Murder and the Museum Read online

  “No, you’re right on.” John looked impressed. “I slathered plain old yellow mustard on a four-pound pork shoulder and then patted a dry rub on it. Put the pork in a baggie in the refrigerator for twenty-four hours, then put it in my slow cooker on High for seven hours. Actually, it was pretty easy.”

  “Fabulous, just fabulous,” Les said as he stood up from the table and was joined by the rest of the group. Laura turned off the twinkling tree lights, doused the candles, and the compound residents retired for the evening, going to their respective houses.

  CHAPTER 10

  When Marty woke up the following morning, there was a note on her nightstand from Jeff.

  “Didn’t want to wake you. Today is going to be a nightmare, so thought I better get a running jump on it. I walked the dogs and made the coffee, so just take a little time for yourself. I’ll call you later. I love you.”

  Marty smiled and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She pulled her robe on and walked to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Patron and Duke were at their self-appointed places at the foot of the bed, and other than opening an eye to acknowledge her, didn’t move.

  She looked out at the courtyard and saw Laura having a cup of coffee and checking her laptop. Marty looked at her watch and decided to join her since Laura wouldn’t be leaving for work for another hour.

  “Morning, Sis. Did you sleep well?”

  “Actually, no. I didn’t want to wake you up, but I do want to talk to you,” Laura said, snapping the laptop shut.

  “Swell. Whenever you use that tone of voice, what I thought was going to be a wonderful day, I know from experience, probably isn’t going to turn out like I envisioned it.” Marty took a sip of her coffee and said, “Okay, spill it. What did the powers that be have to tell you this time?”

  “I’ll overlook the sarcastic tone of your voice, considering that what you call the powers have certainly given advice that has worked in your favor in the past.”

  “You’re absolutely right,” Marty said contritely. “And I apologize again. Can we blame it on the fact that I just got out of bed and my mandatory caffeine levels have not yet been reached?” She took a long drink from her coffee cup to accentuate her point.

  “Knowing you, that’s probably true. Okay, for what it’s worth, here’s my opinion. Jeff is being pulled between three murder cases. You’ve helped him before, and quite successfully, and I think you need to help him with this one. He can’t give the Borden case his full attention when he’s trying to handle all three. And you are somewhat involved, since you’re the one who was going to, and probably still will, do the appraisal.”

  Marty stared at Laura. “I agree, but I have no idea where to even start looking for suspects in this one. You heard Jeff last night. He was pretty clear that the housekeeper couldn’t think of anyone who would want to murder Camille, and she was probably as close to Camille as anyone was.”

  Laura took another sip of coffee and then said, “As always, I have no idea where these thoughts come from or why, but here’s what I’m getting. I told you the other day that I was seeing land, desert land. Camille was in escrow for the property on which she was going to build her museum. I think you need to get in touch with the broker she was dealing with and see if there was anyone else who was interested in the property.”

  Laura and Marty had been so engrossed in their conversation they’d failed to notice that Patron had left the house and was now lying next to Marty’s feet. When Laura began to speak about the land, the big dog stood up and started growling in a menacing manner. They both looked down at him in surprise, and Marty reached over to pet him. It didn’t help. She could feel the tension in him as she continued to run her hand along his back.

  She looked helplessly at Laura and said, “This is not working. Why do you think he’s growling?” She looked around. “There’s no one else here, not even a bird. Would you see if you can do your mumbo-jumbo and calm him down?”

  Laura put her hand on top of his head and bent down, speaking softly in his ear. Almost immediately he stopped growling and laid back down, the tension he was displaying moments earlier apparently gone.

  “That’s interesting,” Laura said. “He definitely senses something, and it has to do with the land I mentioned, which is pretty much what I told you earlier.”

  Marty was convinced. “I’ll see if I can get an appointment with the broker. I’ll make something up along the lines that now that Camille won’t be buying the land, I’m interested for whatever reason. Laura, last night you told Jeff to look into a trust or will. I don’t see how I can help with that, but maybe I can find some additional information about her son. After all, if she dies without a will or trust, I assume as her closest relative, he would inherit her estate. What do you think?”

  “I think those are both good places to start. Marty, I’m sorry, but I do need to look at my emails before I go into the office. Once I get there, I’m usually so busy I don’t get around to them until late afternoon. Occasionally something needs to be done earlier. Give me just a moment.” Laura opened her laptop again and began to tap on the keyboard.

  Marty went inside her house and poured herself another cup of coffee. When she walked back into the courtyard, Laura was gesturing to her. “Marty, this is from Dick. He says he talked to Jeff a few minutes ago and got permission for you to have access to Camille’s house. Dick wants you to take a walk-through of the items in the house this afternoon.”

  Laura was paraphrasing from an email she was reading on her screen. “He says no one has any idea at this point who will be inheriting her collection, but whoever it is, a probate appraisal will have to be done.” She looked up. “He’d like you to get started with the appraisal tomorrow. He also suggested that if Carl is available, you take him with you since the western portion of the collection is pretty extensive and is going to take a while to appraise. He thought Carl would probably have to get some extra help covering his shop.”

