“He must have checked into another room then because, as of yesterday afternoon at five o’clock, Regina was checked into this one.”

  My mind raced back to the fragments of conversation I had heard. I promised myself I would write them down. “Chief, do you have the medical examiner’s report? What else have you found out?”

  “First question. The cause of death was due to strangulation.”

  I grabbed onto the desk beside me and looked to the floor. “What time did it happen — they can determine things like that can’t they?”

  He moved his head to one side and blinked once. Picking up the report lying on the bed he read aloud. “Time of death was between the hours of two and four this morning.”

  I let the time sink in, dumbfounded that a murder took place next door while I slept peacefully, even if it did take me until one o’clock to fall asleep.

  Coming back to the present, I had another thought. “Did anyone have to identify the body or was it taken for granted who she was?”

  He looked at me and laughed. “You just keep those wheels a turnin’ don’t you, Jillian?”

  “I just wondered who her next of kin was. I think she lived in Half Moon Bay.”

  “As a matter of fact, her father came down to the morgue and identified her. He was pretty shaken up.”

  “If they were close, he might have an idea of who would want to kill her.”

  “I asked him of course, as a matter of procedure, but all he said was he wasn’t surprised at all. He said, ‘Something like this was bound to happen sooner or later.’ Then he slowly walked out with his head down.”

  “Chief, I’d like to talk to him if it’s all right with you. Maybe I could find out what he meant.”

  “It’s a free country, Jillian. I think Mr. Anatolia is pretty benign. He works for a flower grower out on Highway 92. I have his address right here.” Taking out his notebook, he read off the address. I grabbed up the notepad provided by the hotel next to the phone.

  “Thanks. At least I feel like I’m doing something to help. Look at this room! Did you find it like this?” The bed was unmade, the covers dragged off to the side closest to the balcony. A lamp lay overturned on the floor, a long silk scarf across the chair next to the desk.

  The chief nodded.

  “It looks like she was strangled between the bed and the wall. Whoever did it must have dragged her body out this door and over the balcony railing.”

  “Why would the murderer bother to lift a heavy body and throw it over the balcony? I mean, the body was sure to be discovered much sooner than if they had just put the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door.”

  “From my experience, Jillian, a murderer isn’t thinking too clearly unless it was premeditated. It’s hard to tell in this case.”

  I walked over to the bed. “I suppose you’re checking for DNA from the bed.”

  “The thought did cross my mind, yes. We still have to process the room, so please don’t touch anything.” He laughed good-naturedly. “And, yes, we’ll check for fingerprints.”

  “Well, it sounds like all we have is the means. That leaves motive and opportunity. I suppose anyone could have been in her room at that time of the morning.”

  “I don’t think just anyone, Jillian.”

  “You mean you don’t think it was just she and a girlfriend hanging out, catching up on old times?”

  “I think that’s hardly likely. Of course, it could have been. But can you imagine a female strangling another female, then lifting the body and throwing it over a balcony?”

  Looking around the room, I noticed a briefcase on the floor underneath the desk.

  “Chief, when you dust for fingerprints, do you dust external surfaces only or absolutely everything?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Maybe it’s nothing, but maybe Regina had some books and papers inside that might be worth looking at.”

  “I’ll check it out.” He took a handkerchief from his back hip pocket and picked up the briefcase, preparatory to taking it with him.

  I put my forefinger on my chin. “Maybe it was a pretty angry female with a lot of jealous adrenaline.”

  The chief looked at me. He cocked his head to one side. “You really think that’s a possibility?”

  “Anything’s possible.”

  The chief looked at his watch and started for the door. “I’d better be going — lots of people to question.”

  “Would you mind if I tagged along? I won’t notice everything, but I’d like to hear everyone’s alibi. Maybe something I’ve heard already will connect somehow. May I, please?”

  The chief sighed heavily. “I suppose so. It can’t hurt, I guess. I am in charge. I’ll tell you what. I’ll interview everyone after lunch. It’s important to get their statements as soon as possible.

