by J. W. Lucas
“So that’s where you get it from, huh?”
“What’s that?”
“Always thinking of others.”
“It’s not that bad. Hey! I just had a thought why don’t you go through the mail and see if there’s anything in there that I should look at?”
“Oh Daryl, I’d feel funny looking at your personal business.”
“Please, you have a degree in finance, I don’t. Maybe I have been too trusting. Please, it would help me a lot for you to look at things.”
“All right, if you think it will help you.”
“It will and thank you. If you need anything just holler.”
“I will as long as you promise that in this big house you’ll answer by the third echo!” she said with a laugh as she headed to the kitchen with our plates.
I walked down the stairs from the deck and thought I would walk around the yard to see how the gardens looked. I heard my phone beep and felt it vibrate. I looked at the screen and saw “Chief. “Now what?” I thought as I answered.
“Daryl, not interrupting dinner, am I?”
“No, we just finished. What’s up?”
“We?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m home in Stockbridge. A friend of mine is spending the weekend with me.”
“Good, you’re relaxing; I’ve been worried about you. You say that you’re in Stockbridge? That’s perfect.”
“What do you mean?”
“I had a crazy busy day at the office today. We couldn’t talk last night, but remember when I said that Washington was very interested in your Vermont case?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, late this afternoon I had a call from one of the Assistant US attorneys in Vermont. Apparently, their office received a long letter alleging widespread corruption in that Sheriff’s Department you’re looking into. The letter accused them of murdering that singer girl you told me about, drug dealing, arms dealing, supporting some off the wall militia group,” he explained.
“Yeah, that sounds like the same letter that the County Exec told you about. He gave me a copy,” I answered.
“Well speaking of him, the attorney told me about one of the cops going on a rampage up there this morning and he was killed by the Sheriff’s men. What the hell is going on up there Daryl?”
“Yeah, a TV station up there had a live broadcast as it was going down and I watched it. Something doesn’t look right to me boss.”
“Well, apparently that Donnelly guy made some statements on TV that sounded like a campaign speech,” he said.
“Yeah, I watched him. He’sthink he’s trying to play me, Boss.”
“Daryl, Maggie and I are actually heading down to Kent, Connecticut tomorrow for her niece’s wedding. It’s an evening ceremony and get this, outdoors at some kind of rest area from the Appalachian Trail!”
“The crazy girl and her fiancée have been hiking it from Georgia on up North. Anyway, Kent is on Route7 and it doesn’t look too far from Stockbridge. Maybe we can meet somewhere and talk when I get down near you. I have to stop anyway before we get there; Maggie still is a little uncomfortable on long car rides.”
“How is Maggie doing?”
“Pretty good now, thanks for asking. She’s finished with the radiation treatments and doesn’t need more chemo. The last scan they did looks like they caught the cancer early. Thank God, she didn’t need a mastectomy. The poor girl has been so weak the past few months, I was afraid I was going to lose her.”
“Well, that’s good news, please give her my regards. I know Kent well; it’s a little more than an hour south of here. It’s nice, kind of like a mini-Stockbridge. Where are you staying down there?”
“Something drum, Fiddle & Drum?”
“Oh, Fife and Drum,” I corrected him “Nice place, great food.”
“That’s it!” he said. “Christ, I hope those kids take a bath or shower before the ceremony.”
“I’m sure it will be nice. Why don’t you stop at my place on the way down, we can talk, and Maggie can rest for a while.”
“You know, that might work. I told the Vermont attorney I would follow up with him Monday morning.”
“OK,” I said, sounds great. Give me a few minutes and I’ll text you the directions to my place from the center of Stockbridge. It’s not hard to find.”
“OK, thanks, see you tomorrow a little before noon.”
“Daryl? Daryl?” I heard Mandy call from the deck.” Where are you?”
“I’m down here in the yard,” I called out.
“What are you doing? Are you alright?”
“I’m OK, just looking at the gardens. I had a phone call, business. Nothing to worry about.”
She came down the stairs and took my hand. “The flowers are beautiful. Can I pick some for the kitchen?”
I must have given her a look because she said,” I mean I’m going to pick some flowers for the kitchen!”
I smiled and said,” Mandy, like I said, relax, be yourself, you can do anything you want.”
“You may live to regret that Sir!” she said with a laugh. “I have a question.”
“Fire away”
“What is the Stonegarden Foundation?”
“It’s a charitable fund that I asked my lawyer to look into setting up for me. I’ve made some donations over the past few months and he suggested that I consider a Foundation for tax purposes.”
“Hmmmm,” she said. “That explains it. Do you know that about a month ago your lawyer sent you some legal papers to set one up? They need your signature and you didn’t even open the envelope.”
“No, I guess I missed that.”
“Do you know there’s a difference between Foundations and charitable trusts?
“No, is there one?”
“Yeah! My Master’s thesis is about that difference! Didn’t your lawyer explain that to you?
“Not really, or he may have, but I probably wasn’t listening,” I said sheepishly.
“Daryl Richardson, I swear, sometimes you’re like a little boy, but I love you anyway,” as she kissed me on the cheek.
