by Bobbi Holmes
“I really don’t see why we couldn’t have done this on the phone,” she said, making no attempt to conceal her annoyance.
“You’ll understand when I show you.” He pointed to the viewpoint along the nearby bluff.
With a sigh, Darlene walked alongside him toward the viewpoint. Glancing over to him she asked, “Are you cold?”
“No. But sometimes it’s a little cool up here. I suppose I over dressed.” He laughed.
When they reached the edge of the bluff, she looked at him again, waiting for his explanation.
“Be careful,” he warned. “It’s a little precarious up here. But I need to show you the land Isabella purchased and explain why it might be a concern.”
“Here? What did she think she was going to do with this? No way to build anything, it’s so steep.”
“Maybe you’ll understand when you see what someone built along the shore.”
“I don’t see anything.” Darlene squinted as she peered over the cliff.
“Watch where you’re stepping, some of the rocks might be loose.”
Darlene glanced down to her feet. Something sparkling caught her eye. There wedged between some rocks was what appeared to be a diamond ring.
“Look at this!” Darlene said excitedly as she kneeled and reached for the ring.
* * *
Sometimes Darlene could be so predictable. He watched as she eagerly knelt down, oblivious to any possible danger. From his coat pocket, he removed a heavy paperweight he had hidden there. With steady hands, he brought the paperweight down on her skull, crushing it. She crumbled to the ground without a whimper.
Glancing around, he hastily pulled a knit cap from his pocket and slipped it on while kneeling beside Darlene. While this stretch of roadway was normally quiet, there was always a possibility another car could come by at any minute.
Feeling for a pulse, he was surprised to find there was none. He expected a second blow would be needed to finish the job. Picking up the diamond ring next to her body, he slipped it in his pocket. It wasn’t actually a real diamond, but a high quality cubic zirconia with plenty of sparkle. Enough sparkle to attract Darlene’s attention.
He shoved her body over the bluff’s edge and watched it roll down the hill. It was about two hundred feet from where they stood to the desolate stretch of beach below. Before standing, he picked up her purse and opened it up.
“Wasn’t sure if you’d leave your purse in the car, but this saves time,” he said aloud. Pulling her cellphone from the purse, he used it to send a text message. Waiting a few seconds for a reply, he glanced around nervously. A reply came, to which he responded. A brief text exchange ensued. When he was finished, he slipped the cellphone back into the purse. Setting the handbag on the ground, he picked up the paperweight. There was blood on one side. He set it atop the leather handbag, blood side down.
Standing up, he jogged toward the car he had borrowed. Borrowed was putting it nicely. He had procured the vehicle from one of his employees. He needed to return the car before anyone knew it was missing and before someone drove down the road and noticed the T-Bird. His manner of dress might make it difficult for someone to identify him, yet he couldn’t take any chances. He had already taken enough chances these last few weeks to last a lifetime.
* * *
Brian Henderson stared at his cellphone. He had just had the oddest text exchange from Darlene. During their affair, she had never sent him text messages, fearful Stoddard would see them on her phone. With Stoddard gone, Brian figured she no longer had that worry. Of course, she still didn’t want to be seen with him, considering her behavior the previous night. Perhaps that was why she wanted him to meet her at such an isolated location. Silently, he reread the exchange.
Her: Meet me at Pilgrims Point, as soon as you can. Come alone. Urgent.
Him: Why?
Her: You were so angry last night. We need to work this out.
Him: There is nothing to work out.
Her: You hurt my arm last night. I thought you were going to break it.
Him: It wasn’t that bad.
Her: You scare me when you get violent. I hate when you are mad at me.
Him: I’m not mad.
Her: I still love you. Please forgive me for what I did. Please meet me.
Him: When?
Her: Now.
Him: Okay.
* * *
Brian drove along the desolate stretch of highway leading to Pilgrim’s Point. According to local folklore, Frederick Marlow had named the landmark. Why the town’s founder chose that name, Brian had no idea.