  “Listen, I really have to be going. Let’s say one o’clock in the small private dining room. The hotel has given me full run of the place. They want the killer caught as soon as possible.”

  “One o’clock, it is.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Teddy and I arrived back from a walk, and I slipped on the terry slippers provided by the hotel.

  Time for some notes. There was no way to remember all of this without an external brain of sorts.

  Taking a hotel tablet, pen in hand, I made entries:

  - Friday-11:00 a.m. Regina was in Spencer’s room — in bed together?

  - Paul Youngblood overheard to say, “Everything is ready. Tomorrow then?”

  - Friday-5:11 p.m. overheard a woman say, “I hate you,” and “I’ll kill you if you do.”

  - Regina said she didn’t get along with Spencer Hausman — he plagiarized her articles.

  - Spencer has a hold over her — what?

  - Paul Youngblood said Regina had a man in her life — who?

  - Celeste Osborne called Spencer Hausman a weasel — why?

  - Walter Montoya says $8,000 is missing from the nursery business — who took it and why?

  - Spencer Hausman worked for Thomas and Evelyn Westover.

  - Saturday-2:15 p.m. someone was in the room with Regina, laughing — a different person than the one she was yelling at?

  I put the notes in my purse feeling like Jessica Fletcher in a “Murder She Wrote” episode. Could this be real?

  I shivered involuntarily. Someone must have hated Regina a great deal to strangle her like that. Could it have been love...or love turned to hate?

  The chief said the entire hotel staff could account for their whereabouts at the time of the murder. There were no records of calls or room service from Regina’s room at that time of the morning. No one saw or heard anything unusual in the hallway or outside her window. There was no forced entry.

  Who would do such a thing? I wondered.

  Well, anymore thinking would have to wait. It was time to meet my garden club for lunch. Teddy was still fast asleep, so I brushed my hair, reapplied my lipstick, and walked down the long hallway toward the elevators. The door to one of them opened, and Hugh Porter stepped out.

  “Hello, Jillian, how are you holding up?” He clasped my arm.

  “I’m okay. Thanks for asking, Hugh.” Honestly, I was glad to have him there. Kindness and warmth emanated from him, and I simply couldn’t picture him strangling Regina and throwing her body over the balcony.

  No, not possible.

  Besides, Regina never gave Hugh the time of day. I wondered how well they knew each other.

  “Hugh,” I played it casually. “Did you know Regina very well?”

  Hugh removed his hand from my arm and looked straight into my eyes. “I knew Regina about as well as most of the conferees. The first time I even spoke to her was when I talked to her on the phone when she engaged me for this conference.”

  “So before that, you didn’t have any knowledge of her at all?”

  “Well, I knew who she was because I knew her parents through their nurs
ery business. But, like I said, I never actually met her.”

  “So you knew her father?”

  He glanced at his watch. “Jillian, I’m already ten minutes late for a luncheon engagement and I need something from my room. Let’s talk later. Let me know a good time for you. I must be going.”

  Walter, Jr. brought my Jeep around. He looked distracted. Mr. Ibarra had to speak to him twice in order to get his attention.

  “What’s wrong, Walter?” I felt sympathy for the young man’s obvious distress.

  “My father was fired, Mrs. Bradley.”

  “Listen, Walter. I can’t talk now, but I’ll go see him. Trust me, okay?”

  “Okay, Mrs. Bradley, but I think it’s too late for anyone to help.” He opened the car door for me, and I got in.

  “Don’t give up on me, Walter, and don’t give up on your father. It’s going to be okay.”

  Walter tightened his lips then looked down and nodded his head in agreement.

  People were standing in line to get in at the Distillery. Fortunately, my garden club already had a table overlooking the ocean. The server had my description and took me over to them, then handed me a menu.

  “Hi, ladies.” I took my seat. “Sorry I’m a little late. I got to chatting with Hugh Porter as I left. Have you ordered yet?”

