MURDER AT THE PIER (A Sister Sleuths Mystery Book 1) (13 page)

"Did Harold have any idea who interrupted their
conversation?"

"No. Harold knew so little of Neal's business; he
wouldn't have known what meeting Neal had. Considering the time of night it
occurred, it may have been a personal matter, but Liz wasn't aware of anyone Neal
had become involved with since breaking off his engagement."

"How did you and Lea happen to be talking with Liz
anyway?" The look he gave her would wither any suspect in his
interrogation room at the precinct.

"She happened to come into the furniture store to see
a new shipment of dining room pieces. . .”

"Happened to come in?”

". . . after I called her."

"Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" The
barely visible crow’s feet around Tom's eyes became more pronounced, a sure
sign he was not pleased.

"In case you forget, I was a little tied up,
literally."

Images of Maddy trussed with duct tape and thrown in the
back of the pickup truck came to mind. "By the way, have you heard any
more from the rancher who saved your hide?"

"Nope." Maddy flirted to get back in his good
graces. "Any particular reason for asking?"

"Just trying to keep you from getting hurt."

"Am I missing something here? That rancher, whose name
you very well know is Scott, kept me from being hurt."

"And as you very well know, Maddy, there are different
ways of getting hurt."

"Since when have you become my guardian angel?"
she asked, giving him a lopsided grin.

"There could never be enough hours in my day to keep
you out of harm's way, physically or emotionally," he winked, lightening
the moment. "I'm only suggesting you haven't dated seriously since your
divorce. I saw the way you looked at the cowboy. . . Scott. Like a damsel in
distress being rescued by a white knight. Remember, you were both in a highly
charged emotional situation."

He leaned forward. "Real life isn't like a fairy tale,
Maddy. Relationships are difficult. I'm not sure a man who experienced the
heartbreak he went through with his wife's death is the right person for you to
get involved with."

"I think you're reading too much into it."

"I doubt it. What makes me so good at my job is that
I'm always observant. I pay attention to the smallest details. It's what
enables me to draw conclusions others miss. I don't mind telling you, most of
the time, those conclusions are correct. I noticed his eyes and his body
language when he was around you. He's interested, Maddy."

He experienced an odd sense of disappointment when he saw
her eyes light up hearing about Scott's reaction to her.

"You know I haven't had any interest in dating since
that scuzzball Eric cheated on me and ended my visions of a once and forever
relationship."

"It's been five years. Maybe it's time for you to try
to find that kind of relationship again if that's what you're looking for. I'm
just not sure this is the guy who can give it to you."

"Who else would you suggest?"

Tom's stomach plunged. His pulse raced. He looked deep into
her eyes. "I don't know anyone I think is good enough for you."

Maddy tossed her long hair, feigning nonchalance.
"What a flattering response, Tom, but it's a cop out. I guess we'll just have
to see where things lead."

Her voice was cold as she stood and handed him the posters.
"Thanks again for your help."

"Thanks for the drinks and your tip about Neal's
visitor. Will you keep me informed if you and your sister find out anything
else?"

"No problem, Detective." Maddy walked out, her
fiery beauty drawing the attention of every man in the room.

Tom finished his beer, deep in deliberation.
Am I adding
fuel to Maddy's fire by allowing her to become further involved in the murder
case? Or is it a personal fire I just added fuel to?

Lea was scanning the
wall directory in the foyer of the City Hall building.

"What are you doing here? Official business or slumming?"
a familiar voice asked.

She spun around. "Hey, Tom. Good morning."

She placed a hand on his arm in greeting. "The City is
undertaking a public relations campaign to increase tourism. As an important
historical landmark, City Hall itself will be portrayed as one of the major
tourist attractions. I'm one of three people asked to submit a bid on the
project which will include creating brochures and other promotional
material."

"Good for you. That should be an interesting
assignment."

"Yes, I really hope I'm awarded the contract. I've got
a lot of good ideas. I'm anxious to get started."

It was her turn to question Tom: "I know you're not
slumming but surely you're not here about the murder?"

"Not specifically, but there may be a
connection." Tom took Lea's elbow, steering her out of the way of people
trying to see the directory. "Neal was always able to tell his ring of
burglars the best construction sites to hit. I'm thinking he may have had
inside knowledge about where to send them."

"Who at City Hall would have that kind of
information?"

"Anyone in the Planning Department. Applications for
Building Permits include descriptions of the project, size, and timing of
construction. With the right information, Neal could have determined what
materials and equipment were on site. It would have taken the guesswork out of
deciding which projects to hit to reap the biggest jackpots.

According to Ken Crosby, Don Carson had turned over all the
work he did with City Hall to Neal. Neal would have frequent contact with
people in the Planning Department. He may have persuaded someone there to pass
on information he needed. For a price, I'm sure."

"I can't imagine anyone who works for the City doing
such a thing."

"Most people have a price, Lea."

