The South Hills Conspiracy

By L Anthony

Meet investigators Stacie Regent and Andrew Powell in the South Hills Conspiracy.
Andrew Powell, a depressed widow now alienated from his only son Jesse, a West Point drop out, is a far cry from his glory days as an LAPD Captain. Stacie Regent, forced to retire from the U.S. Marshall Service, struggles to recover from a life and death battle with breast cancer. The case of the disappearance of South Hills College Professor David Trutanich brings the duo together.
David Trutanich has garnered an unprecedented multimillion dollar grant to develop online curriculum for colleges across the nation. But in the process has he stumbled upon a major fraud conspiracy to funnel student loans into terrorist networks? His fiancée Samantha Collier left him to attend Oxford on a Rhodes scholarship. Will she regret her decision? Can David and Samantha overcome the conflicts in their careers and the disapproval of her mother Janet?
Follow the travels of David and Samantha as they journey across the Swiss Alps, France, Germany, England, and the Caribbean in a whirlwind romance. But will it last? Dangerous forces are at play seeking to keep them apart forever. Janet’s sudden departure causes Samantha to fear the worst, leaving David to bury himself in his work while seeking solace in her best friend Lana.
David’s success in internet education is matched by Samantha’s engineering prowess at her father’s manufacturing facility. Yet neither of them can find contentment with no one to share their achievements with. Meanwhile Andrew and Jesse’s relationship reaches a crossroad when Jesse becomes a police academy cadet and earns a job with an elite undercover drug enforcement unit.
Soon after David discovers troubling evidence linked to a student with a record, he disappears without a trace. Andrew charged with finding David by both the South Hills police chief and the College chancellor discovers that David’s estranged girlfriend Samantha is the only lead he has.
When Andrew learns that Samantha has gone hiking near Mt. Shasta, he heads off on a long desired road trip. Andrew enlists Samantha’s help finding David. Soon Stacie, Samantha and Andrew find themselves on a climbing adventure that doesn’t end until they have come face to face with wild animals, traversed treacherous terrain, and avoided calamitous earthquakes.
Jesse, having graduated to the big time, wonders if he is in over his head, alone in the wilderness of Lake Shasta when he learns that the drug dealers he thought he knew are in fact ruthless killers planning the fates of their next victims. If only he could talk to Andrew, Jesse realizes too late that his angry rebellious attitude may cost him more than a chance to make up with his father.
As they help Samantha get closer to David’s trail, Andrew and Stacie grow closer in their feelings for one another. What they begin to see is that they just might represent the last chance they have at happiness. The climactic confrontation looms with a harrowing encounter on a houseboat for Jesse and a rescue attempt to prevent David from being buried alive.
Just when it seems they are out of the woods, Andrew is found close to death. In the aftermath even Janet finds herself attempting to flee the clutches of a felon, only to be freed by the man she wanted no part of.
The South Hills Conspiracy is an action adventure mystery with a romantic twist. Genre readers will have a feast of fun. Join the newly formed team of Stacie Regent and Andrew Powell as they begin their partnership as gumshoe detectives. L. Anthony

• Language: English
• Publisher: L Anthony
• Release date: Oct 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310237010

L Anthony

L. Anthony is an Army veteran and former police investigator. He is a professor of criminal justice in Southern California

Book preview

The South Hills Conspiracy

By L Anthony

Published by L Anthony at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 L Anthony

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold

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work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 - David Trutanich, Past and Present

Chapter 2 - Reckonings

Chapter 3 - Ides of April

Chapter 4 - New Years in Paris

Chapter 5 - The Search Begins

Chapter 6 - Samantha and Stacie

Chapter 7 - Conquering Shasta

Chapter 8 - Conspiracy Theories

Chapter 9 - Gold Diggers

Chapter 10 - Jumping Ship

Chapter 11 - Violent Predators

Chapter 12 - Secrets Revealed

Chapter 13 - A Lucky Find

Chapter 14 - Samantha’s Folly

Chapter 1

Saturday August 2, 2003 South Hills, California

He needs us to sign, Cassandra. Andrew looked over at his wife. Her cafe au lait skin and narrow cheek bones highlighted the large round eyes that completed a look Andrew thought of as Egyptian regal. At that precise moment she turned from the vanity mirror and stared back at him. A challenge he refused to back down from.

