A House to Die For (A Darby Farr Mystery) (16 page)

The kitchen at Fairview had always been a bit of an eyesore,
constructed as it was in the days before cooking was elevated from a servant's chore to an owner's pastime. Darby was curious as to
whether Mark and Lucy had updated the gloomy space, so she
headed to the back of the house to take a peek. The sight of the
ocean, however, made her stop dead in my tracks. I didn't notice
this incredible view when I was scrambling to save Lucy, she thought.
Fairview possessed an almost 300-degree vantage point, thanks to
the jutting promontory of Pemberton Point. Here was the open
ocean in all of its glory, crashing against the boulders and sending up a spray that misted the wild roses along the cliff. At one
point there had been a low fence along the jagged edge, but it was
now gone. What was the point? It had been generations since small
children had played on the pristine lawns of Fairview.

Darby pulled her eyes away from the view and gazed back at
the house. The wraparound porch took full advantage of the scenic setting, and she recalled the solid line of wicker rockers that
had once been positioned like sentries along the side of the house.
There had been a ping-pong table at one end of the porch, where
Lucy and Darby tested their lightning fast serves in endless world
championships. Darby sighed. The past was all around her, and
she felt it pulling her down, toward depths of sadness that would
swallow her like quicksand.

She jogged to the far side of the house, where a stand of blooming lilacs tried valiantly to prevent the erosion that was wearing
away at the hill. Here the cliff was very sheer, and she marveled
once more that Lucy had not been critically injured. Whoever
bought Fairview would need to put in a retaining wall as soon as
possible, Darby thought.

She was backing away from the cliff when she heard a low
chuckle. Her scalp prickling, she turned slowly toward the noise. Planted squarely between where Darby stood at the rocky edge
and the corner of Fairview was Soames Pemberton.

"Well, well," he said softly, moving toward her like a predator
stalking prey.

Darby tried not to show her panic.

"Stay away from me, Soames," she yelled. She estimated the
space between the big man and the edge of the cliff and tried to
see the best way to safety.

He paused momentarily and seemed to weave back and forth.
His pupils were glossy black circles and he licked his lips several
times as if parched. He's high, thought Darby, knowing that made
him even more dangerous. She felt her mouth go dry, waiting for
him to make the first move.

Soames Pemberton lunged quickly for a large man, and he dove
at Darby, forcing her to dodge him, her heel teetering on the edge of
the grass and sheer cliff. Quickly she regained her balance and darted
to his left, as fast as she was able, away from his grasp. His huge paw
of a hand grabbed her T-shirt, and she twisted, the material stretching and then finally coming free from his hand. As tempted as she
was to deliver a resounding kick that would break his jaw, she knew
her smartest course of action was to run, and run quickly.

Without another thought she began sprinting.

He gave a grunt and she felt him behind her, in hot pursuit,
but she forced herself not to waste precious time by looking back.
Make it to the woods, she told herself. Just make it to the woods ...

It was a sprint of pure adrenalin, a quarter of a mile covered in a
blur. The woods rose up before her and she dodged the trees, barely
slowing her speed. Somewhere there was a path she and Lucy had
taken through these same pines, a path that led back to the main road. She was tiring, but she didn't dare slow her pace. She leapt
over a huge maple that had fallen in a storm and grazed the back of
her calf, barely feeling the injury. She was in flight mode, with every
cell in her body telling her to escape.

A huge mass of granite appeared before her and Darby racked
her brain to figure out where she was. The outcropping was dimly
familiar. As tall as a two-story building, there were small caves between the boulders that she and Lucy had imagined held pirate
treasure. Suddenly she knew she had missed the start of the path,
and had run past Fairview's boundaries, into the abutting property,
an undeveloped swath of forest belonging to the heirs of Thaddeus
Pemberton. She had blundered into Soames Pemberton's lair.

All she saw of his leap from the boulder was a flash of something silver in the edge of her peripheral vision. He landed on her
calves, sending her thudding to the ground with a force that could
have knocked her out. His thick arms encircled her legs and he
whipped her over onto her back, grunting with satisfaction at her
terror. She felt the full weight of him on her pelvis as he pinned her
arms out to their sides. Never before had Darby felt so trapped.

"Get off me," she spat, twisting to free herself from his body.

He grunted. "You shut up before I slit your throat. You're the
enemy, you hear me? And you're dead... "

"I am not the enemy," Darby yelled. "I'm here to bury my aunt.
Tina called me and asked me to come. I didn't do anything to you.'
She struggled against his considerable weight, not daring to look
at his expression.

"You are the enemy," he insisted. "You've been hiding in these
caves ...

He let go of Darby's right arm and grabbed his knife. Before he
could use it, Darby rammed her knuckle into his glassy eyes with
all the force she could muster. He cried out in pain and released
her arms, but still she could not wriggle free ...

The crack of gunfire echoed through the trees, and faster than
Darby could have imagined, Soames Pemberton sprang up and
fled. Slowly Darby rose to a sitting position, her head thudding,
and looked for the source of the sound. She knew whomever had
fired the gun was close by and that she was in great danger. Painfully, she rose to her knees.

A branch cracked to her left and Darby froze.

"You okay?" It was Charles Dupont, wearing jeans and his uniform shirt. He stopped beside her and squatted.

