“What did you learn?” Striding down the street, Autumn turned up the volume of her phone, so that she could be sure of hearing Ben clearly over the gusting wind that had started to blow, scudding the lake water into wavelets.
“Well, I learned that Stafford lives in a very sought after spot on the island. It’s between the harbor and the woods, up on the hill, one of those properties with an incredible view in every direction.”
“That’s interesting.” Autumn hadn’t yet been to his house. “Why does that create a motive for murder?”
“Apparently he’s had a new real estate agent from the island hounding him for months now, wanting him to sell. He’s got a blue chip client who’s been looking to buy and who’s had an interest in that property, among others. I believe that they had an argument about the property, in public, a while ago, with Stafford insulting him, and saying that he would never sell, and that the estate agent was wasting his time.”
“That could be very significant,” Autumn said. “Who’s the estate agent?”
“I just had a look,” Ben said. “It’s a company called Island Lifestyle, and the agent’s name is Gavin Barker.”
Now, Autumn remembered where that name was familiar from. She’d had a few leaflets in her mailbox over the past few weeks, from Gavin Barker.
“If you want to sell, I’m your man!” the leaflet had boasted. “Best service, best results!”
There had even been a photo of him. A round face and sunglasses pushed onto the top of his head and a confident, beaming expression were Autumn’s main take-homes from that photo.
“It says on their site that Gavin Barker is showing a home on Michigan Avenue, with a lake view,” Ben said.
"Right now, I'm about a ten-minute walk from Michigan Avenue, heading south," Autumn calculated.
“And I’m approximately ten minutes away, heading north,” Ben said.
“So, meet you there?” she asked, her heart speeding up.
“In ten minutes,” he confirmed.
***
Michigan Avenue, named because it bordered the lake along its full length, was one of Magnolia Bay’s finest roads. Autumn had always dreamed of buying a house on this road. That was assuming she had an imaginary, huge budget. Homes on Michigan Avenue were for the wealthy. That view was something people were willing to pay top dollar for.
Now, as she reached the house, she saw a couple of buggies pulled up outside, transporting people to the show house. Some of the arrivals, Autumn didn’t recognize at all, and they had that look about them that told her they were from the mainland. It was that air of being a tourist, of looking around them and taking everything in.
Newcomers to the island never stopped commenting on the lack of cars, and that was the conversation that Autumn heard in the still, late afternoon air, between a well dressed couple, as she watched the clouds scud across the sky, and waited for Ben.
"So unusual, isn't it, Helen? It's like being back in the old days."
“Think how fit we’d get if we lived here!”
"I'm not sure I can survive without a car for those impromptu trips to the store and suchlike, though."
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get used to it. You could always bring over that bicycle that’s been gathering dust in our garage for the last decade?”
“Bicycle?” the husband asked in alarm, causing Autumn to smile to herself. Then, her attention was caught by someone hurrying along the road to the show house.
It was Ben, and he waved as he saw her. Autumn waved back, noting that he’d changed out of his branded vet-practice golf shirt, and was now wearing a long sleeved black jacket and a pair of faded jeans. His walking shoes looked well used.
“I was nine minutes away, as it happens,” she said.
“And I was eleven minutes away,” he admitted. “Still haven’t gotten the hang of judging all the distances around here. I see there are a lot of people at this show house,” he said, looking at the prospective buyers milling in the entrance hall. “You think we’ll get to speak to Gavin Barker on his own?”
“I guess we can try to organize it,” Autumn said.
They headed inside, to find that a table had been set up in the entrance hall. Cleverly, in Autumn’s opinion, Gavin was creating a congenial atmosphere by having drinks and snacks available. It was staffed by a young man, of student age, who gave them a broad smile.
“Welcome,” he said. “Can I offer you a cocktail?”
Autumn had to admit, she was briefly tempted by the orange cocktails, with umbrellas, served in tall, elegant glasses. But she decided that if she took one it would be under false pretenses. She was here to find out information, and not as a potential buyer. Probably, Ben felt the same, because he also declined with a polite thank-you, before they headed into the living room.
This was empty, apart from some expensive furniture, but from the archway that led to the kitchen, Autumn picked up a booming, confident voice.
"This truly is the kitchen of your dreams. Turnkey! Turnkey! Everything you need is here, madam, right down to the very last appliance to make your food preparation a dream. As you take your culinary creations from the oven, you can glance out at the view of the lake, which you get from the kitchen, the main living room window, and from all the bedrooms upstairs. I am sure you can visualize how relaxing and uplifting such a view is after the city rat race."
“Absolutely!” a woman’s voice said.
“How do you source your properties?” someone else asked the booming speaker, who was clearly Gavin himself.
"Oh, I have my methods," he said with a chuckle, causing Autumn to glance at Ben, eyes widened. "I have my methods. You know, people can be unwilling to sell, but when you paint the right picture of the value of their property, they can sometimes change their mind."
“Let’s go and meet him,” Autumn whispered, heading through to the kitchen, and hoping that this encounter would be successful.