He spied the T-Bird up ahead, parked along the side of the road. He didn’t see Darlene. Pulling behind the T-Bird, he put his car in park and turned off the ignition. Getting out of his car, he looked around. It didn’t feel right. Walking to Darlene’s car, he peeked inside. He didn’t see keys in the ignition or a purse on the seat. She must have taken them with her. But where did she go?
Surveying the desolate area overlooking the ocean, he noticed what appeared to be a woman’s handbag abandoned on the ground near the edge of a cliff. His heart lurched. “Darlene!” he shouted. With a sprint, he rushed to the cliff’s edge. A paperweight set atop the leather handbag. It was always breezy at Pilgrim’s Point. The heavy paperweight helped prevent the handbag from blowing off the side of the cliff. Picking the paperweight up, he tossed it aside and opened the purse, looking for identification. The purse belonged to Darlene.
Once again, he shouted her name. Clutching the handbag in one hand, he stood up and looked over the edge of the cliff. A lifeless body lay on the beach below. Frantic, he looked for some way to climb down to Darlene, praying she was still alive. Unfortunately, the only way to get to her now would be to drive down the highway a half mile, take the dirt path leading down the hill, and walk back up the beach. Racing to his car, he pulled out his cellphone and called for help.
* * *
Removing his baseball cap briefly and repositioning it on his head, Chief MacDonald let out a weary sigh. Silently, he watched the coroner examine Darlene’s body. It had been one hell of a day, and for once Danielle Boatman wasn’t in the center of the drama.
“What was she doing up there, so close to the edge?” MacDonald asked as he looked up the sheer cliff to the roadway. The T-Bird remained parked along the side of the road. He couldn’t see it from his position on the beach, but he knew it was still there.
Brian stood with Joe next to MacDonald. The three looked up to where the fatal fall had probably taken place. Trying to wrap his head around the tragic event, Brian remained silent after MacDonald asked the question.
“She didn’t just fall,” the coroner said as he stood up and turned to face the three officers.
“What do you mean?” MacDonald asked.
“By her injuries, I’d say someone hit her over the head first. With something hard. And then just pushed her over the cliff. She rolled down that hill. Judging by her injuries, I’d say the hit to the head is what killed her. But I’ll know more when I give her a thorough exam.” The coroner turned his back to the police officers and instructed his men to move the body.
MacDonald got on his radio and relayed the coroner’s information to the officers up on the road by the T-Bird.
“I wonder if this has something to do with what Bill Jones found in her rental,” MacDonald murmured.
“What are you talking about?” Brian asked.
“When you were out of the office this morning, we got a call from Bill Jones. He found a Ford Flex, one that looks just like Danielle’s, parked in the garage of a rental house owned by Darlene.”
“What was Bill Jones doing in the garage?” Brian asked.
“He does repair work for the rental,” Joe explained.
“Are you saying Darlene was the one framing Boatman?” Brian asked.
“It sure looks that way,” Joe said. “After Bill called, we got a warrant and I went to check out the house. The car’s there.
Looks just like Danielle’s.”
“I don’t understand; when we checked registrations for Ford Flexes similar to Boatman’s, no one in town owned one that color, aside from Boatman. Who does the car belong to?” Brian asked.
“It’s registered to some guy who lives in Washington,” MacDonald said. “According to him, a woman approached him at the supermarket parking lot in Vancouver and offered to pay cash for his car. She was offering about five thousand more than what the car was worth, so I guess he didn’t question it. By the description he gave of the woman, it might be Darlene if she was wearing a red wig.”
“I also found a hairpiece—a braided ponytail—in the car,” Joe said. “Along with a hat, gloves, red purse, and ski mask. Plus, the Washington license plate had been covered with paper, making it look like a temporary dealer plate like the one on Danielle’s car. Even the numbers matched Danielle’s.”
“I think we found something, Chief,” a voice called over the radio.
“What is it?” MacDonald asked. Both Joe and Brian could hear the conversation.
