Breaking Ground (33 page)

“Okay,” Mike said. “You're saying Frank killed Mary Ellen to make sure the deal went through?”

“Right.”

“I've got a question on that,” the policeman said. “Why did he do it at the groundbreaking site, and with a shovel that just happened to be there? That doesn't sound premeditated to me.”

“Nor to me,” Julie said. “I don't think he planned to do it, and certainly not where and how. My guess—it's only a guess, but I think it's reasonable—is that he happened by the site, saw Mary Ellen, started talking to her about the price. And Mary Ellen, being Mary Ellen, got stubborn and said she had time to back out of the deal altogether. Now
that
would really have scared Frank because he just had to go ahead with this project because of his debts.”

“So he panicked and killed her?” Mike asked.

“That's my guess, yes; and walking away with a bloody shovel wasn't possible, so he hid it. And then afterwards he found out from Luke that the ownership might be disputed, which would put him right back where he was—in financial trouble.”

“But don't you think he could get back the money they paid?” Rich asked.

“Probably so, or at least probably, eventually. But just imagine the legal mess that would follow if Luke made the various claims public. You know what the law's like—a case like that would keep an army of lawyers busy for years. Frank couldn't wait—he had borrowed heavily and needed to get the project under way. I really think his debts are at the heart of this, dragging him deeper and deeper.”

“So he had good reason to steal the letter from the archives and then to steal your copy of it,” Rich concluded.

“And to hide the family diary,” Julie added.

“I see that,” Mike said.

“Me, too,” Rich added. “But there's a big problem here, Julie: Frank had plenty of chance to retrieve the shovel from the
backhoe. He could come and go whenever he wanted at Birch Brook. Why would he leave it there?”

“To implicate Luke!” Julie shouted. “That's not a
problem
, Rich—it's the
solution
. With Mary Ellen out of the way, Frank thinks the deal is safe. But then Luke starts to dig into the Swanson papers and tells Frank why. If Luke can prove the land didn't really belong to the Swansons because they got it through trickery or blackmail or whatever, he could sue to regain the title—and make himself a lot of money, at Frank's expense.”

“So Frank had a double reason to get rid of the letter and the diary,” Mike said. “First, the money, and second, to keep us from seeing that Mary Ellen's death was related to the sale. If he killed her to keep her from backing out, he sure didn't want Luke Dyer messing around in the matter and putting everything up for review.”

“Exactly! Doesn't it all fit?” Julie said.

“I'm still stuck on the shovel,” Rich said. “To implicate Luke, which is your assumption, Frank would have to be sure his own prints weren't on it. That's at a minimum. Better yet if Luke's were—but how would he do that?”

“I'm not sure he had to go that far,” Julie said. “I agree it would be hard to do that. But if the shovel doesn't have any prints, the fact is, it's still in Luke's backhoe, and that would certainly make Luke a suspect. Wouldn't you be interested in that, Mike?”

“Sure. Though I guess Luke could argue that if he had killed Mary Ellen, he would have gotten rid of the shovel as soon as he could, and he had even more opportunity than Frank to do that.”

“He could argue that, but wouldn't you still be suspicious, Mike?”

“Absolutely. Especially since his alibi for the time of Mary Ellen's death was that he was at Birch Brook alone. Which means
no alibi at all. And like Frank, as you said, Luke had a motive—to make sure Mary Ellen didn't back out.”

“But even if you'd suspect Luke,” Rich said, “that doesn't put Frank in the clear. It just seems to me he's sort of trapped still. If we follow Julie's logic, he killed Mary Ellen and then figured he was in the clear on the deal. Then he found out from Luke about the Swanson papers and the clouded ownership. So he stole them, and he thinks he's in the clear again. Except that Luke can still keep digging, and if he does, the whole business comes out. He's got to do something to keep things from flying apart.”

“And you know what that means,” Julie said.

“No, I don't think I do,” Rich replied.

“
I
do,” Mike said. “He's got to kill Luke.”

