Marriage and Murder (Cedar Bay Cozy Mystery Book 4) (10 page)

BOOK: Marriage and Murder (Cedar Bay Cozy Mystery Book 4)
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CHAPTER 17

 

The next morning when he arrived at
his office, Mike said to Angie, his longtime secretary, “Would you hold my
calls? I want to do some research this morning, and I need to be able to
concentrate.”

“Sure, Mike. By the way,
you know Tony, my husband. He feels real bad about Jesse’s murder. He told me
Jesse always took a lot of time with him when he went in The Crush to get wine.
He was wondering if you have any leads in his murder.”

“I’ve got some people I
think might qualify as potential suspects, but nothing I’d take to the bank.
The killer’s out there, but it’s not easy finding him or her. I feel like I’m
getting closer, you know, kind of like that kid’s game – you’re getting warmer
when you’re about to guess the right answer. I think I’m getting warmer. Tell
him when I get hot, I’ll let everybody know.”

She laughed. “I haven’t
thought of that game for years. When I was in my last month of my pregnancy
with Susie, Tony and I used to play it at night when I couldn’t sleep. I don’t
think I’ve played it or even thought about it since then. I’ll tell him what
you said.”

Mike and Rebel walked into
his office and he closed the door behind them. “Okay boy, you might as well get
comfortable. This might take awhile.” One hour later, having done a lot of
research on his computer, he was able to get the name of the insurance agency where
Richard Larson worked in Sunset Bay. He dialed the number he’d found for it.

“Hello. Triple A Insurance
Agency. How may I direct your call?” the receptionist asked.

“This is Sheriff Mike
Reynolds. I’d like to speak to the manager.”

“That would be Derek
Martinez. Please hold. I’ll see if he’s available.”

Within moments, a man’s
voice said, “This is Derek Martinez, Sheriff. How can I help you?”

“Well, I’m not real sure.
I’m calling about one of your employees, a man by the name of Richard Larson.
I’d appreciate any information you could give me about him.”

“When Judy told me you
were on the phone, I was pretty sure it would be about Richard. Here’s the
thing, Sheriff. My wife is a recovering alcoholic, and she met Richard at an AA
meeting. He told her he’d been a high ranking executive with an insurance
company in Seattle, but because of his problems with alcohol, he was fired. He’d
visited this area on vacation once and had good memories of it, so he decided
to come here, start over, and look for a job. My wife suggested I hire him, and
even though I knew I was taking a chance, I did. He’s a very charming and
charismatic man and a darned good insurance salesman when he’s sober.”

“I gather from that
statement he’s still having trouble with alcohol.”

“That might be the understatement
of the year. His wife divorced him, and as I told you, he was fired from his
job in Seattle. You’d think that would be enough to make anyone turn their life
around, but he’s only successful about half the time. It seems he’s either
drunk and can’t work, or when he isn’t drunk he’s going to every AA meeting
around these parts. He’s always talking about how alcohol should be illegal in
the State of Oregon, and how something should be done about the people who sell
alcohol. I think in some twisted way he blames the people who sell alcohol for his
alcoholism.”

“It seems like a stretch,
but I suppose there’s a shred of sense in that thinking.”

“You’re a far more
generous man than I am, Sheriff. If it wasn’t for my wife, I would have fired
him long ago, although occasionally he does bring in a good client. It’s a very
frustrating situation.”

“I can well imagine. Have
you ever known him to threaten a liquor store owner?”

“Yes. There’s a liquor
store here in Sunset Bay where he used to buy his liquor. In one of his sober
moments, he threatened to kill the owner if he didn’t close the liquor store. I
think he said something about it being the work of the devil. The liquor store
owner called me and complained. There really wasn’t much I could do but talk to
Richard. He promised it would never happen again, but he was permanently
refused service at that store. Occasionally he still goes on a bender and no
one hears from him for a couple of days, then he goes back to attending all the
AA meetings in the area. I know he really wants to quit permanently, but he
can’t seem to do it. Now that I’ve told you what I know about him, may I ask
why you’re calling?”

