I'll be posting a chapter from "Murder in Half Moon Bay" every day until the end of the month. Enjoy!
If you like to read about lovely places and fabulous cuisine, enjoy the Jillian Bradley mystery series.
CHAPTER 9
I poured myself a cup of coffee. Spencer had invited
everyone to meet in the Club Room for a staff meeting. Being the first to
arrive, I picked a spot on one of the brocade sofas. Paul soon joined me
looking rather distraught. His expression drooped, dark circles lined his eyes,
and he was pale–as if he’d seen a ghost.
“Paul, I’m so very sorry. Regina was such a nice
young woman.”
Without even looking up, he spoke. “They’d better
get the swine that killed her.”
“You think she was murdered?”
He nodded. “She didn’t commit suicide. Tell me you
don’t believe that?”
“No, I don’t.”
“She didn’t fall out of a window or off a balcony
because she wasn’t drunk enough for that to happen. She wouldn’t have gotten
plastered like that alone–she wasn’t that kind of drinker.”
“It doesn’t look like an accident.”
Spencer Hausman strode through the open double
doors and immediately made his way over to me. He took my hand.
“Thank you for coming, Jillian.” He turned to Paul
with a cold look. “This won’t take long. You won’t miss your lecture.”
Paul huffed. “I really don’t care what I miss.”
The Westovers arrived and sat down. Evelyn sat next
to me. Thomas sat in a chair next to her. They held hands.
Hugh Porter followed them in as well as Marianne
Delacruz. Hugh brought over two chairs from a table for Marianne and himself.
When everyone was comfortable, Spencer began.
“Celeste isn’t here but we have a lecture in just a
few minutes, so I’ll begin.”
“I’m here,” Celeste made an entrance. “Now, what is
all of this about?”
“For those of you who haven’t heard, there has been
a terrible accident. Regina Anatolia was found dead this morning.”
Evelyn looked at Spencer with disbelief. “Dead?
Regina’s dead?”
Spencer’s voice was barely audible. “Yes.”
In a sudden burst of emotion, he broke down. “Dead,
Regina’s dead.”
He curled his hand into a fist to make an obvious
effort to shake off his emotions so he could continue. “I know this is a
terrible shock to us all. I’m asking you to consider the Society. Please do not
to talk to anyone except the police about this matter. We must keep things on
an even keel to get through this evening.”
Celeste looked at Paul tenderly. “Paul, I‘m so
sorry. You were fond of her.”
Paul stood and left without a word.
He managed a great lecture, though, to my surprise
as well as everyone else’s. Thomas caught him afterward, keeping me from
approaching Paul with my questions. In disappointment, I moved to speak with
Evelyn, but she wasn’t engaged in conversation, she was gone altogether.
Perhaps she was attending another lecture.
Odd.
Especially when Thomas and Evelyn seemed to
have made up and had been inseparable the other night.
Ann came into the Club Room as I was leaving. She
motioned for me to come over. “Jillian, the police have blocked traffic
anywhere near the room next to yours. It’s marked with yellow tape.”
***
Our mad dash to my room gave me visions of the
wretched morning. Had they found something? Why did it always have to be so
close?
“Ann, I just realized a few minutes ago…Evelyn
wasn’t at the lecture.”
“I saw her leaving with Marianne.”
“We were ordered not to leave.”
“Surely it’s nothing. Perhaps they didn’t know.”
“Ann, you had a chat with Evelyn yesterday. What
did you talk about?” We stepped into the elevator and began our ascent.
Ann seemed out of breath, “Can we talk about this later?”
“Please? Just humor me.”
She sighed. “She told me about her son. That woman
is hard to figure out. When she’s with other people and her husband, she’s
outgoing and friendly. One on one is a different story. Jillian, I think she
has deep problems.”
“Didn’t he die of a drug overdose?”
“Yes, I think that’s what I heard. She found him in
his room after it happened.”
“I didn’t realize that.”
“It must have pushed her over the edge. She’s
probably in denial. She told me she calmly picked up the phone in his room and
dialed 911 and reported a death in her home.”
“She wasn’t hysterical or upset at all?”
“She said she felt very calm, like it was all
over.”
“Like what was all over?” I was trying to
imagine finding a child you loved dead.
“I don’t know. All she said was, at that point, she
felt like she left her life with his body and stepped into a different person’s
life altogether.”
Turning the corner to where my room was located, I
stopped. There were some reporters trying to talk to the chief right outside my
room door.
“Ann, go and get Nicole and Dominique. Tell them to
listen for anything that might help us. Have them pay special attention to
Spencer Hausman and Celeste Osborne. It would help if you would keep an eye on
Evelyn and Thomas Westover. If Marianne is with Evelyn watch her too. I’ll take
Paul Youngblood and Hugh Porter.”
“All right. Do you want to meet for lunch somewhere
other than here? We might be able to talk better.”
“How about meeting at the Distillery again? The
food is good and we all know where it is.”
“Okay, see you. Good luck.”
“Thanks, I’ll need it.”
I straightened my shoulders. Pushing past the
reporters took some doing. “Excuse me,” I said as politely as I knew how to the
deputy, “I need to speak with Chief Viscuglia.”
A woman with a tape recorder turned to me and said
rudely, “You, and everybody else, lady.”
The chief caught my eye. “Excuse me, people.
Jillian, step inside please. I’m sorry about that.”
“No apology necessary.” I moved through the
threshold and he shut the door behind me. “Looks like the sharks are hungry.”
“The media are always hungry.”
I looked around the room. “Do you think she fell
from Paul Youngblood’s room?”
“Regina Anatolia’s room you mean.”
“No, Chief, I saw Paul check into this room
yesterday afternoon. He even used the phone–I heard him when the bellman was
leaving.”
“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.”
If you like to read about lovely places and fabulous cuisine, enjoy the Jillian Bradley mystery series.
Book 1 MURDER IN HALF MOON BAY
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All books are G-rated and contain no profanity.
See you in my books!
~Nancy Jill
Mystery
novelist Nancy Jill Thames has published Christian fiction since 2010.
The author of seven books in the Jillian Bradley series, she is an award
winning blogger and listed numerous times on the Author Watch Bestseller’s
List. In addition, she won first place in her church's 4th of July celebration for her chocolate cream pie.
When she isn’t plotting her next
book, she spends time with her six
grandchildren, tags along with her husband on business trips, and
plays classical piano for her personal enjoyment. She is an active
member
of the Leander Writers' Guild, American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW),
CenTex Chapter-ACFW, and supports the Central Texas SPCA with a portion
of her book sales. She resides with her husband in Leander, Texas.
CONTACT INFORMATION jillthames@gmail.com