Dying to Sell by Maggie Sefton

Author:Maggie Sefton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: murder, mystery, amateur sleuth, colorado, real estate, women sleuths, mystery female sleuth
Publisher: Maggie Sefton

Chapter 13

As I drove through the entrance to Devonshire Estates, I was struck once again by the incongruous view. Ten miles down the interstate, east another three miles, out in the middle of what used to be nowhere. Like it or not, the small nowheres of Northern Colorado were becoming somewheres faster than we could say "development." Sprawl had come to Fort Collins, big time.

The subdivision spread out north to south, covering the former farmland with building sites as far as the eye could see. Wooden stakes bloomed where crops had once been. Working farmland still bordered the subdivision on both sides. Cows grazed beside the fence line, overlooking the empty tractors. I knew the modest-sized lots would bloom yet again with enormous estate homes, nestled cheek-by-jowl with each other.

Since it was Sunday, I expected the builder's sales agent on site to be fairly busy. Ackerman had said a couple of models were already up. Following the arrows around the newly-paved empty streets, I spied only one car at the model home office and it wasn't Ackerman's sporty red number. Then I took a closer look at the model. It was a huge walkout ranch. Ackerman said a two-story. Must be another model. I wheeled around and circled through the subdivision's maze, heading for the south end. Sure enough, there was an enormous two-story rising in lonely splendor. And a shiny red car was parked beside it.

I'd had my office set the showing and call me with the lock box code. I'd assumed the model was another of the developer's. Consequently, I was surprised to see an unfamiliar real estate sign stuck in the dirt of the soon-to-be front yard with just the company name and a Denver phone number. Great, I thought as I parked my car and got out. Probably some one man/woman shop with an answering machine. Henry Ackerman was already out of his sporty little car and headed my way, smile in place. I braced myself.

"Thanks for coming, Kate," he said in greeting.

"Sorry I'm a little late, Henry. I headed toward the other site at first." I glanced around for his wife. "Is Ruth out in the back?"

"No. Her plans changed at the last minute. Her mother's in a nursing home and suddenly took a turn for the worse. I'll have to tour the property for both of us, I guess." He flashed a bright smile.

"Okay," I said, trying not to show my disappointment. "Let's go in, then." And I led the way up the winding walkway leading to the expansive front porch.

Unfortunately, all my anxieties came along with me, dogging my heels like panting hounds. I had convinced myself Henry Ackerman was Suspect Number One, with Cheryl Krane right behind him. However, now that I'd learned Cheryl sent Stanley to retrieve an incriminating book she'd given Mark, I was toying with rearranging my Order of Suspects.

In any case, the last place I wanted to be was alone with either of them—especially in a deserted house, way out in the middle of nowhere.

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