In Plain Sight (Otter Creek Book 7)

by Rebecca Deel

  “Wise man, your husband. Come in from the cold.” She closed the door behind the detective. “Is he working at PSI today?”

  “Oh, yeah. You should have heard him gripe this morning when he left to run his five miles. The trainees will have a couple sessions outdoors today. None of the guys are looking forward to it.”

  Darcy flinched. “Five miles, huh?”

  “Each member of Durango runs that far or more every morning.”

  She eyed the trim woman walking beside her to the kitchen. “What about you?”

  Stella waggled her cast-covered arm. “I get a pass until this thing is off. Five more weeks to go.” She set the carrier on breakfast bar and shed her cold weather gear. “After that, I’ll have to lace up my running shoes. Wouldn’t do for the criminals to outrun me.”

  Darcy climbed on the barstool beside Stella. “What did you bring? Coffee? Chocolate?”

  “Nate sent blueberry green tea. If you like it, he’ll bring you a supply to keep here.”

  She eased a cup from the carrier and sipped. An explosion of blueberry flavor had her closing her eyes in delight. “Tell your husband I want a big supply. This is fabulous.”

  “Isn’t it?” Stella grinned. “He made this for me on our honeymoon. His mother loves tea and thinks it’s fun to mix her own. This is one of her blends.”

  “Tell him to send me a bill and a steady supply.” Another sip, then, “What did you find out, Stella?”

  Before she answered, Trent limped into the kitchen, dressed, weapon in hand. The detective stiffened at the sight of the weapon. “Forgotten me so soon, Trent?”

  He stopped, furrowed his brow before a smile crept across his mouth. “Stella, right? Good to see you again. How’s Nate treating you?”

  “Like a princess. We just returned from our honeymoon.”

  “I heard. Congratulations.” He slid his weapon into the holster at his mid-back. “He’s a good man, for an Army grunt. Any coffee left, Darce?”

  She waved toward the coffee pot. “Help yourself.” She glanced at Stella. “I’ll make vats of the stuff by day’s end.”

  “Durango lives on it, especially when they’re on a mission.”

  “How do you know?”

  Stella’s face flushed. “I’ve been involved in two of their missions. That’s how I met Nate. The third time, I was the mission.”

  “Now that sounds like an interesting story. Can you tell me?”

  “Some parts of it. Others are still classified. When we have time and no company strolling through, I’ll tell you.” She paused. “In fact, we should ask Del and Alex’s wife, Ivy, to join us. They’re part of the story.”

  “Oh, this will be good. How about a girls night when Sutton’s crew is behind bars?”

  “I’d rather not wait until we have these guys rounded up. There’s always another case to solve or crisis to avert.”

  “Do you like Mexican food?”

  “Love it.”

  “We’ll plan a meal here for us and let Durango have their own guys night at your place. That way we don’t have to worry about being interrupted.”

  Mason walked in, shoving his phone into his pocket. He pulled up short. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Stella smiled. “You must be Mason. I’m Stella Armstrong. My husband, Nate, is a teammate of Rio’s.”

  He shook hands with her. “Nice to meet you, Stella. Darcy, the other man from Elliott Construction will be here in fifteen minutes and we’ll start on your floor.”

  “I can’t wait to have my piano shipped here. I’ve missed playing whenever I want.”

  “I’m going to change into clothes I don’t mind messing up.” After he left, Trent also excused himself to wait in the living room for the Fortress techs, full coffee mug in hand.

  “Darcy, do you know anything about the history of your house?”

  She shook her head. “Mrs. Watson didn’t tell me anything except Ms. Bond’s family members didn’t want to be bothered with the place. After seeing all the stuff piled in this house, I understand their reasoning. Why?”

  “Ms. Bond wasn’t the only person murdered in this house.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Darcy’s stomach knotted. “You’re serious?”

  “I’m afraid so.” Stella laid her hand on Darcy’s forearm and squeezed gently. “There have been two other murders in its 135-year history.”

