A House to Die For (A Darby Farr Mystery) (31 page)

The boy blushed a deep crimson. "I didn't go in," he confessed.

"What? Why the heck not?" Donny strode toward the stairs,
hating to reprimand the boy, but unable to keep quiet. "That suite's
where the problem is, any fool can see that."

He turned to face the boy. "You can get me the key at least, can't
you?"

The boy nodded and raced to the registration desk. He returned a moment later and handed Donny the key.

"Is it vacant?"

The boy shook his head. "No. It's occupied by that lady with
the Italian man." He squirmed. "Usually they have their `Do Not
Disturb' sign out..."

Now Donny understood why the boy had chosen to avoid Peyton Mayerson's suite, water damage or not. The night manager,
barely old enough to shave, was petrified of catching the amorous
couple in an intimate act.

Donny held out his hand for the key. "Come with me. I may
need you to fetch something."

The boy and Donny ascended the stairs and found the suite.
Donny rapped hard on the door, asking "Ms. Mayerson? Ms. Mayerson?"

No noise came from the suite. Donny knocked again.

Hearing no answer, he took the square room key and used it to
open the door. It swung open and Donny said loudly, "Housekeeping ... we have an emergency."

Again there was no answer. Donny and the night manager crept
into the room. "Turn on the light," Donny told the boy, who did as
he was directed.

The brightness of the overhead fixture startled Donny, and it
took him a few moments to adjust to the light. The boy, meanwhile, had ventured toward the bedroom suite and returned with a
relieved look on his face.

"They're not here," he said, pointing toward the bedroom.

The room had not been cleaned, that much was for sure. Plates
with half eaten muffins were stacked on the coffee table, and newspapers and trash overflowed the waste basket. Glancing inside the
bedroom, Donny caught a whiff of perfume still lingering on the
air. He noted that the bed was a rumpled mess.

Donny moved toward the bathroom, searching for the source
of the leak. The gurgling of running water stopped him short.

The Jacuzzi tub, the focal point of the suite's bathroom, was
filled to overflowing, with water gushing out of the faucets and
splashing over the edges onto the pale pink tiles. One of those idiots
was going to take a bath. Then he looked in the tub.

There, stuck into the drain, was some sheer black material.
Women's lingerie, Donny thought. Not that he'd had much firsthand experience with it, but he'd seen those racy catalogues just
like all the other men on Hurricane Harbor. Donny turned off the
water and yanked the lacey fabric out of the drain. There were two pieces: the tiniest pair of ladies underpants Donny Pease had ever
seen, and the fanciest brassiere he'd ever dreamed existed.

"Most likely they were drying and fell into the tub," Donny surmised. "Ladies like to wash little things like this by hand, and then
hang them up to dry."

"But the water-why was it on?" stammered the boy.

"Who the heck knows. You just get your butt down to the utility room and bring the big shop vac up here lickety split. We gotta
get this floor dried up and quick."

The ringing of the cottage's telephone woke Darby Farr. It was
seven; far later than she usually slept, and she fumbled for the receiver and said hello.

"Darby, this is Chief Dupont. There's something you need to
know right away. The Manatuck police found Soames Pemberton
an hour ago. Looks like he threw himself in front of the old freight
train by the Industrial Park. He's dead."

Darby was too stunned to reply. She stood for a moment, absorbing the news that Soames Pemberton had ended his life in
such a horrific way.

"The train hardly runs anymore, except for a late-night delivery of gravel," continued the chief. "Soames obviously knew the
train's schedule."

"Did an engineer from the train find him?"

"No. The guy felt a bump and knew they'd hit something, but
he didn't stop the train. Apparently there are quite a few deer that
roam out that way, and he figured that's what they'd hit. Wasn't
the first time, I guess. He forgot all about it. Some guy going to work at the donut shop down the street saw the body and called it
in. That was about five-thirty A.M."

"What time does it look like he died?"

"We don't really have to fix the time of death, because we know
the train schedule. It's like clockwork at one A.M. every night."

"I heard the train myself around eight P.M.," said Darby. "I
guess that was an earlier run."

"Impossible. That train goes once a day."

Darby heard voices in the background and the chief's barked
command to someone. He cleared his throat. "The lab report on
Lucy's chocolates came back, too. You were right-they were laced
with heroin. The case against Soames Pemberton is still shaky at
this point, but I think it's safe to say your friend Lucy Trimble is in
the clear."

Darby breathed a sigh of relief, thanked the chief, and hung
up.

