by Ellery Adams
“I’ll let you know when I talk to Natasha,” she said.
“I appreciate it, but let me remind you, you need to be careful talking to these people,” he said. “From what you’ve told me, you’re wading into waters of love and hate. Granted, on the surface they might not have anything to do with Curtis’s death, but I find personal relationships with those dynamics can often be volatile. You never know how people will react.”
Chapter 8
Molly drove down the curving lane to the manor house. When she came to a fork, she saw a sign in the foliage pointing to the Manor House Main Entrance, Manor House Service Entrance, and the Gordon Museum. She took the turn for the service entrance, thinking this would be a good way to meet Peggy.
The paved drive soon turned to gravel, and at its end was a parking lot. A white van with Galloway Services stenciled on the doors was parked there, and Molly saw a man seated behind the steering wheel. He was looking at his phone but glanced up at her as she drove by. She parked near the walkway and got out of her car. The wind whipped her hair into her face, and she held it back with one hand, and with the other snapped the collar of her coat up. When she reached the door, she was disappointed to find it was locked.
Reaching into her purse, she took out her phone, intending to call Maxim. Footsteps crunched the gravel behind her. It was the man she’d seen in the van. He was in his early thirties and wore thick-soled work boots, a navy blue windbreaker, and a ball cap with the words Galloway Services printed on the front.
“Hi!” He gave her a friendly wave. “If you’re here to make a delivery, I’m afraid nobody’s home.”
“Who are you?”
“James Galloway, of Galloway Services. And you are?”
“Molly Appleby, a friend of Maxim’s.”
“He’s not here. He left with Ms. Gordon about a half hour ago.”
“Oh.” A wasted trip, Molly thought. Had he even told Natasha she wanted to talk to her? “Is Peggy Shaw here?”
“No. She left about ten minutes after they did.”
“Do you know where they’ve all gone?”
“No idea, sorry.” He rocked back on his heels and jammed his hands in his pockets. “You said you’re friends with Maxim. Did he tell you what happened here last night? Do you know his father died?”
“Yes, I know. I was actually here when it happened. Did you know Curtis Cobb?”
“Not really. I’d see him around from time to time, but if anything needed to be done at the cottage, I always dealt with his wife, Galina.” He shook his head. “She died last summer, drowned. Real shame.”
“What do you do here, James?”
“General maintenance,” he said. “I don’t usually work on Sundays, but I wanted to check on a job I did yesterday on some clapboard siding at the pool house.”
“You do only outdoor maintenance?”
“No. Last week I fixed a plumbing problem in one of the bathrooms in the manor house, and the week before that I repaired some broken floor tile in the museum.”
“Have you worked on the estate a long time?”
“Actually, it’s my father’s company, and he started working for the Gordons thirty-five years ago. I’ve been with Dad about eight years. Ms. Gordon’s parents were some of his first customers, so he’s very loyal to the family. I am, too.” He smiled. “They gave Dad his lucky break. He likes to say after they hired him, that’s when the phone started to ring.”
Molly’s cell phone rang, and Maxim’s name flashed on the screen. “I’m sorry, James. I’ve got to take this. It was nice meeting you.”
“Same here.” He gave her a little salute and headed for his van.
Molly said, “Maxim, hi. I’m at the manor house. Where are you?”
“Aunt Natasha woke up with a really bad headache. I took her to the emergency clinic. She’s with a doctor.”
“Oh, no.”
“I don’t feel so hot either. I think the stress is catching up with us. Did you talk to Hattie?”
“Yes. I learned a few things. Did you know your aunt asked your father to move out of the cottage by the first of the year? Hattie said it was because she didn’t like her living there.”
“I had no idea. Dad never mentioned it. I can’t believe she’d kick him out. She was probably just surprised, you know, like I was, when Hattie moved in. I’m sure in time we both would have gotten used to it.”
Or not, Molly thought, as she walked back to her car against the wind. “She said you stopped speaking to your father when he told you she’d moved in.”
