Whiskey Beach Part 100

"Got it. You want a drink?"

"Could use something cold. It's been a long one."

"Let's see what we've got." Eli led the way back to the kitchen. "Did you get the impression Suskind wanted it for a residence or an investment property?"

"Investment. The purchase was through his company, and there was some talk about company use. There wasn't a lot of talk," Mike added as they reached the kitchen. "Most of the deal was long-distance. E-mail, phone."

"Mmm-hmm. We've got beer, juice, Gatorade, water, Mountain Dew and Diet Pepsi."

"Mountain Dew? I haven't had that since I was in college."

"Super juice. You want one?"

"Why not?"

"Let's take this outside, keep Barbie company."

Mike spent a moment giving the delighted dog a rub before sitting down, stretching his legs out. "Now this is what I'm talking about. The flowers look good, man."

"Credit Abra. I'm on watering detail though, so that counts."

He liked doing it, liked watching the colors and shapes she'd crowded into pots grow, the shrubs along the edges of the stone flower. Occasionally he considered working out here, but realized he'd never get anything done. He'd just sit as he was now, listening to the wind chimes play their tune along with the whoosh of the sea while he looked out at the water, with his dog sitting beside him.

"Have you seen any scantily clads yet through that thing?"

Eli glanced at the telescope. "Oh, one or two."

"I should get me one."

"Sad to say I've spent more time looking north. I've got a good view of Sandcastle from here."

"I was down that way today. It looks closed up."

"Yeah. He hasn't been there for a while."

"d.a.m.n shame to see it sit empty. I could rent it in a heartbeat-by the week, a long weekend."

Interested, Eli shifted. "I bet you could. Maybe you should give him a call, see if he's interested."

After another swing of Dew, Mike nodded. "I can do that. Do you really think this guy's been breaking in here, that he killed that PI?"

"I've been going at it from every angle, circling around. That's where I keep coming back."

"Then he'd be the one who hurt Mrs. Landon."

"I can't prove it, but yeah. If the rest fits, that fits."

"Son of a f.u.c.ker," Mike muttered, and opened his briefcase. "I've got his cell number in the file. Let's see what he has to say."

After opening the file, Mike punched the number into his phone. "Hey, hi there, Justin. It's Mike O'Malley, O'Malley and Dodd Properties up in Whiskey Beach. How are you doing today?"

Eli sat back, listened to Mike do his chatty salesman patter. And, he thought, the man he believed was responsible for death, for pain, for fear was speaking on the other end. The man who'd taken lives, and broken his own to bits.

And he couldn't reach him, not yet. Couldn't touch him, couldn't stop him. But he would.

"You've got my number if you change your mind. And if there's anything I can do for you down here, you just give me a call. We're having some beautiful weather this spring, and it promises to be a terrific summer. You ought to come up, take advantage of us... . Oh, I know how that goes. All right, then. Bye."

Mike clicked off the phone. "Just as stiff and unfriendly as I remember. They're not interested in renting the property at this time. Some noise about possible company or family use coming up. He's a busy man."

"How'd he find the property?"

"The Internet, bless it. He hit our webpage. He had three places earmarked to start. One's a block back so you lose the oceanfront, but it's a nice quiet street, and an easy walk to the beach. The other's just south, closer to our place, but the owners decided to pull it off the market, let it ride for another season. Good move, because we've booked it solid this summer."

Mike took a long pull of Mountain Dew. "Man, this takes me back. Anyway, we made an appointment. He wanted either me or Tony-Tony Dodd, my a.s.sociate-to show the properties. Insisted it had to be one of us. I got a note right here in the file because I got att.i.tude right off the get-go from him. No problem, a sale's a sale."

"He doesn't have time to waste on underlings. He's too important. I get him."

"Yeah, he made that clear," Mike agreed. "So, he comes in later that week. Expensive suit, two-hundred-dollar haircut. He's got that ent.i.tled, prep-school superiority all over him. No offense, you probably went to one."

"I did, and none taken. I know the type."

"Okay. He doesn't want coffee or small talk. He's on a schedule. But when I'm driving him down to look at the two properties, he asks about Bluff House. Everybody does, so I didn't think anything of it. I remember we had one of those smoky skies that day, cold, gloomy, and the house looked like something right out of a movie. Some old gothic film, you know, the way it sits up here. I give him the spiel, the history, the pirate deal because it always grabs a client's interest. And Christ, Eli, I hope to G.o.d I didn't say anything to bring this on."

"He already knew. He was here because he knew."

"I didn't like him, but I didn't jump to homicidal maniac or anything. Just tight-a.s.sed rich p.r.i.c.k. I showed him the place a block back first. Sandcastle's newer, bigger and a bigger commission. Plus I tagged him as going for the bigger. But I took him through the other. He asked what most people ask, did the wandering through, and out on the top deck. You can see the ocean from the deck."

"And Bluff House."

"Yeah. He wasn't too happy about the proximity of the other houses, wanted to know which ones had permanent residents, which were rentals. But that's not an unusual question. I took him down to Sandcastle. It's got some nice features, and the other houses aren't as close in. He spent a lot of time outside again, and yeah, you can see Bluff House from there.

"He met the asking price on the spot, which isn't usual. In fact, actually pretty d.a.m.n stupid in this market, since the sellers were prepared to go lower. But I just figured he thought d.i.c.kering was beneath him. I said how I'd take him to lunch, and we could deal with the paperwork, and I could contact the owners. Not interested."

With a sour look, Mike tapped the face of his own watch. "Tick, tick, tock, you know? I had to put the contract together quick and fast. He wrote a check for the earnest money, gave me his contact information. And took off. It's tough to complain about an easy sale, but he irritated me."

"And the rest? Did it go as fast and smooth?"

"Settled in thirty days. He came in, signed the papers, took the keys. He barely said anything more than yes or no. We do a nice welcome basket for new owners-a bottle of wine, some fancy cheese and bread, a potted plant, some coupons for local shops and restaurants. He left it sitting on the table. Couldn't be bothered to take it."

"He had what he wanted."

"I haven't seen him since. I wish I knew more, but if you figure out how to catch the b.a.s.t.a.r.d, you let me know. I'm all about being in that."

"I appreciate it."

"I'm going to get going. Look, why don't I throw some burgers on the grill tomorrow night. You and Abra come on over."

"It sounds good to me."