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  DEADLY DECEPTION

  A Sister Sleuths Mystery

  Book Eight

  Rayna Morgan

  Copyright ©2019 by Rayna Morgan

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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

  Ebook formatting by www.ebooklaunch.com

  What people are saying about the Sister Sleuths

  THE NUT CASE: PREQUEL NOVELLA

  “Couldn’t put it down”

  “Realistic characters and plenty of action”

  “Excellent book, well written”

  MURDER AT THE PIER

  “Great twists and turns”

  “Unique story line”

  “Can’t wait for the next book in the series”

  MURDER: ACT TWO

  “You’re in for a treat”

  “Characters are colorful, fun, interesting, and full of energy”

  “Entertaining and intriguing”

  MURDER WESTERN STYLE

  “As quick and deadly as a sidewinder”

  “A galloping good read”

  “Enjoyed from start to finish”

  THREE-DAY WEEKENDS ARE MURDER

  “Excellent pace with excitement throughout”

  “Details and motivation are real and driven”

  “The ending was a big surprise”

  MURDER AFTER HOURS

  “Plot twists kept me in the dark until the ending”

  “Liked the relationship between the two sisters”

  “Well written with good character development”

  HIT AND RUN

  “Was hooked on the first page”

  “Fast paced and exciting mystery”

  “A big surprise at the end”

  SIZZLING COLD CASE

  “This is a top notch book. I highly recommend it”

  “This book will keep you guessing and turning pages”

  “I stayed up all night to finish it.”

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

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  Other Sister Sleuth Mysteries

  Book Excerpt

  Box Set

  From the Author

  CHAPTER ONE

  At eight o’clock in the morning, Lieutenant Tom Elliot’s day was already ruined.

  • • •

  Tom paced the floor of his office at the Major Crimes Division waiting results from evidence obtained during a murder investigation conducted the previous night.

  “Where’s that security camera footage?” he hollered into the bullpen.

  “We’re reviewing it now, boss,” a voice yelled back.

  He stretched his arms above his six-foot-three frame to relieve tension and resumed his place behind a desk stacked with files.

  An officer tapped on the open door.

  “What is it, Pat?” Tom growled.

  Fisher lowered her head, the unwelcome bearer of bad news. “I hate to ruin your day, but we have something you should see.”

  They entered a room where the murder board was set up. Several officers surrounded a work table strewn with notepads, photos, and empty styrofoam cups. They moved aside to give the lieutenant a view.

  Pat pointed to a computer where black and white images danced across the screen. “There’s the storage place where the body was found.”

  Tom leaned over to get a closer view. He recognized the outline of a body next to an empty safe in the middle of the room.

  “That’s our crime scene, all right.” He straightened. “What did you want me to see?”

  Pat hit the rewind button. “These are the security cam recordings from previous days.”

  Pictures stamped with dates and times appeared on the screen.

  Tom experienced the sensation of being in a theater when a movie begins. He could almost imagine sounds of viewers munching popcorn. Except the scene unfolding before his eyes was all too real.

  Pat’s voice sounded tinny and far away. “As far as we know, these are the last people to see the victim alive.”

  In different sequences, the grainy silhouettes came to life in terrifying familiarity.

  Maddy Conley, his fiancé, and Warren Conley, a retired chief of police who would soon be his father-in-law.

  PART ONE

  ONE WEEK EARLIER

  CHAPTER TWO

  Warren followed his nose to the kitchen, led by the sweet smell of baking pastries.

  He poured himself a cup of coffee and hovered around Barbara while she extracted a tray of cinnamon rolls from the oven.

  “I thought that’s what I smelled. What’s the occasion? You typically bake those on nights when Jon stays over.”

  She placed the pastries on the counter and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Can’t I occasionally spoil you without getting the third degree?”

  He eyed her suspiciously, but she waved him away. “Let’s eat on the balcony. Take the pitcher of juice. I’ll join you as soon as I frost the buns.”

  He loomed over the bowl of frosting with a finger poised to dip.

  “Don’t you dare!” She swatted at him with a tea towel. “You’re worse than Jon.”

  On the balcony of the two-story condominium, Warren soaked in the morning sights and sounds of the Harbor. Boats bobbing and creaking as they tugged on lines securing them to the pier. Fishing crews shouting greetings across the water. The lingering blast of a fog horn as the sun replaced the morning mist.

  He breathed deeply, inhaling the fresh, salty air, and felt his heart fill with gratitude.