“Maybe the murder weapon. It looks like blood. We may have a fingerprint,” the voice over the radio told him.
Chapter Thirty-One
Danielle sat with Marie in a booth at Lucy’s Diner. They had just ordered lunch.
“This is nice. It was sweet of you to invite me,” Marie said as she unfolded her napkin, placing it on her lap. “How is Lily doing?”
“Much better, although she’s going stir crazy. She’s counting the days, can’t wait to be done with the IV treatments. It really is confining.”
“She has been able to get out a little, hasn’t she?” Marie asked.
“Just once. Remember, she was out with Ian the day the hitman tried to kill Joe and me.”
“Shocking.” Marie shook her head. “I understand he’s still in a coma.”
Before Danielle could respond, the waitress arrived with their beverages. They resumed their conversation when they were alone again.
“I wanted to ask you something,” Danielle said. “Ian got copies of Stoddard and Isabella’s wills. We figure whoever killed Stoddard might have done it for the inheritance.”
“I would assume Stoddard left his estate to Darlene, since he doesn’t really have any other family.”
“He did leave most of it to Darlene. But he also left a portion to something called KS Trust. Do you have any idea what that might be?”
“KS Trust?” Marie frowned. “No, sorry, I’ve never heard of it before.”
“I’ve tried to play detective online but from what I’ve learned, trust information is private. I doubt Stoddard’s attorney would share that information with me.”
“Do you know who Stoddard’s attorney is?” Marie asked.
“Some guy in Portland. Never heard of him before. But his name was on the will Darlene filed with probate.”
“Perhaps it’s some charity,” Marie suggested. “Although I never knew Stoddard to be very charitable.”
“I figure KS is an acronym, or someone’s initials.”
“Initials? Those were his sister’s initials.”
“Isabella’s mother?” Danielle asked.
“Yes, Karen Strickland.”
“Her married name,” Danielle murmured.
“Yes and no.” Marie chuckled.
“What do you mean?”
“Strickland wasn’t Bobby’s last name. And it obviously wasn’t her maiden name.”
“Who’s Bobby?” Danielle asked.
“Isabella’s father. Karen’s husband.”
“Who was Strickland?”
“Some name they grabbed out of a hat, I suppose.” Marie sipped her iced tea.
“I don’t understand?”
“After they ran Bobby off and then found out Karen was pregnant, they really didn’t want her going by her maiden name. How would that look? But Stoddard’s father was not about to have his daughter use Bobby’s name.”
“Now I’m really confused. What do you mean—they ran him off? According to Ian, Isabella’s father only married her mother for the Gusarov money, and when they disinherited her and she got pregnant, he abandoned her.”
“I imagine that’s the story Ian dug up when he did his research. Some folks believe if you repeat a falsehood often enough, others will start accepting it as fact.”
“Are you saying that story wasn’t true?”
“It’s the version Karen’s father wanted the world to believe. The only problem, that’s not what happened,” Marie said. “I was there when Karen and Bobby eloped. I remember how furious Karen’s father was. Considering poor Karen’s mental state, it didn’t take much to break them up.”
“Mental state?”
“Karen was always fragile and a bit of a scatterbrain, like her mother. Needy might be one way to describe her. She seemed to adore Bobby, and he her, but she also adored her father and his fury over the elopement was too much for her. Once they ran Bobby off, Old Man Gusarov couldn’t wait to erase all memory of him from their lives. Unfortunately, Karen was with child by that time, so having Karen take a new surname was how he was able to erase Bobby without making his daughter look like an unmarried mother.”
“Is that why Isabella didn’t mention her father by name?” Danielle murmured. “Didn’t she know it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I told you Ian got copies of the wills. Isabella’s will, the one Stoddard put into probate, left everything to her father, should Stoddard predecease her. Yet she doesn’t mention him by name, just refers to him as her biological father.”
“Interesting.” Marie sipped her tea. “That would mean she found out Strickland wasn’t the name of her father.”
