Sonoma Squares Murder Mystery

By Robert Digitale

Corpses in town squares.
A killer bent on terror.
A reporter about to become part of the story.
Wine Country becomes the backdrop for murder as young newspaper reporter Sandra Cordero gets caught in the schemes of a serial killer. Does he kill just so he can send Sandra clues from the victims' cell phones? Detective Zach Brown is trying to learn the answer and to test whether Sandra may be the key to ending the murders.
This serial, first published in the Santa Rosa Press Democrat, features 16 Sonoma writers collaborating to produce one fast-paced thriller.
Each chapter features a new voice and a new twist, from "Red Muumuu" set in posh Healdsburg, to "Scared of Noise," in which Sandra has just minutes to save a life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Digitale
• Release date: Jun 29, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476019840

Robert Digitale

A longtime reporter for the Santa Rosa Press Democrat, Robert Digitale was part of the newsroom staff that won the 2018 Pulitzer Prize for breaking news. The topic of their coverage: The North Bay wildfires of October 2017. Robert's front page story on the devastation of Santa Rosa's Coffey Park neighborhood was part of the packet of articles and video reviewed by the Pulitzer judges. Robert retired in 2018 after nearly four decades at the newspaper. During those years, he went to Texas to write about public schools and high-stakes testing. He was trounced at tennis by the late "Peanuts" creator Charles M. Schulz, and he had President Barack Obama (then a U.S. senator) put a hand on Robert's back in order to prevent a collision. (He still has the historic sports coat.) Robert at various times covered City Hall, education, commercial salmon fishing, real estate and Sonoma County agriculture.

Book preview

SONOMA SQUARES MURDER MYSTERY

By 16 Sonoma County Writers

Conceived and edited by Robert Digitale

Published by Franklin Park Press at Smashwords

Copyright © 2012 by Robert Digitale

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

To:

Santa Rosa Press Democrat Executive Editor Catherine Barnett, who first suggested publishing this story in the daily newspaper. Thank you for your encouragement.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1: RED MUUMUU by Dean A. Anderson

Chapter 2: MR. CROCODILE BOOTS by Meg McConahey

Chapter 3: THE MISSING PHONE by Jeremy Hay

Chapter 4: I PRAY SIC by Heather Chavez

Chapter 5: WHY SANDRA? by Linda C. McCabe

Chapter 6: CLOSE EYE ON YOU by Heather Irwin

Chapter 7: LISTENING IN by Ana Manwaring

Chapter 8: PHONE SECRET by Randi Rossmann

Chapter 9: UNWANTED EYES by Charles Markee

Chapter 10: THE RIDDLE by Crissi Dillon

Chapter 11: TEMPTING OFFER, by Chris Coursey

Chapter 12: SINKING FEELING, by Paul Gullixson

Chapter 13: DEATH WATCH, by John Hendrickson

Chapter 14: FACE-OFF, by Martin Espinoza

Chapter 15: HANDCAR REGATTA, by Frederick Weisel

Chapter 16: SCARED OF NOISE? by Robert Digitale

About This Story

Chapter 1 – Red Muumuu

BY DEAN A. ANDERSON

The little boy gazed forward paying no attention to the dead woman at his feet. Perhaps his concentration was on the neatly folded flag in his hands. Or perhaps he was distracted by the first rays of sunshine coming through the trees and touching the back of his head. Realists would insist that the true reason for his indifference was the fact that he was merely a statue, sculpted and placed in the Healdsburg Plaza to commemorate those who died in war.

Jennifer Willis, taking her early jog on that August summer morning, was not indifferent to the body. Willis’ screams woke guests in the inn on the south side of the Plaza and in the hotel on the west side of the Plaza. But it was a baker on the east side of the Plaza who called the police.

Officer Desiree Ransom of the Healdsburg police tried to question Ms. Willis and comfort her simultaneously, but soon decided there wasn’t much to learn from her beyond, I was jogging and I found this body. So she went about examining the body.

Officer Ransom tried to look without touching. The dead Caucasian woman appeared to be in her 40s, though many of those years could be attributed to mileage rather than chronology. Her hair was more yellow than blond and gray at the roots. Her face was heavily made up, but the make-up had been smeared by travel, or perhaps struggle.

Where is that forensics team? Ransom thought as she saw the half-dozen onlookers that were still keeping their distance.

The dead woman was wearing a red muumuu. Who still wears muumuus? Besides overweight dead women in town squares? And again, where is some back-up here? The red muumuu was not complemented by the other fashion accessories: hoop earrings, several cubic zirconium rings and, most strange of all, white high top tennis shoes covered with Chinese script.

Finally, Officer Nico Rodriquez pulled up, parking his squad car. He brought with him some yellow caution tape to ensure the increasing number of looky-loos stayed at a distance.

Friend of yours? Rodriquez asked.

Ransom assumed Nico was trying to prove he was completely comfortable with the situation by making a snarky remark from a television crime procedural. But she knew the rookie had so far only faced traffic and public drunkenness in the line of duty. She knew homicide was as unfamiliar to him as it was to her.

She was someone’s friend, so I suggest you treat her with respect.

Rodriquez put on an appropriate face of shame. Ransom couldn’t tell if it was real or not. Not that it mattered.

Have you found cause of death yet? he asked.

No. She didn’t see any lethal looking wounds on the visible flesh. Perhaps a fatal blow was hidden under that hideous dress. Perhaps she was felled by a heart attack or a stroke, but Ransom didn’t think so. For all she knew it could have been a poisoning, a freak accident or some nasty voodoo.

As Ransom thought through possibilities, she realized she had never even checked to be sure the woman was dead (though it would be hard to believe otherwise.) She lifted the woman’s left wrist to feel for a pulse. The coolness of the wrist said as much as