The Original Daughter: Ellen Sparks Mysteries, #1

By Karen Fields

The nice lady that works in Human Resources isn't supposed to be chasing killers.

After the death of her mother, Ellen Sparks finds out that she has a sister she never knew existed.  Her happiness at this unexpected discovery is cut short when she learns that her sister has been a victim of murder.

Now, she must get out from behind her desk and unravel the mystery of who her sister was, how she lived, and who was responsible for
her death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Karen Fields
• Release date: Oct 6, 2014
• ISBN: 9781502276186

Karen Fields

Karen Fields is a dynamic and results-driven professional who has left an indelible mark on the world of corporate learning and development. Serving as the President of Learning-Dynamics, LLC in San Diego, CA from 2012 to 2018, Jane exemplified excellence in delivering top-tier learning solutions to corporate clients. She was the driving force behind the creation of specialized eLearning modules designed to support a major information technology upgrade for an esteemed international automobile manufacturer. Karen’s expertise also extended to crafting comprehensive Instructor Led and eLearning modules for a prominent West Coast financial institution, covering a spectrum of subjects from sales and business systems to federal regulations and human resources. Karen now lives in Chicago, Illinois. She is semi-retired and pursues projects of personal interest. She has authored several mystery novels, and content related to teaching and training. In addition she works with artificial intelligence to produce dynamic images featuring people and animals in setting that could not possible occur in real life. As someone who was involved in the hiring process for countless individuals, she had lent her expertise to this short book filled with practical, action-oriented tips for job seekers.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

He waited until it was dark and she was asleep. She had always been a sound sleeper. There was no worry that she would awaken. His bag was already in the car. All he needed to do now was to gather what was most precious and they could be on their way. There was a slight chill in the air and the fog rolled in from the ocean.

Under the full moon the small buildings that stretched out in front of him were partially obscured by mist. He stood silently, listening to the waves and contemplating the enormity of what he was about to do. The certainty of youth propelled him forward. He headed up the stairs.

1

She’d never noticed that spot on the carpet before. Now that the furniture was gone, and the boxed items taken away she could see it; a circular ring. Someone must have put down a wineglass. Ellen stared at it for a minute and concluded that the stain must have been there when the furniture was originally brought in, as no alcoholic beverages had been consumed in this apartment while her mother had lived there. Yes, come to think of it—the breakfront had been along that wall, so it would have covered up anything underneath.

Norma Sparks, Ellen's mother, had been dead for three weeks. She was a solitary woman, succumbing at age sixty-seven to lung cancer after a lifetime of chain smoking. These days, sixty-seven wasn't considered old. Her mother could have lived for many more years, but she was a prisoner of those damn cigarettes. No one could talk any sense into her; not her doctor, not her husband, and most certainly not her daughter.

Ellen's father had died when she was twelve. JasonSparks had been a defense attorney, and her hero. Her most vivid childhood memories were of her father reading to her, and telling her stories.

Never one to talk down to a child, Jason had freely shared his adult views on life, justice, and the law with his daughter. As a result, young Ellen possessed a vocabulary and understanding of human nature that went far beyond her years. Unfortunately, these characteristics hadn't made her a hit in the grade school cafeteria. Ellen was far more comfortable in the company of adults than she was with children her own age. Her school years had been lonely, and even as an adult, it was hard for her to make new friends.

The relationship between Ellen and her mother had been hard. There was a great distance between them. She and her mother never laughed together, they never had fun. There were no rewards for good report cards; those were expected. There were no 'secret jokes' between them. There was no teasing, no surprise gifts, and no affection.

Norma was the type of person who disapproved of everything. No amount of keeping a clean room and staying quiet seemed to help. Ellen often felt that when her mother looked at her she was in fact looking through her—searching for something that she hoped she would see, but somehow never did.

It had been easier when her father was alive because he was the buffer between them. Norma was always calmer when he was around and less likely to be critical. Once he was gone, the mother/daughter distance grew even more extreme.

The relationship they shared was about as intimate as what Ellen experienced with her teachers or the local librarian. Once she left home for college, she never returned.

Now, at age 35, Ellen was the Director of Employee Relations at BioCell Systems, a Carlsbad California company specializing in equipment and software used for genetic research.

The Human Resources discipline was a good fit for Ellen. She thought about going to law school at one point, but ultimately decided that she wanted to work inside a big company.