He's seventeen. The Army requires parental consent before age eighteen.

I know how old he is. Don't sit there and tell me what I know. I also know this country has been at war less than five months, a war I oppose in every way, Stone. People are being killed, being blown up every day. Don't tell me you want me to give my baby permission to get involved in that. No.

When she turned back to the mirror to do her eye lashes Andrew saw her watching for his reaction in the reflection.

That would be five years from now, if ever. Jesse has four years at the academy to complete first, which begins a year from now assuming he gets accepted. And that's only half of it. He also has to garner a congressional nomination, an even harder requirement. Only a handful is awarded each year. But just think about it, Cass. Do you realize what could happen in five years? That's an eternity in terms of armed combat. It could long be over before then. Signing for him to go to the academy is not volunteering him to fight in Iraq. Andrew stood and walked past her into the bathroom. He ran cold water in the sink and scooped his palms underneath, splashing his face with it. Looking up in the mirror he didn't see a highly regarded fifty something police chief. Instead, he saw a tired looking, gray haired, middle aged man, who had failed to convince his wife that one agreement over a family matter was so vitally important.

Determined that the outcome of this conflict would serve as a referendum on their relationship, Andrew closed the faucet and went back to Cassandra, dripping water as he pressed a cream colored towel hard against his forehead.

This isn't just the Army. It's West Point. The-

I know what the hell it is. Can you stop for one minute trying to tell me what I know? God help me.

Andrew paused, his hands dropping beside him, the towel falling to the floor. It wasn't only that his authority in the family was being questioned. Those attacks had begun long ago. This was also about respect. Cassandra had proven herself to be every bit his equal as an investigator, perhaps his superior. His wife was the head of the fraud unit for a major insurance company, which garnered a substantial six figure income that dwarfed his. Why should she listen to him? His argument had to not only be persuasive but also on the right side, if there was one.

I apologize. But I have to tell you why you should sign.

Go ahead then, tell me, please. I gotta here this. She put her brush down, swiveled the stool around, and crossed her arms, waiting. Andrew sat back on the bed, bending down to retrieve the towel as he did so.

Your position is based on emotion, which may not be the best way to inform your decisions. Because of that you are missing the main focus of what this is about.

Uh huh, right. Why does this feel like another lecture?

What I'm trying to say is that it's not about you, yet you're acting as if it is. As a mother your instincts are to protect your child. And while I admire that I see Jesse for who he really is.

And I don't?

No, I'm afraid you don't, not in this case. He is seventeen. Your child but not a child. You act as if eighteen is a magic number and you get to make all the choices right up until his birthday but that's just not the reality. He is already grown up. A man making difficult decisions about his own life. If you presume to do this for him you aim to take away the very thing he has earned a right to. It is his future Cass, not yours, can you see that? Can't you also see that if by refusing to sign and preventing him from his dream, you won't be on his side? Aren't we supposed to be on his side? Instead you will forever be on the wrong side.

Forever.

For the rest of Jesse's life and that will be a very long time.

It had better be, Andrew.

Andrew watched as his wife stood and left the room, walking down the hall to the table where her purse was sitting by the front door. She picked up a pen and signed the document beside her purse. Cassandra took one last look at Andrew and left the house without a word.

He walked into the kitchen and took a beer can from the fridge. Standing at the window he watched Cassandra backing her car down the driveway. As he drank the cold beverage he calculated the cost of that hard fought victory. The argument had been won yes, but something much greater had been sacrificed in the exchange. Ironically it reminded him of Viet Nam. He'd seen any number of similar battles won there, only to discover later that the price paid was far in excess of the value.

#

Hermosa Beach, California

The Dean of Humanities, on behalf of the South Hills College community, hereby offers to David Alexander Trutanich, PhD. the position of Professor of Philosophy, tenure track. Upon accepting this offer, you will be placed in the department effective with the start of Fall Semester Monday, August 25th.

