The Murders at Astaire Castle (A Mac Faraday Mystery) (2 page)

Chapter One

Present Day—Late-October

The two ATVs shot through the shrubbery that had overtaken the south side of Spencer Mountain’s top. The occasional sunray that managed to peak through the clouds above would catch on the gold trim of the black all-terrain vehicles.

To the left side of the road, Police Chief David O’Callaghan scoured the landscape littered with bare trees for any sign of the old woman they were seeking.

Behind him, Mac Faraday searched the right side of the road. A retired homicide detective with more than twenty-five years of police work under his belt, Mac had looked for more than one missing person. His experience, plus his availability, made him a regular volunteer for the Spencer police department when extra manpower was needed—whether it be a missing person or a major murder case.

This search was for an elderly woman with Alzheimer’s who had wandered away from her family at the Spencer Inn. She had been missing for five hours. The sun was starting to set. Soon, the chilly day would turn into a freezing night. Snow was expected and that wasn’t a good thing in the mountains.

They were running out of time.

David held up his hand in a fist to signal a stop and slowed down his vehicle. While waiting for Mac to halt behind him, the police chief removed his helmet and ran his fingers through his blond hair. “Any idea where you are now?” He shot Mac a wicked grin.

Guessing, Mac shot a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the road they had just traveled. “The Spencer Inn is about three miles back that way.”

The police chief nodded his head. “The Spencer Inn is on the north side of the mountain top, looking down on the lake and the valley to the north.”

“But the Spencer Inn owns the whole mountaintop,” Mac said with a question in his voice.

“And you own the Spencer Inn. Therefore, you own this whole mountaintop.” David pressed the button on his Bluetooth to check in with the search party. “Hey, Bogie, we’re up on the southern side of the mountain top. Nothing’s up here. Any luck in your area?”

“Nothing, Chief,” the deputy chief responded.

“We’re going to head back toward the Inn,” David said.

“But we haven’t searched to the end of this road.” Mac pointed further up the trail.

“She’s not up there,” David said in a tone so sharp that it startled him. The police chief shifted his ATV into reverse and backed up.

Even though David O’Callaghan was the chief of police, Mac Faraday was one of Spencer’s wealthiest residents. Descended from the town’s founders, he was unofficial royalty in the small town of Spencer, located on the shore of Deep Creek Lake.

Several years younger, David O’Callaghan had much less law enforcement experience than Mac. Being David’s older half-brother added another level of respect to make the police chief tread softly when issuing orders to the retired homicide detective. With the same tall slender build, their familial relationship was evident to the few who were aware of it. The only notable difference was in Mac’s dark hair with a touch of gray showing at his temples.

“We won’t know unless we look,” Mac argued for going further out the tattered road. “We’ve searched for her in all of the usual areas. You can’t—”

“She’s not there.” David’s hard expression ordered him to drop it.

“We won’t know unless we look,” Mac said in a steady tone.

“Check it out,” David said. “Do you see any sign of humans being in this area in recent years? This road is completely overgrown. No sign of hikers. No one comes over to this side of the mountain. We’re talking about an eighty-six year old woman with Alzheimer’s. She’s fragile and on foot. She’d never be able to make it this far.” With a wave of his finger, he ordered Mac to turn around. “We’re going back.”

The order only served to make Mac more suspicious. “What’s up that road?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you afraid to go up there?”

David whipped off his sun glasses as if to show him the glare in his blue eyes, which were identical to his. “Drop it, Mac. Forget about this road. Forget about this side of the mountain. Now turn your vehicle around and go back to the Spencer Inn and forget about coming back here ever again. Got it?”

Mac met his glare. “And what if I don’t? Like you said, it’s my property. You can’t stop me from going up there to search … or whatever.”

“Don’t make me shoot you, Mac.”

“Shoot me?” Laughing, he shook his head. “Are you serious?”

Any shred of humor that David had when they started talking was now gone. “If you go out that road, there’s nothing I can do to help you. Have I made myself clear?”

The corner of Mac’s lips curled while he studied the intense nature of David’s order. “Very clear.”

They were halfway back to the command post set up at the Spencer Inn when the call came in from Deputy Police Chief Art Bogart: Mac Faraday’s German shepherd, Gnarly, and Archie Monday, Mac’s housemate and “lady love” as he liked to call her, had found the woman.

