A house to die for, p.21
A House To Die For, page 21
part #1 of Darby Farr Mystery Series
“She seems to be. At least for now.”
“Good” Laura set down her plastic mug and gave Darby a small smile. “So what brings you over here? Were you looking for Mark?”
“Yes. Any idea when he went out?”
“He sailed in early this morning and left about an hour ago.”
Darby tried to hide her irritation.
“What is it?” asked Laura. “Something wrong?”
“Yes. I have a hard time with the fact that his sister’s been a murder suspect, and he takes off on his sloop for a few days.”
Laura gave a gentle grin. “Darby, we can’t judge what others may do under stress. This whole thing has affected Mark in ways we can’t even imagine. Going off for a sail may have been exactly what Mark needs to do.”
“Time alone to sort things out,” Darby said.
Laura smiled again. “I didn’t say he was alone.” She took another sip of coffee. “He has a new friend, a man named Ryan Oakes. He introduced me to him this morning. He works with an island preservation group. The two of them went out yesterday, I think.” She took a look at the sky. “Good thing they came back today. Tomorrow we’re going to get some weather.”
Darby nodded. “So I hear.” She took the last sip of her coffee. “I don’t want to bother you on your time off, but is there anything else I need to do for Jane’s service?”
“I think we’re in good shape,” Laura said. “But my notes are at the office. Can we go over the last-minute details this afternoon? Then I can get the program together in the morning and have the church secretary print it in the afternoon.”
“Okay,” Darby agreed. “I’ll call you or come by today.” She paused. “If you do see Mark, will you ask him to call me?”
“Sure”
Darby jumped from What’s in a Name to the dock, noting that her legs remained remarkably steady. I’m making progress. She waved goodbye to Laura, still seated in the stern, and contemplated calling Miles on her cell. Dead as a door nail, she thought, using one of Aunt Jane’s expressions and tossing the phone on the seat. I need to charge it back at the office.
Darby drove to Lucy’s studio, wondering if she would still be there or setting up for the art show. She was relieved to see Lucy’s old sedan in the driveway, the trunk open and waiting for more paintings.
Darby jogged up the rutted pathway and knocked on the door. Lucy opened it with a smile.
“Hey! I was hoping I’d see you. Did you hear about the chocolates? You were right.”
“Chief Dupont told me. You must be so relieved.” “
I am. I don’t like the fact that heroin was in my system again, but at least I know that I didn’t ingest it myself, and that’s a huge relief.” She frowned. “Too bad about Soames. I wish I could have helped him.” She indicated the little kitchen table. “Want to sit down?”
“Sure, just for a minute. I know you’re busy with the art show.”
“Yeah, but I have to say, I feel so free. The burden of knowing there were people who thought I might have killed someone…”
“Very few people thought that, Lucy.”
“Thanks. So what’s up? I know my friend Darby Farr. You’re on a social call, but with an agenda.”
“You got me there. I just received a new offer from Peyton. She still wants to buy Fairview, at the same price, and close on Saturday. I haven’t seen your brother yet, but what do you think?”
“Terrific. What about those restrictions?”
“She and her lawyer are going to worry about it once they’ve purchased the property. My guess is they’ve already been assured that they can be changed.”
“Wow. Mark will be thrilled. Where do I sign?”
Once Lucy had looked over the agreement and signed it, Darby helped her carry a few canvasses to the car. “I’m off to find your brother now,” she said.
“He may actually be at Fairview,” Lucy said. “I can’t make myself go over there, but he said he was going to check that everything was okay.”
Darby drove Thelma over to Fairview, wishing as she was driving the winding roads that she was out for a run. She looked uneasily at the woods in which her dream had taken place. It had given her the creeps to see Soames’ face like that, especially now that she knew he was dead.
She wound her way down the driveway and came around the bend to see the grand old house in all its glory. Mark Trimble’s car was parked in front, along with a small compact car bearing a bumper sticker for the “Maine Island Association.”
She slowed to a walk at the front door, hearing voices.
