What's A Ghoul To Do? Part 28

"This chick really loved your grandfather," I said.

"Kind of... how you say ... consumed with him?"

"Obsessed."

"Yes. She seems to be obsessed with him."

"Yep. And completely jealous of your grandmother. She keeps referring to her as the Evil Queen. So, at least we know these were written while your grandmother was still alive."

Steven nodded. "Which would put it about nineteen eighty-eight or earlier."

"And Maureen died in the seventies."

"See?" Steven said to me. "So it could have been Maureen."

"Yes," I conceded. "But my gut says it's not."

"Another mystery to solve then."

I shuffled all the letters together into one pile on the counter. "None of this makes any sense. Why were these letters hidden in Maureen's bedroom if Maureen didn't write them? Who was this mystery woman, and what the h.e.l.l does it have to do with your grandfather's death?"

Steven rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe none of it's connected," he said. "Maybe Maureen is upset that someone else had an affair with my grandfather, and that's the reason for her anger."

I nodded as I thought about that. "Still," I said, "I think there's more to this story than we realize."

"Where do we go from here?" Steven asked.

I hopped off the bar stool. "There's a lead or two left that we haven't tracked down yet. Come on; we need to go back into town."

Chapter 13.

We arrived in town a little while later, and I told Steven where I wanted to go. Pulling up alongside a spiffy-looking Victorian, we got out and checked the nameplate on the front entrance: CURT BANCROFT, REALTOR.

As we were about to head inside, I felt a small tug to my right and happened to turn my head. Just down the street from where we'd parked sat a s.h.i.+ny silver Rolls-Royce. I tapped Steven on the shoulder and pointed to his father's car. "The guy always seems to have the same interests we do," I said.

I watched as Steven's brow darkened. "Come," he said. "It's time to find out what that b.a.s.t.a.r.d is up to."

When we opened the door we heard the sound of a doorbell, announcing our presence. A woman about my age, with long red hair and gla.s.ses, looked up as we entered. "Good afternoon," she said warmly. "Did you have an appointment with Mr. Bancroft?"

"No," I said quickly, taking the lead. "But we were interested in purchasing some land, and we heard you guys were the best Realtor in town."

The woman giggled. "That might have a little something to do with the fact that we're the only only Realtor in town. Mr. Bancroft is busy with another client at the moment; then he has a luncheon appointment. Can I pencil you in for one o'clock this afternoon?" Realtor in town. Mr. Bancroft is busy with another client at the moment; then he has a luncheon appointment. Can I pencil you in for one o'clock this afternoon?"

Steven opened his mouth, but I gave him a small slap on the back and said, "That would be great. Pencil us in; the last name is Holliday. We'll go get some lunch ourselves and be back then." With that I turned and walked out, hoping Steven would follow.

He did, but not before grabbing my arm on the front steps and asking, "Hey, what was that about?"

"It's called playing it smart," I said. "If you go in there with guns blazing and half-c.o.c.ked, your father isn't going to tell you anything. He's obviously doing business with people in real estate, so let's poke around a bit before we start pointing fingers and alerting the media that your dad is a rat b.a.s.t.a.r.d, okay?"

Steven surprised me by breaking into a grin. "You are cute when serious, you know?"

I rolled my eyes and headed down the steps. Looking back I said, "Come on. Let's get some lunch and come up with a good story so that we don't make Bancroft clam up like Roger did."

An hour and a half later we were seated comfortably in Curt Bancroft's office, waiting for him to get back from his lunch date. Steven's knee bounced up and down, and he cracked his knuckles enough times for me to want to get up and swat him, so I tried to distract myself by taking in the decor of Bancroft's office.

The room was a honey yellow with rich white molding. There were two watercolors mounted on the wall: one of a sailboat and the other of a harbor. Bancroft's desk was neatly organized, no files or pads of paper for me to snoop around in while we waited.

Finally, ten minutes late and full of apologies, Bancroft breezed into the room, his tie askew and a lipstick smudge on his collar. "So sorry I'm late," he said trying to catch his breath.

"No problem," Steven said easily. "We have all day."

Bancroft moved around to his side of the desk and sat down. He was about an inch or two taller than Steven. His face had probably once been handsome, but had grown soft like his belly with middle age and too many carbs. His hair was brown and looked freshly mussed, and he must have caught me staring at it, because he was quick to try to smooth it out. "Windy out there," he said quickly.