“Yeah. I know it was stupid, but I was upset for a couple of reasons. One, because he had her move in so fast, and two, because he didn’t have the courtesy to tell me about it until after it happened. Kurt told me it wasn’t doing me any good holding a grudge. It’s not like my father ever put me first before, so why should I be angry when he didn’t do it this time, either? Anyway, when Dad called a few weeks ago to tell me about the problems he was having with the shop, I looked at it as an opportunity to come to terms with the new reality of what life was going to be like going forward without my mother. Rarus Books on the verge of closing, Dad deeply in debt, and living with Hattie. It hasn’t been easy. Kurt was pushing me to stay with them at the cottage, but I told him no, I’m taking baby steps, thank you very much. I wasn’t ready to go that far. Staying at the manor house was close enough.”
“Maxim, do you think your father and Hattie were having an affair before your mother died?”
There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Molly reached her car and got in. She started the engine, and the call switched over to her Bluetooth connection. Maxim still hadn’t answered. “Are you still there?”
“Yes, I’m here,” he said. “Look, I know I asked you to investigate my father’s death, and that means you need to know everything about him, skeletons and all. But I’m feeling uncomfortable talking about this. It’s not like I have any proof there was something going on between them.”
“I hear a ‘but’ in there.”
“But . . . it’s just, well, I noticed a change in my mother about a year ago, after Hattie moved to Vermont. She became withdrawn.”
“Depressed?”
“No. Not depressed.” He lowered his voice. “Maybe withdrawn isn’t the right word, either. I just felt she was troubled about something. I thought she might have come to the end of her rope, putting up with Dad. When she came to visit me and Kurt in July, I asked her about it. She told me everything was fine, she was just tired from working extra hours at Monkey Paws. But maybe Dad was doing more than being his typical caustic self. Maybe he was seeing Hattie on the side. I honestly don’t know.”
Molly felt her eyebrows shoot up. “Did you say your mother worked for Felix at Monkey Paws?”
“Yeah, she did.”
“How long?”
“About two, three years,” he said. “She used to work with Dad at Rarus Books, of course, but she didn’t get paid. Knowing what I do now about their financial problems, taking the job at Monkey Paws makes sense. At the time, I thought she took the job for fun. She wasn’t into art the way Aunt Natasha is, but she enjoyed exploring antique stores. When I was young, she’d take me out for the day and we’d go antiquing. That’s where my love affair with antiques began.”
Molly turned out of the estate. Back on the main road, she felt a sense of relief. Misty Vale was too isolated and remote to be enjoyable. She wondered how Natasha could stand living in the mansion by herself. All those rooms, and she probably only occupied a few of them.
She heard voices in the background. “Do you have to go?”
“No, that’s not for me. Aunt Natasha’s still with the doctor.”
“One other thing, since I’ve got you on the phone,” she said. “Hattie told me your grandparents disowned your mother when she married your father. Did your mother ever talk to you about what happened between them?”
“Yes, when I was sixteen, and it finally d
awned on me that Aunt Natasha had inherited everything, I asked her about it. She told me she’d had a falling out with her parents because they didn’t like my father, and it had nothing to do with me. She said when I turned thirty, I’d inherit the money that would have gone to her, and she was fine with that. I never told her, but I was going to split whatever I got from Aunt Natasha with her.”
“Do you know how much it will be?”
“No. She wasn’t sure, and I haven’t asked Aunt Natasha. I figure she’ll tell me when the time is right.”
Molly wondered if Natasha had felt guilty about her sister losing her inheritance. It would explain why she gave her the cottage to live in. But after their parents died, why didn’t she give her the inheritance that belonged to her?
“Molly, I have to go,” he said. “Aunt Natasha is heading my way. I’m going to drive her home, and then I’m going to Rarus Books to see what kind of shape the police have left it in. Detective Lombardi was going to search it today. Would you like to get together for coffee, say, three o’clock?”
“Sure. How about Java Jitters?”
“I’ll see you there,” he said.