Gnarly had followed her scent down the mountain trail. He had zig-zagged through the ski slope to the service shed that managed the electronic chair lift. The elderly woman had forced her way into the shed and fallen asleep in the dark corner.

Gnarly was hero of the day, which was why Mac thought it suspicious when he found the German shepherd hiding in the backseat of his SUV.

“We need to go,” Archie whispered in a hurried voice to Mac. “We need to go now.” There was fear in her deep emerald green eyes. Her pink cap was pulled down to cover her pixie blonde hair and ears. With her petite features, the cap made her resemble Tinker Bell in Peter Pan.

“Why?” Mac received part of his answer when he saw the dog lift his head to peer out of the back window. Mac caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a cigar in the dog’s mouth. Seeing Mac, he laid his pointy ears back to rest flat on his head and ducked back down.

Mac heard a crackling voice yell from the open back of the ambulance. “I’m telling you, one of you robbed me. How dare you rob an old woman! You should all be ashamed of yourselves—all of you.” He turned around to peer through the window at where Gnarly was crouched.

Hurrying up to them, David asked, “Mac, Gnarly was the one who found her, wasn’t he?”

Mac hung his head.

The police chief turned to Archie. “That scent that Gnarly was following—we assumed it was her, but could it have been the scent of beef jerky?”

“He did find her,” Archie said. “Whether it was her or the beef jerky she was carrying in her purse doesn’t matter.”

“Thieves! You’re all thieves!” They heard the impact of her purse hitting one of the EMTs.

“Mother, calm down,” her daughter said to her. “I’ll buy you another package of beef jerky on the way to the hospital.”

“What kind of people are you to steal beef jerky from an old woman?” the mother demanded to know.

“Is she going to press charges?” Archie asked David.

“We’ll replace the jerky,” the police chief said.

“Oh, a cover up?” Mac replied.

“Only because it’s Gnarly,” David said. “Bogie is going to buy a pack of jerky on the way to the hospital and slip it into her purse while she’s being treated so they’ll think she missed it.”

“Sounds like you’ve been down this road before,” Mac said.

“Only since Gnarly came to town.” David paused before telling him in a soft voice, “Sorry I was so hard on you out there.”

“How were you hard on him?” Archie wanted to know.

“He threatened to shoot me,” Mac said.

“Well, you must have done something to deserve it,” she said.

“It was nothing.” To change the subject, Mac glanced at his watch. “Hey, it’s late and I’m starved. How about dinner here at the Inn? My treat.”

“I’m meeting Finnegan at her place,” David replied. “But you two go ahead. I have to stop by the cottage to shower and change. I’ll take Gnarly back home to Spencer Manor and drop him off.”

Mac wrapped his arms around Archie. “I guess it’s just you and me, kid.”

Mentally, Mac Faraday would often have to pinch himself when entering the Spencer Inn. Before his inheritance from his birth mother, he would never have been able to afford to set foot in the elegant mountaintop resort.

With its five-star rating, the Spencer Inn was the place to go for romance and luxury. There were a dozen other little out of the way places around Deep Creek Lake that couples could patronize to explore the intimacy of love. For those blessed with wealth, and who desired the best in fine food, drink, and romance, then the Spencer Inn was the place to go.

Two years later, Mac was still getting used to receiving the royal treatment. Doors were opened for him. Trying to anticipate the inn owner’s every need or desire, clerks would race to get his favorite cognac or predict what type of dinner he might be in the mood for. If Mac and Archie were dining at his table in the gourmet restaurant at sunset, the host would ensure the blinds were set to perfection to block the sun from his eyes, while still allowing him a view of the mountains and the lake below.

Mac Faraday was forty-seven years old when he had learned that the teenaged girl who had given him up for adoption had grown up to become Robin Spencer, an internationally famous murder mystery writer. She had come from a long line of blue bloods, who had founded the upscale resort town of Spencer, Maryland. For an underpaid homicide detective, the whole experience was still surreal.

Mac didn’t think he would ever get used to it.

