MURDER AT THE PIER (A Sister Sleuths Mystery Book 1) (3 page)

"As a matter of fact, I just got off the phone with
Tom. Since we're playing the early game, he won't be able to break away from
the station in time. He'll try to come for dinner about seven-thirty but no
guarantees. I should be home and cleaned up by then."

Lea pulled vegetables from the bin to clean. "Glad to
hear it. I don't think he's getting many home cooked meals since he and Linda
have gone their separate ways."

"I'm sure he misses Linda's gourmet cooking but from
the way he talks, it's all he misses of their relationship."

"Men," she scoffed. "See you soon. Good luck
with your game."

After feeding the animals, Lea walked into the living room
in time to watch the early edition of the news. The Police Chief, dressed in
the freshly starched uniform she had seen him in that morning, made his appeal
to the public.

"Please keep your eyes open around any construction
sites, either residential or commercial. Report any suspicious activity."

"Are certain sites more likely to be hit?" the
reporter asked.

"Single family houses, especially those which are
somewhat isolated, make good targets because there's less chance of neighbors
or passersby seeing or hearing a burglar. Any properties without fencing are
asking for trouble. Appliances delivered to a site before locking doors and
windows are installed present a timing opportunity savvy burglars watch
for."

"If someone sees something suspicious, how should they
react?"

"In no instance should you approach anyone you believe
is engaged in illegal activity. We've been fortunate so far no one has been
hurt, but these things have a nasty way of escalating. Make the right move and
call for help if you see anything or anyone you believe is out of place in your
neighborhood."

Lea sighed. "If the Chief has been effective in asking
the public for help, Tom will be plenty busy. We won't be seeing him for
dinner, and we'll be eating leftovers tomorrow night."

Lea was right in her prediction of her and Paul eating
alone. She was wrapping up leftovers when her cell phone rang.

  "Hope I'm not disturbing you," Mrs. Allen
began.

Calls from Mrs. Allen are almost always disturbing
.

"Not at all. I hope you’re not having more intruders."

 "No; thanks to you, my house is quiet but after all
the trouble I put you through last night, I’m calling because I don’t want to
be an alarmist. I'd like to run something by you before calling the
police."

Interest piqued, Lea walked out to the back yard so Paul
couldn’t overhear. "What's going on?"

"I was at the grocery store and decided to take a
little drive around the neighborhood on the way home.”

 
She doesn’t have the reputation as the neighborhood busybody
for no reason
.

“I was close to where they're building the two-story
Spanish Colonial by the pond. Do you know the house? Red roof tiles and a
turret."

"Unfortunately, I know it only too well. Our snoopy
cat Sherlock has been there several times in the last couple of weeks. He seems
to like foraging in the tiles and drywall on the site. He also loves high
places. Since they haven't installed any windows or doors in the house yet,
he's been able to climb all the way to the turret to check out the view. I saw
him sitting up there a couple of days ago when I took the dogs for a
walk."

"I was a block away from it when I saw lights inside
the house. Like flashlight beams," she clarified, "in an upstairs
room. Neither the builder nor the owner would be there this time of night. I
wouldn't have thought much about it except for the recent news reports on the
burglaries."

"Did you call the police?"

"No, I was afraid I was overreacting and shouldn't
waste their time."

“I don't think that would be the case. I saw the Police
Chief interviewed on the news tonight encouraging people to call in any
suspicious activity they see. From his description of likely targets, that
house might be prone to a break-in."

"There's no fencing around the property," Mrs.
Allen agreed, "which would allow for easy access."

"Tell you what. I was getting ready to take Gracie and
Spirit for their evening stroll. We'll go for a ride instead and see if there
appears to be anything going on."

"Don't put yourself at risk," her neighbor
warned.

"Don't worry. We'll keep our distance. The dogs will detect
scents from quite a ways off and alert me. If they seem to be reacting, I'll
call it in. You won't have to worry about sending up a false alarm."

"Thank you, Lea. Call and let me know what you find to
put my mind at ease before I turn in."

"No problem. I'll get my super sleuths right on
it," Lea laughed, ringing off.

She walked into the living room where Paul was watching a
basketball game. She explained where she was going as she put halters on the
dogs. Without taking his eyes off the television screen, Paul asked: “Don’t you
think you’ve wasted enough time playing detective for Mrs. Allen?”

  "We won't get any closer than a block away. Besides,
she’s probably overreacting like everyone else in town right now. These
burglaries have everyone on edge. I'll call you as soon as we head back
home," she assured him.