The timing was perfect. The other customers were just heading out, and the estate agent, who was shorter, wider and more solid than his picture had hinted at, was busy wiping a smear off the refrigerator door, using a dishcloth. The huge, double door refrigerator, like all the other kitchen appliances, was state of the art. It had a separate mini-compartment for drinks and wine, and an ice machine.
“Welcome, welcome to number nine Michigan Avenue. And who do I have the pleasure of meeting now?” Gavin asked.
"I'm Ben, and this is Autumn." Ben introduced both of them, which Autumn thought was good manners, since Gavin had only made any significant eye contact with Ben. He'd clearly assumed that they were a couple and that Ben was the one who would be spending the money. Autumn thought that was quite amusing. She wasn't offended and thought it worked in their favor in terms of being able to ask some questions without him becoming suspicious.
“Wonderful, wonderful.” He shook Autumn’s hand after Ben’s, and then gestured to the kitchen. “Look at this space! Look at the view. This home is being sold with all the appliances, which as you can see are top of the range. It’s a home I’m proud to showcase.”
“It’s very fine. Do you find there’s a lot of demand for these top-end properties?” Ben asked in interested tones.
Gavin nodded immediately, straightening the sleeves of his jacket, as he replied. “Absolutely. There’s a very strong demand for these higher-end homes. You know, wealthy people are discerning. They want what they want. And what Magnolia Bay offers, beyond compare, is lifestyle. Lifestyle, lifestyle,” he said.
“So people are drawn to the quiet, and the lack of cars?” Autumn asked. She hoped they would be able to guide the conversation where it needed to go. Luckily, Gavin did seem to like talking.
“More and more of them are looking to escape the rat race. And today, with our improvements in technology, it’s possible to do so much more online. There’s no need to live in a city because you work there. You can go through once a week for meetings, and the rest of the time, work in your own private study. That is upstairs in this home, with a pristine view of the lake.”
“How many bedrooms are there?” Ben asked. Autumn guessed that he was working around to the conversational topic of space. That would then allow them to ask about any other properties he might be suddenly acquiring.
“Would you like to see the bedrooms? How many children do you have?”
Quickly, before the situation could become awkward and force one of them to lie, Autumn chipped in. “Actually, we already had a brief look around, on behalf of a friend who’s thinking of moving here,” she said, just so that he didn’t think she was a liar or a time waster. “And it is lovely, but it’s yard space, more than bedrooms, that I was wondering about. Do you have any other homes available on larger lots?”
She knew that the houses up on the hill had the advantage of more space. Stafford would have lived in a very spacious home. These lots were so close to the water that you could practically fish from your front porch, but they were smaller in size. If you wanted to live on a stand where you could barely hear the neighbors, then up the hill was the better choice.
“Now that you mention it,” Gavin rubbed his hands together, “I might just have the perfect property coming onto the market soon. Very soon, in fact. Just a couple of small administrative details to iron out, that’s all.”
“Really?” Autumn said, sounding as eager as she could. “Which house is that? Is it standing empty at the moment?”
“Not exactly.” Now, Gavin’s gaze slid away, suddenly shifty. “Not exactly. You see, there was a – um, well, the current owner tragically passed away. Not in the house, of course,” he added quickly. “At an event. It was a very sad set of circumstances, though fortuitous in that it allowed this amazing home to become available.”
He wasn’t quite rubbing his hands – but he almost was. He was clearly not in the least upset by the chain of events that had led to him being able to acquire this property for his books.
“Did you know much about what happened?” Ben asked.
Autumn was starting to worry, as they chatted. Both she and Ben were fairly well known on the island, although the estate agent himself was new to the area. But if somebody walked in who recognized either herself or Ben, then Gavin might start to get suspicious about why they were asking him, when they were locals who should already know the situation.
She found herself glancing nervously at the door when she heard footsteps and voices from beyond, as Gavin replied.
“Oh, I’m not sure myself, you know. It was at a local event, I believe. Maybe the excitement was too much for the poor man, and his heart failed, or he had a stroke. Something like that, but as I say, I’m really not sure. He was an artist, you know, and his sister has already been in touch with me about a possible sale, seeing she inherits from him. The home’s in immaculate condition.”
Autumn had to struggle to keep a straight face at that whopper about the excitement being too much for Stafford. Of course, Gavin knew the situation. But he didn't want to spook these potential buyers, and he wasn't giving away what he knew.
The fact he was willing to tell such a blatant lie was making Autumn extremely suspicious about his real motives and his past actions.
“So, what event was this exactly?” Ben asked. He’d obviously decided that it would be better to keep Gavin talking, and try to work the conversation around to his whereabouts at the time. Autumn thought it would have worked brilliantly, but then, what she’d been dreading happened.
Through the archway walked none other than Mrs. Hayman, accompanying a couple that Autumn had never seen before, and who she guessed immediately must be from the mainland.
Her gaze fell first on Ben, and Autumn saw the doting expression in her eyes. Then, her head turned, and she saw Autumn standing beside him.
The doting expression vanished, and in its place, she saw a glint of fury. Yet again, Autumn was monopolizing ‘her’ vet. Her thoughts were visible on her face.
Mrs. Hayman stared from one to the other of them, and then opened her mouth to speak, and Autumn knew that whatever she said was going to be the precursor to disaster.