Fleeced in Stonington

by Rosemary Goodwin

  Who knew lending money could be deadly?

  A Kate Bart Mystery

  Kate’s interior design business is growing. So is her sizzling hot relationship with Dutch, her partner in PI in the deceptively picturesque town of Stonington, New Jersey. But where there’s a bank, there’s a scam—and Stonington’s banks are under siege.

  The crooks’ methods are nothing new—taking out fraudulent loans using a non-existent corporation as a front—but this one has a new twist. Not only are the lost millions threatening to bankrupt Stonington’s savings institutions, some of the greedy bank officers who approved the loans are going belly up. As in murdered.

  Hired to track the killers, Kate and Dutch chase down a meandering trail of dead-end clues through northern New Jersey. And each new bit of hard evidence comes with a price—a rising body count. With their friends under threat, Kate and Dutch race to put the pieces together. Before it’s death for another victim.

  Warning: This book contains several murders, an intelligent, determined woman, and a P.I. who wants to turn up the heat on their lovemaking while looking for the killer.

  eBooks are not transferable.

  They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

  Macon GA 31201

  Fleeced in Stonington

  Copyright © 2010 by Rosemary Goodwin

  ISBN: 978-1-60504-889-5

  Edited by Bethany Morgan

  Cover by Natalie Winters

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: February 2010

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  Fleeced in Stonington

  Rosemary Goodwin

  Dedication

  Many thanks to my family and friends for their continued encouragement.

  Prologue

  The company’s web site at www.KateBartInteriors.com listed Kate’s biography, embellished with a glamorous photo. She wished she looked that attractive every day—beautiful—but, oh heck—she accepted the way she was. With a click of the mouse, you could read all about her on her site:

  She was born an only child, Katelynn Turner (Kate for short), in England. She met and married her American Air Force fiancé, Brian, became Kate Bart and then moved to the United States to live.

  For a couple of years she worked in the corporate world, complete with its unobtainable mission statements, the glass ceilings, office politics, troll-like executives, ridiculous team-building games and back-biting by younger women who clawed their way over others to reach the top of the ladder.

  Bored with the corporate job, she began a new career in a New Jersey detective agency. The men in charge made her their Gal Friday, which meant performing all of the regular secretarial duties and, naturally, making the coffee, and cleaning the toilet. She soon learned the business and moved up to small investigative jobs.

  When job stress overwhelmed her, Kate left the detective agency and took design classes at the local county college. Upon graduation, she opened this business dealing in antiques and interior design.

  Thanks for visiting Kate Bart Interiors!

  Chapter One

  Kate says: Do you love the outdoors? The newest interior design trend is called Woodland Chic. It’s the Adirondack look gone upscale—it brings the outdoors inside. The Woodland Chic design uses bark, twigs, faux bois (false wood), etc. But, instead of being natural, it’s executed in metal, fabric or other materials. For example: Cutlery handles resembling twigs, or a twig chair executed in concrete. For the holidays, decorate your Christmas tree with woodland creatures ornaments.

  “Bye, Mum,” Kate called out to her mother in the kitchen. “Going to see a man about a house.” She crammed her blue hat, which was crowned with blue and white silk hydrangeas, onto her head. She was known for her hats. She believed she needed a chapeau to complete her outfit and was hooked on any hat that was blue, a very royal, royal blue perched on her bleached-blonde hair. Besides, it covered up the dark roots when needed.

  “What’s on your work schedule today, dear?” her mother, Mildred, asked while she patted her white, tightly permed hair. She drained her cup of English Breakfast tea. Mildred was an expatriate of England and had sipped tea as her favored beverage for more years than she cared to remember.

  “Dutch and I are going over to a real estate office. He’s looking at places that can be remodeled into an office.”

  “How exciting. What estate agent are you going to?”

  “Stonington Real Estate. We’ve never dealt with them before so it’ll be interesting. I looked them up in the Yellow Pages,” Kate said while she checked her teeth in the hall mirror. White and dazzling.

  “Exactly what is Dutch looking for?”

  Kate walked back into the kitchen. “He needs professional space. He saw a small house for sale near the hospital and recently the zoning for property on that street was changed to commercial. It’s on Magnolia Road and would be perfect for his business.”

  “I think I know the area,” Mildred answered. “My doctor’s group just remodeled one of those places near there, and it will be their new office.”

  “Makes sense. Dutch only needs a small place. A front office, a bathroom, a file room with his safe.”

  Finished with her tea, Mildred walked to the sink and rinsed out her cup. “I hope he finds something reasonable,” she said. “Real estate prices have gone so low recently.”

  “There are loads of foreclosures too. So we may get lucky and find something cheap.”

  Mildred offered her cheek to Kate.

  Kate kissed it gently. ”What are you doing with your day?” she asked.

  “I’ll be meeting my lady friends at the tea shop for luncheon.” She enjoyed using formal words—hated the slang the young people used, and those ridiculous text messaging shortened words. She called it the death knell of the English language as it has been utilized for centuries.

