She couldn’t imagine anyone buying this town house with its estimated price tag. The price per square foot was over $2500. The price per square foot in Willow Creek could run between $100 and $150. Yes, there was that much difference.
Daisy’s heart thumped hard. If it weren’t so cold out, she’d probably be sweating. As it was, she was hot, even in thirty-two-degree weather. She climbed up the eight steps to the covered entrance trimmed in white. A ceramic pot with a decorative spiral evergreen stood in the corner of the porch.
After Daisy rang the bell, the intercom crackled and a male voice asked, “Who’s there?”
Daisy should have suspected she would have to identify herself before making contact. “My name is Daisy Swanson. I own a tea garden in Willow Creek, Pennsylvania. I’d like to talk to the homeowner, if that’s possible.”
The silent pause stretched her nerves even more taut.
Finally, the man said, “I need to see ID before I talk to you.”
“No problem,” she agreed, her voice a bit squeaky.
Not two minutes later, a tall man possibly in his late forties opened the door. He wore designer label slacks, a navy cashmere sweater with a cream oxford shirt beneath. His hair was professionally styled, short on the sides and longer on the top. Daisy had readied her driver’s license and held it out for him to see.
“What do you want?” he asked haughtily.
She decided honesty was the only way she’d capture any information. “A friend of mine in Willow Creek was killed and I’m investigating her background. This was the address she used on her income taxes for a year six years ago. Can you tell me if you knew Margaret Vaughn?”
He was already shaking his head before she finished. “I just bought this town house four years ago, so I have no idea who you’re talking about. I moved here from Connecticut for business reasons.”
“She also went by the name Luna Larkin.”
His lips twitched ironically. “A stage name?”
“Yes. She was an actress.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t recognize that name either.”
“Can you tell me who you bought this house from?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I bought it from a bank. I don’t know what the story was behind it. I didn’t care because I got it at a discount. I liked it on first sight and that was it.”
This trip might have turned into a wild goose chase, but she wasn’t finished trying to succeed. “Can you tell me if your neighbors are friendly?”
“You mean, will they give you any information? It’s possible. I don’t know them well, but my neighbor two houses down always says hello when he sees me. He owns a Scottish terrier, and I see him walking up and down the street quite a bit. You could try him.”
“From the real estate records, I found out that your name is Charles Martz. Is that correct?”
“You did do some investigation. I’ve kept my name and number off of most public records.”
“I have a daughter who’s computer savvy.”
Mr. Martz nodded as if he understood that. But he didn’t give Daisy any additional information. She thanked him and he closed the door. She heard it lock.
A few minutes later, she was walking along the sidewalk to two town houses down. She went up similar steps and rang another bell. This time, there was no intercom. A man, much older than Charles Martz, opened the door and smiled. His face was lined with wrinkles and a few age spots dotted his broad nose. Wispy gray hair grew above his ears, but the rest of his head was bald.
A dog barked from another room, then came running into the foyer. It was a cute little black Scottish terrier. Hopping out onto the stoop, it automatically sniffed up and down Daisy’s pant legs. She knew it probably smelled cats.
“Well, you’ve got Topknot’s seal of approval,” the man noted.
She noticed the dog’s topknot and smiled. “Is he safe for me to pet?”
“He loves to be petted. Go ahead.”
Daisy let the dog smell her hand that she’d ungloved, and then she scratched the fur around his ears. Afterward, she ran her hand down his back. He yipped at her and then jumped up and down around her legs.
“All right now, Topknot . . .” The man patted his leg. “Come on. Back inside. We’ll go for a walk later. Let me find out what the lady wants.” The man closed the door on Topknot.
Daisy went through her introduction, then asked his name. She mentioned that his neighbor recommended that she talk to him.
“Why, I’m surprised. Charles isn’t talkative on a good day.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Timothy Aberdeen. I gather you’re looking for information of some type.”
“I am.” She told him why.
“Oh, my goodness. I’ve lived here for fifteen years now. Let me think about this. Charles’s town house was in a bit of an upheaval the past five years. Six years ago, a man named Conrad Eldridge lived there. He’d lived there for quite some time and, if I remember correctly, a woman named Luna Larkin worked for him. In fact, she not only worked for him. She took care of him for about a year. You see, Conrad was an actor . . . very popular in the sixties. However, he tired of the LA lifestyle and left a hit series to move to New York. Once, he was well-known for his extravagant parties.”
“But his health declined?”
“Yes, it did. Miss Larkin had met him at the strip club where she was working.”
“As a stripper?” Daisy asked, starting to put all the pieces together . . . at least some of them.
“Yes. They connected on some level, as people often do. It wasn’t a romantic relationship from what I understand. After all, Conrad was so much older than she was. He helped her get bit parts so she could stop stripping.”
“You
