Murder in Half Moon Bay, Book 1

  “People are out at all times during the night. Somebody probably saw the yellow tape and called the paper. Got a little something for the tip.” The chief sounded animated. “Well, Jillian, what do you want to see first?”

  He rolled his chair toward the metal cabinet and slipped out a fat manila folder.

  “Actually, I’d like the file on Mrs. Anatolia.”

  “Here.” He tossed me the folder and I caught it in the same haphazard manner as I’d caught the paper. The official papers and photos threatened to spill out into my lap. He must not be in good sorts this morning.

  I opened the file and almost wretched at the sight of the photograph. Katherine Anatolia’s drowned body lay sprawled out on the boat’s deck.

  The chief stood, and in an informal apology for his grumpiness, he gathered the rest of the file for me and offered me a seat behind his desk.

  “Be my guest. I have to follow up on a few messages, so take your time.”

  He left.

  Grateful for the solitude, I fearfully flipped through the pages, cringing at the new horrors each one brought before me.

  For Regina….

  I forced myself to continue the gruesome task and let out my breath when the next page seemed harmless. It was a photocopy of five receipts in her personal effects. Two of them were from the same establishment, and it had the peculiar name, “Venus Flytrap.”

  Hmm….

  I read on. Some handwritten notes indicated her previous involvement with the same company. She had worked for them, but the investigator had concluded the fact to be of little importance at the time.

  Nicole needed to know this. It might help her search. “Hurray for cell phones.”

  Funny how they came in handy occasionally. Just a year ago, I abhorred carrying one. I dialed her number.

  “Jillian, how are you?”

  “Oh, I’m fine, except that Spencer Hausman was murdered last night and whoever killed him knocked me down on their way out.”

  “I heard, Jillian, that’s awful. Are you all right?”

  “I’ll live. Listen, I need to know if you found anything out about that company called The Venus Flytrap in the Westovers’ records.”

  “I swear, you’re a mind reader. The company does exist, but there’s no information on what it is exactly.”

  “Nothing at all?”

  “Only its location. It’s listed at 385 Fedora Street in Half Moon Bay.”

  I jotted down the address. “Thanks. At least it’s something. Anything more on those articles Regina wrote?”

  “That took a bit of doing, but I looked up Spencer Hausman’s name in every gardening magazine for the last four years and did come up with something pretty significant.”

  “Good girl.”

  “Two articles. Both date back to two years ago. The first article is entitled, The Migration of Plant Spores in North America, and the other is, listen to this...Indigenous Spores of the Venus Flytrap!”

  “Bingo!” We’d just completed the outline of a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle. “Nicole, that’s great work.”

  She chuckled. “I was pretty pleased with it myself, but it’s only part of the story. Do the police have any idea who killed Spencer, yet?”

  “I don’t think they have a clue, really. Now, before we left for the Distillery the night Regina was murdered, you said that Spencer gambled. Could you find out who he owed money to and where he did his gambling?”

  “I’ll get on it right away. I’ve arranged to stay here for as long as it takes. Ann and Dominique have done the same.”

  “My goodness, Nicole! I really appreciate you all standing behind me in this.”

  “You couldn’t keep us away. This is too much fun.”

  “Well, good luck, and be careful.”

  “Talk to you soon.”

  The knob to the office door squeaked, signaling the chief’s return. He came in barking orders to his office staff and carrying a steaming cup of coffee.

  “Okay. Bye, Nicole”

  He set his cup on its customary coaster — coveting his forsaken throne, no doubt.

  I wasted no time telling him about Regina’s articles and The Venus Flytrap business. He grinned like a Cheshire cat, then leaned over me even further to see the copied receipts.

  “And all of these years, Venus Flytrap has been right under my nose.” He took up the paper, examined it and then smiled slyly. “I should put you ladies on salary.”

  I laughed.

  “We’ll check out the address.” He placed the paper back on his desk.

  “I could perhaps find out more if I could see Regina’s effects. After all, we got such a good lead from her mother’s notes.”