Chapter 9
On the drive back to the city, Molly thought about Galina and Natasha growing up on the estate. It must have been lonely, since the nearest neighbors were miles away. There wouldn’t have been any trick-or-treating for them, unless their parents (or maybe Peggy) had driven them to Fairhill Village. As she reached the small town, she noted that there were homes off Main Street, which was only a few blocks long, and even on a Sunday morning there were people on the sidewalks. Most seemed to be heading into a café on a corner advertising a two-for-one breakfast special.
At the end of Main Street, Molly saw a sign for Fairhill Cemetery and Mausoleum. She remembered Hattie telling her this is where Galina had been buried. She took the turn in the opposite direction, driving through the countryside, back to Burlington. She appreciated the beauty of wide-open spaces, and she knew there were healthy benefits to living that kind of lifestyle, but she liked living close to downtown, being able to walk to the shops and restaurants. It was also an easier, and faster, commute for Matt to the hospital.
Matt’s car wasn’t in the driveway when she got home. He always parked there, so Molly and Starling could have the garage for their vehicles. She pressed the button to open the garage door, and as she parked the Audi in the garage she noticed a silver sedan drive by slowly in her rearview mirror. It looked like the car she’d seen early that morning, which seemed like a lifetime ago.
Molly got out of her car and watched the sedan come to a stop in front of Mrs. Houghton’s house. She walked out of the garage, wanting to get a better look at it, and maybe write down the license plate number, but the car pulled away from the curb and drove off.
Feeling a little uneasy about the car, she went into the house and checked her phone for messages. There wasn’t anything from Matt on her phone, but he’d left her a note on the kitchen table to let her know he’d taken Tyler to the grocery store and Starling had gone to visit her friend, Rachel, for the day. She left the note on the kitchen table, thinking Curtis Cobb wasn’t the only one who was old school.
Molly poured herself a glass of iced tea. She knew she was lucky to have found Matt. Being married to him was the best thing that had ever happened to her. He was a wonderful husband. He pitched in whenever he could with grocery shopping, vacuuming, and cleaning the bathrooms, which she truly hated to do. As her mother liked to say, Matt was a keeper.
Molly sat at the kitchen table and took a drink of her iced tea. Then she called Mrs. Houghton. She was in her late eighties, and all the neighbors called her their unofficial neighborhood watchperson, since she spent most of her time spying out her windows on them.
“Hello, Molly. What a nice surprise. How are you?”
“I’m very well, thank you,” Molly said. “How have you been, Mrs. Houghton?”
“Oh, you know, it’s not easy getting old. My back pains me every day, and I’m having trouble getting in and out of the shower.” Molly knew she’d taken a spill on her lawn a few months ago while she was out gardening. “My daughter wants me to move into an assisted living home. I never thought I would, but I’ve been talking to some of my friends who’ve done it, and they all say they wished they’d moved in years ago.”
“You should check it out,” Molly said. “They have a lot of activities you can do to stay busy, they cook and clean for you, and it’s a nice way to make new friends.”
“You sound like my daughter. I told her she should move into one of the apartments if she’s so enamored of them.”
Molly knew if she didn’t get to the reason she’d called, Mrs. Houghton would talk her ear off for the next hour about her daughter and her grandchildren. “I’m calling to ask if you noticed a silver sedan parked outside your house early this morning.”
Mrs. Houghton laughed. “I never get up before nine. Why? Do you think someone was up to no good?”
“No, but I thought I saw the car again, just now, when I got home. This time, they didn’t stop, they kept on driving.”
“Well, it’s no one I know. Should I be concerned?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. Maybe it’s someone thinking about buying the Laramies’ house down the street, and they want to see what the neighborhood is like.”
“Well, if they’re looking to buy the Laramies’ house,” Mrs. Houghton said, “they should park in front of their house, don’t you think? But I’ll keep an eye out for the car, and if I see it, I’ll ask the driver what he wants.”