“Hello?” she called out.
“Hey, we’re in here,” yelled Mark Trimble. He was talking animatedly to someone and sounded very cheerful. A moment later he greeted her at the door.
“Darby! You’re up bright and early! I was just going to call you. You heard the news about Soames? Lucy’s totally in the clear. It’s great.” Grinning, he pulled her from the hallway into the living room of his old home. “There’s somebody I’d like you to meet. This is Ryan-Ryan Oakes. He’s the head of the Island Association. Have you heard of them? They work to keep islands like ours from becoming too Disney-fied, right Ryan?”
Ryan Oakes smiled and shook Darby’s hand.
“Actually, we try to help keep what is special about working islands functioning,” he said. “I’m pleased to meet you, Darby. Mark has told me so much about you. I know he’s very grateful for what you’ve done for his sister.” Ryan looked at Mark who shook his head emphatically.
“Absolutely. She’s off the hook. Soames Pemberton killed Phipps and now the radio’s reporting that he’s killed himself to boot.” He clasped his hands together, reminding Darby of a little boy with too much energy.
“So, thanks to you, Darby, Lucy’s back to her normal life on Hurricane Harbor. I’ve got to say, there was a little too much action for a small place like this.”
Darby wanted to question Mark concerning his role with providing Soames Pemberton with the deed, but knew that now was not the time. Instead she said, “I have some news about the sale of Fairview, Mark. Can we talk?”
Mark looked at Ryan and then back at Darby. “I told Ryan all about it, so shoot. What’s up?”
“A courier delivered an offer from Peyton and her partners this morning. Same terms with a closing on Saturday. I’ve just come from Lucy’s studio; she reviewed the offer and signed it. I’ve brought it along for you to take a look at and sign as well.” She added, “I’m sure you and your sister will be happy to see this chapter close.”
Mark Trimble squirmed and again Darby was reminded of a child.
“Umm … yeah. So Peyton is definitely buying the house? On Saturday?”
“That’s the plan. Why?”
Mark gestured toward Ryan. “I’ve been thinking this would be a great headquarters for Ryan’s organization,” he said. “You know, a place for them to have meetings, retreats, and entertain rich donors.” He laughed. “People like me, right?”
Ryan Oakes smiled. “As I’ve already explained to Mark, we don’t have the funds for our own building, much less one like Fairview. Our current office is in Manatuck, over the Natural Foods store. Someday, though, a place like this would be ideal. It’s certainly fun to dream about.”
Darby nodded. “It’s a lovely spot.” She fixed her attention back on Mark. He needed to understand that he had a deal with Peyton Mayerson. She didn’t like his thinking he could switch gears now and dangle Fairview in front of some brand-new friend who couldn’t afford a rundown ranch, never mind an estate. Unfortunately, Mark was far too adept at changing buyers. Not this time, she vowed.
“Let’s take a look at this together.” She pulled the offer from the envelope and moved closer to Mark.
He glanced at it quickly. “She let go of the old deed restrictions?”
Darby nodded, not trusting herself to say more. She was still angry over Soames’ revelation that Mark had known all about it, but wasn’t going to bring it up in front of Ryan Oakes.
“Same money she was originally offering?”
“That’s right.”
Mark reached in his pocket for a pen and scribbled his signature on the last page. “Hard to believe it’s really going to happen this time.”
“I know.”
Darby extended her arm toward Ryan Oakes and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you. Good luck with the Island Association.”
“Thank you,” he said.
Mark gave Darby a wave. “See you,” he said breezily.
Mark’s dismissive goodbye couldn’t dampen Darby’s spirits. She felt the surge of adrenalin she always experienced when she put a real estate deal together. It’s going to happen, Aunt Jane, she said silently. Even if I have to stay here until next week.
She drove back to Near & Farr and called Miles with the news of Soames’ death.
