Buried at the Lake: A Luca Mystery Read online

  Buried at the Lake

  A Luca Mystery Book 13

  Dan Petrosini

  Copyright Dan Petrosini © 2021

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact

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  Table of 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

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Chapter Seventy

  Chapter Seventy-One

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  Other Books by Dan

  Other Books by Dan

  Luca Mystery Series

  Am I the Killer—Book 1

  Vanished—Book 2

  The Serenity Murder—Book 3

  Third Chances—Book 4

  A Cold, Hard Case—Book 5

  Cop or Killer?—Book 6

  Silencing Salter—Book 7

  A Killer Missteps—Book 8

  Uncertain Stakes—Book 9

  The Grandpa Killer—Book 10

  Dangerous Revenge—Book 11

  Where Are They—Book 12

  Buried at the Lake—Book 13

  Suspenseful Secrets

  Cory's Dilemma—Book 1

  Cory's Flight—Book 2

  Cory's Shift—Book 3

  Other works by Dan Petrosini

  The Final Enemy

  Complicit Witness

  Push Back

  Ambition Cliff

  Acknowledgments

  Special thanks to Julie, Stephanie and Jennifer for their love and support, and thanks to Squad Sergeant Craig Perrilli for his counsel on the real world of law enforcement. He helps me keep it real.

  Chapter One

  Luca

  It wasn't like me to be late. Mary Ann had a neurologist appointment. Normally, being back on the force for just a week, I wouldn't have gone.

  But nothing was normal the last two months. We'd gotten too comfortable with Mary Ann's MS. The occasional flare-up, fading in a couple of days.

  I didn't want to alarm Mary Ann, but things shifted with an attack lasting ten days. Followed by a second flare-up five days later. Things were wrong; the question was how badly they were going to go.

  If there was a God—and in my business, I had doubts—he or she provided an opening. In the midst of the second, extended bout, Sheriff Chester left the department. He took the high-profile job in Tallahassee he'd told me about. Chester tried to get me back before leaving but I was on the fence and, childishly, didn't want to give him a win.

  After almost a year on my own, I was doing okay. Derrick had taken Chester's bait and was pressuring me to return. Though I loved Derrick, it wasn't the friendship or the need to catch killers that brought me back.

  Maybe it was a combination, but the health insurance the department provided was good. Our Cobra coverage had six months to run, and Mary Ann's medical bills were off the charts.

  I also needed time off and, as a private investigator, I was only paid when I actually worked. Employed by the Collier County sheriff, I was entitled to paid time off and family leave, if needed. Plus, Derrick could cover short bursts of time when necessary.

  When the new Sheriff, Bill Remin, called, it was an opening I couldn't pass up. He'd been a homicide detective before moving up the chain. I'd met him twice. Remin seemed like a decent man and good cop but was prone to interfering. He wanted me back. I gave him the bs about missing the guys and job and here I was.

  Nobody knew the true bag of motivation. Not Mary Ann, not Derrick, not Bilotti. Nobody. They all bought my line about hunting down killers. Most figured I missed the job. Some thought it was Chester leaving. I can't say more than, it was complicated.

  The office was empty. I wriggled out of my jacket, wondering where my partner was. Sliding behind my desk, Derrick came in.

  "Hey Frank, we got a body..."

  It was a phrase that shot adrenaline through me better than a case of Red Bull.

  "Uh, should've said a skeleton."

  "Where?"

  "Pine Ridge Estates. Property is owned by a William Miller."

  "Who discovered it?"

  "A landscaper. They were working in the area and one of their guys dug it up."

  "Male or female?"

  "Didn't say. Guy who discovered it took off when he found it, and the owner's wife called it in."

  "Any age range?"

  "Nope."

  I reached for the phone. "I'll call Bilotti."

  "Already did. He's going to meet us down there."

  "Let's get on the move."

  Chapter Two

  Bill Miller

  Tee time was 4:00 pm. I was looking forward to using my new Honma driver. If it was anything like their putter, it was worth the money. There was enough time to hit some balls and get used to the new club.

  Why couldn't we make clubs like that in America?

  My handicap had been stuck at ten for two years. Wondering how much the high-end Japanese club would lower it, my cell rang. It was my wife. I hesitated before answering. It'd been a week since I played. About
to blow her off, I worried it might be about Mark. Again.

  "Hey, Cathy, what's up?"

