Neal momentarily found that he couldn’t speak. His heart began to race, and he felt a strange chill throughout his body. For what seemed like a long time, but was probably only a few seconds, he was silent. “Dr. Smith are you there? Are you quite all right?” the voice continued. Neal directed the car into the parking lot of a convenience store and cut the engine.
“Sorry, I was driving and wanted to pull off the road, Mr. Simon I presume?” he was surprised at how calm he sounded. He certainly didn’t feel that way.
“Yes, Mark Simon, and I need to talk to you right away. Like I said, I can arrange for your ring to be returned to you, but first we need to talk. There are certain details to work out.”
Neal realized that this was dangerous territory. He did want the ring back for Lin, but he also wanted, more than anything, for Mark Simon to be found, arrested, and out of their lives.
His caller continued, “Listen carefully. For obvious reasons I cannot meet you in Manteo, and our transaction, if we are able to work together, must be kept private. Are you familiar with the Whalehead Club in Corolla?”
Neal had never been there, but he knew of its location in the Currituck Heritage Park. The park contained several historic buildings, including the red brick Corolla Lighthouse. Lin had told him about this place, suggesting that they might take the family there when they came to visit.
“I’m not familiar with it, but I think I know where it is located?” he responded. Simon described carefully how he could find the place. “I’ll meet you just inside the main entrance to the club in exactly one hour. It’s a long drive from Manteo, where I presume you are now, so don’t waste any time. Come alone, and don’t tell anyone where you are going.” The connection was broken.
How did he know where I am? Neal wondered. He realized that Simon would’ve had his number from the record of his purchase, but he should’ve thought he was in Kill Devil Hills. Then it struck him, the banker. He must’ve been in touch with Simon. He probably knew where he was all along.
Neal pulled back onto the highway and headed toward the beach but not before dialing Pete Midgett’s number. Unfortunately, he reached the desk officer who told him that the Sheriff hadn’t yet returned to his office. “When you see him, tell him to contact Neal Smith right away. Tell him I’m heading for the Whalehead Club and he needs to get out there.” Simon had said to come alone and not tell anyone, but Neal wasn’t that crazy. He didn’t call Lin; he was afraid she’d try to follow him. He just hoped Midgett got the message in time. The Whalehead Club was in the next county, but there had to be some sort of rules that would allow Midgett to go after a fugitive, or maybe, he would call someone else—if he got word in time.
It felt to Neal as if the drive to the club was taking forever; he felt nervous each time he was caught by a traffic light on Hwy. 158. Finally, he reached the junction at Southern Shores and headed north through the village of Duck toward Corolla. It was quite evident that this was the most affluent part of the Outer Banks. The homes here, many of which were for summer use only, were large. They had names reflective of their “cottage” status—Summer Breeze, Mom’s Retreat, High Tide Times—but they were actually more like summer mansions.
Neal turned into the drive at the Whalehead Club right on time. He could see the historic buildings of old Corolla and the beautiful brick lighthouse to his right. Ahead was the club, a magnificent 1920’s Art Nouveau building with broad porches and a wide, green lawn that stretched to the sound. Originally built as a hunting lodge for a wealthy Rhode Island couple, the mansion had been used as a Coast Guard barracks during World War II, and later, as a rocket fuel test site. It had even had a brief tenure as a summer boarding school for boys. Much of the original land had eventually been sold to developers, but about twenty years before Currituck County had purchased the property to preserve it for public enjoyment. It was now part of a heritage park that preserved not only the mansion but also the lighthouse and several historic buildings. The house had been restored, and there were guided tours during the heavy tourist season. It was also a popular location for weddings and other events. Today though, a Monday afternoon in December, the place seemed to be deserted. There were only a couple of cars in the parking lot as Neal pulled in.
He sat in the car for a moment gathering his wits before proceeding. Mark Simon was a dangerous man, and Neal knew he had to remain calm and cautious during this meeting. His plan was to try to keep Simon engaged in conversation until the police could arrive. He couldn’t allow a case of the jitters to betray the fact that he had, indeed, called someone before he drove out.
