A House to Die For (A Darby Farr Mystery) (13 page)

THE EMERGENCY MEDICAL TECHNICIAN slammed the back door
of the ambulance with a curt nod to Darby and Chief Dupont.
Mark Trimble was already inside the vehicle, crouched beside his
sister with another EMT.

"She's going to make it," the EMT said, as he opened the driverside door and climbed in. "Her fall caused a few broken bones, but
we don't see any signs of internal trauma."

"What's all that blood from?" Chief Dupont asked. "Can you
tell?"

"Not from any wound that I could see" The technician pulled
his door closed and started the ambulance. The chief turned to
Darby with a frown.

"My guys took a sample, but it doesn't take a genius to figure
out she's wearing Phipps' blood. It's all over her white blouse, for
Chrissake. Backs up the old guy's story, too. Apparently she didn't
want to sell the old place, probably had sentimental reasons-and
so she killed this guy Phipps."

"That doesn't make sense," Darby said. "For one thing, Donny
Pease saw Lucy running before he discovered the body. Why
wouldn't she have taken off before he came to?"

"He surprised her in the act," the chief said confidently. "Happens all the time. Then Miss Trimble had a fit of remorse and
threw herself over the cliff."

Darby shook her head. "Lucy wasn't attached to that house.
She and her brother both wanted to sell it." Although Lucy hadn't
wanted to sell it to Emerson Phipps.

"I'm not arresting her-not yet, anyway. I need the medical examiner to get here and give me a time of death. Then you can bet
I'll be bringing Miss Lucy in for questioning."

He leaned back on the heels of his scuffed shoes and regarded
Darby.

"So, where are you staying while you're here? Your aunt's place?"

Darby nodded.

"You here until her memorial service?"

"I'm not sure."

She saw the chief raise his eyebrows at her indecision. Her feelings about the old woman were complicated, to say the least. Am
I staying for her service? My schedule has opened up. I could take
a more active role in putting Jane Farr-and my past-to rest. She
made a mental note to call the minister about arrangements.

"There's a new restaurant in Manatuck with family-style dinners and such," continued Chief Dupont. "If you're not busy, we
could talk about old times..."

This is exactly why I'm single, Darby thought. She shot him a
grimace that she knew he'd interpret as a smile.

"Thanks, but I'm not up to a dinner date. Will you call me
when you know the time of death?"

Charles Dupont nodded. "What will you do in the meantime?
There's no place to hide on this island."

Darby kept her anger in check. "I won't be hiding," she said
briskly. "I've got a funeral to plan."

Real estate deals do not always work out. As skilled as she was,
Darby Farr knew that there were forces beyond her control that
could scuttle a transaction, and she did her best to prepare her clients for that possibility ahead of time. Still, there were times even
Darby was caught off guard.

Mark Trimble's reaction to the abrupt end of his second Fairview deal astonished her.

"Easy come, easy go," he said lightly, as he perched on the edge
of his sister's hospital bed. "I mean, it was a good deal, don't get
me wrong, but maybe it was too good to be true?" He gazed down
at Lucy Trimble's bandaged arm and pale complexion. "Besides,
Lucy didn't like the guy anyway."

Darby pulled up a chair and sat down by the hospital bed.

"You've got your priorities straight, and I like that," she said,
watching Lucy's chest rise ever so slightly with her breathing. "But
I get the sense you feel responsible for what happened today. Selling your estate doesn't mean you're a neglectful brother. I'll call
Peyton as soon as I leave the hospital. She still wants Fairview. We
can make a deal happen."

"But I didn't listen to my sister, Darby," he said, his voice a
whisper. "Lucy told me how she felt and I didn't even care. And
now...

"She had an accident, Mark, and she's going to be okay. Seeing
Phipps upset her, and she had an accident."

"But the blood..."

"She was trying to help the guy! Isn't that what she said to you
in the ambulance? You can't think for a minute that she had anything to do with his death."

"No" Mark stood up, walked across the room and looked out
the window. With its proximity to Manatuck Harbor, the hospital's
rooms boasted a few five-star views of the ferry landing and a seaweed processing plant. "I saw her lying there, and all I could think
of was Wes."

He turned and Darby saw the pained expression on his face.
"I've already lost one sibling. I can't bear to think that Lucy..."

There was a soft knock on the door. Laura Gefferelli, holding a
bouquet of lupines, peered into the room. "May I come in?"

Mark nodded and the minister closed the door softly behind
her. "How is Lucy?"

"Stable. No internal injuries, thank God." He gave a guilty
glance at Laura. "I mean..."

Laura smiled. "I couldn't agree with you more. Thank God"
She walked to the bed and put a hand on Lucy's shoulder. "Has she
regained consciousness at all?"

No.

"She will. Her body is just recovering from the shock." She
turned to Darby. "And how are you holding up? You couldn't have
imagined such an eventful trip east."

"I'm fine, thanks." Darby glanced at her watch. The courthouse
in Manatuck was a short walk away; if she left now, she would be
there before they closed. "I think I may do a quick deed search for
Fairview," she said. "I'd like to see if I can find any proof of that
anti-drinking language in the original deed."

Mark sighed. "I don't even care anymore, Darby. Lucy and I
can keep Fairview, rent it out or something. Maybe I'll even move
back in there."

"No way." The voice was feeble, but all three heard the words
clearly. Lucy Trimble's eyelids flickered and she said again, "No
way are we keeping that house"

"Lucy!" Mark rushed to the bed and bent over his sister. "You
scared me, Lu. I couldn't take it if something happened to you."

