“Gran didn’t have a reason, not one she could articulate, but she was adamant about it. She doesn’t clearly remember the fall, but I wonder if there’s an instinct, some buried memory, something that had her insisting on changing the security.”
“You find a hole in the basement and now you think Miss Hester’s fall wasn’t an accident.”
“Yeah, nutshell. Abra was assaulted last night. He had to cut the power to get in. He wasn’t expecting her. He knew I wasn’t here. Maybe he’s working with Duncan. Duncan knew I was in Boston. You said he showed you receipts, gave you timelines. He could’ve given the person who broke in the all-clear. I’m in Boston, get in, get digging.”
“For what?”
“Vinnie, you and I might shake our heads at the whole Esmeralda’s Dowry nonsense, but plenty don’t.”
“So somebody gets Ms. Landon’s key and passcode, copies them. I can go with that. It’s not that hard. He uses them to gain access to the basement, starts digging his ass off. One night he attacks her, knocks her down the stairs.”
“She can’t remember. Yet.”
As the image came, as it always did, of her lying broken, bleeding, Eli paced off the fury. “Maybe she heard something and came down. Maybe she just came down then heard something. She tried to get back up. Her bedroom door’s thick as a plank, and locks from the inside. Get in, call the cops. Or maybe he just scared her and she tripped. Either way, he left her there. Unconscious, bleeding, broken. He left her.”
“If it happened that way.” Vinnie put a hand on Eli’s shoulder. “If.”
“If. A lot of activity here for a couple weeks after she fell. The police, Abra in and out getting things for Gran. But then it settles down a little, and he can come back, keep digging. Until word gets out I’m coming to stay. Until Abra changes the security. Vinnie, he had to know the house would be empty for several hours yesterday. It had to come from Duncan.”
“We’ll talk to Duncan again. Meanwhile, I’m going to get somebody in here to take pictures, measurements. We’ll take the tools in. We’ll get them processed, but that’s going to take a little time. We’re small fries around here, Eli.”
“Understood.”
“Get that security fixed. We’ll add a couple more drive-bys. You ought to think about getting a dog.”
“A dog? Seriously?”
“They bark. They have teeth.” Vinnie’s shoulders lifted in a rolling shrug. “We’re not exactly a hotbed of crime over at South Point, but I like knowing there’s a dog in my house when I’m not. Anyway, I’ll get some people out here. Why dig way back here?” Vinnie wondered as they started back.
“It’s the oldest part of the house. This section was here when the Calypso went down off the coast.”
“So what’s his name, the survivor?”
“Giovanni Morenni, according to some. José Corez, according to others.”
“Yeah, them. And I’ve heard other stories that say it was Captain Broome himself. Arrgh!”
“And a hearty yo-ho,” Eli added.
“Either way, he drags the dowry box—which conveniently came ashore with him—up here, buries it? I always like the one where he stole a boat, went out and buried it on one of the offshore islands.”
“There’s the one where my ancestor came down, found him, brought him and the treasure to the house and nursed him back to health.”
“My wife likes that one. It’s romantic. Except for the part where your ancestor’s brother kills him and throws his body off the bluff.”
“And the dowry’s never seen again. The fact is, whatever the theory, the man who did this is a believer.”
“Looks that way. I’ll stop by the B-and-B, take another pass at Duncan.”
It wasn’t the way Eli would’ve chosen to spend the day, dealing with cops, the power company, insurance company, alarm security techs. The house felt too crowded, too busy, and brought home to him how much he’d grown accustomed to space, quiet, solitude. He’d discovered an aptitude for quiet and solitude at odds with the life he once led. Gone were the days filled with appointments, meetings, people, the evenings filled with parties and events.
He wasn’t sorry about it. If a day spent answering questions, making decisions, filling out forms struck as an anomaly, he decided he could live with it.
And when at last the house and grounds were empty again, he let out one sigh of relief.
Before he heard the mudroom door open.
“Jesus, what now?” He crossed over, opened the interior door.