HOME OFTHE RED FOX - Segment Nineteen

Chapter 91

         “Randall,” Angela heard the other man say, “it’s good to see you again.” Somehow, his words did not ring true to her. Those words, though, did cause her boss slowly to remove his arms from around the woman. Angela realized this had to be Samantha. Randall had described her in glowing terms to his crew on returning from his previous visit here. Angela had prepared herself to like the woman, if only because Samantha had made her longtime friend and boss, the science nerd, think of something, for once, besides work.

         Introductions finally made all around, everyone headed into the mansion to get out of the winter cold. With Jack escorting Mary, while Randall never left Samantha’s side, Angela found herself walking beside her host. The children raced on ahead, leaving the six adults to make a more leisurely entrance into the warm mansion. Remembering his manners, Walker turned to the silent woman beside him. “I’m glad finally to meet you. Randall talked constantly about his crew, you especially.”

         His deep baritone voice made those simple words sound like a caress to Angela. Her divorce years ago had soured her on most men, especially handsome middle-aged ones like Walker. Looking into his friendly blue eyes, she found herself revising her opinion. Maybe not all men are self-centered bastards, she thought, forgetting, as she usually did, Randall and the others she worked with were men, too.

         “Randall has told us so much about your magnificent home,” she said, looking around her at the large front room. “I see he didn’t lie, as we accused him of doing.” Walker’s laughing brought her attention back to him, while everyone turned towards them to see what was so funny. “Well,” she continued, ignoring everyone but Walker, “we have known him to stretch the truth now and then. Randall said you have a cavern below this place. How is that for a whopper of a fib?”

         “Well, Angela, it is, of sorts. There are three caverns below us, not one.” Walker had stopped laughing, but his eyes still sparkled with humor as he said this. “After all of you have rested from your long trip, I’d be more than happy to show you around them.”

         Samantha had overheard this part of their conversation and joined in. “Wait until you see the waterfall and pool. Beautiful!” She looked at Randall, who was standing next to her. “Did you find out anything else about the bone Jack found down there?”

         When he shook his head, she looked disappointed for a moment and remembered what they had discovered in Mrs. Edgeworth’s journals. She felt for sure the bone belonged to the missing child, Hannah, and hoped Randall could help prove it during his visit.

         For now, though, all mysteries within the mansion could wait. Jack volunteered to take the three San Franciscans to their rooms to freshen up before dinner. After calling the elevator back to the first floor, Samantha brought the two over-stimulated children up to their own rooms for a quick nap. Joshua complained loudly he was too old for a nap. He fell asleep, though, seconds after Samantha had tucked him into his bed. She stood there for a few minutes watching the two sleeping children she had grown to love.

         When she returned downstairs to rejoin Walker and Jack, the three friends sat on the front room sofas to discuss their plans for the next day. First on the agenda, after breakfast, was to show the forensic agents around Charlie Maxwell’s room. Walker was anxious to have the cause of his death uncovered and to know whether it had been murder. He felt uncomfortable with a possible murderer still at large in his mansion.

         The food, a few hours later in the dining room, was delicious. A constantly smiling Geoffrey had returned to cooking perfect meals, his recent, practically inedible meals forgiven and forgotten. Mary decided to forgo her diet while at the mansion, as she smelled the delectable slice of roast pork on her plate. Mashed sweet potatoes, dotted with slowly melting butter, and tiny fresh peas accompanied the meat. A bowl of homemade applesauce beside her plate sent up a subtle hint of cinnamon. Just smelling the meal, she thought, is enough to put on five pounds.

         As if reading her mind, Jack leaned over from his chair next to hers to whisper, “Wait until you see what the chef made for dessert. Be sure to leave some room for it.” Mary groaned and started laughing. Her return to San Francisco would be soon enough to worry about any gained weight. While here, she was going to do full justice to the chef’s meals and proceeded to do so.

         Finishing off the meal were slices of a decadently rich chocolate cake topped with hot fudge and freshly whipped cream. After dinner, Walker invited his old and new friends up to his apartment for coffee. Thus, the first day of the San Franciscans’ visit ended peacefully.

Chapter 92

         After breakfast, Walker and Samantha took Randall and Angela to the second floor. Meanwhile, Jack volunteered to show Mary around the mansion. Later in the day, they planned on viewing Charlie’s rooms since it would be too crowded for everyone to be there at the same time.