"I asked if you were okay."

Darby nodded. "What are you doing here?"

"Me? Why I'm a police officer, the chief to be exact, out doing
my job. What are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to stay out of
the way?"

"I was out for a run. I know a path that goes through these
woods... "

"This land belongs to Soames Pemberton, and surely a smartypants real estate agent like yourself knows that. You are meddling
in my investigation, and you almost got yourself killed."

"You took a shot at Soames. Were you trying to hit him?"

The chief snorted. "If I'd been trying to hit him, he'd be lying
here dead. I fired my weapon to get him off you."

Darby rose to her feet gingerly. Her ankle was twisted, but she
wasn't about to tell the chief of her injuries.

His eyes narrowed. "You're hurt."

"No," she said, trying not to wince. "Not really."

"You could have fooled me. That leg needs to be looked at."
He scanned the woods briefly then seemed to make up his mind
about something. "Soames isn't going anywhere we can't find him,
not on this island anyway." He paused a moment. "Come on, I'll
take you over to the Coveside Clinic. They open at seven, and you
need some attention."

Because she was in no shape to argue, Darby grudgingly acquiesced.

The Coveside Clinic was a trim, modest building with a wooden
sign and a handicapped accessible ramp. "Look," Chief Dupont
commanded, indicating a bronze marker by the front door. Darby
exited from the police cruiser and walked closer to the marker. The
inscription thanked a "longtime islander" for her "dedication and
generosity."

"Your aunt," the chief said quietly. "She built this place."

Inside, the clinic was cheerful and clean. A nurse was on duty
at the front desk, and Chief Dupont approached her, motioning
for Darby to sit down. Darby complied and was surprised to see
the familiar face of Laura Gefferelli enter the waiting room.

"What are you doing here?" Laura asked, a concerned expression on her face. "Everything okay?"

"I had a fall while I was running," Darby lied. "What about
you?"

"Oh, I see a few counseling patients, and one or two prefer the
early morning hours," she said. "It's pastoral counseling, incorpo rating the spiritual aspect into your more typical sessions. Lucy
volunteers here too. Are you waiting to see Yvette?"

"If she's the Physician's Assistant, then yes."

"She'll be with you in a moment." Laura gave Darby a searching look. "Mind if I sit down?"

Darby nodded. "Be my guest."

Laura sighed. "I've been thinking about you, Darby. About
what's happened since you left California. There's quite a lot on
your shoulders, and I want you to know that I'm here if you need
to talk about anything."

Darby smiled. "Do I look that bad?"

Laura gave a kind smile. "It's not your outward appearance I'm
concerned with. It's what's inside, the things you may be dealing
with on top of your aunt's death, and now this." She hesitated. "May
I give you a piece of advice? Allow yourself to grieve for Jane Farr,
and help me with the funeral preparations. It's part of the healing
process, and it isn't time you'll get back, Darby. I know you want to
help Mark and Lucy, but please, think about what I'm saying."

"I will."

A fresh-faced young woman wearing white scrubs and carrying
a clipboard entered the room. "Darby Farr?" she inquired.

Darby rose to follow the PA into the patient room. Her ankle
throbbed and she found it difficult to walk.

"That looks like a sprain," said Laura. "You may need crutches."

Darby groaned and accepted the help of the PA, feeling the eyes
of Laura Gefferelli and Charles Dupont follow her as she left the
waiting room.

Half an hour later, pain killers in hand, Darby was back at Jane's
house to shower and change. After a quick cup of coffee, she
wrapped up her throbbing ankle and drove to the office of Near &
Farr, where a distraught Tina Ames met her at the door.

"What did that asshole Soames do now?" Tina ran a well-manicured hand through the tangle of red curls on her head. Darby
could see she was fuming. "What's this I hear, he cornered you
again?"

"Calm down. I went over to Fairview and he surprised me. I'm
fine."

Tina yanked off an orange jacket and sat down at her desk.
"You're hurt. Did he break something?"

"I twisted my ankle. I'll ice it, and it will be fine."

"I suppose I should tell you the whole story with him and me,
because I can't help but feel some of his anger is misdirected at
you.

"If you'd like."

She sighed and shook her head. "I was foolish to ever get mixed
up with him, and now that I'm dating a nice guy like Donny, I really wonder about my sanity. What did I ever see in Soames, God
only knows. Anyway, I was going through a bad patch and found
myself at the Eye one too many nights, half in the bag and feeling sorry for myself. Soames was always there and he bought me a
couple of drinks. I started to tell him things and believe it or not,
he listened. One thing led to another and before I knew it, I was in
his trailer on a stinky old mattress, and not just once, either." She
gave Darby an embarrassed grimace.

"We've all done things we regret, Tina."

"I can hardly stand to think about it, but there it is. Finally
I woke up one day and came to my senses. I told him we were
through and he didn't much like that"

"What did he do?"

"He followed me around, hid out behind the bushes, you know,
creepy stuff like that."

"He stalked you." Darby felt her anger toward Soames Pemberton rising again.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. I reported him to the police.
Not that it did much good. Just made him angrier. He surprised
me one night at my mother's house and beat me up pretty good. I
went back to the police and this time they listened."