Murder at the Mansion (18 page)

I
parked in front of the mansion, knowing visitors would be using the back lot, and walked to the kitchen to see what I could do to help. When I got there, Tina and Cindy were deep in concentration garnishing appetizers with sprigs of parsley. Lily stood at one of the counters, placing an assortment of crackers on a tray.

I looked forward to telling her about my find when I could. “Lily, where's a good place for me to put my purse?”

“Look in the bottom left-hand cabinet over there.” She nodded in the direction of the wall adjacent to the washroom.

“Thanks.”

Opening it, I added my purse to the others stored there by the staff. I went back and stood next to Lily, admiring her dress. It was a white, brown, and pale green plaid. Ruffles adorned the shoulders and the hem. Her hat sported a long, delicate feather.

“That's quite an ensemble, Lily.”

Lily made a complete turn, showing me the entire garment. “It's a vintage madras day dress, probably from the eighteen sixties. Resorts International gives me a budget for my outfits and, using the Internet, I've been able to find wonderful pieces.”

Hensley walked in and surveyed the room. Did she know anything about the man Sylvia had said was Robert Johnson?

Seizing the opportunity, I said, “Margaret, the Sentinels have found Robert James. However, the photo of him looks like one Sylvia showed me. She'd said it was billionaire Robert Johnson. Do you know anyone by that name?”

“It sounds familiar. I'm sure I know something about him.” She frowned, then shook her head. “It's not coming to me right now, but it will.”

Tina and Cindy straightened up, their edible creations completed, then gave each other a high five.

I walked over. “These are beautiful. I never in a thousand years would've thought raw cooking could create masterpieces like these.”

“And,” Cindy said, “it's not just about their appearance. Wait until you taste them.”

“I'm looking forward to it.” Had Deputy Stanton told her about the raven?

“Do you know we found the jewel thief?”

“No!” Tina exclaimed. “Who is it?”

I could understand why it wasn't a priority of the deputy's, and so I explained about the raven. I could see Hensley out of the corner of my eye. She didn't look surprised. I guessed Deputy Stanton had returned the diamond ring, along with an explanation. It would've been nice of her to say something to Tina, but nice didn't seem to be part of her makeup.

“Wow! Thanks. That's been a cloud over my head. I can enjoy today even more.”

“I'm glad it's resolved, too.”

“Kelly.” Tina hesitated. “We'd like to talk to you for a few minutes before the event begins.”

“Sure, if there's time. Let me check what's happening.” I wondered what they wanted to talk about.

Lily sailed by me, full skirt billowing and ostrich feather quivering. A platter of crackers appeared ready to go, so I took it with me. Had Deputy Stanton talked to them yet about the alibis? Tina hadn't appeared upset.

The side porch was enclosed in glass. Two long rectangular tables decorated with beautiful bouquets of flowers were on each side of the room. Appetizers rested on the tables, which had been pulled away from the wall so people would have room to move on both sides. The wine stations were set up at the back of the porch.

Phil's whistling filled the room. He nodded a hello and did a couple of Greek dance steps. He knew I enjoyed line dancing, and he was a master dancer. Phil whirled and spun, his feet tapping out intricate steps. He gave a final bow with a flourish of his arms.

I clapped. “It's always such a delight to watch you, Phil.”

Andy, on the other side of the room, waved as he perused his cheese trays, making minute changes here and there. I joined him.

“Kelly, hi. I have some excellent cheeses for you today, including a Huntsman and a smoked Gouda. I encourage you to try them all.”

“I don't need any encouragement. You've taught me a lot about the exquisite taste of artisan cheeses.”

Areas at the ends of the food tables remained clear. Daniel was putting out brochures in one of those spots.

Hensley swept into the room. “Kelly, I'd like you to set up on the end of that table over there.” She pointed to one opposite Daniel. “I'm putting out information on Redwood Heights and Resorts International on the other ends.”

I spread my brochures out, a thrill running through me as I looked at them. My new job. My new life. My new home.

