Final Settlement

by Vicki Doudera

  “Is she … alright?” whispered Tina. They’d reached Donny, and the tiny cave, and were now holding their collective breath as he answered.

  “Her pulse is weak, but it’s there.” Donny lifted her up. “She needs to get warm as soon as possible.”

  “Here.” Tina unzipped her furry black jacket and yanked it off her thin frame. “Wrap this around her. I’ll call the ambulance and tell them what we’ve got.” She pointed in the direction of the limping man. “That’s Robichaud, and he’s gone out of his mind.”

  Donny wrapped the fur around the unconscious woman and began carrying her as quickly as he dared down Juniper Ridge. “He’ll be okay,” he yelled over his shoulder. “It’s Darby we’ve got to worry about.”

  FIFTEEN

  DEPUTY TOM ALLEN CLAIMED he would sit outside of the Coveside Clinic room for the entire night.

  “There’s something fishy going on here,” he confided to Donny. “Why in the world would Darby shoot Detective Robichaud, unless …” he shook his head and looked up at Donny. “I gotta say, this is outta my league. I called the Staties and they’ll be here just as soon as they can.”

  “Good idea.” Donny wasn’t sure what had happened on that ridge, and he wasn’t about to spout theories to Dozer, but he knew one thing: Darby Farr was innocent. And given that she was innocent, that meant that Dave Robichaud was not telling the truth. She’d no more tried to kill him than the man in the moon, and if she had shot him in the ankle as he kept insisting, why then she’d had an awfully good reason to do so.

  Detective Dave Robichaud was lying. The fact that his hospital bed was only two doors away from Darby’s did not give Donny any comfort, either.

  “I’ll keep you company,” he told Dozer, who gave a grateful grin. “Lemme just go and find myself a chair.”

  Donny ambled to the waiting room where the half dozen chairs were all occupied, two of them by Terri and Tina.

  “She’s going to be alright, isn’t she?” Tina asked anxiously.

  “She’s stable, and her core temperature’s nearly normal.” Donny managed a weak smile. “She’s gonna be fine.” He saw the dark circles etched under both the redheads’ eyes, their nearly identical grimaces of worry. “Why don’t you both go home and get some rest?” His voice was kind. “That way, you can visit Darby in the morning, when she’ll be able to talk.”

  The sisters nodded wearily. “Okay,” Tina said, rising to her feet. “I’ll find Miles’s number and let him know what happened.” She turned a concerned face back to Donny. “You’ll call me if there’s any change in her condition, right?”

  “You know I will,” he said, reaching out to tousle Tina’s hair.

  She gave a shy smile and turned toward Terri. “Let’s go, sis.”

  Terri gave a grave nod, her eyes downcast. Donny watched her somber expression. My new sister-in-law’s got something on her mind, he thought. Just like Tina, she wore her emotions right out front like a darn billboard.

  _____

  Sedated, warm, and as comfortable as she could be, Darby lay on the clean sheets of a bed at Hurricane Harbor’s Coveside Clinic and slept. Her Aunt Jane Farr had donated a large chunk of money for the efficient medical building, and then had spearheaded efforts to purchase expensive diagnostic equipment, but Darby was in no condition to remember any of that now.

  A young male nurse took her pulse and temperature, listened to her heart, and made notations on her chart. He adjusted the intravenous fluids that were hanging from a pole by her bed, and tucked the sheets and blankets around her thin body, being careful not to jostle the sling around her injured shoulder. She was beginning to recover from whatever had happened on that ridge, and he was pleased.

  He left Darby’s bedside, opened her door, and slid past the two men sitting outside the room. They were arguing quietly about baseball, their voices low and insistent. “Of course the Sox have a good shot at the Series,” one of them was saying. The nurse smiled and headed down the clinic’s narrow corridor.

  _____

  Bitsy didn’t have the heart to yell at Rosie for her latest transgression—chewing the passenger side seat belt in Tina’s truck. The puppy had been bored, after all, bored and lonely, and now as she dozed next to Bitsy on the living room sofa, Bitsy felt a kinship bordering on love for the warm, fuzzy creature.

  “Nobody’s perfect,” she whispered to the puppy, stroking her muzzle and the top of her head. The dog let out a satisfied little whimper in her sleep.

