Death Comes in Threes Read online

  Death Comes in Threes

  Death Comes in Threes

  A Sandi Webster Mystery

  by

  Marja McGraw

  Death Comes in Threes, A Sandi Webster Mystery, Copyright 2013 Marja McGraw

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used in critical articles and reviews. For information, email address: [email protected].

  First Edition, 2013

  Cover Design by Marja McGraw

  Editing by Marja McGraw

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  For Patti, Judy and Elaine, who keep life interesting and who encourage me,

  and each other, every day.

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you, again, to Dorothy Bodoin who critiques my work and who constantly keeps me writing with her encouragement. Thank you to Jake and Tony who keep things lively and who are now involved in editing my work. Lastly, thank you to Al for his unending patience and ideas.

  Chapter One

  My blood ran cold in the blink of an eye. This was a man who hated me and what I stand for with every ounce of his being.

  “Sandi, did you hear me?”

  “Yes, Rick, I heard you. When did he escape? How did he escape?” Rick Mason, a homicide detective with L.A.P.D. and a good friend, was calling to say David Smith had escaped from prison. I’d been responsible for what was supposed to be his one-way trip to the Big House.

  Pete, my partner and fiancé, was listening and stood up with raised eyebrows, questioning what the call was about. After all, he could only see my pained expression and had no idea who I was talking to.

  I held up my index finger, asking him to wait. It didn’t really matter how or when David escaped. It only mattered that he was on the loose, and he’d be after me. I knew it, and Rick knew it, too. That’s why he was calling me with a warning. He filled me in on the details, including the fact that David attacked and killed a guard with a shiv, and I hung up. Great. How had he gotten his hands on a knife in prison? I guessed it probably wasn’t all that difficult.

  Pete’s steps brought him in my direction.

  I swallowed. My mouth had dried up like a rose petal sitting in the desert sun. “David Smith escaped from prison last night.”

  Pete moved closer. “Who was that on the phone?”

  “Rick. Everyone involved thought I should know. Apparently David’s been talking about getting even with me for a long time. The warden filled Rick in.”

  “What are they going to do? I know what I’m going to do, but what about officially?”

  “Rick said they’re sending someone to keep an eye on me. They figure it’s the best way to catch him.”

  “They can send anyone they want to, but I’ll be the one watching out for you. That’s one freak I’d like to take down – again.” The little scar at the right corner of Pete’s mouth had turned white. It always turned white when he was upset and tightened his lips.

  I ran my hands through my long dark brown hair and lowered my head to my desk. I felt Pete watching me and sat up. I’d been through worse. I wasn’t about to let David’s escape get the best of me.

  When I first opened my office it was called Webster Investigations. Long story short, I’d hired Pete when he had to leave the L.A.P.D. because of an eye injury. He later invested some money in the company and we renamed it Webster & Goldberg Investigations. Our first big case had been a missing college student.

  In the course of the investigation I’d met one of the missing man’s professors, an archaeologist, and we began dating. Professor David Smith seemed like a nice guy, although he had a few issues.

  The student was found and he’d been strangled. It turned out some of David’s issues included thievery and murder. The student had caught David stealing antiquities from sites he worked on with his students. He was selling them on the black market.

  I remembered the night my then-new career almost came to an end. David thought I’d figured out he was the killer. I hadn’t quite yet, but I was close. I’d been in an auto accident on the freeway while on my way home from having dinner with David and I received a mild concussion. Since the accident hadn’t killed me, I guess David figured he’d better finish the job. He hid in my apartment while I showered after coming home from the hospital, and...

  I forced the thoughts to the recesses of my mind. I didn’t want to think about it. Pete and I had both almost been killed that night.

  “It’ll be fine. He’ll be remembering me as a rather naïve young woman, not the woman I am today. I’ve learned a lot since that first case.”

  “Yeah. Well, regardless, I’ll be keeping an eye on you. You’ve moved since then, too, so he’ll have a harder time finding you.”

  “I’m in the phonebook, Pete. He won’t have much searching to do.”

  “Maybe I’ll just stay at your house for a few days.”

  “My mother is coming for a visit. Are you sure you want to stay at my place?” I smiled at Pete. My mother was extremely menopausal when Pete first met her; mood swings, crying, anger – it all played a part in their initial meeting.

  Pete walked to his desk before glancing back. “Isn’t she taking something for that now? As I recall – ”

  “She’s been taking hormone pills, but I have to admit that when she called last night she sounded odd. Which reminds me, Frank wants you to call him.”

  Frank is my stepfather. He and Pete became friends back during the days when my mother used to complain that menopause was a curse in every woman’s life.

  While Pete called Frank, Stanley arrived and began doing background research of some employment applications for a new client. I didn’t tell Stanley about David. I didn’t feel like talking about it anymore.

  “What did Frank want?” I asked when Pete hung up.

  “He wants to go camping.”

  “What’d you tell him?”