  The chief tapped on the window and motioned to Deputy Cortez, then pointed to a large cardboard box on the deputy’s desk. The deputy, reading the chief’s mind, smartly picked up the box and brought it right in.

  “Thanks, Cortez.”

  He nodded and exited to continued shuffling papers.

  The chief gazed at me squarely. “Jillian, I’ll be honest with you. We don’t have any leads on Regina’s death or Spencer Hausman’s, for that matter.” He sat and took a sip of his steaming coffee. “Put yourself in the murderer’s place for just a minute.”

  “Okay.” I sat back and folded my arms before I spoke.

  “If I were the murderer, I would either worry myself sick or be cocky and over confidant so that no one would suspect me. I suppose it depends on whether the murderer has a conscience.”

  The chief nodded. “You see how difficult it is?”

  He gestured to the box and smiled. “All right, you’re in the right mind set now. Have a gander.”

  One by one, I carefully lifted out the box’s contents. Regina’s clothes were all expensive, nothing but name brands — size six. “Pretty defenseless size.” Her underwear was lacy and sexy. “Pretty typical for her age.”

  “I suppose. My wife goes for more comfort in that area.” He grinned. “And this is her jewelry.”

  I studied a heavy gold earring, cradling it tenderly in my palm. Then there were two rings. One was a dinner ring clustered with diamonds and sapphires, and the other a large cameo set in gold. Inside a set of bracelets, an inscription read, “To Regina, All my love” but no name followed.

  I looked closer at the cameo and noticed a tiny latch on the side. “Look at this.” I handed it to him.

  Inside were bits of plant material concealed by a plastic coating.

  Alarmed, he grabbed it out of my hand.

  In excitement, I almost sputtered. “I know those! Those are plant spores. We need them analyzed.”

  “I’ll get the forensics lab on it right away.” He strutted purposefully to the phone. “The feds run one about an hour north of here. We can send it there and get it processed in a few hours if I pull a few strings.”

  He spoke into the phone. “Yes…Chief Frank Viscuglia, Half Moon Bay police here. I found something your agents may be interested in.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  My breakfast didn’t satisfy me very long, so I decided to stop by the coffee shop on Main Street and grab a pastry. Images of that cameo ring ran through my head. What could it mean… transporting something illegal?

  But why?

  Why was Regina in possession of plant spores? Someone looking for them could have murdered her, but why strangle her? That’s a crime of passion. No, they killed her out of anger, but the spores tied in somehow.

  I stared in a bit of a stupor, drinking my coffee and tasting the flaky cherry croissant. All of the twists and turns had my mind racing to keep up.

  Hugh stood in front of my table before I ever saw him coming.

  “Hello, Jillian. A million miles away, are we?” He grinned. “Mind if I join you?”

  Without any answer from me, he pulled out the extra chair and set his cinnamon roll and coffee on the table. I groped to snap out of it. Time to be normal for a minute.

  ?
??It’s nice to see you, Hugh.” Of course, I didn’t mean it. Thinking through the investigation was my preferred form of entertainment.

  “You’re out pretty early today. Doing some sightseeing?” His gaze searched my face.

  “I should be, I suppose. Actually I just visited the police station.” Could I have said something any more revealing? So much for discreet. Next time, I’d have a better answer for surprise questions.

  “That’s right. You found Spencer Hausman’s body, didn’t you?”

  “I did. Word travels fast.”

  After finishing the croissant, I cradled my mug in both hands.

  “Half Moon Bay’s a small town, Jillian.” He chuckled, and shook his head. “Everyone knows everyone’s business around here.”

  “I believe you.” Taking a chance, I decided to be blunt. “Hugh, why do you think Spencer was murdered?”

  I sipped my coffee innocently.

  Listen for a change, Jillian, and see what happens.

  Hugh sat back as well. He seemed to be considering. “I suppose you have to know Spencer’s background to understand why several people might want to see him dead.”

  “Several people?”

  Hugh took a forkful of cinnamon roll, drank some coffee, and then smiled. “To begin with, he was lonely. Right after he moved here, he volunteered to help Evelyn in the Society.

