Deadly Intentions (10 page)
Authors: Candice Poarch
14
An hour later Lisa knocked on Brian's door, puffing on a cigarette. She'd quit a couple months ago and hadn't had oneânot even one in the car. Her nerves were piqued and she needed something to calm herself. She'd stopped by the 7-Eleven and bought a couple of packs. After this business, she'd quit again.
The attempted robbery in the parking lot was twofold, she thought as she took a satisfying puff, enjoying the pleasing smoke before exhaling. Brian's grandfather was a collector. This meant that someone else thought the bowl was there, or another item worth stealingâeven with a parking lot full of people, many of whom could identify him. Why didn't the thief wait until she made it home? It would have been easy enough to steal it once she left her house. Obviously the thief thought Brian and she had retrieved the item when they returned to the house.
Worse. Someone was watching them. That wasn't quite correct. Someone was watching her.
Lisa shivered and glanced around. Why was the bowl so important? There were antiques in circulation that were much more pricey than the golden bowl. Was there some other purpose behind the theftâother than the bowl? If so what was it? And how could she find out?
Lisa sighed and ground out the cigarette. She wasn't good at this detective business at all.
She started to think Brian had left when he finally opened the door. His eyes were bloodshot. She woke him out of a sound sleep.
“You've been smoking,” he said.
Lisa crossed the threshold. “Nice observation, detective.” She held up a bag. “Supper.”
“Bad for your health.”
“What's this? You think you're my keeper or something?”
Brian frowned. “I thought you were home by now. What're you doing back here?”
He looked feverish and was limping more than he'd been earlier.
“I remembered your bag of clothes was in my car, then I stopped by a restaurant to pick up dinner for you. Good thing, too, since you look like you haven't eaten or taken your meds.” Lisa put the takeout on the table.
“I was resting. I'd planned to take them after I ordered a pizza later.”
“Anyway,” Lisa said, moving further into the room. “Someone broke into my car while I was in the restaurant and tried to steal your bag. Now what could he think was valuable enough to steal when people were coming and going in the parking lot?”
Brian looked alarmed. “You didn't try to stop him, did you?”
“No, an octogenarian did the job for me.”
Brian blew out a breath. “Why don't you tell me about it?”
Greg glanced at the photo of Lisa Claxton. He hated her with a passion. He'd nearly forgotten about her until the article of the Jamestown celebration appeared in the paper.
They'd attended college together for one year and her chin was always tipped in the air as if she'd owned the world. He bet she was still that smart-ass.
He'd fancied himself attracted to her once. She'd been popular. He hadn't been. Had wanted to bed her with a passion he hadn't experienced since. Not even with his fiancée, who'd left him. Had even broken down and asked Lisa out once. She'd turned him down flat as if he were a piece of garbage beneath her feet.
She was always spouting about her ancestry. How her grandmother could trace their roots back to almost four hundred years. That bowl was a symbol of her heritage and she loved it.
Greg knew his mother had been a whore and his father was no more than a john paying for a twentydollar trick. His ancestry wasn't worth researching.
Greg put the other eye in place on the dog. He'd like to stuff Lisa and keep her for all time. Then he'd have complete control over her. Greg tightened his lips in anger at his defeatist attitude. He wasn't the man he was at twenty. He could control her while she was alive. And that's what he wanted. Before all was said and done, Lisa would be his.
At first he'd thought to let Justin handle things until he had the bowl, then he'd deal with her.
But time was running out. Greg couldn't leave Justin alone to get the job done. Look how long it was taking. And his brother's birthday was just around the corner. Greg was going to give Justin one last chance. Nicholas's birthday was in two weeks.
He dialed Justin's number. He answered after the second ring.
“Any progress?” Greg asked. “Where are we?”
Greg heard a quick intake of breath before Justin responded with, “I'm still working on it.”
“You've been working on it for freaking ever. I'm coming down. This can't go on any longer. I couldn't get it for him last year on time. I'm not letting another year go by without that bowl.”
“Greg, you'll just get in the way. Trust me. I've got it under control.”
“Do you have the bowl in hand? No. You've got nothing under control. Now we're down to the wire. I can't take the chance of you not pulling this off again.”
“I wasn't working on this last year. If you'd called me in the beginning, I'd have it by now,” Justin tried to explain. “It took a while to set things up so it wouldn't look like a robbery. Now it's just where I want it.”
All Greg knew was Justin hadn't gotten the job done as quickly as he was supposed to.
“I've already made arrangements. I'll see you tomorrow. You can update me on what's going on when I get there.” He pressed the disconnect button. If you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself. How many times had Nicholas told him that?
He returned to his latest creation. He inserted the glass eye. He would prefer to get this done and out of the way before he left, but his brother was more important than the person who'd commissioned the piece. As soon as he retrieved the bowl, he should be able to complete this quickly.
