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MURDER AT THE PIER (A Sister Sleuths Mystery Book 1)

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by Rayna Morgan




  MURDER AT THE PIER

  A Sister Sleuths Mystery

  Book 1

  RAYNA MORGAN

  Copyright Notice

  Copyright © 2016 by Rayna Morgan

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2016 by Morgan Publishing Group

  Table of contents

  Copyright Notice

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter One

  Lea and the dogs started the day in the doghouse. The only way to get out was to promise Paul that their sleuthing escapades were over. But could she keep that promise?

  The answer came that night in the form of the dead body the dogs found under the Pier.

  * * *

  Paul walked into the kitchen. The border collie crept into a corner, covering her right eye with a paw.

  "You're not the only one who should be hiding this morning," he scolded.

  "Surely you aren't referring to me," Lea laughed, following her husband into the kitchen. Trailing her hand across his shoulders, she reached behind him for the coffee pot.

  "It's hard to be upset with this little dog," he mumbled, looking down at the sleek body of gold and white fur, steely black eyes, and pointed ears. He turned back to his wife. "You and your sister are another story. You could have gotten yourselves or this dog hurt last night."

  Lea filled her husband's coffee mug. "At least we discovered the source of the ghosts in Mrs. Allen's house."

  "I'm sure our neighbor will be eternally grateful," he scoffed, "but you two agreeing to stake out her back yard all night could have resulted in consequences you didn’t plan on."

  “But it didn't. And I learned something from our efforts."

  "What would that be?"

  "Intruders come in all shapes and sizes."

  "Thanks to you, I'm sure our neighbor will sleep much better tonight. Living alone makes her nervous enough without being spooked by noises at night. But since you and your sister have taken up this new interest in sleuthing, my sleeping habits haven't improved.” He added cream to his coffee. “With Mrs. Allen’s penchant for gossip, the entire neighborhood will hear about your detecting skills. You’ll be famous or should I say infamous?"

  "Just be thankful I didn't have Spirit with us." Lea glanced at the white golden retriever lounging on the patio. "At least Gracie had the sense not to attack the skunk. Spirit would have tried to play with the intruder and been sprayed from head to foot."

  "You mean because Spirit thinks every person and every animal he encounters is friendly and wants to play?"

  "Exactly why we didn't take him. His investigative skills are a little lacking, and I don't think the breed name is even applicable in his case. Spirit couldn't retrieve his own shadow following him."

  "It’s alright, boy, your sweetness more than makes up." Paul scratched the long, floppy ears of the dog that had entered the kitchen upon hearing his name.

  Lea's lower lip protruded in a pout. "I'll admit we probably only got rid of Mrs. Allen's culprit because he was more afraid of Gracie than she was of him."

  "It hardly ranks you and Maddy with Sherlock and the other great detectives."

  Hearing his name, the black and gray striped cat twisted his neck. "He's not talking about you, Sherlock. Go back to sleep," Lea laughed.

  "So maybe we'll have a little peace and quiet tonight?"

  "You have nothing to worry about," Lea assured her husband. "Maddy and I have limited our sleuthing to four-legged intruders."

  "Let's keep it that way," Paul suggested.

  "Anything special on your agenda today?"

  "I'm meeting with a client this afternoon about the recent burglaries at construction sites. He wants to know what security measures he should take so his sites don't get hit."

  Paul's consulting business included advising clients on all aspects of commercial real estate including development, leasing, and management. Security and related staffing issues fell under the venue of site maintenance.

  Lea frowned. "I saw it on the news. The press has dubbed them the Construction Site Burglars. It's a bad business alright. What did the reporter say, five places hit already? It's fortunate nobody's been hurt."

  Paul nodded. "The reason my client is worried. He's not only afraid of losing a lot of valuable equipment but of putting his security personnel in harm's way trying to protect his properties."

  Lea leaned over to stroke Gracie's head. "What are you recommending?"

  "A number of things can be done. I'm doing a physical inspection of his sites this morning to see what's lacking. In fact, I better get a move on if I want to visit all of them before I meet with him later today."

  "I hope for your client's sake the police catch the culprits soon." She added an afterthought: "Be sure to let him know if he needs an employee safety manual, I'm available to produce one."

  As a freelance business writer, Lea prepared employee handbooks, marketing brochures, proposals, and shareholder reports for her clients. She also wrote speeches and advertising copy as needed.

  "Don't worry. I plug my brilliant wife's skills at every opportunity." He flashed the smile that still melted Lea's heart after so many years of marriage.

  "Will Tom be coming over after the game?" she asked.

  Their close friend, Tom Elliot, head of the Major Crime Detective Unit of the Buena Viaje Police Department, had earned his reputation as a smart, conscientious, hard-working officer; respected and well-liked by the men and women he supervised.