Neal took several deep breaths and then got out of the car. He tried to walk casually toward the main entrance of the mansion, certain that he was being observed. As he stepped inside, he spotted Simon nearby. His demeanor was that of the master of this house. Simon seemed calm, and the smile on his face was almost too big.
“Well, we meet again, I’m so happy that we can do business together once more, ” Simon’s voice was like honey, almost sickeningly sweet.
Neal surprised himself at how calm he suddenly felt, “Indeed, Mr. Simon I’m more than happy to reclaim my property.”
Simon’s look suddenly changed, and his eyes took on an icy stare, but he remained calm, “By all means. That is the outcome we both desire. However, there are a few particulars we must discuss first. Shall we take a walk around these beautiful grounds? There are few visitors in the mansion today, but we might have more privacy outside.” He indicated that Neal should follow him to an exit on the east side of the building.
As they approached the exit, Neal realized that Simon had placed his hand in the pocket of his coat. He reached across to open the door, and in so doing, pressed his side against Neal. The blunt end of what had to be a heavy pistol pressed into Neal’s back. Simon was armed, and he was making sure Neal realized that his own position was quite vulnerable.
Still seeking to communicate calm, Neal turned and smiled at the man. “Do you feel it necessary that we conduct our business under these conditions?” He hoped his voice sounded calmer than he felt.
Simon broke into a lurid grin, “Insurance,” he replied. “I’m a firm believer in protecting my interests at all times. Don’t worry. As long as you cooperate I won’t have to use this.”
They began a stroll along the paths that led across the grounds toward the sound on one side and the historical area on the other. Simon paused and took Neal by the elbow.
“It is very important to me that you know and understand the story I have to tell you. Listen first, then I’ll try to answer your questions.” Simon’s voice was reasonable, but his look was distant and fixed. There was almost an irrational aspect to his demeanor. Neal found this far more frightening that his words, or even the fact that he had a weapon. He was beginning to suspect that Simon had taken leave of his senses completely.
They came to a bench, and seeing no one else around, Simon indicated that they should be seated. He kept his hand in the pocket, however, firmly gripping the gun.
“I know you are here because you want to get your ring back,” Simon began, “but first I want you to understand fully my position. I pride myself on being an honest businessman. I have never failed to meet my obligations to my customers or to my backers. I feel sure that my friend at Dare County Bank told you that I was debt free, and I have always used my finest estate jewelry as collateral for my business expansion. No one can say that I’ve ever cheated in a sale,” his expression was full of pride.
Neal couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This killer was touting his integrity as a businessman! “Perhaps so,” Neal couldn’t resist saying, “but where does kidnapping my fiancé enter the picture here? You won’t cheat a customer, but kidnapping and murder don’t count in your picture of integrity! Besides, that ring you speak of was bought and paid for. Your having it in your possession now might easily be viewed as theft.”
A strange look of shock and surprise crept over Simon’
s face; his lips curled back in an almost vicious snarl. He ripped the pistol from his pocket and jammed it against Neal’s neck, glancing around to be certain they were still alone.
“I see that you don’t really understand anything,” Simon spit out his words. “That bitch you claim as your fiancé brought all of this down on herself and on me and my wife. She’s too damn nosy for her own good. If she’d learned to mind her own business none of this would’ve happened. It’s entirely her fault , you’d see that if you understood the situation. Shut up and listen to me!”
Neal didn’t respond. It was clear that he was dealing with a crazy man here. For the first time, he really began to fear for his own life.
“Now, as I was saying,” Simon moved the gun away from Neal’s neck and concealed it once more in his pocket, making sure that it was still pressed firmly against Neal’s side. “The important thing for you to understand is that I value my integrity as a businessman above all, and I’ve also tried to do my duty by my wife. She’s not well, you know, hasn’t been for many years. She couldn’t be a real wife to me. I accepted that. Some might say that I was unfaithful to her; like all men, I have certain needs, and she wasn’t able to fulfill them. I sought my pleasures elsewhere from time to time,” he turned to face Neal with an icy stare, “ but I always took responsibility for Millicent. I would never let anything bad happen to her.”
