by Millie Mack
Copyright © 2013 Publisher Name
All rights reserved.
ISBN: XXXXXX
ISBN 13: XXXXX
Library of Congress Control Number: XXXXX (If applicable)
LCCN Imprint Name: City and State (If applicable)
Acknowledgments
This book could never have been written without the help and the support of my family and friends.
Any acknowledgement should start at the beginning and that is with my Mom. My mother who in her early years was a librarian, loved to read mysteries. In fact she was known to check the ending first and then read the rest of the book to see if the clues supported the conclusion. We spent many hours together enjoying mystery movies and shows which deepened my love for the genre. She gets all the credit for developing my appreciation for a good mystery.
There are so many other people who supported me but there are a few special people I want to acknowledge. First, I want to thank Deb who is an excellent editor and made terrific suggestions when the book was in its infancy and continued to offer great suggestions as the book was completed. To Nancy who pushed me in a good way to get the book finished and will miss the results of her effort. To Gale who was not only supportive of my writing, but a good friend. And to Stacy who only saw the positive in everything I was doing. She was always the sunshine when I needed a boost and lifted the dark clouds.
I want to thank Mark who did a phenomenal job of developing my website www.darkandstormynightmysteries.com and teaching me everything I needed to know to support the site. And to Pam for her help with designing the various print pieces and for being a good listener.
And to all the members of my family who have always been a source of inspiration and support for all that I do.
To all of these great folks, I offer a big Thank You!
Dedication
For Mildred--I probably never thanked you enough while you were here. You were a great mentor of mysteries, a wonderful influence on my life, but most important you were always a friend. This book is for you. I hope it’s a mystery you would enjoy.
Prologue
For the first time since he walked to the end pier, Jamie realized his life could be in danger. It was dark on the pier, and he was grateful it had finally stopped raining. He didn’t want to do this meeting on a dark and stormy night on the end of a pier. The warm afternoon rain caused a fog to rise off the cool waters of the harbor, and this fog would hide them from the people strolling past on the boardwalk.
Jamie was careful to move his eyes without moving his body. He didn’t want the men to know what he was thinking. If he went into the water, he would need to do a sideways dive. He wasn’t worried about the maneuver. After all, in his youth he won every swimming event he entered. The real question was what to do after he was in the water. Perhaps go deep under the pier and then come back up on the other side. Hopefully the men would be looking on one side, and he would be swimming on the other. He could swim across to the other pier and quietly edge back to the boardwalk. His plans were interrupted as the men came closer.
“You just wouldn’t let it go. You had to keep researching that damn story,” stated the man in charge. “A minor mistake in my European operation, and somehow you’re back in TriCity doing an investigation. Why didn’t you just drop it?”
“Look, there’s a simple solution,” offered Jamie. “Just stop what you’re doing, and my story will never get published.”
“Simple, yes, but not practical,” said the smallest of the three men.
“Why would you say that? You know I’m not that way. If a person changes his bad behavior, I’d never expose him.”
“Yes, I do believe you would keep your word.”
While the man in charge was thinking, the third man approached Jamie.
“Do you think we’re fools?” He spoke with an Eastern European accent. “We just walk away and then, what, we all become friends?”
He pushed Jamie in the chest. Jamie tried throwing a punch, but was pushed again. He fell backward, hitting his head on the piling, and rolled into the water.
In the final moment of consciousness, Jamie had two thoughts. First, he hoped his son, Christopher, would remember what he taught him in the years they were together, and this would guide him through the rest of his life. Second, he hoped Carrie would ignore the feelings of the past and respond to his challenge to come to TriCity. Then the darkness slowly spread over him and wiped out the remaining light.
“There he is—pull him over. Is he dead?” asked the man in charge.
The two men grabbed his legs and pulled him to the pier.
“Yeah, he’s dead,” answered the smaller man. “What you want to do?”
“You shouldn’t have pushed him,” the boss said sternly to the third man. “But there’s no going back now. Take his shoes and socks and then let go of him.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Get his shoes and socks.”
The men did as they were told.
“Wring the socks out to get them as dry as possible, and dump any water out of the shoes.”
He then took the shoes from the one man and the socks from the other. He draped a sock over each shoe and lined them up neatly on the edge of the pier.
1
It was a typical TriCity night. The temperature and humidity remained high as a great round orange ball fell slowly toward the horizon. The humidity caused the sounds of the street to be distorted. Ascot spun quickly. No one was there.
Calm down. Calm down. You need to keep your wits about you. You’ll never spot those two agents if you jump at every sound, he reminded himself.
Ascot walked with the tourist crowds as they left the TriCity harbor. But the evening was growing late and the crowds were thinning. Soon this natural cover would disappear. He hugged the sidewalk nearest the stores and walked as quickly as he dared. Most tourists were walking slowly as they dragged themselves to the concrete parking lots. Soon they would return to the comfort of their homes while Ascot was faced with finding a safe route back to his hotel.
