Storm Island: A Kate Pomeroy Mystery (The Kate Pomeroy Gothic Mystery Series Book 1)

by Linda Watkins

  “They’ll be here soon,” he said. “Officer Stubble will probably arrive first, then the boys from the mainland.”

  I nodded. “I need to call my attorney and we should get in touch with Sloane. He’s probably sick with worry.”

  Jeremy nodded. “Here,” he said, handing me the cell. “You call him.”

  He turned away from me then, staring out the kitchen window, and I realized for the first time how deep the chasm between us had become.

  Shaking off that thought, I dialed the carriage house.

  Sloane answered on the first ring as if he’d been sitting on the phone.

  “Katy, Jeremy?” he asked.

  “Yes, it’s me, Katy,” I replied.

  “Are you two all right? Christ, I’ve been worried sick.”

  “We’re okay,” I responded and then gave him an abbreviated version of the events that had taken place at Stormview. “We’re waiting for the police now. Come and wait with us. Just take the path. We’ll meet you at the door.”

  Sloane said he was on his way and hung up.

  I turned to Jeremy. “Can you let him in? I have to call my attorney.”

  Jeremy nodded and walked out of the room.

  I watched him go, feeling suddenly sad, then dialed Matt’s personal line. He didn’t answer right away and I thought I was going to have to leave a message when, suddenly, he picked up.

  “Matt Snyder here.”

  “Matt, it’s Katy … Katy Pomeroy. I think I need you here at Stormview.”

  As with Sloane, I gave him an abbreviated account of what had happened. He listened carefully, then advised that he had an arraignment scheduled and might not be able to get over to the island until later. However, he said, if he couldn’t reschedule, he would get in touch with Detective Branch and give the man a head’s up as to the events that had taken place.

  “I don’t think he’s going to re-arrest you, but if it comes to that, just sit tight. I’ll make sure digital forensics comes with him so they can examine the information on your uncle’s computer.”

  “Thanks, Matt,” I said. “And, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the whole truth before, but I didn’t think you’d believe me.”

  “You may have been right about that. It is a very twisted and bizarre story. But, now, with the computer files, I think all the pieces will fall into place.”

  We spoke a few moments longer, then I hung up just as Jeremy returned with his uncle in tow.

  Sloane’s face was white as a ghost, having just had to walk through the carnage in the great room.

  “Jesus,” he whispered. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Yeah, I know,” said Jeremy, handing Sloane a beer. “Sit. The cops should be here any minute.”

  Officer Stubble did, indeed, arrive a few minutes later. He instructed us to stay put in the kitchen and not venture anywhere near the great room. We gladly acceded to his request.

  “Detective Branch, forensics, and several other officers are on their way over,” he informed us. “They’ll want to question all of you.”

  He went on to inform us of our rights and what to expect when Branch arrived.

  I only half-listened, my mind playing over and over Hettie’s last word, “Roses.”

  Had my mother’s spirit somehow played a part in her sister-in-law’s final act? Had Mom finally exacted revenge for my father’s death and her own?

  It wasn’t long before a squad car and ambulance came squealing into the driveway, sirens blaring. I walked to the window and peered out. Detective Branch emerged from the lead vehicle accompanied by two uniformed officers as several men in hazmat suits exited the bus.

  Not long afterward, an island taxi pulled up behind the ambulance. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Matt get out and pay the driver.

  “That’s my attorney,” I said to Jeremy and Sloane.

  Jeremy eyed Matt critically. “He looks kinda young to be a lawyer.”

  I frowned. Was he jealous?

  “I’d say he’s a couple years older than you,” I replied. “And he’s one of the best criminal attorney’s in the area.”

  Jeremy didn’t respond.

  Matt spoke briefly with Detective Branch, who was standing on the porch steps. Then they entered the manse together.

  The Investigation

  “HI,” I SAID, when Matt entered the kitchen. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

  Matt smiled. “This is a big mess. Two bodies … Raoul and Hephzibah Kassis, your aunt and uncle. Forensics is going to have good time with this one. However, it looks pretty open and shut. She killed him, then killed herself. There’s a team extracting the files from the computer, too, which should corroborate your story.”

  “What about Vlad? Have they arrested him yet?”

  “Vlad? Who’s that?”

  I told him about the Russian, whom I believed was still imprisoned beneath the house.

  “He’s a real sleaze,” I said. “But crafty and dangerous.”

  Matt nodded. “Let me talk to Branch about him. I’ll be right back.”

  He exited the room, leaving Jeremy, Sloane, and I cooling our heels in the kitchen, waiting to be interrogated.

  We didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later, Branch, accompanied by Matt, entered the kitchen, pulled out a chair, and sat at the table with us.

  “Dr. Pomeroy,” he said. “Can someone tell me what happened here?”

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “Okay. Let’s hear it. You have the floor.”

  I took a deep breath. “Okay, but this might take a while. It all started for me with a conversation I overheard back in California...”