Deana might be planning a big to-do for Nicholas's birthday, but she couldn't top that bowl. And no one deserved such a fine gift more than Nicholas.
Greg idolized his brother. Nicholas had always looked out for him to his own sacrifice. It was time Greg did something for him for a change. And get his revenge on the Claxtons in the meantime.
Justin hung up. He'd ditched the car in a busy parking lot where he'd left his car earlierâjust in case something went wrong. Shit. Now he was going to have to steal another car. It was all trouble. Stealing a car. Stealing a license plate with the same make and model. All of this took time. Since he'd never had to pull a job, Greg didn't understand that.
That's the reason he usually didn't work with amateurs. Professionals gave you a job to do and let you do it the way you saw fit.
And now that asshole was coming here, messing things up because he didn't know what the hell he was doing or what the job entailed.
One question was answered. He knew Knight didn't have the bowlâat least the bowl hadn't been in the bag. He'd have to check the motel room once they left there. And he'd have to find out where that woman lived. He suspected that she lived on the islandâthat she was a Claxton. Which meant she was searching for the bowl or had found it. He'd find out soon enoughâhopefully before Greg arrived.
“I have a question for you,” Lisa said to Brian. She'd finished explaining what had happened in the restaurant parking lot. “Your grandfather is obviously wealthy. You're a single man with some rank in the Navy. Why are you staying in this dump?”
“Before I answer you, I want you to promise to trust me.”
Lisa's eyes flashed at him. “I've trusted too many men in my lifetime. The only thing we have in common is your grandfather's house, and even then, I just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm not promising you anything.”
Brian leveled an intense gaze on her. “I'll give you my word that I'll be honest with you.”
“A twenty-four-hour acquaintance doesn't make us bosom buddies. I don't even know you.”
“Maybe not. But if we work on this together, then we are going to have to trust each other.”
Lisa contemplated that for a moment before she nodded. She'd reserve judgment, but she needed his help to find the bowl.
“While we waited for the police, I found a card on the floor near the kitchen door with the motel's address. I think it belonged to the murderer. Harriet really didn't have a reason to have the card. I think the person who murdered her is here or at least was here. I thought the murderer had the bowl, but if he had it, the man wouldn't have had any reason to rob you. He wasn't after the clothes.”
“If the murderer doesn't have the bowl, then your grandfather might not have it.”
“That's not necessarily true. Harriet could have put it in one of the closets.”
Lisa shook her head. “Any decent thief would have checked the closets.”
“Probably didn't have time. Harriet could have arrived before the murderer finished. And you came in before he or she could finish searching.”
“If it's not in your grandfather's house, I don't know where it might be.”
“What about the person my grandfather supposedly purchased the bowl from?” he said. “I'll give him a call. See what I can find out. I got my grandfather's address book while we were searching his house. The seller's name should be in there.”
Lisa nodded. “Find out who he purchased the bowl from. Either your grandfather's friend or the person he purchased the bowl from stole it from my aunt.”
“My grandfather wouldn't knowingly purchase on the black market,” Brian said.
“I don't understand why someone is trying to steal it from him now,” Lisa said. “This is getting complicated.”
Brian nodded.
“I'm also going to talk with the motel's night manager. He's retired Navy,” Brian said. “Hopefully I'll get some info out of him.”
“How do you know he was in the Navy?”
“I have my sources.”
Lisa shot him a piercing gaze. “Why don't you use some of that trust you preach so much about on me?”
“When I was at the desk, I asked questions. The owner's wife works during the day. Her brother works the night shift. They own the motel together.”
“You would think they'd try to fix it up.”
“They just bought it a couple months ago. They plan to start construction soon. It'll be late fall before they can seriously begin to work on it.”
“I hope we can solve this quickly. I can't work this thing day and night. I have a business to run.”
“I can do it.”
“You're hurt. You have to give yourself time to heal before you make yourself worse than you already are.”
Brian scowled. “You'd be surprised what a man can do with the right incentive. I know my limits.”
Okay. That was definitely a touchy subject,
Lisa thought.
Lisa thought.
15
It was late the next afternoon when Lisa got a phone call. Her grandmother had had a heart attack and they were taking her to a hospital on the mainland. Lisa went into panic mode. Her grandmother was the rock of the family. She was Lisa's rock. And the bowl she loved so much was still missing. But the bowl was a material thing. It was way down the list behind her grandmother's health.
“I have to get to the hospital,” Lisa told Brian.
“I'll take you.”
“You can't drive.”
“Then I'll go with you.”
Lisa remembered the vigil with her cousin Barbara a few months ago. “Look, it's going to be a long night. Maybe into the next day.”
“That's okay.”
Lisa couldn't waste time arguing. Worried about her grandmother, she headed to the door. She had the car started by the time Brian struggled in.