  Bitsy thought back to Sunday, when she and Charles had chosen the puppy. She remembered the call coming in from Dave Robichaud, and Charles’s pride at being asked to help the Mana-tuck department. What if Detective Robichaud had been up to no good on that day, as well? What did it mean that he and Darby had had some kind of serious, to-the-death struggle on Juniper Ridge?

  She pulled a knitted shawl, one they had given her at the treatment center back in Vegas, around her body and snuggled next to the puppy. Darby was going to be okay, that was what Tina had said when she’d phoned ten minutes earlier. Darby would survive and explain the whole thing.

  _____

  Deputy Tom Allen grinned and accepted the Styrofoam cup of coffee. “Where’d you find this, Pease?”

  “Nurse’s office. They’ve got a Mr. Coffee in there, and I brewed some up.”

  “So that’s what you were up to. I passed by on my way to use the facilities. Didn’t know you were a regular Suzy Homemaker.”

  Donny shrugged. “That’s me alright.” He took a sip of the coffee. “You want to go and stretch your legs a little, Dozer, go ahead.”

  “Maybe after I finish this fine cup of java.” Tom Allen took a sip and sighed. “Have you ever tried those international coffees, the kinds that are flavored? I gotta say, I really love the one—”

  A shot rang out and both men started, then jumped to their feet.

  “What the—?” Deputy Allen sprang toward Robichaud’s door, drawing his revolver as he moved.

  “Stand away, Pease,” he ordered.

  Both men listened by the doorway, hearing nothing but the squeak of the nurse’s sneakers as he raced down the corridor.

  “What happened?” The young man’s face was as white as the paper on his clipboard.

  “Keep back!” Deputy Allen turned the handle of the door and pushed it open with his foot, pointing the gun straight ahead. “Robichaud?”

  The detective lay motionless on the hospital bed, his revolver on the floor, a bright fountain of blood spurting from a bullet hole to his heart.

  _____

  The outside temperature was several degrees colder the next morning, the sun struggling to climb into the sky. Darby awoke from a dreamless sleep to a stout nurse with short silver hair taking her vitals and asking if she’d like the window shade up. “The doctor mentioned moving you to Manatuck Hospital,” she confided, smoothing the bed sheets. “But I have a feeling you’d rather stay here on the island.”

  Darby nodded. “I’d actually like to go home.” Her throat was dry and the nurse handed her a cup of water to sip.

  “I totally understand. How’s that shoulder feeling?” The nurse raised her eyebrows, waiting as Darby wiggled it the tiniest bit.

  She winced. “It’s sore. But nothing a few painkillers can’t take care of.”

  “That’s the spirit,” the nurse said, grinning. She lowered her voice. “I’m going to take you off the IV and get you some breakfast. The doctor will be in shortly, and that will be your chance to get out of here.” She shuddered. “Can’t say that I blame you for wanting to go, what with the shooting and all …”

  “Shooting?” Darby felt her stomach constrict with anxiety.

  “I shouldn’t be saying anything, but heck, you’ll find out soon enough.” She paused. “The guy in the room right over there,” she hitched a thumb to the left. “Detective Robichaud. He shot himself last night. Why he had access to his gun, I’ll never understand, but I’m certainly not the one who makes t
he rules.”

  Darby swallowed. “Was it fatal?”

  The nurse busied herself with the IV before responding. “Yes. I’m afraid it was.”

  A weight seemed to lift off Darby’s chest and she felt as if breathing was suddenly easier. Dave Robichaud had tried to kill her, right after he’d confessed to shoving Lorraine Delvecchio off the Breakwater. Now he had turned that same murderous rage on himself. Darby’s overriding feeling was of relief.

  The nurse gave her a bright smile. “All set,” she said. “I’ll be back with some breakfast in a few minutes.” She bustled out of the room, closing the door with a click behind her.

  _____

  Donny trotted up the walkway to Darby’s farmhouse and let himself in. Just as he’d feared, the inside temperature was decidedly chilly, the windows frosted up from the cold. He glanced around the normally neat kitchen, now a war zone. Pots and pans were pulled out of cabinets, drawers lay yanked out with dishtowels, utensils, and serving spoons scattered nearby, and the oven door yawned open, an enameled roasting pan overturned on the floor. “What in the name of heaven?” Donny shook his head and entered the living room.

