by Lauren Berg
"We love it," she said. "Mr. Ferrimo, I was wondering if you would mind answering a few questions about Ms. von Farron for me. As you know, I had an interview scheduled with her yesterday morning, and since I wasn't able to do that, I'd like to write a nice piece on her for my paper."
"Absolutely, please sit down." The hotel manager gestured to the chair across from his desk, and he leaned on his elbows while he waited for her to sit down. "You know, you are such a breath of fresh air. Most of the reporters here are only trying to dig for dirt."
“I don’t want to make this time any more difficult for those who cared about her than it already is,” Laura said, feeling a shiver of guilt run up her arms as she said the words. She didn’t want to besmirch Edith von Farron’s name, but her motives were hardly pure.
“What can I tell you?” Vincent Ferrimo leaned farther forward, and raised his eyebrows at her expectantly.
Laura pretended to look down at her phone. She needed him to think that she had some kind of plan for this interview. Leading questions. Leading questions. Right, she thought. Slowly she said, “Well, why don’t you start by telling me about how you began working for the von Farron family?”
Ferrimo leaned back in his chair, and a contemplative look crossed his face. “Well, I began working at the von Farron resort in Myrtle Beach, North Carolina. I was just out of hospitality school, and I knew that I needed to start with the best.”
“What was your job? Did you get a management position right away?” Laura typed in her impressions of him into her phone. He really did seem nostalgic as he talked about his early days in the hotel business.
“No, of course not. Only the truly lucky get that. I was a front desk clerk. But I worked constantly, and pretty soon I was made an assistant manager. It was a stroke of luck really that made my career.” He smiled at her, and she smiled back.
“Can you tell me about it? Does it have anything to do with Ms. Von Farron?” Laura knew that this was the beginning of the story.
“It does,” Vincent said with unbridled excitement. “She came to conduct an inspection of the hotel. She has always been very hands on with her business, you know. Anyway, she came in, and the manager was supposed to take her around the property, but unfortunately he came down with a bad case of food poisoning. So, I got to take her around.”
Something about the self-pleased, cat-that-ate-the-canary way that he spoke set off alarm bells in Laura’s head. “What happened next?”
Sometimes all she had to do was ask the leading question. People loved to talk about themselves, and Laura had learned that if she waited long enough the guilty always incriminated themselves. True, that hadn’t exactly happened with Lawrence. As soon as he had caught on to her questions, he’d thrown Vincent under the bus. She still had a lot to learn.
“Well,” Vincent said as his eyes brightened, “I must have done something right because I impressed her enough that she made me the manager of the resort. I worked there for five glorious years before Ms. von Farron had bigger and better plans for me.”
“Where’d she send you?” Laura had to admit that it was interesting to listen to him talk about his job history. She’d been able to search most of it, but the way Vincent spoke about it, she knew that he truly appreciated what he did. She hoped that she felt that way about reporting one day in thirty years.
“Everywhere. I became her right hand man for ten years. She sent me out whenever a property needed to be turned around. She took me along on every inspection. It was fabulous.” Vincent fell silent, and he shook his head. “It wasn’t meant to last, though.”
“What do you mean?” Laura asked.
Vincent pursed his lips. “Well, to be honest, I left the von Farron’s service for a few years. It was an unfortunate time in my life.”
“Do you mind if I asked what happened?”
“I’d rather not talk about it,” Vincent said softly.
Laura was screaming on the inside. She had almost got him talking about the rift, and now she’d shut him down. How could she have been so stupid? If he hadn’t been staring at her she might have hit herself in the forehead with her phone. Instead she nodded. “I understand completely. Would you mind me asking what brought you back to working with the von Farron’s?”
A faint smile flickered across Vincent’s face. “Edith. She actually showed up at the resort where I was working. She tried to talk me into coming back, but she knew I couldn’t work with her husband. Her husband at the time, I should say. He and I … didn’t see eye to eye. When I refused, she sabotaged my job.”
“What? I can’t believe that,” Laura said. “Everything I’ve heard about her is that she’s the most upright kind of business woman.”
She felt the adrenaline of interest at this juicy bit of gossip. Nowhere online had she read anything about this. She actually leaned forward in her seat. Before she could stop herself she said, “I always thought Edith was above all of that.” She flinched. Sounding over eager was the best way to make an interviewee clam up.
Much to her relief, Vincent smiled, and then chuckled. “Normally I’d agree with that statement, but apparently I was worth poaching. I should have said that I’d come back if she divorced the jerk. That was hindsight, and of course you know what they say about that. Twenty-twenty, and all that.”
“I won’t include it, but can you tell me what she did? I just find this fascinating.”
“Alright, but only because I trust you,” Vincent said, wagging his finger at her. “She intercepted all the calls from the guests, and sent the wrong people to solve the wrong problems. The hotel was a mess for the entire weekend, and I didn’t know what was going on.”
“How did she do that? I mean, that’s CIA level hacking or something.” Laura chuckled and shook her head.
“She never revealed her sources, but she had help. And let me tell you, she certainly had the funds to do it.” Vincent shook his head.