"You're getting too cynical, Tom. You sound like my
sister. She's become a lot more skeptical and suspicious since she was cheated
on.

Which reminds me . . . when I talked to her this morning, I
suggested the four of us have drinks tonight at the Shack. She said she'd be
busy. When I asked her plans, she admitted she didn't have any at the moment
but insisted she'd be busy anyway. Sounds like she doesn't want to see you. You
two have a difference of opinion, again?"

It wasn't unusual for Maddy and Tom, both strong-willed and
opinionated, to experience frequent issues of contention. It sometimes
presented a fractious dynamic to the relationship, similar to the way brothers
and sisters spar.

"I met her for drinks last night so she could give me
the news about Neal's late night office visitor. Thanks for that, by the
way."

He noticed the look of concern in Lea's expression.
"Don't worry; I won't divulge the source of my information to Paul."

"Thanks, Tom. You know how overly protective Paul can
be," she said, smiling weakly.

"Have you ever considered that with you and your
sister, there's reason for concern?"

"If that's the kind of thing you said to Maddy last
night, I can see why she doesn't want to see you," Lea laughed, moving
toward the elevator. "Gotta run. Talk to you later."

* * *

Lea's appointment
was with Councilwoman Margaret Patton. As a Board member of the Buena Viaje
Visitors and Convention Bureau, she was the point person representing the City
whom Lea would be dealing with if she won the bid.

Lea made it a practice to familiarize herself with
potential clients as part of the process of preparing a bid. To beat her
competition, she felt she not only had to have the best product at the most
reasonable price but she needed to present her proposal in a way that best
resonated with the person receiving the bid. Even before entering the
Councilwoman's office, Lea's research gave her the advantage of feeling like
she knew this woman.

Mrs. Patton had grown up in Chicago where her father worked
for the Federal government. Her parents divorced when she was five years old
and her father moved to Washington, D. C. Her mother continued to work as a
secretary in the government office where her parents had met. Even though her
father paid support, they struggled financially and never had the financial freedom
Margaret longed for. She envied her friends from wealthy families who were
given cars in high school and bought all the beautiful clothes they wanted.

Margaret hated the cold winters and the hot summers of the
Midwest. The day after her high school graduation she moved to California to
live with an aunt in Los Angeles. She paid her own way through the local junior
college and the state university by working for a catering company. She went
from being on the wait staff to the position of Catering Manager through
determination and hard work.

It was at an event her employer catered for a movie
producer where she met her husband, a prominent actor more than twice her age.
They married and had two children. When he retired from films, they built a
large home in the hills outside Buena Viaje. She had been elected to the City
Council three years ago and was known for her involvement in community events.

From her reputation, Lea anticipated a woman who was intelligent,
independent, and assertive. Good with the public on one hand, she was also
considered to be strong-willed, resolute, and determined. Detractors described
her as ruthless and calculating. They held the view there were no wasted
actions on the part of Mrs. Patton. Everything she did was done for a reason
and to her benefit.

Perhaps her ambition comes from her history of not
having all she wanted in her younger years. From outward appearances, she has
it all now but people who overcome deprivation in childhood often harbor a
subconscious fear of returning to the same condition.

* * *

"I
appreciate your giving me the opportunity to bid on this project, Mrs.
Patton."

"Call me Margaret, please," the woman responded cordially.
She sat erect behind an enormous mahogany desk that seemed excessive for a
woman of her diminutive stature.

Especially since there are no files, not even a single
sheet of paper on the desk. Only a laptop computer. Either she's compulsively
neat or this is a room where she holds meetings but does little work.

Impeccably dressed, makeup expertly applied, hair styled in
the latest fashion and nails manicured, the woman across from her made Lea feel
uncomfortably lacking in the elegance department.

"You do understand at least two other individuals or
firms are bidding on the project,” she said, her fingers drumming lightly but
continuously on the top of the desk.

Nodding, Lea asked for clarification on one point before
proceeding. "I know the last event in which the City was represented was
the Protect Our Marine Life charity event at the Fairgrounds. I'm familiar with
the firm who prepared the presentation for you. From my understanding, the
slide show they presented on behalf of the City was well received. May I ask
why you aren't using them again?"

"It’s true the press gave favorable reviews of the
City's presentation. Everyone at my table at the event made favorable comments.
Of course, I don't know how grand an endorsement that was," she added,
shrugging her shoulders. "The Mayor and the Planning Director were into
their third cocktail by the time the City's slide show was presented."

Margaret threw the next comment off as an aside but Lea's
ears perked up. "Neal and I were the only ones who paid much
attention."

"Neal Henderson?"

"Yes, Neal was there representing Don Carson's
company. I'm sure you're familiar with the County's largest developer?"
she asked in a manner Lea felt was slightly condescending.

"I didn't realize City officials and developers
socialize."