He pretended to window shop by looking at an assortment of silk ties. In a typical nine-to-five job, a tie was probably an important purchase. Ascot knew nothing about silk ties.
As the sun’s glare created a mirror in the window, Ascot spotted one of his adversaries on the other side of the street. He didn’t turn around, but he looked quickly left and right. Where’s the second agent? He asked himself silently. He was unable to answer his question since the first agent spotted him and was now trying to cross the street through the oncoming traffic. Ascot had one advantage--the time it would take the agent to cross the street. The agent also had an advantage since he knew where his partner was.
Ascot moved quickly, darting between the caravans of families and their strollers. He scooted into an alley. It was closed to traffic, but busy with pedestrians seeking refreshments in the sidewalk cafés and pubs. The alley even had a bank branch with ATM machines so visitors could replenish their funds and spend more.
Ascot was about one hundred feet into the alley when his earlier question was answered. Coming from the opposite direction was the second agent. He was trapped! His mind raced quickly, searching for an escape. There was no escape…when the phone began to ring.
Damn, Carrie thought. This is awful. I’ve trapped my hero in an alley where only Superman could do a rescue. I should stick with photography and stop trying to write this book.
The phone continued to ring. Carrie stood up, ran her hands through her short, curly, light-brown hair and then leaned over and punched the save key on her computer. She perched her glasses on top of her head and crossed to the other side of the room to answer the phone.
“Hello,” she answered sharply.
“Oh hello.” The voice on the other end was unsure. “I’d like to speak to Carrie Kingsford?”
“This is Carrie Kingsford.” She was annoyed but with the status of her story rather than the caller.
“Carrie, is that you? This is Joel Wheeler.” The voice was now steady and in control.
“Joel Wheeler,” she said slowly. Even with the name in her possession, she didn’t immediately recognize it. Then it hit her. “Joel, gosh I can’t believe it. How long has it been since you and I spoke—ten, no, fifteen years since…”
“It’s been twelve since we spoke, but over twenty since I’ve seen you. Of course, that could be easily fixed if you would attend one of our alumni events.”
“Dare I say it seems like only yesterday when we were attending classes at college?” Carrie’s mind recalled a picture of a young Joel Wheeler with dark long hair tied in a ponytail. They worked together on the college newspaper. And then her mind produced another picture of the heated editorial debates, with her and Joel arguing over the newspaper’s viewpoint. Joel leaned toward the more radical views of the time, and Carrie was often on the opposite side. His strong booming voice would drown out the other opinions. Jamie Faraday, the assistant editor, would jump in as referee on more than one intense discussion between them.
“Carrie, are you listening?”
“I’m sorry. I was daydreaming.” She focused her mind back to the present. “I still can’t believe it’s you,” she said. “What causes one of TriCity’s best lawyers to call me on a Thursday afternoon?”
“Thanks for the compliment. So you do keep in touch with the news of your old town.”
“Every once in a while, I grab a TriCity newspaper. Have you tracked me down for some sort of alumni donation or another event? Although March is a little early, I thought most alumni events were later in the spring.”
“I wish it were something that pleasant. Unfortunately, I’m afraid I’ve some rather bad news.” Joel Wheeler paused.
“Bad news…what bad news?” she asked softly.
“Now that I actually have you on the phone, this is harder than I thought it would be. I guess the only way to get through this is just to say it. Carrie, Jamie Faraday is dead.”
2
The news of Jamie’s death traveled through the time and space of twenty-five years. Carrie could see Jamie with his brown wavy hair and the smile that was a permanent feature on his face. Regardless of the unending deadlines and disputes, he always fully researched his stories and enjoyed the process. Jamie believed that “life is fun because all points of view are not black or white but lovely shades of gray that are fun to explore.” He always said this with a twinkle in his brown eyes. Those beautiful eyes… and her own eyes filled with tears.
“Carrie, I’m sorry. I felt I needed to call you personally since the three of us were such close friends once.”
“Oh Joel, there’s no easy way to break this kind of news. I’d much rather hear it from you.” Carrie paused for a moment to gather her thoughts and then asked, “Why haven’t I seen or heard anything about his death in the media? Jamie is…was a fairly well-known journalist.”
“You know the Faradays and their influence in the publishing world. With the exception of limited stories in the local papers, they were able to keep other coverage low-key.”
Carrie definitely knew about the Faraday influence in the world of publishing and in Jamie’s life. She always wondered if her relationship with Jamie would have been different without their interference. Yet when all was said and done, Jamie worked for Faraday Publishing as a reporter. Faraday Press published four magazines, including the regional Tri-County Monthly and News World, a global publication. Jamie was an overseas reporter for News World.
Suddenly Carrie wanted more answers about Jamie’s death. “When did he die?”
“His body was found this past Saturday in the early-morning hours. The funeral arrangements couldn’t be finalized until after the autopsy. That’s why I waited to call you until today.”