Laura thought about that for a moment. “Did she ever use her funds for anything else?”
“What do you mean?” Vincent asked. She saw him furrow his brow, and she rushed to eliminate any doubt that he had.
“Philanthropic interests, that kind of thing.” Laura crossed her fingers under the table, hoping Vincent could be steered down a different path, unlike Lawrence this morning.
Vincent nodded. “Yes. Yes. There are all sorts of charities that Ms. von Farron supported. Those are a matter of public record. There are also many that she didn’t want broadcast.”
“Like what? I mean, I’m not trying to pry, but it seems like a good thing to include in an upbeat article about Ms. von Farron.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt her reputation any to have people know. Well, let’s see, there was one place in particular that she really loved. It’s a little adoption agency. Angel Hearts, I think it’s called. I suppose you should check with them to see if they want to be included in the article, but she’s been supporting them for years.” Vincent leaned back in his seat, and looked out the window.
“So how would you characterize your relationship with Ms. von Farron today?” Laura looked back down at her phone. She used that trick when she was trying to transition, and Lawrence had caught her that morning, but she was pretty sure that Vincent was so caught up in his own world that he wouldn’t notice.
“Oh, Edith and I are very close. I spend a good deal of time with her and her current husband.”
“That’s right, Benjamin? How would you say your relationship with him is? I mean, again, not to pry, but I assume he’d figure nicely into a piece about Ms. von Farron.” Laura tossed her words out as nonchalantly as she could.
“Benjamin and I have actually been working on a business venture together, so I suppose you could say the two of us are rather close.” Vincent smiled, but his eyes were glazed and Laura knew that he wasn’t paying attention to her anymore.
“That sounds interesting,” she said, prodding him to talk more.
Vincent
nodded. “Oh it is. I just wish Edith could have seen the potential in it.”
“Did Benjamin see the potential in it?”
“Right away. He’s much more of a visionary than Edith is. As much as I love the old girl, I think she’s stuck in her ways.”
“What was the idea?”
“Well, Benjamin and I came up with a new form of bedding for the hotel. We call it Edible Bedding. The name is troublesome because you can’t actually eat the linen, but it all looks like food.” Vincent looked at her expectantly.
“I’m sorry, come again? It looks like food? I’m not sure I understand.” Laura smiled politely, and tipped her head to one side.
"Well, for example, our Italian room idea would have had sheets that looked like spaghetti noodles, and the blanket would have been a dollop of marinara sauce, and the pillows would have been meatballs. You see what I'm saying? In our American room we were planning on having a hamburger bed. The pillows would be pickles." Vincent talked with his hands, miming the food in the air. He was more animated than he had been the whole interview.
"So, what happened?" Laura asked. She thumbed a few notes into her phone, but Vincent didn't notice.
Vincent frowned. "Well, to be honest, I don't really know. Benjamin was going to pitch our idea to her this past Friday, but he said he never got the chance. Apparently she already knew, and she cut off our funding before we even got to ask."
"Was Benjamin mad about it?" She held her breath as she waited for him to respond.
"Furious. Benjamin has a quick temper. I think that’s because he has so many outside interests." Vincent looked like he was about to say more when his phone rang. "Excuse me, I have to take this."
"Of course, thanks for the interview," Laura said as she stood up. She reached across the desk to shake his hand. Vincent gave her a distracted smile as he waved goodbye.
Laura slipped out of his office into the lobby, and exhaled. She knew who her next interview had to be. From across the lobby she caught a glimpse of Cain exiting the hotel. She felt a pull to follow him, and she wasn't sure if it was because of his flirting earlier or if she still didn't trust him. Either way she found herself stepping out into the sunny Bayview day.
CHAPTER SIX
Cain moved fast. Laura could hardly keep up with him he went so quickly. She kept a half block behind him, and she felt like she was following a suspect. She'd done this before, much to the chagrin of her boss and family. The thought of her last successful sleuthing, though, propelled her forward. She had much more at stake this time, and she knew she needed to find out whether or not she could trust Cain.
He turned down a side street that led toward the harbor. Amy had dragged Laura there after their spa appointment yesterday. The salty breeze had been refreshing, but all Laura could think about was how Edith von Farron had set out from that very spot, never to return.
Laura swallowed as they approached the pier. She stopped beside a little snack shack that had been closed for the season. From her vantage point she could watch Cain without being seen. He ambled down the length of the pier, and stopped at the end. Leaning against the rail he stared out at the water, and she wondered if he was reflecting as she had yesterday. That thought made her frown. It was overly romanticized.
Just as she was thinking that she should head back to the hotel, she saw a man she recognized as Benjamin Whitaker, Edith von Farron's seventh husband, striding down the dock toward Cain. Laura's heart sped up. Just the man she wanted to see, and somehow Cain had gotten the interview before she did. That didn't seem fair. She decided to linger a bit longer.
When Benjamin reached the end of the pier, the two men shook hands. They began to talk, but she was too far away to hear what they were saying. She knew she needed to get closer, no matter what. Scanning her surroundings, she knew there was no way she could simply walk down the pier without Cain seeing her. She contemplated going underneath where there was a generous amount sand, but she knew the surf would be too loud.
