“What he’s neglecting to tell you is the property in question is where my parents were married,” Michael said through gritted teeth. “I’d made a promise to restore it in their memory.”
“They were gone, Michael. What difference did it make?”
“You didn’t get it then, and you still don’t. Some places are about people’s lives and the memories they bring. This place was one of those.” His voice increased in volume. “I went to take one last look at the building, not realizing your wrecking crew had already started demolishing it.” His voice seethed. “It wasn’t just a building, it was a piece of history—personal and public—something that couldn’t be replaced. What I saw ripped me apart.”
That was probably what he’d like to do to his ex-partner.
“The people I help have a right to live a normal life whenever they can.” Johnson’s cool demeanor was gone. “They count, too.”
“We could’ve found you another place,” Corrigan countered.
Their voices escalated.
“Michael, I’d been looking for a long time. It was my dream, and I saw a chance to make it happen.”
There it was. This was what caused the rift. Opposing ideologies colliding and crushing a close friendship.
Michael stood and leaned toward Johnson. “You could’ve—”
Deputy Sheriff Stanton cut in. “Gentlemen, that covers the past. What brought you here, Mr. Johnson?”
Corrigan sat.
“A while back, I heard this place was for sale. After doing some research, I felt it would be perfect for one of my resorts, only I needed more land than what came with this property. My staff found that most of the adjacent land was owned by the Bernal Corporation in San Francisco. I got in touch with the CEO. He wasn’t interested in selling . . . had some grand plan to build a posh community.” Johnson shook his head. “The guy’s a novice. It turns out he’s never built anything like that before. After I pointed out a few things he’d have to do and how much it would cost, he was more amenable to selling.”
Corrigan interrupted him. “You know I won’t sell anything to you.”
Johnson didn’t acknowledge him. “However, there were a couple more lots needed to make the deal work, so I didn’t purchase it. You stepped in and bought the place. When you put it on the market, the CEO contacted me to let me know he’d acquired the additional properties.” He stared at Michael. “Yes, I know you won’t sell me anything. That’s why I asked this guy to buy it and then transfer it to me.”
“At one time, you had integrity. It seems that’s gone now.”
Johnson looked away.
Deputy Stanton said, “Did you meet Sylvia Porter during your stay here?”
“No. I kept to myself as much as possible. I didn’t want to be recognized.”
“Mrs. Porter’s dead,” Deputy Stanton said. “Murdered.”
Johnson looked at the deputy. “Do you think I had something to do with her death?”
“We’re questioning anyone staying here at the time Mrs. Porter was here. Where were you Thursday between the hours of eleven thirty and twelve forty-five?”
“Doing paperwork for the sale.”
“Was anyone with you?”
“No.”
“What about this morning between ten and ten thirty?”
Interesting. Stanton was looking for a connection between the attack on me and the murder.
“More of the same. The deal was supposed to close tomorrow.”
“Why did you trespass?”
“I knew Michael was at a conference. It was an opportunity for me to see the place. I had a staff member book a room and cancel at the last minute so I could step in.”
Michael spoke. “Robert, it’s possible that a multimillion-dollar deal like this one could be the impetus for someone to commit murder. It’s certainly happened to others in similar situations. One of my employees lost her life. Who had a stake in this sale?”
“The CEO, Mark Benton, and his sister. He’d get the money. She’d been wanting to try her hand at running a hotel or B and B. I cut them a good deal on the mansion. I’d still own it, but they had a long-term lease for a song. I wanted the property behind it.”
“Is there anything you can think of that might connect what you were doing to Mrs. Porter being killed if the deal didn’t go through?” Stanton asked.
“Not really. As I said, I had to talk the CEO into selling. He’d just go back to his original plans. His sister wouldn’t have any trouble finding another place to run. People burn out in that business.”
Deputy Stanton closed his notebook. “If you think of anything, let me know . . . and keep us informed as to your whereabouts.”
Johnson stood and began pacing. From his tasseled cordovan leather loafers to the soft luster of the pale yellow blazer, the high-tech resort owner reflected the clientele he catered to. He stopped in front of Corrigan.
“Michael, you don’t want the place, and I do. I want it very badly. The mansion would stay intact. If you sell it to someone else, it might end up being sold again and destroyed, like what almost happened before you purchased it. Reconsider.”
“Not now. Not ever.” Corrigan put his hands on the table, fingers spread. “No deal, Robert.”
“If it means anything, Michael, I regret the decision I made about using the property you cared so much about for my first resort.”
Corrigan stood and strode out of the room, with me right behind him.
He stopped in the hallway. “Do you know who’s at your inn right now?”
“The Silver Sentinels invited me to join them there for dinner. They should be there by now.”
“Good. I’ll follow you back to the inn, and Detective Rodriguez will join you later.”
My keys were in my purse, which was still in the cupboard. We’d left so suddenly earlier, I hadn’t retrieved it. “I need to get my things from the kitchen.”
Corrigan glanced down the hallway. The kitchen door was in sight. “Okay. I’ll wait here for you.” He pulled out his phone.