I looked at the tray of appetizers nearest me. Cards listing the ingredients rested in holders in front of them. Clever. That would entice people to ask questions and forewarn anyone with food sensitivities. I checked my watch. We had twenty minutes before the doors opened.

I went back to the kitchen to find out what Tina and Cindy wanted to talk to me about. When I got there, I found Jerry had joined them.

“Let's go in the washroom,” Tina said.

We went back to the area where I'd found the passageway yesterday. I was burning with curiosity to hear what they had to say.

“Deputy Sheriff Stanton questioned us,” Tina said. “He—”

I interrupted her. “I'm sorry, Tina. I had to tell him when I realized the alibi Jerry and Cindy had was no longer valid.”

“We completely understand and want to thank you for talking to Deputy Sheriff Stanton about protecting Jerry's reputation,” Cindy said. “We really appreciate it.”

“The good news is he was able to do it,” Tina said.

Jerry nodded. “We actually do have alibis. They just aren't quite what we told the police.” He didn't look at me as he made this admission.

Cindy chimed in. “I ran into him at the school when I was picking up supplies for today. It was after Tina texted me.”

Jerry picked up the line of the conversation. “I had made arrangements to meet the owners and used an alias.” His face reddened. “When I heard the police were asking questions, I asked Cindy to cover for me.”

“We were protecting the Meat King,” Cindy said.

The girls giggled.

“I'm not leaving meat cooking behind,” he hastened to add, “but when I began to learn more about raw food cooking, I was fascinated by what can be done and wanted to learn more.”

“We had lunch together and then went to the class,” Cindy said.

“After we complete our courses and get our certificates, Jerry's going to help us start a small business with a café and catering.” Tina's eyes glowed. “He'll be a silent partner.”

“I'll be more than silent, I'll be an invisible partner.” We all laughed. “At least in the beginning. We'll see where it goes.”

“That's great news. Congratulations to all three of you.”

“We've been having fun. We work well together,” Jerry said, “which isn't always the case in the cooking world.”

I glanced at my watch. “There are only a few more minutes before the event begins.”

Jerry said, “It's time for me to exit out the back and enter in the front.” He gave a wave and was gone.

I went to the porch and took my station. The doors opened and people flooded in. Corrigan came over and stood next to me, greeting guests. He smiled at them, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

He turned to me. “Deputy Sheriff Stanton told Scott and me what happened. Are you okay?”

“Yes. I'm fine. Just a few scraped fingers.”

“I want to talk to you as soon as this is done. I don't want you to leave the building for any reason.”

His serious tone brought back the specter of the morning's attempt on my life. “All right.”

“We'll talk about what I've got planned.”

The next couple of hours were a whirlwind of activity. Time flew by. The crowds didn't come and go as Corrigan had said. They came and stayed. New people kept arriving; the throng never diminished.

I stepped in several times to help Andy and Phil pour wine, directing questions about the cheese and wine to them. Tina and Cindy replaced trays of food and glasses. Scott hovered by the Resorts International information. Corrigan split his time at the four places advertising his company and helping as needed.

Judging by the buzz around the raw food appetizers, they were a hit. About half a dozen people peppered Cindy and Tina with questions and requests for recipes. Their faces shined, their gestures animated. Who knew raw food could be so much fun?

Jerry stood off to the side. He was an astute businessman. You didn't get a title like Meat King offered to you on a platter. He'd worked for it. Jerry would figure out a way to bring the two styles of cooking together.

The Silver Sentinels made their way through the crowd, which wasn't hard with Ivan at the bow, breaking through the waves of people.

Mary's sweet perfume enveloped me as she picked up a brochure. “Oh, honey, these are gorgeous.”

Gertie opened one and scanned the pictures. “Smart idea, the themed rooms. People will find favorites and want to come back to their special one.”

The Professor pointed to one of the pictures. “What good taste you have, Kelly. I'd want to stay in this room.” The picture showed a large brown leather chair pulled up next to a fireplace, a stack of magazines on the table next to it, and a bookcase filled with books.

Rudy looked at the pamphlet. “That looks like your house, Professor.”

“Yes, indeed it does. Must be why I like it.”

I handed a brochure to an interested passerby. “Please let me know if you have any questions.”