=====

Today was Saturday. It was a bit warmer than usual for this time of year. Ellen was ready to tackle the task at hand.

Let’s get this over with, she said to herself. The sooner I get started, the sooner I’ll be done.

Dressed in jeans and a plaid cotton shirt with rolled-up sleeves, she was closing out her mother's apartment. She planned to make a final sweep of the cupboards, check that the cleaning service had left everything in good shape, and hand the keys over to the building manager. Her mother would've wanted all of her affairs-even in death, to be handled properly, and Ellen, ever the good daughter-was making certain that this was the case.

The apartment looked much smaller without any furniture in it. The utilities had already been turned off, and Ellen brushed a bit of damp hair off of her forehead as she looked around. These days Ellen kept her dark hair trimmed in a short bobe—asier to manage than the waist-length hair she had in college.

Although her mother had the financial means to live more extravagantly, she'd moved to this high rise in Orange County after Ellen left for college, saying she no longer needed a house full of stuff,-an apartment would be more practical. Although Norma had always favored a spare décor-once she was living on her own she took asceticism to a whole new level.

How did she live like this? Ellen said out loud although there was no one there to hear her.

Every wall in the apartment was completely blank, with one exception.

Ellen's mother had been a third grade teacher. Her job meant the world to her. She taught in the same school, in fact-in the very same classroom for forty years. She was dedicated to her students, in fact, all her time was spent planning lessons, and looking for things she could bring in to motivate her them. It was as if her real life existed at school and the time she spent at home was only meant to recharge her batteries so she could get back there. The only decoration in Norma's entire apartment had been the commemorative plaque the school had presented to her upon her retirement. Ellen had dutifully packed it up when she removed her mother's clothes a week earlier.

Ellen checked the refrigerator. It was empty and clean—good. She opened and closed each cabinet, again empty. There had not been much to pack in the kitchen.

Next stop, the bedroom closet and the bathroom. All empty and clean.

Check. she said to herself. No evidence of habitation.

On the way toward the door, Ellen pulled open the coat closet for a final look. At first glance it too appeared empty, but as she stretched her neck to look at the shelf above the hanging rod she thought she saw something sitting there, although she wasn’t sure. At five feet three inches, Ellen seldom had the advantage when it came to retrieving items stored in high places. She jumped up and down a few times to check. Yes, there was certainly something on that shelf.

Damn! she thought. Now what am I supposed to do?

There weren't any chairs to climb on, and there wasn't anything in her purse that could be of any help, but then Ellen remembered that she had an umbrella in her car. Once in front of the closet again, she was able to reach onto the top shelf with the umbrella and feel that there was some sort of object at the back of the shelf. Carefully, she wiggled the umbrella and the object forward until she was able to grab it with her other hand.

It was a wooden box, about the size of a shoebox, only flatter. The wood was a combination of golden tan and dark brown. It was beautifully carved and the surface was smooth. Ellen couldn’t recall having seen the box before, and she was a bit puzzled. This wasn’t the type of thing her mother would have bought for herself. If Norma had owned this box during her lifetime, where had it been?

Ellen pulled carefully at the top and it opened. Inside were two items; a photograph and a folded piece of paper. The photo was old and faded. It showed a much younger Norma, standing in front of what might have been the concession stand at Moonlight Beach, years ago. She stood next to a man, who looked a bit older than she. He had his arm around her shoulder and they were both smiling. Ellen stared at the photo for some time..

Who are you? she wondered, looking at the nameless man.

She'd never laid eyes on this person before. He was handsome, with a warm smile. She hadn't seen too many photos of Norma in her youth. Something about this one was strange. It took few minutes to figure out why, but then it dawned on her. It was the way her mother looked-Ellen wasn't used to seeing that particular expression on her, and she almost didn't recognize it, but in the photograph-her mother was smiling, and looked happy.

Next, she unfolded the paper. She read it and shook her head. This had to be a mistake. Then, she read it again and her heart started to race. Her fingers grew cold and numb and she blinked hard. She couldn't believe what she was looking at.

It was a birth certificate with her mother’s name on it, but the child listed wasn’t her. The document was dated April 7, 1968—eleven years before her own birth. The father was listed as Noel Benton, and the child, a daughter, was listed as Jana Benton. Ellen turned the paper over and read it again, and again—as if somehow additional words would appear on the page with continued inspection.