Retrieving my purse, I decided to peek into the passageway and see if the police were there and whether or not they’d discovered anything. The door to the hidden hallway was closed. I opened it and saw no sign of anyone. They must’ve finished for now.
I started to close the door. A low moan came from the dark. I froze. A burst of adrenaline shot through me and the hair on my arms stood up. I felt rooted in place. Had my ghostly acquaintances of yesterday not been a figment of my imagination? If I looked, would I see a spectral figure?
Another moan. My breath came fast. Trembling, I opened my purse and took out my flashlight. I paused before turning it on. What was I going to see? I clenched my teeth and turned on the light.
I moved the beam slowly up the passageway. A few feet in, my light fell on the bottoms of a pair of shoes. I stepped into the hallway and cast the light on the prone figure.
Margaret Hensley . . . blood trickling down the side of her face.
Chapter 24
I knelt beside her and touched her arm. Her skin felt clammy. “Margaret, can you hear me?”
She moaned again but didn’t open her eyes.
I briefly examined her wound—it didn’t look deep, but there was a lot of blood. I got up, stepped out of the passageway, and punched in 911 on my phone while yelling, “Michael!”
He came running into the room. I gestured with my hand toward the passageway and handed him my flashlight as I put my phone to my ear.
“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”
“A woman’s been injured. She has a gash on the side of her head and is unconscious. She may have been attacked.”
“What is your location?”
“Redwood Heights Mansion in Redwood Cove. The address is one hundred Redwood Drive. We’re in the back of the building.”
“Will you be able to be reached at this number?”
“Yes.”
“An ambulance and the police wil
l be dispatched.”
Ending the call, I speed-dialed Scott.
“Hi, Kelly, what’s up?”
“Margaret’s been hurt. I don’t think it was an accident. We’re at the entrance to the passageway.”
“I’m on my way. The detectives said they’d be working in the interview room. I’ll swing by and get them.”
I scanned the walls for another flashlight. Extras were usually kept easily accessible in case of power failures. I found one by the door to the kitchen. It was large and could also be used as a lantern. Joining Corrigan, I sat the flashlight on end, casting a pool of light on the scene.
Margaret’s pale face contrasted sharply with the bright red blood trickling down her cheek; the dried blood on the side of her head was a darker hue. I’d gotten a good look at the area earlier, but now I examined it more closely. She was on her back, a cut next to her eye, matted blood extending into her hairline. If she’d tripped and fallen, I’d expect to see a lump on her temple, maybe a cut as well, but not a gash. How had that gotten there? I raised the lantern, illuminating a wider area, and saw nothing that might have caused the wound. Whatever had been used wasn’t here. Someone had taken it with them, or she’d been attacked someplace else and brought here.
Hensley had stopped moving or making any sounds.
Corrigan checked her wrist. “I feel a pulse, but it’s faint.”
“Michael, I think she was struck with something.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
Detectives Nelson and Rodriguez stepped into the passageway. Scott remained at the doorway.
“Scott,” Corrigan said, “bring a couple of blankets.”
“Got it,” he replied and left.
Corrigan and I stood, got out of the detectives’ way, and went to the laundry room.
We looked at each other in the momentary lull.
“Michael . . .” I shook my head. “Whatever is this madness about?”
“I wish I knew.” His ruddy complexion was redder than usual. “Better yet, I wish I could get my hands on whoever is behind it.”
Scott came back with blankets, and Corrigan took them into the passageway. I told Scott what we’d seen and what we suspected. A siren wailed in the distance.
Scott put his arm around my shoulders and gave me a gentle hug. “More reason than ever for you to be careful. Michael told me about his plans and what he wants you to do. Promise you’ll always have someone you can count on nearby until this is over.”
“Promise,” I replied. No more buts like the ones in my earlier conversation. The attack on me and then Hensley in the same day could mean the murderer was getting more desperate.
The siren grew louder, and Scott stepped out of the door to wave them over. The wailing stopped and two paramedics rushed in.
“She’s in there,” I said, pointing to the hallway.
They went in and Corrigan came out. “I’m getting my keys so I can follow them to the hospital. Scott, I want you to escort Kelly to the B and B.”
“Shall do.”
An EMT ran by and returned with a gurney. A few minutes later, he and the other one passed by us with Margaret, and shortly thereafter the siren started up again.
Detective Rodriguez emerged, his mouth set in a firm line, corners turned downward. He questioned me about finding Margaret, and I told him what had happened.
“Did you remove anything from the scene?”
“No.”
“Did you see anyone in here or nearby?”
“No.” I paused. “Do you think it was an accident?” I hoped he’d say yes, but I didn’t hold my breath.
“We can’t tell for sure,” Detective Rodriguez answered. “Unlikely, though, Ms. Jackson. Mr. Corrigan has asked me to spend the night at your inn for protection purposes. I’ll be over later.”
“All right. Scott’s going to follow me there now.”
The detective nodded and went back in the passageway. Picking up my purse, I went with Scott out the back door to where our vehicles were parked. I got in my truck and started home, with Scott behind me in the mansion’s Cadillac. When we got there, we went up the back steps together. Gazing through the window, I saw Helen in the kitchen and Stevie walking by with a cup in his hand. I knew from the gold Mercedes in the parking lot the Silver Sentinels had arrived.
