by J A Whiting
“Yes, I believe he mentioned that.” Olivia did not relay the part that Hannigan thought Magdalene was a pest.
“And what did you talk to him about?”
“He said that he had been repeatedly approached by an agency that was very persistent in trying to acquire their beach property.”
Magdalene sat up straight, as if she needed to defend her territory against interlopers. “Did he name the agency?”
“Yes, and I wondered if you knew of them? It was Prentiss Property Management. Michael Prentiss was the man who contacted them.”
Magdalene’s face was screwed up as she thought. “Prentiss. No. I’m not familiar with them.” She went to her desk and tapped at her laptop. “Prentiss,” she said. “New York City? Well, then, I have some competition. New York City.” She looked at Olivia. “Is Mr. Hannigan amenable to the offer?”
“No,” Olivia said, and Magdalene’s face relaxed with relief.
“Good. Well, a client from New York is interested in that property, are they?”
“No,” Olivia told her. “Prentiss is representing the Siderov family.”
Magdalene looked as if she had been slapped. “What?” Her voice was shrill. Her jaw set and her eyes narrowed. “How dare they?”
Olivia looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“How dare those Siderovs use an outside agency. From New York? What does a New York agency know about the seacoast property of Maine? The Siderovs should have come to me, for heaven’s sake.” She sniffed. “Well, I believe that I will pay Mr. Siderov a visit.”
Olivia looked pained. “Oh, no, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Magdalene turned sharply to Olivia. “Olivia, I do know how to run my business.”
“I just mean that I don’t want to be brought up to the Siderovs,” Olivia said. “And I’m sure Mr. Hannigan would prefer not to be mentioned.”
Magdalene moved her hand about in the air. “Oh, my. I certainly know how to be discreet.”
Olivia raised her eyebrows. “I…they…”
“What?” Magdalene asked. “Come, come. What are you stumbling over?”
“I just think that maybe they aren’t the usual customers. They…seem…well, I wonder if they could be dangerous,” Olivia said.
“Olivia, do you have some reason to suspect them to be so?” Magdalene asked with an edge of impatience.
“Not specifically.”
“These people are incredibly wealthy,” Magdalene went on. “Just the sort of client I prefer. They could be the means to many fruitful contacts.”
“Well, if you find out anything about Michael Prentiss and his company, would you let me know?”
“My I ask what your interest is in all of this?” Magdalene said.
“My interest is in the Siderovs’ desires and means,” Olivia said stiffly. “I want to know if they’re up to something. If you or any of your contacts can shed some light on them, I hope you’ll share the information with me.”
“Of course I will. I’ll ask around. Discreetly, mind you.” Magdalene pushed herself out of the chair. The meeting was over. “Thank you for stopping by, Olivia.”
Chapter 21
“Why do you talk me into doing these things?” Brad said. “It’s just like when we were little kids.” They walked along Perkins Road and when they approached the brick driveway to Martin Andersen’s house, they looked ahead and behind for any cars or walkers headed in their direction. The coast was clear, so they jogged down the driveway and to the left side of the massive contemporary structure. A wide bluestone and granite walkway edged around the house to the side facing the ocean. The walkway led to a splendid patio in the middle of a wide expanse of manicured lawn. Granite containers spilled with petunias and impatiens. The edges of the patio were landscaped with sea grasses, hydrangeas, and Rosa rugosa. Chairs and lounges were scattered around the patio. A small lap pool glistened in the early evening light. A teak wood staircase rose to the first level deck along the side of the house facing the Siderov property.
“This is fantastic,” Brad said, taking it all in. “That Hannigan guy is certainly keeping the place up.”
“Come on, Brad. Let’s go up to the first level deck,” Olivia said.
They each carried a small duffel bag. On the deck, they crouched down and gazed at the view from their perch.
“No wonder the Siderovs want this place. Almost every inch of their property is visible from here. The view must be even better from the third level deck,” Brad said.
“Let’s go see,” Olivia suggested. They took the staircases to the third level. “Look at this.” They had a perfect view of the lawn, house, and driveway of the Siderovs. They sat low on the floor of the deck, peering through the slats in the railing.
“Ha,” Brad said. “No privacy at all for those bastards.” He took out two pairs of binoculars from his duffel. Olivia lifted two cameras and a zoom lens from her bag.
“Let’s settle in,” she said.
“Next time we come, let’s bring cushions to sit on. This wooden deck isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world,” Brad said.
Olivia smiled and handed him a sandwich. “Here, this will help you pass the time more comfortably.”
“You think of everything.” Brad munched. “What do we expect to see?”
Olivia sighed. “Who knows? Probably nothing.”
Over the next three hours, the light of the day faded and the Siderov estate became veiled with darkness. Olivia and Brad passed the hours chatting and observing the property, watching servants walk a dog and water hanging flower baskets on the veranda of the Victorian. There was a delivery of fresh flowers from a florist truck. Neither the Siderov father nor son made an appearance.
“I wish we could see inside,” Olivia said.
Brad yawned. “Not unless you acquire x-ray vision any time soon.” He slid backwards along the deck so that he could lean up against the wall of the house. “You should have taken the key to the house that Hannigan offered you.”