         Walker unlocked the door to Charlie’s suite and let the two forensic agents enter before he did. He and Samantha stood quietly out in the small hallway between the kitchen and bathroom and watched them first examine the kitchen. They found nothing probative there and moved on to the bathroom. In the medicine cabinet by the sink, Angela found a bottle for over-the-counter diuretic pills, commonly used for weight loss. “Was the man overweight?” She asked Walker, going over to the bathroom door to show him the bottle.

         “No, he was svelte, not heavy.”

         “Curious.” When Angela said this, she put the empty bottle into an evidence bag she had taken out of a small leather case she brought with her. Randall had a case of his own made of lightweight aluminum. He was checking out the small shelves next to the tub and found only towels and washcloths there. On noting they were all a lovely shade of hot pink, he looked over at Walker, saying nothing. Walker grinned and knew Randall had the wrong idea about the older man. If anything, Charlie had loved women too well and had no romantic notions about men.

         Next, the four of them wandered into the bedroom where Walker, Samantha, and the maid had found Charlie’s body on the floor. Since no one had been in the closed rooms since then to clean it, the smell on the carpet was strong. Because of the diuretic, Charlie’s bladder had drenched the carpet in urine at the moment of his death. The powerful smell did not bother Randall and Angela, having come across worse with many decomposing bodies in their line of work.

         Samantha went to the window on the opposite side of the bed and opened it wide. Cold winter air rushed inside, dissipating the smell a little, though not completely. She decided it would be better, with her delicate nose, to wait out in the living room, and her boss followed her. Walker hardly noticed the urine smell, but was curious about the contents of a small writing desk he had seen in the bedroom. He knew it was up to the two still in the room to investigate and waited impatiently for what they would tell him.

         While Samantha and Walker sat in the living room quietly talking, Randall went to the desk and pulled out various papers. These included past-due bills that were of no particular interest to him. Opening the drawer at the left of the desk’s kneehole, he found bundles of letters tied in a variety of colored ribbons. “Angela, I think I found something here.” When she came to check it out, Randall handed her one of the bundles.

         She sat on the chair by the desk and looked at the postmark on the top letter. “It’s dated 1951.”

         “Here’s one mailed in 1983.” Randall thumbed through the rest in his packet of letters. “They all were mailed in the 1980s.” He pulled out the rest of the letters from the desk drawer and started looking at the postmarks. After checking the top letter of each, he put them in order by dates on top of the desk. In all, there were six bundles, each from a different decade. They started in the 1940s and ended in the late 1990s.

         Randall asked, “Love letters?” Angela looked at him for asking such an obvious question and wondered how men can be so dense at times. Of course they were love letters, she thought, but from whom? Will we find the answer to his death here?

Chapter 93

         Randall and Angela brought the bundles of letters into the living room to show Walker and Samantha what they had found. The four each picked a letter from a decade to read.

         While this was going on, life continued downstairs. Dr. Ellison, Harriet to her friends, was sitting in the dining room with a widely beaming Chef Geoffrey. They were sharing a coffee break and planning their first real date.

         “There’s a new one at the Rialto,” said Harriet, mentioning the only movie house in the region. It had seen better days, but still attracted a good crowd on weekends. The films shown there ran the gamut from G-rated Disney movies to the gash-and-slash type preferred by teenage boys. “Tonight they’re showing the newest William Petersen movie.”

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         Geoffrey grimaced at Harriet’s comment. He remembered how the ladies at the mansion, young and not so young, used to flock around the television set. Walker had given in to the entreaties of his guests and installed a large plasma TV in one of the recreation rooms. After that, some shows became favorites of the guests, CSI for the women and any noisy sport for the men.

         Much as Geoffrey dreaded seeing Harriet swoon over the man up on the movie screen, he wanted to have their first date memorable. The two agreed to head into town later for dinner at an Italian restaurant first before taking in the movie.

         While these two made their plans for the date, a loud and spirited conversation was going on in the ballroom. Five women were discussing the Valentine’s Day dance. They had all volunteered to decorate the large room, even though they had differing opinions. Little Jessie Hilton, she of the admiring eye for the male species, preferred the traditional red hearts and roses of the holiday. The second woman was Beatrice Walsh, a quiet woman who often took care of Sue Beth and Joshua. She looked around and opted for pink crepe paper draped all over the room, but two of the other women loudly overruled her.

