“How do you know that?”
Pemberton smiled. “In many ways, in fact, in more ways than people around here care to admit, Charlottesville is a small town. Now I know for a fact that very recently Matt Riggs was up surveying Ms. Savage’s property line when he became engaged in a reckless chase with another car that almost got him killed.”
Conklin shook his head in confusion. “Who’s Matt Riggs?”
“A local contractor hired by Ms. Savage to install a security fence around her property.”
“So he was chasing another car? How does that tie in with Catherine Savage?”
“A friend of mine was heading to work that morning. He lives up in that same area and works in town. He was about to turn on to the main road heading into town when a charcoal gray BMW flew by. He said it must’ve been doing eighty. If he had pulled out a second sooner that BMW would’ve torn his car in half. He was so shaken, he couldn’t budge for a full minute. Good thing too, because while he’s sitting there trying to keep his breakfast down, Matt Riggs’s pickup comes barreling by and another car is locked on his bumper. They were obviously going at it.”
“Do you know who was in the BMW?”
“Now, I’ve never met her but I know people who have seen her. Catherine Savage is a tall, blond woman. Real good-looking. My friend only got a glimpse of the driver, but he said she was blond and pretty. And I saw a charcoal gray BMW parked up at Wicken’s Hunt when I went up to do a preclosing walk-through with Charlie.”
“So you think somebody was chasing her?”
“And I think Matt Riggs must’ve run smack into it. I know that his truck’s in the shop with a busted bumper. I also know that Sally Beecham—she’s the maid up at Wicken’s—saw Riggs walking off in a huff from the house later that same morning.”
Conklin stroked his chin. “Very interesting. Guess there’s no way to find out who was chasing her?”
“Yes there is. I mean I did. At least his location. You see, it gets even more interesting. As I said, Charlie invited me to breakfast. That’s when he told me about this man who had come by the house wanting money. Charlie wanted my help in finding out if the man was staying in the area. Of course, I agreed to do what I could. At that point I didn’t know about the car chase. I found that out later.”
“You said you were able to find the man? But how could you? Lots of places to hide around here, I would think.” Conklin asked this in a nonchalant manner.
Pemberton smiled triumphantly. “Not much escapes my notice, Harry. Like I said, I was born and raised here. Charlie gave me a description of the man and the car. I used my contacts and in less than twenty-four hours I had located him.”
“Probably holed up pretty far away, I’ll bet.”
Pemberton shook his head. “Not at all. He was right under their noses. A small cottage. It’s barely ten minutes from Wicken’s Hunt by car. But very isolated.”
“Help me out here. I don’t have my bearings here yet. Is it near Monticello?”
“Well, in the general vicinity, but the area I’m talking about is north of that, north of Interstate Sixty-four, in fact. The cottage isn’t too far from the Airslie Estate, off Highway Twenty-two, the Keswick Hunt area it’s called. The man had leased the cottage about a month ago.”
“Good gosh, did you get a name?”
“Tom Jones.” Pemberton smiled knowingly. “Obviously false.”
“Well, I guess they appreciated your help. So what happened?”
“I don’t know. My business keeps me hopping. I really haven’t talked to them about it any more.”
“Well, this Riggs fellow, I bet he’s sure sorry he got involved.”
“Well, he can take care of himself.”
“Maybe so, but getting banged around in a car in a high-speed chase? Most general contractors don’t do that.”
“Well, Riggs wasn’t always a G.C.”
“Really?” Conklin said, his features inscrutable. “You really do have the Peyton Place here. So what’s his story?”