Murder on the Boardwalk

  Murder on the Boardwalk

  a Rosa Reed Mystery

  Lee Strauss

  Denise Jaden

  Contents

  Summary

  More from Lee Strauss

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Rosa & Miguel’s Wartime Romance

  Murder at the Bomb Shelter Sneak Peek

  About the Authors

  Acknowledgments

  Summary

  Murder's such a shock!

  When Rosa Reed—aka WPC Reed of the Metropolitan Police—and her cousin Gloria decide to spend a fun-filled afternoon in 1956 at the fair on the boardwalk in Santa Bonita, California, they're in for a shocking surprise. After a ride assistant's death by electrocution is determined to be murder, Rosa finds herself entangled once again with her high school sweetheart, Detective Miguel Belmonte. Should she catch the next flight to London before she loses her heart again? Or worse, her life?

  More from Lee Strauss

  On AMAZON

  THE ROSA REED MYSTERIES

  (1950s cozy historical)

  Murder at High Tide

  Murder on the Boardwalk

  Murder at the Bomb Shelter

  Murder on Location

  Murder and Rock ’n Roll

  GINGER GOLD MYSTERY SERIES (cozy 1920s historical)

  Cozy. Charming. Filled with Bright Young Things. This Jazz Age murder mystery will entertain and delight you with its 1920s flair and pizzazz!

  Murder on the SS Rosa

  Murder at Hartigan House

  Murder at Bray Manor

  Murder at Feathers & Flair

  Murder at the Mortuary

  Murder at Kensington Gardens

  Murder at St. George’s Church

  The Wedding of Ginger & Basil

  Murder Aboard the Flying Scotsman

  Murder at the Boat Club

  Murder on Eaton Square

  Murder by Plum Pudding

  Murder on Fleet Street

  LADY GOLD INVESTIGATES (Ginger Gold companion short stories)

  Volume 1

  Volume 2

  Volume 3

  HIGGINS & HAWKE MYSTERY SERIES (cozy 1930s historical)

  The 1930s meets Rizzoli & Isles in this friendship depression era cozy mystery series.

  Death at the Tavern

  Death on the Tower

  Death on Hanover

  A NURSERY RHYME MYSTERY SERIES(mystery/sci fi)

  Marlow finds himself teamed up with intelligent and savvy Sage Farrell, a girl so far out of his league he feels blinded in her presence - literally - damned glasses! Together they work to find the identity of @gingerbreadman. Can they stop the killer before he strikes again?

  Gingerbread Man

  Life Is but a Dream

  Hickory Dickory Dock

  Twinkle Little Star

  THE PERCEPTION TRILOGY (YA dystopian mystery)

  Zoe Vanderveen is a GAP—a genetically altered person. She lives in the security of a walled city on prime water-front property alongside other equally beautiful people with extended life spans. Her brother Liam is missing. Noah Brody, a boy on the outside, is the only one who can help ~ but can she trust him?

  Perception

  Volition

  Contrition

  LIGHT & LOVE (sweet romance)

  Set in the dazzling charm of Europe, follow Katja, Gabriella, Eva, Anna and Belle as they find strength, hope and love.

  Sing me a Love Song

  Your Love is Sweet

  In Light of Us

  Lying in Starlight

  PLAYING WITH MATCHES (WW2 history/romance)

  A sobering but hopeful journey about how one young German boy copes with the war and propaganda. Based on true events.

  A Piece of Blue String (companion short story)

  THE CLOCKWISE COLLECTION (YA time travel romance)

  Casey Donovan has issues: hair, height and uncontrollable trips to the 19th century! And now this ~ she's accidentally taken Nate Mackenzie, the cutest boy in the school, back in time. Awkward.

  Clockwise

  Clockwiser

  Like Clockwork

  Counter Clockwise

  Clockwork Crazy

  Clocked (companion novella)

  Standalones

  As Elle Lee Strauss

  Seaweed

  Love, Tink

  1

  Lines of gently swaying palm trees and stucco Spanish mansions were set against a cloudless blue sky, and Miss Rosa Reed, known in rainy London, England as WPC Reed of the Metropolitan Police, thought the endless sunshine would never get old. She strolled away from the Forrester mansion in Santa Bonita, California, with her cousin Gloria at her side.

  “We need to find you a fuller crinoline,” Gloria said, playfully nudging Rosa with an elbow as they neared one of the Forrester vehicles, a two-tone yellow Chevrolet Bel Air parked in the driveway.

  Not once in her life in London had Rosa been criticized for her wardrobe. With a mother who owned one of London’s highbrow Regent Street dress shops, Rosa had grown up under the influence of stylish and quality fashion, the kind that certainly turned heads in the United Kingdom. Apparently, the California coast was a different story as Rosa had been encouraged more than once to wear something a little brighter, a little tighter, or today, a little fuller.

