Old Flames Never Die (Valentine Mystery) (16 page)

“Actually, I'm a lawyer,” Tess said,
knowing that things like probate were boring compared to murder.

“Oh. Well, let me see what I can find
about that property.”

“What property?” a weathered man asked
as he entered the office. Tess determined he was probably one of the inspectors
who spent more time out in the field than in an office.

“Hey, Joe. This woman is asking about
that property the man who was killed owned,” she turned to Tess. “This is Joe.
He knows everything about everyone around here.”

“Just their land,” Joe corrected. “Are
you talking about the land owned by Charles Danforth?”

“Yes, and his partner, Bobby Wilson. I
drove by and saw the land was being cleared.”

“Cleared? No. That land is being mined.”

“Mined?” Tess asked. “Is there coal?”

“No. It's cyanite.”

“Cyanite?”

“Pretty little rock,” Joe explained.

The woman behind the counter nodded. “Bright
blue when polished.”

“Is it a valuable gem?” Tess asked.

“Some people polish it up for a gem, but
its worth is industrial. It’s heat resistant and used in all sorts of things,
from auto parts to toilet bowls.”

Toilet bowls?
“I was led to
believe they were going to build houses there.”

“That was the original plan, until they
dug up some cyanite.”

Tess thought a moment. “Did the company
own the mineral rights?”

Joe furrowed his brow. “I guess so. Mr.
Danforth does anyway. He spent a lot of time down there before he was killed.
And he hasn't been protesting the mining as many land owners who suddenly
discover that someone else can dig on their land usually do.”

Tess thanked the two and headed to the
registrar's office again. “Can I see who owns the mineral rights to the
property on 687?”

“Well, didn't I just get that for you?”
the woman asked, looking at Tess as if she wasn't right in the head.

“Yes, you showed me the deed to the
land, but not the mineral rights. Down the hall I was told they were mining the
land. I'm wondering who owns those rights?”

“Charles Danforth LLC,” the woman said. “Do
you want a copy?”

“Yes, please.”

~~~~

Tess stopped at the first coffee cafe
with a “Free Wi-Fi” sign on the window, which, despite the rural area, wasn't
far. She bought a small mocha without whipped cream and powered up her laptop.
Once online she headed to the Commonwealth of Virginia's State Corporation
Commission's website to do a search on Charles Danforth, LLC.

The entity was listed, but not as a
partnership. The results wouldn't let her see if there were any other members
of the LLC, but Tess had a nagging feeling that Charles was the sole owner and
manager. 

“Interesting,” she thought. If Charles
owned the mineral rights, his claim to the land would take precedence over the
ownership of the land. Tess knew enough about real estate law to know that
Charles could stop the housing development to mine the land and his partner
wouldn't have any recourse. And if Charles was sole owner of the mining rights,
his partner would not reap the benefits of the mining, but would be stuck with
part ownership of a property that could be worthless once the mining was done.

Tess sat back in her chair. “That could
certainly be a motive for murder.”

Back in her car, Tess headed north
toward Jefferson Tavern, rethinking her beliefs about the Danforth murder. When
she started working with Daniel, she told herself that she was open-minded
about who the killer could be. But now that she had a more viable suspect in
Bobby Wilson, Tess realized that despite her best attempts, she had been biased
against Liv. That didn't change the fact that Liv was trying to move in on
Jack, but it certainly made her less of a suspect in her husband's murder. But
she was still bothered by Liv's statements. Her alibi and readied receipts were
just too perfect. Tess wondered if maybe Liv and Bobby were involved together.

Tess was so deep in thought that she
didn't notice the dark pick-up truck that barreled up behind her until it started
to pass her on the narrow two-lane road.

“Jerk,” Tess said, as she applied the
brakes to let the truck pass. But the truck didn't pass. It pulled up alongside
her. The window lowered halfway.

“What the hell?” And then she saw the
gun. Instinct had her stepping on the brakes and ducking at the same time. She
heard the gun fire and felt the glass from her window spray over her. The car
dipped on the passenger side and Tess felt the world start to spin. Her body
jerked to the side, slamming her head into the steering wheel. She felt a blast
and then burning along her shoulders and upper back. Like a rag doll, her body
bounced from side to side. She was going to die. The realization terrified her.
But her last thought was of Jack and hoping that losing her wouldn't cause him
to lose himself.

I'm not dead,
was Tess’ first
thought when her car came to a stop in a field. Somehow the car had landed
upright and she was still strapped into her seatbelt. She thought she was
turned around and now facing the direction she'd been driving, but couldn't be
sure, because the spider web cracks in her windows made it impossible to see
out.  She started to relax, but then remembered the truck. Her head snapped up,
causing every muscle in her body to scream. But it didn't matter. She didn't
want to be sitting in her car if the person in the truck was coming back.

She heard yelling and turned to look out
the passenger side window. The distorted image of a man ran toward her.
Oh
God
, she thought as she frantically worked to get her seatbelt unclasped.
It was no use. It was jammed and the man was too close.

“Jesus, are you alright…wow!”

“No, no, no…” Tess could hear herself
chant as she yanked and pulled on the belt.

“Don't move— you might make it worse.
I've called nine one one— just sit tight.”

It finally sank in that the man wasn't a
would-be murderer, but a Good Samaritan.

“Are you hurt? Stupid…of course you're
hurt. But I mean your neck and back...how do they feel? You should just sit
still,” he rambled, as he yanked her car door open.

She took a deep breath that hurt like
hell and then simply sat. “I think I'm okay.”

“It was the truck, wasn't it? It damn
near drove me off the road too.”

“Did you see it? The person? The plate?”

“Are you kidding? It was going way too
fast. I've never seen a vehicle move that fast outside of NASCAR.” She got her
first good look at the man and thought he looked like the farmer in Grant
Wood's
American Gothic
. Except her would-be hero looked panicked, not
stern.

“You know on the outside, you look
pretty good,” the man said. “You've got a little cut on your forehead. I guess
airbags really do make a difference.”

She supposed she should be glad she
looked good on the outside. The inside didn't feel so great, but she decided
she was lucky it wasn't worse. In the distance, Tess could hear the sirens.

“Look, look. Here is the rescue squad.”

“Thank you for helping me,” Tess
managed. But the man had already moved away so that paramedics could treat her.

