Below the Tree Line Read online

  “You okay?” Lance got out and peered into her open driver’s side window.

  Felicity apologized for her part in the near collision. “I had a shock this morning and I was heading into town without thinking. It’s a good thing to have to slow down. You’ve done me a favor.”

  “That sounds serious.” Lance leaned against the door.

  Felicity opened the door and climbed out of her pickup.

  “Anything I can help with?” Lance was bundled up for a day in the woods, either hers or someone else’s. His work boots had splatters of mud already, and his well-worn green plaid shirt looked soft and warm under his quilted vest and orange overvest. His peaked cap advertised the local hardware store.

  “I’m probably overreacting.” Felicity relaxed against the pickup. “Sasha Glover, as you may know, was Zeke Bodrun’s great granddaughter, and she inherited a piece of land that was once his.” As she heard herself describing the situation she wondered how Lance had come to be so pushy about her cutting plan, and whether he was treating other clients in the same way as he was treating her. At first he’d seemed so much more innocent than Kyle, whose blatant foray onto her land left her fuming.

  “Around here?”

  “It’s just off Old Town Road, but it extends up to my boundary.” She reminded herself to be cautious about sharing information with a man she no longer felt comfortable trusting. “Anyway, Kyle Morgan, that’s Sasha’s boyfriend, got the idea that Zeke had buried something valuable on his property, or at least something worth digging up, and I think that’s what he’s been doing.” She paused, surprised at how pale the forester suddenly became. “Lance, you look sick.”

  “No, I’m fine.” He raised his hands as if to stop any further expression of concern. “We both got off to a jolt of a start this morning, that’s all. And you have a lot to deal with. You’ve got some crazy guy tearing up your land.” He shook his head. “If I can do anything to help, let me know.”

  “I saw you at the funeral but we didn’t get a chance to speak.” Felicity felt better now that she had vented. “Do you know Kyle Morgan?” She wondered if this was the time to bring up the lottery tickets she’d seen him ripping up.

  “Not personally. I do know who he is.” Lance straightened up, his hands in his pockets. “Listen, I was coming by with the new plan. I simplified it and you can just sign it. I don’t want to add anything to your worries. You deal with that guy Kyle, and I’ll get on with the cutting, just a straight shot through the area we talked about. Nothing more. And I can get it into the mail for you.”

  “Lance, that’s great.” She was enormously relieved. She didn’t want to get into an argument with him, and she didn’t want to find herself probing him about lottery tickets. She wanted to move ahead, and she was sure he did too.

  “Here.” He hurried to his truck and pulled out a manila envelope. He drew out a single sheet and held it on the top of the packet. “I have a pen here too.” He handed her a pen and held the envelope in front of her so she could sign.

  Felicity grabbed the envelope and sheet on top and tossed both onto the passenger seat. She might agree verbally, but she was still going to read every word and double-check every figure. And she would file it herself. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I’ve had a chance to go over it.”

  “Right, of course, yeah, sure. I’ll get right to the rest of the paperwork,” he said, his glance lingering on the envelope.

  “The notices to abutters?”

  “That’s about it. Then I can get started.” Lance started to back away, then stopped. “Listen, Felicity, if I can do anything to help with the Kyle situation, let me know. I’d hate for it to lead to a lot of police business, and ill feeling and all of that.”

  “Thanks, Lance, I appreciate that. First Sasha dies in the woods, then Kyle is digging all over the place, and now some guy wants to buy my land at an exorbitant price.”

  “You have a buyer?”

  “Lance! You look even paler.” Felicity wondered if she’d missed something even more serious than his gambling. But then, land was his livelihood, and newcomers often had strange ideas about what to do with it. “I turned him down.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “So did Jeremy.” When she saw how relieved he was, she added, “But I have to be honest, Lance. Someday someone else will own Colson Farm and my place. It’s inevitable. And now that I’ve depressed myself again, I’d better get on to finding Kyle and laying down the law, or at least the boundaries.”

  Lance gave her a wave that was more of a salute and headed to his truck. As he backed up and drove away, Felicity felt a curious mixture of relief and anxiety. And then she remembered Kyle’s new holes and climbed back into her pickup.

  According to Helena Callahan, Kyle Morgan worked construction erratically and served pizza regularly on the weekend. His most recent job had been on the crew renovating the regional middle school in Durston. Felicity drove out to the middle school, hoping to find him there. Fortunately, she could recognize him by sight in case he was working.

  She drove into the dirt parking area, thinking it looked awfully quiet for a construction site, no cranes or large vehicles moving, no groups of men working, and then realized it was break time. She parked and approached the first person she encountered, an older man in a royal blue vest and yellow hard hat.

  “Kyle?” He asked the question with a hint of disapproval, and she didn’t blame him. No supervisor, which was what his badge indicated, wanted a worker to be interrupted during the workday.

  “It’s about a piece of land he’s been working on,” Felicity said.

  The supervisor frowned but seemed to think this was allowable. “Okay, five minutes. He’s over by the food truck.”