  Lea was referring to their Monday night routine of Tom joining them for dinner after Paul and Tom played softball with the local league. Divorced, Tom always welcomed a respite from frozen or fast food, his typical fare.

  "I don't know if he'll make the game. He's had his hands full with the burglaries the last couple of days. From what he told me yesterday, they're no closer to catching the perpetrators."

  “I’d never think of a construction site being the location of a crime. What's Tom told you about the burglaries?" Lea inquired, trying to show as little interest as possible.

  “According to him, construction site burglary is a growing problem." Paul stuffed papers into his briefcase. "Offenders have different motivations. Amateurs take building materials for use in their own houses: plywood, pavers, or ladders. Professional thieves take property they can sell in an unregulated second-hand market: appliances, doors, and windows. Insiders may be more likely to take heavy equipment which takes more skill or effort to remove."

  "What's the extent of losses in these burglaries?"

  "Apparently billions of dollars worth of materials and equipment are stolen every year. Indirect expenses include job delays and higher insurance premiums. Unfortunately, those losses are passed on to home buyers, resulting in increased prices."

 
"I can understand why they've got every available officer working the case but if Tom has to work tonight and can't make the game," she mocked, "won't it be a little hard for your team to win without the star hitter?"

  Paul winced, grabbing his sunglasses and heading for the door. "I'll do my best to cover the gap."

  He yelled up the stairs. “I’m leaving if you want a ride to school, Jon.”

  “Two minutes, Dad.”

  Handing Paul the car keys he was looking for, Lea said: "If Tom comes for dinner, he can give us the latest news on the burglaries."

  "Don't even think about it, Lea. Even though you and your sister . . . and your dogs," he added, looking directly at the canines, "love to play at sleuthing, you can all keep your noses out of this one. It's too dangerous. The biggest concern of the police right now is the perpetrators seem to be getting more aggressive with each incident. No one's been hurt yet and no weapons have been used, but the police are afraid that will be the next step since most of the owners of construction sites, including my clients, have beefed up their security."

  "Don't worry," she assured him, tossing her long, copper-colored hair. "I've got enough on my plate right now to keep me plenty busy. I have no time for distractions."

  She watched their tall, gangly son come running down the stairs, backpack bouncing. A freshman in high school, he was experiencing such a growth spurt she hardly knew who would emerge from his bedroom each morning. He grabbed the toast she had ready giving her a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom. See you later.”

  “Have a good day, you two.” Lea answered her buzzing cell phone, waving Paul and Jon out the door.

  "Hey, Sis, hope you were up."

  "Of course. Enjoying my second cup of coffee with the dogs before I start work."

  Getting a call from Maddy this early in the day was unusual. "Are you at the furniture store already?"

  Her sister worked as an interior design consultant and salesperson at one of the local furniture stores.

  "No, I'm off today. I switched shifts with one of the other salespeople who had a wedding to attend." Maddy's voice raised an octave. "But we've already had some excitement around here."

  Lea perked up. "What's going on?"

  "Have you heard about the Construction Site Burglars?"

  "Paul and I were just discussing them. He's gone to a meeting with a client concerned enough with the burglaries to implement additional security measures. Where did you hear about them?"

  "I stopped by Starbucks for a cup of coffee. The regular coffee clutch was nattering full speed with news of last night's break-in."

  Lea gasped. "It didn't happen in your neighborhood, did it? It would be a new modus operandi if the burglary was carried out in an area where people are living."

  "No, but it was right up the street at the site where they're building those condominiums . . . the project called Two Palms. Come on over; I'll tell you all about it. We could even go see where it happened," Maddy tempted, knowing Lea wouldn't be able to resist.

  Lea was the more reserved of the two sisters, the one who planned ahead and thought things through. Maddy was impulsive, spontaneous. She was also irresistible, with her exuberant personality. Ever since childhood, she had been able to talk her younger sister into any new adventure.

  In spite of the pile of work sitting on her desk, Lea's hesitation was brief. "Give me twenty minutes."

  Grabbing her purse as she headed for the back door, she called to Gracie: "Let's go, girl. Paul wouldn't be happy if he knew, but all we're going to do is take a look."

  * * *

  The familiar drive to Maddy’s was one of her favorites because it gave her a view of the ocean. Not a day passed without Lea admiring the small coastal town where they lived, bounded by houses climbing up the hill on one side and the Pacific Ocean on the other.

  When she and Paul moved to Buena Viaje to be closer to Paul’s aging parents, they appreciated the fact that although the town itself was small, access to a major metropolitan area was within an hour’s drive. Initially, Lea commuted on crowded freeways to get to the corporate offices where she was employed. Now she worked from home and days of facing bumper to bumper traffic were a thing of the past.

  It was hard for her to believe how the countryside had changed as she observed more agricultural land being readied for construction.

