Take a Dive for Murder (5 page)

Jamie

P.S. Remember, good analysis is like a photo. It always reveals the truth.

***

Carrie turned the letter over, but there was nothing on the back. Through her tears, she read the letter several more times. She was looking for some clue in the words as to what Jamie was investigating, but it just wasn’t there. The only thing the letter did imply was that Jamie might be working on a story.

The next question was what to do with the letter. It was too dangerous to keep it
there. Then she had an idea. She went to the desk and wrote a short note explaining where she was and asked for the enclosed envelope to be held until she was able to retrieve it. She enclosed Jamie’s letter in a new envelope and placed it in a second envelope addressed to her parents in Pear Cove, a resort town about seventy-five miles away from TriCity.

She slept with the envelope under her pillow. But sleep
didn’t come easily. Her restless dreams were of Jamie swimming in the harbor and Ascot running through the streets of TriCity. In each case they were trying to escape from someone wanting to murder them.

When Carrie awoke the next morning, it was only four-thirty. Unable to go back to sleep, she took the time to write down a couple of notes for her mystery book based on her recent dreams. She wondered if all writers dreamed of their characters.

When the first light showed through the windows, she put on her jogging outfit and left the house. The morning was beautiful. She liked March mornings, with their promise of spring. The air was crisp, but not so cold that you couldn’t enjoy running. She jogged into the small village near the Faraday house. The village consisted of a deli/convenience store, a garage, an antique shop and craft store, an interior design shop, a pub, and a post office. She jogged around the village a couple of times to be sure her movements weren’t being observed. When she was sure no one else was around, Carrie went to the post office and dropped her letter in the mailbox. She wasn’t
a dedicated runner, so she decided to walk briskly on her trip back to the house. Her character Ascot was a good runner. After all, Ascot was an agent and he often needed to run to escape the danger he was facing. Carrie was a photographer and there was no danger in her life so walking was just fine for her. Plus, walking allowed her to clear her mind and reflect on the words in Jamie’s letter.

What did he mean by waiting for the person to stop? What was this person doing? Did this person kill him? What did he mean by “my things are at the house
”? Did he mean actual clues were in the house? Was Jamie speaking literally or figuratively when he said photos don’t lie? She had lots of questions, but few answers. If Jamie was writing a story, she needed to find out what that story was and then follow his same path of research.

Carrie arrived back at the house as Mary was bringing a tray of coffee to her room.

“Good morning, miss. Mr. Charles saw that you went jogging and thought you might enjoy a cup of coffee when you returned.”

“That was very kind of him,” Carrie said out loud, but wondered where Charles was positioned that he saw her leave the house.

“Miss? Miss Carrie. Are you all right?”

“Oh, yes…yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry, Mary. I was daydreaming for a moment.”

“May I pour you a cup of coffee?” Mary was standing by the tray ready to pour from the two-cup pot.

“Well, that depends. Do I have time to shower before the big breakfast with the family?”

Mary giggled, and the freckles on her face seemed to pop from their hiding place. Then she caught herself and replied, “Oh, yes, miss. Actually, the ‘big breakfast’ is a buffet. Mrs. Faraday thought that would be easier, with today being special. However, it won’t be served for another thirty minutes. I believe you and Mr. Charles are the only ones up and about.”

“I assume today is
‘special’ because it’s the reading of the will?”

“I’m sure
that’s part of it, but I think it has more to do with everyone eating at the same time. Normally, for breakfast each person comes to the kitchen and tells either my aunt or myself what you want, and we prepare it. Mr. Charles, Master Christopher, and Mr. Jamie, when he was here, ate early because they needed to go to school or work. Mrs. Faraday likes her breakfast served in her room at eight, and Suzanne…well, she can appear at anytime.”

“Suzanne is not an early riser?” Carrie asked.