Jon came through the front door in time to see his mother
getting the dogs ready to go somewhere. "Wherever you’re off to, can I go?
I finished my homework at Michael's house."

"Not this time." Without disclosing any concern
about possible danger, Lea offered a distraction to discourage her son from
joining them. "Your dad’s making popcorn at half-time if you want to watch
the rest of the game."

"Sounds good." Jon licked his lips and patted his
stomach.

By the time Lea got the dogs into the car, Paul and Jon
were hollering at the screen, Paul’s concern for his wife’s safety all but
forgotten

* * *

Lea wondered if Paul was
right. Was she going against her better judgment driving to the site? At least
there was an empty field between the house and the end of the street allowing
them to keep their distance.

Nevertheless, getting out of the car at the corner to get a
better view, her heart skipped a beat. Mrs. Allen was right: t
here were lights in the house. A black van was parked in
the driveway with the loading doors open. Her neighbor was right about
something else: it wouldn't be the owners of the house visiting at this time of
night in the dark.

"Hurry up, Miguel," a
voice hollered. "We're done here. We'll be late for the meet."

"Come on guys, we're out of
here, too," Lea summoned the dogs. Hearing the urgency in his master’s
voice, Spirit stopped rooted to the spot, but Gracie's instincts kicked in. She
went racing toward the site, barking loudly.

The commotion aroused an
instantaneous reaction. Two hooded figures came running out of the house,
glancing frantically in all directions before racing to the van. Not bothering
to secure the back doors, one jumped in the driver's seat and revved the engine
while the other jumped into the passenger side.

"No, Spirit," Lea yelled, seeing Spirit join his
sister racing for the back of the van. "Come back, Gracie."

The retriever hesitated between seeing the back doors of
the van flying open in front of him and hearing his master's voice. But the
strength of the border collie's hind legs propelled her easily into the back of
the van as the vehicle leaped to life weaving crazily down the street. The last
thing Lea saw as the van swerved around the corner was Gracie struggling to
keep her balance in the back of the careening vehicle.

"Come, Spirit, now," she yelled with authority,
sliding behind the wheel of her car and simultaneously opening the other door.
The dog jumped into the car and Lea took off in pursuit, hitting the speed dial
button on her phone.

"Paul, call Tom at the station right away. Something
terrible has happened." They were in a residential neighborhood but Lea
was driving as fast as she dared in pursuit of the speeding van. "As Mrs.
Allen feared, there was a burglary in progress at the house. Two men stormed
out when Gracie ran over barking and took off. They were in such a hurry, they
didn't close the back doors of their van and she jumped into it."

"Oh, no," Paul moaned. "Don't tell me you're
chasing them."

"What choice do I have? I've got to get off the phone.
Call Tom right away. Tell him it's a late model, black, Nissan van headed
toward the Pier on Beach Boulevard. I'll call back when I can."

Paul’s hands fumbled on the keypad as he dialed Tom's
direct line at the police station.

"Tom Elliot," he heard the voice say, glad it
wasn't a recording. "How may I be of assistance?"

"Thank goodness, it's you and not your voice
mail." He quickly explained the situation exactly as Lea had related it.

"Okay, Paul." Tom switched into the reassuring
mode he adopted when handling people in desperate situations. "We're on
it. I'll take another squad car with me. Don't worry; we'll find them. The van
is probably headed for one of the freeway on-ramps to get out of the area as
fast as they can. I'll alert highway patrol units all along the highway. They
won't get far."

"Thanks, Tom. Please have Lea call as soon as you've
located them."

"Of course," the Detective replied, cutting the
call off and putting his game plan into action. Grabbing his jacket, he ran
toward the parking lot.

* * *

As Lea waited impatiently
for the street light to turn green, she thought how grateful she was Jon hadn't
come with her. I could use another set of eyes to keep the van in sight, but
this is hardly the kind of adventure I want my son to be part of.

The moment the light turned, Lea flattened the gas pedal,
throwing Spirit back against the seat. "Sorry, big guy, but I don't have
time to stop to put your seat belt on."

Spirit dug his claws into the car seat and held on for dear
life, all the time staring straight ahead in the direction where Gracie had
gone.

If I'm right about these guys wanting to get out of Buena
Viaje as fast as possible, there's only one route that will give them access to
the freeway headed north. Under the overpass to the frontage road running
parallel to Main Street.

"They'll have four or five stop lights before they hit
the freeway," Lea reasoned aloud. "If Tom got Paul’s call about my
needing help, he'll be thinking the same thing. Hopefully, he's already on his
way to intercept them."

