earthen floor. The sweet songs of larks here and there. She might even spot a predator bird looking for his prey; a hawk, or on occasion a golden eagle, soared on by. She sighed and gave Rocky a pat as she leaned slightly out of the saddle and forward while he worked to climb up the mountain's crest.

  But what if her freedom were suddenly ripped out from underneath her? It had been, briefly…and what if it got worse? What if Joe's cousin couldn't remedy things as he'd insisted he could? She didn't see how any of this was simply going to resolve itself. She had to tell Peters what she'd overheard while in the shed behind Sorvino's. But what did it mean? She again analyzed what she'd seen and heard. Neither one had actually said that they'd done away with Sterling. They were pleased he wouldn't be a problem anymore. So, if she went and explained this to Peters, what would his likely reaction be? Probably the detective would do nothing. Ed Mitchell was well known and a bigwig in town, one of the wealthiest. The last thing the police would want to do would be to rock the boat with one of the movers and shakers. And Michaela still couldn't see Ed as a murderer…still, what about what Sterling had told Camden, about being afraid of Ed? That was weird, too, because Michaela couldn't see Sterling being intimidated by anyone.

  She knew she still needed more information, and talking to Lucia was a must. She decided to make a mental list of all the players and see what her brain could turn up. She knew that Robert might have a motive and it was possible that he'd had time, unless he'd been with his wife when Sterling was killed. Then there was Zach and the way he'd looked after Sterling; the vibes coming from him were nothing short of hatred. Oh, and Lance Watkins. Sterling had been rude and disrespectful to Lance. And, Erin Hornersberg—the makeup artist with an attitude—who definitely was not happy with Sterling. Her strange behavior last night in the parking lot bothered Michaela. What about Sterling's pal Tommy Liggett? She knew Tommy, but not well. What was the old saying—keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Right now it looked as if that was what Zach was doing—for what reason she didn't know, but what if Tommy had a reason, too? They always hung out together. At the very least, she'd need to talk to Tommy since he was Sterling's best friend. Maybe he'd know what had been going on with Lucia and why she would lie about Michaela and Sterling.

  And Camden: She hadn't killed Sterling; she'd only slept with him. Michaela squeezed her hands tight around the reins. Rocky sensed her stress and sped up due to her shift in the saddle. "I'm sorry, bud. It's not you. Definitely not you."

  They reached the top of the mountain and stopped. Michaela got off the horse to let him rest. She rubbed his face and he nuzzled her shoulder, his weight nearly throwing her off balance. "Hey, easy buddy."

  She looked down across the vista spread below her, peppered with small ranches and homes—some plush and green with horses in their pastures. A few were weathered, aged, and in need of attention, but the landscape gave her a sense of security. This was her home—where she'd grown up, and knew people. It was where she belonged. She lingered there, taking it in, but knowing she should get back. She realized that to get through this she was going to need to suck it up and move forward. Typically, moving forward would've meant that she would work with her students, exercise her horses, and manage her ranch. Now, forward meant unraveling a murder mystery.

  Another thought weighing her down was Jude. She didn't want him to come home to this mess. She should've gone with him and Katie on this cruise. He'd asked, but the timing had not been good.

  Only a few days earlier—last Friday—Jude had taken her to dinner. They'd sat out on the patio at the restaurant eating shrimp cocktails and each having a glass of wine. The sun was setting, reflecting a myriad of colors across the desert sky, and candlelight flickered in the tea lights on the table.

  The evening had been romantic from the get-go. Jude had shown up with a dozen red roses in one hand and a dozen pink ones in the other. Then he'd taken her to a gourmet restaurant, and she'd figured that she was pretty much being swept off her feet.

  He had leaned across the table and taken her hand. "I wish you could go with me and Katie on this cruise."

  "I wish I could go, too."

  "Then come with us. Please. I'll pay for everything. Come on. You deserve a break. And Katie would love it. This is her week off with year-round school, and we've been looking forward to this for months. It would be over the top for her if you came along."

  He smiled his devilish smile, which made her heart skip a beat. His smile and the way his skin around his blue eyes crinkled got under her skin in a very good way. She sighed. "You know I can't. I have the charity match and we're opening the store. I couldn't skip out on all of that. Plus I have kids to teach. It would be irresponsible."

  "For once in your life, you should try on irresponsibility for size."

  She laughed. "Sure. Come on, you know I would go if I could."

  "I know. I understand. Next time though." He shook his head.

  Jude had been right, because if she'd for once hadn't been so responsible she wouldn't be in this mess. She climbed back up on Rocky and they eased on down the mountain. She didn't know where things we
re headed with Jude, and now she was more uncertain than ever. Not because she didn't have feelings for him, but because she was in a hell of a lot of trouble, and she was concerned how he might react. Maybe that was the real reason she wasn't picking up the phone to call him. This wasn't her first rodeo. She'd found herself in the midst of murder and mayhem in the past and she really wished she could lead a quiet, simple life.

  Ah, so much for simple. As she rode onto her property she knew simple didn't exist. Ethan's truck stood out front, and the last thing he represented in her life was simple.

  TWELVE

  NORMALLY MICHAELA WOULD BE HAPPY TO SEE his truck parked in front of her house. But not this evening. Ethan was waiting for her in the stable office, and he had Josh with him. Michaela spotted him before he saw her. He'd set Josh down on a blanket with some toys and was bending down, wiping something off the baby's face.

  She decided to bite the bullet. Ethan never stopped by without a reason any longer. Michaela was pretty sure that Summer was behind that. Back in the day, Ethan would pop in after a long day of work and they'd have a beer together. They'd talk about his cases for the day and how her training sessions had gone. They'd known each other since they were three, and the comfort level between them was both intimate and special. Not many people had the kind of friendship that she and Ethan did. "Hey look, it's my favorite boys."

  "Mick, what is going on?"

  "You've heard."

  "Heard? It's all over the news. You and Sterling Taber? I thought you were dating that detective—Jude."

  "I am! You don't believe that crap? What, do you think I killed him, too?"

  "No, of course not." He walked over and put his arms around her. She sank into him, leaning her head on his chest. "What are we going to do?" he asked.

  "We? We don't have to do anything. I have to find out who killed him."

  "That's the cops' job."

  "You would think, but I am apparently the prime suspect and from everything I can tell, the cops have zeroed in on me and think they have the killer."