“C’mon, little boy, let’s pick some flowers” as she took my hand. “Do you have a knife on you?”
“No, but I can cut them with the edge of a key,” I said as I reached into my pocket.
“I can see that I have my work cut out with you Mr. Richardson,” she said turning her eyes to Heaven as she took my key ring and started her collection.
As she worked, I told her I had a call from Damian Costigan, and that he and his wife were going down to Connecticut for a wedding and would be stopping in around noon.
I mentioned that his wife Maggie had been undergoing treatments for breast cancer and was still a little weak. A break in their travel would help her get some rest.
She stopped working and looked up at me with a distant look in her eyes; she didn’t say anything and went back to her chores. I texted Damian with the directions to my house as I had promised him.
After a few minutes, she held up a nice mixed bouquet and said, “Let’s go inside. I have to put these in a vase and you can help.”
It took a little searching, but we found some vases in a high cabinet and I watched fascinated as she arranged the cuttings into a display. She stood back from her work and admired it. Placing the vase on the end of the island she said, “Now this looks like a home.”
I nodded my approval and told her I was going to take a shower.
She responded with, “OK,” and I saw her start moving the vase on the island. I guessed the positioning didn’t suit her artistic eye.
I went into the master bath, undressed, and stepped into the shower. It was brand new, and I hadn’t used it yet, it took me a minute or two to balance the temperature. After ten minutes I gave into my curiosity and moved the selector to the steam position and was amazed at how quickly the enclosure filled with a warm foggy haze. I must say, it felt good, like a sauna.
I didn’t hear the shower door open and wa
s startled when I turned and saw Mandy standing there in the mist.
“I read somewhere that we need to conserve our water resources,” she said softly. “I hope you don’t mind if we share the shower. She was beautiful, and as she stepped into me for a long kiss, I knew that she was the one.
Chapter Ten
“Hey sleepy head, it’s seven thirty in the morning! We survived our first night together! I love you Daryl Richardson,” she said as she rolled over and gave me a kiss.
“If we have company coming in a few hours I’d like to go to a store and pick some things up. Can you drive me? I saw a market in Stockbridge that looked pretty nice from the outside.”
“Why don’t you take my car?”
“Oh no, I’d be afraid to drive it.”
“Don’t be silly,” I said, but she insisted no.
“All right, but listen, I have another car in the garage, and you can take that.
“You what? How many cars do you have?”
“Two.”
“Oh, OK, are you sure?”
“Yup”, I said as I rolled over and hugged the pillow.
“I’m going to take a ten-minute shower, get dressed and put the coffee on. Do you want eggs for breakfast?”
“No, I’ll just have some toast and juice.”
She got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. Looking at her, I was the luckiest man on earth.
I got up, put on my jeans and a clean tee shirt, and found the second car keys in my dresser drawer. I would take my shower and shave while she was gone.
I went out to the garage, punched in the door code and pulled the covering tarp from the car. Mandy was going to be surprised.
Six months earlier I had bought a new Camaro LT, dark silver with
a white interior. I thought it was beautiful until a few months later when I saw the Challenger on a lot. I think the Camaro had less than five thousand miles on it when I parked it.
We had our quick breakfast, Mandy grabbed her purse, and I handed her the keys. I walked her out to the driveway, and she stopped dead in her tracks.
“Oh my God! Daryl, I can’t take that, it’s too gorgeous!”
“Yeah, it’s pretty, it’s an automatic, and you should be okay. Have your phone in case you get lost?”
“Yes, and I won’t get lost! I paid attention as you drove from town to here.”
I pulled out my wallet, but she waved me off. “No, I have money.”
I gave her some cash anyway despite her protests. “In case you need bail money.”
I went inside, showered, shaved and found a nice pullover. I went out to the kitchen and saw that Mandy had sorted out my mail, separate stacks for the lawyers and accountants. I noticed a stack that she had labeled “investments” with a sticky note. She sure was more organized than I was.
I was sitting on the deck drinking a coffee and reading the news on-line when I heard her coming through the kitchen door. I got up and asked if she needed help, she said she was fine. I asked how she liked the car; she said it drove like a dream and that a couple of teenage guys in the market lot were checking her out.
“Daryl, why does that car have Connecticut license plates?
“Because that’s where it’s registered.”
“But you live in Massachusetts.”
“Yes, but I own a condo in Connecticut. I’ve owned it for a long time and used to live there. When I moved up to Boston, I rented it out. I still maintain that as an address and will change the plates over when they expire.”
“Let me get this straight. You own three houses and have two cars. Any other surprises for me?”
“Yes, I’d like to take you to dinner tonight at the Red Lion.”
“Oh boy Red Lion!” she whispered” Yeah!!”
She put the groceries away and said she was going to change before our guests arrived. A little before noon I heard a car pull into the drive and went to the front door as Damien and Maggie were getting out of their car. I stepped out and Damien spoke first.
“So, this is how the rich and famous live? It’s beautiful man!”