“Exactly!” Julie said.

“Damned answering machines!” Mike said more to himself than to Julie and Rich, who stood watching as he called Frank Nilsson. “Either he's not home or he's not answering,” Mike said, this time in their direction. “Can you find Luke's home number for me?”

Julie pulled the thin Ryland directory from the drawer and read the number out as Mike dialed it.

“Mrs. Dyer,” he said with a calmness that amazed Julie, “this is Chief Barlow. I'd like to talk to your husband if I may.” He listened silently to her reply. “What time was that?” he asked. And then: “Did he say
where
they were meeting? Okay, thanks, Mrs. Dyer, I can check there. If he does get home before I catch up with him, would you just ask him to call me, please? Thanks. You too.”

Julie didn't need to ask for an explanation. “Frank called Luke around three o'clock,” Mike said, “just after he came in from taking those pictures at Birch Brook. Said something important had come up and they needed to talk. Mrs. Dyer says Luke left to meet Frank at four. At Birch Brook.” He smiled. “They'll be surprised to find Officer Stearns when they get there.” He looked at his watch. “Almost four. I better get going.” He picked up his notebook and was reaching for the radio sitting next to it on the table when it crackled to life and a voice asked, “Chief Barlow? Stearns here.”

“Go ahead,” Mike answered.

“Sorry, Chief, but I had an urgent call. Two-car accident on the East Flat Road—sounds serious. I'm on my way, but I wanted you to know I had to leave the Birch Brook site. Maybe you can get someone else out there. It's been real quiet.”

Barlow frowned but told Stearns to continue to the accident scene. “I'll head to Birch Brook now,” he said. “Anyone else around there?”

“No. Like I said, it's real quiet. You want me to come back after I do the accident?”

“I'll take over, Stearns. Got to go,” he said in Julie's direction after he ended the call. “I'll get in touch later.”

Before Julie and Rich could say anything, the policeman was out the door, running across the garden toward his cruiser. Rich put his arm around her. “Nothing you can do now,” he said.

“I guess not.”

“Except, of course,” he quickly added, “to tell me what the hell's going on. Why did you say Frank has to kill Luke?”

“You said it, Rich: to keep things from flying apart. Every time Frank thought he had something under control, it came loose. It must have seemed like that Whack-a-Mole game to him: you hit one, and up comes another. If Mary Ellen backed out of the deal, Frank would be in big financial trouble. So he got control of that one by killing her. Then up popped Luke with questions about ownership, so he got that back under control by getting rid of the evidence. But then when Mike interviewed him this morning about where he was last Wednesday night, he realized something else had gotten loose—he was definitely under suspicion for the break-in.”

“I follow all that—but not why he has to kill Luke.”

“Because Luke could tell
Mike
what he told
us
—that he told Frank about the land problems. And that proved Frank's motive for getting rid of the letter and the diary. So killing Luke brings everything back under control.”

“Not everything,” Rich said. “What about the shovel?”

“That, too. If Luke's dead, and even if there are no prints on the shovel, the police will assume he killed Mary Ellen and hid the shovel in his backhoe.”

“If Luke's dead, doesn't Mike have to find his killer?”

“Not if he committed suicide.”

“But you said Frank wants to kill him.”

“He does. For all the reasons I said. But he has to make it look like suicide. At least that's what I think he's going to try. I just hope Mike gets there in time!”

The next hour felt to Julie like the longest day she had ever spent. Rich tried to read papers, but Julie's pacing distracted him. He suggested they take a walk, but Julie wanted to stay in the house in case Mike called. He suggested they take the portable phone out into the garden and he'd do some work on it. She agreed.

Julie circled around and around Rich, who was on his knees, pulling weeds.

“I wish we could drive out to Birch Brook, but Mike would kill us.”

“Wrong word,” Rich said.

“I can't stand this waiting. I just hope Mike gets there in time.”

“He'll call as soon as he can, Julie. We just have to be patient.”

