Read Murder & The Monkey Band: High Desert Cozy Mystery Series Online
Authors: Dianne Harman
MURDER & THE MONKEY BAND
By
Dianne Harman
(A High Desert Cozy
Mystery Series - Book 1)
Copyright © 2015 Dianne
Harman
All rights reserved,
including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form
without written permission except for the use of brief quotations embodied in
critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely
coincidental.
Website, Interior & Cover design
by
Vivek Rajan Vivek
Paperback ISBN: 978-1517381004
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As I write this I think
what an adventure this last year has been and none of it would have happened
without you, my loyal readers. I was drinking coffee in bed at a resort in
Arizona when I jotted down a few ideas for a cozy mystery that had come to me in
the middle of the night. When I returned home, I decided to write a book in
that genre. That was the birth of Kelly’s Koffee Shop. People kept telling me
they wanted to read more about Mike and Kelly, so I began writing more books
and called it the Cedar Bay Cozy Mystery Series.
I was curious what would
happen if I started a different series, and so I wrote Murder in Cottage #6,
the first of the Liz Lucas Cozy Mystery Series. Several years ago I worked as
an antique appraiser, and I decided to write a book with an antique appraiser
as an amateur sleuth set in the community of High Desert, outside of Palm
Springs. This book is the first in my new High Desert Cozy Mystery Series.
I’ve never had so much
fun, and there are a few people I need to thank for making it possible. First
of all you, my readers, for following me, reading my books, and even contacting
me with suggestions. Secondly, my husband Tom, who makes it easy for me to
write by taking care of all the things that need to be done around the house. And
of course, my cover artist and formatter, Vivek Rajan. It’s interesting that
I’ve never met him or talked to him, yet I consider him to be a friend. This is
an Internet relationship, and I rather doubt we will ever meet, but I credit
him for creating the fabulous book covers that make my work look good.
My family has been so
supportive. I love it when I pick up my six year old granddaughter from school
to take her to tap dance class and she regales me with a new Puppy Story (the
name of the book she wants me to write). They always start out the same way:
It
was a long, long time ago in 1956
. I have yet to figure out why she’s
chosen that year!
Again, thank you all for
making this time of my life so wonderful!
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Table of Contents
Marty Morgan stood in the courtyard
of the walled-in housing compound and marveled once again at how lucky her
sister had been to find this enchanting place to live in the remote California
desert town of High Desert. The peace and tranquility of the desert was a
soothing elixir for Marty considering what she’d been through during the past
year. Becoming a permanent resident of the laid back community of High Desert,
population 7,000, was just what she needed. It provided lots of time for her to
relax and concentrate on restarting her career as an art and antique appraiser.
While the town was small and only the most essential goods and services were
available, the well-known cosmopolitan California desert golfing mecca of Palm
Springs was only twenty miles away.
It had been an interesting
year for Marty. When her sister Laura had called telling Marty she had a
premonition that Marty and Scott were getting divorced, she was reminded once
again that Laura had what some called a psychic gift. Even when they were kids
Laura would tell Marty about things that were going to happen in the future,
like the time she’d foreseen great-aunt Ruth’s death. It happened so often
Marty took it for granted. It was only after they’d been apart for many years
that she realized the enormity of Laura’s powerful psychic abilities.
Marty remembered when
Laura had been a student at UCLA, and she was asked to take part in a
paranormal study conducted by the psychology department. She’d been subjected
to numerous tests, and when the testing was finished the psychology department
determined Laura had a very high level of psychic abilities which simply
couldn’t be explained. They told her she possessed what was commonly called a
“sixth sense.”
During the telephone call
with Laura, Marty confirmed what Laura already knew, that she and Scott were
getting divorced. Laura insisted Marty move from her home in the Midwest to the
little town of High Desert where Laura made her home. Laura told her one of the
houses in the compound she owned was going to be available in two weeks, and
she was sure she could get Marty some antique appraisal referrals through the
insurance company where she worked. Marty didn’t need to think twice about the
offer. She knew she could no longer live in the small Midwest town that had
been her home for the past twenty-five years.
