The judge ruled in his favor and shortly thereafter the brother sold his half of the mountain to a consortium of investors led by Victor Hamilton. The ink was hardly dry on the agreement before the trucks and tractors rolled in and began knocking down trees and building that revolting golf course resort.”
“So your offer was too early.”
“And woefully underfunded. Our small nonprofit never would have paid what Hamilton’s people did. His group had some serious backers. Shame, too. He created such a mess ofthe streams that the North Carolina Department of Environment and Natural Resources threatened to shut him down.”
“What about the manor and the land around it? Did this fellow Hamilton buy that too?”
“Actually, no. When the elder Randolph brother became ill last summer, he put his half of the mountain up for sale. There was a nasty bidding war between Hamilton’s people and a man from up north, Barnabas Forester.”
Now my eyebrows shot up. I could almost feel myself leaning in, listening harder.
“Of course by then I had long since lost interest. The whole matter was, as they say, too rich for my blood.”
“So Forester bought the manor?”
“Indeed he did. It tickled me to no end to see Hamilton bested at his own game.”
“Sounds like Forester had money?”
“It would seem. And now he is dead, which I suppose is the point of all your questions.”
“Did you ever meet him?”
“Forester? He came in once asking questions and inquiring about certain books, much as you are doing right now.”
“What types of books?”
“Old burial grounds. Historic churches. I remember him behaving strangely.”
“Strange in what way?”
“He carried a leather satchel and refused to put it down. Kept it in his hand at all times.”
“Do you know if he did much work on the manor after he bought it? Or if anyone else was living with Forester?”
“To my knowledge, no. Rumor has it Forester and his wife purchased the property and moved into the guesthouse. Maybe they planned to fix up the mansion; I can’t say for sure. As I mentioned, I only saw him a few times. But unless I’m badly mistaken, no one has lived in the manor since before the elder Randolph passed away.”
I could tell he was getting antsy by the way he kept shifting his weight and glancing around the store, so I hurried to get in my last few questions. “And Mrs. Forester? Do you know much about her?”
“Lucy? Yes, of course.” He pointed out the front window. “Down that street and to your left you will find her gallery. She is quite famous, you know. Her works are on display in New York and Paris. And all over town, of course. She has her art studio behind her home. For a while she and Forester tried to turn the guesthouse into a bed-and-breakfast. I’ve never met two people more ill suited to be in the hospitality business.”
Feigning surprise I asked, “So the B&B is closed?”
“I think Lucy knew that venture was doomed from the start. That’s why she returned to the little house she had been renting in town. As I said, Mr. Forester was somewhat eccentric. I can imagine he might have been difficult to work with.”
“You mean ‘live with,’ ” I said, correcting him.
“That too. I was thinking about the couple’s strained business relationship.”
Nodding toward the clippings next to the register, I said, “Couldn’t help but notice that you’re something of an authority on vampires. Does the store have a website?”
“Of course. Any business that does not have a presence on the Web will not be in business for long. We also have a smartphone app and are active in social media. Now then, is there anything I can show you in the way of reading material?”
His comment was an obvious dig at my persistent questioning, but if I was going to get to the truth, it couldn’t be helped.
“One more question. Did you kill Forester?”
“Don’t be absurd — of course not. I was out of town the night it
“So your offer was too early.”
“And woefully underfunded. Our small nonprofit never would have paid what Hamilton’s people did. His group had some serious backers. Shame, too. He created such a mess ofthe streams that the North Carolina Department of Environment and Natural Resources threatened to shut him down.”
“What about the manor and the land around it? Did this fellow Hamilton buy that too?”
“Actually, no. When the elder Randolph brother became ill last summer, he put his half of the mountain up for sale. There was a nasty bidding war between Hamilton’s people and a man from up north, Barnabas Forester.”
Now my eyebrows shot up. I could almost feel myself leaning in, listening harder.
“Of course by then I had long since lost interest. The whole matter was, as they say, too rich for my blood.”
“So Forester bought the manor?”
“Indeed he did. It tickled me to no end to see Hamilton bested at his own game.”
“Sounds like Forester had money?”
“It would seem. And now he is dead, which I suppose is the point of all your questions.”
“Did you ever meet him?”
“Forester? He came in once asking questions and inquiring about certain books, much as you are doing right now.”
“What types of books?”
“Old burial grounds. Historic churches. I remember him behaving strangely.”
“Strange in what way?”
“He carried a leather satchel and refused to put it down. Kept it in his hand at all times.”
“Do you know if he did much work on the manor after he bought it? Or if anyone else was living with Forester?”
“To my knowledge, no. Rumor has it Forester and his wife purchased the property and moved into the guesthouse. Maybe they planned to fix up the mansion; I can’t say for sure. As I mentioned, I only saw him a few times. But unless I’m badly mistaken, no one has lived in the manor since before the elder Randolph passed away.”
I could tell he was getting antsy by the way he kept shifting his weight and glancing around the store, so I hurried to get in my last few questions. “And Mrs. Forester? Do you know much about her?”
“Lucy? Yes, of course.” He pointed out the front window. “Down that street and to your left you will find her gallery. She is quite famous, you know. Her works are on display in New York and Paris. And all over town, of course. She has her art studio behind her home. For a while she and Forester tried to turn the guesthouse into a bed-and-breakfast. I’ve never met two people more ill suited to be in the hospitality business.”
Feigning surprise I asked, “So the B&B is closed?”
“I think Lucy knew that venture was doomed from the start. That’s why she returned to the little house she had been renting in town. As I said, Mr. Forester was somewhat eccentric. I can imagine he might have been difficult to work with.”
“You mean ‘live with,’ ” I said, correcting him.
“That too. I was thinking about the couple’s strained business relationship.”
Nodding toward the clippings next to the register, I said, “Couldn’t help but notice that you’re something of an authority on vampires. Does the store have a website?”
“Of course. Any business that does not have a presence on the Web will not be in business for long. We also have a smartphone app and are active in social media. Now then, is there anything I can show you in the way of reading material?”
His comment was an obvious dig at my persistent questioning, but if I was going to get to the truth, it couldn’t be helped.
“One more question. Did you kill Forester?”
“Don’t be absurd — of course not. I was out of town the night it
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