A House to Die For (A Darby Farr Mystery) (26 page)

Chief Dupont gave Darby a frosty look as she and Miles entered
his office.

"You again? What is it you want this time? I don't mean to be
rude, but I'm a busy man." He shuffled a stack of papers on his
desk as if to reinforce his words.

"There are a few things involving Lucy Trimble that I'm not
sure you're considering."

"Oh really? So, you're not just an expert on real estate, eh?
You've come all the way from California to tell me how to do my
job?"

Darby pressed on. "Have you tested those chocolates? What if
Lucy was poisoned?"

"The chocolates are still at the lab in Manatuck. So what if she
was poisoned? She still could have killed the guy."

"What if someone was trying to frame her?"

Chief Dupont snorted. "Look, we've got ourselves someone
who always thought she was above the law. It's a typical mentality
of the summer people. She didn't want to sell her big fancy house,
but her brother did. And then she didn't like the guy buying it. So,
she puts on her jumpsuit, and goes over to Fairview, and smashes
in his skull. And just because she's a Trimble, she thinks she can
get away with it."

"Lucy Trimble's not a 'summer person'," Darby said. "She grew
up here just like I did."

"You know damn well she's not one of us," Chief Dupont
sneered. "She's never had to worry if she could pay her heating bill
come winter. She's never had to clip coupons, or cook for somebody
because her husband was scraping by... " He stopped abruptly and
sank back into his chair.

Darby leaned forward. "What are you saying?"

"Nothing" His voice was tired.

"Are you talking about my parents?"

Miles touched her hand gently. "Darby, let's go, we can... "

"No! I want him to tell me what he's talking about." She glared
at Chief Dupont. "You've been hinting at something ever since I
set foot on Hurricane Harbor. Now's your chance to get it off your
chest."

"It doesn't have anything to do with this investigation," he said
gruffly.

"It has to do with how you're treating me."

The chief was quiet for a moment, regarding Darby under
bushy eyebrows. He cleared his throat.

"Your mother cooked for me twice a week," he said quietly. "For
a year or so. My wife was useless, half in the bag, and Jada said she
could use a little extra cash."

Darby stood up, stunned. "She never said anything about cooking for anyone."

"She didn't want your father to know."

Darby turned and walked toward the door.

"I'm just trying to tell you," the chief called after her. "Your
friend Lucy Trimble is not one of us."

Darby was reeling as she and Miles left the police station. She made
her way to Jane's truck and climbed in, wordlessly. Miles got in beside her and they sat quietly for a few minutes. Finally, Darby turned
to Miles.

"I don't want to believe what he said, but it makes sense,"
Darby said. "I remember her making large quantities of food, and
I always wondered who she packed it up for."

"There's nothing wrong with what your mother did," Miles
said. "She was a personal chef, making some extra money for her
family."

"I know. But she kept it a secret from my father. Why?"

"Maybe she didn't want to tell him she needed more help with
the household finances. A lot of couples don't like to talk about
money, even people who seem very savvy."

Darby thought a moment. "Now I know why the chief has been
acting so strangely toward me. Miles, I think he had a crush on my
mother-I don't think it was more than that-and for some reason I make him uncomfortable."

"Do you resemble your mother?"

Darby glanced in the mirror at her almond eyes and glossy
black hair. Her features were softer than her mother's, but there
was an undeniable family resemblance. "Yes" She took a breath,
wanting to change the subject, hoping to keep the pain at bay.

"He's dead set on pinning this whole thing on Lucy Trimble. If
he were to get his hands on that medical record... "

Miles nodded. "That would be the nail in her coffin, if you'll
forgive the terrible cliche" He paused and looked Darby in the eye.
"What next?"

She caught the scent of his soap, something woodsy and clean,
and felt her face grow warm with the force of his gaze. Why did he
have to make it so hard for her to concentrate?

"Well, I think we need to find out where Soames Pemberton is
holing up." She made a major effort to focus on something other
than his rugged face. "I'm going to see Laura Gefferelli. She may
have some ideas as to Soames' whereabouts. What about you?"

"I want to be with you, naturally, but I do think I need to plug
away on this article, for a little while at least. Are you going to be
okay?"

Darby nodded.

"Then I'll head back to the cottage. Promise you'll stay in
touch?"

"Promise" Darby was glad he couldn't see the flush in her
cheeks as he climbed out of Jane's truck and waved goodbye.

The church was hushed and quiet as Darby made her way through
the sanctuary and back to Laura Gefferelli's cramped office. Despite its small size, the minister had made the little room cheerful and pleasant. A neat row of books lined a shelf, a few framed
pictures hung on the walls, and Laura's diploma from seminary
school was on the wall.

She looked up with pleased surprise as Darby knocked on the
open door.

"Come in, Darby. Great to see you." She stood and moved a few
things off a chair and indicated she should take a seat. "I assume
you're here to do some finishing details on Jane's service..."

"No," Darby admitted. "Actually, I'm looking for Soames Pemberton."

"A difficult person to find. Has new evidence come to light?"

"Not really, but I believe he killed Emerson Phipps and framed
Lucy."

Laura Gefferelli shook her head. "I can't say that I'd be surprised," she said quietly. "Soames Pemberton is a very troubled man. A brilliant, but deeply disturbed man. Did you know he was
a Navy SEAL?"