The phone rang, and Julie answered it on the first ring. “Not interested!” she shouted and hit the
OFF
button. “Damned telemarketers!” she said. “I hope Mike wasn't trying to call right then.”

“You weren't on the line for more than two seconds.”

“Maybe three,” she said. “It's after five, Rich,” Julie replied. “This is taking too long! I just wish …”

And as if in response to her wish, the phone rang. Rich watched as she smiled and the smile swelled to fill her face. “I'm so glad, Luke,” she said. “I was expecting Mike, but it's even better to hear your voice. No, I understand—it was good of Mike to have you call. Yes, I'm sure he'll be busy. Well, thanks, but really, I don't deserve any credit. Okay.”

Julie punched the
OFF
button and threw her arms around Rich. “Mike made it in time! Luke's okay, and Mike arrested Frank!”

Holding her tight, Rich felt Julie shaking. “Hey, it's okay then.” But she began to sob. “It's okay, it's okay,” he repeated, and steered her toward the house. “Let's go inside.”

Rich stood over Julie as she sat at the table. “Want to talk?” he asked gently.

“Not much to say,” she replied between sobs. “Can you get me a tissue?”

Rich took the paper towels from the counter and pulled one to hand to her. “Big towels for a big cry,” he said. She laughed and used the towel to wipe her eyes.

“Sorry, but it's just such a relief. That it's over. And it was so nice of Luke to say that—he thanked me for saving his life. Did I say that?”

“No, you haven't said anything.”

“Luke said Mike asked him to call since he knew we'd be waiting, and Mike had to take Frank in and didn't have time. I can't wait to get the details, but the main thing is that Mike got there in time to keep Frank from killing Luke.”

“Then you really did save his life. By solving the puzzle. Just in time.”

“Took me long enough, didn't it?” she said, smiling. “I was all over the place on this, Rich, but I guess it finally worked out.”

“No,
you
worked it out, Julie. You should feel very good about that. But just don't make it a habit—solving murders.”

“I just hope people don't make a habit of committing murders.”

“That's hard to disagree with. How about some coffee?”

“Maybe something stronger.”

Rich opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of white wine. “I was saving this for dinner, but, hey, why not?”

Julie said she wasn't really hungry because of everything that had happened, but Rich said he was
always
hungry, and insisted on fixing them an asparagus and leek frittata he had seen a recipe for in the newspaper. When she smelled it and then saw it, Julie
said she was glad he had insisted, and found she was much hungrier than she had realized.

“So now that it's all over,” Rich said between bites, “what about those letters from the doctor?”

“The Tabor letters. You mean the two that mention Swanson in the Depression?”

“Right.”

“They don't add much, do they?”

“Probably not to the case against Nilsson, but they do add to what we know about Ryland.”

“My ‘Down and Out in Ryland, Maine,' you mean?”

“Exactly. You're going to keep on with it, aren't you? Here you've got those great letters with lots of local detail and all. It's a treasure trove.”

“I know, I know. But finding time to really do historical research—well, it isn't easy with my job. Maybe you should look at them. Hey, that's an idea. We could collaborate. You're the real historian, and I could sort of help out with stuff about Ryland.”

“I'm a colonialist; what do I know about the Depression? No, it's your project. And right now, I think it's time to call it a night, after I get the kitchen cleaned up.”

While he cleared in the kitchen, Julie fell asleep in the chair, and so when Mike called at 10:30, she practically jumped up at the sound of the phone. He apologized for calling so late and said he just wanted to be sure that Julie had heard from Luke. Julie told him Luke had thanked her for saving his life. “But you were the one,” she added. “You got there in time.”

“Thanks to you,” Mike said. “I'll fill you in later; we'll talk tomorrow.”

With that welcome prospect, Julie announced she was going to bed, and Rich was happy to join her at once. She slept better that night than she had in weeks.

Rich gently rubbed her shoulder to wake her.

“What time is it?” she asked as she sat up and tried to focus.

“It's eight-fifteen. Barlow just called. He wants to get together at the station. You want to return his call?”