“Why?” Olivia asked.
“I need the bathroom,” Brad replied.
Olivia rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Guess what? So do I.”
“Should we call it a night? It’s 11:30 already. I have to get up at five tomorrow morning. Some of us have to work, you know, Liv,” Brad teased.
Olivia put the cameras back in her bag. “Yeah, let’s go. I don’t even know what I’m expecting to see here.”
“We’ll try again tomorrow night,” Brad told her. “We aren’t giving up after one try.” Olivia watched him put the binoculars into his duffel.
“My butt’s killing me from sitting on that damn wood,” Brad said. He waddled along the deck to the stairs in a crouch position so he couldn’t be seen from the Siderov place. He looked so much like a duck that Olivia started to laugh. She clasped her hand over her mouth to keep the sound from traveling.
“I’m glad I’m entertaining you,” Brad muttered.
Olivia nearly gagged on her stifled laughter. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she followed Brad along the deck in the same crouched stance.
***
The next night of spying went the same as the first. Brad and Olivia saw nothing of interest. They sat on the third level deck for hours, with Brad complaining that he forgot to bring a cushion to sit on.
“Go get a cushion from the lounge chairs on the patio,” Olivia told him.
“Nah, I might miss something,” Brad said.
“Same routine as last night,” Olivia said. “The maid brings the dog out. The houseman waters the flowerpots on the veranda. Nothing else happens.”
“The florist’s truck didn’t come tonight. That’s different.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t think they need a floral delivery every day,” Olivia said. “I wish I could see inside that house.”
“I heard that last night,” Brad said.
“I want to know what’s going on. Where’s Siderov? Where’s Alexei? Don’t th
ey ever leave that place?”
“Well, there is a way you could probably find out,” Brad said.
Olivia raised an eyebrow. “How could I?”
“Go out with Alexei again. Return his call.”
Olivia groaned, and said, “You do have a point. I might be able to get into the house again if I went out with him. At the very least, I might learn more about their comings and goings. And after a while; who knows, he might even spill something.”
Brad sat up, his face serious. “I was joking.”
“Even so…it might produce results. And you wouldn’t have to sit on the deck anymore.”
“Liv…I don’t want you seeing him. They’re crazy. It could be dangerous,” Brad told her.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe what?” Brad said.
“Maybe I should see him a couple more times.”
“Has he contacted you?” Brad asked.
“A couple days after the gala…he texted me.”
“What did he say?”
“He said something like he needed to speak to me, it was important,” Olivia said.
“Did you respond to him?”
“No.”
“Wouldn’t he wonder why it took you so long to answer him?”
“I could say my phone died. It…it fell in the toilet. That’s why I couldn’t reply.”
Brad made a face. “That’s lame. He wouldn’t fall for it.”
“Then I’ll say I hadn’t been feeling well, but now I’m better and I’d like to meet for coffee.”
“Leave it. It’s a bad idea. Joe would have a fit.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a truck approaching the Siderov place. They turned to see. It was a delivery truck.
“Another flower delivery?” Olivia asked.
The guy got out of the van carrying two medium size packages. He rang at the front door. The maid answered and the man entered the house with the boxes.
“Who delivers so late?” Brad asked.
“The van doesn’t seem to have anything written on it,” Olivia said. “No company name.”
The guy came out of the house and went back and forth to the truck a few more times carrying boxes.
“Maybe they’re getting ready for some event,” Brad offered.
Olivia considered that. “Last night flowers were delivered. Wouldn’t flowers be delivered the same day if there was an event? To keep everything fresh?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Siderov just likes flowers around the place,” Brad said.
“Can you see if the truck says anything?” Olivia asked. They both raised binoculars.
Brad answered, “I don’t see anything written on the side.”
Olivia was craning to see while staying low on the deck. “I don’t see a telephone number or a website or anything written on the van.”
“There isn’t anything,” Brad said, lowering the binoculars. “Why wouldn’t a delivery company display a name and number? Wouldn’t you want to attract business?”
“If you were a legitimate business,” Olivia said.
The guy came out of the house carrying a big box and placed it in the back of the van. Olivia lifted her camera and focused on him. She managed several shots before he climbed in and started the engine. As it drove away, she focused on the van itself, trying to get the license number. She took several photos before it was out of sight.
“Now what?” Brad asked. “Should we stay longer?”
“I guess not. We don’t even know if Alexei and his father are at home.”
“We’ll come back tomorrow night,” Brad said.
Olivia craned her neck. “Look. Two guys just stepped onto the veranda.”
Brad raised his binoculars. “One looks like Siderov.”
“That’s Detective Brown. Talking to Siderov.” Olivia lowered the binoculars. “Why would Detective Brown be there?”
“How’d he get there?” Brad asked. “There isn’t a car in the driveway.”
“I’m going down. I want to get closer.” Olivia put her binoculars on the deck.
“Liv,” Brad said sternly. “No.”
She packed the cameras in her bag. “I need to hear what they’re saying.”
“What will you do? Just walk up to them? There are security cameras all over.”
“Maybe I can hug the tree line. Somehow get around to the other side of the house. Get closer to the far side of the veranda.”