"Really?" I said with a smirk. "I hadn't even noticed a breeze today."

"Just started up, then," Bancroft said as he scooted his chair forward. "Now, what can I do for you folks?"

"We're from Boston," I began. "And we were up this way about a month ago, visiting my parents, who live in New York, when we got lost and ended up in Uphams.h.i.+re. Well, I fell in love with it immediately, and I've been just nonstop about how smitten I am with this neck of the woods. I've been going on and on about it to Peter here," I said, pausing to squeeze Steven's arm. On cue, he flashed a smile at Bancroft. "And even though both our jobs would keep us in Boston, someday I'd like to retire someplace between there and my family."

"You'd like to see about buying a little land, then?" Bancroft said.

Clapping my hands enthusiastically, I said, "Yes!"

Bancroft leaned in over his desk, resting on his elbows and placing his hands together in a steeple. "You definitely came at the right time," he said. "I have the inside scoop that Uphams.h.i.+re's real estate is about to shoot through the roof."

"You don't say?" I asked, suddenly intrigued. "Big business moving in?"

Bancroft smiled knowingly. "Better. There's a highway set to connect the Ma.s.s. Pike with Route Eighty-five through to New York. That means we'll be on the fast track, and land around here will be worth a mint!"

"Really?" Steven said. "When is this highway being finished?"

"Within the next three years," Bancroft said. Then he motioned for us to come closer. When we leaned in, he said in a low, excited tone, "And I met with a gentleman earlier who informs me that a major pharmaceutical company is looking at property just north of here to build a huge facility!"

"A pharmaceutical company?" I asked.

"Yes. You know how Ma.s.sachusetts laws are so friendly toward all that stem-cell research stuff? Well, apparently, New York isn't nearly as open to the idea, and a major player in that market is looking to relocate without having to uproot all of their employees. This new highway would bring them here without too much fuss."

"And you said that this facility will be just north of here?" Steven asked.

"Yes. There's a large chunk of land that would be a prime location," Bancroft said, pointing north. "It's mostly undeveloped forest up that way. Perfect to build on, especially since the highway will run so close by it."

I watched Steven's face begin to darken. He was getting angry, and I needed to distract him-p.r.o.nto. I gave a pointed glance at my watch and cried, "Oh, my goodness! Honey, I completely forgot to tell Mom we weren't going to make it for lunch! She's probably got the food laid out for us and is wondering where we are."

Steven turned to me and gave me a confused look. "Really?"

"Yes, oh, this is terrible! Mr. Bancroft, I'm so sorry, but I'm afraid we've got to run. Mom's going to be so disappointed if we don't show up. We'll be sure to come back soon, especially now that we know that land around here is going to appreciate so quickly." I got up and hurried toward the door. "Honey? Are you coming?"

Steven hesitated in his chair, and I knew he was debating whether to follow me or continue pumping Bancroft for info. To my immense relief my cell phone went off at that exact moment and, hauling it out of my pocket, I saw that it was Gilley. "Hey, Mom!" I announced with a flourish as I answered the call.

"M.J.?" Gilley asked.

"Yeah, I know, we're totally late, but we are on our way, I promise. We should be there in half an hour. Come on, Peter, Mom's waiting!"

Steven had little choice but to get up and follow me out of the office. I kept rambling nonsensically into Gilley's ear until we cleared the building and I could explain to him that we hadn't been in an area where we could talk freely. "I thought it might be something like that," Gilley said. "So, here's the scoop. I know why Steven Senior wants that property."

"There's a highway coming through town and a major pharmaceutical company is looking for land to build a plant on," I said.

There was a pause on the line before Gil said, "You always always beat me to the punch!" beat me to the punch!"

I smiled. "Yeah, but it's nice to know we've both got the same story."

"Well, I may have one eensy little tidbit more than you. Did you know who is on the board of directors for that pharmaceutical company?"

"I'll take Dr. Steven Sable Senior for two hundred."

"Bingo!"

"What's that?" Steven asked me as we paused by the car.

Quickly I explained to him that Gilley had come up with the same scoop we had, but with the added tidbit about the board of directors. Next I told Gilley to hold on, and I hit the speaker b.u.t.ton so we could all talk with ease. "What I don't understand," I said, "is why your father thinks he can so easily get his hands on this property. I mean, if something happens to you, Steven, wouldn't people naturally a.s.sume he had a hand in it?"