  “Okay.” Marty sat down again. “Would you email him back for me and tell him I definitely will be there? I’ll call Carl as soon as his shop opens. That will give me time to make an appointment with the broker and also see if I can find out something about Camille’s son.”

  A few moments later Laura said, “There, done. And on that note, I need to get dressed, or I’m going to be late for work. Good luck today. I’ll look forward to hearing what you find out tonight.”

  “Hopefully, I’ll be able to find out something,” Marty said as she and Patron walked across the courtyard to her house.

  CHAPTER 11

  Marty called Carl promptly at ten o’clock, the time when he opened his shop.

  “Good morning, Carl, it’s Marty. I’m hoping you can join me for a walk-through of the Camille Borden property sometime later today. I got the go-ahead, and Dick over at the insurance company is anxious for me to get started. I’d told him about you and since he’s seen her collection, he’d like you to take a look at what you’ll be appraising. He seems to think it might take you more than one day, and you might need to get someone to cover for you at your shop.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of him. I appreciate it. What time were you planning on going?”

  “Jeff said they would complete their investigation by about three this afternoon, so why don’t I pick you up at three-thirty? Her home is only a few minutes from your shop, so we can easily be there before four. I don’t think we’ll need more than an hour to get a sense of how much time we’ll need to spend on the actual appraisal. I also need to see if she had any oddball things in her collection that would require me to get an expert for whatever.”

  “Sounds good. You met that part-time young woman I hired when you were in the shop last time. I’ll see if she can be on standby for tomorrow morning and the following morning. She only works regularly in the afternoons.”

  “That’s a good idea. Do you have a couple more minutes?”

  “Sure,” Carl said. “My clients don’t
usually get up and about until at least noon. What else can I do for you?”

  “Carl, you have your ear as close to the pulse of what’s going on in Palm Springs as anyone. What do you know about Camille Borden? Did you ever meet her?”

  “Yes, she came in the shop from time to time to see if I had anything that would work for her California collection. Over the years she bought a few things from me.”

  “Carl, you’re being a little less open than you usually are. I suspect you know more. Care to tell me?”

  Marty heard him take a deep breath and then he said, “Well, you didn’t hear it from me, but there’s been some talk of bad blood between her son, Austin, and her. Word has it that his wife is a gold digger, and she’s after Austin’s trust fund money. If that’s true, and I’ve heard that it is on pretty good authority, she’ll probably be very interested in getting her hands on his mother’s money too now that she’s deceased. I’ve not heard anything about a trust or a will. Do you know anything about one?”

  “No, so far one hasn’t surfaced. Jeff said one of his men went to Austin’s house to tell him about his mother and then Jeff himself called, but they haven’t been able to contact him.”

  Marty heard a sound like “harrumph” on the other end of the line and then Carl said, “Well, you didn’t hear it from me, but I’m not surprised. It’s a pretty well-known fact around town that Austin is a druggie. I don’t think the guy has ever worked a day in his life. He was probably sleeping.”

  “What about his wife? Is she into drugs?” It never ceased to amaze Marty how so many trust fund kids ruined their lives with drugs even though they had so many opportunities available to them.

  “That I don’t know, but I have heard that she’s well known to the cops. I think she may have been arrested a couple of time for possession. I heard she was buying for him. I’ve also heard that she likes to keep him drugged up so she can get her hands on the money. Keeps her in control, so to speak.” Carl lowered his voice. “Of course, Marty, that’s sheer rumor, and if you say anything to anyone, I’ll deny any knowledge of it.”

  “Wow, so son would have a motive for seeing mommy dead and so would daughter-in-law,” Marty said, mulling over what Carl had told her.

  “Yes, and I think there’s more to it than just money,” Carl added. “Austin’s wife is Hispanic and it’s pretty common knowledge that Camille did not attend their wedding. His wife made it into a big prejudice deal, that Camille wouldn’t accept Leticia, I think that’s her name, because she was Hispanic and below their station in life, so to speak. Between you and me, that wasn’t it at all. I don’t think Camille had a prejudiced bone in her body. She was just trying to protect her son.”

  “That kind of goes along with what the housekeeper said about the relationship not being very close.”

  Carl was on a roll. “From what I hear, Leticia comes from a family of hotheads and they’ve spread the word all over the Palm Springs area that Camille was one of the most prejudiced people around. I’ve heard she’s had trouble getting people to work for her since most of the gardeners and household help in this area are Hispanic, but I don’t know that for a fact.”

  “Well, we’ll find out this afternoon. The housekeeper is going to show us the collection. See you at three-thirty.”

  “I’ll be waiting for you with bells on.”

  “That would be a sight to behold,” Marty said with a laugh as she ended the call.

  CHAPTER 12

  After her conversation with Laura, Marty did a search on the internet and discovered that the broker for the property Camille was going to purchase was Tony Snyder with what she presumed was his company, Snyder Commercial Real Estate.

  When she’d ended her conversation with Carl, she called the real estate office and asked to speak with Tony Snyder.