Neal couldn’t stop himself from probing further, “Even if she hurt someone else?” Simon jerked his head back with surprise. “If you mean that nosy Johnson girl, she only got what she deserved also. Coming to my home, making unwarranted accusations. Millicent thought she was someone I…” he stammered, “someone I turned to for necessary comforts; she was unwell that day. I left the room to take a business call. Apparently, Millicent offered her some tea. I never knew what happened, but when I returned, she was unconscious. Milli said she’d been stung; I’m sure it was an accident. Poor girl, she was dead before I knew what was happening.” He stared off into space.
“Of course, I had to fix that. I had to help Millicent, she’s not responsible for what she does, you see. I have to look after her.”
Neal decided to push his luck a bit further, “What about the Frazier girls, Connie and Liz…”
At the mention of these names, Simon’s eyes grew wild; he whipped out the gun again, this time pressing it into Neal’s throat. “You really don’t understand, do you? I never touched Connie Frazier, but she was a troublemaker. Someone had to stop her before she meddled any further. A friend of mine saw to that. She was a nosy bitch, just like your friend. If people minded their own business none of this would’ve happened. It’s their own fault.”
Neal was beginning to get the picture more clearly now. Simon was as sick as his wife and even more dangerous. Mike Clark had been his instrument of terror and torture, doing his evil bidding.
***
Lin woke from her nap, and almost immediately, realized that the house was empty. Sparky was lying on the rug beside her bed, but there were no sounds coming from the office across the way where Neal was supposedly working on his article.
She got up and crossed the hall; there was no sign of Neal and no evidence that he’d been working earlier. She went back to the bedroom. As she entered, she saw the note on the dresser. She smiled as she read it. He’s gone to meet the Sheriff she thought, maybe he’ll come back with my ring. Glancing at the clock, she realized that she’d slept far longer than she’d intended. It was already late afternoon. Neal must’ve been detained in Manteo. She picked up her phone and punched in his number. It went straight to voice mail. He must have it off for some reason, she realized. She decided to call the Sheriff’s office to check on his whereabouts. Maybe he was there. When she reached the officer on the desk she identified herself. “I’m trying to reach Neal Smith. He said he was meeting the Sheriff at the bank this afternoon. I wondered if he might still be there or meeting with the Sheriff at his office.”
“No ma’am,” the young woman answered. “The Sheriff got back from the bank almost two hours ago, but Dr. Smith had called and left him a message. Said he wanted Sheriff Midgett to meet him at the Whalehead Club. I guess they’re still there.” Apprehension grew deep within Lin as she contemplated the implications of this message. Why would Neal be going to the Whalehead Club? Why would he want the Sheriff to join him? It hit her like a bolt from the blue; Neal was in trouble. She knew it.
She grabbed her jacket and the keys to the jeep; her own keys were gone; Neal must’ve driven her car. At the last second she decided to take Sparky with her, and she hastily leashed the dog. Somehow, she didn’t want to be on this trip alone.
***
Neal glanced around hoping to see signs of law enforcement arriving, but he saw nothing. He felt a growing sense of desperation. Was no one coming to help? Had the Sheriff not gotten his message? He no longer felt sure that he could escape this man. Simon caught him looking around.
“Who are you looking for? This place is closing in just a few minutes. There’s no one out here? Did you not listen to me? Did you tell someone you were coming here?”
Neal shook his head in denial, “No one’s coming, you can see that for yourself. You talked about Connie, now tell me about Liz, that was a long time ago…” He wanted to keep Simon talking as long as possible.