  Felicity thanked him and headed for the quilted silver truck, its sides open to display sandwiches, snacks, desserts, and drinks. Half a dozen men crowded around the salesman, but one separated himself from the crowd when he saw Felicity. Just as she knew she could recognize Kyle, Kyle could recognize her. He walked quickly to intercept her.

  “I saw you at the funeral,” he said. “Really sad about Sasha.” He glanced over his shoulder, barely concealing his concern over whether any of his coworkers could hear them. “Let’s go out here.” He led the way to a row of parked Durston city vehicles. “So, what can I do for ya?”

  With effort, Felicity stated her business in a calm, nonaccusatory manner. “I noticed that you’ve been doing some digging on Sasha’s piece of land, the piece her mother’s cousin gave her, Clarissa Jenkins.”

  “Yeah, that was Sasha’s. She was going to put my name on the deed, so it’s okay I’m there.” He leaned forward as he spoke, his lips twitching in anger.

  “Well, I don’t know about that,” Felicity said, reminding herself to be calm. “I have no idea what that’s all about, but I was out walking yesterday and I could see that your digging has extended onto my land.”

  “No, no. I’m not on your land.” He bent over, one hand on his hip and the other still holding a wrapped sandwich.

  “I’m afraid you are. I’ve done the blazing a number of times through the years. I know where the boundaries are.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Look, Kyle. I’m not wrong. I’ve never posted my land before but I’m going to post it now, all along that boundary. And once it’s posted, if I find you on it, I’m calling in Chief Algren and turning the problem over to him.”

  “I’m on Sasha’s land, which is really my land too.” He swaggered as he talked, but he was impressing no one but himself. And Felicity was growing frustrated.

  “What do you think you’re looking for, anyway?”

  And now he smirked. “I know what I’m looking for.”

  “I would hope so.” Felicity took a deep breath and turned to look at the men gathered around the food truck. They’d slowed th
eir business, taking time to watch her and Kyle, and she was sure that after she left, they’d quiz him and then tease him for the rest of the afternoon. And unless she’d misjudged Kyle, he’d let them think whatever they wanted about a woman who showed up at a construction site to argue with her man. “I’m going to post the land,” she repeated. “I had a survey done only ten years ago. I have GPS guides. I want you to stay off my property. I don’t care what you’re looking for. You’re not going to dig on my land.”

  Felicity stepped back, ready to walk away, but Kyle surprised her. She had to work to hear what he was saying, so soft had his voice become.

  “Look, let’s start over, okay?” He tried a friendly laugh as he watched her. “Sasha and me, we meant no harm. We’re just digging around, playing with an old map of stuff left by settlers.”

  Really, Felicity thought, this is even less believable than the story about hunting for buried treasure. “There’s only one cellar hole there.”

  “Yeah, right, we saw that.” He glanced over his shoulder again. He was a scrawny fellow, and his royal blue vest flapped loose even over a quilted work coat. “Suppose we have an understanding? You know, sort of like I had with Sasha?”

  “What understanding did you have with Sasha?”

  “We agreed to split whatever we found.”

  “I’m not interested in any idea of hidden treasure anywhere, on my property or anyone else’s.” Felicity again focused on speaking in a calm, measured voice. “I don’t want my land dug up for any reason, so I’m going to tell you again, stay off my property. I’m posting the boundary and I’ll have you arrested if you come onto my land again.” She heard herself saying these words, insistent and unambiguous, and yet at the same time she looked at Kyle and had the horrible feeling that he might have been the one to attack Clarissa and then kill Sasha.

  The whole scenario seemed to play out in front of her. Kyle pressed Clarissa for information, or even a share, and she rebuffed him, determined instead to see the land go to Sasha. Then he turned to Sasha, pressing her, and she refused. They fought, and she told him it was over. If she threatened to sell the land or give it to her mother, then Kyle would have been out of luck if he’d found anything. Whoever owned the land would figure out pretty fast that Kyle was looking for something and perhaps find the money to dig more methodically and successfully. If Kyle really believed he was onto something big, he might have thought killing Clarissa and Sasha would be worth it in the end. And here she was, telling him to stay off her land or else.

  And that, thought Felicity as she walked back to her pickup, was about as empty a threat as anyone could come up with. She’d have to sit out there twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, with a weapon to back that up. She could only pray that Kyle took her at her word and stopped digging.

  Twenty

  The Kimball Hardware Store advertised itself as the one stop for all your farm needs except the animals. That was mostly true, the operative word being mostly. Felicity hoped today the ad would be accurate. She rummaged through the back aisles until she found what she was looking for: a box of Posted signs, printed on floppy mylar. She knew she needed one approximately every five hundred feet, but she figured for the section that ran along Sasha Glover’s lot, a sign every one hundred feet might be better. The box seemed almost full, so she took about half and hoped that would be enough.

  She hated the idea of posting her land—it seemed so unneighborly, especially toward people she’d known her entire life—but she felt Kyle had pushed her into it, giving her no choice but to respond to his refusal to acknowledge that he had crossed the line. First he’d been adamant that he wasn’t on her land. And then he was smarmy in trying to talk her into going into the treasure hunting business with him. The whole thing made her skin crawl. She felt sick at the thought of it.

