Murder at the Bomb Shelter Read online

  Murder at the Bomb Shelter

  A Rosa Reed Mystery Book 3

  Lee Strauss

  Norm Strauss

  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

  Rosa & Miguel’s Wartime Romance

  Excerpt - Murder on the SS Rosa

  About the Authors

  Acknowledgments

  Summary

  Murder's a blast!

  Rosa Reed's holiday with the Forester Family in Santa Bonita has turned into an extended stay, and Rosa decides to make use of her Metropolitan Police training and sets up a private investigative business ~ just like her mother! But she finds she's not the only one who keeps business in the family, and when one of the members of the prestigious Gainer family is found dead in his bomb shelter, Rosa is invited to take on the case ~ much to Detective Miguel Belmonte's chagrin. If Rosa doesn't find the killer soon, the summer of '56 just might be her last.

  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

  Murder at Brighton Beach

  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

  Rosa Reed pedaled her Schwinn Deluxe Hollywood bicycle down the boulevard on another sunny Santa Bonita, California day. As she breathed in the sweet scent of sage and saline, she briskly rode down the slight incline toward Ron’s New and Used Cars. Over the last few weeks, she’d ridden by often, but today her heart fluttered with excitement as she approached the business establishment.

  Yesterday, while heading home from a short shopping trip with her brown tabby kitten, Diego—who rode in the front basket with his fuzzy face into the wind—she’d spied a new arrival on the car lot. She’d simply had to stop for a look. That polo-white, two-door 1953 Chevrolet Corvette Roadster convertible with red-leather interior had gripped her imagination, and at that moment, Rosa had fallen in love.

  One of only three hundred made that year, the automobile, with its serial number of 76, was already considered a collector’s item. Rosa had slid into the red-leather seat with Diego safely tucked into her satchel. When she’d revved the engine, the frame rumbled, and the powerful sound roared through the tailpipe, causing her to smile mischievously.

  With the top down, she’d test-driven the vehicle, riding north onto the Pacific Coast Highway—a warm August breeze mussing her short brown hair. She’d allowed herself a moment of thrill when she pressed harder on the accelerator. My mother would love this car! The thought made her laugh out loud as she thundered past the city limits sign, swirls of dust whipping in her disappearing wake.

  Upon returning to the lot, Rosa had immediately phoned her Aunt Louisa, the matriarch of the Forrester mansion, to arrange for temporary financing until she could get the money wired from the London bank that held her trust fund.

  “I’m part of the Forrester family,” she’d told the dealer. “I’ll be back tomorrow if you’d be kind enough to hold it for me.”

  By the look of respect at the mention of the Forrester family name—and perhaps a little fear, after all, Aunt Louisa’s reputation in the town was formidable—the dealer promised to hold it.

  Now, as Rosa signed the papers for ownership and registration, anticipation rushed through her. The days that lay ahead of her! Her recent decision to stay in Santa Bonita and set up a private investigation office instead of returning to her job as a police officer in London was further cemented by the purchase of this car.

  “You don’t mind stowing my bicycle for a day or so . . .” Rosa said, her voice a lively lilt. “. . . until I can arrange for it to be picked up.”

  “Not at all, Miss Reed,” the dealer said with a firm handshake and a grin as sparkling as Santa Bonita bay.

  Minutes later, Diego safely ensconced in her large satchel, Rosa pointed the Corvette toward the business district. She’d remembered to bring a
silk headscarf, the same pink color as her lipstick—her mother would approve—so her hair stayed neatly in place. A pair of gray-and-green Polaroid tortoiseshell sunglasses sat on her nose, and she steered her new steed along the roadway with gloved hands.

  She congratulated herself for staying in the right-hand lane. Rosa had learned to drive in America during the war years when she’d been shipped out of London to the safety her Aunt Louisa had offered. Shifting from her inclination to drive on the left was like riding a bike. Having a steering wheel on the left-hand side, rather than the right, helped with reorientation.

