Murder & The Monkey Band: High Desert Cozy Mystery Series (7 page)

Okay
, Marty thought,
I have to admit
I’m looking forward to seeing Jeff again. After all, he’s very handsome and
maybe, just maybe, there’s something going on between the two of us. Laura
seems to sense it, and she’s usually right. I’m doubly glad he’s coming to
dinner, because maybe he’s heard of Henry Siegelman. Even if he hasn’t, I think
he’ll want to know what Carl told me. Better change clothes and refresh my
make-up. If he does want to get to know me, I’ll do what I can to look good and
give him a reason to. It was pretty apparent that Nikki Bolen was attracted to
him.

She took her hair out of
the chignon that she wore it in when she was appraising, so her hair wouldn’t
get in her eyes. Soft auburn curls framed her face, highlighting her creamy
complexion and hazel eyes. Marty put on a jade colored dressy T-shirt that had
raglan sleeves and a low vee neck that brought out the green in her eyes. She
paired it with white jeans and white sandals. She looked at her image in the
mirror and decided for a woman who was going to be fifty in a few months, she
didn’t look that bad.

Marty opened the front
door of her house and walked over to the picnic table where Les, John, Max, and
Laura were sitting, a bottle of wine already on the table. “Wow, you look
great. All dolled up for the detective I see,” John said with a smirk on his
face.

“I am not dolled up for anyone.
I simply needed to change clothes, and I decided to put on a little make-up.
Honest, it’s no big deal.”

The three of them grinned
and exchanged knowing looks. “Okay, Marty, whatever you say. We won’t make a
big deal of it when lover boy comes for dinner tonight,” John said.

Marty pelted him with some
peanuts he’d set out on the table. “Let’s get one thing straight. He is not my
lover boy, and I have no intention of having him become my lover boy, contrary
to what that nosy, mouthy sister of mine probably told you.”

Laura put her hands up in
self-defense. “Marty, I simply mentioned that the detective who was coming to
dinner tonight seemed more interested in you than in solving the murder case.
Would that be a fair assessment? Oh, and I didn’t even mention your twitching
eyelid.”

“This conversation is
officially over,” Marty said. She turned to John. “Laura and I had something
for lunch today that I think needs to be on The Red Pony’s menu.” She told him
about the Mexican Eggs Benedict Rosa had made for them. “Honestly John, after I
took just one bite I could see it on your menu. You could make the cornbread
ahead of time, get everything ready, and all you’d have to do when somebody
placed an order would be to poach the eggs. I think it would be perfect for
you. Anyway, here’s the recipe,” she said, handing him a piece of paper.

“Boss, sounds danged good.
Let’s fix it and see fer ourselves,” Max said, his weathered face crinkled in a
smile.

“You know me. I’m always
open for a new dish,” John said. “Thanks, Marty.”

The small bell that was
next to the compound gate rang. “Looks like lover boy, sorry Marty, meant to
say that Detective Jeff Combs is here,” John said.” I’ll get it.” A moment
later they heard him greet Jeff and say, “How thoughtful of you. Yes, this is a
perfect wine to go with the lamb. As a matter of fact, if I had to pick one
out, it’s exactly what I would have chosen. Thank you. We’re pretty casual
here, so just have a seat at the picnic table in the courtyard. Here’s a
glass.”

“Don’t mind if I do, since
I’m off duty. Greetings. I’ve met everyone except you two,” he said to Les and
Max, extending his hand. “I’m Jeff Combs.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m
Les, the resident guy who plays with colors on canvas and this is Max, John’s
sous chef. Welcome to the compound.”

Jeff turned and smiled at
Marty. “It’s nice to see you again, Marty. You look beautiful. If you don’t
mind I need to pick your brain about some issues involved in the Pam Jensen
murder investigation. Have you told the others about the appraisal you were on
today?”

“No, as a matter of fact I
got tied up on the phone, and I’ve only been here a couple of minutes.”

He turned to the others.
“I’m sorry to do this at dinner, but I need some information from Marty about
something called the Monkey Band.”

“The Monkey Band? I’ve
never heard the term. What is it?” John said.