“You said his body was found? How did he die?”
“His body was pulled from the harbor. The initial findings are he drowned, but the coroner added ‘under suspicious circumstances.’”
“Drowned? You know that’s impossible! You know as well as I do Jamie was a champion swimmer.” Carrie exclaimed
“The police think Jamie may have hit his head as he dived into the water. They think he might have taken a dare and was trying to prove he was still a champion swimmer.”
“Jamie would only take a dare if he was drinking.” She paused. “Was he drinking?”
“The newspaper reported that he was drinking earlier in the evening at the Admiral’s Saloon, where he discussed swimming with the bartender. That’s how the police got the idea he might have jumped into the water to prove something. However, with no witnesses, it’s only a theory.”
“Hmm, that’s interesting. I also remember that Jamie would have been hanging around a bar and talking with a bartender if he was working on a story. Was Jamie researching a story?”
“Now wait a minute!” Joel’s deep resounding voice reacted quickly. “I don’t have all the answers. In fact, I know very little since the case is still under investigation. I mean, how would I know if Jamie was working on a story?” Then Joel softened his tone. “Carrie, as shocking as Jamie’s death is to us, it may be nothing more than an accident.”
“Do you believe it was an accident?”
“I honestly don’t know. I mean, there are still unanswered questions, but sometimes with accidental deaths, some questions are never answered.”
With that, Carrie realized there wasn’t much more that could be said except, “Joel, will you keep me informed as details are revealed?”
“Wait a minute. There’s another reason I’m calling. Jamie’s funeral is Saturday, and you should plan on attending.”
“I can’t go to the funeral. It’s been too many years, and Jamie’s family wouldn’t want me…”
Joel cut her off. “You’ve got to come to the funeral, or at least to the reading of Jamie’s will. He named you as one of the beneficiaries. However, I think the family would be upset if you came only to the reading of the will without paying proper respects at the funeral.”
“Why would Jamie name me in his will after all these years? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“I thought perhaps, well…did you two keep in touch?” Joel asked tentatively.
“No, we didn’t,” Carrie said firmly. “We lost touch after college. Occasionally, I read his articles in various magazines, and then I followed him more closely when he became a regular contributor to News World. But we never communicated with each other.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to open old wounds. The reason I asked is there’s a letter for you from Jamie. The fact that he left you a letter led me to believe you two still communicated.”
“What kind of a letter?”
“I’ve no idea. It’s in the hands of his lawyer, Simpson.”
“Jamie didn’t use you for legal matters?” She blurted the question out before thinking. “I’m sorry, that was rude. I just thought since you called me, you were the lawyer handling the estate.”
“No, my area of expertise is corporate law, with a special emphasis on import/export laws. I don’t do wills and estate planning. Besides, once Jamie returned from Europe, he seemed to be more aligned with his family and their suggestions of how to handle items like estate planning. I think he knew getting along with his family provided a more stable environment for his son after his wife’s death.”
“I didn’t know his… his wife died.” Carrie stumbled over the words.
“You knew he was married?”
“I heard he married a younger English woman when he was assigned in London. How did she die?” Carrie had started pacing back and forth across the floor of her study.
“She stepped out in front of a c
ar on one of the busiest streets in London. It seemed suspicious at the time, but the investigation revealed it was just an accident. Soon after her death Jamie started to make arrangements to return to the US. However, it took over a year by the time his son finished school and everything was cleared for his return.”
“How old is the boy?” Carrie quickened her pace back and forth across the room as she asked more questions.
“He’s twelve, and his name is Christopher. He seems to be a good kid.” Joel hesitated and then added, “Maybe I should also mention that Jamie returned home with a woman named Suzanne Redmond. Jamie said she was his research assistant; however, she told everyone they were engaged. She’s staying at the Faraday house.”
“Did Jamie say he was engaged?”
“That’s kind of strange, too. He never denied it, but he also never confirmed it. She started using the ‘engaged’ word much more frequently after his death.” Joel paused and then added, “The only other thing you need to know is the logistics. The church service is eleven o’clock at Grace Episcopal on State Street, with interment at twelve-thirty at Woodhaven. You know the cemetery where we used to ice skate on the pond?”
“Yes, I remember, Joel. Thank you for calling. It meant a great deal to hear the news personally from you.”
“You will come, won’t you? I really would like to see you again.”
“I guess I have no choice. I’ve been invited by a dead man.”
3
Carrie never attended funerals. She hated them. She preferred not to have a funeral as the last memory of the person. Plus, she could never be sure of her own emotional state. She found that now that she was older, she could be standing at the gravesite of a person she barely knew, and the tears would stream down her face. When this happened, she wasn’t much comfort to the family. She didn’t know how she would react at Jamie’s funeral, considering their past relationship. But on Friday, she pulled herself together, packed her luggage for several days, and headed to TriCity in her car.