  If anyone had suggested a year ago that he and his wife would move to the small town where Lea and Maddy lived, he would have pooh-poohed the idea. But now, he and Barbara lived in a beautifully landscaped, gated complex overlooking the Buena Viaje Marina. And he and his daughters operated their own business, the Conley Austin Detective Agency.

  “You look thoughtful,” Barbara commented, placing a coffee pot and a plate of pastries on the table.

  “Just counting my blessings,” he said, reaching for a frosted bun. His eyes sparkled as he licked the icing dripping down the sid
es. “You know I’m a pushover for these. You’re buttering me up for something. Out with it.”

  She blew on her coffee to avoid his scrutiny. “You remember Judy Thomas and Marge Winston.”

  “The busybodies from the welcoming committee of the condominium association.”

  “Show a little respect, dear,” she scolded gently. “Marge is recently widowed. At any rate, they’re coming by this morning.”

  “I see. These sweets are for them, not me.” He wiped his hands. “Well, give them my regards.”

  “The pastries are for all of you. And they’ll be here before you leave.” The doorbell rang. “That must be them now.”

  Warren frowned. “I’ve been ambushed by a woman with frosted cinnamon rolls.”

  She blew him a kiss as she rescued the remaining pastries. “Come and say hello. It will only take a moment.”

  Warren grunted and poured himself another cup of coffee before making his way to the living room. “Something tells me I’ll be late getting to the office.”

  • • •

  Pleasantries were exchanged while Barbara seated and served her guests. Warren waited impatiently to hear the purpose of their visit.

  Judy eventually put her hand on the knee of the woman sitting beside her. “Go ahead, Marge. Tell them.”

  Everyone looked at Marge, and she got flustered. She ran her fingers through gray hair styled in a cut common to women her age and smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle on her skirt.

  “We shouldn’t have come. I hate to bother Barbara’s husband with my silly problems.”

  The three women looked expectantly at Warren. More than anything, he was a kind man with compassion. Sensing the woman’s anguish, his impatience dissolved.

  “Go ahead, Marge.” He leaned forward. “I’m interested to hear what you have to say.”

  She lowered her head. “I would hate you to think me a fool, but I’m afraid I’ve acted foolishly.”

  Warren smiled sympathetically. “We all do, from time to time. It’s part of our makeup.”

  His remark put her at ease and she continued. “After my husband passed, things changed. I never considered myself particularly dependent, but I hadn’t realized how little I understood about things he took care of.”

  “What things?”

  “He never wanted me to worry over finances so he took care of all the money matters including investments. Andrew enjoyed puttering around on the internet, buying stocks or gold and silver. He spent hours researching things to invest in. It was a hobby for him.”

  “I imagine that could interest me as well,” Warren said. “Due to my current lack of time, I leave those matters to investment advisors.”

  “That’s what I thought I was doing,” Marge said. The joy faded from her smile. “It’s what created the mess I’m in.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “I was faced with making decisions about finances, including where to invest our savings. When I received correspondence from an investment company, I naturally called to learn more. The representative was so sweet when I mentioned my husband’s passing. He called back several times and then asked if he could come to meet me.” Marge paused and laid a hand on her friend’s arm. “His name is Toby Turner. He’s even more charming in person. And quite nice looking.”

  “He came to your condo?” Judy asked, alarmed. “You should have told me so I could have been there. It’s not safe to invite strangers into your home.”

  “If I had concerns, I would have informed you. At the time, I felt I could trust him. Since then, I’ve grown worried about investments I made with him.” She lowered her head. “In retrospect, I imagine Toby may have sensed my loneliness—”

  “And lack of knowledge about money matters,” Judy added, scornfully.

  “If he preyed on your age or your status as a widow, you’re hardly alone,” Warren told her. “We live in an unethical society. There are unscrupulous people taking advantage in every business involving money.”

  “No question of that,” Barbara said, carrying the coffee carafe around the room. “The news is filled with those stories.”

  Warren held up his cup for a refill. “We all have to accept responsibility. Schools don’t teach ethics because someone might accuse them of teaching morality. It’s not a required course for a business degree, and employers don’t teach ethics in the workplace. Parents have also been lax in not teaching their children right from wrong.”

  His voice rose to an angry pitch. “We’ve raised an entire generation of people lacking integrity. Their concern is making money, regardless of right or wrong.”

  Barbara patted his arm. “Blood pressure, dear.”

  He breathed deeply and refocused on the issue at hand. “How did this Toby fellow make initial contact?”