"Maybe something doesn't have to happen to me," Steven said.

"What do you mean?" Gilley asked.

Steven kicked at some dirt and seemed to struggle with something before spitting out, "He may not be my biological father."

"What?" Gilley and I said together. Gilley and I said together.

Again Steven kicked at the dirt and avoided eye contact. Taking a big breath, he finally said, "When my mother was very sick with her cancer, she told me that before I was born she wanted to make Steven jealous and leave his wife. She said she took another man, a foreigner from Hungary, as her lover. When Steven found out the truth of this, he chased the other man out of town and my mother never saw him again.

"Soon after that my mother said she became pregnant, but I have always wondered which was my real father. That is why I have researched the paternity case against my father. It is true that my grandfather supplied his own blood sample, but he put a... what is the word when one thing depends on another?"

"Stipulation?" Gilley said.

"Yes, that's the word. He put a stipulation on the settlement that the results were sealed for a hundred years. It's puzzling, do you not think?"

"In other words," Gilley said, "your father-or who you think is your father-has always suspected your mother became pregnant by the other guy."

"Yes. And this is why I think he continues to reject me. I think it is only a matter of time before he fights me on the rights of the estate."

"He'd have to supply a DNA sample," I said. "But at least you'd all know for sure."

"I believe he's made up his mind that I'm not his son," Steven said, looking at me for the first time since he began telling the story. His eyes seemed so vulnerable and sad that I reached out and squeezed his hand. "And I believe he's just waiting to get the other life estate holders out of the way before coming after me."

"Which brings us back to Willis and Mirabelle," I said. "Gilley, you seem to know a lot about this life estate thing. We know that Senior is attempting to challenge Mirabelle's right to the property in court, but we've heard from Willis that Senior is taking a different tack. He's been checking in on him, and trying to offer some medical a.s.sistance. What's that angle?"

"He could be trying to buy the land from him," Gilley said.

"But I thought that if you held the property in life estate you couldn't sell it?" I asked.

"You can't to anyone other than whom the life estate would revert back to upon your death. In other words, for a price, Willis could give up his life estate rights to the property only to Steven or Steven Senior."

I turned to Steven. "Remember Willis said that he was thinking about moving back to Jamaica Plain to be closer to his daughter?"

Steven was nodding his head. "Makes sense," he said as he dwelled on it. "He buys off Willis and puts pressure on Mirabelle in court because she won't sell."

Thinking about that, I added, "You know, I really think we need to go have another chat with Roger. The fact that he's had her deed in his hot little hands and hasn't recorded it yet bothers me."

Steven nodded. "Do you still have the original?"

"Yes."

"Good. We'll record it ourselves later, but I agree with you that we need to confront him. Then we will need to warn Mirabelle."

"Anything you want me to research?" Gilley asked.

I hit on a good idea. "Gil, Steven hasn't contacted the Cambridge police yet because he's too p.i.s.sed off. Can you hack into their system and find out what the police report says? There's something really bothering me about this whole thing."

"I'm on it, M.J. I'll call you when I find out something."

We got into Steven's car and drove over to Roger's office. As we parked at the curb, I'll admit I was a bit nervous returning to the scene of the crime. I shook it off as we approached and walked through the office door, trying my best to adopt an air of total nonchalance. As we entered the office, however, I felt my heart skip a beat.

The place was a shambles. There was paper everywhere, and manila folders littered the floor. Steven and I gave each other a look, and I whispered to him, "Did you you do this?" do this?"

He scowled at me and replied, "No. I left it like it was when we broke in." From the back of the office we heard someone swear loudly, followed by a small crash. "h.e.l.lo?" Steven called as he put a hand on my shoulder, preparing me to bolt if necessary.

The cursing paused as Steven called out. Then we heard Roger's voice ask, "Who's there?"

"It's Dr. Sable," he said.

"I have it!" Roger said. "It has to be here. Just give me a little more time!"

Steven and I both looked at each other, and I shrugged my shoulders. "How much more time?" he asked, playing along.

Roger appeared from the office and started to say, "I'll have it by the end-" when he noticed us, and that was when he seemed to catch himself from saying anything more. "Oh, it's you," he finally managed. "I thought it was your father."

I narrowed my eyes. I had just realized what he must be looking for. "We know what you're up to," I said.

Roger narrowed his own eyes back. "Up to?" he snarled. "What would I be up to?"