  Then again, those suggestions had come from Gloria and might have said more about Rosa’s spirited cousin than they did about California fashions. Already, Rosa regretted giving in to Gloria’s pleas to accompany her to the fair recently set up at the boardwalk. Rosa preferred the quiet of her bedroom—hers at the Forrester mansion felt as cozy and comfortable as her room at Hartigan House in South Kensington—and a good book. Rosa had a stack resting on her night table, from mystery fiction to the latest in forensic science developments. She’d raided the Forrester mansion library shortly after she’d arrived in Santa Bonita, and had tipped one of the maids to make a run to the local library for her (not daring to go there herself for reasons she’d rather not think of at this time). The gentle purring and warm companionship of her kitten, Diego, was all the socializing Rosa desired, and with a deep breath she had to brace herself for the cacophony sure to come.

  Not wanting to face Gloria’s wrath if she changed her mind, Rosa was determined to be a good sport. Gloria looked adorable and rather youthful—seven years Rosa’s junior, Rosa often felt ancient at twenty-eight in Gloria’s presence—in her pink flared skirt with an embroidery of a sizable French poodle and flat black-and-white leather saddleback shoes.

  Gloria stood with one hand on one tiny hip and the other stretched out, palm open. “Keys?”

  “Why?”

  “You’ve driven it all week. Besides, you have Diego to concern yourself with.”

  Rosa peeked into her tapestry handbag, or satchel, as she liked to call it, where her kitten slept soundly. She’d chosen the satchel more for the comfort of Diego, a brown tabby kitten Rosa had recently rescued, than she had for how it complimented her sky-blue swing dress—the one without a large enough crinoline, apparently—and matching Juliette cap.

&nbs
p; Diego had an adventurous personality and didn’t, for the most part, cause Rosa any concern when she took him along. A rather fortuitous discovery, since Aunt Louisa had insisted that Rosa keep the kitten with her and not leave “that scraggly thing” behind unless either Gloria or the Forrester housekeeper, Señora Gomez, was available to watch him.

  Rosa suppressed her strong feelings of apprehension as she handed over the coveted keys. “Drive carefully!” With an exaggerated shudder, she added, “The way you command a car reminds me of my mum.”

  “Oh, I love Aunt Ginger!” Gloria smirked at Rosa before snatching the keys. “I don’t suppose you’d like to trade mothers?” She laughed before Rosa could come up with a suitable quip and hopped into the driver’s side of the Bel Air. In moments, the large engine rumbled to life.

  “Why Do Fools Fall in Love” played on the radio, and Rosa mused at how apropos it was for her, the fool who fell in love with Miguel Belmonte, her former American flame and who, as fate would have it, was no longer single.

  Gloria, looking away from the road more often than Rosa would have liked, announced, “I’m sure we’ll see people I know at the boardwalk. In fact, you might run into some of your friends from high school.”

  Though born and raised in London, Rosa had spent her high school years in Santa Bonita. Her parents had felt an urgent need to get her out of harm’s way during the Second World War, and Rosa suspected some of that angst was due to their involvement with the British secret service, though she could never get them to admit to it to her.

  The highway wound along the coast. As Gloria chattered on about the funfair at the boardwalk, Rosa gazed at the gleaming sun. The ball of fire hung over the beach, and blue water rushed to the shore. The scene looked like a postcard picture. In the distance, she saw the Santa Bonita Pier. Bright red bars lined a giant Ferris wheel at the edge of the water.

  Almost missing the exit, Gloria stomped on the brake and spun onto the ramp to guide them off the highway just in time.

  “Gloria!” Rosa pressed a hand on the Bel Air’s sleek crocus-yellow dashboard. “For crying out loud!”

  “Oh, chili-pop, honey.” Gloria glided around a bend that momentarily hid the ocean, then continued along a curvy road that led them down a steep decline. Rosa didn’t relax until they were level with the water.

  Gloria managed to squeeze into a parking spot without scratching the paint. Rosa could only imagine how Clarence, Gloria’s older brother, took to the odd scuffs sure to appear on the Forrester vehicles.

  Rosa reached for her satchel. Diego was awake and no worse for wear.

  “Hi, sweetie,” Rosa cooed and reached in to pat him. “You’ve already had your first fair ride, poor thing.”

  Gloria pretended offense, blowing loudly through lips thick with tangerine-colored lipstick. She led the way to the back of the gravel parking lot and down a short dirt path. Then, quite suddenly, the trail opened to more bright colors and tiny lights than Rosa had ever seen in one place. It was as though Christmas had come early and had exploded across the pier.

  “It’s stunning!” Rosa said, stopping. Now that they were closer, she could see not only the brightly lit Ferris wheel set against the brilliant blue sky, but also several carnival game tents, a ride with spinning cars, and even a roller coaster! The salty air she’d become accustomed to in the last two weeks took on a new aroma with smells of buttered popcorn and warm sugar.

  “It is, isn’t it?” Gloria grasped Rosa’s hand and pulled her toward the lights and the action.

  “You’ll have to show me how it’s all done,” Rosa said while gazing around in awe. She slid her new Riviera sunglasses up onto her forehead to get a clearer view.