So, is this your marriage proposal?

Samantha tossed the letter back to David, dropping to one knee just as he reached for it, and by doing so causing the paper to slide under the table and fall, first to the bench, then breeze blown, it floated over to the edge of the pool where it teetered above the water.

David kept his eyes on Samantha while effortlessly snatching the letter before slipping it between the pages of his novel. Why, because of your father's opinion that any man worthy of marrying you had to first prove he had the ability to take care of your basic needs?

Folding her arms, Samantha rolled her head back and leaned away from him. Late afternoon sunlight filtering through the low hung branches of a black walnut transformed her face into a bright cameo, causing her fair skin to glisten with radiant warmth. Something about the sight of a beautiful woman made David feel good inside. The tension he'd felt opening the envelope was now supplanted by calm. The frustration building inside him, wrinkling his brow and straining his neck, abated as he assessed the curves of her body. Even his sense that Samantha and Charles Collier might be working against him, as paranoid as it sounded, was now displaced as a quiet stillness filled his mind.

David appreciated that Samantha's athletic figure was an appearance of power combined with grace. It was born of the hardwood floors and beach sand courts where she'd practiced thousands of hours of volleyball drills. The same long delicate hands now encircling her well defined biceps were instantly capable of applying a crushing blow to a ball spike or hammering a block back into an opponent's face.

His unfocused haze was abruptly startled back to clarity by the sight of her rushing towards him. Layers of red tresses billowed around him as she tilted her head down, cradled his face in her fingertips, and lowered her lips to his. The smell of butterscotch with the taste of honey accompanied each light touch of her soft kisses.

As he reached up to hold her she pushed hard against his chest with both hands and laughed. David lost his balance, bracing himself in the overstressed lounge chair that registered its complaint with a whine.

Laughing harder now as she watched him struggle, Samantha tugged loose her bikini straps. Come here doctor, and let me show you how to fill my basic needs, she said as she dove backwards, and with a slight splash, slid beneath the surface of the water.

#

Sitting in the Jacuzzi Samantha relaxed her aching muscles and sank neck deep. She felt the water bubble up against her face as hot steam forced her eyes to close. Shivering despite the heat as water tickled her ears, Samantha inhaled. The strong smell of Chlorine flared in her nostrils and she lifted her head, squinting towards the sun. Using a left-hand salute to shield herself from the brightness, Samantha groped around blindly for her towel, finding purchase as the fingers of her right hand cuffed a pair of sunglasses folded inside.

Mercifully shaded from the glare, she saw that David was face down on the deck just out of reach. His bronzed body was stretched out to its full six foot length. The damp curls in his dark brown hair looked even tighter than usual. He could use a haircut, she thought. She liked his hair much shorter. Reminiscing back to the first time they met at the University of Southern California, Samantha visualized David as he was leaving his doctoral dissertation that day, wearing his brown tweed suit, toting a vintage vellum case, sporting round wire rimmed glasses and a short, close cut hairstyle. All together it offered a very tempting package, though she once teased him that he must have gleaned his look from the cover of prep school quarterly.

Samantha, who had been sitting on a bench outside Mudd Hall at the time, focused her camera on David and squeezed out several shots, the shutter clicking loud enough for him to turn towards the direction of the sound and look right into the lens. She froze when their eyes met. His were dark and deep set, but it was what she thought she saw behind them that momentarily held her. They seemed be saying, 'I know what you're thinking.' It was a meeting to remember.

It occurred to her that David had been speaking though she couldn't tell for how long.

Excuse me, he said.

You most probably are wondering what I'm doing, right? Samantha was grinning, her head canting slightly left of vertical.

Pleased to meet you. I'm David Trutanich. He smiled amiably and reached out his right hand.

She dropped her camera, letting it dangle on the strap around her neck and shook with him, Samantha Collier. I'm sorry, but do you mind if I take your picture?

Funny you should ask as apparently you already have. Is that typical of you, to just take what you want when you see it?