Hoping that she was already awake, she dialed Tina Ames'
number with trembling hands.

A stunned Tina listened as Darby relayed the information.
"Who would have thought Soames would do that? Toss himself in
front of a train?" She shuddered. "You think he was afraid of going
back to prison?"

"You knew him better than I did, Tina. He didn't seem suicidal
when he was chasing us around the warehouse, I know that."

"No" Tina paused. "On the one hand, I'm not sorry that he's
gone. Me and a whole lot of other people can breathe a big sigh
of relief. The guy was unhinged and getting worse all the time. He
was obviously lying his head off in that warehouse. Said he never
went near the Powderkeg ... Still, I'm going to remember the few good times we had together and say a little prayer for his soul." She
sighed and Darby imagined her cocking her head to one side as
she had done so many times before.

"So then it's over?" Tina asked. "Soames is dead, Lucy is in the
clear, and Peyton's going to get her dream house after all."

"I don't know about that," Darby said. "I'm headed over to the
office as soon as I take a shower. We haven't seen an amended purchase and sale from Peyton or her lawyer, so it's going to be tough
to have a closing today."

"I'm keeping my fingers crossed. I'm on my way to the office
now in case you need me to do anything special."

"I'll see you in a half an hour then." Darby was about to hang
up when she posed one more question. "Last night, after we escaped from the warehouse, did you hear a train go by?"

"A train? Hell no. The only thing I could hear was my heart
pounding away, reminding me I was lucky to be alive."

Darby made a pot of coffee before calling Miles Porter at the cottage. His phone rang several times, but Miles did not pick up.
Probably taking a shower, Darby thought, her cheeks growing hot
as she began to picture his muscular body. He'd asked to visit her
in Mission Beach. Maybe then we'll finally move beyond the little
pecks on the cheek, she thought. She imagined his reaction to her
little bungalow and smiled. He'd like the beach, and the little restaurants they could walk to together. Who knows, maybe he'll like
California enough to relocate ...

She poured a cup of coffee and the strong taste snapped her
out of her reverie. Enough daydreaming, she told herself sternly.
I've got work to do.

Darby drove straight to Near & Farr, where Tina was waiting with
an envelope in hand and a triumphant smile on her face. "A courier delivered it," she explained. "It's from Peyton's lawyer. Do you
think it's the contract for Fairview?"

Quickly Darby tore open the envelope and surveyed the contents. Sure enough, it was an offer to purchase Fairview at the
original price, with a closing date of Saturday. Planning board approval of zoning was to be handled by the buyer once she owned
the property. Darby smiled and nodded.

"Hallelujah!" shouted Tina. "That's a good way to start a Thursday, or any day, for that matter."

"You're not kidding. I'm off to get Mark and Lucy to sign this.
Do you think they know about Soames' death?"

"It's the top story on the news, so I don't know how you'd miss
it. That and a big storm headed up the coast tomorrow. I hope
Helen Near doesn't have any problems with her flight."

Darby headed out the office door and noticed her denim jacket
hanging on a hook.

"Where'd that come from?"

"You left it in the truck yesterday," Tina said. "I think your
phone might be in one of the pockets."

Darby reached in and pulled out her cell phone. The battery
was dead but she was relieved nonetheless. "I'm glad to have that
off my mind. Thanks, Tina."

"Don't mention it. Hey, Donny called this morning with some
interesting news. Looks like Peyton's left the island and her boyfriend, the Italian guy? He's gone missing."

"What do you mean?"

"Donny had to go to the inn last night to fix something in their
room. He said it looked like Peyton left the hotel in a hurry with
most of her things, but Emilio just plain left. All his clothes are still
in the room, but no sign of him."

"Strange. This offer from Peyton is dated yesterday, so she must
have been available to her lawyer when he drew it up." She thought
a moment more. "I'll try giving Peyton Mayerson a call, just to let
her know we're on track for Saturday. In the meantime, keep me
posted."

Darby drove Thelma over to the dock where the Lucy T was tied
up. With the new Fairview offer in hand, she knocked on the side
of the boat, listening for Mark Trimble. Hearing nothing, she
climbed aboard and looked below deck. The cockpit was closed
and the vessel seemed empty.

"Dammit," she swore softly. A blonde head poked from the
neighboring vessel and looked around curiously.

"Darby? I thought that sounded like you." Laura Gefferelli
emerged from the bottom of What's in a Name with a broad smile.
"It's nice to see you down here. Please, come aboard and see my
little piece of heaven."