A House to Die For (A Darby Farr Mystery) (33 page)

The phone rang only once before she recognized his melodic
voice on the other end.

"Darby! I was hoping it was you ... have you sold the lovely
Fairview yet?"

Quickly Darby filled him in on the events of the past few days,
concluding with the good news she'd received via courier that
morning.

"We're scheduled to close on Saturday afternoon," she said,
"with Aunt Jane's service in the morning. I'm changing my flights
to Monday. I didn't plan on staying here so long, ET, but I've got to
see this through."

ET made a sympathetic noise. "I understand completely. How
about the sister of Mark Trimble-Lucy?-is she cleared of murder charges?"

"Yes, thank goodness." Darby sighed. "She's free, and the man
who killed Emerson Phipps is no longer a threat to anyone. Last
night he committed suicide."

"Quite a lot happening on such a small island. The service for
your aunt can now proceed without the shadow of an unsolved
murder, correct?"

"I hadn't thought about it that way, but you're right. I guess it
is finally time to put the murder at Fairview in the past and focus
on my final duty here." She paused. "Enough about Maine. What's
going on at the office?"

ET told Darby that several of her listings were seeing increased
activity, and that he expected an offer on at least one home by the
weekend. "I have signed up a new client, a couple from London,
and they are scheduled to meet with you next week. And now are
you ready? I've saved the best piece of news for last," he teased.

"I could use some good news, ET. Tell me it's the Costa Brava
property?"

"It's the Costa Brava property, all right. That buyer who was
nosing around early in the month has decided to put in a fullprice offer. The sellers are thrilled and it looks like this is one mansion that will definitely be sold."

"Fantastic. I really should go away more often."

After saying goodbye, Darby decided on impulse to try Peyton
Mayerson's cell phone again. If she's not on the island, then where
is she? She needs to know that Lucy and Mark have signed that purchase and sale ...

Darby searched through her contacts and found Peyton's
number. Soon she heard the recorded voice of Peyton asking her
to leave a message, which she did, along with her own cell phone
number. Moments later, to her amazement, her phone rang.

Darby expected the caller to be Peyton Mayerson; instead, it
was a man's voice who asked for her.

"Ms. Farr? We've been trying to reach you at your aunt's home"

"Who is this?"

"I'm sorry-this is Special Agent Edward Landis, FBI."

"FBI? What's this about?"

"It's a long story, one that's best explained off island. We'd like
to pick you up, Ms. Farr. To talk."

"Pick me up?"

"We have a helicopter waiting at a private airstrip on the island.
Do you know the Merewether estate?"

Darby was dumbfounded but still able to speak. "Yes. I know
it.

"You can leave your vehicle on the property. Agents Cooper and
Cardazzo are waiting for you there. Bring an overnight bag-we've
reserved a hotel room at the Ritz Carlton in Boston for you."

"Just what is this about?"

"I really can't explain over the phone. My agents can come and
get you at your office, or you can meet them here. Either way, we
need your cooperation."

"How do I know this is legitimate?"

"Good question. The agents will have their credentials and you
can verify them on site."

Darby said she would arrive at the Merewether estate in ten
minutes. She hung up, the strange conversation replaying in her head. Had the FBI contacted her because of her message to Peyton
Mayerson?

Tina opened the office door, her hands full of containers. In
addition to the beverages she'd purchased at the store, she'd gone
to the Cafe and bought a few sandwiches.

"Are you as hungry as me?" asked Tina. "Hope so." She looked
at Darby and gave a look of concern. "You okay?"

"Well, I thought I was fine-that is, until that last phone
call. You're not going to believe this, but I'm on my way to the
Merewether estate where a helicopter is waiting to take me to an
FBI meeting in Boston."

"No way!" said Tina. "What in the world is that about?"

"I don't know, and the agent wouldn't say over the phone. If I
had to guess, I'd say it has to do with Peyton Mayerson."

"Should I work on those closing documents?"