         Paula Hutchinson patted Beatrice on the back. “Don’t worry, Bea, we can use pink in the tablecloths.” She turned back to the other women with a frown. They were ashamed of behaving so rudely to their sweet, unassuming friend. After hastily reassuring Beatrice they would use pink in the room somewhere, Rose Cochran and Sylvia Goldman joined Paula in comforting her. Jessie stood there, shaking her head in disbelief at all the fuss made over the ballroom’s color scheme. To her, deciding which man would take her to the dance was a much more important decision. The five women settled down, with hurt feelings soothed, to finish planning the dance.

         At the front of the mansion, the never-ending poker games were going on in the first corridor’s game rooms. The chairs changed occupants off and on with a wide assortment of men and women loving the particular game. Down the second corridor, half a dozen men gathered in the model train room having the time of their lives. They made the little trains run through tunnels and up hills to miss crashing into one another by mere inches.

         Behind the third corridor door with “Photography” on it, Franklin White was showing Sally Deakins, a second-floor maid, how to use one of his more complicated cameras. She was learning the art of photography from him and proving to be a quick study. “Do you think I can help you take pictures at the dance?” The young woman asked, dreading his refusal. She often found it hard to believe such a famous photographer was taking the time to teach her. Franklin, on the other hand, felt honored to have such an eager student.

         Up in Charlie Maxwell’s suite, letters from Agnes written during the 1940s and from Carla married to Charlie from 1963 to 1965 had been read. Agnes filled her letters with sweet nothings of a young woman in love. These letters had the four adults in the room, some teetering on the edge of middle age, remembering their first loves. Carla’s sense of joyful living, even back then, came through in her letters. Samantha, reading them aloud, was surprised her marriage to Charlie lasted just three years.

         Angela decided to read the ones written during the 1950s last and put the few letters tied in a pink ribbon aside. Instead, she took out a 1976 love letter from Darlene and handed it to Randall. Maybe calling it a love letter was a misnomer. Darlene wrote with a firm hand in a no-nonsense manner about her affection for Charlie. While Randall read it to the others, he occasionally looked up at the two women sitting in the room with him. He caught Walker also watching them and knew the other man was also thankful they were more like Carla and not Darlene.

         A bundle of letters by Charlie’s wife Esther revealed nothing new, except she never knew about his previous wives. The most recently written letters were from Frances and revealed the postmark of a town 30 miles away. Finally, the four had read all the letters except those few from the 1950s Angela had saved for last. They tucked the letters already read back into their envelopes and retied the wrinkled ribbons around them.

         “Well, folks, if Charlie’s pattern holds true,” said Walker, taking those last few letters from Angela, “these should be from his B wife.” He opened the first of the three letters and started reading it to himself.

         “Come on, Walker, what’s the signature on it?” Samantha got up from her chair to sit beside him on the small sofa. When he flipped to the last page of the letter, she looked with him at the last line. “Belle? His second wife’s name is Belle, but I wonder if it’s short for something else.”

         It was, and they would soon find out what, but not before discovering how dangerous an unstable Belle could be.

Chapter 94

         The letters from the wives finally all read, they examined the desk for more information, with none found. The four agreed to take some time off from the search of Charlie’s rooms. The thought was fresh eyes in the afternoon might discover more clues about his death. Randall suggested they show Angela the caverns meanwhile. They left the apartment and headed down the long corridor to the stairways.

         “Oh, yes,” said Samantha, turning to the woman walking next to her. “Wait until you see the waterfall and pool.” She looked back at Walker to see if he remembered their visit to the caverns during Randall’s previous trip to the mansion. That time, when he noticed she had disappeared, Walker found her singing by the pool, bare feet dangling in the icy water.

         Her boss was also thinking back on Randall’s last visit. He remembered the obvious look of jealousy on Samantha’s face whenever the San Franciscan mentioned Angela’s name. So far, Angela showed no sign of being in love with Randall, or he with her.

          They could just be hiding their attraction to each other from us, he thought. I can’t watch Sam being hurt. For that reason, and that reason only, he decided to forego the trip to the caverns this time. When they reached the stairs, he stopped and said quickly, “Sam, I’m begging off, as I have to check something in my office.” His excuse sounded lame even to him, but they accepted it without hesitation.

          Samantha hardly looked at him when she and the two visitors got to the stairway. As they walked down to the first floor, Samantha started laughing at something Randall said. Walker frowned as he went up one flight and wondered why it bothered him to know Randall could make her laugh so easily. He wanted Sam to be happy, and it seemed Randall managed that.

