A House to Die For (A Darby Farr Mystery) (23 page)

Miles exhaled. "That's rough at any age, but at thirteen..." He
shook his head. "So Jane stayed here with you?"

"Yes. She had a real estate company in Sarasota, Florida, with
her friend Helen Near. They opened a second office here and for
a while Jane flew back and forth. Then they came to some sort of
an agreement, I guess. Jane stayed with me and ran the office here,
while Helen took care of their old clients in Florida" She thought
a moment. "I haven't seen Helen Near in ages, but she's coming up
for the memorial service."

Miles reached across the table and put his hand on Darby's. "I
can't imagine the shock of that day. It must have been awful"

She nodded. "I felt numb for so long. My whole world collapsed
without any warning, you know? One minute you're pedaling off
to go swim in the quarry, the next you are hearing these men tell
you that your parents are never coming back." She shuddered. "I
think I got used to the feeling of being emotionless, and as I got
older I looked for ways to anesthetize the pain. Alcohol and pot
worked pretty well. Even so, there was a part of me that wanted to
feel something, so I would push myself to do risky things, probably in the hope that I would snap out of the state I was in."

"No one helped you through it? No grief counseling, no
therapy?"

"No" She squared her shoulders. "To tell you the truth, I
wouldn't have participated even if it was offered. I felt so guilty."
She took a deep breath. "I still do."

"How could you feel guilty? What could you have done?"

She turned to Miles and there were tears in her eyes. "I could
have gone sailing with them. My father asked me. I should have
gone, and then perhaps... "

"Darby, you were just a child! Whatever happened to that boat
would have happened regardless of whether you were aboard or
not. Your dad was a world-class sailor! You would have been killed
as well."

"There were times I wished that's what had happened, believe
me. I wanted to be dead for years after they died. And maybe it's
foolish to think I could have saved the situation. But my mother
was not a sailor. She'd worked on a tall ship, but purely as a decorative feature. My father used to say she couldn't tell the mast from
the mizzon." Darby sighed. "So whatever situation they encountered, my father was alone. If I had been there, I might have made
a difference. And maybe we all would have survived."

Miles shook his head and smiled gently. "The `what-ifs' are the
worst, aren't they?" He reached out and held Darby's hands in his,
offering comfort in his touch that she welcomed. After a long moment, she rose and reached for Miles' dishes.

"Sit down, I'll take care of it later," Miles said.

"After such a great dinner? Not a chance."

"Fine, then I'll help you and we'll see if we can work on solving
this Hurricane Harbor mystery while we work, shall we?"

As Darby washed the dishes, she told Miles about her appointments for the next day. "Alicia Komolsky, Emerson Phipps' only sibling, is coming in at ten A.M. And before that, at nine A.M., Peyton
Mayerson plans to make an appearance." She thought a moment.
"I'll check back in Jane's files, see if she has any more information on Peyton's partners. It might be worth it for me to drive down to
Boston and talk to them."

"Really?"

"Sure. I mean, we can't count on Chief Dupont to do anything
other than try Lucy. He is convinced she did it and isn't going
to spend any energy or resources exploring other avenues." She
paused. "I'll meet with Ms. Mayerson tomorrow and see where we
stand on her purchase of the property now. I'll use that meeting to
get more information about her and, most important, her whereabouts Sunday morning."

"Peyton was the only one who really wanted Fairview, besides
Phipps, that is," mused Miles.

"Yes. Unless there's someone we don't know about. Someone
who wanted Fairview so badly they were ready to kill for it." She
grew thoughtful a moment. "I suppose someone could have paid
Soames to do it. Someone like Peyton."

"That's a thought. The sticking point is: how did Peyton know
about Emerson Phipps?"

"I don't know." She rinsed the last dish and handed it to Miles
to dry. "Let's think for a moment. Who did know about Phipps?
Mark, for sure, and my aunt. She was the one who drew up that
backup offer. Lucy says she never looked at the documents, so she
didn't know about Phipps until after the planning board meeting
on Monday. But Jane knew, and Mark knew. Now, would either of
them have wanted to tell Peyton Mayerson that there was another
buyer waiting in the wings?"

"Wouldn't that have been counterproductive? I mean, if Peyton
found out, she might have backed right out of the contract."

Darby turned to Miles, her eyes alive with excitement. "What if
they wanted her to back out of the contract? Jane may have even
offered Peyton money to back out. When Peyton refused, Jane had
to think of another way to force her. She made sure that planning
board approval by a specific date was a condition of the contract,
by getting Peyton to sign that index-card amendment. Miles, that's
it. Jane knew about those old restrictions-she must have, she was
such a stickler for research that she would have found those deeds
herself. She used them as a way to guarantee that the planning
board would not grant that permit, and Peyton's contract would
be void. She did it so that Emerson Phipps could be the buyer."

"So you're saying that old deed wouldn't have come to light if
your aunt hadn't found it?"

Darby nodded. "I'm certain she was the one. It's unusual for a
bank or lawyer to look back that far. I have a hunch that Jane Farr
knew from old-timers about that long-forgotten prohibition, and
all she had to do was find proof."

"But why? Why kick Peyton out and introduce a whole new
buyer?"

Darby smiled. "Money. The classic root of all evil, Miles. I can't
go into specifics, but let's just say Emerson Phipps was offering
a substantially higher amount for Fairview than Peyton and her
investors. Enough to make a difference. Rather than tell him `no
dice,' Jane Farr found a legal way to get Peyton out of the picture."
"

"And where does Soames Pemberton come in?"

