Final Settlement (34 page)

“How could I forget?” The spry man had managed one of the island’s biggest estates, Fairview, until the property had changed owners. “How is the old place doing?”

“Looks great. Lots of people having meetings there, that kind of thing. ’Course it’s different from when the Trimble family owned it, but in a good way. You should stop by and see what they’ve done.”

Darby knew that the new owner of the rambling property, the nonprofit Maine Island Association, was putting Fairview’s size to good use, making it a campus for all kinds of groups working to preserve working waterfronts and island life. Recently the association’s director, Ryan Oakes, had held a symposium on fisheries that had drawn experts from the whole Atlantic coast. She picked up her spoon. “Maybe I can get Tina to take me over there before we head to the spa.”

“That’s right!” Donny grinned and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “She’s got you going with her to that new place up in Westerly.” He whistled under his breath. “Sounds hoity-toity to me, but you girls will probably have fun.”

Darby took a spoonful of the rich clam chowder and let the creamy warmth rest on her tongue. The taste was marvelous, the briny taste of the mollusks mingling with the buttery cream.
I’ve got to get Miles to taste this chowder,
she thought.
He will totally love it.

To Donny she smiled. “Yes, Tina and I will enjoy ourselves,” she assured him. “Can you think of a time when we haven’t?”

The old man could think of several times the pair had been in danger, and those hadn’t been side-splitting laughfests, but he pushed those thoughts away, bit his lip, and gave Darby a grin. After all, what harm could come to anyone in some high-falutin’ beauty parlor?

_____

Tina was dressed for a day in the city with her tight black pants and faux-fur cream-colored jacket. “I’m sick of wearing my same old winter clothes,” she complained, as Darby hoisted herself into the SUV. “Tell me, do I look like Bitsy in this getup?”

Darby took in her friend’s tall frame, mass of curly red hair, and razor-sharp expression. “Tina, you could not look like Bitsy if you tried,” she laughed. She pointed at the plastic sack on the seat between them. “What’s in the bag?”

“Those darn shoes of Terri’s,” she explained. “Forgot to give them to her yesterday, and she said she might stop by the spa while we’re there so she can check it out.”

She gazed at her friend, sitting next to her in the front seat. “If you want a seat belt, you’ve got to sit in the back,” she said. “Remember, Bitsy’s puppy …”

“I know, I know, she chewed the belt. After what I’ve been through the last day or two, I think I’ll take my chances and live dangerously for an afternoon.”

Tina started the SUV. “We can make the two o’ clock ferry if we have a quick stop at Fairview, but it’s got to be a short visit, okay?”

“Sure.” She leaned back on the seat, relaxing her injured shoulder. “I’m curious to see what the Maine Island Association has done with the place. Ryan Oakes had big plans.”

“I do see him around here and there,” Tina said. “Ryan always seems to be in an upbeat mood, so my guess is that things are going well.” She turned the SUV off the road and onto the long winding driveway to the estate.

Fairview was built in the fashion of the sprawling, shingle-style mansions from the turn of the twentieth century, and featured a giant wraparound porch and several jutting, symmetrical eaves. The main house, perched as it was on the edge of a rocky cliff, never failed to take Darby’s breath away.

A new parking lot had been created to the left of the property, and several cars bearing Island Association decals were parked there. Tina swung into a space and grabbed her turquoise pocketbook. “Remember, only fifteen minutes or so.”

“Gotcha.” Darby extricated herself from the SUV and closed the door. Pulling her red coat more tightly around her, she marveled that Fairview looked friendlier on a freezing February day than it had the last time she’d visited during the height of summer. The difference was that the house was now being loved.

“I can see they’ve sunk some money into this place,” Tina muttered. “New paint job, for one. Wasn’t the old garden shed over there when they bought it?” She pointed at a small outbuilding that was now closer to the main house.

“Yes, it was,” Darby said. “I wonder what it’s being used for?”

