Chapter 8
“Good afternoon. I’m Bayard Martel and this is my wife, Matilda,” Bay said, holding out his hand to the realtor when she joined them.
She shook it, introducing herself as Mrs. Johnson. Then she disarmed the security box by the gate in the high, serpentine brick wall surrounding Geoffrey O’Neill’s estate. After she opened the gate, they returned to their cars and drove up the long driveway, parking in front of a three-car garage.
Mrs. Johnson went into the usual spiel about what the house and property had to offer as she led them inside. Half an hour later they had toured the ground and second floors. The rooms were impressive in their size and décor—and empty of any furniture.
A quick trip up to the attic revealed it was equally barren of anything except a layer of dust, for