“I think it’s bizarre Karen would take some random name. You’d think she’d want her child to carry the name of the man she loved.”
“Poor Karen never had much of a backbone. And frankly, I don’t think she was all there.”
“All there?” Danielle frowned.
Marie tapped a finger against her temple. “Her screws were a bit loose. I suspect a few were missing. After Isabella was born, she seemed to unravel completely. According to rumors around town, she was addicted to pain medication. She was in and out of rehab. I remember the last time she was in rehab, she ran away. It was quite a scandal at the time. But then they found her, and not long after that she died.”
“So do you think this KS Trust is some sort of charity, perhaps in the memory of Karen?”
“It’s possible.” Marie shrugged.
“So what do you remember about Isabella’s father?”
“I met him a few times. I found him rather charming. Unfortunately, he was as poor as a church mouse. From what I recall, his parents died when he was quite young, and he was raised by some distant relative who promptly showed him to the door when he turned eighteen.”
“Were Bobby and Karen teenagers when they started dating?”
“He moved to town not long after he turned eighteen. He and Karen met right after that. They secretly dated for a few months. I suppose Karen always knew her father wouldn’t approve.”
“I wonder why he moved to Frederickport.”
“There used to be a little used car lot on the south side of town. The man who owned it was a friend of mine. He passed away about fifteen years ago. He’s the one who told me about Bobby’s family situation. Apparently, he’d met Bobby through some mutual friends, heard his story, felt sorry for him, and offered him a job washing cars. Within six months, Bobby was a car salesman. He was quite industrious, as I recall.”
“But not quite good enough for Karen?”
“Her parents didn’t think so.” Marie looked up as the server brought their food to the table. She moved her glass of ice tea to one side to make room for her plate of food.
“I’m curious,” Danielle said after the server left their table. “When Adam was dating Isabella, did she ever discuss her father with you? You said something a mom
ent ago—that Isabella thought her father’s name was Strickland.”
“No, I never discussed her parent’s situation with her. But I always assumed she thought her father’s surname was Strickland. I’m sure there are others in town—those who were around back then—who are aware of what really happened. But, no one would ever say anything, at least not openly. Some found the Gusarov family quite intimidating, and they didn’t want to cross them so they remained quiet. Of course, the family never intimidated me. I just felt, what was the point after all this time? Perhaps if Isabella had shown some interest in finding her father, I would have said something.”
“It’s interesting she mentioned him in her will.”
“If it is her will, since the people at Earthbound Spirits now claim to be the true beneficiaries.”
“It’s complicated.” Danielle took a bite of her burger.
“I will tell you a little secret,” Marie whispered, glancing around to make sure no one could hear. “I was secretly relieved when Adam broke up with Isabella.”
Danielle arched her brows. “Really?”
“Isabella was a sweet girl. I liked her, in spite of that horrid tattoo. What are young women thinking these days?” Marie shook her head. “But I was worried about the great-grandchildren.” Marie tapped a finger against her temple again. “Bad genes.”
“Oh, you mean because of Karen’s mental issues?”
“Yes. I had a cousin who married the loveliest girl. Her mother was nuttier than a fruitcake. When they had children, goofiest bunch you ever saw. All in the genes.”
“What do you think happened to Isabella’s father?”
“I know there was some sort of row. What happened exactly, I don’t know. It was all very hush hush. But one minute Karen and Bobby are newlyweds, the next her father is busting a gasket and then Bobby just vanishes. Moves out of town. Never to be heard of again.”
Danielle’s eyes widened. “You don’t think…they killed him?”
Marie laughed. “No. Although that thought did cross my mind when I heard he just upped and disappeared. But my friend, the one who gave the boy a job, later told me in confidence that he got a call from Bobby several months later, apologizing for leaving so abruptly. He didn’t explain what had happened, but he wanted to know how Karen was. From what I understand, he’d call my friend every month. Continued to call after Karen died. But then he was asking about Isabella.”