"Absolutely. Until we know otherwise, the sale of Fairview is
on. And until we know why I'm headed to Boston, please don't say
anything about this trip. No sense in getting Mark or Lucy upset
when we don't have a clue what's happening."

"Agreed"

Tina placed the sandwiches on a nearby desk and snapped her
fingers. "I nearly forgot-the Cafe owner said she's all set with the
food for the memorial service." She paused. "You will be back from
Boston, right?"

Darby nodded. "I'm staying over tonight, but I'll be back tomorrow. Good thing we made the service for Saturday and not
Friday." She thought a moment. "I'm staying at the Ritz Carlton
if you need me, although I don't have my room number" She frowned. "What about Helen Near? Have you heard when she's arriving?"

"Tomorrow. Don't worry, I'll send Donny to Portland to get her
if she needs transportation." Tina lowered her voice. "Do you think
this means that Peyton Mayerson is a genuine crook? I can't say I'd
be surprised... " She reached for a sandwich, tore off the wrapping and bit into it. Glancing back at Darby while she chewed, she
made a sheepish face. "Sorry, but I'm starving." She reached for the
other sandwich and thrust it at Darby. "Do me a favor and bring
this one with you. You're turning into a skeleton!"

The Merewether estate was on the opposite end of the island from
Fairview and was not, in Darby's estimation, as impressive a structure. Built in the same time period but "renovated" in the 1950s,
the building sported several ungainly additions that obscured its
once graceful lines. A cedar playset in the yard along with a sandbox made Darby pause. Perhaps Merewether wasn't beautiful, but
it looked well-loved.

Darby drove the truck to the rear of the property where a black
car and two dark-suited men wearing sunglasses were waiting. A
helicopter waited on the lawn behind them. Darby parked and
walked toward the car. The men introduced themselves as Special
Agents Cooper and Cardazzo and each showed her a wallet-sized
leather case that held their badges.

Darby scrutinized the badges. They certainly looked authentic,
with the imposing Federal Bureau of Investigation insignia. Nevertheless, she was not about to get in a helicopter with two strange
men just because their identification looked plausible.

"I need more proof, fellows."

The men glanced at each other and produced their FBI identification badges. Darby scrutinized the photos and handed them
back. "I'm still not going," she said.

The agent called Cardazzo shuffled his feet impatiently and
frowned. Agent Cooper looked more sympathetic.

"Here," he offered, handing her his cell phone. "This is the
number of the bureau. Give them our credential numbers." Darby
took the phone and called. Soon the voice on the other end verified that George Cooper and David Cardazzo were indeed FBI
Special Agents.

Darby frowned. She called directory assistance for the bureau's
number and waited to connect. She then asked for the field office
location for the two agents. Moments later, she spoke with someone named Thomas Gray, who verified the agents' whereabouts on
Hurricane Harbor, Maine. Satisfied, Darby handed back the phone
and allowed the men to escort her to the helicopter.

The machine's pilot waved as Darby got in and signaled that
they were about to take off. Darby buckled her seat belt and felt a
sensation she'd experienced previously only in elevators or at carnival rides as the chopper lifted. She saw the Merewether estate
become smaller, and then watched in wonder as the coastline of
Hurricane Harbor came into view. She saw the cove where she'd
played as a girl, the Yacht Club, the harbor, and even the ferry
going across the water to Manatuck. Seen from above, all of it was
beautiful.

"Great view," she shouted to the agents. They remained quiet,
seemingly content to accompany Darby to her mysterious meeting and no more. When she tried to ask them about Peyton Mayerson,
they shook their heads politely and frowned.

"We're not at liberty to discuss anything," said Agent Cardazzo.
The helicopter's whirring blades made a deafening roar, and Darby
decided she wouldn't be able to hear him even if he did have information.

