Free To Die For by Kathy Braidhill

the kind of suburban shoppers who will drive more than 100 miles round trip to spend money. The 35-acre behemoth, constructed in standard-issue but fashionable whitewashed stucco, with Western-themed accents, is the unlikely desert home to 110 discount designer stores. Lake Elsinore’s only other point of interest, besides the lake itself, is the Elsie Museum, containing “evidence” of a sea serpent purportedly lurking in Lake Elsinore.
    Dana first stopped at Perfumania, a discount perfume boutique, for two bottles of her favorite scent, Opium. $128.11. Half an hour later, she was cruising the aisles of Famous Brands with her dark-haired male companion, stocking up on spices, blue glass bowls, golf-, cat-, and pig-themed novelty switchplates, children’s scissors and extremely sharp poultry shears. Store manager Jean Smothers noticed that the blonde customer wore several rings on her left hand and seemed extremely nervous.
    â€œWill these scissors cut bone?” the man asked Smothers. He seemed to have an East Coast accent.
    â€œYes, they will,” Jean replied.
    His companion seemed so unnerved by this exchange that she knocked down a counter display at the checkout stand. Smothers rang up the scissors, the spices and the switchplates $49.87.
    Seven minutes later, Dana zoomed out of 9 West, a popular shoe store, with a pair of ladies’ dress shoes. $37.68. The next stop was the Nike Factory Outlet Store, across the mall’s spacious palm-lined walk-way. While the tall man held her other purchases, Dana pulled boxes of athletic shoes and exercise wear off the display racks and stacked them on the counter. The cashier, noticing that she seemed anxious and hurried, rang up the sale while Dana continued to pull items off the shelf. Paying with June’s credit card, Dana walked away with white stretchy Everlast boxing tights, multi-colored exercise leggings, racer-back workout tops and bottoms, and a variety of exercise shoes for her live-in boyfriend, Jim, and herself. At 4:33 p.m., Dana and her other male friend emerged from the Nike store with $339.04 worth of merchandise charged to June. She hurried home to fix dinner for Jim and Jason.
    WEDNESDAY, MARCH 2, 1994, 9:10 A.M.
    â€œYou’ve got some visitors.”
    Greco looked up from his coffee to see Sergeant Wenker standing over his desk. “It’s the family of June Roberts. The son-in-law is a detective in Nevada. He works homicide. He wants to know who’s handling his mother-in-law’s murder investigation. They’re in the lobby right now.”
    Greco took a gulp of coffee, put his jacket back on, walked out to the lobby and tried his best to act confident. The Perris Police building had once been a high school, and, as was the case in many of the neighborhoods in its city, several rooms were trailers. Trailers with connecting hallways housed the detective bureau and offices. Greco walked through the hallway to the front lobby that opened onto a small patio. Three women and two men. They looked upset and one of the women was weeping.
    In a soft voice, Greco introduced himself as the investigator, offered his condolences and said he would do his best on the case.
    A sturdy-looking man in his 40s stepped forward and asked loudly, “Who’s the primary investigator on this case?”
    â€œI am,” Greco said.
    Greco’s words hung in the air as the man angrily stared at Greco’s peaches-and-cream complexion and college student’s whisper of a moustache.
    Greco held out his hand.
    â€œI’m Detective Joe Greco,” he said.
    â€œHow long have you been a detective?” the man barked.
    â€œSix months,” Greco answered. “But I’m pretty tenacious…”
    Shaking his head, the man refused the handshake and turned away. Greco dropped his hand. His face felt hot.
    A blonde woman in her 40s stepped forward and introduced herself as Susan Van Owen, June’s daughter.