How was this possible? Who in the world was Noel Benton and why had her mother never mentioned him before? And a baby? What happened to it?

Does this mean that I have a sister? she said, to the empty room.

She sat on the floor holding the box and the paper in her lap. She tried to calm her breathing and think back to her childhood for any memories that would provide a clue to what was going on. There were none. Still too shocked to think clearly, Ellen gathered the papers and the box and left the apartment. She dropped the keys in the plastic box outside the manager’s office and rushed to her car.

She now knew that her mother’s life had been much more complicated than she had ever imagined. Perhaps her own complications were just about to begin.

2

Once she settled into her Mini Cooper, Ellen headed south. She didn’t have a particular destination in mind. Mostly she just wanted to get away from Norma’s apartment and out of Orange County. The billboards and chain store signs flanking the highway were all a blur. She drove past the sprawl and eventually began to see the ocean off to her right. It wasn’t until she pulled off onto Encinitas Boulevard that she realized she was heading to see David.

Ellen and David had been friends ever since they were in college. They met in the cafeteria. Neither seemed to come to meals with a companion, and eventually they noticed one another and began to eat together. She was studying Human Resources and he was majoring in drinking too much, complaining about life, and changing his major.

After trying to embrace the study of English, Psychology, Anthropology and Computer Science, he finally settled on Liberal Arts because it was the degree program that allowed him to use the greatest amount of the credits he already had and still graduate in four years. While Ellen was always certain about what she wanted to do, it wasn’t until David discovered baking that he really felt connected to any type of career.

David Chapman was an inspired baker. He had a gift. By experimenting with his own mixtures of wheat, rye, and whole-wheat flours, he had developed a line of artisan breads and cakes that were truly unforgettable. It was a gamble when he decided to open up a business in a small storefront on the Highway 101 business district in Encinitas. Things were slow at first, but he received some good publicity in the local newspaper and soon began to develop many repeat customers. The demands of running a business had been new to him. He had never had to deal with financial end of things. All he wanted to do was bake. Fortunately, his partner Louis had a good head for figures and between the two of them they were able to stay afloat. Louis made sure the bills were paid, and David’s breads and pastries brought in patrons from across the state.

He and Ellen had always been able to talk easily. They were an odd pairing visually. David was a full twelve inches taller than she was, and when they walked together she often had to move at a half-run in order to keep up with his long strides. They enjoyed studying together, going to the movies, and of course indulging in big greasy breakfasts on Sunday mornings.

In the early days of their relationship, David was struggling with his identity. He knew he was gay, but he hadn’t told anyone. Ellen was his lifeline during those difficult times.

The bond that existed between the two of them continued to grow stronger as they each explored romantic relationships with other people. Ellen dated occasionally in college, but didn’t find anyone special.

I think some girls were just born to be old maids, she’d often say.

David used to tell her that was nonsense, but she never did fall in love. She always enjoyed the occasional date, but no one ever clicked.

David met Louis Ryan in the parking lot of Home Depot. He had gone to buy shelving and brackets and was leaving the store with his purchases in hand. The cashier had put too many heavy brackets into his plastic bag and before he got back to his car, the bag broke and there were bolts and brackets all over the parking lot. Louis was on his way in and came to the rescue. They cleaned up the mess and stayed in the parking lot talking, eventually continuing the conversation at a coffee shop. This led to more dates where they discovered that they had many things in common—and many areas where they intensely disagreed, but with good humor.

They fell into a pattern of spending their days together whenever they could—bicycling and enjoying the beach, and alternating nights between their respective apartments. Eventually they realized that without planning it, they had becoming a couple. They each had different ideas of what an ideal home would look like, but eventually they found a ramshackle house in Encinitas with good bones that suited them both. One of the key selling points was the pool, which needed work, but was a selling point for each of them. Over time, they turned the house and the grounds into a comfortable home.

The two were a perfect match for one another. Louis was very methodical, which balanced out David’s capriciousness. Mathematics had always been a part of Louis’s life. His parents were both accountants. When he went to school, it never occurred to him to choose any other path than accounting. When he met David he was working at his first ‘real’ job, and beginning to figure out he hated it. He didn’t mind the actual work, but he was unhappy being cooped up in an office.

At that time, David was just getting started at the bakery and recognized he needed a partner who could handle the business side of things. Working together seemed to be the perfect solution. David’s talent and Louis’ business acumen put them on the right path. Their business was young and growing, but they were poised to