“A man who owned a wine
store in Cedar Bay was recently murdered. I’m looking for any tie-ins. Someone
told me that Richard had talked in a very negative way about liquor store
owners, so I thought I’d follow up on it.”

“I remember hearing about
that murder on television. I think you were being interviewed about it. Richard
lives on the outskirts of Cedar Bay. I’ve never been to his home, but you might
want to talk to him there. I’ve learned from being in the insurance business
for many years that you can get a real sense of the person when you’re on their
turf. Would you like his address?”

“Thanks, Derek, I already
have it. I really appreciate your help. If I find out anything, I’ll let you
know, and if you think of anything else or hear something, I’d appreciate it if
you’d call me.”

“Happy to, Sheriff. It’s
been nice talking to you.”

Mike walked out to Angie’s
desk. “I’m going to leave for a couple of hours. Anything important come up
while I was doing some research?”

“Nothing that can’t wait
until you get back. Lem, the attorney, called. He’s back in town from his
vacation and wants to talk to you about Jesse and some legal issues. I told him
you were doing some research, and he said it was probably just as well you were
busy, because he’s got a lot of catching up to do after taking off for a few
days.”

“Okay, we’ll be back in a
couple of hours. Come on Rebel, let’s go talk to this guy and see what we can
find out.”

Typical January weather,
Mike thought on the drive
to Richard Larson’s ranchette,
grey and misty, chilly but not cold. Think everybody
here in the Pacific Northwest lives for the next time they’ll see some sun.
This has been going on for a long time now, and everyone’s getting pretty tired
of it. Maybe that’s why we treasure the few days we have here on the coast that
are warm and sunny. Probably why Richard Larson decided to move here. Be
willing to bet when he came here to visit it was warm and sunny. No one told
the poor guy that a day or two like that is pretty rare.

After a short drive out of
town on the main highway, Mike saw the Larson mailbox and turned up the gravel
road that led to Richard’s modest ranchette home. It didn’t look like he was at
home and no car was in the driveway. The house was badly in need of repair.
Paint was flaking off of the shutters, weeds were on either side of the
sidewalk leading up to the house, and it practically screamed out the word
“neglect.”

Rebel jumped out of the
patrol car and followed Mike up to the front door. Mike looked down at Rebel
and saw that his hackles were raised. He wasn’t growling or barking, but there
was no mistaking the tension in him, as if he were prepared for some sort of danger.
Mike rang the bell and also knocked on the door.
With the way this
property’s been neglected, I’d be willing to bet the doorbell’s broken.
He
waited several minutes, and no one came to the door.

“Come on Rebs, let’s walk
around the house. Maybe we can peek inside.” He stepped off the porch and
walked around to a window on the side of the house. Mike stood on his tiptoes
and looked into the kitchen.

Good grief, I’ve never
seen anything like this
. He stood in shock, surveying the empty vodka and beer
bottles that completely covered the countertop along with empty cans of food
and a half-eaten sack of potato chips. He took his phone out its holster and
snapped some pictures. Rebel stood as close to him as possible, trembling.

“It’s okay, Rebel. Come.”
Mike walked around to the rear of the house where a trash can overflowed with more
empty beer and vodka bottles along with all kinds of fast food wrappers and
containers. “He may be trying to get off of the stuff, but from what I’m
seeing, it’s definitely winning the battle, and he’s losing it.”

There were no drapes or
other types of window coverings, and Mike was able to easily look through the
sliding glass door at what he assumed was the family room. He saw a large
television set in the corner. Mike took a deep breath and stared, speechless,
at the numerous hand-painted posters filled with hateful words and directed
toward the liquor industry that were tacked up on the wall. “Death To The Booze
Pushers,” “The Only Good Liquor Store Owner Is A Dead Liquor Store Owner,” and
“Burn, Baby, Burn The Liquor Stores,” were only a few of the posters he saw on
the walls.