Spirit cocked his head listening attentively without
averting his eyes from the road.

The fact there were few cars on the street was to Lea's
advantage. Thank heavens, Buena Viaje is usually wrapped up tight by ten
o'clock at night.

But just as she sensed she might be closing the gap, a
motorcycle roared around her, forcing her to jam on the brakes as the light
turned red. Lea's hands were sweating as she gripped the wheel. Come on, come
on, come on. Time seemed to be standing still and the van was nowhere in sight.

Gunning the engine again before the light changed, her
heart dropped as she realized how close they were to the Pier and the last
intersection before the freeway access.

"I'm afraid we've lost them, Spirit. I guess I was
wrong in my theory about their escape route."

She rounded the curve and drove toward the parking lot at
the Pier. That's when she saw it. The lights shone on a single vehicle in the
otherwise empty lot: the black van parked at a hasty angle. She swerved the car
into the lot so fast Spirit was pitched across the seat, landing against the
door.

Lea was so happy to see the van she lost all sense of
caution. Almost before the car had rolled to a complete stop, she jumped out
leaving Spirit behind barking anxiously. Approaching what appeared to be an
empty vehicle, she could see the front doors were wide open leaving the
interior lights on. There was no one inside.

The back doors were closed. She walked toward them with
great apprehension until she heard the familiar sound of Gracie's barking.
Throwing the doors open, she suddenly found herself on the pavement with
seventy pounds of dog on top of her, licking her face.

"Okay, girl, you're safe now," she laughed, throwing
her arms around the dog. “Thank goodness, you're safe. Let's go get your
brother before he breaks through the car window."

With Spirit circling Gracie licking her mouth to show her
how happy he was to see her, Lea reached for her phone. In the middle of
telling a greatly relieved Paul that she found Gracie and would be heading
home, she heard a cacophony of dog wailing coming from under the Pier. Heading
toward the noise, Lea expressed exasperation: "I'm ending the call, babe.
The dogs are raising a ruckus over something. Let me round them up so I can get
out of here."

Lea walked along the Promenade leading to the old wooden
structure. The Pier was a favorite attraction for fishing, picnics, and views
of the coastline and Islands, but she was in no mood to enjoy the view. She
felt impatient crossing the beach as her shoes began filling with sand, certain
the dogs had found a dead seagull or leftover hot dog to scuffle over.

Discovering the cause of their agitation, she wasted no
time punching Tom's number in her cell phone.

"Where the heck are you, Lea? We've been up and down
the frontage road. No sign of the van."

"I found the van abandoned in the parking lot at the
Pier. Gracie was safe in the back."

"Darn it. I'm glad you and Gracie are safe but I hate
losing those guys."

"Sorry to tell you, Tom, but the burglars escaping isn’t
your biggest problem."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean Gracie and Spirit just found a dead body under
the Pier."

* * *

By the time Lea got the
dogs settled in the car, Tom had arrived. Even as she related to Tom exactly
how she found the abandoned van and the dead body, the parking lot began
filling with police cars and other vehicles. Before they finished their
conversation, a team of crime scene personnel had begun to search the scene and
collect evidence. Another officer cordoned off the area with yellow cones.

"You better hang around long enough to let them get your
fingerprints, Lea. They'll be taking all the prints they can get off the van.
Yours will show up because you opened the back doors to let Gracie out. Then
you can go home. I'm sure Paul's worried sick. Stop by the station tomorrow to
sign a statement detailing what you told me."

Lea ran her fingers through her long hair tucking it behind
her ears. "What a night. The first dead body I've ever found; I hope it
will be the last. At least you'll have a witness if you catch those burglars,
or should I call them murderers?"

"That's the first thing I
need to figure out. Whether or not these crimes were committed by the same
perpetrator. Was the victim meeting the burglars and got into a confrontation
that ended in them killing him? Or was he already dead when they arrived?"

"Too bad your witness can't
tell us what the burglars did."

Tom scratched his head.
"What witness are you talking about, Lea?"

"The four-legged one in the
back of the van. At least she'll let you know if she ever sees . . . or smells
. . . those guys again."

Tom smiled, looking over to where Gracie sat in the car
with her head hanging out the window. "Unfortunately, her identification
wouldn't hold up in a court of law, but it will sure let me know if I've found
the right guys."

The Detective turned to the man approaching him.
"We've identified your vic, Tom," the coroner reported.
"Driver's license in his wallet says he's Neal Henderson.
Age twenty-eight.
Local address."