An hour later Darby spotted the winding Charles River and
Boston Harbor, flanked by tall silver skyscrapers. The chopper
circled by a building and landed smoothly on the rooftop. Agents
Cardazzo and Cooper helped Darby out, carrying her duffel bag,
and indicating that she should follow them into the building. The
quietness of the carpeted hallway was in stark contrast to the noise
of the helicopter, and when Darby spoke, her voice sounded very
loud.

"Where are we going?"

"Right here;" said one of the men. "We appreciate your patience,
Ms. Farr. We haven't been able to give you any information, but I
think you'll have all your questions answered by Agent Landis."

They opened the door of a conference room and Darby stepped
inside. Two men were talking quietly but both stopped as she entered. One of them came forward and introduced himself as Thomas
Gray from Washington, D.C. "We spoke only minutes ago. And I believe you already know Agent Landis?"

Darby was about to correct him when the other man turned
and faced her. He flashed a boyish grin and Darby recognized Peyton Mayerson's handsome Italian boyfriend.

"Signor Landi," she said. "Come sta?"

He gave a little bow. "Bene, grazie." He then added, without a
trace of an Italian accent, "At your service."

"So you're not... "

"Italian?" he asked. "Actually I do have some Sicilian blood
back there somewhere. I'm afraid I learned the language just for
this assignment. Luckily Peyton's mastery of Italian is even worse
than mine, so she never caught on to my obvious grammatical
mistakes." He shook Darby's hand. "Ed Landis, Special Agent, FBI.
My focus is Organized Crime."

He indicated a table with a pitcher of water, four glasses, and
four chairs. "Please, have a seat."

As soon as Darby was seated, Thomas Gray and Ed Landis settled themselves. Darby noticed that Agents Cooper and Cardazzo
had disappeared.

"Now that you know who I am, I'd like to get straight to the
point." He opened a file and showed Darby a photograph of a
woman with blonde hair who bore a striking resemblance to Peyton Mayerson.

"We've been following this woman-her real name is Penelope
Mancuzzi-for five years, but it wasn't until I went undercover and
met her in Rome that we made any inroads. She's the sister of a mob
boss in New Jersey but has made all her connections on the North
shore of Massachusetts, in the Charlestown area. Penelope -you
know her as Peyton-is in so deep that her life is in danger."

He paused, as if to let the seriousness of his words sink in.

"We know that Peyton believes she is buying a property in Maine
known as Fairview from your clients Mark and Lucy Trimble." Agent
Landis looked to Darby for clarification and she nodded.

Here we go again, she thought. Another Fairview deal out the
window ...

To Agent Landis, she said, "I was informed through her attorney that the closing would take place on Saturday. I imagine that's
not going to happen, given what you're telling me."

"On the contrary," said Ed Landis, shaking his head emphatically. "It's imperative that Peyton Mayerson purchases that property on Saturday and that she suspects nothing." Beside him, his
companion Thomas Gray concurred and cleared his throat.

"Basically, Ms. Farr, our whole case collapses if she does not
buy Fairview. But if you can keep this deal together, we'll not only
have her as the accomplice of these mob guys, but we'll get them on
money laundering and racketeering, possibly even counterfeiting."

Darby shook her head. "What about Mark and Lucy Trimble?
Will they in fact have sold the property, or is this one big sting
operation?"

Ed Landis gave a quick glance at the other man before speaking.

"Technically, the sale of Fairview will not have occurred, unless
you want the property seized by the federal government."

Darby exhaled. "You're saying that we should prepare all the
documents for Saturday's closing. Then we'll watch Peyton-excuse me, Penelope-and her cronies leave my office in handcuffs,
and then we'll head back to Fairview and put out another `For Sale'
sign? What about my time? What about my secretary's time? What
about my clients?"

Ed Landis paused and gave Darby an appraising glance. "Believe me, your clients are lucky this deal will not get a chance to go
through. In fact, the whole island is fortunate. Mancuzzi and her
so-called investors were planning to push through the bridge to the
mainland, which, as you know, would have made the Fairview property a prime commercial location."