“It isn’t so much she’s a late riser as she’s inconsistent. Sometimes she would eat with Mr. Jamie causing a delay in his schedule. For several days she bothered Mrs. Faraday. Other days she wouldn’t come down at all, which interrupted my aunt’s schedule, waiting to see if she wanted something. Now she tries to time her breakfast to coincide with Mr. Charles. Master Christopher is the only one Suzanne completely ignores, but that’s probably okay with him.”

“Not the best of friends?”

“She treats him like a kid, which he doesn’t like. They seem to have a mutual understanding just to leave each other alone. Plus…” she covered her mouth. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but I just figure there isn’t anything for Miss Suzanne to gain from buttering up Master Christopher. There I’ve gone and said it!”

“Mary, you can say anything you want to me, and it will stay between us. I appreciate your honesty and trust. By the way, do I detect a bit of an accent?”

She smiled. “Yes, miss, I come from Ireland. Mrs. Cavanaugh is my aunt and she’s been with the family for years. She started as a maid, too, but now she’s in charge of the whole house.” Mary said these words with a great deal of pride. “Mrs. Faraday is sponsoring me. I help with the chores around the house, and in return I have a place to stay, plus Mrs. Faraday pays for my college tuition.”

“That’s wonderful. Good luck with your studies and thanks for the coffee.”

“Thank you, miss.” As Mary left, Carrie found herself thinking about Mrs. Faraday. Here again was Mrs. Faraday doing something nice for another person. Mrs. Faraday, whom Carrie always thought of as cold, was sponsoring Mary in this country and providing for her education.

Carrie took a quick shower and then sat down wrapped in her robe to savor Mary’s coffee and think. She initially thought she might be jumping to conclusions that Jamie’s death was murder, but his letter validated that she was on the right track. She would have to stay alert and be careful as she followed in Jamie’s shoes. She finished her first cup of coffee and thought about a second, but then decided,
nothing is going to be accomplished with me sitting here drinking coffee. I wonder what you wear to the reading of a will.

***

Two hours later, Carrie knew she made the right decision about what to wear. Her smoke blue dress with her navy blazer blended in nicely with Mrs. Faraday’s charcoal suit and the other assortment of dark suits worn by the men. Only Suzanne showed up in a brightly colored flowered dress, with little-girl lace trim on the collar and sleeves.

The first order of business was to see how Simpson was feeling. Carrie thought he looked rather intriguing, with the white bandage cocked over his left eye.

“Really, folks, I’m fine. These things happen all the time when you live in a city.” He seemed embarrassed by all the attention. “Perhaps if you could all find seats…”

Carrie took a seat at the back of the room and left the chairs closest to Simpson’s desk for the family. Joel started to take the chair next to Carrie, when Charles slipped in next to her.

“I’m sorry, Joel, did you want to sit here?” Charles asked innocently.

“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll sit next to Stone,” Joel responded.

Carrie turned to look at Charles, but he never turned his head to meet her eyes. Nothing was said between them, and they both sat silently as the proceedings started.

Carrie was surprised by the lack of anticipation from the group because she was certainly experiencing a sense of excitement. She could feel her
rapid heartbeat and there was an empty feeling in her stomach.

“It looks like everyone is here, so let’s get started.” Simpson took his place behind his massive mahogany desk, opened his center drawer, and broke the seal on an oversized blue envelope. He carefully unfolded the legal-size paper and began to read. “I, James Wesley Faraday, being of sound mind and body…”

Sometimes the strangest thoughts would come to Carrie at the oddest moments. She realized she never knew Jamie’s middle name was Wesley. She also knew his classmates at college would have teased him mercilessly if they had known this piece of information. She focused back on Simpson’s reading.