“I’m going to join Corrigan at the hospital,” Scott said. “Call if you need anything . . . and be careful.”
“I will.”
He gazed at me for a few moments, then started down the steps. Entering the multipurpose room, I found it alive with activity. Tommy was practicing his presentation to an enthralled audience of three dogs, Allie, and Stevie, who’d turned his chair around and rested his arms on the back of it.
Tommy pointed to a picture on his trifold board. “This is a gray whale.” Three dog tails pounded the floor. “And this is a tube worm, one of the many things they eat.” More dog claps. Allie and Stevie nodded encouragingly.
Helen was putting spoonfuls of dough on a cookie sheet. “Hi, Kelly.” She stopped, washed her hands, and came over to me. “Are you okay?” she whispered. “Mr. Corrigan asked me to set up a room for you and one for a detective, but he didn’t tell me why.”
“Let’s go in the study,” I said.
As we walked down the hallway, Helen said, “I put the two of you in the rooms at the head of the stairs.”
I closed the door. “I’m okay. There was an incident, and it involves the police. They’ve asked me not to talk about it for now.” I decided not to mention what happened to Hensley. It would only make Helen worry more.
“I’ll sure be glad when this is over,” Helen said.
“That makes two of us.” I changed the subject as we headed back. “Tommy has an enthusiastic audience.”
Helen smiled. “Yes. I’m going to listen to him when he feels he’s got it perfected.”
We entered the workroom.
“The Silver Sentinels are in the conference room,” Helen said. “They told me you are joining them for dinner.”
“Yes. A chance to plan our next steps.”
Helen went back to her cookies just as Daniel entered with a large pizza box.
“Oh, boy! Pizza!” Tommy’s presentation came to an abrupt end.
I left them to their dinner and went to see the Sentinels. The room was filled with a delicious aroma.
Gertie stood at a large pot, ladling hot steaming soup into a bowl. “Hi, Kelly. Glad you could join us. Come over and get some minestrone soup. I made it with vegetables from my garden. I thought something healthy was in order after all the rich food we ate today.”
The others greeted me as they got their plates and soup and settled at the table. A basket of homemade wheat bread was in the center.
Joining them, I took the proffered bowl. “Smells wonderful, Gertie.”
Green beans, carrots, and numerous other vegetables mixed in with pasta shells and kidney beans swirled as I stirred the soup. I took a sip and found the ingredients provided a great combination of flavors in the rich broth.
Taking another spoonful, I said, “And it tastes as good as it smells.”
Mary presented a pie, rounding out the meal. “I decided on apple so we could be sure to have our fruit for the day.”
The Professor put a slice of bread on his plate. “Anything new in the investigation, Kelly?”
I told them what had happened and what I knew about Hensley and Robert Johnson, alias Robert James, but kept my word to Deputy Sheriff Stanton about not mentioning what had happened to me. I didn’t see any way they could help with that, and it would only upset them.
“Let’s review what we have so far,” I suggested. “We’re proceeding on the theory the attack on Gertie and Sylvia’s murder are connected because of the hatpins from the mansion, and we are searching for someone from Redwood Heights. Based on the size of the person, as best Gertie and Stevie could tell, we had five suspects: Hensley, Lily Wilson, Tina Smith, J
erry Gershwin, and Robert James.”
Rudy listed the names on a chart.
“I’d dropped Jerry off because he had an alibi, then he lost it, now he’s got his alibi back.” I filled them in and received some chuckles over his Meat King title. “We can cross him off the list.”
The Professor said, “I believe Hensley should be eliminated as well. It’s highly unlikely there’s more than one person behind this. I think we should go with what’s most feasible first. If we don’t get our answers there, we can start on a new round of suspects.”
Rudy drew a red line through Hensley’s name.
Gertie turned down the hot plate the soup rested on and joined us at the table. “Since Hensley’s was the most recent incident, why don’t we start there with our next steps?”
Mary was cutting her pie. “Oh, good idea. We could find out when was the last time someone saw her.”
“I saw lady when we go see Kelly at the event,” Ivan volunteered.
Rudy started a new chart labeled timeline. “That was about two thirty.”
“I don’t remember when I last saw her,” I said. “The afternoon’s a blur. But maybe some of the others working there will.”
The Professor helped himself to a piece of pie. “Two of the suspects were working there—Lily and Tina. We could ask what people remembered about their whereabouts during the event, as well as Margaret Hensley’s.”
“Phil and Andy might wonder why we are asking about those two. The others already know about our suspect list. I think it’s time we tell them what we know and what we’re planning,” I said. “It might put a different light on what they think to tell us.”
The Sentinels nodded agreement.
“We’ll be interviewing Tina and Lily,” Rudy said, “as part of our gathering information about the manager. That might give us some clues as to what they were doing.”
“I agree,” I said. “But I believe you should continue to work in pairs.”
Murder at the Mansion Page 17