  “Sounds like fun,” Kate called out as she headed for the back door.

  “It will be.”

  “See you later, then.”

  Chapter Two

  Kate says: Ignore people who say don’t put a rug over your carpeting. Place a colorful rug down and it instantly forms a seating arrangement.

  Dutch’s cabin wasn’t far outside of Stonington proper. Kate drove through town slowly, avoiding the school bus routes, which could make you crawl to your destination as the buses stopped every few hundred yards picking up children. Stonington was the kind of place where children grew up playing army in the woods and swimming in the dangerous water-filled sandpit. They would leave town and go on to college in other states and start their careers. Many returned to Stonington when it was time for retirement, often seeking the same lifestyle they had left. Of course, the whole area had changed during their absence.

  Huge houses sat near the town’s borders on several groomed acres carved out of meadows, which once were peaceful pastures for horses. Kate missed the sight of those beautiful creatures leaning over the fences to take treats from local children—they had melted away into history.

  On the other side of town, ramshackle homes clung to the sides of the bumpy, s
carred dirt roads encircling the town’s man-made lake. The lake provided food and a temporary resting place for the skeins of Canada and white snow geese. Their leaders would circle the freshly harvested sweet corn and soy bean fields surrounding the lake, and land first, leading the rest of the gaggle to slowly smother the fields to graze on the dropped kernels and beans.

  On the outskirts of the town, Dutch’s home was set back from the road down a long potholed driveway that became one big mud-hole every spring thaw. Dutch joked that at his place there was the famous Vermont’s Fifth Mud Season. “It sucks you out of your boots when you attempt to walk up the drive.”

  It was a large log cabin that featured a huge fireplace in the great room. He’d used the place when he went fishing with his Air Force buddy, Brian. Kate was married to Brian at the time, and both of them had been shocked when Brian died suddenly of a brain aneurysm.

  Dutch retired from the New York City police department, and had no family left to speak of, so had decided to live at his cabin in the woods. His parents died years ago, and he’d just found out that his older brother had “gone bamboo” along with other ex-pats who deserted and stayed on in Vietnam after the war ended.

  Another decision he’d made was to get his New Jersey license and become a private investigator. He had all of the training and expertise and it would keep him busy—and amused, so he thought. He needed an assistant for some of the research, and he’d recruited Kate who had experience from a job in her past.

  Kate slowly pulled her SUV into the cabin’s driveway, avoiding the potholes, and parked her vehicle. A mourning dove, startled by her arrival, burst into flight on whistling wings from the ground under the bird feeder. She breathed in the piney smell of the trees as she climbed up the steps. Dutch opened the front door before she could knock.

  “Hi, there,” he said. He held out his hand to help her up the wooden steps. “How’s your knee?”

  “It’s much better today. Thanks.” She’d endured weeks of rehabilitation exercises after she’d wrenched her knee with a misstep off a stepladder at her store.

  “I’m glad it’s improving.” He squeezed her hand as he assisted her up the last two steps.

  She kissed him on a cheek.

  “Is that any way to greet a man?” he said with a laugh. “Especially one that’s nuts about you.”

  She allowed him to pull her close to his body, and with open mouth she kissed him passionately. He held her tightly around her waist. She felt his leg muscles stiffen. He smells delicious. She used to struggle to get free, nervous at his nearness, but she’d gotten over that feeling last year. She’d become intimate with him at last. Much more intimate. Easy, girl. Don’t get too worked up, we have to go look for an office building. That was difficult. She adored this man.

  She peeled herself off Dutch. He staggered and feigned an almost-faint.

  “Ready to go?” she asked.

  “Not fair,” he answered. “You get me all worked up and then cut me off.”

  She ignored his remark with a smile. “You’d better take a light jacket. These May days are changeable. I have a sweater in my car.”

  “Thanks, Mommy. You’re usually right about the weather. It’s nice to have someone take care of me,” he said in a joking, childish voice. With his jacket slung over his shoulder, he went down the steps in front of her. “I’ll catch you if you stumble.”

  She giggled at the thought. “You’re a nut.”

  Kate retrieved the sweater from her car. They headed to town in Dutch’s truck. The Stonington Real Estate’s office was on the opposite side of town near the town’s only funeral parlor, which had sat empty for a long time after the former owner was jailed. Seeing the building reminded her of the case they had handled together last year. Kate was nauseated just looking at the place. She and Dutch had solved the murders of two people and managed to have the people arrested who were responsible for those deaths. “Although it’s under new management, that building still gives me the creeps.”

  “I don’t expect we’ll have to go in there for several more years. No one we know is going to die soon—we hope,” Dutch said.

  Kate crossed her fingers for luck. There’ve been enough deaths around there to last quite a few years, she thought.

  Dutch drove by the mall and several strip stores and offices. “There it is.” He pointed to a building set back from the road with several painted parking spaces out front. A wooden sign stood, staked into the small piece of grass. It had “Stonington Real Estate” painted on it along with a large hand with its index finger pointing to the side entrance.