“I’ll get to it in a
minute, or Marty can tell you later. Here’s a little background. A woman was
murdered last week in Palm Springs, and Marty’s appraising the items contained in
her home. The case was assigned to me, but I’ve been unable to come up with a
motive or a suspect. Looks like that’s changed based on what I learned today. I
found out this afternoon that the decedent changed her Will just a few days
before she was murdered. Since her lawyer filed it with the court this
afternoon, it’s now a matter of public record. The interesting thing is that
her son and daughter will get only half of what they would have gotten if she
hadn’t changed it.”

“Do you think that makes
her son, Jim, a suspect?” Marty asked.

“Yes. I did a little
research on him after I found out about it. Apparently he’s had a number of
failed business ventures and has been divorced twice. I asked around about him,
and the Palm Springs business community is not all that enamored of him. One
person I talked to had been a good friend of his stepfather, Brian Jensen, and
this person told me Brian said he would never lend Jim another cent, and he had
instructed his wife to do the same.”

“So, if he were to lose
half of his inheritance, that might be grounds for murder. Would I be right?”
John asked.

“Possibly. You know the
law. Everyone is innocent until proven guilty, but he is someone I intend to
spend a little time with tomorrow.”

“You might also want to
spend a little time with the housekeeper, Rosa.” Laura said.

“Why?”

She sighed. “Jeff, have
you had any experience with the psychic world?”

“Absolutely none. Are you
talking about crystal balls and tarot cards and stuff like that?”

“Well, it’s complicated,”
Laura said. “There are so many different things that can fall into the overall
psychic category, some of which are legitimate and others aren’t.” She told him
about how she had been tested at UCLA, and that sometimes she knew things or
felt them before those things actually occurred.

“From what I’m hearing,
I’m guessing you feel something isn’t quite right with the housekeeper, would I
be right?” Jeff asked.

“This conversation is
driving me nuts, “John said. “I feel like I’m watching a movie about a murder
mystery, but if we want to eat before it’s bed time, Max and I better leave and
get dinner ready. We’ll be back in about half an hour, and Marty, thanks for
the recipe. I’ll put it on the menu and try it out. Might even call it Marty’s
Mexican Eggs Benedict.”

“Don’t think that would
make Rosa very happy, but thanks for the thought.”

Laura continued, “Here’s
what I’ve experienced about this murder case and the appraisal which seems to
be somehow connected to the murder. Last night I had a vision, a dream, or some
kind of a feeling, whatever you want to call it, that Marty would be involved
with things that were related to the murder. However, in the dream, Marty
wouldn’t be able to appraise the most important thing to be appraised, because
it was gone. When that woman Nikki was at the house this afternoon and told us
the Monkey Band set was missing, I started to wonder if that’s what the murder
is about and the reason Marty couldn’t appraise the most important thing
because it had been stolen.”

“My brain tends to think
in logical ways rather than psychic ways, and that seems like a pretty logical
assumption. What about Rosa?” Jeff asked.

“When I first met her I
told Marty I felt guilt coming off of her. You probably don’t think much of
people seeing auras…”

Jeff interrupted her. “I
have no clue what an aura even is.”

“It’s a halo-like color
that usually surrounds the person. When I look at a person and see an aura, it
tells me all kinds of things about them. Rosa’s was black. That’s not a color
you want to have, in fact it’s the worst color a person can have. It can
signify anger, depression, hatred, or anything that’s really bad. The feeling I
got from Rosa’s aura was one of guilt. I don’t think she had anything to do
with the murder, but she definitely feels guilty about something. If the Monkey
Band was stolen, and it appears to have been, I think Rosa knows something
about it. When Nikki told us it was gone, I happened to be looking at Rosa. Her
hand went involuntarily to her heart and she turned pale. In psychic speak, it
would be called a tell. In other words she had an involuntary reaction to what
was being said.”

“Well, that’s interesting.
So now I guess I should be looking at both Pam’s son, Jim, as well as her
housekeeper.”

“Yes, and I have to tell
you I mentioned to Marty when we were in the driveway and Jim drove in behind
us, that I didn’t have a good feeling about him. My psychic sense tells me
there is something more about Jim that may be of interest to you other than his
dissatisfaction with his mother having changed her Will.”

“Let me add to your list
of possible suspects as I think there might be one or two others for you to be
looking at as well,” Marty said and told him about her earlier conversation
with Carl. “It’s too bad he didn’t get the name of the person who called him
and inquired about the value of Monkey Band pieces, but I think you can
probably find out some information about the man named Henry Siegelman.”

