A House to Die For (A Darby Farr Mystery) (21 page)

"Little Darby Farr, come to pay me a visit," he said. "Take a
seat." He indicated a faded plastic chair into which Darby settled.
"How's the foot?"

"Better"

"I remember your mother sitting so delicately in that very same
chair," he said. "That glossy black hair, just like yours, twisted up off
her neck. She always looked so fresh and clean, her hands folded just
so on her lap..."

His eyes grew dreamy. "And could she ever cook! Do you remember that chicken dish she would whip up with the mushrooms and tomatoes, what was it, pulley something..."

"Poulet Saute Chasseur," said Darby.

"That's it! Boy, I have tried to remember that name for years.
Was it ever delicious. She was one fabulous cook, that Jada."
"

Darby knew that Chief Dupont wanted her to ask more about
her mother's acquaintance with him, and although it made her
uncomfortable, she complied.

I didn't realize that you and my mother were friends."

"Oh no? We were certainly friends. She needed help with a few
things-" he coughed delicately-"and I was happy to oblige. I like
to think that if it hadn't been for your father, we would have been
more than friends."

Darby felt her heart racing and struggled to keep her composure. "Chief, I wanted to ask you about Emerson Phipps' murder,"
she said carefully. "I don't think Lucy Trimble had a motive to kill
him."

"Heroin addicts don't need a motive," he said, his eyes narrow.
"She might have wanted his cash or his car. She could have been looking to take some kind of drug-induced rage out on him. Everyone in town knew she didn't want to sell him that house. She told a
friend at the clinic that she wanted the wedding lady to get it. Something snapped and the next thing she knew, she was whacking Emerson Phipps with the garden statue." He paused, a sly look on his face.
"Besides, more evidence may come to light very shortly, I'm sure."

The phone rang and Chief Dupont took the call. He made a
few notes on a pad of paper, and hung up.

"Lorraine?" Chief Dupont buzzed his secretary in the outer office. A thin woman with black-rimmed glasses appeared instantly,
as if she had been waiting outside the door. "Find the parking ordinance and send it off to the dingbat who runs the charter fishing
boat."

She nodded nervously, glanced at Darby, and backed out of the
room.

"Remember her? Lorraine Delvecchio? She was in your class,
wasn't she?"

Darby tried to remember the secretary, but failed.

"Can't recall her? It was only ten years ago. Ten years is nothing." He picked up a pencil and tapped it on the desk. "Lorraine
graduated and got a job as a medical transcriptionist. Pretty good
at it too, from what I hear. She worked until last summer for the
same employer, and he was very satisfied with her performance.
That's a rare thing nowadays, wouldn't you say?" He tapped the
pencil again and leaned closer to Darby. "Maybe you remember
the man Lorraine worked for? Important doctor in town ... Theodore Hotchkiss?"

Darby's quick intake of breath wasn't lost on Chief Dupont.
He rose from his desk and gave a smug grin. "Your friend Lucy Trimble's got a good lawyer, right? Because I'll tell you what, Darby
Farr, she's going to need one."

Darby's pulse was racing as she drove back to Near & Farr Realty.
He knows about the rape, she realized with a sinking heart. That
secretary of his, Lorraine Delvecchio, knew Lucy's secret and has told
the chief All he needs now is evidence...

Evidence. Not for the first time, Darby wondered where the old
records from Dr. Hotchkiss' practice had ended up. If I could find
them first ...

Darby grabbed her cell and called the Congregational Church,
hoping that Laura was working. The calm voice of the minister
answered on the second ring.

Darby explained what the chief had said and Laura groaned.
"That's all Lucy needs!" She paused. "Darby, I think I may know
where those files are kept. And if I'm right, your aunt had a key!"

Laura pulled into Near & Farr Realty at the same time as Darby.
She gave a small smile as she exited the car.

"Your aunt managed a property over on the cove. It's rented by
Dr. Hotchkiss' daughter and her little girl. There's a storage shed
on the property, and I believe that's where the doctor's records
were unloaded when he went into the nursing home."

"Terrific" Using her key, Darby opened the door of Near &
Farr. Tina had already left and the place was quiet. A blinking light
on her phone caught Darby's attention.

"The keys are on that board, right there," Darby indicated.
"Maybe you'll recognize the name? I'm going to check this message
quickly."

She listened to the voice of Alicia Phipps Komolsky explaining
that she was delayed and would arrive on the island first thing in the
morning. "I'll find your office and plan to be there at nine A.M.," she
said.

Darby groaned.

"Anything wrong?" Laura inquired gently.

"No, just back to back appointments first thing tomorrow
morning." She hung up the phone and crossed the room to Laura.
"That was Emerson Phipps' sister, Alicia. She's coming to see me in
the morning."