“That’s our children’s activities center,” explained a trim man with a ready smile. He stood waiting for them in the brisk air without a coat, a big grin on his face. “Good to see you again, Darby!”

“Ryan! I was hoping you’d be here if we stopped by. You remember Tina, right?”

“I sure do. Come on in, ladies, and let me show you around.”

The extravagant entryway seemed much the same, although an antique desk with flyers describing the organization’s activities, mission, and projects was positioned right at the entrance. “We have a receptionist here most of the time,” Ryan explained. “It’s been a little slow this winter but we expected that.”

He pointed at the ornate dining room where generations of Trimbles had dined. “This summer we’ll have a café that’s open to the public for lunch, featuring the best of Maine seafood. The formal living room is available for small receptions and parties, and we’ll be able to cater them from our kitchen.”

“Awfully pretty place to get married,” Tina said, nudging Darby, who shot her an exasperated look.

“Our offices are back here,” Ryan continued, “and upstairs. We also have a small library and gallery up there.” He punched the button on an elevator. “The main stairway’s still an option, but we put this in to meet code and so that we could use the upstairs for whatever we needed.”

They entered the elevator and emerged on the second floor. “This is the gallery,” Ryan explained, his face shining with pride.

Darby took in the gorgeous paintings and pointed at one. “That’s by Lucy Trimble, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “She gave it to us when we opened.” He pointed at another painting, this one of the Manatuck Breakwater. “Alcott Bridges. This is the first landscape he’d painted in years. I understand he was working on a larger version when he died.”

Tina and Darby shared a quick glance, thinking of the elderly man and his studio.

“Goes on the market next week,” Tina whispered.

“Can we poke our heads in the library?” Darby asked. “And then we’ll let you get back to work.”

“Certainly.” Ryan Oakes led them to a cozy room with floor to ceiling shelves lined with books. “People have been so generous. When we explained to our donors what we were doing here, so many of them came forward with their personal collections. It’s truly been overwhelming.”

“Do you find that being on Hurricane Harbor has made it more difficult for your conference participants to get to meetings?” Tina was thinking of the ferry, and its inflexible schedule. She glanced at her watch.

“I suppose it’s challenging, but I think the fact that we are on an island is what’s making our conferences so attractive to groups around New England. We’re the real deal, so to speak.” He pushed the button for the elevator.

“Sounds like you are well on your way,” Darby said to Ryan as he ushered them into the elevator. “I’m so pleased that this property is proving to be such a good home for the Island Association.”

“Thank you. We couldn’t have done it without you Darby, nor the generosity of Mark and Lucy. By the way, I just spoke to Mark this morning. He’s in the Bahamas, visiting friends, but will be so glad to know you both stopped by.”

They had reached the ground floor and were back in Fairview’s impressive entryway. Darby took a brochure and gave Ryan a light hug. “Thanks so much for the tour.”

“My pleasure. Come by this summer for lunch, okay?”

“We will,” Darby promised, waving as she and Tina went out the door.

_____

Bitsy Carmichael pushed away her plate of a half-eaten Cobb salad and sighed. Beside her, Rosie whimpered, as if sensing the sadness threatening to swamp her owner. “Here you go,” Bitsy said, giving the dog a chunk of ham from the salad. She sighed again and knew it was time to get up and do something.

There were piles of Charles’s things everywhere, but Bitsy didn’t feel strong enough to sort through them just yet. Instead she moved little stacks of items to the dining room table, feeling as if she was at least accomplishing something by consolidating. Now she gathered up his date book and a duck hunting magazine and carried them both to the table, Rosie trotting along, hoping another chunk of ham would materialize. The dog sprang up and put both front paws on the table, pulling down the pile, and Bitsy scolded her.

“No! No jumping!” The dog looked mortified and dropped quickly to the floor.