“That name rings a bell,
but I can’t place it. Marty, do you have a computer?”

“Yes, why?”

“Well, from what John said
we have a little time before dinner. Would you mind if I Googled him? I’d be
interested in knowing just how much information there is on him.”

Marty stood up. “My
computer’s in my office.” She turned to Laura, “Call us when John’s ready. The
one thing I don’t want to do is make the chef angry by being late to dinner!”
she said laughing as Jeff followed her into her home.

“I like the way you’ve decorated your
home, Marty. It’s very much in keeping with the desert,” Jeff said as he looked
at the Navajo rugs on the tile floor and the soft off-white furniture. “Those
pillows look great on the couch. Since you’re the authority on antiques, are
they antique, too?”

“Yes. They’re made from
Kilim rugs which usually come from Turkey. A lot of people think the designs of
the Navajo rugs that are so collectible were based on the Kilim rugs. I found
several that were inexpensive because they were in such bad shape, so I took
the good parts and had them made into pillows. I like how they play against the
Navajo rugs. Here’s my computer and it’s already on, so feel free to search for
whatever you need. Where do you start when you’re doing something like this?”

“I’ll begin by simply
putting his name in the search box and see what comes up.” Jeff sat down at the
desk where the computer was located and entered Henry Siegelman’s name. He
clicked on several sites, and after a few minutes he turned to where Marty was
quietly sitting and watching.

“This is interesting. He
lives not too far from here, in La Quinta. That’s where I started my police
career before I moved to Palm Springs. Evidently his parents were very wealthy,
and he inherited a great deal of money when they died at an early age, while he
was still in college. According to what I’m seeing, he’s never worked. It says
he’s a big player in the stock market, but the thing that has the most bearing
on this case is every article states that his antique and art collection is one
of the finest in the world. He’s recognized as being one of the foremost
experts on Meissen china and apparently has one of the best private collections
of it.”

“Do any of the articles
mention the Monkey Band?”

“No. I think I’ll look
into this more when I get home. I know I’ve heard his name before, and I can’t
quite place where or when I heard it. Whatever it was I heard, I guess it’s
floating around out there somewhere in the ether. Maybe I can’t remember
because you’re having a distracting effect on me.”

“I’m what?” Marty asked,
wide-eyed. “I’m not doing anything but sitting here.”

“That’s enough to distract
me. I’m quickly finding out I’m not at my best when I’m around you. I feel like
some gawky teenage boy, doing and saying everything wrong. Marty, I really
would like to see you and show you I’m not just some guy on the make. I don’t
know what it is about you, but I feel like I’ve known you forever. I’ve never
felt quite so comfortable with a woman.”

“Well, thank you for the
compliment, but we don’t know anything about each other.”

“I know, and that’s the
beauty of it. We can tell each other our life stories, and neither one of us
will have heard it before. I suppose that’s the advantage of not being with
someone for a long time. I always wondered what old married couples talked
about because they’d each probably heard the other one’s story a million times.
Actually, I think it would be nice to hear your story a couple of times.”

“Jeff, this is a little
fast. We haven’t even known each other for eight hours.”

“That might be true, but
at our age I can’t see any reason to play some game. My parents got married
after they’d only known each other for six weeks, and they were married for
over fifty years. No one gave their marriage a week. Mom and dad outlasted all
the critics and gossips.

“I’d be lying if I told
you I didn’t want to see you again,” Marty said, “but let’s take it slow and
easy. We’ve got plenty of time.”

“Easy for you to say. You
probably have a bunch of guys standing in line, and I’m at the back of the
line.”

“Don’t think so.” She
laughed and added, “As a matter of fact, I’m somewhat newly divorced and a real
newbie at middle age relationships. I haven’t a clue where to go with this.”

He stood up from the chair
in front of the desk and walked over to her. “Well, for starters, how about this?”
he said as he pulled her up and lightly kissed her.

Oh lord, I didn’t expect
this. If we don’t go out to the courtyard right now, I might just give them a
reason to call him Lover Boy.

She pulled away. “I think
we better go outside. Dinner’s probably ready, and I know from experience that
while John is the most giving person in the world and one of the best chefs I
know, he definitely is not happy if someone is late to dinner, but I think I’d
like a rain check on the follow-up to that kiss,” she said smiling up at him.

“Lady, it would be my
pleasure,” he said, opening the door for her.