  “He wound up doing all the grunt work — work that no one else wanted to do. He lined up guest speakers and put out the newsletter pretty much all by himself.

  “The thing about Spencer that no one liked was his manner. He always made passes at the ladies, which offended, even though no one really took him seriously. I suppose knowing that, you could say Evelyn Westover, Celeste Osborne or Marianne Delacruz could have motive, although I hardly think they’d murder him for making a pass or two. Perhaps Thomas would defend Evelyn, but that seems unlikely as well.”

  “Aside from offended females, who else would want him dead?”

  Too forceful. Take it slow, Jillian.

  Hugh shifted in his chair, crossed his legs, and took another sip of coffee. “Spencer had a tainted past. He sort of slithered into Half Moon Bay and did a good selling job passing himself off as a business manager to Evelyn. He mentioned starting over several times to me, so he probably talked to others about it.”

  I had to ask. “Hugh, what was Spencer starting over from, did he ever mention that?”

  “He barely escaped going to prison.”

  “He confessed to that?” I was astounded.

  Hugh leaned into the table and looked around the room, then spoke quietly, “Someone ratted on him once, and he almost did time for it.”

  “Hugh, did he tell you what he was ratted on for?” I pressed for more.

  “I got the impression it was for mishandling of funds.”

  The $8,000. Finally!

  Now I just needed to understand how Marianne played into all of this. “Hugh, it’s been enlightening to say the least, but I really must be getting back to the hotel. Teddy needs attention, you know.”

  “I certainly understand, Jillian. I hope I was of some help.”

  “We’ll see, won’t we?”

  I went to take care of Teddy, called Dominique and arranged to meet her. We needed to tie up the connections between Marianne and Regina. Besides, I remembered after the ball Marianne had been asking for Spencer.

  Back at the hotel, Teddy stretched out his paws upon seeing me enter the room.

  “Hello, Teddy,” I greeted, stroking his fur and giving him a hug.

  He sat down on his haunches and cocked his head as if to ask, “Find out anything down at headquarters?”

  “I guess you could say that things are getting interesting. We found a cameo ring filled with plant matter, an address for The Venus Flytrap, expensive clothes and jewelry worn by Regina, and presumably the fact that Spencer Hausman had embezzled funds.”

  Teddy barked in approval.

  “Ready for some air, boy?”

  His wagging tail and perked up ears gave me an affirmative answer.

  “Let’s wait for Dominique and then we’ll go.”

  As if on cue, there was a knock at the door and sure enough, it was Dominique.

  “Come in.” I ushered her in and motioned for her to have a seat.

  “You sounded urgent, Jillian. I can’t believe someone murdered Spencer Hausman, too! Have you found out anything?”

  I told her everything I’d learned up to having coffee with Hugh. She hung on every word.

  “Why would someone kill Spencer Hausman unless he knew who killed Regina and they thought he might have gone to the police? I mean, if he embezzled money from the Westovers, you’d think they’d want to prosecute and get it back, not kill him.”

  I agreed. “It really doesn’t make sense. Unless Spencer was silenced for another reason.” I sat on the edge of the bed, my mind lost in thought.

  Snapping back to the present, I changed the subject. “Dominique, don’t you know someone who does research on plant spores or bio-terrorism?”

  “Yes, I do…a Dr. Nagera. Family friend.”

  “Can you get hold of him?” Almost shaking with a mixture of agitation and delight, I paced around the room, holding Teddy to calm my nerves.

  “Sure. My card file is back in my room. But…what shall I say to him? It seems a strange request, especially since we haven’t spoken for years.”

  “Don’t say a thing, I’ll do the talking.”

  “Fine with me.” She moved toward the door.

  “Would you get Ann and Nicole together and have them meet us for lunch?”

  “Sure, Jillian. Do you want to meet in the Club?”

  “Perfect. Let’s meet in an hour. Teddy needs a walk first.”

  She left, and Teddy and I headed downstairs.