The Professor closed the pamphlet and placed it on the table. “My dear, we're having an impromptu dinner in the conference room this evening. Now that we've located Robert James, we want to assess where we are and decide on next steps. We'd love to have you join us.”

Information sharing, planning next steps, and dinner with friends sounded perfect—especially after the day I'd had. “Good idea, Professor. I'd love to.”

“Fine, then. We'll see you later.” With a nod, the Professor and the rest of the group wandered off.

I glanced around a couple times during the busy afternoon. Hensley looked every inch the charming hostess. Andy blew air kisses as he raved about his cheese, his passion showing. Phil was too far away for me to see his eyes, but I'm sure they were twinkling as he talked about merlots, zinfandels, and chardonnays.

The event ended at three thirty, and Andy and Phil began to put away wineglasses. The crowd started to thin. Some women examined the ruffles on Lily's dress, and a few stragglers at the appetizer table were taking notes as Cindy and Tina talked. Scott was picking up brochures. I didn't see Hensley.

Corrigan came over to me. “Let's meet in the housekeeping office. We won't be disturbed there.”

I'd already picked up a couple of platters. “Okay. I'll rinse these off and be right there.”

As I cleaned the dishes, I thought about what the day had brought to the investigation. Jerry and Cindy were off the suspect list. Would Robert James have an alibi and shorten the list that much more? Since I'd solved the jewel thefts, Tina and Stevie were in the clear on that. And someone apparently wanted me dead, and I had no idea why. Disturbing, to say the least. I dried my hands and joined my boss.

The office was brightly lit, which made up for the lack of windows. I sat in front of the desk.

Corrigan picked up a pencil and began rolling it between his fingers. “Kelly, an attempt was made on your life. Until we catch whoever did it, I don't want you going places on your own.”

I frowned. “But that really limits me, Michael. I should be okay in public places. I promise not to go anywhere isolated.”

“I understand, but your safety comes first. I've arranged for Detective Rodriguez to stay at Redwood Cove B and B tonight. Helen's prepared a room for him and one for you, too.”

“But I have a room.”

“It's too isolated, and all that glass is easy to break. You'll have a room next to the detective.”

“But what about errands and putting the final touches on the inn?”

“Daniel, Scott, and I will make ourselves as available as possible to accompany you.” Corrigan smiled. “And no more ‘buts,' please.”

I sighed. “What we need to do is figure out who's behind all of this. At least we made some progress today. The Silver Sentinels found Robert James. I saw his photo pinned up with where he's staying written beneath it.”

“Good news, though I doubt he has anything to do with any of this.”

“I agree. Funny thing, he looks just like the man Sylvia said was Robert Johnson, a billionaire.”

The pencil snapped. Corrigan abruptly stood and tossed the pencil on the desk. His hands balled into fists, knuckles white. “I want to see that picture. Now.” He headed for the door.

Startled, I hurried after him, almost having to run to keep up. What had enraged my hard-to-ruffle boss?

C
orrigan didn't say a word as we drove to the inn. Anger emanated from him. He parked, got out, slammed the door, and headed for the back door.

I thought about Tommy and Allie. “Michael.” I caught up with him and put my hand on his arm. “I can tell you're really upset. Others will know it, too. The kids were working on school projects in the main room earlier today. Let's go in the other door.”

He took a deep breath, and his features relaxed a bit. “Good idea.”

I unlocked the back door I'd used earlier in the day, and we entered.

“If the man in the photo is Robert Johnson, that's going to bring an unpleasant past into the present,” he said.

In the conference room, he went over to the picture and stared . . . and stared . . . and stared. He took out his phone. “Deputy Sheriff Stanton, the man you know as Robert James is really Robert Johnson, my ex-partner, and he was trespassing when he stayed at Redwood Heights.”

His former partner? Trespassing? There must be some serious history between the two with all that anger.

“Yes, I can come over now.” Ending the call, he turned to me. “He has Johnson at the mansion in the interview room. Let's go. I want you staying with me until we have things sorted out for the evening.”

The drive back was fast, but his large figure charging for the interview room seemed faster.