The drive from the motel to the hospital was the longest in Lisa's life. If her grandmother hadn't worked so hard on her birthday, she might have rested and been okay instead of fighting for her life. She could live a hundred years and it still wouldn't be long enough.
When they got there and parked, Brian told Lisa to go ahead because he was slowing her down, but she wouldn't leave him. Though she was impatient to get to her grandmother, she paced her steps with his. In the reception area several family members were already there. And through the long ordeal it wasn't just family. Friends were calling; a few even stopped by, but didn't stay because of the number of people already there.
Sure, SEAL team members who'd worked with Brian had visited him, and a few friends, along with brass from the base, but nothing like this, Brian reflected. Naomi Claxton was surrounded not with strangers and passing friends, but with love. With the warm reception she'd given him, a literal stranger, Brian could understand people loving Mrs. Claxton and wanting to be on hand when she was ill. Even he felt some tug in his heart for her.
He went to get cups of coffee and tea to pass around, then sat beside Lisa. She wrapped her cold hands around the cup. After she took a few sips, he held her hand and it felt right. He felt as if he belonged.
It seemed they sat there a lifetime before the doctor came out of Naomi's room to tell them they were going to give her an angioplasty the next day.
It was close to two
A.M.
before they leftâmuch too late to catch the last ferry. Brian and Lisa went back to the motel.
A.M.
before they leftâmuch too late to catch the last ferry. Brian and Lisa went back to the motel.
She really needed a stiff drink, something to relax her enough to rest. While she showered, Brian went to talk to the night auditor.
“Evening,” Brian said. The man behind the desk looked up from the computer screen. “How can I help you?” he asked.
“Couldn't sleep,” Brian said. “Just taking a walk.”
“I had a hard time sleeping, too, after I came home from a war zone. Takes a while to settle down to a normal life again. Unless you've been there, people don't understand.”
Brian nodded. “That's for sure.”
“Your lady seems to be sticking close, though.”
“Yeah, she is. Her grandmother's sick. So she's going through a few changes herself.” Brian didn't understand the little kick in his gut when the guy referred to Lisa as his “lady.”
“That's a bad deal.”
They talked military things all service guys yakked about. “This is a nice place you have here,” Brian said. He could still smell the new paint.
“My sister's husband died a few years ago. When I retired from the Navy, we decided to open up this small motel.” He glanced around. “I know it doesn't look like much right now, but it's got good bones. With my sister's decorating eye and my construction skills, we hope to make it into a great place for family vacations that won't break the bank.”
“Shouldn't have a problem keeping the place booked for the summer,” Brian agreed. “Actually I had another reason for coming here. My grandfather's house was broken into a couple days ago. I found a business card of your motel there. One of the neighbors said they thought a man about five-eleven seemed to be casing the house. He'd camped out on the beach for a couple weeks.”
“I don't know about that. But a man and a woman have rented a room for a couple of weeks. They come and go a lot. He doesn't always spend the night. She hasn't been here in a few days.”
“They still have a room?” Brian asked.
He nodded, leafed through a bucket and studied a card. “Room's paid up through the end of the week.”
“Could you tell me which room he's in?”
“You know that's against the rules.” The guy sighed hard. “Okay, his room is near yours. That's the best I can do.”
“Thanks, man.” Brian turned to leave.
“Anything for a soldier. Look to your right. Couple doors.”
Outside, Brian glanced at the dark room. The motel still used keys. Provided the room was empty, getting in was a piece of cake.
In his room, Lisa was dressed in his T-shirt.
“Hope you don't mind,” she said.
“Use anything you want.” Damn, she looked good in his shirt with her legs crossed, tweaking his imagination big time. She was decentâbarely. Fresh from Afghanistan, he didn't need this.
She'd also found his bottle of rum and was slinging back rum and Coke.
Brian nodded toward the bottle. “Maybe you should take it easy on that.”
“I'm depressed.”
“I understand. But there're other ways to deal with depression.”
“No, you don't. You can't possibly understand what I'm going through,” she said.
He eased the bottle out of her hand and set it on the table. “I've got to go out for a little while. Why don't you lie down and sleep a bit?”
“Okay.”
Suspicious, Brian glanced at her. Lisa never gave in easily. Maybe she was too drunk to fight, but she hadn't drank that much.
Brian turned off all the lights except the desk lamp, and found the tools he needed in his bag, including a pair of gloves. He grabbed one of Lisa's cigarettes and lit it before he went outside. He pretended to smoke it while he surveyed his surroundings. When he'd stood there long enough, he eased to the door. He was in the room in less than a minute.
Closing the door quietly behind him, he let his eyes adjust to the tiny light coming in around the curtains. A king bed occupied the center of one wall. Across from it was a scarred dresser with a television. The bed was made up. Brian peered in the closet and bathroom to make sure he was alone.