  “I said I’d get back to him.”

  ~ * ~

  My name is Sandi Webster and I run an investigative agency along with my partner, Peter Goldberg. Don’t let the name fool you, because he’s one hundred percent Italian. Long story, better left for another time. We have one employee, Stanley Hawks, who started out as a client and ended up working for us. We make a good team, but in the case of Pete and Stanley, well, I often think of them as the boys instead of grown men. Pete used to be a cop, and Stanley used to write verses for a greeting card company. An unlikely duo, but they’ve become good friends.

  We handle all kinds of cases, but the majority of our work comes from insurance companies. Somehow every so often a murder victim darkens our day and presents us with a challenge. Rick has referred to me as a dead body magnet, but I try to tell myself he’s joking. Rick Mason is Pete’s closest friend.

  With the economy tanking, business was slower than normal. So when Larry Larkin called not long after I talked to Rick and asked to meet with us, I told him to come right in. He said someone was stalking him and he wanted us to find out why. This was reminiscent of our first contact with Stanley because he’d come to us for the exact same reason.

  The new client arrived at our office within thirty minutes of his call. “I phoned a while ago. My name is Larry Larkin, but you can call me Larry.” He was medium height and overweight, and he had a ruddy complexion. His face reminded me of a squirrel preparing for winter; one wh
o’d already started storing nuts in his cheeks. His brown hair was fairly thick on the sides but quite thin on top, so he combed it over, as so many men do. He seemed to be studying me even as I studied him.

  I introduced him to Pete and Stanley, who preferred to be called Stan, before getting down to business.

  “What can we do for you?” I sat forward and gave him my full attention.

  “Can your agency handle a stalker?” He leaned forward and stared into my eyes.

  Stanley sat at his desk working on the computer, but apparently he couldn’t help himself – he joined in. “Can we handle a stalker? I had a stalker once. Why, that’s how I met Pete and Sandi.”

  I smiled at him before turning back to Mr. Larkin. “Go ahead, Larry. Tell us what’s been going on.”

  “I’ve had this feeling that someone’s been following me. I can’t quite explain it except this car has been driving past my house a little too often. The car never stops at any of the other houses, and I live on a quiet side street.”

  I glanced at Stanley and he was nodding his head in understanding. He’d started out with just a gut feeling when his stalker began watching him.

  “The other night I heard a noise and looked out the window in time to see some guy climbing into the same car. He was parked across the street and down a couple of houses. So I started paying more attention, and this guy has been watching my house for three days now. I think he’s casing the joint, so to speak.”

  “Do you have any idea why he’s watching you? Do you own a lot of valuables?” Pete pulled his chair over to join in the conversation.

  “No. I can’t figure it out.”

  “When did you first begin to feel like someone was watching you?” I asked.

  “Last Friday.” Larry began to tap his foot, appearing impatient.

  “Did you do anything out of the ordinary on Friday?” Pete asked.

  The foot stopped thumping and Larry thought about the question. “Let me see. I took off early on Friday because I had some errands to run.” He glanced up at the ceiling. “I met a friend from work for lunch, went to a doctor’s appointment, picked up a prescription at the pharmacy, bought a few groceries and… Hmm. I know I did something else, but I can’t remember what it was. Oh, yeah. I visited a friend at his coin shop.”

  “The only errand you mentioned that seems noteworthy would be the coin shop. What were you there for?” I leaned forward because he’d begun to speak softly as he mentally reviewed his errands.

  The foot began tapping out a rhythm again. “Like I said, I was visiting a friend.”

  “You didn’t conduct any business?” Pete seemed to think this stop might have been relevant, too.

  “No. I’ve done business with Bob in the past, but not on Friday. We’re old friends and I only stopped in because I haven’t seen him in a while.”

  “Okay, what about the friend you had lunch with on Friday?” I asked. “What did the two of you talk about?” I recalled an instance at a restaurant when someone overheard me talking about a hidden treasure, and that had led to a major fiasco.

  Apparently Larry couldn’t think and tap his foot at the same time because he was still again. “We talked about football, but that wouldn’t be important. Let’s see, we discussed an issue at work, but that wasn’t earthshaking either. Umm, I told him I was going to see Bob after my doctor’s appointment, and – ”

  “There’s the coin connection again,” Stanley said. “Do you have any valuable coins? Is your collection extensive?”

  “Good thinking, Stan,” I said. This was beginning to remind me more of the hidden treasure debacle.

  “I do have a collection, and yes, it’s worth quite a bit. And now that I think about it, Ross and I talked about my latest acquisition. He’s a collector, too, but he’s just starting out.”

  Pete glanced in my direction before quickly turning away. I had a feeling he was recalling the hidden treasure incident, too. “Did you notice if anyone seemed particularly interested in your conversation?”

  “Well, no, but I really wasn’t paying any attention to the other customers. Besides, we were at a classy restaurant, not some sleazy joint where criminals might hang out. We ate at a place called Bogey Nights.”