Marty was shocked and
dismayed when Scott confessed to her he was having an affair with his
secretary, and he wanted a divorce, so he could marry her. He’d given Marty a
large monetary settlement and agreed to pay her monthly alimony. She knew it
was guilt money, but she felt she deserved it for probably having been the
laughingstock of the little town where they lived. Now she understood why so
many conversations had come to an abrupt halt when she walked into a local
shop. She knew they were talking about the affair and the pending divorce. The
little town didn’t have many scandals, and Scott’s affair with his secretary
had provided the residents with a lot of fodder. Marty was certain she was the
only one in the town who hadn’t known about his infidelity.
She’d lived in the High
Desert compound now for almost nine months. One of the residents, John
Anderson, owned a fire engine red food truck called The Red Pony which he drove
daily into Palm Springs. It had become a popular destination for office workers
in downtown Palm Springs to go for lunch. John was an excellent chef, and the
entrees he sold from the truck were delicious. When he returned to the compound
each day in the late afternoon, the truck was almost always sold out of food.
He eagerly sought out people who were willing to try his new dishes before he
put them on The Red Pony menu, and Marty was always the first one to raise her
hand when he asked for volunteers.
Max Samuels was John’s
assistant cook and kitchen helper. Although he didn’t live in the compound, he
joined the residents for dinner at the compound almost every night. John liked
to have him there to help with the new dishes he planned to put on the food
truck’s menu. When Max helped prepare the new dishes, it really cut down on the
instructions John had to give him when they were filling customer’s orders. Max
was what a lot of people would call a “redneck.” He’d lived in the small desert
town all his life. There wasn’t much work available in town, and Max would
never have made it working in the big city of Palm Springs. His country
language and lack of social graces would have been major stumbling blocks for
him in a city known for its sophisticated and wealthy residents. Being the
assistant cook in a food truck was the perfect occupation for him.
Les Richardson was the
fourth compound resident. He was Laura’s long-time boyfriend and an artist
well-known to the gallery owners in Palm Springs. He far preferred the small town
residents of High Desert to the “beautiful people” who came to Palm Springs to
play golf and brag about their condominiums in the desert when they returned
home, although he certainly wasn’t averse to them taking one of his paintings
with them.
As Marty looked around the
compound, her senses fully appreciated what someone had the foresight to build
many years earlier. Four small two bedroom houses, built very close to each
other, formed a square around a central courtyard. The compound was surrounded
on all sides by a rock wall constructed from local volcanic rock.
A large tree that was
located in the middle of the courtyard was covered with hundreds of twinkling
lights. At night it provided a magical setting along with the lanterns which
Laura lit every evening at dusk. Marty had grown to love the muted lights of
Palm Springs in the distance and the mauve desert sunsets. A picnic table was
situated in the compound, and most of the evening meals were eaten there.
Another table was used by the four residents for newspapers, mail, and the food
that John cooked, so he could serve it buffet style when he chose to. Even
though each of the housing units consisted of separate free-standing house,
there was a communal feel to the compound, and the four residents who lived
there had grown to truly care for one another.
John’s home had been
upgraded with a state-of-the-art kitchen, and Les had a large airy,
light-filled room which he used as his art studio. When Marty had taken up
residence in the compound, about the only things she’d brought with her besides
her personal effects were reference books dealing with art and antiques. She’d
made the second bedroom in her home into a library/office. She didn’t want any
reminders of Scott, so she let him keep all the furniture and furnishings
they’d accrued during their twenty-five year marriage.
With a smile on her face,
Marty looked at the big black Lab she’d bought when she’d arrived in High
Desert. She’d needed something that was just hers and Duke, the little Labrador
puppy she’d fallen in love with at the animal shelter, had been perfect for
her. They’d bonded from the first moment she’d looked into his big brown eyes.
Everyone in the compound knew if they saw Duke, Marty had to be nearby. He
never left her side, and when she was gone, his eyes never left the road he
knew she would use when she returned. The other three residents of the compound
were equally enchanted with the friendly lab, and all of them kept a bowl of
dog treats handy for him when Marty was gone.