I don't believe his story that he found the deed on his own. I
think my aunt found it, and needed someone to deliver it to the
planning board."

"Why not do it herself?"

"Too obvious. Chances are she paid him off for his little theatrical scene."

Miles motioned towards the living room, where a small fire was
ready to be lit. He touched a match to the tinder and it crackled to
life. They sat on the sofa before the fire, and Miles watched the
flickering shadows on Darby's thoughtful face.

"I wonder if Mark knew about the old deed as well," she said
slowly. She looked at Miles. "I'm trying to remember what he
said at the planning board meeting-something very cavalier. He
wasn't really surprised, Miles. Now that I think of it, he was the
only one in that room who wasn't shocked by Soames Pemberton's
revelation."

"How do we find out if Mark knew?"

"I'm going to use an old-fashioned method. I'm going to ask
him."

"Capital idea." He rose to poke the fire. "All this sleuthing has
made me want dessert. May I interest you in a coffee drink and an
assortment of chocolates?"

"Perfect. I'll have Bailey's if you have it."

Miles emerged from the kitchen a few minutes later with coffee, liqueurs, and a beautiful box of chocolates. "I know, I know,
they look like the kind you see in hospital..."

Darby sprang to her feet. "Miles, you've made me think of something. When I went with Mark to pick up Lucy, I took the bag of her
personal items, things she had used at the hospital. The bag brushed
against my leg in the truck and I felt something hard, like a rectangular box. What if it was a box of chocolates? Suppose that's how she
was poisoned? Someone brought them as a gift ... a gift intended to
kill."

She grabbed her cell phone and called Mark. A moment later
he had checked his sister's items from the hospital and was back
on the phone.

"Darby, you're right. There is a small box of chocolates among
her items, and two are missing." He paused. "Do you really think
they're laced with heroin?"

"I do, Mark, Lucy was adamant about not abusing drugs herself, and I believe her. There simply is no other explanation."

"What should I do? She's sleeping now, and I hate to wake
her."

"Get them to the police so Chief Dupont can have them analyzed. If we can prove that Lucy was poisoned, perhaps he'll stop
trying to pin her as Emerson Phipps' murderer."

Miles looked incredulous as Darby hung up the phone.

"Lucy Trimble ... poisoned? Who? Why?"

Darby's face wore a grim expression. "I don't know, Miles. But I
have a hunch it was the murderer."

Darby rose early the next morning, feeling as if she needed some
exercise before her appointments. Gingerly she tested her ankle; it
was still tender. I'll take it slow, she told herself. Five minutes later,
she had laced up her sneakers and was trotting carefully down the
winding roads. Determined to face her fears, she forced herself to
head to Fairview.

Even under the cloud of a murder, the grand old house retained
an almost majestic air. Darby jogged around to the side of the house,
hearing the waves crashing against the rocks below. She rounded the corner of the building and her eyes could not help but stray to the
garden cottage, where the door was ajar.

Darby stopped and walked cautiously toward the cottage. A
man emerged and Darby froze, expecting the malevolent force of
Soames Pemberton. Instead, she was greatly relieved to see Donny
Pease.

The caretaker looked up and smiled.

"Got my old job back," he said, indicating the house and estate.
"At least until somebody buys the place. Any takers, or does the
thought of a murderer on Hurricane Harbor scare 'em all off?"

"It's not helping sales, that's for sure," said Darby. "What are
you up to?"

"Cleaning up the property, that sort of thing. There's a pile of
junk behind the cottage I've been meaning to get to. Those police
detectives made a mess of the landscaping over here, and I'm just
getting it all shipshape again." He smiled happily. "Did you know
my father worked for the Trimbles way back? I grew up helping
him. I can remember as a little tyke watching him build that stone
wall over there. He was quite a gifted stone mason. Knew just
where to place the rocks so it would last forever." He gave a wistful look. "Now who knows what'll happen with the old place. You
don't suppose the Trimbles would decide to keep it, do you?"

Darby shook her head. "I don't believe so, Donny. I think
they've decided that they need to move on."

He shrugged. "Time was when a family kept a place, and passed
it on, you know? Nowadays it's all about the money." His grim expression became cheerful once more. "Still, I don't think they'll sell
it all that quickly. Not with a murderer on the loose" He glanced at his watch. "Gotta close up and run to the harbor. Don't see your
vehicle ... You want a ride anywhere?"

"That would be great, actually. Could you drop me off at Aunt
Jane's house?"

He seemed glad for the errand and whistled as they made their
way around the yard to the old truck. Darby noticed the back of
the vehicle was full of old bottles, rusted pieces of machinery, and
several old tires.

"Mark asked me to work on the old junk pile, you know, get
rid of some of the trash piled up in the woods," he said. "Used to
be that islanders didn't have a landfill to put their castoffs, so they
made their own dumps at the edge of the property."

"Have you found anything interesting?"

"At times I have. Mostly, though, it's just a lot of beat-up junk."
"

They drove the winding roads to Jane's house in silence. When
they reached the driveway, Darby thanked Donny for the lift and
he smiled.

"I hear you're trying to help Miss Lucy, and I'm grateful," he
said. "She wouldn't kill anyone, that girl. Just plain nonsense is
what it is." His expression grew grim. "That idiot police chief... "

I take it you don't think he's investigating thoroughly enough?"

Donny Pease snorted. "I know he's not investigating anywhere
near enough. He's fine when it comes to vandalism or a parking
ticket, but he's in way over his head on this murder. Hate to see
Lucy suffer 'cause Chief Dupont doesn't have a clue"

"I'll do my best to help her, Donny. Thanks again for the ride."