The first bequests were items Carrie classified as mementos rather than items of real value. Jamie left his boxes of personal photos and a Scottish tea set of Emma’s to his mother, a chess set and watch to his brother, his beer stein collection to Joel, several first-edition books to Stone and
a small bequest to Mrs. Cavanaugh. Then Simpson proceeded to the more substantial bequests. Suzanne was left a sum of fifty thousand dollars, with a
thank you from Jamie
“for giving up her career to be my companion.”
Carrie thought this was a generous sum of money, but Suzanne showed no emotion. Simpson continued the bequests by announcing that all of Jamie’s remaining assets, including life insurance, investments, any royalties from his writings, plus Jamie’s share of his father’s estate, were left to Christopher. Charles was named as guardian of Christopher and his newfound wealth.

“I name my brother
, Charles, as administrator of Christopher’s money, until he reaches the age of twenty-five. I know Charles would accept this duty without being asked, but I wanted to make my wishes clear. I want someone who will invest his funds wisely and help Christopher make the right decisions. And, Christopher, be sure to seek Uncles Charles’s help, especially when you don’t think you need it. He will be a dependable and valuable resource for you.”

Carrie glanced briefly at Charles and sensed he was pleased. He reached out and placed a hand on
the shoulder of Christopher, who was sitting in front of him.

“
My last bequest goes to a person I’ve always considered to be one of my very best friends. We may not have been as close in recent years, but I know there isn’t anyone I would trust more with this final bequest. To Carrie Kingsford, I leave my entire collection of past and present work. I ask that she be given complete access to my studio and all of my writings, papers, and photos. Upon review and cataloging of these works, I know Carrie will see the appropriate parties receive them.”

Carrie sat stunned as she heard an intake of breath from several of the listeners seated around her. She felt a cold chill pass through her body. She knew exactly what Jamie was doing. He was giving her access to the same story materials that may have led to his death. Her thoughts were interrupted as Suzanne jumped to her feet.

“This certainly doesn’t make any sense. Why would an award-winning writer leave his works to a picture-taker? After all, I’m the one who traveled and worked with him. If anyone should catalog his work, it’s me.”

“Suzanne, do sit down,” Charles demanded.

Suzanne, realizing her reaction may have been a bit strong, looked around the room and muttered, “You have to admit it really doesn’t make sense.”

After she sat down, the room remained quiet for what seemed to Carrie like an eternity. Then, finally, Joel came to Carrie’s rescue.

“I, for one, am delighted. This means you will be staying with us for the near future and I plan on taking advantage of your extended stay. In fact, let me start right now. Carrie, will you join me for lunch?”

Charles quickly piped in, “Carrie should really return with the family. There are some things we probably need to discuss.”

Carrie ignored Charles’s attempt to regiment her schedule and answered, “How thoughtful of you, Joel. Thank you, I’ll be happy to have lunch with you. However, I need to spend a few minutes with Mr. Simpson. Tell me where you want to meet for lunch and I’ll join you shortly.”

Charles stood by helplessly as Joel took a business card from his wallet.
“Why not come to my office? There’s a garage across the street for parking, and then we can walk to one of the nearby restaurants.”

“Great,
I’ll see you around twelve-thirty?”

“I’ll be waiting.” Joel quickly excused himself and left the room.

Then she turned to Charles and very calmly said, “I’m sure we do need to discuss some items. However, I think it will wait until after lunch, don’t you?”

Charles remained silent. He
didn’t answer her rebuke.
The family left Simpson’s office rather quickly, with Suzanne leading the way.

Jonathan Stone came and took Carrie’s hand. “Carrie, I know that was an awkward moment for you when Suzanne expressed her thoughtless opinion. But I think Jamie’s choice was an excellent one. If I can do anything to help, I hope you will call me. I approved or edited most of Jamie’s story ideas over the years, so I may be of some help in your sorting.
I was thinking there may be additional stories that would be suitable for publishing that I would love to see.” Stone took a business card from his billfold and handed it to Carrie. “I know you probably think of me as part of the family, but after so many years as an editor, most people find me quite objective.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate your words, especially today.”

Jonathan Stone left the office, leaving Hugh Simpson and Carrie alone to discuss the terms of Jamie’s will.