  Shortly afterward, Rosa parked her Corvette along the curb in front of an office building. Now, standing by the front entrance, she paused to admire her new car before stepping inside. Diego meowed softly from his spot inside the designer pink-and-yellow striped satchel that matched Rosa’s outfit. Her rose-and-yellow polka dotted swing dress had a row of large white buttons running down the bodice and a white patent leather belt accentuating her narrow waist. She’d finished off the outfit with yellow heels, the ankle straps tied into dainty bows. Rosa had discarded her first ragged satchel, a temporary accessory used when the need was urgent, and had accumulated several new cat-carrying bags to replace it.

  Her second-floor office was the last door on the left down the wide carpeted hallway that ran past several law firms and busy accounting businesses. A large window at the end of the hall overlooked the street below. Rosa stepped back to regard the freshly painted lettering on the frosted glass that made up the upper half of the oak door—Reed Investigations.

  A few days ago, when the sign painters had put the final touches on the lettering, she had snapped a picture of it to send to her parents. She knew they would burst with pride at the sight of her name on the door. Rosa had spent a large part of her youth working with her mother, Ginger Reed, at the office of Lady Gold Investigations and credited that time for her apparent aptitude for sleuthing. She’d also learned from her work as a female member of the London Metropolitan Police. As her father, Basil Reed, a superintendent at Scotland Yard, liked to say, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

  Rosa slid the key into the lock, opened the door, and gently put her satchel down on the blue, padded cushions of the teakwood, Danish-style sofa that served as reception area seating. Diego immediately jumped out to explore the room.

  With Gloria’s help—her cousin had decided to study interior design, and Rosa couldn’t help but wonder how long this particular passion would last—Rosa had outfitted the office to match the Spanish mission design of the building. Brightened by sunlight streaming in from a large window, the room had an impressive view of Santa Bonita’s business district. Green, leather-padded chairs circled a Spanish-mission-inspired coffee table. Adjacent to that was a matching desk. A set of shelves lined a portion of one wall, which Rosa planned to fill with books.

  She’d already ordered certain law reference books and other resources such as textbooks on modern forensics and police investigative practices. A few mysteries and detective novels she’d picked up at the local bookstore lined one of the shelves along with a set of history encyclopedias and certain literary works of famous authors like Mark Twain and Ralph Waldo Emerson.

  Rosa wanted the office to have a comfortable and inspiring ambiance. A kitchenette at one end of the office featured a small range, refrigerator, and cupboards for dishes and minimal food storage. A cast-iron bistro table sat in the corner with two chairs, which suited the Spanish terra-cotta tiling on the floor.

  An adjoining door opened to a darkroom, much like the one in her mother’s office in London. Rosa had purchased an Argus 35mm camera, like the one she had used for her police work. Not only was she adept at using the camera, but she also did a fine job developing the photographs. It was much faster and easier than taking the film to a photograph processing lab.

  Diego immediately curled up on a chair, while Rosa removed her sunglasses, scarf, and gloves and set them on a side table. Settling into her desk chair, she arranged her crinoline slip and her skirt then stared out of the window at the vehicles rumbling down the street.

  Rosa’s gaze settled on the recently installed black telephone, which seemed to mock her with its silence. For a moment, she felt a twinge of doubt. Had she been presumptuous in her decision to stay in California? Who was she to think that her assisting the Santa Bonita Police would cause anyone to seek her out for private investigating? Not only was she not American (her English accent an instant giveaway), but she was also a woman. Two definite strikes against her when it came to competing for work. And then there was Detective Miguel Belmonte—her pulse raced a little at the thought of him.

  The thought of returning to London made Rosa’s stomach twist. The social circle belonging to the elite in London was small, and she wasn’t ready to face her peers, or the tabloids who’d had a heyday after she’d abandoned her fiancé, Lord Winston Eveleigh, at the altar.