  They walked along the sidewalk, bordered with a cat-piddly smelling boxwood hedge, to the office door. Dutch went in first and held the door open for her.

  “Thanks,” she said. “You’re such a gentleman.”

  He looked at her. She knew he never knew if she was serious or sarcastic—and liked to keep him guessing.

  “May I help you?” the young woman at the front desk asked. Her badge said her name was Cherie Andrews. With her teased, messy blonde hair, puffy lips and black eye shadow, she was a perfect doppelganger of a famous pop star.

  “Yes. Cherie?” Dutch spoke up.

  “That’s me.”

  Dutch continued, “I’d like to talk to a salesperson about purchasing property to make into an office.”

  “I’m sorry, but all of the salespeople are out of the office. Showing properties, you know.” Cherie slopped her gum like a cow chewing its cud. Kate stared at the girl. Classy broad. Someone I’d like working for me in my shop. I don’t think so.

  “Hold on now,” a male voice called out from behind a partially open door. “He can come in and see me.” The man pulled open the door to his office and walked forward, holding out his hand to shake Dutch’s. “Andrew Giamgello at your service. That’s Gee-am-jello. Nice Irish name, eh?” He chuckled. “Just call me Andy. I’m the broker here.”

  “Pleased to meet you.” Dutch shook his hand and pointed to her. “This is my friend, Kate Bart. She has the interior-design store downtown.”

  “Ah, yes, I know the place. Hello, Kate.” He shook her hand. “We could do with some of your design help around here,” Andy said with a wheezy laugh.

  “Call me when you’re ready,” Kate said. She looked around the office. It was a mess. A motorcycle was in a state of repair with pieces of the engine spread out on newspapers scattered with nuts and screws of all sorts. The smell of oil made her head ache. She found it disgusting. She didn’t know why, but the old movie Casablanca came to her. “Of all the bars and gin joints in all the towns in all the world,” we had to walk into this one. She even heard the voice of Humphrey Bogart. She shook her head to clear it out and get back to the task at hand.

  Andy’s desk was an old, recycled government issue from the 1950s, painted dark green. Probably picked up for pennies on the dollar at a sale at the Picattiny Arsenal. His credenza was a beat-up folding table and the clients’ seating was beige, folding chairs with small, fashionable accents of rust. Looks like the style is Early Military Rejects.

  Dutch pulled one of the chairs out for Kate to sit on and settled next to her. “I’m looking for a place to open as my office,” Dutch began. “Maybe one of those small homes on the road near the hospital. I think it’s Magnolia Road.”

  “So—what you’re really looking for is a building that’s in an area zoned commercial,” Andy stated.

  “That’s right. I believe they’re all zoned that way on the street since the new hospital was built there. Doctors are taking over the houses and remodeling them.”

  “Good, you’ve checked the facts, I see. I like to deal with people who’ve done their homework. They can make knowledgeable decisions without giving me grief. You’d be amazed at how stup…er…misinformed the public is.” Andy leaned way back in the old cracked-vinyl desk chair, clomped his worn boots onto the desk, and jerked as he almost went over backward when the chair snapped back. Almost lying flat, he ch
ewed on the large cigar jammed in his teeth.

  Whew, that was close. Kate laughed to herself. How is he going to take notes in this position?

  Almost as a response to her, he slid his boots off the desk, heaved his fat belly forward and flopped into a sitting position as he pulled a legal pad out of a desk drawer. He folded the page on top over—it was covered in writing—to a new page. “Let me take your information and then we’ll look on the computer at the multi-listings. They’re all of the properties listed with real estate companies in this area in one place.”

  Dutch moved his chair closer to the desk and gave Andy his name, address and phone numbers. He looked over at Kate with a wink.

  “Cherie,” Andy yelled to the receptionist, “bring me in a file folder.”

  The young girl flip-flopped into the office and dumped a folder on Andy’s desk. She blew a bubble with her gum as she walked by Kate. Lovely.

  “Okay,” Andy said as he brushed his hair over his head because it had flipped off its course. He had the biggest comb-over that Kate had ever seen. It went from just above his left ear all the way over to his right ear. Why do men do that? They really look like idiots. His must stand up like a sail on a windy day.

  Andy clicked a few times on his computer and turned the monitor so Dutch and Kate could see the screen. Several properties showed up on each page, including descriptions and photos. Dutch chose a few places to tour and inspect and made an appointment with Andy for the next day.

  Earlier, Dutch had promised to help Kate move some furniture around in her showroom for the rest of the afternoon. Now ready to go to the store, they bade Andy goodbye and shook hands.

  “See you tomorrow, then,” Andy said. He put the legal pad inside the new folder. “I’ll look at the listings and contact the listing brokers to see if there are special instructions for each place. Don’t want to walk into a trap or run into dangerous animals. We’ll also need to get the keys if they don’t have a lockbox on the door.”