  By the time I finished, the crime lab had done their job and the bodies of my aunt and uncle were on their way to the morgue. Branch took custody of the computer files and directed his men to arrest Vlad, who was still incarcerated in the kennels below Stormview. Finally, he pocketed his cell phone, which he had used to record our interview.

  “Okay, Dr. Pomeroy. It looks like we made a mistake arresting you, but I hope you understand why. Your uncle put together a pretty air-tight case against you.”

  “Yes, I know. There were times when even I doubted my sanity.”

  Branch smiled and stuck out his hand. “No hard feelings?”

  I hesitated a moment. He had been a real prick when I was arrested. But that was over now, so I nodded and shook his hand.

  “No hard feelings,” I said.

  Just then the officers emerged from Raoul’s study with Vlad, his hands cuffed behind his back. He gave me a hard glare, then a smile, as he passed by our group on his way out to the waiting squad car.

  “Till we meet again, Dr. Pomeroy,” he said mockingly as he was escorted out the door.

  Branch watched them leave, then turned back to us. “That guy’s a rough customer. Interpol has warrants for his arrest in four other countries. You’re lucky you got away from him.”

  I smiled, thinking about my mother and the flashlight that had mysteriously come to life to show me where the gun lay.

  “I didn’t do it alone,” I said cryptically. “I had help.”

  Jeremy smiled, obviously thinking I was referring to him, and I didn’t abuse him of the notion.

  Branch thanked me again and then addressed the group as a whole.

  “I’m going to need each of you to come down to the station and be interviewed separately. Don’t be alarmed by this request, it’s just routine. And, Matt, I’ll talk the D.A. about dropping the charges against Dr. Pomeroy.”

  Matt nodded. “Good. I’ll get in touch with the judge.”

  They spoke a few minutes more, then Branch escorted us from the property, which would be for some time a “crime scene.”

  We walked back to the carriage house.

  I was exhausted and after a few minutes’ conversation, excused myself and went to the bedroom to lie down.

  I think I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

  Putting
The Pieces Back Together

  THE NEXT FEW weeks were busy ones. I was interviewed multiple times by various branches of law enforcement, both local and Federal. Vlad, the evidence against him air-tight, accepted a plea deal and, as a result, planned on spending the next thirty years to life in a Federal prison. I was glad of this … I hadn’t relished the thought of facing him on the witness stand.

  Hettie and Raoul’s bodies were cremated and laid to rest with little ceremony. Their joint assets were frozen by the Feds, but since my father was part owner of Stormview, they allowed the estate to pass on to me as per my dad’s will.

  I spent a lot of time with Matt during this period, going over my testimony and sorting out all the legal issues that had to be faced. While our relationship remained professional, I enjoyed the time I spent with him and I believe that feeling was reciprocated.

  However, first and foremost for me, was taking custody of my father’s body and returning it to California for burial. On the trip back, I finally allowed myself the time I needed to grieve. I missed my dad more than I could say.

  The service for him was crowded. Dad had a lot of friends and admirers. Present were not only members of the medical staff from Memorial and beyond, but also several well-known celebrities and the governor of California himself.

  Dad was laid to rest in the plot overlooking the Pacific Ocean, next to my mother, and as I stood saying a final farewell, I pictured them together once again, this time forever. I wondered, however, if she would finally rest or if she would continue to haunt the stone silo and the lands surrounding it. I knew that this was something I would soon find out.

  After the funeral, I traveled north to San Francisco where I met with the attorneys who were in charge of both my father’s and aunt’s estates. I was surprised to learn that Hettie had maintained a separate trust of which I was the beneficiary. It was worth several million dollars.

  When all the legal mumbo jumbo was taken care of and I was assured that I would never want for anything again, I went back down south to L.A. to tender my resignation from the residency program. While there, I had the distinct pleasure of seeing the Feds confront and arrest the man who started all this for me – Dr. Conway. Seeing him handcuffed and taken away in disgrace brought a smile to my face and gave me the closure I needed.

  My plans now were to return to Storm, turn the first floor of the manor house into a clinic, and hang out my shingle. I would live in the place that was now “home” to me … the carriage house.

  Before returning to the island, however, I took time to meet with my nurse friend, Steve, for lunch. He looked tired. Six months earlier, his partner of fifteen years had been diagnosed with a rare form of cancer – a form that often proved fatal. Steve had taken a leave of absence from Memorial to care for him in his final days and was now reluctant to return to nursing there.

  “I feel like I need something new,” he said. “Something fresh.”

  I thought for a moment, then reached out and took his hand. “How about an island off the coast of Maine?”

  He looked at me, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, like I told you. I’m giving up surgery and going into family practice. The island needs a physician and it’s home for me now. I’m turning the first floor of Stormview – the big house – into a clinic. I’ll need a nurse or two to help me run it.”

  He looked surprised. “You mean me?”

  I laughed. “Yeah, you. I’ll match whatever Memorial’s paying you and I can offer free room and board, too. The house is huge and the bedrooms on the second floor are all vacant. And, I could use a good friend nearby.”