“No, no, don’t do that,” Molly said quickly. “You don’t want to risk walking down your driveway and falling again. If you see the car, give me a call, and I’ll have a chat with the driver.”
“All right. I’ll do that. I saw Starling out the other day with Tyler. He’s gotten so big. Is he walking?”
“Yes, a little. He’s eating regular food now, which is a lot easier than making special meals for him. He’s a real joy.”
“Well, that’s wonderful. When Sharon and my son were little, they were both a handful.”
Mrs. Houghton went on for a while, talking about her children, and grandchildren, as Molly knew she would. She listened politely, but when she heard the front door open, it gave her the perfect opportunity to end the call. “I have to go, Mrs. Houghton. Matt and Tyler just got home from the grocery store.”
Matt came into the kitchen carrying a grocery bag in one hand and Tyler in the crook of his free arm. Molly ended the call, and he handed Tyler off to her.
“I’ve got a few more bags in the car,” he said. “I’ll go get them. Are you hungry?”
“I’m starving,” she said.
After they unpacked the groceries, Molly made tuna sandwiches. Matt poured himself a glass of iced tea and gave hers a refill. He also got Tyler into his high chair and cut up his lunch into small pieces. As they ate, Molly told him about her meeting with Hattie and the phone conversation she’d had with Maxim. “I’m going to meet him at Java Jitters at three. I think there’s something he wants to tell me, but he wants to do it in person.”
“Seems to me, if Hattie’s right and Felix was in love with Galina, he should be at the top of your list of suspects. His resentment of Curtis, blaming him for her death . . . he could have snapped and killed him.”
Molly took a bite of her sandwich and chewed. “It’s also possible that over the years his feelings mellowed for Galina, and they weren’t romantic, and he was content having her in his life as a dear friend.”
“Fair point. What about Maxim? Was he angry enough with his father about Hattie moving in that he could have killed him?”
“I hope not.”
“You like him.”
“Yes, I do, and I doubt he’d ask me to investigate his father’s murder if he killed him. But I also know I have to keep an open mind and not lose my perspective. I like Maxim, but I can’t let that cloud my
judgment.”
“He was at the gala ball last night, and he’s been staying with Natasha. He obviously knows the house, and he knows that room with the big window would be the perfect place to push someone out.”
“Being upset about Hattie moving in seems like a poor motive.”
“Revenge then? He blamed his father for his mother’s death, like Felix did?”
Molly ate a potato chip. “That works better. Still, it all seems a bit flimsy as far as motives go.”
Matt fed Tyler a small piece of his sandwich. “Who were you on the phone with when we came in?”
“Oh, that was Mrs. Houghton. I saw a silver sedan parked in front of her house this morning when Lombardi came over, and when I got home, I thought I saw the same car. I walked down the driveway to get a better look at it, but the driver took off. I thought it was a little odd, so I called her. She doesn’t know who it is. Have you seen the car around?”
“Not that I recall,” he said. “Do you think it was a good idea to tell Mrs. Houghton? You know she’ll probably be staring out her window all day looking for it now.”
“She stares out her window anyway.”
“True. You don’t think this car has something to do with the case, do you?”
Molly thought about it. “No. How could it? Curtis died less than twenty-four hours ago, and I saw the car this morning. It seems too soon for it to be connected to his case, don’t you think?”
Matt shrugged. “Unless they were following Lombardi,” he said. “Maybe you should tell him about the car.”
“I will,” she said, “if I see it again.”
Chapter 10
Java Jitters was Molly’s favorite coffee shop, not just because the owner, Joyce “Jazzy” Chen, was a good friend of hers, but because she loved the coffee and pastries and the character of the shop—the brick walls, concrete floors, twelve-foot-high tin ceilings, and soft jazz music playing over the speakers in the ceiling. It was also on Church Street, Burlington’s pedestrian shopping street, and the Treasure Trove was only a short walk away, which made it convenient when she wanted to visit her mother. The coffee shop was usually busy, but midday on a Sunday afternoon, there wasn’t a line at the counter.