With a penlight, he began to go through the duffel bag on the luggage cart. A few clothes were scattered about, but nothing like a plane ticket or identification, not even on his luggage. Pants were thrown across the chair as if the occupant wanted someone to believe he stayed there. Dirty clothes were piled in a corner of the bathroom.
Brian went through the pants pockets one by one. In the last pair of trousers, he unearthed a piece of paper with a woman's name on it. Tootsie. Room 159. He was unable to find anything else in the room. He returned to the office.
“Hey, did you have anyone registered in room 159 named Tootsie?” he asked.
“That room hasn't been rented in a week. We're going to start redoing that section Monday. Give me a sec.” He disappeared into a back room. In a couple minutes, he was back.
“I remember now. That woman lit out of here like her coattail was on fire the day you checked in. She looked around all nervous-like, as if she was afraid.”
“Can you give me a name?”
“Her name was Magdelena Young.”
“Where's she from?”
“She signed in with the same address the guy used. It says they're from Baltimore, but that doesn't mean it's true. That's all I can tell you.”
Brian nodded. If she was running from something, she probably wouldn't go back home.
He made his way to his room and showered. He usually wore briefs to bed but he added a white T-shirt this time and climbed beneath the covers on his side.
The mattress shifted when Lisa moved close to him. He nearly knocked her on her backside when her arms clasped around him.
“Hmmm. You smell good,” she mumbled in his neck, then brushed a sweet kiss over the area where she'd breathed.
Blood shot straight to his groin. “Ah, Lisa?” He tried scooting away, but he was already on the edge.
“Hmmm.” She rubbed her hot, lush body against his. She was braless. Have mercy. He wasn't made of stone.
“Lisa, you have to let me go.”
“I want to be with you.”
Brian stifled a groan. “Baby, not tonight. I . . . I've got a headache.” Yeah right. He had an ache all right, but in another part of his body.
“I'll make it all better.”
Brian groaned out loud. “Did you drink more while I was gone?”
“Not even a sip.”
As much as he wanted to peel his shirt from her body and enjoy every delectable inch of her, he couldn't. She'd had too much to drink. And she was sick with worry about her grandmother. This wasn't the time to make love for the first time.
“Go to sleep, baby.”
Her hand moved from his chest down to his erection. “I'm not a baby.”
Didn't he know it. “We'll do this when you're feeling better.”
“I'm feeling good now.”
The situation was getting worse by the second. He could barely talk while she moved her hand over his body. “Lisa, go to sleep. I'm tired and hurting.”
“I've got your little happy pills. You'll be feeling better in no time.”
“You're talking crazy.”
“I need you tonight, Brian.” Her voice was serious.
Brian turned over. He grabbed her hair in his hands and pulled her head back so she could look him in the eyes. “Lisa, I don't want you to accuse me of taking advantage of you when you're down. I don't want you to hate me in the morning.”
“I won't hate you. I want you. Don't you want me?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then what's stopping you?”
“This situation.”
“It takes a lot more than a couple of drinks to make me drunk. I'm perfectly in control.”
“Maybe I'm the one out of control.”
“Oh, you're always in control. I have no doubt of that,” Lisa said, her eyes half closed. “That's why we're completely wrong for each other. You're too intense. I'm more relaxed. And according to you, not serious enough.”
Brian didn't like her assertion. “If you feel that way, why do you want to go to bed with me?”
“Oh, I don't just want to go to bed with you.” She ran a finger along his tense jaw. “I might not like you, but I love your body. I want to make love with you all night long.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
“Are you really in pain?” Lisa asked, concerned.
“No.”
“Any diseases?”
“Just had a complete checkup. Not a one. How about you?”
“It's been a long time. And no. I'm clean.”
“So what are you waiting for?” Even this discussion couldn't spoil the mood.
Lisa used her hands to push him on his back. She climbed over him and lowered her lips to his. The kiss was hot and intense. She stroked his tongue with hers, outlining his mouth.
He did not lie idle. He pulled her T-shirt over her head, breaking the connection for a second, but only a second. He reached up and resumed the kiss, then kissed her face and neck. Rubbed his hands over her back, her backside and hips.
“Lord, woman. You're killing me,” he whispered as he took her lips again and dragged her panties down her legs.
She ran her hands and lips over his chest, trailed her fingertips along his arms, sides, down to his thighs. She whispered sweet words to him, then brushed his ear with a kiss.
He was ready to explode when her hand clamped over his erection. One touch and he was nearly ready to come. It had been too damn long.
“Wait a minute, babe.” He brushed her hand away. He couldn't embarrass himself their first time together.
He flipped her over. “Your turn.”
“Don't hurt yourself now.”
“Those are fighting words.” She didn't have a clue of half of what he was capable of, he thought as he took control of the situation.
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