Vineyard Stalker by Philip R. Craig Read Free Book Online Page A

diplomas and certifications were hung on the wall along with photos of her and happy-looking people I took to be satisfied customers, standing in front of a variety of buildings, both domestic and commercial. A matching but unoccupied desk sat beside hers, and similar diplomas and certificates on the walls proclaimed Jordan Cohen to be an equally qualified Realtor.
    There were even pictures of small places, to prove, I guessed, that even the little people could depend on Carole to do well by them. Not that really little people could thrive on the increasingly pricey Vineyard, where a house for less than six big figures was getting very hard to find.
    It was no wonder that people were after Roland Nunes’s land, and although terrorism was still not a usual ploy to encourage a sale, perhaps it would become more popular. I thought of my own acres, purchased long ago by my father when Ocean Heights would have been considered to be on the wrong side of the tracks if Edgartown had had tracks, and land there was cheap. Lately, though, there was no cheap land on the island and more than one Realtor had come inquiring about the possibility of me selling some of mine for very nice money. So far, I’d always said no, but my taxes were getting so high that I didn’t know how much longer I could hold out. Adam and Eve had been forced to give up Eden, so it could happen to anyone.
    When Carole finally hung up her phone, I gave her the camera and binoculars.
    â€œThank you,” she said. “You just missed Jordan. He’s out with a customer. Shut the door, will you? Did you get some pictures already? That was fast.”
    â€œI’m not sure they’ll be much use,” I said, returning to my chair. “The guy had blackened his face, so he might be hard to identify.”
    â€œBut you saw him. You caught him in the act. Good. Did you scare him off?”
    â€œYes, I scared him off. I yelled and he ran.”
    â€œGood. Maybe he won’t be back. I’ll have this film developed right away.” She smiled. “Thanks. The job didn’t take as long as I thought it would. I’ll give you a check.” She found her purse and pulled out a checkbook.
    â€œI wouldn’t be too sure he won’t be back,” I said.
    She’d been reaching for a pen, but now her hand stopped. “Why do you say that?”
    She was paying me for my work, so I told her everything that happened, finishing with my arrangement with John Skye.
    She stared at me. “You were shot? You have to see a doctor! My God, I didn’t imagine that you’d be in danger!”
    â€œIt wasn’t your fault, and it was only a stun gun. I’m fine. The point is that those two guys, whoever they are, are not pussy cats. I think that if their boss decides to keep pushing this thing and pays them enough, they’ll be back. I think it’s time for you to take this to the cops.”
    She paid no attention to that suggestion. “They wouldn’t dare do anything else, would they? Now that they’ve been seen.”
    â€œSome people will take a lot of chances if the money’s right.”
    â€œBut one of them has been photographed!”
    â€œHe doesn’t know that.”
    â€œBut they must know someone might be waiting for them if they go back.”
    â€œThey don’t have to go back,” I said. “Your brother goes to work every morning. They just have to wait for the right moment and they can catch him away from home. He rides that moped wherever he goes, and a man on a moped hasn’t got much protection.”
    â€œYou don’t think they’d really hurt him, do you?”
    â€œSomeone apparently wants his land pretty badly, if your theory is right. If something happened to your brother…”
    â€œSomething fatal, you mean!” she interrupted.
    â€œYes. If that happened, your cousin would own the property.”
    She sat back, frowning first