  “I’m assuming the other murders were back a ways. Mrs. Watson said Ms. Bond lived here sixty years.”

  “Charles Rockingham, the man who built the house, found his wife in bed with another man and killed her and her lover. Whatever passed for law enforcement in those days hung Rockingham on the tree in the backyard.”

  Darcy’s stomach pitched and rolled. She glanced out the windows of the French doors to the yard. Only one tree. Since she wouldn’t be able to look at the thing without remembering Rockingham dying on it, that tree was coming down as soon as possible. Stupid sentiment, maybe, but she couldn’t enjoy this place while seeing that tree and remembering the previous owner. When spring came, she’d see about planting a blue spruce or maybe some maple trees. “Please tell me the town fathers buried him somewhere else.”

  “He’s occupying a plot in the Otter Creek Cemetery.”

  A breath of relief whooshed out. “And the other death?”

  “The house sat empty for a number of years. The town residents believed the house was haunted by the ghosts of Alice Rockingham and James Edwards, her lover. About twenty years after their deaths, a family moved to town who were unaware of the tragic events until after they bought the house and moved in. The Nelsons had two children, ages seven and nine.”

  “Please tell me the kids lived a long and happy life.”

  Stella’s hand tightened on Darcy’s arm. “Elizabeth and William Nelson and their children lived here ten years. One stormy night, a band of thieves broke in and tried to force William to give them a king’s ransom in silver dollars. Of course, he didn’t know anything about any silver coins, but the thieves didn’t believe him. In their desire to force information from the father, they ended up killing him.”

  “What about his family?”

  “They were witnesses, Darcy. The thieves couldn’t allow them to live without forfeiting their own lives. The whole family died that night.”

  “How long was the house empty?”

  “Until the Grahams purchased it twenty years later.”

  “No tragic deaths when they lived here?”

  “Not that I could find.”

  “I’m thankful for that,” she murmured. “At least there was some happiness in this house. What about Ms. Bond?”

  “She lived here with her husband for many years. Calvin died about twenty-five years ago. They didn’t have children. She willed the house to a niece, but she’s in her sixties and doesn’t want to leave her grandchildren in California. She decided to sell the place and split the money with her two brothers.”

  “So you’re telling me the break-ins and the SUV trying to run me off the side of a mountain stems back to silver dollars?” Skepticism rang in her voice. “That’s unbelievable.”

  “Because we don’t obsess over silver coins. Wouldn’t you value the first Steinway ever created?”

  “Of course.” Just the possibility of playing on that piano made her heart beat faster.

  “My preference is handguns.” The detective smiled. “My collection pales in comparison to Nate’s.”

  Darcy frowned. “How many does he have?”

  “Too many to count. He has four full-sized gun safes at capacity.”

  “Incredible.”

  Stella sent her a pointed look. “Don’t kid yourself, Darcy. Rio is just as well armed.”

  “I thought he might be. Trent owns a stash that size. So, silver dollars, huh?”

  “I scanned newspapers from 1900 when Rockingham killed his wife. He was president of the Otter Creek bank and, according to the reporter, h
ad a treasure trove of Morgan silver dollars.”

  “Did the article mention how many?”

  She shook her head. “Charles was cagey. He never admitted how many he owned. His wife was the one bragging about the coins.”

  “Wouldn’t he place the coins in the bank?”

  “Like many in those days, he didn’t fully trust the banks. Too many runs on them. Remember, the Federal Reserve wasn’t in existence yet. To hedge his bets, he hid part of his wealth in the house.”

  “How much is a Morgan silver dollar worth?”

  “In mint condition, people pay anywhere from $150 to $5,000 for each one, especially if it was never in circulation. Unlike today’s coins which are made of cheap metals, the Morgan silver dollars were ninety percent silver.”

  “Sutton’s crew would kill for that?”

  “I’ve known people who killed for less. Trust me, Morgan silver dollars are rare enough to capture Sutton’s attention. One of his crew turned on him.”

