Рита Браун - Tail Gait

“Sure. The old Garth estate. Huge.” With his bandaged hand, Marshall pointed to the second map.

“If you compare this to the first one from 1774, you can see how Garth expanded his holdings. Continental Estates is on a large portion of Garth’s land.” She swept her arm outward.

“A very good businessman, Ewing Garth. Ginger and I talked about him a lot. He was so shrewd. He picked up properties owned by Loyalists when the tide turned in the war. They were glad of the money.”

“What if they hadn’t sold?” Harry queried.

“The colony, soon to be the state, would have taken possession. Garth beat them to it, and so did other men who could tolerate risk. After Yorktown, it wasn’t as big a risk, obviously, but still the terms of disengagement, if you will, drug on for two years.”

Knowing little history, Snoop said nothing but observed. He could read a map well enough.

“I bet Ginger loved going over all this.” Harry smiled. “Researching new things.”

“He’d light up like a Christmas tree. Now, I enjoy it, but I also enjoy the historic tax credits, so my research, which often was his research, borrowed, has to be impeccable.”

Harry put her finger on the WEST name, then moved it to SCHUYLER. “A West was the architect for St. Luke’s. Herb said he married one of Garth’s daughters.”

“Ginger loved that story. Charles West escaped from the prison camp in York, Pennsylvania. He’d been confined to The Barracks first. Anyway, he made his way back here, offered his services to Garth, who somehow or other was able to keep him from being sent back to The Barracks.”

“Wasn’t the war over? Really?”

“That was part of it. At least that’s what Ginger thought. They had enough mouths to feed, and Garth, a very important man, vouched for West. West created new barns for him, outbuildings, an addition to his house, and he also fell in love with Garth’s younger daughter. Curiously enough, the captain who captured him had fallen in love with the older daughter. He fought so bravely at Yorktown that he was upped to a major, brevet major. He and West got along famously. One of history’s oddities.”

“I hope you put this on a plaque somewhere in Continental Estates.”

“I promised Ginger I would. It’s such a good story. The older Garth daughter, Catherine, took over all her father’s businesses when he died. Both she and Major Schuyler ran them, but she was the brains behind it.”

“Love is always a good story.”

“She also bred good horses. Her favorite slave, Jeddie Rice, worked with her on this. Seems he, too, had a real gift. Well, I’ve nattered on, but you can see that Continental Estates has a rich history and hopefully a wonderful future. I’m going to re-create the stables, riding trails. I’ll try to duplicate those structures for which I have drawings or photographs, as many remained standing once photography was invented.”

“That will be fabulous.” Harry thought it sounded like a fitting tribute to the early owners.

“That it will, but historical fidelity distinguishes my developments from all the others. Now, don’t get me wrong, there are some very good builders out there, but they don’t have a theme.”

“I guess you could say that Ginger made your career,” Harry replied.

“He did. Otherwise, I would have been just another high-end construction firm, development firm, after college.” He looked at Snoop. “Sure you don’t want a job?”

“Not right now.” Snoop tightly smiled. “When I’m free, maybe. I remember that I liked working out here.” What Snoop didn’t say was that whatever is out here may have killed Frank Cresey.

Harry folded up the maps. “I like coming to look at the milestone.”

“You come on in here anytime you want. I’d be happy to sell you a house, but I know you’ll never leave the farm. Tell you what, if I had inherited that farm I wouldn’t leave it either.”

Marshall bid them goodbye. Harry, Snoop, the two cats and dog crowded back into the truck. She drove to Blue Mountain Brewery on Route 151 to take Snoop to lunch, first dropping off Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, and Tucker, not at all pleased that they wouldn’t be having lunch.

“After all we do for her,” Pewter groused.

Sitting outside, the Blue Ridge Mountains were a stunning backdrop behind a greenhouse called AM Fog. The rolling hills were greening up to the mountains. Harry devoured a hamburger. Snoop did also, and although this was a brewery, he didn’t seem tempted by beer. He drank an iced tea, as did Harry. She found she much enjoyed his company.

“Being a cabinetmaker, you must have a feel for the properties of each different kind of wood.”

He nodded, swallowing. “And the beauty. Some wood sings in your hands.”

“What a wonderful thought. Okay, maple.”

“Hard, lasts.”

“Heart pine.”

“Not buggy like some wood. It sort of glows. Soft, but people have loved it since way back when. I do, too.”

Harry, as always, was curious about everything. “What about the imported woods like mahogany, zebrawood, stuff like that?”

Snoop shrugged. “I’ll work with anything, but we have so much good wood here, why spend the money on that stuff?”

“You have a point there.” She wiped her fingers on the napkin. “My farmhouse and barns, outbuildings, everything, are built from trees, stones taken from the land. I think when the house was built they struggled to pay for glass, but they were frugal and obviously good builders. The house is still standing and it was built in 1834.”

“They knew what they were doing, the old people.”

“What do you think about the houses at Continental Estates?”

He thought about this. “Big. He’s not cutting corners. I don’t think the landscaper is either, but I know less about that even though I’ve done what they asked when I would get day jobs out there.”

“Marshall asked you back.”

He folded his arms over his chest. “Harry, I’m not going back there until Frank’s killer is found.”

“I can understand that. This does seem to be about that development. Deputy Cooper, my friend Susan Tucker, and myself went down to the county offices and traced back chain of title. Legal.”

His eyes opened wider. “That’s what Frank meant by chains !”

“We think so, but we can’t find anything.”

“Ma’am, I trust Frank. I don’t know squat about this sort of thing, but I do know this: When there’s a lot of money on the line, life is cheap.”

“You mean like the tax credits, the historic tax credits.”

“I don’t know about that either. Today was the first time I ever heard of that. Sounds like a good idea, and I bet Frank knew something about it. What does it mean, these credits?”

“Well, in North Carolina, for example, they used to have a program, maybe they still do, where if you bought a dilapidated historic house and revitalized it according to historical records, you received tax credits, so ultimately you saved a bundle of money. Many states have variations of that, Virginia being one. But if you can prove the background of a place, you keep much of it intact or preserve some of it, the federal and state government will again give credit and also money, real money. Marshall gets millions in tax credits.”

He whistled. “Millions. So these murdered men, the history professor and Frank, might have known something to ruin that?”

“We’ve checked everything and everything is aboveboard and legal, the property transfers, all the historical research done on Continental Estates, all properly done. And there’s also the fact that Marshall and Paul studied with Ginger and loved him. It seems unlikely that either one, and I expect Paul has benefited as well as the paving contractor, would kill Ginger.”