  “Yes, I’ve taken repast there and their fare is excellent.” Stanley did his best to speak as an everyday down-to-earth guy, but he frequently managed to talk in very proper terms, which had been his normal manner of speech when we first met him.

  “Trust me, pal, it doesn’t matter where you are. Criminals like good food, too.” Pete had taken on his cop tone of voice, which I didn’t often hear him do.

  What was it about Larry? He was bringing out the cop in Pete and the proper man in Stanley. I didn’t get it.

  Before Larry could reply the door to the office opened and Felicity DuBois walked in. Felicity is Stanley’s soul mate, which is saying a lot because they’re so opposite. Her blue eyes sparkled. “Good morning, everyone,” she called out. Noticing a stranger in our midst, she said, “Oh,” and quietly walked over to Stanley’s desk.

  I watched Larry slowly scan Felicity from top to bottom. His expression made me feel uncomfortable.

  Pete leaned back in his chair. “Okay, Larry, I’d be willing to bet this has something to do with your coin collection. In fact, this is almost too easy. You talked about your coins and then headed for the coin store. It fits into a neat little package.”

  Pete looked proud of his deduction, and I had to admit I thought he might be right.

  The door opened again, and…

  “Mother?” My mother walked through the door, planted herself in front of my desk and began to cry.

  Was I imagining things or did Pete’s dark complexion turn pale?

  Before I could move, Felicity ran over and threw her arms around my mother, who responded by crying louder.

  “Mom?”

  Larry stood up and offered my mother his chair. He looked like a cornered animal and eyed the exit.

  Mother dropped her purse on the floor and sat down.

  Pete stood, too, and led Larry toward the door. “Let me work something up and I’ll call you this afternoon. I think we can take care of this situation for you.”

  “Pete?” I called. “Don’t forget the paperwork.”

  “Oh, yeah. I’ve got to have you sign some papers before you leave.” He led Larry to his desk and pulled out a very orderly drawer. Pete’s desk was so neat and clean it almost looked like no one used it. There was a drawer for everything, and everything was in a drawer.

  I wondered what it would be like when Pete and I married because I’m not nearly so careful about appearances. I like a messy desk because it makes me feel like I’m accomplishing something. And I know right where everything can be found.

  I glanced at my mother, pulled open a drawer and dug out a chocolate candy bar, my cure for everything.

  “Here, Mom, take this. I thought you weren’t coming until tonight.”

  “Well, plans change, don’t they?” It wasn’t really a question, and the look on her face made me decide to clam up.

  Chapter Two

  My mother accepted the candy bar and sniffled while she opened it. Felicity pulled over another chair and sat next to her, holding her hand.

  “Livvie? What’s wrong?” These were two of the three most important women in my life. I was glad they’d taken to each other. They were so cute, sitting together. My mother was about five feet tall, and Felicity was even shorter than Mom. Their combined weight couldn’t have added up to much, and they looked like little China dolls. I couldn’t help smiling.

  “Yeah, Mom, what’s going on?” I stood up and rounded the desk, adding my hand to the top of my mother’s.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s been like this ever since I quit taking my hormones.”

  There was a quick intake of breath from both Felicity and myself. I’d faced raging hormones with my mother in the past, and Felicity had heard all about it.<
br />
  “Why?” I asked. “You were feeling so good.”

  Mother turned angry eyes on me. “Sandra, I’ve heard hormone pills can cause major health problems. And I am taking something. It just seems to take longer to work.”

  “What are you taking?” Felicity asked.

  “Some things I got at the health food store. They said it would take a while to work, but I didn’t know I’d be like I was before.”

  “What does Frank say?” I asked.

  Her expression changed to one of disgust. “He just shoved the broom in my hand and pushed me out the back door, saying I should visit the hibiscus bush.”

  “Did you slap him?” I asked. I was only half joking.

  “No, but I sure felt like it.”

  I started to laugh. I couldn’t help myself. My stepfather bought a house with hibiscus bushes in the backyard because he’d learned my mother would take out her anger on the bushes instead of him. She’d beat them with the broom until she felt better.

  Felicity knew about the bushes because I’d told her. She watched me laugh and before long she joined in. Her dimpled cheeks reminded me of Shirley Temple.

  I turned my eyes toward my mother. Her face was turning red, and I knew we were making her angry. And then the unexpected happened. She joined in and laughed until she cried. Hysteria? I handed both of them tissues, holding one back for myself.

  I saw Pete leading Larry toward the door. “I’ll call you this afternoon,” he said loudly, trying to talk over the noise we were making.

  Larry peeked over his shoulder at us and seemed to walk toward the door a little faster.

  “Felicity, would you and Stan take my mother down the street to the diner for pie and coffee while I talk to Pete about our new case?”

  I turned to my mother. “You wouldn’t mind, would you Mom?”

  “No, dear, I don’t want to be a burden. I’ll go with the kids.”