  “How did Sutton learn about the coins?”

  “That I don’t know yet. I’ll keep digging, see if I can figure it out. We should ask Del if she’s heard anything. Librarians and booksellers hear all kinds of things and they rock at research. I would ask Maeve, the woman who owns the beauty parlor, but according to Josh, she couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it. If she knows information, it’s out on the grapevine within minutes. I don’t think it’s wise to let Sutton’s crew know we’re tracking down leads.”

  What leads? She didn’t want to dampen Stella’s optimism, but this was conjecture. “How do we know one of the other families didn’t find the coins and spend them?”

  “We don’t. I think there’s a written record somewhere, like a diary. It was common practice then, especially for women. Writing letters and keeping journals were an important part of life.” She smiled. “They didn’t have social media feeds.”

  The doorbell chimed again. Darcy sighed. “That has to be changed. It’s like hearing fingernails scratching a chalkboard.”

  Stella laughed. “It’s pretty bad.”

  Her brother limped into the kitchen. “Fortress is here, Darce.”

  “I’ll start a new pot of coffee.” Within minutes, the scent of the bracing brew drew techs into the kitchen for a cup before they started work. Trent acted more energized than he had for a week. She smiled at him barking out orders to the techs.

  Stella glanced at her watch. “I have to report to the station in an hour. I know the bodyguards cleared most of the house. Is there anything I can help with?” She scowled at her cast. “No heavy lifting, obviously.”

  “I still have three rooms on the third floor to work on. We’ll see what’s in them. I’m not sure how much I can do today, but I can form a plan for what’s left.”

  “Great.” Stella smiled. “Now I have a legitimate excuse to see this beautiful lady.”

  “Not much to see yet. However, I did buy furniture for the house.”

  “Are you serious? The whole house?”

  Darcy still couldn’t believe she bought that much on impulse. “I couldn’t resist when the saleswoman offered to cut the price in half if I bought all of it. The furniture store is holding everything until the contractor’s finished. Come on. I’ll give you a tour.”

  Minutes later, Darcy walked into the first of the three cluttered bedrooms.

  “This place was a fire trap.” Stella walked slowly into the slim path. “Ceramic tile?” The detective turned the closest box so she and Darcy could see the tile. “This is gorgeous, Darcy. Italian marble. There must be enough to do at least a couple bathrooms if you like it.”

  “What’s not to like?” The smoky gray tile would be perfect in the guest bathrooms on each floor. She could already picture the accents in the bathrooms. “Including something Ms. Bond collected in the finished product is fitting.”

  “Do you know if there are holes in these last rooms?”

  “The bodyguards didn’t say. It doesn’t look as if they made it into these rooms.”

  “I only saw the living room after it was cleared some. Nate took pictures of the untouched rooms, though. We noticed there was an order to the chaos.”

  Darcy stared at her. “I only saw the potential for a disastrous implosion. What did you see?”

  “Piles of books and magazines. Folded clothes. Boxed shoes. Each room had such things, but they were organized. I’m not sure what Ms. Bond intended to do with everything, but I don’t believe she intended to stockpile them permanently.”

  “Maybe her health or energy level prevented her from carrying out her plan. Annie, Del’s helper, was her best friend. She said Ms. Bond’s father grew up in the 1930s. She learned not to throw anything out.”

  “That explains the volume. Annie might be able to tell us more. I’ll stop by the store during my shift, see if I can catch her.”

  “Why did you ask if the bodyguards had been in here?” Darcy scanned the room. The contents resembled the same catastrophe she’d noted in the other rooms.

  “The piles have been shifted. In the other rooms, books were stacked against the back wall, clothes on the right, shoes on the left, miscellaneous things in the middle. In this one, everything is jumbled.”

  She took a closer look and realized Stella was correct. The piles were mixed. Clothes were thrown on top of the piles of books and magazines. The lids of several shoe boxes were off. “Do you think the bodyguards were curious about the contents?”