"I'd heard something like that."

"I've pieced together the gist of his story. He was in the Persian Gulf when Iraq invaded Kuwait in August of 1990, retrieving
downed pilots and taking part in mine hunting missions. Then he
was sent to patrol the water border between Kuwait and Saudi Arabia, and one of the mines he was detonating exploded. Soames was
hospitalized for months. He came back dependent on pain killers. Added to the post-traumatic stress from his missions, it makes
it nearly impossible for him to function in everyday society." She
closed her eyes and murmured something, which Darby assumed
was a quick prayer. "It hurts me to see a soul that troubled," she
said with feeling.

Darby nodded, but she found it difficult to feel anything approaching sympathy for the man who'd attacked her twice.

"I really tried-we all tried, especially Lucy-to break through
and touch his humanness," continued Laura. "But Soames operates in combat mode-he won't let anyone in. In the past year, his
behavior's become even more erratic, and his rantings at therapy
make less and less sense. And now if he has taken a life..." She
rose from her desk and became businesslike. "What you have to
remember is that Soames Pemberton is an extremely dangerous
man. You've seen some of that, right, Darby?"

Darby nodded. "He's a time bomb."

"Exactly. I think you should let Chief Dupont deal with him."
"

I will tell the chief, but I'd like to know his whereabouts."

Laura sighed. "I know there's an abandoned cabin over by the
Powderkeg quarry where he's lived before. Do you know where
that is?"

"By the transfer station?"

"Yes. I could drive you by it, if you'd like. Or you could follow
me in your truck."

"I'll come with you," Darby said. "I left the truck at the office
and walked over."

Darby watched as Laura closed her office door and led her
through the church.

"Pastor Thompson is still recovering from his illness," she said,
pointing to a much larger office where the senior minister worked.
Darby could see the harbor through the office's large picture window. "He's been out for several weeks now. I'm kind of getting used
to the quiet." She smiled. "Actually I miss him quite a bit. He's a brilliant man, especially when it comes to a few books of the Old Testament. His writings on the book of Isaiah are very well received" Her
face clouded with concern. "I understand that his prognosis isn't too
good though. He has lung cancer, I believe. I'm not sure how much
longer First Congregational will have him."

"What happens to your position if he can't return to work?"

"I don't know," Laura said thoughtfully. "I'm willing to do
whatever the congregation needs. I love this island and my parishioners."

"Might they promote you as the senior minister?"

Laura smiled. "Anything's possible."

They exited the church and Darby saw Laura's Subaru parked
a few steps away. The two walked to it, but Laura paused before opening the door and gazed at the harbor. "I always stop and thank
God for this amazing place," she said.

"What brought you here?"

"The sea and the job. I grew up on Cape Cod, and the coast
is definitely in my blood. I'm learning how to sail, did you know
that?"

"Yes, I saw your boat moored next to Mark Trimble's."

"He's my instructor, and a great one at that. So what do you
think of What's in a Name? Isn't she a sweet little boat? Sturdy,
stable-I'll have to take you out for a sail."

Darby said nothing and Laura's smile faded.

"I'm sorry. Is sailing a painful subject, given your parents' accident?"

Darby climbed into Laura Gefferelli's car and waited for the
older woman to join her. "I guess it is. I don't have any desire to
sail now, but at one time, I absolutely loved it."

"Loss of loved ones can do that to you," said Laura gently. "I
myself lost my sister a few years back. It was an accident, just like
your parents' deaths. I know how hard it is to go on when you miss
someone so much." She touched Darby's hand. "I realize you aren't
staying on the island for much longer, but if you ever want to talk,
my door is always open."

Darby nodded but kept her feelings to herself. They were too
thorny to entangle, like the beach roses she'd tried to gather as a
girl. She hadn't counted on how difficult it would be to face the
loss of her parents all over again, more than fifteen years later.

They drove in silence into the interior of the island, heading
toward the transfer station. Just before the entrance to the dump,
Laura took a sharp left. It was a dirt road that ended at a series of quarries once mined for granite. A few hundred feet down the
road was a rough path, so overgrown it was nearly invisible.

Laura pointed at the rocky trail. "That winds down to a small
quarry that the locals call Powderkeg. Just before the quarry itself
is a small structure, so rough it's barely standing. It blends into
the surrounding brush so well you really have to be looking for it.
I know Soames stays there on and off." She turned to face Darby.
"There is no one-and I mean no one-down there. So promise
me that if you go, you'll take someone with you."
"

I will," Darby pledged.

Laura backed up the car and turned back onto the road where
the transfer station was. "I'm worried about Soames doing harm
to himself. He's tried it before, you know." She slowed as a flock
of wild turkeys skittered across the road. "In my years of working
with addictions, I find heroin addicts the most challenging. It's an
evil thing. I look at poor Lucy and her struggles..."

"She has no recollection of yesterday afternoon," Darby said. "I
think Soames Pemberton could have drugged her by poisoning a
box of chocolates."

Laura shot a quick look in Darby's direction. "My God, if he's
gotten to that point-where he would actually have planned this
whole thing out-he's worse than I ever could have imagined."