  "They found a body on the property. Our property—"

  I froze. "A body? Was it a man or woman?"

  "I don't know. Why?"

  I stopped for a red light at the intersection of Collier Boulevard and Davis Boulevard, "Just asking. Who found it?"

  "A guy who works for Jimenez."

  She had to build that frigging wall. I swallowed, "Was it there long?"

  "I don't know. Who do you think it is?"

  I couldn't tell her I thought it was Kate Swift. "I don't know. It's probably been there for ages."

  "You think so?"

  "Sure."

  "The police are here. They got everything roped off down there."

  "The police?"

  "Yeah, what did you expect?"

  A chorus of beeping horns made me realize the light had turned green. "I don't know, this caught me off guard."

  "You’ve got to come home.”

  "Okay, I'll cancel my game. Let me call the guys and tell them. I'll see you later."

  This could be another turning point if it wasn't managed. It would spell the end of our family, the business, our standing. The embarrassment and shame would be too much. I had to manage this.

  I pulled into a Walmart lot, parking in a corner at the end of the building. As if I needed the reminder, a June's Diary truck chugged by. It had been nine years; June 1, 2013. It never faded, but the last couple of years, I was sleeping much better.

  Everyone considered Katie a typical Florida teenager: blonde hair, athletic and a thousand-watt smile. But she was much more. What separated her was the genuine compassion and wholesome goodness she exuded. With Katie around, life was sweeter.

  After it happened, the community was never the same. Tension replaced the laid-back, relaxed way of life. Suddenly, the fear lying beneath the surface of every major city had poked it's head up in Naples.

  We all changed. But no one as much as me. My mind drifted back, to that day.

  My alarm went off at six-thirty-five. I hopped out of bed, the sun rising in a cloudless sky. I poked my head out the sliders. The crisp air was infused with a honeysuckle smell. The weather was playing along with my plans for a perfect Sunday; Mass at 9:00 a.m., followed by a round of golf. Then, it was cocktails with the boys before heading home.

  Cathy was in Miami visiting her sister, so I bought a Wagyu steak at Seed to Table on the way home last night. I'd started drinking as I grilled and was feeling good. A little too good. I enjoyed my steak on the lanai and was watching the game.

  As soon as I'd come home, I tried keeping an eye on Mark. My brother was in a bad mood since yesterday when I told him my foursome was already set. It wasn't and I had the feeling he knew. But Mark was easily distracted, and I hated playing a four-hour round of golf.

  Katie had stopped over, returning a tennis racket my wife lent her to try. She mentioned she was in a rush, but Mark insisted on taking her for a ride in his boat. She happily agreed, surprising me. I wished she would've told him no.

  Mark ran down to the dock. As he raised the Bimini top, I walked to the lake with Katie. She was maturing into a woman but maintained an infectious playfulness. The way she laughed filled me with joy.

  I helped her climb onto the boat, her hand soft and warm. After warning Mark to take it easy, I untied the boat. Standing at the dock for a couple of minutes, I watched them buzz around the lake.

  The horn of a tractor trailer blew twice. I looked up. It was a Walmart truck. The driver was pointing at a sign. I was parked blocking the way to the loading docks.

  Chapter Three

  Luca

  Derrick turned off Pine Ridge onto East Road. The homes and lots they were on expanded as we drove farther into Pine Ridge Estates.

  He said, "Geez, look at that house. The gates are worth more than my entire home."

  A pair of black wrought-iron gates hung from stone pillars the size of a small building.

  I said, "You don't have gates with your initials on them?"

  "Must be nice to have this kind of money."

  "Yeah, but that don't mean they don't have problems."

  "It's tougher to teach your kids values when you have money."

  "Funny you say that; I just saw something on TV with this guy. Some New York hedge-fund guy worth billions. He's involved with the Naples wine auction. Anyway, he said it’s easier raising kids in a middle-class household than when you're rich."

  "Really?"

  "I'd like to try. With everything going on with Mary Ann, I'd like to do as much for her as I can before the MS gets any worse."

  "She'll be okay."

  "I don't know, Derrick. I'm getting worried."

  "Anything we can do to help out?"

  "Nothing, but thanks. I'll let you know. That's the Miller house on the left."

  A squad car was parked at the bottom of a long driveway.

  "Nice spread. Wonder what this guy Miller does."

  Another chemo brain clog slowed my thinking, but it hit me which Miller this was. "The family is in the building-supply business. They have places in Industrial Way and on Santa Barbara Boulevard."