  There, the scene was much the same. Pillows pulled from the couch, logs dragged from the fireplace, and the contents of desk drawers spilled all over the floor. The house had been ransacked, and as Donny looked at the mess in Darby’s bedroom, he remembered her incoherent ramblings on the ridge. She’d said the Japanese guy, the one Dave Robichaud had shot, was searching for some kind of box.

  Donny called Tina. “Come on over and help me clean,” he said, explaining the situation. He then hung up, lit a big fire in the living room, and started putting Darby Farr’s house back in order.

  _____

  Two hours later, Tina held Darby’s good arm and led her from the door of the Coveside Clinic to the waiting SUV. “You’re going to have to sit in the back, I’m afraid,” she said with a grimace. “Bitsy’s darn dog, Rosie, ate the front seat belt. Chewed it right up like it was a piece of licorice.”

  Darby giggled, and then winced. “Ouch! Laughing jiggles my shoulder,” she said. “But boy, it is funny.”

  Tina tried to frown, but then grinned. “It is kind of funny. You should have seen Bitsy’s face when I told her. She turned white as a ghost and started stammering something about insurance. I told her not to worry about it, but she’s insisting on paying for it.”

  Tina helped Darby into the back of the SUV and fastened her seat belt as if she were a child. “If you’re feeling better tomorrow, I’m taking you with me up to Westerly. There’s a new spa up there with the works. We’re getting manicures, pedicures, taking a sauna, and just plain relaxing.”

  “Sounds heavenly,” Darby said. Spas weren’t her thing, but the idea of decompressing in a warm place with a friend struck her as perfect.

  “Good. Right now I’m taking you home and then letting Donny know what he can pick up for you at the grocery store, okay?”

  “That’s awfully nice of Donny.”

  “He wants to help,” Tina said. “We all do.” She didn’t tell her friend that she and Donny had just cleaned up a monumental mess at the farmhouse. She started the truck, glancing at her phone before beginning to drive. “Huh. I’ve got a missed call from Terri. Wonder what that’s all about?”

  “Try her and see. I’m not exactly in any hurry.”

  Tina dialed her sister, said hello, and listened. She glanced at Darby. “We’ll be there in ten minutes,” she said. She listened for a few seconds more, and then hung up.

  “Terri wants to meet us at your house,” she said.

  “Any idea why?”

  “None whatsoever. I thought she’d taken the ferry back to Mana-tuck this morning, but I guess she stuck around.” She thought a moment. “She was definitely moody last night, but we all felt unsettled after that idiot—or should I say those idiots—tried to kill you.” She paused. “Have you talked to anyone about it? You know, like the police?”

  “I was questioned this morning. They’re launching an investigation today into Detective Robichaud’s actions.”

  Tina whistled softly. “Even though he killed himself?”

  Darby nodded.

  “Will they investigate Lorraine Delvecchio’s death?”

  “Yes, and the raid that killed Chief Dupont.”

  “They don’t think Detective Robichaud had anything to do with that, do they?” Tina’s face was horrified. “Why would he have wanted the Chief dead?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe Chief Dupont knew something that Robichaud didn’t want getting out.”

  Tina set her mouth in a grimace. “Guess there’s only one thing we do know,” she said as she pulled into Darby’s driveway. She shut off the engine and swiveled toward Darby in the back seat, her face hard. “Dave Robichaud was one dirty cop. To think he pretended to be saving you from that Japanese guy.” She shook her head and exited the SUV. A moment later she had eased Darby out of the back seat.

  “Watch your footing on this ice,” she warned, as a Mercedes pulled in the driveway. “Here’s Terri. Crap! She looks like she hasn’t slept a wink.”

  Darby stole a glance to see if Tina’s assessment of her sister was correct. Sure enough, dark circles hung under Terri’s eyes and her normally calm face was puckered with anxiety. “Hello, Terri,” Darby called out.

  “Hey.” She walked up to them hesitantly. “How are you feeling? I know this isn’t a good time, but—”

  “It’s fine,” Darby said. “I’m glad to see you. Please, come on in.”