"The Mayor always sits at the front table. Charles
White, the Planning Director, was there as the Mayor's guest. I wasn't there as
a City Council member although the press reported it that way. I was seated
there because of the size of the donation my husband and I made to the charity.
Neal. . . Mr. Henderson . . . was at the table on behalf of Don Carson who has
always made a sizable contribution."

Lea's intuition was on high alert to discover more about
Margaret Patton's relationship with Neal Henderson. She hoped her next question
wouldn't sound too obvious. "How generous of you and Mr. Patton. What did
your husband think of the presentation?"

"Oh, Art wasn't there. He hates fundraisers. It
doesn't stop us from contributing to almost every one of them. The only one he
actually attends is the annual event to raise money for the local theatre.
Other than that, he writes the check and I make a personal appearance. I've had
more of those dinners than I care to remember."

Lea attempted again to get Margaret to talk about Neal.
"Speaking of Mr. Henderson, what a tragic . . ." but was cut off as
Margaret abruptly changed the topic of conversation.

"Yes, it was. But we've drifted off topic."

The Councilwoman clenched her hands in front of her and
leaned forwarded. "In answer to your question, yes, we were pleased with
the work done for us on that project. Nevertheless, we're required to receive
bids for every project paid for with City funds. Let me make it clear. We're
not required to award the contract to the lowest bid we receive but we do have
a budget to comply with. I outlined the terms including the maximum amount of
funding available for this project in the letter I sent requesting bids."

"Of course." Lea could sense pursuing further
questioning was ill-advised. Besides, she was not given the opportunity.

The Councilwoman rose to her feet, picking up the written
proposal Lea had placed on her desk. "I don't mean to be rude but I have a
lot of work to do. Your bid will be taken into consideration with the others
and you will be notified of our decision. Thank you for coming in."

Lea was impressed with this woman’s directness, an asset to
anyone with ambition. Mrs. Patton had come a long way. From a job as a catering
manager to loathing catered events. A long way, indeed.

* * *

Tom was still waiting to
see the Planning Director when he saw Lea descending the wide marble staircase.
Telling the woman at the front desk he would return momentarily, he moved to
catch her before she left the building.

"How did your meeting go? Did you knock 'em
dead?"

"It felt pretty good but you never know. Sometimes a
person has decided before you ever give them your proposal. They're only going
through the protocol, wasting my time. Hopefully, that's not the case here and
I have a real shot."

"You'll get it. You're the best." Tom was one of
Lea's biggest fans, not because she was married to his closest friend but
because she was intelligent, highly qualified, and a hard worker.

"You're an easy mark for a vote, Tom. All it takes is
one of my home-cooked meals. But I can tell you one thing," she said, becoming
more serious. "It would take something a lot more enticing than a home-cooked
meal to bribe the Councilwoman."

"Now who's talking bribery? Aren't you the one telling
me I'm cynical thinking anyone at City Hall could be bribed?"

"I'm not suggesting the Councilwoman could be bribed.
But she's one ambitious, motivated woman. I'd hate to be the one to stand in
her way when she makes up her mind to get something."

Tom's eyes narrowed. He looked at Lea intently.
"That's an interesting comment, especially coming from you. You're the
last person to criticize anyone."

"I'm not criticizing; merely observing." She lowered
her voice. "Would you like to hear another observation?"

"You bet." Tom leaned closer so they couldn't be
overheard.

"Mrs. Patton had feelings for Neal Henderson."

"How do you know?" Tom asked sharply.

"I don't know for a fact. It's only woman's intuition.
You don't have to listen. Paul hates when I use that instead of logic as the
basis for my reasoning."

"I'm a big believer in women's intuition. It’s helped
solve some of my toughest cases. Almost as reliable as Gracie letting me know
who the bad guys are."

He put an arm around her, giving her a hug. "I'm
especially glad to hear your instincts in this case because they jive
completely with my own."

Lea's eyes widened. "What makes you say that?"

"Remember the picture I showed you that I found in Neal's
condo?"

"Yes."

"There was another picture hidden behind it."

"So?"

"A picture of none other than the deceased and
Councilwoman Patton sharing a cocktail."

Lea waved a hand, dismissing his comment. "She knows Neal
from a business perspective because he was Don Carson's right-hand man. There
would have been occasions for them to have a drink together."

"In the hot tub on the balcony of his condo?"

* * *

Tom's visit to the
Planning Department was as unproductive as he predicted it would be. The
Director was not in and his attempt to obtain information from the staff was
fruitless. City personnel tended to close ranks when it came to outsiders,
especially those representing other official agencies. He knew without the
authorization of a warrant, he was unlikely to find anyone willing to be
forthcoming enough to confirm his suspicions.

But he had another weapon in his arsenal. He punched a
number on his cell and left a message asking Paul to meet him at the gym for a
workout.

He followed the wide circular staircase to the second
floor. Entering Councilwoman Patton's office, he flipped open his badge case
for the middle aged, gray haired woman sitting at the front desk. She
introduced herself, adding his card to other cards in a bowl beside her
computer. "Rosemary Hanson."