  "Oh yeah. They even have a store in Estero."

  "They've been around a long time."

  "Can't be easy competing against Home Depot."

  We walked up the paver drive, where a white Maserati, roof down, was parked. As the medical examiner pulled up, I said, "Bilotti's here."

  "The doc has good timing."

  A uniformed officer was standing guard at the top of the driveway. He'd strung police tape from the handle of one of the six garage doors to a palm tree thirty yards away. Derrick said, "This Miller guy must collect cars."

  We flashed our badges and signed in. "The guy who found it is inside with his boss and Mrs. Miller. You going to talk to him?"

  "Not yet. I want to see the scene."

  He pointed toward the back of the property. "There's a stand of mango trees before the property slopes down to the lake. Me and McQuire roped it off. He's back there."

  We put gloves and booties on and snuck under the tape. Derrick said, "You're not waiting for Bilotti?"

  "I'd like to see it on our own."

  I surveyed the area as we walked. The view from the back of the house was impressive. Though there was a nice pool area and a tennis court on the left side, it was the glistening lake that drew your eye.

  It was so large you couldn't see the entire body of water. Looking across the lake, I said, "Looks like there's no houses with a view to this place."

  "They've got a ton of privacy."

  "Making it a good place to bury a body."

  "It's got to be a homicide."

  "No doubt."

  Maybe it was the shining sun or the fact it was a skeleton, but McQuire was grinning like he'd won the lottery.

  "Hey, Frank, what they have on you guys to get the both of you back on the job?"

  I wanted to tell him I still hadn't figured it out, but said, "How you been, Mac?"

  He held up the tape, and we headed to the gravesite as the officer said, "Good. What about the new sheriff? You like him?"

  I didn't answer. As we walked away, Derrick whispered, "What a clown. Remember when he got bombed at the Christmas party? Made a fool of himself."

  "Yeah, we all do that from time to time."

  "Nah, he's a Muppet."

  "What?"

  "Most Useless Police Officer Ever Trained."

  "That wasn’t funny."

  A tractor that looked like a toy version blocked the way. Circling around, I saw the skull. There wasn't a trace of skin or hair. The body had been buried a long time. We crept closer.

  "Looks like an adult. Can't tell if it's male or female."

  "Lucky this guy didn't crush it."

  "It wasn't buried too deep. You can see where the shovel hit. About ten inches away. It looks intact."

  "It seems
weird it's buried pointing to the lake rather than horizontally."

  I nodded. "True, but it could be nothing."

  "You think the lake could've come up this high?"

  I looked around. "Don't see any water markings, but as soon as we find out how long it's been here, we'll check the hurricane flood records."

  "Right."

  "But why not weigh it down in the middle of the lake?"

  "Maybe they didn't have a boat."

  "The soil doesn't seem like the kind in a lake, but we can have forensics test it."

  "Maybe—"

  I put up a hand. "I need a few."

  "Sorry."

  A part of my MO was envisioning how the crime scene came to be. The first question I wanted answered was whether the body had been moved here. The lake provided an easy way to travel from a distant shore, sight unseen. The body could also have been driven here. That would mean someone in the family may have been involved.

  It was also possible someone knew they were away and slipped onto the property. That would make it premeditated murder. It was impossible to determine what percentage of homicides were planned. Killers knew sentences were longer and framed their crime as an argument gone wrong.

  I was hoping Bilotti could quickly clear up whether this skeleton was evidence of an impulsive killing. I crouched by the skull. Who was this person?

  "Frank, Bilotti and his crew are here."

  Chapter Four

  Miller

  I called my other brother. "Greg, they found a body on my property."

  "Oh no."

  "Take it easy. I'm feeling good about this."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I'll tell you when I see you."

  "Tell me what the hell you're talking about."

  "What are you doing right now?"

  "Working, what do you think?"

  "Meet me in the parking lot of the Chick-fil-A on Airport and Pine Ridge," Bill said.

  "Now?"

  "Yeah, now. You'll want to know this."

  Both drive-through lanes were full. I pulled into a spot next to Greg's Corvette. He got out and climbed into my Tahoe.

  "What are we, spies now?"

  "Can't take a chance, but I think we're in the clear."

  "I have no idea what the hell you're talking about."

  "The body on my property. If it's you-know-who, then Mark didn't do it."