The Michaela Bancroft Mysteries 1-3

by Michele Scott

  "I'm only curious as to what a twenty-six-year-old hotshot polo player has in common with a what, twenty-year-old chef's daughter? Wait, maybe Sterling started to feel the same way and blew you off, so you killed him. Now you're trying to cover your tracks by making up stories about me. Maybe you're not as dumb as you look. You got into my office, you used my mallet, and now you can tell everyone I was sleeping with him. I think you need to start talking."

  "Get out! I told you to get the hell out of here! Papa! Mario!" she screamed.

  "The cops may be fooled by your big green eyes and crazy lies, but I'm no fool. And when your family sees you for who you are…well, I think you've got yourself in some hot water."

  The door flew open and Pepe Sorvino thundered into the office, nearly knocking Michaela over. "You get outta here. We don't want you here."

  "Thank you, Papa, she was harassing me. She scared me."

  "Harassing you? Oh my God. You are one lying little—" Michaela blurted.

  "Out!" Pepe screamed.

  "Fine. I'll leave, but I am going to find out why you're lying about me, Lucia. And if it's what I think the reason is, your life will be turned upside down like you've done to mine."

  "Go!"

  "I will find out what you're hiding." Michaela turned on her heel, nearly running into Mario Sorvino.

  Mario followed Michaela to the front door until she turned to him and said, "I'm leaving."

  "Hey, between you and me, that prick deserved what he got."

  "What?"

  "Yeah. Taber. Man was nothing but trouble," Mario said.

  "Really? And you knew him?" Her hands shook.

  "Who didn't know him? Hotshot dude, come in here and never pay his tab. I wasn't surprised that someone killed him." Mario crossed his arms. "I want to give you some advice. You may want to be careful around my sister and my father. They got hot tempers. I'm only letting you know."

  "Mario!" Pepe approached the front door.

  He winked at her and retreated into the restaurant. "Be careful, Michaela. It's that simple. Be careful."

  She got back into her truck feeling as if the Sorvino family had more ties to Sterling Taber than just Lucia Sorvino being his friend, and that Mario Sorvino was more than making small talk with her. If she was right, Mario had subtly threatened her with the "stay away from my father and sister" line. And he'd already warned her about making threats toward his family. She couldn't help wondering how Mario Sorvino tied into this and if she was spot-on when she'd told Lucia that maybe her big brother had done away with Sterling to protect her. He seemed the type to do something like that. And how about running into him right after finding Sterling dead on the office floor? He was on the kitchen staff. He had had the opportunity.

  Did he also have motive?

  FIFTEEN

  WHY WOULD PEPE'S SON EVEN COME AFTER Michaela? What was his point? She would have to see what Joe might find out about the Sorvinos' ties with Sterling, but right now she had another stop to make. Her stomach sank as she parked her truck next to the stalls at the polo fields. This was not a conversation she wanted to have, but it was necessary. She had every intention to fess up to reading the invoice that had caught her eye and confront Robert Nightingale about it. This was her life she was dealing with and there were some obvious issues between him and Sterling.

  She tapped on the office door, which swung open almost immediately. To Michaela's surprise Paige, Robert's sweet but eccentric wife, answered the door. Her eyes looked red, as if she'd been crying. Michaela noticed that the back of her hand had a smudge of black, likely from mascara that she'd wiped off her tearstained face. Paige tried to smile, her brown eyes taking Michaela in. She had cropped blonde hair, which framed her round face. She was on the heavy side and tended to wear drapey, flowy kinds of clothing. Today she had on a purple billowy blouse and black pants.

  "Oh, Michaela, hello. Did you come for a lesson?"

  Had Paige been the only one to not hear that Michaela was a murder suspect? "No. I wanted to talk to Robert. About Sterling."

  "He's not here." She sniffled. "I don't know where he is or when he'll be back. I don't know if he's coming back." She started to cry. "Oh yes, Sterling. Oh dear, I'm sorry that you're having so many troubles over his murder. Goodness knows you would never do such a thing. It's just so horrible. An outrage."

  Michaela took a step back. Whoa, this was unexpected. "I'm okay. I'm sure that this will all work out and the police will get to the bottom of it."