  Ann spoke for the group. “Yes, we did. We knew this wasn’t exactly going to be a relaxing lunch.”

  I smiled. “Thanks.”

  The server returned and took my order for a Shrimp Louie. I thought that would take the least amount of preparation, and I knew the shrimp would be fresh and delicious.

  I took a sip of ice water with a slice of lemon. I was famished! It seemed like eons ago since I’d eaten. Still, I wanted to get the details as soon as possible.

  “How did everything go?”

  Nicole smirked. “I talked to Celeste Osborne in the Club Room. She and Spencer Hausman had just finished a conversation when I came in. Spencer looked upset when he left. I reintroduced myself and she stiffly acknowledged having dinner together last night. I asked her how long she’d known Regina.”

  “Nothing like getting to the point, Nicole.” I was pleased with her initiative. “And what did she say?”

  “Only that she worked with Regina on Society matters, like whom to contact for speaking engagements at their monthly meetings. Celeste is president of the Society, you know.”

  I thought for a moment, then nodded. “I do remember reading it in the brochure credits.”

  Nicole took a sip of her iced tea and continued, “Regina was the program chairman.” She shrugged. “That’s it. That’s all she told me. She actually dismissed me, saying ‘Later, darling,’ as she left.”

  Dominique cut in. “My turn. Ann said you wanted us to keep an eye on Spencer Hausman, too. I saw him in the Fireside Room having a talk with Thomas. I guess Evelyn was in town with Marianne.”

  Ann chimed in. “I have some news on those two after you’re finished, Dominique.”

  I didn’t have much time before I had to meet with the chief, so I cocked my head, took a bite of shrimp covered with Thousand Island dressing, and motioned for Dominique to continue.

  “I don’t think they noticed me coming in because they didn’t even look up. I sat as unobtrusively as possible, straining to overhear their conversation.”

  Nicole prompted. “And….”

  “And,” Dominique continued, “Thomas said, ‘You’re going to have to get over it. Regina meant a lot to me too.’”

  I thought for a minute. “That’s a funny way to describe a relationship, don’t you think?”

  Dominique leaned toward the table and spoke in her quietest voice. “Quite a story. They both loved her. Either one could have killed her in a fit of jealousy. How on earth can we be sure which one?”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Chief Viscuglia sent out the word. Everyone connected to Regina’s death was to remain in his or her rooms until sent for. The small, elegantly appointed dining room he would use offered privacy, as well as a breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean.

  The hotel staff brought in comfortable chairs and a table for our interviews. They had provided an urn of coffee and plates full of homemade cookies on a table along the wall in the back of the room. Deputy Cortez stood by the door.

  “Come in, Jillian,” the Chief said. “Thanks for being on time.” He motioned for me to sit beside him. An empty chair faced us.

  “Is that the hot seat?” I joked.

  He smiled. “I’m the spider spinning my web. Let’s hope we catch a fly today.” He motioned to Deputy Cortez. “Please escort Mr. Hausman to his interview.”

  A few moments later Spencer opened the door and carefully closed it as if he were entering a church.

  “Come in, Mr. Hausman. Please have a seat.” The chief motioned toward the empty chair.

  Spencer moved stiffly, in obvious discomfort.

  How would he handle the electric chair, then?

  I caught myself. Good thing thoughts were private. That one had just revealed my personal prejudices outright — not incredibly professional.

  Hausman looked at me. “May I ask what she’s doing here, Chief?”

  The chief looked in my direction and back at Hausman. “I want her here.”

  I could tell Spencer wasn’t satisfied, but he decided not to press the matter.

  “Let’s begin, Mr. Hausman. Please remember that no one is accusing anyone of murdering Miss Anatolia. We’re just doing routine questioning of everyone who was involved with her.”

  Spencer brushed a speck of lint from his coat. “What do you want to know? Ask away!”

  “Thank you.” The chief looked at his notebook. “First of all, where were you between the hours of two and four this morning?”