  They walked onto the base of the pier, and only then could Rosa see most of the exciting ocean-side fair. A large platform sat inland and seemed to hold most of the amusement rides, including the giant roller coaster that made Rosa’s stomach turn upside down just watching it. The Ferris wheel turned its slow and steady circles at the farthest end of the pier. Along the boardwalk and pier, numerous game tents were busy with customers and “carnies” yelling, “Step right up! Be our next winner!”

  As Rosa and Gloria meandered down the pier, the dings and clanks and shouts from the carnival games were soon drowned out by lively upbeat swing music.

  “Is there a band here?” Rosa asked.

  Gloria answered glibly, “Mick and the Beat Boys are playing tonight. They’re often here on weekends. Isn’t that neat?”

  Rosa’s pulse jumped at the mention of the band’s name. The “Mick” in question was the nickname of Detective Miguel Belmonte. She groaned inwardly. So much for keeping her distance from the man.

  Very few people knew of the short but intense romance she and Miguel Belmonte had shared eleven years ago. Eleven years. The four months they’d spent falling in love was just a blip now on Rosa’s timeline. Ancient history. But despite her best efforts, her body still reacted to the mention of his name.

  “There’s an amphitheater just ahead, with a dance floor.” As Gloria led the way, a gaggle of ladies that Gloria recognized joined them. She called out hello and waved, and the gaggle moved toward them. Turning to Rosa, she added, “See, I told you we’d know people here.”

  We seemed like the wrong pronoun, but as Gloria leaned for quick hugs, recognition dawned. A few were familiar to Rosa, and one was particularly familiar.

  A lack of teachers during Rosa’s high school years in Santa Bonita had combined students of all ages in large classrooms. More times than Rosa could count, they had turned out the school lights and blacked out windows when an oil field was bombed, or a firebomb was discovered somewhere within California.

  “You remember Marjorie, right?” Gloria said, motioning to a pretty girl in a green A-line dress with a black-and-white polka-dotted under layer. She wore her bright-red hair in a long ponytail.

  “Rosa Reed!” Marjorie said with a sparkle in her eye. “It’s so nice to see you.” She sprang forward to give Rosa a hug, which momentarily surprised Rosa. This very non-English custom of hugging at every hello and goodbye took some getting used to.

  “Hello!” Rosa said. Marjorie Davidson had transformed from a girl to a woman in the eleven years Rosa had been gone. “You’re all grown up!”

  Rosa recognized Joyce Kilbourne and Pauline Van Peridon before Gloria could announce them.

  “Hello, ladies,” Rosa said. They both wore less flashy dresses, Joyce, a slender brunette in violet and Pauline with a boyish-figure, in navy. If anyone needed a fuller crinoline, it was Pauline.

  “Hi, Rosa.”

  Pauline’s voice was soft and gentle. Rosa remembered how Pauline had suffered from shyness as a child.

  “Hi, Pauline. So nice to see you again.”

  Pauline covered her mouth when she said, “I forgot all about your accent!”

  “I’d argue that you’re the ones with the accent,” Rosa said warmly.

  Joyce grasped both of Rosa’s hands, leaned in, and kissed her on the cheek. “Oh, Rosa! It’s been too long.”

  To the brunette who had only just stepped into the group behind Marjorie, Gloria said, “And you must remember Nancy.”

  Rosa’s emotions were in a state of disorder as she stared at the young lady with honey-blond hair who gaped back. Older now, Nancy Davidson—now Kline—had her hair styled shorter, and a little more weight rested on her hips and face, but her round blue eyes and cute ski-jump nose were unmistakable.

  “Hello, Nancy,” Rosa said, stepping closer.

  Nancy had been Rosa’s American best friend during her days in Santa Bonita through the war years. Practically attached at the hip, they’d done homework together, discovered fashion and boys together, and ultimately, Nancy was the only one to know about Rosa’s forbidden affair with Miguel Belmonte.

  The girls had continued to write after Rosa returned to London, but like with Miguel, the effort became too difficult over time. Because Nancy had invited Rosa to her
wedding, Rosa had felt compelled to ask Nancy to hers. She had not expected Nancy would come. Or reply, for that matter, and she hadn’t.

  Without smiling, Nancy said, “I heard you were back in town.”

  Whether Gloria’s impulse to pull the other girls away was an act of sensitivity or merely a need to move things along, Rosa was thankful for a moment to speak with Nancy alone.

  “I’ve been meaning to look you up.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I ran into your mother the other day at the bakery. She said you’ve been busy. Three boys?”

  “Yes, Eddie junior, Johnny, and Mikey, ages ten, eight, and six.” Nancy risked a smile. “A right handful. Mom’s a champ about taking them occasionally so I can forget I’m an old married woman and pretend to be Marjorie’s age again.”

  Rosa returned the smile. “It’s why I like hanging out with Gloria.”

  “Are you here on your honeymoon?” Nancy’s eyes darted about in search of Rosa’s phantom spouse.

  Rosa frowned. “I didn’t go through with the wedding.” Rosa had done a horrible thing to Lord Winston Eveleigh and walked, rather run, out of St. George’s Church before saying I do. “It’s a good thing you didn’t come.”