Corrigan made a beeline for the slim, dark-haired man standing next to Deputy Sheriff Stanton. “I told you to never set foot on any of my properties again. How dare you—”

I thought he might grab him by the front of his shirt. Apparently Deputy Stanton felt the same way, as he stepped in front of Corrigan.

“Hello, Michael,” the man said, his voice calm, clearly not disturbed by Michael's entrance. “It seems the years haven't cooled your anger.”

“Mr. Corrigan,” Deputy Stanton said, “I asked you to join us with the thought you might have something to add to the questioning. If that's not the case, I'll need you to leave.” He turned to the other man. “Mr. Johnson, take a seat.”

Robert Johnson went around the table and sat facing Stanton.

Michael didn't move immediately. When he did, he placed himself where he could stare at his ex-partner. I decided to sit on the periphery of the group and chose a place at the end of the table.

Deputy Stanton sat back. “There are clearly strong feelings between the two of you. What's that about?”

Robert Johnson glanced at Michael then started. “Michael Corrigan and I met at Harvard. We did a few projects together, initially, just for the fun of it, to see what we could do. We found we worked well as a team, and when we graduated, we went into business together.”

Stanton had his pen and notebook out. “How long did that last?”

“We were together for almost eight years and did extremely well financially. That allowed us to begin to explore special areas of interest. I became fascinated with new technology and how it could be implemented in a resort site.” He looked at his ex-partner. “Your turn.”

“While Robert went high-tech, I became interested in preserving our country's heritage. I began to explore ways to modernize buildings that would allow them to keep their uniqueness and be enjoyed by people today.” He stopped. A couple of minutes passed.

Robert Johnson broke the silence. “People such as foreign dignitaries, rock stars, politicians, and the very wealthy are a diverse group with one thing in common—a need for safety. I wanted to provide them with a place where they could relax without being in the shadows of their bodyguards. A resort where they didn't need to worry about their kids being kidnapped. The geographical placement of a place like that is critical in terms of security.” He quit talking.

Deputy Stanton tapped his pen on his notebook. “Go on.”

“We bought a piece of property whose location was perfect for my dream. It was also a renowned vacation destination for the rich and famous in the late eighteen hundreds.” He stopped for a moment. “I ended up with the land for a number of reasons. It was impossible to incorporate the sensitive security equipment needed for my plan and use the original buildings.”

“What he's neglecting to tell you is the property in question is where my parents were married,” Michael said through gritted teeth. “I'd made a promise to restore it in their memory.”

“They were gone, Michael. What difference did it make?”

“You didn't get it then, and you still don't. Some places are about people's lives and the memories they bring. This place was one of those.” His voice increased in volume. “I went to take one last look at the building, not realizing your wrecking crew had already started demolishing it.” His voice seethed. “It wasn't just a building, it was a piece of history—personal and public—something that couldn't be replaced. What I saw ripped me apart.”

That was probably what he'd like to do to his ex-partner.

“The people I help have a right to live a normal life whenever they can.” Johnson's cool demeanor was gone. “They count, too.”

“We could've found you another place,” Corrigan countered.

Their voices escalated.

“Michael, I'd been looking for a long time. It was my dream, and I saw a chance to make it happen.”

There it was. This was what caused the rift. Opposing ideologies colliding and crushing a close friendship.

Michael stood and leaned toward Johnson. “You could've—”

Deputy Sheriff Stanton cut in. “Gentlemen, that covers the past. What brought you here, Mr. Johnson?”

Corrigan sat.

“A while back, I heard this place was for sale. After doing some research, I felt it would be perfect for one of my resorts, only I needed more land than what came with this property. My staff found that most of the adjacent land was owned by the Bernal Corporation in San Francisco. I got in touch with the CEO. He wasn't interested in selling . . . had some grand plan to build a posh community.” Johnson shook his head. “The guy's a novice. It turns out he's never built anything like that before. After I pointed out a few things he'd have to do and how much it would cost, he was more amenable to selling.”

Corrigan interrupted him. “You know I won't sell anything to you.”