The hosts of both the lounge and the restaurant opened their cut-glass doors when they spied Mac and Archie crossing the lobby. Unsure of where they wanted to eat, the couple paused. Glancing down at their coats and gloves and dirty boots and jeans, Archie suggested the lounge where they would not appear so out of place—even if they did own it.

The host hurried in ahead of them to signal for a server to prepare the corner booth where Mac usually sat when visiting the lounge. By the time they crossed the bar area, the bartender was getting a bottle of Archie’s favorite white wine from Mac’s private collection—2008 Domaine Leflaive Puligny-Montrachet Les Folatières. He also fetched two wine glasses.

“What happened between you and David?” Archie asked after they were settled in the booth.

“Nothing happened,” Mac insisted in a low voice.

“Liar.”

The bartender showed the gold bottle with the white label to Archie, the wine expert of the couple. He uncorked and served a single swallow for her to approve before filling their glasses. “Have you decided on what you would like for dinner this evening?”

Mac turned to Archie for her choice. Dining with Archie Monday was an adventure. As Robin Spencer’s assistant, she had traveled all over the world. Fearless when it came to exotic food, she loved to test the culinary skills of the chief chef.

“What does Iman feel like trying this evening?” she asked. “Tell him that I’m drinking a 2008 Domaine Leflaive Puligny-Montrachet Les Folatières and to surprise me with something to complement it.” With a wicked glance in Mac’s direction, she added, “Make it a dinner for two.”

The bartender went back to the kitchen to deliver her message.

After a toast, Archie took off her cap and ran her fingers through her hair to revive the circulation to her scalp before urging Mac to continue. “You had to do something to make David threaten to shoot you.”

“David wasn’t going to shoot me,” Mac said. “He only threatened to.”

“He’s been down lately,” she said. “He tries to hide it, but I can see it. You do know that Finnegan is leaving for Quantico tomorrow.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Mac confessed that he had forgotten about David’s latest girlfriend, a former U.S. Marshal, was starting a new career with the Federal Investigative Agency. She was moving to Quantico, Virginia. After her training was completed, she would be transferred to her first assignment, which would definitely not be western Maryland.

“How long do you think that relationship is going to last?” Archie asked with a frown. “It’s like Yvonne all over again. It’s all hot and heavy. She gets a big job offer. They say they’ll make it work long distance. After less than six months, she’s sleeping with someone else and dumps David.”

Mac was only half listening. He was remembering the determination, with a hint of something else, etched on David’s face when he turned around and ordered that they were coming back. They were going no further.

Fear
. “Something scared him,” Mac said more to himself.

“Do you mean like a bear?”

“David had a weapon,” Mac told her. “We were both armed. If it was a bear, we could have shot it if we had to. No, he didn’t—”

“Mac, they didn’t tell me that you were here.” Jeff Ingles, the manager of the Spencer Inn, was hurrying across the lounge in their direction. “I am so glad they found that lady.” He trotted at a quick pace, while trying to maintain the dignity befitting the manager of one of the country’s most elegant resorts.

“Gnarly found her,” Archie said.

The manager’s grin quivered at the thought of the rambunctious German shepherd. “I’m glad.” He turned to Mac. “Hector is debriefing the Inn’s security team to find out how these types of incidents can be avoided in the future.”

“The woman has Alzheimer’s,” Mac said. “I didn’t get any vibes from her family that they intended to hold us responsible for her wandering off.”

“Well, you never can be too safe,” Jeff said. “If you want to have a word with Hector before—”

Shaking his head, Mac took a sip of his wine. “Tell him to go home and enjoy his evening. We’ll talk about it later.” Jeff was about to turn away when Mac interrupted his departure with a question. “What’s on the Spencer Inn property over on the south side of the mountain?”

Mac didn’t miss Jeff’s posture straightening. It was like a rod had been rammed down his back. Standing up straight, his shoulders tense, the manager turned to face him. “Pardon me?”

“What’s at the end of the road leading over to the other side of the mountain?” Mac asked again. “David and I went out there, and I saw signs saying, ‘No Trespassing, Spencer Inn Property.’ But I don’t know what’s out there.” He shrugged. “I can’t believe I’ve never gone—” He recalled, “
You
took me on a tour of this whole resort when I inherited it, but you never took me out there.”