Samantha blushed. The rose in her cheeks quickly coloring until they closely approached the shade of her hair. She looked down and saw her face reflected on the display screen of the digital camera, hopelessly watching the color growing redder with her discomfort. When she looked up she saw that David's eyes still had a startling intensity to them and they still were looking directly into hers.

Let me guess, he continued. You're a rush pledge and your assignment was to photograph the first person to leave the building?

Actually I'm conducting research on universal design for my senior engineering project. The tone of Samantha's retort was a touch formal in reaction to his teasing taunt.

Of course, why didn't I think of that? Now clarify for me please will you, how exactly am I a subject for engineering?

Let me explain. Please let me explain.

I'll tell you what. I've just finished an extensive interview and I'm starving. I'll let you explain if you let me buy you lunch. Deal?

That very first date, she thought. A year later and she was planning to marry this man. How did that happen? He'd shown how much he admired her. He respected Samantha and the achievements she'd accomplished so far in her life. Was she more knowledgeable than David about some things? Yes. Did that intimidate him? No. Those and other qualities helped him fast become her fan, confidant, confessor, and friend. For once the attraction wasn't about her volleyball feats. David didn't do sports. But he was definitely athletic. He ran, far and fast. Marathons, 5Ks, 10Ks, whatever. He'd roll out of bed in the morning and do ten. Miles. He said that when he ran his thoughts were clearest. Ideas just popped into his head. Samantha marveled at that. To her running equaled pain and pain was something to avoid at all costs. This explained why she was presently at David’s place when her family was spending the weekend at their Catalina Island cottage to celebrate her mother’s fiftieth birthday.

David actually offered to go with her, encouraging her to use it as a chance to make up with Janet. But in her mind he couldn't possibly understand. Not when his family was so cohesive. Well adjusted and without drama, she'd told him after getting to know them over the Christmas break. Samantha wondered, and not for the first time, if that wasn't at the root of their relationship. Knowing that David had lived what she so badly dreamed of having as a wife and mother, but had never experienced growing up.

The pang of that memory drove her to think of her mother. She should at least call Janet. But Samantha would have to face the problem of how to explain why she wasn't there. Without fabricating an elaborate story, which she couldn't justify doing, the conversation was doomed to deteriorate into so much strife that everyone would end up angry, bitter, or both, and wouldn't that be just the perfect gift?

David! she screamed. Ooooooh! Ice cold water had struck her full in the face. David was laughing while hiding behind a towel he held up as a shield against any possible retaliation on her part. You know what buster? That settles it. I accept your proposal. You will have to marry me now.

#

Commencement Week 2008 South Hills College, South Hills, California

Andrew Stonewall Powell, commandant of the South Hills Police Academy, walked slowly across the grounds. He stopped to check his uniform tie in the mirrored glass wall of the student union. Donning the uniform was such a rare occurrence since his retirement as chief of the South Hills Police Department last year that people on campus often stared - not recognizing him - or the uniform. He smiled now as a groundskeeper he knew did a double take, the same smile he'd used a number of times when staff reacted similarly. He preferred a business suit after 35 years of wearing the uniform but was pleased to see that his physique was still capable of presenting a striking image. The tailored navy blue 100% Gabardine wool size 32 waist trousers and form fit long sleeve shirt covered his 6-3 200 pound frame well. Today was a special occasion as he was presiding over the first academy class graduation since he'd taken over. He was on his way to the chancellor's office, presumably to report on the status of the class and the prospects of the graduates.

Andrew answered his cell phone thinking it was the update on the ceremony he had requested. Hello?

Is this PFC Powell?

Carl Manway, how are you old buddy?

I called to see if you were going to the reunion.

You know I never miss it.

Really? I just don't know how a big shot LAPD Captain has time for a bunch of washed up Viet Nam vets.

Carl you know I left LAPD years ago when South Hills PD hired me as Chief of Police.

Ha ha, I still can't believe that. The only private I ever met who could defy every order he ever got. Tell me, did they finally come to their senses and realize who they put in charge in time to can your behind?