  Spencer didn’t hesitate. “I was asleep in my room.”

  “Was anyone with you to corroborate that?”

  “I wish!” He looked down at his shoes, evidently aware of the faux pas he’d committed. “No, Chief.”

  “When did you last see the deceased?”

  “It was about eleven-thirty last night. We’d all just returned from dinner at the Distillery. I was tired and wanted to go to my room.”

  “Your room is on the main floor?”

  “That’s right. It makes it easier for me to run the conference.”

  “And where did you see the deceased at eleven-thirty last night?”

  Spencer shifted — more discomfort, apparently. “She went into the bar. I think she was going to have a nightcap with the Westovers.”

  I couldn’t sit still. “Chief, may I?”

  He nodded for me to go ahead.

  “Actually Spencer, I saw you follow Regina into the bar.”

  He looked at me with cold eyes, smiled, then relaxed a little. “Of course, I’d forgotten. It’s just been so upsetting not having her around. I really depended on her more than I realized, and I’m having difficulty keeping things straight. I apologize.”

  The chief gestured to him. “Please go on, Mr. Hausman.”

  “There’s nothing really. I asked Regina to come to my room before she retired to verify two late arrivals for the conference, make sure they were registered properly and informed of the meeting rooms.”

  “How long did that take?” The chief jotted swiftly on his electronic pad.

  “Just a few minutes. She said she was joining the Westovers for a nightcap and would see me later. That’s the last time I saw her before…. ”

  I couldn’t resist. “Before you saw what, Mr. Hausman?”

  “Nothing, it was just the last time. Am I free to go, now?” He stood. “I have a conference to attend to.”

  “Okay, Mr. Hausman. Remember not to leave town before I give you permission.” As Mr. Hausman left the room, the chief looked at me. “Well, Jillian?”

  “I get the feeling he wasn’t as forthright as he should have been. Maybe it’s because he
’s still upset.”

  “I think he was uncomfortable telling us Regina went to his room. You’d think something as small as late arrivals could have been handled early the next morning.”

  “I don’t think that’s all they talked about, Chief.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, Regina said she couldn’t stand Spencer. I don’t think she would go to his room that late at night unless he had some kind of hold over her.”

  “Or maybe Regina had a hold over him?”

  “Maybe she did.”

  “All right deputy, bring the next one in.”

  Evelyn Westover entered the room regally, as if she were a queen. “Chief… Jillian….”

  She greeted me as if it was no surprise at all to find me there.

  “Please take a seat, Mrs. Westover.” The chief indicated the chair Spencer Hausman had vacated.

  “Oh, do call me Evelyn, everyone does.”

  “I prefer to call you Mrs. Westover.” The chief smiled. “Business, you know.”

  Evelyn narrowed her eyes slightly, then crossed her legs. “Of course.”

  She tossed her hair, as if it really didn’t matter to her at all. “What is it you want to know, Chief?”

  “There are two things, mainly. One, where were you between the hours of two and four this morning, and two, when was the last time you saw the deceased?”

  Evelyn looked to her right as if to pull up a file, looked at the chief, and then me. “One, I was asleep in my room wearing earplugs between the hours of two and four this morning, and two, we had a nightcap with Regina around eleven-thirty last evening. Is that all, Chief?”

  “I have a question, Chief, if I may.”

  “Go ahead, Jillian.”

  “Evelyn, at the reception yesterday afternoon you paid an offhanded compliment to Regina.”

  “I did? That was peculiar of me.”

  “Yes, you said Regina had done an excellent job on the conference considering her background. What background were you referring to?”

  Evelyn looked up, gave a “harrumph” under her breath and said, “Regina Anatolia was nothing before the Society. Her parents were common, uneducated farmers, ‘small time.’ The only attributes she had were good taste in clothes and ambition.”

  The chief cleared his throat. “Mrs. Westover, did you ever deal with Regina personally?”

 
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