  She paid for the signs, clutched them to her chest, and crossed the parking lot to her pickup. When she saw Chief Algren coming toward her, she waited by the open truck door.

  “I thought I’d tell you, your visiting Zenia Callahan in the nursing home and your friend visiting also was a nice thing to do,” Kevin said. “What? What’s that look for? I can offer a genuine compliment, can’t I? You did visit her, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I did. But I didn’t take any friends along.” Felicity noticed his eyes flicker and recognized the look he got when he was thinking one thought and articulating another. “Why? What did she say?”

  “Only that you came by to offer your condolences for Sasha because you found her on your land.” He lowered his voice. “She hasn’t lost her mental faculties. She was quite clear that your friend came by also.”

  “I went alone.”

  “Your friend came by and they chatted about old times.” He waited. “You don’t recall who that might be?”

  Felicity shook her head. “Maybe she has me mixed up with her daughter?”

  “Don’t think so.” Kevin shook his head. “She described him and it sounded like Jeremy Colson. And I thought that would make sense, you and Jeremy being good friends and all.”

  “Why would Jeremy go out to visit Zenia Callahan?” Felicity shifted the box of signs from one arm to the other. “You’re sure about that? It wasn’t another relative who came by or a friend of Helena’s?”

  “She described a man who visited her a few times, but she couldn’t remember his name.” Kevin began to step around her. “There’s no great mystery here, Felicity. She just got mixed up. Can’t remember the name. But she enjoyed the visits, and I was going to tell you it was a nice thing to do for her, but if you didn’t do anything, nothing more to say.”

  “I did visit her.” Felicity could feel something nagging at her. But she could see in Kevin’s expression a hint of warning. “I wanted to ask her about that cabin of her dad’s, but it didn’t feel right. Who owns that now? You never said if Zenia did.”

  “She doesn’t. I just got the name of the owner in a report from the state detective.”

  “So who sold her dad’s cabin?”

  “She did, a few years ago. Before she went into the nursing home, which wasn’t all that long ago. She comes from sturdy stock.”

  “Who bought it? Anyone we know?”

  “Don’t you pay attention to land sales, Felicity?”

  “For a piece of land like that?”

  “Some company bought it from Zenia for not much money. Of course, it wasn’t worth much. Still isn’t.” Kevin began to back away. “But since forensics found no evidence that Sasha Glover had ever been in the cabin, I have no interest in it whatsoever.”

  “Some company bought it?” Felicity wondered why she hadn’t heard more about this. “And it’s a company paying the taxes on it?”

  “Such as they are.”

  “Maybe that’s why Jeremy went to see Zenia, to buy some of her land.” Felicity pulled out her keys. “But Helena said her mother transferred all the land to her, and now she also inherits Sasha’s little piece of land.”

  “Not my concern.”

  “And nothing new about Clarissa and Sasha’s … ” Felicity couldn’t bring herself to describe their deaths as murder. Every time she tried, the word caught in her throat.

  Kevin reached out and squeezed her arm. “Stick to your farm, Felicity. Give my best to your dad.” He headed into the hardware store, leaving her standing by her truck. She waited until his figure disappeared into the store and down an aisle, and then climbed into her pickup and headed to Town Hall, his advice forgotten.

  Felicity spent less than an hour in the assessor’s office. Afterward, she drove straight to Jeremy’s current construction site. She parked in front of his trailer office and waited inside it until someone told him that a car had driven up. Jeremy rounded the half-built house and crossed to the trailer, which tipped a bit as he climbed in. He offered her a can of iced tea and took one for himself from the small r
efrigerator in the kitchen area. He sat down opposite her in the small booth.

  The iced tea was cold, but there was not much more Felicity could say for it. Jeremy took two phone calls on his cell before turning to her with a smile. “You’re busy, I’m busy. What’s up?”

  She repeated her conversation with Kevin Algren. “Were you the man visiting Zenia Callahan?”

  Jeremy shook his head. “I’ve no interest in her land. I work with a developer who buys, then I build and move on. I know the Bodrun family, sort of, and I know they don’t have anything that a developer would want.”

  Felicity slouched in the booth. “Some company named Treeline Properties bought the land the old cabin sits on.”

  Jeremy repeated the name, then shook his head. “Don’t know them. Not the kind of name you’d expect from someone around here. We’re nowhere near the tree line. We’re only about five hundred feet above sea level, and the tree line in New England is about four thousand feet. Maybe up in New Hampshire or Maine it might work, but not around here. It’s also too rustic, too woodsy. People who want to develop around here go for things like Pheasant Run and Fox Hollow.”

  “Do pheasants run?”

  Jeremy shrugged. “Have no idea. I’ve never seen one.” He leaned back and reached for his iced tea. “Must be a couple of guys trying to take their camping and hunting site off their taxes, like a business expense.”

  “The only name I got from the assessors’ office was a lawyer in Albany.” Felicity twirled the can with her fingers, watching the condensation leave little rivulets on the Formica tabletop.

  “You checked?”

  “Just now, after talking to Kevin. I never thought much about this until last week, but the list of property owners and the taxes we pay just sits on the counter in that computer printout for all the world to see.” Felicity grew thoughtful.