I retired before they could, thank you very much. Listen Carl, it's good to hear from you. I'll see you on the 4th. I gotta run. Duty calls.

I hope you're happy, Powell. Are you?

I guess Carl. Can I call you back later? I'm short on time now.

Sure.

Thanks, bye.

Andrew was puzzled by the phone call somehow, though he couldn't tell why. He made a mental note to confirm travel plans for the reunion.

When he reached the administration building he spotted the familiar blue and white Expedition that had been assigned to him while at the helm of SHPD. Just inside the reception area he found the current key holder for the police command vehicle.

Afternoon Stoney. The olive skinned man smiled beneath a salt and pepper mustache as he grasped Andrew's hand with both arms and shook vigorously.

Surprised to see you, Kenneth. I thought you were in D.C. for the Police Officers Memorial Day, your friend George sent you a personal invite, so I heard.

Kenneth Hand spread his arms wide, palms up, offering a silent demur to either confirm or deny the rumor.

So are you here for graduation then? We have some top prospects if you're looking to increase the ranks.

As a matter of fact we just might be. However at the moment I came out at the request of Chancellor Marisol. We should go in now as I believe she's waiting.

Inside Andrew inspected the impressive decor. A 19th century George II tea table sat at the west end of the long rectangular office. Surrounding it was a century old Queen Anne style sofa with a teal butterfly leaf pattern, sitting opposite of a pair of handsomely upholstered Viceroy chairs. Her conference table was actually a quarter-sawn oak, French parquet topped dining table with intricately carved legs. At the far end of the room Marie Marisol sat behind an English Victorian mahogany partner's desk.

Welcome gentlemen, she rose quickly and ushered them over to the sofa, playing hostess. Would you like some tea? You are no doubt well aware that my French Canadian father could not squelch the penchant for an indulgence of the afternoon brew that I inherited from my Devonshire born and bred mother.

A pot seemed to materialize out of nowhere, along with a plate of scones. As a warm, sweet aroma passed through him, Andrew felt good. He perceived that Marisol was more than simply a tea lover. She had apparently learned to take full advantage of the intoxicating effect created when good food and beverages were consumed. It was a powerful tool when used on a target audience. A wicked grin spread across his face as he took notice. The petite, fair haired and effervescent woman was more than meets the eye. Andrew and Marie sipped tea while Kenneth fondled a water bottle as the trio settled into the business at hand.

Andrew, Kenneth and I agree that a situation has developed for which you are uniquely suited.

Situation? Andrew glanced at Kenneth who was reading the small print on the bottle's label. He eyed Marie. She sat down her tea cup and began dressing a scone with cream.

Yes. Professor David Trutanich is missing.

I know David; he's in the Philosophy department.

That's correct. And Kenneth was kind enough to file a report.

Not only that, Kenneth said. As a matter of procedure we conducted a master search in the justice database, ran a standard credit check, queried passport hits with ICE, and even got a court order for phone records. But as you know Andrew, what we've done is well beyond the level of follow up expected for a voluntary missing adult. All searches came up negative and no evidence of a crime has been uncovered.

So there is nothing more you can do at this point, Andrew concluded.

There is, however, something you can do, Marie interjected. You can pick up where SHPD has left off. You have experience with these cases. You also have time. After graduation today you've a summer session with no current classes. Lastly, you'll have the full support of both the college and SHPD. Will you help us Andrew?

One question, if I may, why the urgency? After all he is on sabbatical. I know because I sat on the selection committee. If he isn't covering classes right now then how can you be certain he's really missing? He could be anywhere.

Marie swallowed the bite she was chewing, refilled her cup and tasted it. Well Andrew, I remember that you were on the committee. Of course I did sign the authorization for his sabbatical. It was an original concept in my opinion. As one of our pioneering faculty in the area of online instruction, David had designed a highly efficient program within the philosophy department.

Yes I read about that.

What you probably are not aware of is his plan to research the feasibility of expanding the program across the campus and perhaps the nation.

No I wasn't. That sounds quite ambitious.

"It is, as is David. Why so