  “It gets awful cold up there in the winter, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, and there’s the dreaded white stuff – snow. But the house has central heating and there are tons of fireplaces. Just think how cozy it would be, sitting by the fire, watching the snow fall over the ocean.”

  He grinned. “You’re painting a very pretty picture, you know.”

  “And, you could help me with the design. I’m all thumbs when it comes to that. It wouldn’t just be my clinic … it would be our clinic. Say, yes, please.”

  Steve took a sip of his wine and stared down at his hands. Finally, he straightened up and looked me square in the eye. “Okay, yes, I’ll join your clinic staff. It might be fun to live on an island for a while.”

  We spent the rest of lunch talking about the clinic layout and I wasn’t surprised that Steve had a much better grasp of work and patient flow than I did. He also had much-needed input concerning the appropriate software system to install.

  I promised to include him in all meetings I had with the architecture firm commissioned to do the work. The same firm was installing a heat pump and other amenities at the carriage house so that I could survive the winter months without freezing to death.

  Steve said it would take him two to three weeks to tidy things up in L.A. and I told him that would be fine and that, if necessary, we would include him by Skype in any meetings regarding the clinic renovation.

  We hugged as we parted, each promising to be in touch soon.

  A few days later, after I’d tied up all the loose ends of my former life, I left for Storm. My flight took me to Chicago, where I changed planes for the final leg of the flight to Portland International Jetport.

  Anxious to return, I did admit that the time away had been cathartic. But, now, I was eager to start my new life as a country doctor.

  Sitting on the plane, I had time for thought and I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes.

  Jeremy.

  Our relationship, after the deaths of Raoul and Hettie, had been strained. Hanging between us was the fact that he’d doubted me at a time when I’d needed him most. I knew it was something we should to talk about … get out in the open … but neither of us seemed to be inclined to do so. And there were times when he seemed distant – far away – and there was nothing I could do to bring him back.

  However, I knew he cared for me, as I cared for him, and I hoped we could finally move beyond what had happened and start over.

  One thing I did know, however, was that I was no longer the same young woman who had arrived on Storm that summer. That woman had been lonely, insecure, and seeking something or someone to fill a void that had loomed inside of her since she was ten years old. The events on Storm had changed all that. I had taken my destiny firmly in my own hands and, by doing so, had become my own woman … a woman who would no longer seek out approval from a man or be dependent on having one always by her side.

  And then there was Matt…

  While we maintained a purely business relationship, we had become friends and I enjoyed the time I spent with him. After my legal entanglements were straightened out, he agreed to help me in a project I was planning. I wanted to put some of the money Hettie had left me to good use. As a result, we were now in the beginning stages of assembling an investigative team that would delve into Raoul’s files in an effort to locate and re-home as many of the poor girls who had been kidnapped and sold as possible.

  I smiled, thinking about this and about my new clinic. My life was so full. What could possibly go wrong now?

  Starting Over

  WORK ON THE clinic began shortly after I arrived. The architects and I conferred with Steve over Skype and, in no time, we had a working plan. I was in charge until Steve arrived, at which time I planned on turning supervision of the construction crew over to him. The workers were also busy at the carriage house, blowing in insulation, installing a heat pump, and fitting a soapstone-sided woodstove into the fireplace. These additions, they assured me, would keep me warm and cozy during the cold winter months in Maine.

  In addition to the remodeling at Stormview, I also commissioned a local carpenter to build several raised beds on the north side of the big house. I’d been spending a good deal of time in the little silo, reading Maude Pritchard’s papers, many of which included herbal poultices and recipes for various aches,
pains, and chronic diseases. I planned to utilize these ancient cures in my practice, combining a holistic approach with that of traditional medicine. The raised beds would allow me to grow all my own certified organic herbs and spices.

  During this period, Jeremy and I continued to see each other, but not as frequently as before. While I enjoyed and looked forward to the times we were together, he continued to be distant and I wondered if he were pulling away from me. I went out with Matt a couple of times, but, after the second date, it was obvious we were destined to be good friends and business associates, not lovers.

  In early September, Jeremy called to say that he was going to the mainland for a few days and would be in touch when he got back. When I asked him what was up, he hedged a bit, saying only that he had business in Bangor. When I hadn’t heard from him for several days, I tried his cell but it went immediately to voice mail. I left a message, but had little hope that he would return it soon.

  Days passed and I threw myself into work on the clinic. I spent long hours there, hoping that by the end of the day, I would be too exhausted to think. But, tired or not, I often ended up with Jeremy on my mind and, frequently, cried myself to sleep.

  September ended and there was still no word from him. Our grand opening, scheduled for October 31st was rapidly approaching and I was swamped with work. On the 5th, I came home late from the clinic. My backpack was full to bursting with blueprints and long lists of recommendations from Steve that I planned to review that evening. After a light meal of soup and salad, I settled down on the couch in front of the woodstove to work. The house was warm and cozy despite a steady downpour outside and I was glad the renovations to the carriage house had already been completed.

  I was immersed in Steve’s memos when I was startled by someone pounding on the front door. I started to get up but my legs were hopelessly tangled in a quilt I had wrapped around myself.