  For years, much of the acreage surrounding the city had been planted in citrus trees. Many of the landowners participated in a preservation program which required retaining the land in agriculture in exchange for a reduction in property taxes. In recent years, those contracts had been expiring. More and more of the land was being sold to developers anxious to build homes and shopping centers for a populace willing to endure longer and longer commutes into the crowded metropolis in order to provide their families with a healthier, more relaxed living environment.

  Exiting the freeway and turning onto the two-lane street leading to Maddy’s neighborhood, Lea observed the Two Palms project being built on a parcel previously covered with orange trees. The day the builder had ordered the heavy machinery crews to tear out the citrus trees, Maddy and Lea had watched from the corner restaurant, sipping wine and lamenting the loss of more undeveloped land.

  As she drove past, she saw a police car and other vehicles including a local news van parked at the site. Several people were milling around including someone holding a large video camera propped on his shoulder. A reporter was holding a microphone in front of a man Lea recognized to be the local Chief of Police.

  Lea hoped Maddy’s coffee klatch would have answers to the questions the Police Chief was being asked.

  Chapter Two

  Seagate, the small residential area where Maddy lived, was built on what was formerly marshland between the Pier and the Harbor. The state-owned Seagate Beach didn’t get as many tourists as beaches near the downtown area.

  The neighborhood was originally a hodge-podge of rental dwellings, weekend cottages, and vacant lots. Over years of successive real estate booms, it became a fashionable but eclectic mix of newer homes and older beach cottages. The previous lack of building restrictions had left Seagate with widely varying architectural styles and a spotty retail area.

  There were several restaurants a short walk from Maddy’s house but they were subject to seasonal fluctuations. The smaller ones unable to sustain enough business during the winter months went out of business.

  There wasn't much traffic in the area, but the streets were narrow making parking difficult. Her sister’s cottage was on one of the lanes leading directly to the beach.

  Turning into the second driveway on Fuchsia Lane, Lea saw her sister pruning rose bushes in her front yard. The sun reflected off the honey blond highlights in the woman's long brown hair.

  "Your flowers are stupendous," Lea noted, lowering the tailgate for Gracie. "I'm envious." Her sister had inherited an undeniable green thumb, as well as dazzling hazel eyes, from their father.

  Maddy turned to embrace the dog. "Hey, Gracie. How's our partner in crime, or should I say crime prevention? Have you recovered from our little adventure last night?"

  The dog wagged her tail eagerly in response. Leading the way inside, the border collie began searching for the tennis ball Maddy typically hid for her. She checked eagerly in all the suspect places: behind the potted plant, under the rug, between the floor pillows.

  Setting a water bowl on the floor, Maddy laughed. "You'll have to work harder than that this time."

  Gracie happily accepted the challenge, pursuing it doggedly while Maddy turned her conversation to Lea.

  "So here's the latest gossip. The couple who live at the entrance to the neighborhood heard noise at the construction site last night around midnight. Typically, the Johnstons, along with the rest of us, would have been sound asleep by midnight. We're all early to bed, early to rise here," Maddy noted, filling ice tea glasses as she continued. "When Mr. Johnston walked outside and looked in the direction of the nois
e, he saw flashlights toward the back of the site and heard a man shouting. There was no sign of the security guard who’s usually in the construction trailer parked at the front. Deciding to err on the side of caution, he called the police and reported a possible burglary in progress."

  "That was intuitive. I would have made the mistake of thinking the activity was a delivery of materials to the site or there was some other plausible explanation."

  "Me, too, except for the lateness of the hour. When the police arrived, they found the security guard on the floor of the trailer, wrists and ankles bound with masking tape. There were obvious signs of a break-in but no sign of the burglars."

  Lea's eyes widened. "How much did they get?"

  "We won't know until we hear the news report but from the amount of activity there all morning, the loss must have been significant."

  Lea glanced at Gracie, ears pointed, listening intently to Maddy's narration as she chewed on a slobbery tennis ball. "I see you discovered the hiding place, girl. Obviously not as difficult to find as Maddy thought it would be."

  "It's her natural sleuthing skills. Between her nose and her instincts, she always finds what she's after. Too bad the police can't use her to catch those burglars."

  "I wish we could find out more. I'm sure the police are keeping any outsiders away for now," Lea added, disappointed.

  "Probably, but I've got a better idea." Maddy's eyes sparkled. "Let's go see Maria at the donut shop. She knows everything that goes on around here. If there's any new information, you can count on Maria to know what it is."

  "Good idea. We'll meet you there." Gracie jumped up, excited to be included in another escapade.

  * * *

  Lea drove through Seagate to the strip shopping center behind the gas station on the corner. Maria's Donut Shop was between the bank and the convenience store at the end of the center. It was a small store with four wooden tables inside and two tables with umbrellas in front.

  Parking her car, Lea realized how fortuitous their timing had been. When they passed the construction site, the news van was nowhere in sight. Now, here it was, in front of Maria's.

 

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