  "It's not that. It's not you."

  Now Michaela was really confused. "Oh, okay. Um…"

  "Oh no, I don't mean to sound insensitive, but of course the police will exonerate you, it's not that, it's…" She wiped her tears and sat down on the sofa. "Nothing. Nothing at all. How selfish of me to carry on when you're obviously having problems of your own. Forgive me."

  "You don't need to apologize, Paige. What's wrong?"

  "Nothing. Nothing." Paige looked up at her, the tears starting again.

  "People don't cry over nothing." Michaela reached into her purse and dug through it. She knew she had tissues somewhere in her bag. She found a packet and handed one to Paige.

  The woman blew her nose. "Robert is leaving me. Actually, he's left me."

  "What?"

  Paige shrugged. "I don't know. I really don't know."

  Michaela sat down next to her. "Do you want to talk?" She didn't know Paige all that well, but she couldn't leave her here like this.

  Paige put her face in her hands. "I've lost so much in the last few years. First Justin, and now this with Robert, and of course Sterling."

  "Sterling? You were close with him?" Michaela now felt certain by the way Paige was talking that it had been her who'd hurried away from the polo field grounds after getting out of Sterling's car.

  "Oh, yes. He was Justin's best friend."

  "Justin? I'm sorry, Paige; I don't know what you're talking about."

  "We don't talk about it much. Only people in our small circle ever even whisper about it. I hear them sometimes and see the looks on their faces. The ones that say they feel sorry for me."

  Michaela suddenly understood. Paige was talking about her son, who'd been killed in a car accident. She'd never known his name, but she'd heard about the tragedy.

  Paige blew her nose. "Justin was our son. I'm sure you know that he died five years ago in a drunk-driving accident after a party. He'd had too much to drink and hit a tree. He was twenty."

  "Oh, I am so sorry. I had heard, but I knew it wasn't something to ever discuss with you."

  "I know, dear. It's kind of an unspoken rule that no one talks about it, but it's not my rule. Robert won't talk about it. People tiptoe around him all the time. I think he's lost it. He left me a note this morning that said we were through and he was leaving."

  "And you don't know why?"

  "I have an idea. It has to do with Sterling." She started to cry again.

  Michaela waited patiently for a few seconds and then asked her, "What about Sterling?"

  "Robert found out that I have been giving him money."

  She would have to be careful here. Paige was giving Sterling money? Odd. From everything that she had ascertained about the man, he appeared to have plenty of money of his own and he was doing just fine with that, along with the money he earned with his modeling gigs. "Um, I hate to pry, but why would you give Sterling money?"

  Paige smiled, her eyes reflecting nothing but sadness. "I told you that Sterling had been Justin's best friend. It was how Sterling started riding polo. Justin got him into it. And yes, he does come from a wealthy family in Santa Barbara, but they recently stopped providing him with money. Not the kind of money he needed to live on, anyway. I think he'd gotten himself into debt by overextending. He had been receiving twenty thousand dollars a month from his family and then they cut that in half. You can imagine how difficult that would be if you're used to having more."

  How much did he need? Ten thousa
nd dollars a month for a single guy sure sounded like plenty. "Why did the family decide to do that? Do you know?"

  Paige shook her head. "He wouldn't talk about it. He said that it was too painful. All I know is that last summer he went back home, then he returned, and within a few months his family had sort of disowned him. And, because he was a link to my son, I didn't want him to suffer."

  "You became a mother to him."

  "Yes. He filled the gap in my heart that was missing my son…and now they're both gone!"

  "Robert didn't feel the same way about Sterling as you did?" Michaela assumed this.

  "No. He liked Sterling fine, but I think he might've blamed him for Justin's death. They were at the party together and Robert feels that Sterling should have stopped him from driving home that night. But Sterling was with a date and claims he didn't realize that Justin was intoxicated."

  "Did Robert tell you that he blamed Sterling?"

  "No."

  "Oh. So you were giving Sterling money? I assume that Robert didn't know about it?"

  "Not until Sterling told him."

  "He told him?"