He took more pictures and
continued around the house to what looked like a bedroom. In stark contrast to
what he had seen in the other rooms, the bedroom was very neat. The bed was
made, and there was a large sign above the bed that read, “The Big Book.” On
the dresser was a well-thumbed copy of the book that members of AA considered to
be their Bible.

I’ve never seen anything
like this. The poor guy, I mean I have to feel sorry for him, he has got to be
living his life in some sort of a horrible seesaw battle. The demons of alcohol
are certainly snapping at his heels. Looks like part of him gives in to his
urges, and the other part tries to fight them. I have no idea whether or not
he’s the killer, but it sure looks like he might be capable of it if he’d been
drinking and blamed Jesse for his problems because he sold alcohol. That’s
pretty perverted thinking, but anyone who commits murder probably thinks in a
perverted way.

Mike and Rebel walked back
to his patrol car, Rebel visibly more relaxed than he had been. “Come on, Rebs,
let’s go call Lem. Don’t know what I was expecting to find here, but this certainly
wasn’t on my radar. Wow! This place is like something out of a movie. You’d
have to see it to believe it.”

CHAPTER 18

 

“We’re back, Angie. I gotta tell you,
I’m ready for the sun to peep through the overcast. This grey mist is getting
old. I’ve always heard Seattle has the highest suicide rate in the country because
of all the rain up there, but if this keeps up, we might give them a run for
their money.”

“I certainly hope not.
With all the murders we’ve had in the last year, we sure don’t need something
like a suicide epidemic.”

“You’re right. Got
anything new for me?”

“Yes. A man by the name of
John Baker called and would like you to call him.”

“Did he say what it was
regarding?”

“No. Here’s his number.
You know if it’s about a case or something like that, they usually won’t tell me
much. It was that kind of a conversation.”

“Thanks. I’ll give him a
call and see what he wants.”

A few minutes later after
he’d given Rebel a fresh bowl of water and a treat, he dialed the number Angie
had given him.

“May I speak with John
Baker? This is Sheriff Reynolds.”

“This is John,” the voice
on the other end said. “Thanks for getting back to me so promptly.”

“No problem. What can I do
for you?”

“Well, Sheriff. I’d like
this conversation to be confidential. In other words, I don’t want anyone to
know that I called you, or what I’m calling about. I’d appreciate it if you do
something with the information I’m going to give you, that there won’t be any
reference to me. Would you agree to that?”

“I haven’t heard what
you’re going to tell me, so I’m a little reluctant to promise you that in
advance, but yes, I probably can.”

The man took a deep breath
and began to speak. “I’m the controller for the Pellino Brothers Vineyard, and
I’m very concerned about some things that have been happening around here. For
instance, in the last two weeks alone, over five million dollars has been
deposited into the company’s bank account from an unidentified account in the
Cayman Islands.”

Mike let out a low
whistle. “That’s a lot of money. Has that ever happened before?”

“No. I overheard the
brothers talking about wanting to buy the White Cloud Retreat Center vineyard that’s
adjacent to their vineyard. They didn’t know I could hear them. Dante told Luca
that it was a good thing the Allen guy was dead. He said he thought it was just
a matter of time before Luke Monroe, the owner of the White Cloud Retreat
Center, would realize he couldn’t run the vineyard without some help, and therefore
he’d be inclined to sell it to them. Luca told him maybe it was time to do something
to hasten the process.”

“That sounds a little
ominous. Did he say anything specific?”

“No, but there was a guy
here from Chicago for the last week or so by the name of Guido Salerno. He left
just a couple of days ago, but between you and me, he gave me the willies, and
I think he scared the brothers, too. He was also here a couple of months ago. I
hate to sound prejudiced, but if I was ever going to pick a guy who looked like
he was a Mafia hit man, he’d be the guy I’d pick, hands down, no contest. Before
Guido went back to Chicago, I overheard Luca tell Dante that he wished Guido
would just get it over with and leave.”

“Are you telling me you
think Luke’s life could be in danger?”