Johnson didn't acknowledge him. “However, there were a couple more lots needed to make the deal work, so I didn't purchase it. You stepped in and bought the place. When you put it on the market, the CEO contacted me to let me know he'd acquired the additional properties.” He stared at Michael. “Yes, I know you won't sell me anything. That's why I asked this guy to buy it and then transfer it to me.”

“At one time, you had integrity. It seems that's gone now.”

Johnson looked away.

Deputy Stanton said, “Did you meet Sylvia Porter during your stay here?”

“No. I kept to myself as much as possible. I didn't want to be recognized.”

“Mrs. Porter's dead,” Deputy Stanton said. “Murdered.”

Johnson looked at the deputy. “Do you think I had something to do with her death?”

“We're questioning anyone staying here at the time Mrs. Porter was here. Where were you Thursday between the hours of eleven thirty and twelve forty-five?”

“Doing paperwork for the sale.”

“Was anyone with you?”

“No.”

“What about this morning between ten and ten thirty?”

Interesting. Stanton was looking for a connection between the attack on me and the murder.

“More of the same. The deal was supposed to close tomorrow.”

“Why did you trespass?”

“I knew Michael was at a conference. It was an opportunity for me to see the place. I had a staff member book a room and cancel at the last minute so I could step in.”

Michael spoke. “Robert, it's possible that a multimillion-dollar deal like this one could be the impetus for someone to commit murder. It's certainly happened to others in similar situations. One of my employees lost her life. Who had a stake in this sale?”

“The CEO, Mark Benton, and his sister. He'd get the money. She'd been wanting to try her hand at running a hotel or B and B. I cut them a good deal on the mansion. I'd still own it, but they had a long-term lease for a song. I wanted the property behind it.”

“Is there anything you can think of that might connect what you were doing to Mrs. Porter being killed if the deal didn't go through?” Stanton asked.

“Not really. As I said, I had to talk the CEO into selling. He'd just go back to his original plans. His sister wouldn't have any trouble finding another place to run. People burn out in that business.”

Deputy Stanton closed his notebook. “If you think of anything, let me know . . . and keep us informed as to your whereabouts.”

Johnson stood and began pacing. From his tasseled cordovan leather loafers to the soft luster of the pale yellow blazer, the high-tech resort owner reflected the clientele he catered to. He stopped in front of Corrigan.

“Michael, you don't want the place, and I do. I want it very badly. The mansion would stay intact. If you sell it to someone else, it might end up being sold again and destroyed, like what almost happened before you purchased it. Reconsider.”

“Not now. Not ever.” Corrigan put his hands on the table, fingers spread. “No deal, Robert.”

“If it means anything, Michael, I regret the decision I made about using the property you cared so much about for my first resort.”

Corrigan stood and strode out of the room, with me right behind him.

He stopped in the hallway. “Do you know who's at your inn right now?”

“The Silver Sentinels invited me to join them there for dinner. They should be there by now.”

“Good. I'll follow you back to the inn, and Detective Rodriguez will join you later.”

My keys were in my purse, which was still in the cupboard. We'd left so suddenly earlier, I hadn't retrieved it. “I need to get my things from the kitchen.”

Corrigan glanced down the hallway. The kitchen door was in sight. “Okay. I'll wait here for you.” He pulled out his phone.

Retrieving my purse, I decided to peek into the passageway and see if the police were there and whether or not they'd discovered anything. The door to the hidden hallway was closed. I opened it and saw no sign of anyone. They must've finished for now.

I started to close the door. A low moan came from the dark. I froze. A burst of adrenaline shot through me and the hair on my arms stood up. I felt rooted in place. Had my ghostly acquaintances of yesterday not been a figment of my imagination? If I looked, would I see a spectral figure?

Another moan. My breath came fast. Trembling, I opened my purse and took out my flashlight. I paused before turning it on. What was I going to see? I clenched my teeth and turned on the light.

I moved the beam slowly up the passageway. A few feet in, my light fell on the bottoms of a pair of shoes. I stepped into the hallway and cast the light on the prone figure.

Margaret Hensley . . . blood trickling down the side of her face.