  "Yes. Sterling was not paying Robert for the training and boarding bills here. I went to talk with him about it. I explained that the money I'd been giving him was from an insurance policy that we had on Justin and that he needed to use the money to pay Robert, and for his rent and education."

  That must have been what Michaela witnessed between the two of them the other day. Paige had tried talking to Sterling about this. "I didn't know he was going to school."

  "He was taking acting classes. It was his dream to be an actor and he would've been wonderful at it. He promised me that he'd get caught up with his bills with Robert. He went to talk to Robert. Things heated up, I guess, and Sterling lost it and told him that it didn't matter that he owed him money. Sterling laughed at Robert and told him where the money was coming from. Robert was so upset. He came to me and asked me what I'd been doing. I told him. I explained that Sterling was like a son to me and that I was trying to help him. I got him to calm down after a bit. Sterling had auditioned for a play and had promised to pay me back because he'd gotten the part. Robert was still angry, but not as much. Then this morning I found the letter. I guess he changed his mind."

  Michaela was more than confused. This would take some time to digest. Sterling had played poor Paige. He was an actor. She felt sorry for the woman on so many levels.

  She stood and tried to see if the invoice she'd spotted on Robert's desk was still there. It wasn't. She sighed.

  "I'm sorry to have rambled on. I shouldn't have troubled you," Paige said.

  "No. Not at all. I'm glad I was here for you." She put a hand on Paige's shoulder.

  Paige nodded. Michaela said that she had to go, as she had a riding lesson to give. She walked out of the office, her brain twisted in frustration, for she had no real clue as to what had just taken place, or the significance of any of it. But if working around animals had taught her one thing, it was that trusting your intuition usually meant that you were on the right track. Her intuition told her that Sterling Taber had maintained some interesting and complicated relationships, and that more than one person had reasons to want him dead.

  SIXTEEN

  MICHAELA NEEDED A BREATHER AND HAD ABOUT an hour before she had to be back home to give a riding lesson to Joe's little girl. Thank God that Joey believed in her innocence and had no plans of removing Gen from the riding center.

  She walked down the stalls at the polo field to say hi to Rebel. Someone had moved the horse and at first she couldn't find her. She'd been moved all the way down to the end of the row. The bay mare walked over to her as soon as she called to her from the other side of the barred stall. "Hi, gorgeous, how are you today? Tell you what, I've been better. Why'd they move you down here?"

  The horse's ears popped forward and she stared at Michaela as if she were listening intently. The beautiful thing about these animals was that they provided total and complete therapy, and all for no money down. Well, that wasn't entirely true when you broke down board, feed, and training, not to mention show fees, vet bills, horseshoeing bills, etc. No, hardly free, but they were really good listeners.

  Michaela opened Rebel's stall door and slid through. She stroked the mare's neck and scratched under her chin, which made her toss her head about. The chin was typically sensitive and the scratching caused Rebel to bare her teeth with her top lip turned up, as if she were smiling or laughing at Michaela. "Oh, so you find my woes amusing. Wish you could talk; bet you know something about all the strangeness that goes on around here."

  She continued to pet the horse. She rounded behind the animal and saw that her back leg had been wrapped. That was not unusual. Horses acquired cuts and scrapes at times that caused the grooms to have to treat the superficial wounds and then wrap them to keep the flies away and prevent the area from getting infected.

  Michaela noticed that the wrap was partially off. She bent down and rewrapped it, uncovering a fairly deep cut. Looked as if maybe she'd rubbed up against something sharp. Kind of like what had happened with Lance Watkins's dapple gray gelding. Rebel had probably gotten the scrape in the other stall and that was why she'd been moved. Michaela retightened the binding. As she started to stand, something shiny caught her eye. She bent back down and brushed away the shavings to get a better look. She stared for a moment as her mind registered what it was. Then she picked it up. Oh, wow! Someone would be looking for this: a tennis bracelet. Each diamond had to be a carat and had obviously cost someone a lot of money. She started to stand when she heard voices in the corridor.

  Juliet Mitchell sat astride her chestnut gelding, and Zach Holden walked next to them. Neither noticed Michaela. "You did good out there," Zach said. "All you need is to relax. He can tell that you're tense." He gave the horse a firm pat on the neck. Michaela was about to step out of the stall and say hello.