“Hi Maggie,” I said as I kissed her on the cheek and gave her a gentle hug. “Daryl, your place is magnificent, and I love all the flowers and the roses,” she said as I brought them inside.
Mandy was standing in the kitchen; she had changed into a peach colored long summer dress and looked like something out of a fashion magazine. I introduced the Costigans, and Mandy asked Maggie if she would like to see the rest of the house. “I’d love to,” she said without a moment’s hesitation. As they walked toward the master, Damian touched my arm and whispered, “Man, she is absolutely gorgeous. Where did you find her?”
“In a bar.”
“What?” He exclaimed. I didn’t answer, just nodded. I asked if he wanted a drink, he said coffee was fine.
I drew up two in the Keurig, we fixed our own and I ushered him into the family room. He sat down and took it all in.
“Man, you are living large. Why the hell would you want to leave all of this and do the kind of work we do?” I just shrugged my shoulders.
“So, tell me, what the hell is going on in Ethan Falls?”
It took about ten minutes, but I briefed him on my conversation with the County Attorney and gave him my take on his political largess. I told him about the incident with Carpa and his partner Manning at the hospital and the troubling report of the surgeon. I summed it up by saying, “I don’t think that they’ve done any investigations at all. I think that Savage screwing up the other night in the bar fight gave them the perfect out. He was a drunk, but I don’t think he was a murderer. They’re going to frame him now that he’s dead.”
“Well, the letter does suggest a cop killed the girl. Do you believe that?”
“Yes, and I think that her murder is the keystone that will cause everything else to collapse. You said that I should focus on the Sheriffs, cut off the head of the snake you said, and I think you were spot on. Getting the evidence to identify Susan’s murderer will unravel the whole thing. That’s where I need to focus.”
He was silent for a few moments. “Okay, I get it.”
“I need a favor Boss, some paper trail research.”
“We have a new group of interns that just came into the office. All of them have law degrees but no experience. This would be good training for them. What do you need?”
“See if they can do some research on Freedom Bail Services. Officers, key personnel, whether they’re a corporation. Trace it all the way down if they find that it’s a subsidiary. Also, what insurance companies are they bond agents for?”
“And, in their spare time, see if they can research who owns Donnelly’s office building in North Bellington. It seems odd to me that he’s the exec in Abbot County but doesn’t maintain an office there.
“OK, but where does the bail bond company fit it?”
“I’m not sure, just a hunch. I heard a story that they have the market cornered in Abbot County and they may be violating the extortionate extension of credit statute. If they did, and it’s an out-of-state company that they bond for that could be a Federal case. That could justify our involvement and get our foot in the door.” That could be the edge I need to solve the murder case. Once I have that, it will lead to who shot Judge Moran.”
“OK, that’s the plan, but I didn’t write anything down. You’ll have to write it up and send me an email.”
“You’ll have it Sunday night”
“Great, now tell me about Mandy,” he said, switching subjects.
I laughed and said, “She has a degree in finance from Bennington College and is finishing up her MBA. She was the bartender that Deputy Savage pulled a gun on.”
“Daryl, she is absolutely beautiful. You’re a lucky man and knowing you as I do I think that you could use a money manager!”
“There is truth in that,” I agreed.
The women came into the room and Maggie told me that she was in awe of everything. I thanked h
er, and Mandy excused herself to get some refreshments for us to have on the deck.
“Need any help?” I asked as she turned to leave.
“No, all set, thank you,” she answered cheerfully.
“Daryl, she is absolutely stunning, and such a sweetheart,” said Maggie.” If you let this girl get away from you, you’re a very foolish man.”
In a few minutes, Mandy summoned us to the deck where she had spread out some delicious looking hors d’oeuvres, pastries and lemonade and iced tea. We sat and talked for a couple hours, and I cringed a few times when Damian spoke of some of my exploits working for him. After a while, we were all talked out, and at two pm we bid them goodbye.
“Well, how did I do?” Mandy asked after they left.
“You were perfect,” I answered, and kissed her on the cheek.
“Well thank you, kind Sir, but all of this company tired me out. I think we need a nap before we go out for dinner.” She reached out and took my hand and led me to the bedroom. We didn’t nap.
`
Chapter Eleven
We decided on an early dinner and left the house a little before six. Mandy had on a dark blue long summer dress and sandals, looking every bit the country girl from Vermont. I obviously didn’t have her sartorial finesse, with my tan khakis and a white-short sleeve. She does have her work cut out with me, I thought.
The restaurant was crowded, but our wait for a table in the main dining room was short. After we were seated, I looked around and it struck me that I often visited the Red Lion on my weekend’s home, but rarely had eaten here. I always got sidetracked by Widow Binghman’s Tavern, and a fine establishment it is!
Mandy ordered Chablis, and I my old reliable VO and coke. The menu had many tempting selections; she opted for the gazpacho appetizer and the grilled organic salmon. I decided that prime rib was my preference and passed on an appetizer as they were mostly seafood. I’m deathly allergic to shellfish, and never really acquired a taste for fish in general. I figured that lobsters and fish shared the same ocean, thus my health precautions were based on scientific fact, not paranoia.