         Instead of going up the next floor to his apartment, he decided to visit his hidden room once more. Maybe exploring it further would put him in a better mood. Reaching it, he unlocked the door with the room key he now always carried with him. As usual, Walker first headed for the large desk. He opened a drawer on the right of the kneehole that he had never searched before.

         Inside were ledgers and notebooks with inside pages turning yellow and brittle with age. Skimming through one ledger, he recognized the cramped stingy handwriting of Jason Edgeworth. Walker remembered how difficult it was to read the handwriting on original documents when buying the mansion. Thinking to save his eyesight from further abuse, he gathered the various written items and the remainder of the drawer’s contents. After placing everything in an empty box, he left the room, once again locking the door behind him.

         Upstairs in the comfort of his office, Walker took the items out and placed them on his large desk. One pile contained the ledgers, and a second one was of notebooks. Putting them aside to read at his leisure, he slowly examined the remaining items.

         What first caught his attention was a knife. The handle was plain hardwood, while the blade was long, at least eight inches long. It looked like an ordinary kitchen knife except for what looked like dried blood covering the blade. Maybe he used it to kill an animal, Walker thought, putting the knife aside.

         He had no idea how close to the truth he was.

Chapter 95

         With Randall and Samantha walking in front of her, Angela had time to examine the other woman. After his return to San Francisco from his previous visit to the mansion, Randall constantly talked about the beautiful redhead he had met. Mary was prepared to dislike Randall’s so-called “perfect woman”. Angela had to admit, although Samantha was far from perfect, she could see why Randall admired her.

         “Samantha, have you worked for Walker long?” Angela asked, as they descended the stairs to the cavern. Wealthy men and their belongings normally did not impress her. However, Walker’s mansion was the most magnificent home she had ever seen.

         “I’ve been with him since he started looking for a place to live.” Samantha smiled when she remembered her first glimpse of the building. “That was a couple years ago, and a lot has happened.”

         Randall interrupted, “Right, and maybe even a murder to solve…or two.” He appeared happy when he said this. He reached the bottom of the stairs and stood aside to let the two women enter the cavern first. He and Samantha silently watched Angela glance around, a look of awe on her face.

         Even though it was the smallest of the three caverns, the area still was immense. Over the past months, workers had smoothed out sharp edges in the limestone and installed indirect lighting fixtures throughout the area. When Samantha turned off the lights, phosphorescence in the walls caused the room to appear a soft dusk-like blue. After letting the two visitors admire this for a couple minutes, she turned the lights back on.

         “Is the cavern how you remember it?” she asked the man who was quietly standing by the doorway.

         Still looking around, Randall shook his head. “Not exactly. Walker’s made some improvements here, I see.” He walked to one side of the cavern and ran his hand slowly over the smooth wall. He knew it was his imagination, but the limestone felt soft and warm to the touch. It had to be the glow from the lights, he thought, noticing they were a soft peach color. The damp chill he remembered so well from before no longer was noticeable. “Jack found a way to heat down here?” he asked, already knowing the answer. Walker counted on his idea man and good friend to solve problems. Randall knew Jack rarely let him down.

         “It took a few weeks to figure out how. Jack, of course, came through, as usual”. After saying these words of praise for her friend, Samantha led Angela and Randall towards the right side of the cavern. “Wait until you see what he did to the second cavern.” It took a short walk down the corridor for them to reach the area.

         “My God, it’s breathtaking,” whispered Angela. Randall silently agreed, looking around him. Samantha just stood by the entrance, filled with the joy she always felt when in this cavern. Again, pale peach lighting gave the cavern a soft warm glow. The limestone walls were smooth to the touch, and the floor was now evened out, making walking over it easier and safer. What drew the eyes first, though, was the sparkling waterfall. The sound it made was almost musical, with the swiftly flowing water that came out of the high ceiling ending in a crystal clear pool.

         The pool no longer resembled the uncomfortable and dangerous place Randall originally saw months earlier. Still in its original large irregular shape, the pool, now with smooth edges, invited people to enter it. He reached down to test the icy water, and it surprised him to find it warm. “Jack again?” he asked, laughing. He motioned Angela over for a closer view of the pool.

         “Of course, Jack again.” Just as Samantha answered Randall’s rhetorical question with her laughing reply, she jumped nearly out of her skin at hearing a low voice behind her whispering in her ear.

Continued in next segment.

HOME OF THE RED FOX - Segment Twenty  (18+) Chapters 96 thru 100 #1082623 by J. A. Buxton