“Sheriff, I honestly don’t
know. I’ve worked for the brothers for several years, and while they pay me
well, I can’t say that I like them. I don’t think they’re good men, if you know
what I mean. I wouldn’t put anything past them, but I don’t have any solid
proof to back it up. The one thing I do know is that they want the land that
the Center owns in a big way. And from my experience with them, they usually
get what they want.”

“Why do you think they’re
so focused on that particular property? I mean, there’s a lot of other land
around here they could use to grow grapes on.”

“They want to make a pinot
noir that’s as good as Scott Monroe made when he was alive. He grew the grapes
for his wine on that property, so I think they feel if they can get that land,
they can make an award winning pinot noir just like he did. Hate to say this,
because I have absolutely no basis for it, but it’s kind of ironic that originally
they hoped to buy the property because they didn’t think Luke knew what he was
doing. Then Luke hired Jesse Allen to help him, and now Allen’s been murdered.
I’ve got no proof of any tie-in, but I sure think it’s kind of interesting.”

“Yeah, so do I. Got
anything else for me?” Mike asked.

“No. I just thought you
might be interested in what I’ve observed here at the vineyard.”

“Thanks John, I appreciate
you taking the time to call me. Do me a favor. If you see or hear anything else
that you think might be important for me to know, don’t hesitate to call. I
promise you I won’t divulge your identity or what you’ve told me.”

“Will do, Sheriff. If I
hear anything else, I’ll definitely let you know.”

Mike buzzed Angie. “Hold
my calls for an hour or so. I’ve got a little more research I need to do. For
the next hour he read everything he could find on the Internet about Guido
Salerno and the Pellino brothers. He finally sat back in his chair, troubled by
what he’d found out about the three of them.

So Guido Salerno was tried
for murder in New Jersey,
he thought as he doodled on the piece of paper in front of
him.
The newspaper clippings said that it was a classic type of Mafia contract
murder. The District Attorney couldn’t prove his case, and Guido got off
because of a hung jury. Both of the Pellino brothers were arrested numerous
times for extortion, money laundering, and other white collar crimes when they
lived in Chicago. Their names were tied several times to a man named Angelo
Rossi, who it turns out, has well-known Mafia connections in Chicago.

Confidential tax records
of the IRS, available only to law enforcement authorities, indicate the IRS
thinks Rossi and the Chicago Mafia are the secret owners of the Pellino
Brothers Vineyard, but they haven’t been able to prove it. Guido Salerno moved
from the New Jersey area to Chicago and now allegedly works for Rossi as an
enforcer.

Guido and the Pellino
brothers certainly qualify as suspects. Maybe Rossi sent Guido out to get rid
of Jesse. If he is a Mafia hired gun and if the Pellino brothers are Mafia, it makes
perfect sense that Guido would stay at their vineyard. It’s also interesting
that he returned to Chicago immediately after Jesse’s death.

All this makes me
concerned about Luke’s safety. I suppose the good news is that this guy Guido
has left, but based on what I’ve just read, the Pellino brothers might be
capable of killing Luke. Sounds like they’re willing to do about anything to
get the White Cloud property.

He found Luke’s number and
called it. “Hi Luke, it’s Sheriff Mike. I don’t want to alarm you, but I’ve
received some confidential information that makes me concerned for your safety.
It may be nothing, but I’d feel better if I knew you were taking some safety
precautions, like keeping a gun near you.”

“That’s great, Mike. Just
the call everyone wants to get from their sheriff. A call alerting them that they
might be in danger. As a matter of fact your wife also cautioned me to keep a
gun with me at all times, so I have one right next to me as we speak.”

“Like I said, it may be
nothing, but I kind of remember something that Benjamin Franklin said about an
ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. Think it might be appropriate
here. In other words, I’d rather have you avoid a problem than try to fix it
later on or worse yet, have me try to fix it.”

“Thanks for calling. I’ll
be very careful, so you won’t have to fix any problems concerning me.”

“Good. Hate to have
anything happen to my wife’s favorite yoga teacher. Talk to you later.”

BOOK: Marriage and Murder (Cedar Bay Cozy Mystery Book 4)
8.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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