Barbara’s house was armed and she deactivated the alarm system with a key fob before unlocking the door to her utility room and switching on the light. “Follow the corridor to the third door. I’ll be in the kitchen.”
Recessed LED lights illuminated the hallway and the series of framed photos she had on her walls. Family, it seemed. A younger version of her with a boy in some snapshots who turned into a gawky-looking teen in others. I rushed to the bathroom, flushed the toilet and turned on the water in the sink. Then, with the door still closed, I darted in and out of the rooms on that side of the house.
No sign that Eli or Stuart had been there. Not as much as an empty candy wrapper in one of the trash baskets. But one thing was for sure: they were right about Barbara’s perfume. It was noticeable the second she approached Theo’s car and it all but permeated her house.
I raced back to the bathroom, shut off the water and meandered down to the kitchen. The master bedroom was to my right and I peered in. Sterile as could be. I glanced at the photos on the opposite wall from where I looked before. Other than two formal graduate photos of the boy in prior pictures, the remaining ones were mostly beach and lake scenes.
Then I spied the one wall hanging that changed everything. It was a group photo of twenty or thirty preteen boys taken in front of a traditional New England school—one that I recognized immediately since I had driven past it numerous times. It was a Pittsford prep school, and if I wasn’t mistaken, it was the one Emerson Boyd attended. Rosalee mentioned it at that WOW meeting a while back but I glossed over the details.
In that split second, a zillion random thoughts bombarded me, and the one person who could piece them together was Rosalee herself. I pulled my cell phone from my pocket, snapped a picture of the school boys along with another photo of young Barbara with the awkward teen and walked toward the kitchen. Barbara was on the phone and I held my breath as I listened to her side of the conversation.
“Slow down. You’re garbling your words. I just got in the door. How did they—? I see. You drove to your lake house on the Bluff first. And you had no idea? Yes, I’ll call him. He’s on my payroll, so to speak. Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime.”
She ended the call and nearly collided with me in the hall. I smiled and pointed to the wall. “Nice family photos. I should get going. Thanks again.”
“Can you see your way out? I need to make a phone call.”
“No problem. Have a good evening.”
I left the same way we entered, through the utility room and out the garage. No sooner had I made it to her driveway than I heard the garage door close behind me. Theo started up the car and I dove into the passenger’s seat.
I was so pumped and nervous, I didn’t get the words out until he exited Barbara’s condo development. “I overheard Barbara on the phone. If I’m right, I know where those boys are. But they may be in trouble if we don’t move fast. It was in front of us all the time. Give me a second. I have to call Rosalee to be sure.”
“Huh? Rosalee? You’ll be waking her up from a dead sleep. Heck, she’s ornery as hell if you call her after eight.”
“This can’t wait. I’ll put the call on speaker so you can hear.”
The phone rang four times before Rosalee picked up, and I didn’t give her a chance to say anything before I spoke. “Rosalee, it’s Norrie. Sorry if I woke you but this is a matter of life and death. Or close to it. When we mentioned Emerson Boyd at WOW, you said you knew his mother. Said she was hoity-toity and that Boyd was her first husband’s last name.”
“What’s that got to do with life and death?”
“If it’s who I think she is, she may be responsible for the whereabouts of those missing boys. Not to mention Davis Brewer and Frank Liguori’s deaths. Do you know what her maiden name was?”
“What the heck time is it? Is it after midnight? I don’t even remember what I ate for dinner, let alone someone’s maiden name. Is it that important?”
“Yes!”
“Call me back in ten minutes. It will take me that long to get my hat box down from the closet.”
Theo poked my elbow as he drove. “Hat box? She may still be sleeping.”
“She’s probably got old files and letters in hat boxes. Cheaper than springing for file cabinets. Must be a thing around here. Holy geez, I hope I’m right. I don’t want to say it out loud or I may jinx it.”
I really need to distance myself from Zenora . . .
I tapped on the console, fiddled with the AC and readjusted my seat belt a few times. “Has it been ten minutes yet? I’m calling her back.”
“More like six or seven minutes. I’d wait if I were you. Don’t want to risk her falling off a chair or something. She’s not a spring chicken.”
“No kidding.”
Two more seat belt adjustments and I phoned Rosalee. This time she spoke before I could utter a word. “Nearly knocked myself over the head getting the damn thing down from the closet. It’s one of the places where I keep my old taxes. Give me a minute to root through it.”
Theo opened his mouth and then bit down. Presumably not to laugh. I put a finger over my lips and moved the phone closer to him so we could catch Rosalee’s every word.
“I always keep the letters from my accountant along with the tax information. This box goes back thirty-seven years.”
“You don’t have to keep them longer than seven years.”
“Who was that?” Rosalee sounded annoyed.
“Theo. He’s with me. He’s driving my car. Long story.”
“Harrumph. I’m still looking.”
The crunchy sound of paper shuffling followed by a few “drats” and “damnits” finally came to a halt. “Here it is. From the office of Virgil Perimann, CPA. It’s a long laundry list of crapola I had to send their way—insurance verifications, utility bills, and who knows what. Anyway, here’s the information you wanted. It’s signed by his secretary, Barbara Stanowicz. Guess that was the last name before she suckered Boyd’s father into marrying her.”
Rosalee went on and on for a few seconds, but once I heard the name Stanowicz, it was like slipping the jigsaw puzzle pieces in place without forcing them to bend.
“You’re a lifesaver, Rosalee! A lifesaver! Now you can get back to sleep.”
“Fat chance. The corgis all woke up and I need to let them out. Call me tomorrow if it turns out that she-witch is responsible for murder.”