  “I’m sorry. He’s in a meeting. May I direct your call elsewhere?” the receptionist asked.

  “No. My name is Marty Morgan, and I want to speak to him personally. I believe he was handling the sale of the property that Camille Borden was buying. I understand that she’s deceased, and I’m very interested in that property,” Marty said, hoping that her small fib would be forgiven.

  “Just one moment, Ms. Morgan. It looks like the meeting just ended,” the young woman said.

  How convenient, Marty thought. I wonder how many times a day she uses that excuse for not putting a call through to him. Or how many times a day he asks her to do that.

  A few moments later an upbeat male voice came on the line. “Good morning, Ms. Morgan, this is Tony Snyder. I understand you have an interest in the property near the Highway 111 and the 10 freeway. How can I help you?”

  “Thanks for taking my call, Mr. Snyder. Yes, I do have an interest in that property. I represent a large conglomerate of professional people who want to build a mall with a few high-end shops in it. That particular piece of property, with its entrance location to Palm Springs, would work very well for them. I understand that it was in escrow, but since the buyer is deceased, I’m assuming that it’s back on the market. I’d like to know more about it.”

  “In a way you are right about the property being back on the market. The Borden purchase contract contained a clause in the fine print that said if the buyer died before the close of escrow, the contract was automatically terminated without any penalty to the buyer. So yes, technically the property could be considered to be back on the market, but I have two rights of first refusal, or should I say one right of first refusal and one right of second refusal,” he said with a laugh.

  “So, what I’m hearing is that the property will be offered to these two buyers before it’s actually placed back on the market. Is that a fair assessment of the situation?”

  “Yes, that probably puts it in the proper perspective.”

  “May I ask the names of the two interested parties?”

  “Yes. Neither one of them has asked that their identities be kept confidential. The first person is the Chairman of the Whitewater River Indian tribe. He would be buying it on behalf of the tribe.”

  “I live in the Palm Springs area, and I’ve never heard of that tribe,” Marty said.

  “I’m not surprised as it’s quite small. Their reservation is located near the headwaters of the Whitewater River.”

  “Forgive my naiveté, Mr. Snyder, but how does a small Indian tribe have the funds to buy twenty acres of prime commercial real estate in the Palm Springs area?”

  “Fair question. I don’t know this for a fact, but the check that the chairman of the tribe, Adam Navarro, gave me a little while ago was drawn on a bank in Las Vegas and the entity that wrote the check is a well-known casino in Las Vegas. I understand that the tribe is going to build a tribal gaming casino on the land with financial and management help from the folks in Las Vegas. That practice is not uncommon.”

  “That’s interesting. Can you tell me who holds the second right of refusal?”

  “I can. It’s been publicized in the Desert Sun, so it’s not exactly a secret. Marc Katz, a developer, wants the land for a mega resort.”

  Marty was confused. “That seems a little strange to me. From the little I know about golf courses, that piece of land doesn’t seem large enough for both a resort and a golf course. Seems strange.”

  “Not really, Ms. Morgan. With over a hundred golf courses already in the area, if someone wants to play golf, they’re only a few minutes away from any number of different golf courses. From what Mr. Katz has discussed with me, the resort he wants to build is going to be a five-star quality destination resort. As a matter of fact, he told me that if there was a six-star rating, his proposed resort would get that. But with the escrow that was started this morning for Mr. Navarro’s purchase, it probably doesn’t matter because Mr. Katz is still not going to get the property. It’s going to go to the Whitewater Indian River tribe.”

  “I imagine Mr. Navarro thought the same thing when he found out Camille Borden had bought the property. Mr. Snyder,
I have another call I have to take, but I really appreciate the information you’ve given me. Thanks,” Marty said hurriedly as she abruptly ended the call.

  Tony Snyder looked at the phone in his hand and thought, What a strange call. She never even gave me her telephone number. I certainly don’t have a death wish for anyone, but if something happens to Mr. Navarro and then to Mr. Katz, I have no way to get in touch with her. There must be something more to that call than what she told me. Oh well, on to other things.

  CHAPTER 13

  Marty looked at her watch and saw that she had plenty of time to drive out to the Whitewater River Indian reservation and also to Austin Phillips’ home before she had to pick Carl up. She didn’t think Jeff would be very supportive of her going to Austin’s home, so she’d looked in his briefcase last night to see if he’d brought home Austin’s contact information. She thought there was a good chance he might have done that, since he’d asked Austin to call him.

  In some ways Jeff was a creature of habit, and he always wrote the names and addresses of the people who were either suspects or persons of interest on the inside cover of the manila file folder of their case. Not only was he a creature of habit, even though he was very computer literate and put everything about a case he was working on in a computer file, he still liked having something solid in his hands when dealing with a murder, like a file folder.

  As she’d expected, the information on Austin Phillips was exactly where she’d thought it would be. She wrote it down and carefully replaced the file. Marty didn’t feel that she was snooping. She preferred to think of it as helping her husband.

  Austin lived in Palm Springs, so it made more sense for her to go to the reservation first and then drive back to Palm Springs, since she had to go there to meet Carl at 3:30.