  And there was Larry. Rosa and the assistant medical examiner, Dr. Larry Rayburn, had been on several dates since she’d given him her number back in June, and she found his Texas charm delightful.

  Besides that, Aunt Louisa had made it clear that the Forrester mansion was Rosa’s home for as long as she wanted to stay. While her cousin Clarence had been indifferent, Gloria had been ecstatic. “Maybe I should take up journalism after all. We could work together!”

  “Who knows?” Rosa had replied, laughing. Her cousin’s mind changed like the wind. “Anything is possible. Let’s see what happens.”

  That seemed Rosa’s motto these days. Let’s see what happens, let the wind take the sails, or que sera sera, as she had recently heard Doris Day sing on the radio.

  The shrill ring of the telephone, a sound she hadn’t yet heard, startled Rosa. Who could it be? She hadn’t even given out her number to anyone. Perhaps someone who’d seen the advertisement she’d placed in The Santa Bonita Gazette, but it had only come out this morning. This couldn’t already be a client?

  “Miss Rosa Reed from Reed Investigations.” Rosa smiled to herself as she uttered the words for the first time.

  “Hello, Miss Reed.” The voice was throaty and female. “My name is Mrs. Gainer. I hope you can help me.”

  “I’ll do my best, Mrs. Gainer,” Rosa replied. “What is it that you need?”

  “I have four brothers-in-law, and one of them, Dieter Braun, is a particularly odd character, you see. Every family has one of those, don’t they?”

  Rosa agreed, her mind going to Aunt Louisa and Grandma Sally. “Sometimes, more than one.”

  “Well, Dieter’s been missing for four days, and I think he’s in trouble.” Mrs. Gainer’s voice grew somber. “I think he’s been kidnapped or…maybe even worse!”

  2

  Later that day, Mrs. Janet Gainer sat in a chair in front of Rosa’s desk. Dressed in an expensive-looking taffeta dress and an exquisite lace and crinoline trimmed half-hat, Mrs. Gainer had light-brown hair and an open, honest face. Fine lines around expressive blue eyes had Rosa guessing that the lady was in her late forties, but possibly older. Women of means tended to age well.

  Rosa removed a fresh notepad from her desk drawer along with her new Papermate ballpoint pen then stared across at Mrs. Gainer with interest. Mrs. Gainer’s attention, however, focused on Diego, who licked a paw and drew it over his forehead.

  “It appears now is as good a time as any for bathing,” Rosa said.

  Mrs. Gainer’s expression, up-to-now rather serious, softened into a smile. “He’s adorable. Can I hold him?”

  “Certainly, though I warn you, Diego’s rather naughty. A little fur ball of energy.”

  As was becoming typical, Diego had a way of making a liar out of Rosa. When Mrs. Gainer picked him up and placed him on her lap, he instantly purred while she stroked his back and tickled his ears.

  “I grew up on a farm just outside of Jefferson, Iowa,” Mrs. Gainer said with a note of pride. “We had at least a half-dozen cats at an
y given time living in our barn. As a little girl, I used to love going in there and playing with the kittens.”

  “I found him outside a bakery,” Rosa said. “I couldn’t resist.”

  “Oh, he’s so adorable!”

  Diego’s eyes got sleepy as Mrs. Gainer stroked the stripy spot on his nose right between his eyes.

  “When he wants to be,” Rosa chuckled. “He can sometimes be a stinker.” At least according to Aunt Louisa, who had rather had enough of Diego’s antics. “He likes to gift my aunt with fur balls.”

  As she glanced up at Rosa, Mrs. Gainer laughed lightly. “You have an accent. Is it Australian?”

  “No,” Rosa replied. “I’m from London.”

  Rosa sensed that Mrs. Gainer was avoiding the reasons for her visit and feared her potential client might be having a change of heart.

  “Mrs. Gainer, you came to me because you were worried about your family member. Would you like to tell me more?”