Bitsy bent to pick up the address book and magazine, along with several pieces of paper that had fallen out of the book. One was a reminder slip from the drycleaner’s in Manatuck.
Probably his uniform
, Bitsy thought. Another was a black and white photograph and caption, which looked to have been copied from a newspaper clipping. And the last was a coupon for a discount on an oil change.

She put the papers on the table. The photograph had writing on it, two letters along with a question mark, and a date. Curious, Bitsy pulled a pair of reading glasses from her pocket and scrutinized the image.

It was a typical donation photo of a community member handing a check to a charitable organization. A man in a suit was smiling as he proffered the donation, while the recipients—two women and a man—smiled as well. She read the caption.

James Williams of Manatuck Savings presents a check for one thousand dollars to Board Members of the Manatuck Area Battered Women’s Shelter.
Bitsy had seen flyers and posters for the organization, and knew it was still operating in a ramshackle old home in Manatuck.

She pulled the photograph closer and peered at the faces. She did not recognize James Williams, nor did she know the other man, but the two women looked familiar. One, she was sure, was the poor girl who’d worked for Charles and had been pushed off the Breakwater. She thought a moment.
Lorraine Delvecchio.
Her picture had been all over the
Manatuck Gazette
and it was easy to recognize her wan little face. The other woman reminded Bitsy of someone, but she couldn’t think who. She squinted her eyes at the female features. It was someone she had seen since being back in Maine. But who?

If the date written at the top of the paper was correct, the photograph had been snapped five years earlier. She looked at the scribbled letters.
CR
. Was there a question mark next to them because Charles hadn’t been sure? Were they the unidentified woman or man’s initials?

Bitsy shrugged and put the photograph on the dining room table. She looked about for Rosie, heard her whimpering at the back door, and hurried to get her coat and a leash.

SEVENTEEN

“
W
ASN’T IT NICE OF
Terri to get me this gift certificate?” Tina asked. She and Darby had made the ferry to Manatuck in plenty of time, and were now cruising up the coast to Westerly and the spa. “She knew I’d want to check it out as soon as it opened.”

“I’m thrilled to be going with you, Tina, but why didn’t you ask Terri?”

“Because I wanted to do something fun with you. Besides, she’s always getting facials and stuff at this resort right in town.”

Darby smiled. She wasn’t sure pampering sessions at spas were her thing, but nonetheless she was looking forward to a relaxing afternoon with Tina. “Have you spoken to Terri since she told us about her abortion?”

“Yes. She’s relieved to have finally told her secret. I keep saying she should tell Tripp, so hopefully she’ll get the guts to do that.” Her face brightened. “Terri said for us to call her when we got to the spa. If she can, she’s gonna stop by to say hello, and grab her fancy shoes.”

“Great.”

Tina pulled into a parking lot before a restored antique home. “Here we are,” she said, shutting off the engine.

“What a lovely old place,” Darby said, admiring the ornate bric-a-brac reminiscent of the Eastlake style.

Tina grabbed her pocketbook and opened the car door. “There’s a well-to-do guy here in Westerly who has bought a bunch of older homes and fixed them up incredibly well. I mean, like top-notch. He just finished working on this one last fall, and then Connie bought it.”

“Connie? You mean your hairdresser?”

Tina helped Darby out of the SUV. “Yeah. Didn’t I tell you that this was her new place? She’s going to keep her salon in Manatuck, but I’m not sure how long she’ll cut hair there. She’d have to drive back and forth, but who knows? She’s quite the businesswoman.”

Even with piles of snow surrounding the building, Darby could see that it was impeccably restored. All of the outside trim had been freshly painted; a new, handicapped accessible walkway led to the entrance; and healthy evergreen bushes lined the front façade. Every detail bespoke quality.

Tina pulled open the door for Darby and ushered her into a soothing entryway with a coat rack and mat for their shoes. Soft music played in the background and the light scent of sandalwood freshened the air. A moment later a pretty young woman dressed in a clean white smock appeared with two pairs of slippers.