The fact that she couldn’t get close didn’t stop Laura from pulling out her phone. She flipped to the camera, and zoomed as far as she could. As she pressed record, she figured that if nothing else she would have documented evidence that Cain had met with Benjamin.
Through the camera she watched the two men get into what she characterized as a rather heated conversation, complete with wild hand gestures. She knew she needed to get closer, but how?
She rounded the back of the little hut, and peered down at the beach below. Sighing, she realized that there wasn’t much use attempting to go down there, but as she was turning around she saw that the edge of the pier had a little ledge. Maybe she could … she was glad she was wearing sneakers because she was going to attempt the craziest thing she had done in a long time.
She carefully stashed her purse in a little nook she found in the building, and tucked her phone into the crack beside it. There was no way she could climb with anything in her hands or pockets. Gripping the edge of the dock with one hand, she stepped onto the ledge. Moving slowly at first Laura worked her way out over the steep drop of the sand, and when she got over the crashing waves her stomach flip flopped. She didn’t know if she wanted to continue, but if she wanted to get the story, she knew what she had to do.
She finally arrived at the end of the pier, and swung herself around the corner. Her hand missed the edge of the dock, and for a moment all the breath was snatched from her body as her right arm flailed in the air. When she managed to grab the rough wood plank, she stayed still for a whole minute before moving again.
“I don’t understand.” She heard Cain’s voice so she stopped, and strained to hear over the roar of the ocean below. In fact she tried desperately to forget that the water was a straight drop down. “What do you mean spaghetti bedding? Is that like a new pasta dish?”
“Are you an idiot?” Benjamin asked. “I’ve explained this three times. Vincent Ferrimo and I came up with a food based linen idea that would have transported the von Farron properties to the next level.”
“Okay, and Edith didn’t see it that way?”
“She said she was willing to try it in some of her discount chains, but not at the higher end resorts. She said the idea was too kitschy or maybe she said kitcheny, I can’t remember. It doesn’t matter, when I pushed her to implement it here at the Seaside Inn, she laughed. She actually laughed in my face. She gave me some crap about the Seaside Inn being above such trends. I mean, have you seen the rooms in that place? It’s like they’re stuck in the nineteen-sixties or something.” Benjamin slammed a hand against the rail, and Laura gasped.
“I think the hotel is styled in the nineteen-forties, actually,” Cain said.
“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. The fact of the matter is that she wouldn’t fund me.” Benjamin sulked. Laura almost laughed. He sounded like a petulant child, but then she supposed he sort of was. She’d read that he was twenty-five if he was a day.
“I bet that pissed you off,” Cain said. She could hear the same nonchalant coaxing that she used when she was conducting an interview.
“Of course it did,” Benjamin said, still sounding sulky. “She promised we’d talk more about it after her cruise. I was only asking for one hundred thousand dollars.”
There was a long silence, and Laura wondered if they were leaving, but then Cain said, “Come on, man. We both know that’s not what it was all about. Tell me what else was going on. You promised. That’s the only reason I agreed to meet you here.”
“I told your editor that I’d be the source of a great story on Edith. I never promised to do anything else.” Benjamin sounded less angry. Maybe less certain of himself.
“Look, Ben, I’m done here. If you can’t be straight with me, you aren’t a credible source, and we have nothing to talk about.” Laura strained to listen, and she heard the sound of footsteps retreating down the dock.
“Wait!” Benjamin’s voice cracked slightly as he yelled after Cain, who returned a moment
later. “I’ll tell you the truth, but all of this has to be off the record.”
“Fair enough. As long as I get the story.”
“I met some guys a long time ago, and I made a business deal with them.”
“Like the one you made with Ferrimo?” Laura could hear the edge in Cain’s voice.
“More like I owed them money from some … unfortunate debts that I owed. Regardless, they came up with a stellar idea for a place where people could come to gamble without the restrictions of US law.”
“So you have a gambling problem, and you owed money. Are you talking about a casino boat? Did you want to use Edith’s money to invest? Did she say no?”
Benjamin huffed in annoyance. Laura could almost picture him. She tried to raise herself up to get a better look, but a shoe edged in to view and she knew that she couldn’t risk being caught. She wedged herself deeper under the overhang, her breath hitching as waves crashed below her sending spray into the air.
“She never knew. Crazy old bat was more concerned about herself than anyone around her. And this plan was bigger than a dumb boat. We’re talking movable real estate, a towable island. Move your land to international waters and the rules change. Get some heat and move it again.” Benjamin sounded pleased with himself.
“That sounds … complicated and expensive,” Cain commented.
“Those guys have the capabilities, they just need the respectable name behind this enterprise and of course the money I owe them. But I had to deal with Edith somehow. I started with this food linen project to check the water. I had bet that she had an unlimited trust in her old friend and old idiot Ferrimo. But obviously Edith never agreed, so here we are.” Benjamin sounded so dejected that Laura almost felt sorry for him.
“Not to be crass, but you stand to inherit far more than that now and you can do whatever you want, won’t you?”