Simon got a far away look in his eyes; he relaxed his grip on the gun just a bit, sliding it away from Neal’s throat, but keeping it firmly against his chest. “Liz was never worth much, not to herself, her family, nor to me,” he smiled. “She was a sexy little thing though, always ready to party but…then she got greedy, found that jewelry but didn’t know what to do with it. I tried to tell her, tried to show her that I could help her make something of herself. If only she’d listened, I could use that jewelry to grow my business, she could’ve had whatever she wanted. I would’ve kept her in style, but she wouldn’t listen. She was greedy and way too dumb to know what was good for her. Well, she shouldn’t have come home when she did that night. If she’d stayed away, I might’ve helped her anyway. She was just plain dumb. What happened was her own fault.”
Neal was beginning to run out of things to say. How was he going to keep Simon talking? He was growing more certain that he was going to have to deal with this alone; no one was coming, at least not in time to help. Simon continued to stare off into space, but he kept the gun firmly pressed against Neal’s body.
Finally, Neal thought he heard a car in the distance. Was someone coming into the parking lot? He wanted to look, but didn’t want to attract Simon’s attention. The crazy man was staring off into the distance, probably deciding on his next move. Neal decided to try to get him talking again.
“OK, I’ve heard your story now,” he said in what he hoped was a steady voice, “Now what about my ring? How do I get it back? What do you want me to do?”
Simon turned with an eerie smile, “Now you’re being reasonable. That’s the way to do business, be reasonable. As you know, I use jewelry as collateral; it keeps its value and carries no risk to the lender. Now, I’m going to ask that you lend me twenty thousand dollars. When I have the money, then you’ll have the ring—not before.”
“But, I don’t understand,” Neal couldn’t believe what he’d just heard, “I own that ring now, it’s mine not yours to use.”
Simon grabbed Neal by the shoulder, jamming the gun further into his ribs a smirk on his face. “I thought you were smart enough to understand that old saying, ‘possession is nine points of the law’. I possess the ring; it’s in my control, and if you want it back you’ll get the money—by tomorrow; otherwise, I’ll simply go elsewhere for my loan. Don’t worry, I always pay my debts.”
Simon stared off into space giving Neal a limited opportunity to glance over his shoulder. He observed that Pete Midgett and two of his deputies were approaching slowly from the far side of the house. They were still some distance away, however. Midgett signaled him to stay calm.
“O
K. You’re right. You have the ring and I want it. I’ll have the money in hand by tomorrow morning. Where shall we meet?” for the first time, Neal realized he wasn’t alone. He still wasn’t sure how he’d get out of this unhurt, but at least, someone was coming.
“I’m not sure where I’ll be tomorrow,” Simon had resumed his demeanor as a business professional, but the gun was still firmly stuck in Neal’s ribs. “Don’t worry, I’ll call you first thing tomorrow morning with directions. Now we’re going to get up and walk carefully back to your car, don’t try anything funny.” Neal suddenly realized that Simon must have seen the police approaching. He felt him grip his collar firmly, pulling him to his feet. Oh my God, Neal thought, I’m a hostage.
Simon started to move back away from the bench dragging Neal along with him. He stepped off the path onto a thick patch of damp grass, and Neal realized that Simon’s foot was slipping. His hand jerked back, and he momentarily lost his grip on Neal’s collar. Neal flung himself aside, diving toward the hedge that edged the path. He vaulted over the top landing hard on the ground as Simon fired wildly toward him. The shot missed. He heard the sheriff’s men return the fire and then the sound of running.
“He’s heading toward the village, toward the lighthouse,” Pete Midgett’s booming voice rang out. There were no more shots for the moment, but Neal could hear the deputies in pursuit. He looked up to see Midgett standing over him, “Are you hit?” he asked.
Neal shook his head, “No, I’m fine, he’s crazy though, go after him, I’m OK.” The Sheriff took off after his men, moving surprisingly quickly for a man of his size.
Neal lay in the grass where he’d landed for a few moments, waiting to catch his breath. He continued to hear the sounds of running and assumed the Sheriff and his men were still in pursuit. Suddenly, in the distance, he heard more shots, several fired in quick succession. He got himself up and began walking back down the path toward the club. One staff member who appeared to be locking things up approached him, “What on earth is going on? I thought I heard gunshots.”
Sandrift: A Lin Hanna Mystery Page 32