  “Nate and his teammates kept the trainees busy. People traipsed in and out of rooms with loads of items. Someone would have said something to one of Durango if a trainee nosed around when he should have been working.”

  Darcy considered that. “They were all over the place,” she conceded. “Rio and I made several trips through the rooms as well, checking on the progress.” She turned. “What’s the difference between this room and the rest?”

  “Although we haven’t seen the other two rooms left to clear, I think Sutton’s crew was desperate to find whatever they are looking for before you moved in. Slipping inside with Rio, Trent, and Mason present is much harder, will be next to impossible when the security system is operational.”

  “Unless they have an expert at disarming systems.”

  “They can find someone as a last resort. It’s easier gaining access to the house in the guise of friendship.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  “If all else fails, grab duct tape.” Rio waited for the laughter to die down. “I admit it sounds pretty funny.” He held up the roll of black-colored tape. “Take my word for it. Don’t leave home without it. Duct tape has been part of the standard equipment in my mike bag for years and should be in yours. My teammates carry their own supply in their Go bags. If you don’t have any, stop by the hardware store in town on the way back to the motel. The owner stocks black tape for PSI and our trainees. Any questions?” After receiving a negative response from the trainees, he dismissed the group to attend Quinn’s session. He didn’t envy his teammate. Part of the tactical session was outside in Crime Town. At least the sun was up now and the temperature had risen to the mid-forties, a heatwave compared to the temperature this morning during his run.

  Halfway through straightening chairs in the classroom, Rio’s phone signaled an incoming text. He scanned the message, satisfaction blooming in his gut. He called Bear. “What do you have for me, buddy?”

  “Chevy Tahoe decked out like Durango’s vehicles. Who is Darcy St. Claire? Any kin to Trent?”

  “Sister.”

  “I’ll give her the standard discount. When do you want delivery?”

  “As soon as you can get it here.”

  “I’ll knock off another ten percent if you come get it. We’re swamped.”

  Rio calculated the distance and time involved. He didn’t have any sessions tomorrow. Maybe Darcy would like to go along. Though Bear was out of the black ops game, he kept up with his Army buddies and the Fortress operatives Maddox sent
his way. “Deal. Tomorrow okay?”

  “Make it after one.”

  “You got it.”

  Rio gathered the rest of his gear and grabbed his bags. In the hallway, he stopped one of the PSI staffers. “Heard from Johnson?”

  “He just called. He’s the proud father of a strapping ten-pound boy. Named him Harold Oliver.”

  He winced. “Oh, man. I feel for the kid.”

  “That’s what I said when Harry told me the name. They plan to call him Junior.” The staffer grinned. “Hope Junior has a good sense of humor. With a name like that, he needs one.”

  If the Fortress techs were still swarming Darcy’s house, he should pick up dinner for them. Rio called Darcy, smiled when he heard her voice. “Hello, beautiful.”

  There was a pause, then his girl burst into laughter. “If you could see me now, you wouldn’t say that.”

  “What have you been doing?”

  “Cleaning a room on the third floor, making a million pots of coffee, and feeding this army of technicians. Right now, I have dust all over my clothes, cobwebs in my hair, and streaks of dirt on my face. I’m many things at this moment, but beautiful isn’t one of them.”

  “Sweetheart, you could be covered in mud and I’d still consider you beautiful.”

  “You are seriously biased, Kincaid, but I thank you just the same. Work went well?”

  “Oh, yeah. I taught the trainees about duct tape.”

  More laughter from Darcy. “Wish I could have sat in on that one.”

  “Are the techs still at the house?”

  “They hope to finish by seven, then head back to Nashville.”

  “Do I need to buy dinner for them?”

  “I would appreciate it.” Her voice dropped to a murmur. “These guys plowed through every bit of the food Nate dropped off for lunch and I didn’t have a vehicle to buy supplies for dinner.”

  “How many extra people are in the house?”

  “Five technicians.”

  “I’ll pick up the day’s special at Delaney’s. Will you be too tired to play the piano tonight, Darcy?”