  “By email,” Marge responded. “I assumed Andrew did business with the company at some point.”

  “They sent your husband an email?”

  She looked puzzled. “Now that you ask, it came directly to me.”

  “That’s odd,” Barbara remarked. “How did they get your email address?”

  She noticed her husband’s warning glance. “Sorry, Marge, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Go on with your story.”

  Marge grew defensive. “Even before Toby contacted me, I saw advertisements about gold and silver.”

  Judy scoffed. “Television is inundated with commercials encouraging people to invest their hard-earned money.”

  Warren signaled Marge to continue.

  “One program I saw talked about rolling IRA money into gold and silver. I decided that’s what I should do. It seemed a wise choice at the time.” She looked at her companion for approval. “You know how our friends talk about being afraid to leave their money in banks.”

  Judy’s voice filled with indignation. “You can’t trust banks, that’s for sure.”

  Barbara looked at her husband. “That’s true, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Warren stayed on topic. “If you don’t mind my asking, Marge, was your investment substantial?”

  The woman’s response was barely above a whisper. “Nearly our entire savings.”

  Both Judy and Barbara gasped.

  Warren diverted attention away from the shocking disclosure. “How much advice did Toby give about where to put your money?”

  “He steered me toward investing in gold coins, insisting they would give a good return on my IRA funds.”

  “Did you play a role in the purchases, or did you leave those decisions to the broker?”

  “I deferred to him since I know nothing about gold and silver.”

  “Did you keep track of your investment to see how things went?”

  “I started watching on-line quotes and got excited when gold and silver prices went up. Then I received a statement from the company handling my IRA. To my surprise, the balance in my account was less than half.”

  Barbara’s hand flew to her mouth. “How distressing! What did you do?”

  “I called Toby, demanding to know why my IRA account decreased when gold and silver values were rising. He gave me an unsatisfactory answer about the value of coins being difficult to determine. It made me wonder if the coins Toby said he bought were the actual coins I got.”

  “How can a person verify such a thing?” Judy asked.

  “By going to the vault where the coins are kept.”

  “Where’s the vault?”

  “Different companies use various locations throughout the country, but my coins are in a vault in Utah.”

  Judy threw up her hands. “He expected you to go all the way to Utah to check on your coins?”

  “I had no desire to make the trip. Instead, I convinced the IRA company to call on my behalf. We discovered the coins held in my name differed from those I thought I owned.”

  Barbara frowned. “Does that mean the coins in the vault in Utah weren’t yours?”

  Marge shook her head. “They were mine, all right. But they weren’t t
he coins the company represented they bought for me. These coins were of lesser value.”

  “In what regard?” Warren asked.

  “The year the coins were produced. The coins in the vault were new and didn’t have the value of vintage coins. I called Toby to complain. He assured me the company would fix it, but I had a funny feeling about it all.”

  Barbara stuck out her chin. “Those no good swindlers!”

  Warren raised his hand to cut her off. “But the event you recounted happened months ago, Marge. Why are you bringing the matter to my attention now?”

  “My doctor informed me last week I need a hip replacement. I got nervous about the buy-back rate of the coins in case I need to free up some money.”

  “Before you invested, did the company discuss how to liquidate?”

  “They guarantee the highest buy-back rate. It’s one of their strongest selling points.”

  “Have they lived up to their guarantee?”

  “I asked about a quarter-ounce coin I purchased for five hundred dollars.” Her shoulders slumped. “The company offered to buy it back for three hundred.”

  Judy expressed outrage. “They can’t be serious!”

  Marge wrung her hands. “Then I asked about a silver coin bought at a higher rate. Toby said the current buy-back rate was fifty percent of what I paid.”

  Barbara’s cheeks flushed. “I would have gone ballistic.”

  “That’s how I felt. But what can I do?”

  “You can start by contacting the agency which oversees investments,” Warren advised her.

  “Who would that be?” Barbara asked.

  “The Commodities Futures Trading Commission.”

  His wife looked puzzled. “Forgive me, dear, but what are commodities futures?”

  Warren smiled. “You’re not the only person confused by investment terminology. Commodities futures are agreements to buy or sell a raw material at a specific date in the future at a particular price. The contract is for a set amount. The three main areas of commodities are food, energy, and metals. The most popular food futures are for meat, wheat, and sugar. Most energy futures are for oil and gasoline. Metals using futures include gold, silver, and copper.”

  “Like the gold and silver Marge invested in?”

  “That’s right.”