“The dragon has been slain and the village is safe,” he said. “Not exactly slain, but close enough”
“There are certainly people who will sleep a little easier knowing he can’t darken their door again,” Darby agreed. “Tina Ames, for one.” Darby looked out the window to the street where Tina was emerging with a coffee and a Diet Coke. “I had a strange dream last night.”
“Was it about me?” Miles teased.
No.
“Then I don’t know if I want to hear about it. Well, all right, you may tell me.”
Darby laughed. “No, I think you’re right. It isn’t worth retelling. Instead, I’m going to ask you to a meal for once. How about lunch with me today?”
There was a pause from Miles. “I’m afraid I must decline, Darby. I’ve been summoned to Boston, on business, and am leaving in a few minutes. I’ll be back late tomorrow night or very early Saturday for your aunt’s service.”
“Oh,” Darby said lightly, as a wave of disappointment washed over her. Get a grip, she told herself sternly. You’ve got work to do. She made an effort to keep her tone as light as possible. “See you Saturday, then, Miles. Drive safely.”
THIRTEEN
AFTER HANGING UP WITH Miles, Darby checked her watch and decided it was a good time to call ET in California. It was just after eleven A.M. in Maine, so with the three-hour time difference, her able assistant would be up and working, most likely in his silk bathrobe and slippers.
The phone rang only once before she recognized his melodic voice on the other end.
“Darby! I was hoping it was you … have you sold the lovely Fairview yet?”
Quickly Darby filled him in on the events of the past few days, concluding with the good news she’d received via courier that morning.
“We’re scheduled to close on Saturday afternoon,” she said, “with Aunt Jane’s service in the morning. I’m changing my flights to Monday. I didn’t plan on staying here so long, ET, but I’ve got to see this through.”
ET made a sympathetic noise. “I understand completely. How about the sister of Mark Trimble-Lucy?-is she cleared of murder charges?”
“Yes, thank goodness.” Darby sighed. “She’s free, and the man who killed Emerson Phipps is no longer a threat to anyone. Last night he committed suicide.”
“Quite a lot happening on such a small island. The service for your aunt can now proceed without the shadow of an unsolved murder, correct?”
“I hadn’t thought about it that way, but you’re right. I guess it is finally time to put the murder at Fairview in the past and focus on my final duty here.” She paused. “Enough about Maine. What’s going on at the office?”
ET told Darby that several of her listings were seeing increased activity, and that he expected an offer on at least one home by the weekend. “I have signed up a new client, a couple from London, and they are scheduled to meet with you next week. And now are you ready? I’ve saved the best piece of news for last,” he teased.
“I could use some good news, ET. Tell me it’s the Costa Brava property?”
“It’s the Costa Brava property, all right. That buyer who was nosing around early in the month has decided to put in a fullprice offer. The sellers are thrilled and it looks like this is one mansion that will definitely be sold.”
“Fantastic. I really should go away more often.”
After saying goodbye, Darby decided on impulse to try Peyton Mayerson’s cell phone again. If she’s not on the island, then where is she? She needs to know that Lucy and Mark have signed that purchase and sale …
Darby searched through her contacts and found Peyton’s number. Soon she heard the recorded voice of Peyton asking her to leave a message, which she did, along with her own cell phone number. Moments later, to her amazement, her phone rang.
Darby expected the caller to be Peyton Mayerson; instead, it was a man’s voice who asked for her.
“Ms. Farr? We’ve been trying to reach you at your aunt’s home”
“Who is this?”
“I’m sorry-this is Special Agent Edward Landis, FBI.”
“FBI? What’s this about?”
“It’s a long story, one that’s best explained off island. We’d like to pick you up, Ms. Farr. To talk.”
“Pick me up?”
“We have a helicopter waiting at a private airstrip on the island. Do you know the Merewether estate?”
Darby was dumbfounded but still able to speak. “Yes. I know it.
“You can leave your vehicle on the property. Agents Cooper and Cardazzo are waiting for you there. Bring an overnight bag-we’ve reserved a hotel room at the Ritz Carlton in Boston for you.”
“Just what is this about?”