  “We can’t take a very long walk now, sweet doggie.” We started down the path in the courtyard. “But I promise we’ll do a long one later on this evening.”

  Teddy whimpered as if to say, “Like I have a choice here?”

  Evelyn and Thomas whipped around the corner on their way inside. They practically ran us over, having been too engrossed in their close communication.

  “Oh, Jillian,” Thomas exclaimed, acting truly surprised to see me.

  In confusion, I tried to think of something to say. “I’m very sorry about Spencer. You have my condolences for losing such a valued employee.”

  Had I ever mouthed a sentence so contrived in my life?

  Evelyn interrupted whatever Thomas started to say in return. “It was quite a shock. Spencer shot, at our nursery!” She sounded more than sorrowful.

  “The police are still there looking for clues,” Thomas managed to say.

  Teddy politely pulled on his leash saying, “You might want to cut this short, if you know what I mean.”

  I wasn’t quite ready to depart. “I didn’t realize you were still here at the hotel. The chief only confined us to Half Moon Bay. You do live in Half Moon Bay, don’t you?”

  Thomas nodded. “We do. We’re checking out this morning. You must drop by sometime.”

  Evelyn pulled in a little breath through her nose at his invitation, but I seized upon it.

  “I understand you have a beautiful home. I’d love to see it and your gardens, but I wouldn’t want to impose....”

  That obviously hit a hot button with Evelyn at the mention of her gardens because she changed her attitude toward me immediately.

  “Our garden is lovely.” Her pride was obvious. “Some say it’s the finest in the Society, except for Celeste Osborne’s, which, of course, is so commercial.”

  I pushed for a commitment. “Would this afternoon be too soon? Just for a few minutes. I’m a little behind in my column for this week.”

  “Sure.” Thomas glanced at Evelyn, and they both smiled. “Shall we say three o’clock?”

  “I’ll look forward to it.” I tried to interpre
t the knowing expressions of these enigmatic people.

  We parted company, and Teddy led the way to the path leading toward the beach, grateful to leave them behind.

  “Must we go all the way down there, Teddy?”

  “Yip, yip.”

  “I’m glad your bark is delicate, Teddy, otherwise you’d be a naughty dog disturbing everyone.”

  He looked at me with an innocent air as if to say, “I only need to disturb you to get what I need.”

  I relented. “To the beach then.”

  The air chilled me, but the early morning fog had almost lifted. One other couple treaded ahead of us. From the way they held hands and looked into each other’s eyes, it was obvious that they loved each other passionately.

  My thoughts turned to Regina. Who had she been in love with? Whenever she was with Paul, she acted upset or serious. Was she hiding the fact that she loved him, and if so, why?

  She hadn’t spoken with any other men, except for Thomas Westover and Spencer Hausman. She might have talked to Hugh Porter, but I never observed them. Then, whenever she was with Thomas, Evelyn was always there.

  How would Evelyn react to The Venus Flytrap if I mentioned it?

  Hmm….

  I would definitely bring it up somehow at our meeting this afternoon.

  The couple in front of us stopped at the bottom of the steps and shared an affectionate little kiss. It reminded me of how my husband used to kiss me in the same sweet way.

  I shook my head and peered lovingly at my little four-legged companion who had wandered to the extent of his leash. He’d found some kelp to investigate.

  He did all the things dogs do, so we returned to the hotel. The crisp sea air had invigorated us both, giving new energy to me and tuckering Teddy out.

  “I’m going out to talk to a few people and I won’t be back for a while. You take a good long nap until I return. I’ve left you some toys by your dish in case you get bored, okay?”

  Teddy looked at me with his large brown eyes and blinked a “thank you” at me.

  On my way out to see Mr. Anatolia again, Walter waved me down.

  “Mrs. Bradley!”

  “Hello, Walter. I’m glad to see you.” We walked over toward the front door and found a private place along the wall to talk.

  Walter looked around and made sure no one was listening. “Mrs. Bradley, I was driving home last night and I passed the Seaside Nursery just as a car drove away and the police arrived. Naturally, I stopped to find out what was going on.”