Lucy Trimble swallowed painfully and Laura offered her a
sip of water through a straw. She accepted, wincing as the liquid
touched her parched lips.

"Thanks, Laura." She winced again. "Darby, I thought I heard
your voice. It's good to see you. Sorry I'm such a mess."

"I'm glad you're okay, Lucy. That was quite a fall"

Lucy tried to lift her head up, but sank back on the pillow in
pain. "It wasn't a fall," she said firmly. "Somebody gave me a good,
hard shove."

Her brother gasped. "What?"

Lucy nodded. "I walked over to Fairview for one last look. I saw
the BMW, Donny's truck, and the shed with the doors open. When
I saw the body..." she paused and looked at Laura Gefferelli. "I've
got to tell them the whole thing."

"You're not up to it," Laura said quietly. "Tell them later"

Lucy shook her head. "No. This is the time."

She motioned for another sip of water and Laura once again
complied. When Lucy spoke, her voice was stronger than before.

"You know how much I hate Fairview," she said, her eyes searching Mark's face. He nodded and she continued. "I want nothing
more than to sell that place and be done with it once and for all.
I don't care if it becomes a wedding resort, or a dog kennel, or if it
burns to the ground. But I didn't want it sold to Emerson Phipps."

She took a ragged breath, her eyes focused on Mark. "I was sixteen the summer Phipps came to visit you." She turned her head
slowly toward Darby. "You must remember that summer? We were
having such a blast..."

Darby nodded. She had only a hazy memory of Emerson Phipps,
and the image of him mangled on the shed floor at Fairview wasn't
helping.

"He visited for a few days in late June, and then he came again
in July. And it was on his second trip that he raped me."

"What!" Mark exploded out of his chair, his eyes blazing. "That
bastard! How..."

"The details don't matter," Lucy said wearily. "I played tennis
with him, I saw him that night in the library, he gave me some
whiskey... "

Suddenly Darby saw it all: Lucy, laughing in her tennis skirt and
sleeveless blouse, swinging her racket and talking to her brother's
charming friend from Dartmouth; Mrs. Phipps' vacant glance at
the dinner table, as she pushed away her chair and retired to her
private wing; the easy friendliness of Mark Trimble, offering a sunset sail, but his friend turning it down, looking instead at the lithe
teenager in her tennis whites, his eyes a cold blue ...

Darby shuddered. She knew now why Lucy had not returned
to school that summer, why she had changed from a carefree girl
to a careless addict. She understood it all, except for one thing.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered. "We were best friends.
I could have helped you."

"I wanted to," Lucy said softly. "I wanted to with all my heart.
But I was ashamed, Darby. I thought that if I didn't say anything,
it would go away." She exhaled and closed her eyes for a brief moment. "But of course, it didn't." She bit her lip. "Six weeks or so
later, I knew I was pregnant. I had to tell someone, so I went to see
Dr. Hotchkiss. He promised that he wouldn't tell my mother, but
of course he did. He wasn't going to keep something like that from
the most powerful family in town."

"You went away to school," Darby said. "You went to boarding
school in New York."

"I went to a home for unwed mothers in New York," said Lucy.
"My mother told everyone I was at a private academy, but I was
tucked away in Albany until the baby was born. Not even my father knew what was going on."

Mark looked dumbfounded. "I can't believe it. Phipps ... he did
that to you. Why didn't you ever tell me, Lucy? All these years..."
His voice took on a hard edge. "I'm sorry I wasn't the one to kill
him."

"Somebody beat you to it," said Laura Gefferelli, placing a
calming hand on his trembling arm.

Darby stood up, her mind racing. "Lucy, what happened after
you found Phipps?"

"I think I went into some sort of trance," she said. "I looked
down, and the next thing I knew, I was covered in blood. I got up and ran across the lawn and toward the ocean. I stopped at the
edge of the cliff, screaming. I felt a hard shove, and all of a sudden
I was falling..."

"Did you see who pushed you?"

Lucy's eyes were brimming with tears. "I know it's impossible,
but I keep thinking it was Emerson Phipps."

Given Lucy's painful news, Darby decided to postpone her trip to
the Manatuck courthouse, and instead made a coffee run to the
hospital cafeteria. Although she hadn't eaten since eight A.M. that
morning, the sight of the doughnuts and stale muffins repulsed
her. As she made her way back to Lucy's room with the steaming
Styrofoam cups, she saw the bulky form of Charles Dupont passing
the nurse's station. Her heart sank. His presence could mean only
one thing: Lucy Trimble was about to be questioned for murder.

Chief Dupont looked up as she approached. "Why thank you,
darling, don't mind if I do." He grabbed a coffee and gave her a
hard look. "Shouldn't you be planning a funeral?"

"It just so happens that I have been meeting with Reverend
Gefferelli in Lucy's room," she said. The chief didn't need to know
what they'd been meeting about, she reasoned.

"That so? I'm here to ask Lucy Trimble a few questions, now
that we know what time of day Dr. Phipps was killed."

Darby kept herself from asking and opened the door. "Coffees,"
she announced. "Coffees, and Chief Dupont."

The others were silent as he made his way inside the room. He
regarded Lucy's open eyes with satisfaction. "Why you're awake, Miss Lucy. That will make the job of questioning you that much
easier."

He pulled up a plastic chair and eased onto it. "Normally I would
ask you all to clear out of here and leave us alone. But if you can
keep your mouths shut, I'll allow you to stay, seeing as how Miss
Lucy is pretty banged up." He glanced at Mark Trimble. "Do you
understand what I'm saying?"