“I really can’t explain over the phone. My agents can come and get you at your office, or you can meet them here. Either way, we need your cooperation.”
“How do I know this is legitimate?”
“Good question. The agents will have their credentials and you can verify them on site.”
Darby said she would arrive at the Merewether estate in ten minutes. She hung up, the strange conversation replaying in her head. Had the FBI contacted her because of her message to Peyton Mayerson?
Tina opened the office door, her hands full of containers. In addition to the beverages she’d purchased at the store, she’d gone to the Cafe and bought a few sandwiches.
“Are you as hungry as me?” asked Tina. “Hope so.” She looked at Darby and gave a look of concern. “You okay?”
“Well, I thought I was fine-that is, until that last phone call. You’re not going to believe this, but I’m on my way to the Merewether estate where a helicopter is waiting to take me to an FBI meeting in Boston.”
“No way!” said Tina. “What in the world is that about?”
“I don’t know, and the agent wouldn’t say over the phone. If I had to guess, I’d say it has to do with Peyton Mayerson.”
“Should I work on those closing documents?”
“Absolutely. Until we know otherwise, the sale of Fairview is on. And until we know why I’m headed to Boston, please don’t say anything about this trip. No sense in getting Mark or Lucy upset when we don’t have a clue what’s happening.”
“Agreed”
Tina placed the sandwiches on a nearby desk and snapped her fingers. “I nearly forgot-the Cafe owner said she’s all set with the food for the memorial service.” She paused. “You will be back from Boston, right?”
Darby nodded. “I’m staying over tonight, but I’ll be back tomorrow. Good thing we made the service for Saturday and not Friday.” She thought a moment. “I’m staying at the Ritz Carlton if you need me, although I don’t have my room number” She frowned. “What about Helen Near? Have you heard when she’s arriving?”
“Tomorrow. Don’t worry, I’ll send Donny to Portland to get her if she needs transportation.” Tina lowered her voice. “Do you think this means that Peyton Mayerson is a genuine crook? I can’t say I’d be surprised… ” She reached for a sandwich, tore off the wrapping and bit into it. Glancing back at Darby while she chewed, she made a sheepish face. “Sorry, but I’m starving.” She reached for the other sandwich and thrust it at Darby. “Do me a favor and bring this one with you. You’re turning into a skeleton!”
The Merewether estate was on the opposite end of the island from Fairview and was not, in Darby’s estimation, as impressive a structure. Built in the same time period but “renovated” in the 1950s, the building sported several ungainly additions that obscured its once graceful lines. A cedar playset in the yard along with a sandbox made Darby pause. Perhaps Merewether wasn’t beautiful, but it looked well-loved.
Darby drove the truck to the rear of the property where a black car and two dark-suited men wearing sunglasses were waiting. A helicopter waited on the lawn behind them. Darby parked and walked toward the car. The men introduced themselves as Special Agents Cooper and Cardazzo and each showed her a wallet-sized leather case that held their badges.
Darby scrutinized the badges. They certainly looked authentic, with the imposing Federal Bureau of Investigation insignia. Nevertheless, she was not about to get in a helicopter with two strange men just because their identification looked plausible.
“I need more proof, fellows.”
The men glanced at each other and produced their FBI identification badges. Darby scrutinized the photos and handed them back. “I’m still not going,” she said.
The agent called Cardazzo shuffled his feet impatiently and frowned. Agent Cooper looked more sympathetic.
“Here,” he offered, handing her his cell phone. “This is the number of the bureau. Give them our credential numbers.” Darby took the phone and called. Soon the voice on the other end verified that George Cooper and David Cardazzo were indeed FBI Special Agents.
Darby frowned. She called directory assistance for the bureau’s number and waited to connect. She then asked for the field office location for the two agents. Moments later, she spoke with someone named Thomas Gray, who verified the agents’ whereabouts on Hurricane Harbor, Maine. Satisfied, Darby handed back the phone and allowed the men to escort her to the helicopter.