~~~~

Could have been worse.
The emergency
room doctor's words replayed in her mind. Fortunately, after being poked,
prodded and tested, it was determined that Tess' injuries consisted of a few
superficial cuts and bruises. She gave a statement to a Buck's County deputy
sheriff and was finally ready to leave the hospital. Except she didn't have a
car. Just her luck. In the last three months, she lost her house and office,
and now her car. She wondered if she'd lost her man too, since Jack still
hadn't called her back. Pulling her phone from the purse that survived the
accident unscathed, she called his cell number again and got his voicemail
again. She left a message, again. And worried, again. Was he hurt? Was he done
with her? Where was he? She decided to try his office.

“Hi, Mrs. Stauffer. It's Tess. Is Jack
available?”

There was a pause. “Mr. Valentine isn't
in today. He went up to northern Virginia, I think, to visit Ms. Peterson.”

He'd left town?
Tess' heart
sank. He'd gone to visit Cora before, but he'd always told her where he was and
when he'd be back. Not wanting Mrs. Stauffer to know she was out of the loop
where Jack was concerned, she said, “Oh, that's right. I completely forgot.”

“Mr. Chancellor's here. He might know
more about Mr. Valentine's plans.” That was weird too. Why would Brad be in
Jefferson Tavern? Had Jack left town for good? Without her?

“No. That's okay.” Tess said, swallowing
the lump in her throat.

“I'm going to miss him,” Mrs. Stauffer
said. “But I can't blame him. If I had a choice, I'd leave too.”

Tess rubbed the pain in her chest that
had nothing to do with her accident. She thanked Mrs. Stauffer and ended the
call. She tried not to dwell on the worst-case scenario. Surely Jack would let
her know what was going on. She could only hope that when he did talk to her, he
would include her in his new plans.

Since Jack couldn't help her, her only
choice was to call Daniel. She made the call brief, telling him she'd had an
accident, needed a change of clothes to replace the ones the paramedics ruined,
and a ride. She hung up before he could interrogate her.

~~~~

“What the hell!” Daniel said when he
arrived at the hospital.

“I'm fine. Just a few bumps and bruises.”

“Someone tried to kill you.”

“But he didn't. Did you bring me some
clothes?”

He gave her an annoyed look. Before
either of them could say more, the hospital door opened and Shelby Worthington
breezed in. “I come bearing gifts,” she said.

It was Tess' turn to look annoyed. 
Married to Daniel's cousin Philip, Shelby was the
quintessential
trophy wife and the last person Tess
needed to deal with.

“I must say, Tess, you have fabulous
taste in underwear. Who'd have thought?” Shelby handed a small overnight bag to
Tess.

Tess took the bag, but kept her eyes on
Daniel. He gave her a sheepish smile. “Mom is working and I wasn't comfortable
going through your things.”

“So what happened?” Shelby asked.

“Someone ran me off the road,” Tess
said.

“On purpose?”

Tess nodded. “Yes.”

“Wow. Was it Liv Danforth? No doubt she
wants you out of the way.”

“Why would you say that?” Daniel asked.

“Because everyone knows she needs a new
sugar daddy now that she got rid of her husband.”

“You think she killed her husband?” Tess
asked.

“Everyone knows she did.”

“There's no evidence to support that,”
Daniel said.

“He's dead, isn't he?”

“Very,” Daniel said. “But there is
nothing that links her to the crime.”

“She did it.” Shelby waved her hand as
if to brush Daniel's comment away. “Charles was going to leave her. No way
she'd allow that.”

“What do you mean Charles was going to
leave her?” Tess asked.

Shelby looked at Tess and then Daniel as
if they were the two biggest dummies on earth. “He's got a new woman from
Tennessee or Kentucky or someplace like that. Turns out the horses weren't the
only things breeding when they got together.”

Theresa Cromwell was from Tennessee,
Tess thought.

“How do you know this?” Daniel asked.

“Everyone knows it.”

“Like who?”

“I heard it from Monica Snowden.”

“How would she know about Charles
Danforth's personal life?”

“Her husband introduced them,” Shelby
said matter-of-factly. “How do you not know this if you're investigating it?”

“None of Danforth's friends have
indicated he was leaving Liv. Why would Monica Snowden know?”

Shelby shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe
from the other woman. Just because Charles doesn't kiss and tell doesn't mean
she doesn't.”

She had a point, Tess thought. She knew
from Daniel that Theresa Cromwell would be coming to the funeral and that he
thought there was an affair between her and Danforth, so Shelby's gossip could
have some truth to it.

Shelby's phone beeped. “Oh, that's
Lauren,” she said looking at the text. “She's redoing her kitchen and I said
I'd stop by to help her with ideas, so I've gotta run.” She put her phone back
in her purse. “By the way Tess, where do you get your lingerie? I'm sure
Phillip wouldn't mind my picking up some.”