“Stanowicz. Did you hear that, Theo? Stanowicz. It was right under our eyes all along but we never made the connection. No wonder the guy freaked out when I pretended to be from an insurance company and said his passenger wanted to sue him. Yikes! It was his mother! I feel like a royal idiot. Look, I’ve got one more call to make and we’ll be all set. But first I think you’d better phone Don and tell him we’re going to be very, very late.”
“Why?”
“Because we need to find a house on the bluff. Barbara said Boyd went their first. Most likely our two rascals slipped out.”
• • •
Unlike the long, narrow lakes in the rest of the Finger Lakes, Keuka Lake is Y-shaped, and in the center of that Y is an amazing bluff that overlooks both sides of the lake. Homes on that bluff are definitely HGTV material and their owners tend to be Rochester CEOs, politicians, or hospital administrators. In this case, I was looking for the home of a snarky wine publicist whose next abode could very well turn out to be a state-run prison.
“I’ve got to call Stephanie,” I said, “and see if she can narrow down the location of Boyd’s lake house or we’ll be driving around all night.”
“Not we’ll. I’ll be driving around all night while you spout off theories.”
“This isn’t a theory. It’s the connection that puts all the players together. Listen for a minute. Barbara had an affair with Brewer and he dumped her so she wanted to get even. Revenge! One of the oldest motives going. So, what did she do?”
“Uh, kill him in our neighbor’s vineyard and dump the body in the woods?”
“Not quite. Although someone did. I think she got even by financing Kelsey Arnet’s new seasonal worker business. That’s what Eli overheard. Her revenge was to put Brewer out of business.”
“Where does Boyd fit in? You think he was the one who killed Brewer for giving his mother the brush-off?”
“No, not Boyd. Not that murder, anyway. Think back to the events. Catherine said her husband got into a heated argument with Brewer. He then upped the ante by picking up the phone and calling a competitor—Kelsey Arnet. Then he stormed out of the office and into one of the vineyards to cool off. Only Brewer followed him. But that wasn’t all. I believe Kelsey showed up and saw the men, still arguing in the vineyard. That argument turned ugly and Kelsey wound up killing Brewer.”
“What about Catherine’s husband? Think he just stood there and watched?”
“I think he left before any of that happened. And he certainly didn’t say anything to the sheriff’s deputies because he didn’t want his winery to be implicated in a homicide.”
“Go on.”
“Kelsey panicked and called Barbara, who in turn got her son Emerson to deal with the body. She had no choice. If Kelsey got arrested for murder, her money would have gone straight down the drain. So, Boyd and Kelsey had to roll the body out of the vineyard and get it in Boyd’s car. That would explain why Brewer looked as if he was an accident victim. No one noticed the stab wound at first.”
“I’m listening.”
“Boyd probably parked his car at the base of one of the vineyard roads. Then Kelsey had to take Brewer’s keys and drive Brewer’s car away from Lake View Winery before hopping into Boyd’s car for a ride back to his own vehicle. That’s why Godfrey and I couldn’t find keys or other ID on the body.”
“Brewer’s car is probably sitting on some dirt road somewhere.”
“Yep.”
“But what about the vineyard workers? Wouldn’t they have noticed an altercation?”
“Not if they were in another section. Heck, the vines are in full bloom. From a distance it’s hard to see anything.”
“There are a lot of gaps in your scenario but I have to admit, it works. But we’re dealing with two murders, not one.”
“And two missing kids. I need to call Stephanie. This can’t wait.”
I pulled up my list of phone contacts and tapped her name.
A groggy voice answered three rings later. “This better be important, Norrie, because it’s quarter to eleven. Derek’s sound asleep so I have to whisper.”
“It is important. I think Eli Speltmore and his friend are hiding out in Emerson Boyd’s lake house on the bluff.”
“You mean kidnapped?”
“Not kidnapped. I think Boyd was in Dresden at the rental house his mother owns and the boys must have overheard him talking about a murder. Why else would they have covered up their bikes and snuck into his car? You know how reckless those two are. Always looking for an adventure. If they were worried about being caught, they would have gotten on their bikes and would have taken off. They had no idea Boyd would drive all the way to his lake house.”
“Maybe. But wouldn’t he have seen them?”
“Apparently not. Not if he was talking with someone else. Plus, Eli and Stuart are as slippery as can be. But get this—Boyd didn’t plan on staying at the lake house. He went there first but was headed to his other house in Brighton. He had no idea he dropped those two hellions at his summer home. I overheard his mother on the phone and I’m sure that’s what happened.”
“Whose mother? Boyd’s?”
“Yes. And you won’t believe who it is—Barbara Stanowicz. Brewer’s former secretary. That’s the missing puzzle piece. I’ll fill you in later but I need to know which house it is. There are zillions of those mega-mansions on the bluff.”
“I don’t have a road number but I can tell you this much. It’s between Skyline and West Bluff Drive. North side on the hill. And you can’t miss it if Boyd didn’t exaggerate. The light-sensitive windows weren’t his only bragging points. The place has two grand fireplaces, stone veneer and water features.”
“Water features?”
“Yeah, that blowhard had a man-made waterfall border the property. I wouldn’t put it past him if it had a light display. I’d better let you go so you can give the sheriff’s deputies that description.”
“Um, actually, I’m the one who needed it. Theo and I are heading to the bluff.”
“That’s not a good move. Call the sheriff’s office.”
“I will. Once I get there and find the boys.”
“Norrie, I—”
“Don’t worry. We’ll be fine. And thanks, Stephanie. Sorry for waking you.”
Theo glanced at me and then back to the road, “She’s right, you know. We should call the sheriff’s office.”
“We will. Once we have something to tell them.”