Laura nodded. "She's coming to the church as well. Wants to
have her brother cremated and wondered if I could suggest some
appropriate words to say goodbye." She sighed. "God, what an
awful business. Can you believe the police would even suspect
Lucy of something like this? It's ludicrous."

Darby was surprised to hear anger in the normally calm woman's voice. "Who do you think killed Emerson Phipps?"

Laura shot her a look as she pulled the key from a hook. "Given
my position on the island, I shouldn't speculate, but I know you
won't repeat this." She lowered her voice. "I'm convinced that Soames Pemberton is behind this. Not only is he one of the most
dangerous people I've ever met, but he was one of Lucy's counseling clients." She looked Darby in the eye. "I believe he's stolen
drugs from the clinic as well."

"Prescription drugs?"

Laura nodded. "I'm sure they help support his heroin habit."
She sighed. "I'm telling you this because I trust you, and I know
you are trying to help." She paused. "Please don't quote me."

"Understood. Now let's go find that file."

Donny Pease gave his boat a final spray with fresh water and nodded. She looked good and clean, ready for the next pile of people
wanting a ride somewhere. So far, business was good. This water
taxi thing would sure help, especially if the Trimble place ever sold
and he was no longer the caretaker.

For the most part, he enjoyed ferrying people back and forth
in his vessel. He'd earned his captain's license as a young man, and
he never tired of blasting over to the mainland. Each day was different. The sea had a thousand stories to tell, and so far, he'd heard
only a handful.

Donny took a look down below to make sure the cabin was
shipshape. He saw a white bundle in the corner of the berth and
picked it up. Lucy Trimble's sweater. She'd forgotten to take it when
he, Mark, and Darby brought her home from the Manatuck jail.

His face hardened. Jail! That pretty little thing, locked overnight in a jail. The thought made him so angry he wanted to punch
something. Calm down, he said to himself. Think about your old
ticker ...

He felt his pulse slowing and went back above deck. The image
of Lucy Trimble, sitting numbly on his boat, came back to him.
She looked like a skinny little ghost, he thought. A ghost who's seen
terrible things.

The memory of Emerson Phipps' dead body flashed before
his eyes. Lucy had seen it too, had been right there. She'd reached
down with her little hands and tried to pull those shears out of
the surgeon's stomach. Then she'd lifted her bloodied arms to the
heavens and run, horror struck, from the shed. I saw her running
from him, and who can blame her? he thought. I would have run,
too, if my stomach hadn't sent me into the bushes. Embarrassment
washed over him. What a sissy, getting sick like that. Tina won't
want to have anything to do with me.

And yet, Tina had called just a few minutes earlier, inviting him
over to her place for supper. Donny grinned. Tina was an excellent
cook, and his mouth watered just thinking of her home-cooked
meals. Last time, she'd fixed some sort of beef stroganoff, with the
curly noodles he loved, and a fresh strawberry rhubarb pie for dessert. Strawberries are still in season, he thought. Just that morning
he'd passed an old-timer selling some by the side of the road. Perhaps she'll have that pie again.

Donny Pease closed up the companionway and climbed off the
boat. Tomorrow he was going back to Fairview, back to the scene
of that murder, but he wasn't going to let it stop him. Spruce the
place up: that's what he was planning to do, and haul off some of
the trash piled up in the woods by the garden cottage.

Donny knew it would feel good to putter around the old estate
again, to be useful to the Trimble family, and he was thankful to
Mark for giving him the work. After all, I'm still the caretaker. I'm
the one who needs to make sure it is in top condition.

He clutched Lucy Trimble's sweater in his hand and thought
again of all she'd endured. Parents who started drinking martinis
at noon. Her brother Wes' suicide. And now being blamed for a murder she surely didn't commit. I'll drop this off on the way to
Tina's, he thought, feeling the softness of the fuzzy material. Poor
girl, it's the least I can do.

With Laura seated next to her, Darby Farr drove her aunt's truck
past Long Cove. "What's the address?" she asked Laura.

"Two-twenty Cove Road," she replied. "It's a cute little Cape."

Darby shot a look at Laura, but the minister was gazing at the
cove. "That was my parents' house"

Laura turned to look at Darby, her gray eyes showing concern.
"Darby, I had no idea. Let me go alone."
"

I can handle it. It's just a funny coincidence."

Darby pulled off the road and parked the truck.

The tricycle was still on the grass. Next to it was a brightly colored plastic lawnmower with a smiley face sticker on the handle.
Despite the toys, the yard looked well kept. The lawn had been
recently mowed and trimmed, and someone had planted pansies
along the foundation.