  "Tense! Of course I'm tense! How the hell could I not be stressed out?"

  Michaela shrank back inside the stall. Maybe now wasn't the best time to reveal herself. She'd never heard Juliet so…edgy. The girl was always well mannered, typically soft-spoken, definitely upper crest. It was possible that, like her father, the young woman had a hot temper hidden beneath her polished exterior.

  "Think about it, Zach." She slid off her horse. "We have to get that letter out of Sterling's apartment. Do you know if the crime scene tape has come down?"

  Oh boy. This was mighty interesting. No way was Michaela going to announce her presence now. What were these two talking about? A letter? What letter? She ducked back down, the bracelet gripped in her hand.

  "I don't know why you even sent him that. What was the purpose?"

  "Look, I know it was stupid. Really stupid." She started to cry. "I don't even know if it's there anymore. I had to send it to him. I was scared of him and I thought that was the best way to get him to leave me alone. I tried to send an e-mail but I thought a letter would be more final, more to the point. I had no idea it would wind up like this."

  "It's okay. I understand. It has to still be at his place. You mailed it on Friday? Maybe he hadn't gotten it by Saturday. Or maybe he didn't read the letter. It might still be in his mailbox."

  Michaela watched the two through the stall bars.

  "What if the police find it? The things that I wrote in there…it was bad, Zach."

  "The police are focused on Michaela Bancroft."

  Michaela bit down hard on her lip.

  "We both know she didn't do it," Juliet replied.

  "But until we get that letter, we have to let the police think what they want. We can't tell them anything. It will ruin your life, our life, and so many others in your family."

  "It feels wrong."

  "I know," Zach said. "But we can't afford not to be protective right now. Not until we know for sure. And then we can decide what to do."

  Michaela watched as he pulled Juliet into him. "You didn't do a
nything wrong."

  Juliet nodded. Zach lifted her face up and kissed her. "We'll get through this together."

  Get through what together? Michaela had no idea what they were up to. She started to sink down lower in the stall as she saw Zach turn her way.

  "I promise it's going to be okay, Jules. Trust me." He smiled and brushed a piece of hair out of her face. She smiled back at him and nodded. "Look, I've got to check on Rebel. One of the grooms said she had a cut on her leg. Hang on. I know she likes to try and pull her wraps off."

  Rebel. Rebel! Oh shit, he was coming into Rebel's stall. As he approached, Michaela lifted her head. Zach jumped back.

  "Oh hey," she said. "Didn't know anyone was here." She knew she didn't sound very convincing. "I came to visit Rebel and saw that she had a gash on her leg. Silly mare had her wrap off. I redid it."

  "Oh. Yeah, I was going to check on her. Gosh, we've been here for a little bit." Zach glanced back at Juliet, who had a wide-eyed look on her. "You didn't hear us?"

  "No. I didn't. I was bent over treating the horse, and you know, I've been having sinus problems lately. My ears seem clogged. I don't know…" She shrugged. "Maybe allergies." Michaela was fairly certain that neither Zach nor Juliet were buying her story. "I'd better go." She slipped out the stall door. "I've got a lot going on, you know."

  "Yeah, sorry about all that. We heard. We know you're not a killer." He frowned.

  "No I'm not. You two have a good day." Michaela walked quickly out of there. She knew she wasn't a killer, but after overhearing those two chat, she wasn't so sure that either one of them couldn't have murdered Sterling.

  SEVENTEEN

  MICHAELA DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO MAKE OF Zach and Juliet's conversation. What were those two hiding? Of all the gall for Zach to say that it was okay for the cops to focus on Michaela when they both knew she hadn't killed Sterling. They were so certain about it, too, and yet they didn't really know her all that well. She was pretty sure that, upon first impression, she didn't come across as a homicidal maniac. But, were they so certain for some other reason that she hadn't killed Sterling? Was it because one of them had done it? She recalled Juliet stumbling out onto the stage and appearing flushed at the time and apparently not knowing where Sterling was. It had surprised Camden. What did they not know for sure? What did those two have to make decisions about?