Marty couldn’t remember a
time she hadn’t been interested in art. Her first grade teacher had been amazed
at Marty’s art ability and had told her parents she loved art so much she could
probably benefit from art lessons. Her mother had found an artist who was willing
to work with the young girl, and for many years her parents had taken her twice
a week for art lessons with the well-known artist. In high school it was always
Marty who was in charge of anything art related, from the backdrops for school
plays to the posters for the car washes.
Her friends and family
assumed Marty would become an artist. She majored in art in college and then
abruptly in her sophomore year she changed her major to art history. Everyone
was shocked and asked her why. She always replied, “I just didn’t have the fire
in my belly to make it as an artist, simple as that.” She went on to get a
master’s degree in art history and took a job with an antique and fine art
auction house in Los Angeles. When she and Scott got married and moved to the
small Midwestern town, she decided to open an art and antique appraisal service
and over a period of time developed a thriving business in that area of the
state.
The insurance company
Laura worked for, Alliance Property and Casualty Company, specialized in
insuring personal property items such as art, antiques, jewelry, and other
types of high value personal property items. True to her word, Laura’s
insurance company had been able to refer business to her. Laura worked for a
man named Dick Cosner, and one of his jobs was to determine which of their
insureds needed to have their personal property items appraised. Many of
Alliance’s insureds were very wealthy and had brought some of that wealth to
the desert with them. They wanted their home in the desert to reflect their
wealth and economic status, and many of the homes were filled with antiques and
fine art. That was the main reason there were so many art and antique shops in
Palm Springs. Dick had referred a lot of business to Marty since she’d come to
the area, and she knew she was very fortunate to be able to have an in with an
insurance company who needed her services.
Dick Cosner had called
Marty earlier in the day and asked her to meet the following morning with the
son of a woman who had been murdered the week before. The woman’s son, Jim
Warren, had called Dick and told him he needed to have the contents of his
mother’s house appraised for probate. He said he didn’t think her Will would be
contested, but in case it was, he thought it would be wise to have everything
appraised. He knew his mother had gotten an insurance appraisal several years
earlier, and he wanted to get in touch with the person who had originally
appraised the items. Dick told him that person had left the area, but he highly
recommended an appraiser by the name of Marty Morgan, and that she’d been
appraising for many years and was very knowledgeable about the values that
needed to be established for estate purposes.
“Marty,” Dick had said
when he called earlier that day, “I’d like you to meet with Jim Warren at this
address tomorrow. His mother, Pam Jensen, died recently, actually she was
murdered, and she was one of our insureds. I don’t know the specifics, but I
seem to remember his mother mentioning there was bad blood between her children
and her husband’s daughter. It was a second marriage for both of them, and
evidently there was no amicable blending of the two families. Her husband,
Brian Jensen, owned a well-known restaurant in Palm Springs that became so
successful he opened a number of them throughout the world. I’m sure you’ve
heard of them. It’s the Mai Tai Mama’s chain. Anyway, he died a few months ago.
Brian was quite wealthy, and he and his wife had been married for almost
twenty-five years. I took a look at the appraisal that was done a few years
ago, and in addition to numerous antiques and fine art, she had one of the
finest collections of 18
th
century Meissen china in the world. It
should be an interesting appraisal. Let me know what you find out.”
“Will do, Dick, and thank
you so much for the referral. Sounds like something I’d enjoy. I’ve appraised a
number of Meissen pieces and to have a chance to appraise a top collection is a
once-in-a-lifetime thing for an appraiser. By the way, would it be okay with
you if Laura goes with me? To be honest, I’ve never done an appraisal when
someone has been murdered, and I’m a little spooked by it. This is a first for
me.”
“Sure, take your sister
with you. I’ll give her some paid time off from her work here at Alliance while
she’s helping you with the appraisal. You’ll do fine, but keep in mind the fact
that the owner of the property you’re going to appraise was murdered isn’t
relevant to the fair market value of the items. Remember that,” he said.
“Thanks. I will.”