“I’m going with you.”
“No. That won’t work. If I get caught, I can say I came to talk to Alexei. Stay and watch with the binoculars.”
“This is serious,” Brad said. “You think the Siderovs could be connected to trouble. This isn’t something to take lightly. Maybe the events are all unrelated. Maybe it’s just a bunch of coincidences that have no link to each other. But maybe everything is linked together and the Siderovs are dangerous people. We just don’t know. You can’t put yourself in danger. Think about Joe. What if something happened to you? How could he cope? And so soon after Aggie.”
“I know. You’re right.” Olivia groaned. “I wish I could hear what they’re talking about.”
“Come on, let’s go home,” Brad said. He and Olivia went down the stairs from the deck and followed the walkway leading back to the driveway and out to the street.
Chapter 22
Olivia was in the pharmacy, picking up a few things. As she passed the prescription counter, a man turned around. “Olivia.” Olivia looked up to see Alexei in front of her. She wasn’t happy about it.
“Alexei.”
“How are you?’ he asked. He looked wan and tired.
“Good. I’m good.” Olivia wanted to slink away.
“I’m sorry I upset you at the gala…after showing you the house,” he said, paying the pharmacist and taking his bag. “I wish I could have spent more time with you.” He stayed next to Olivia as she wandered the aisles.
“I know you had to see to your guests,” she said. She took her things to the checkout counter.
“Do you have time for a drink someday?” he asked.
Olivia paid the cashier. She and Alexei stepped out onto the sidewalk.
“I don’t know. I have a lot of work to do.”
“I’d like to talk to you,” Alexei said. He ran his hand over his forehead. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot and his facial features seemed pinched.
“Are you all right?” Olivia asked.
“I’ve had a headache all day,” Alexei answered.
“I was out for a walk along the rocks near your house the other evening,” Olivia lied. “Was that Detective Brown I saw at your house?”
Alexei’s eyes widened. “You were on the rocks?’
Olivia ignored the question. “Detective Brown has been investigating Martin Andersen’s death. Your father knows Brown?”
“Not really.”
Olivia pressed for information. “Do you know why he was there?”
“Something about a license.” Alexei checked his watch. “I know that I’ve gotten off on the wrong foot with you. I’ve been under a lot of pressure…a lot of stress lately. I’d like a chance to start over.”
Olivia didn’t know what to say. Alexei was draining, but she was starting to feel bad for him again.
“Would you meet me for coffee or a drink sometime?” he said. He looked up and down the main street as if he were expecting someone. Beads of sweat showed on his forehead. “I need to chat with you. It’s important.”
“Maybe,” Olivia told him. She wanted to get away from him.
“I’ll give you a call. I need to get going.”
After Alexei had crossed the street, Olivia groaned. Why did Alexei seem so nervous? Please don’t call me.
Chapter 23
“Andrew, dear,” Magdalene called from her office. When he did not respond to her, she heaved herself out of her chair and waddled into the hallway. Andrew had the phone to his ear and raised his index finger to indicate he w
ould be off the phone momentarily. She arrived next to Andrew’s desk just as he disconnected from the call.
“That was my friend in New York. He reaffirms what your colleagues have told you. Initially, Prentiss Property Management was an independent company but it now appears to be a branch of some other corporation. There doesn’t seem to be any recent record of them actually processing any real estate transactions. Their business is mainly property management now. And when my friend called the parent corporation to try to speak with Michael Prentiss, he was told that Mr. Prentiss had passed away.”
Magdalene pursed her lips. “Recently?”
Andrew nodded. “Yes. I looked it up online.” He paused for effect. “It appears to be a homicide.”
“What?”
“Prentiss was found in his townhouse. Shot in the head.”
Magdalene’s eyes widened.
“Perhaps someone was unhappy with him? A client, possibly?” Andrew asked.
Magdalene knew who Andrew was suggesting. Her mind was working. She tapped distractedly on Andrew’s desk, then straightened up.
“Well, enough time spent on Prentiss.” She checked her Rolex for the time. It was almost nine at night. “Andrew, tomorrow morning call the Siderovs for me and…” Her voice trailed off. “Oh, no, never mind. First I need to stop by that new listing I have. Anyway, an unexpected visit to the Siderovs from a neighbor might be the best way to approach them,” she clucked.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Andrew asked. “Perhaps that is one client who should be avoided.”
“I’m sure Mr. Siderov would enjoy a nice chat,” she said, dismissing Andrew’s concern. “Since he has lost his representative, he may be in need of another one.” She started down the hallway to her office. “Call Olivia Miller for me before you leave tonight, will you, Andrew? Let her know what we discovered about Prentiss. She may find it interesting.”
***
Olivia sat at the desk in the antique store, staring at her laptop. The sun had gone down and the shop was getting dark. She was trying to figure out Aggie’s online portion of the business and needed to contact customers to explain Aggie’s passing and why their orders had been delayed. She had spent most of the day tracking and organizing the inventory and packing up items for shipment. She had missed dinner and had a massive headache brewing. Flipping screens to check her email, she found a new one from Paula Adams.