  Tina opened the door and held it for Darby.

  The scent of burning wood welcomed them. The fireplace was stoked and burning, the temperature a cozy contrast to the frigid outside air.

  “It’s nice and warm in here,” Darby said gratefully. She turned and smiled at Tina. “Do I have Donny to thank for that yet again?”

  “I suppose so,” she said, her cheeks pink with pride. “He’s a good catch, that one.”

  The women shrugged off their coats and Darby heated water for tea. Tina carried cups into the living room, looking at her sister inquisitively. Once they were all sipping their beverages, Tina could no longer contain her curiosity. “Well?” she finally asked. “What’s up, Terri?”

  Her sister carefully placed cup and saucer on the coffee table. “I have something to tell you both.” She looked from Darby to Tina. “And I hope I can trust you to keep it a secret.”

  “That depends, Terri,” Tina sniffed. “What did you do?”

  Terri shook her head and took a deep breath. “It’s a long story—one I’ve never told anyone.” She rose and walked slowly toward the fire, her back to the other women, and gazed at the flames for a few minutes. Finally she sighed and turned toward them slowly. “It happened back when Tripp and I were first married.” She looked down at her hands, keeping her eyes downcast. “I got pregnant.”

  Tina snorted and slapped her thigh. “Well, of course you did! That’s how I got my nephew Tommy. And then later you had Tyler, and Tiffy …”

  “I mean before Tommy,” Terri said quietly. “I found out just before the wedding.”

  “Oh! Did you lose the baby? You know, miscarry? That happens to lots of women.” Tina looked at Darby to back her up.

  “No, I didn’t have a miscarriage.”

  “You decided not to have the baby?” Darby asked gently.

  Terri gave a slow nod.

  “I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready to be a mother. I’d just started a new job, and …” She closed her eyes. “An infant didn’t fit into my plans. I know how bad that makes me sound! I just wasn’t ready for the responsibility.”

  “Was it Tripp’s baby?” Tina asked.

  Terri’s eyes flashed. “Of course it was Tripp’s baby! That’s why I’ve felt so guilty all these years. He absolutely adores children, and if he ever knew what I did …”

  “You were young, Terri,” said Darby quietly. “You weren’t prepared to be a parent.”r />
  Terri nodded miserably. “I wasn’t, I know that, but still, I couldn’t bear him knowing the truth. And so I’ve hid it from him all these years.”

  “Until someone found out?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Lorraine Delvecchio.”

  Terri gave a heavy sigh. “My doctor was Theodore Hotchkiss, and Lorraine was his secretary. She saw my records and knew what the procedure was.” She rolled her eyes. “I suppose she figured out that Tripp was well-off, too. The first blackmail letter arrived a few months later.”

  “What a horrible thing to do!” Tina sprang from her seat on the couch and went to her sister, giving her a tight hug. “You must have wanted to kill her!” The comment hung in the air for several moments. Tina released her grip on her sister. “Not that you would have, of course—”

  Terri managed a shaky smile. “I never thought of killing Lorraine, but I was angry.” She came back to the couch and sat down. “Although, when I think about it now, the anger came gradually. At first I was just afraid. I knew my secret would devastate Tripp, and I thought that maybe he wouldn’t love me anymore. I kept thinking that once I had a child, things would be different.”

  “And then you had Tommy.” Tina’s face was kind.

  “Yes. He was born two years later. You remember, Tina—we were so overjoyed. I told Lorraine that I wasn’t paying her anymore, that she would have to find somebody else to torment.”

  Darby gave Terri a level gaze. “And what happened?”

  “She told me that the whole island would know what I’d done. That I was a baby killer, and that no one would want me—not my husband, not his family, and not little Tommy.”

  Terri had started to quietly cry. “So I kept paying her. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  Darby thought fleetingly of Terri’s move off the island. “Did you relocate to Westerly because of Lorraine?”

  She nodded. “I thought that if we were farther away, she might leave me alone. But she wasn’t about to let me stop making those monthly payments. In fact, she demanded even more as time went on. By then I’d built up a good reputation in the community. I had friends, and responsibilities … I couldn’t let her destroy that.”