Deadly Intentions (18 page)

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Authors: Candice Poarch

BOOK: Deadly Intentions
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29
Lisa picked Jackie up at her parents' house. Jackie was smiling when she climbed into the car.
“Girl, I'm so glad you changed your mind. I've been wanting to go back. I've already called Magdelena. She'll see us.”
Lisa nodded.
“I spent the money I was going to use for my reading. You're paying, aren't you? I paid the last time.”
“Sure.”
“'Cause I'm flat broke, girl.”
“Welcome to the club,” Lisa muttered under her breath. She steered the car toward the ferry.
“You've got a business now. You should be rolling in dough.”
“Let me give you a news flash. I'm not,” Lisa said. “It takes money to start and build a business. I live on a shoestring.”
They were the first in line at the ferry. A lot of cars were coming in but few left. Mostly tourists for the day. The line leaving would be long tonight.
Jackie spewed meaningless chatter across to the mainland. Lisa had turned on the music and let it soothe her. After they crossed the water, she drove to a nice condo complex.
“Boy, she must make a mint to be able to live here,” Jackie said.
“It is an expensive complex to live in. I wonder if they'd let me leave some brochures in the lobby,” she said.
“That's all you think about, that business of yours. No wonder you're no fun anymore.”
“I have to pay bills. I need as many clients as I can get.”
When they announced themselves, the security at the lobby let them go up. Magdelena lived on the twelfth floor on the side facing the ocean.
It was a moment before she answered their knock. As soon as Magdelena opened the door, Lisa could tell she'd been crying. It showed even through the extra makeup she used to cover the signs.
“Did we come at a bad time?” Lisa asked. “We can make an appointment for another time.”
“No. No. Just allergies.”
Lisa was dubious. To her the redness seemed to come from real tears.
“Come on in, ladies.”
The condo was nicely decorated but any hint of Magdelena's florid character was missing. Unlike Lisa's house, with its pictures and personal things, Magdelena's place looked as if it were a model home.
She led them to a sizable living room. “Have a seat, ladies. Do each of you want readings?” she asked.
“For sure. Can you believe Lisa actually called me about seeing you?” Jackie asked. “I nearly fainted.”
Did Magdelena look frightened? The image was so quick, if Lisa hadn't been watching her closely she would have missed it.
Magdelena nodded. “I'm glad you came,” she said. “I'll take you one at a time. Lisa?” she asked.
Lisa followed her as she led her to a small bedroom. There was a round table covered with a blue tablecloth near a window. The window was covered with white blinds left open to let the light shine in.
Lisa thought psychics read in dark rooms. At least that's the setting she usually saw on TV.
“What can I do for you?” Magdelena asked as she opened her hand for Lisa to place hers inside.
“My family owns a golden bowl that's missing. Can you tell me where it is? Or how I might find it?”
Magdelena's hand shook slightly. She closed her eyes. “Describe this bowl, please.”
Lisa described it in great detail. She'd seen it enough times to picture it in her mind's eye from memory.
“Why do you want this bowl?”
“It's a family heirloom. It's important to my grandmother. It's been in the family for nearly four hundred years.”
Magdelena was quiet for several moments. Lisa thought she wasn't going to say anything. She didn't really believe in this nonsense, but she should get some information for her money, shouldn't she?
“Beware of one who is close to you,” Magdelena finally said.
“Who are you talking about?” Lisa asked.
Magdelena squeezed her hand. More than uneasy, Lisa waited for her to continue. Was she referring to Brian? “Do you mean someone I've met recently?”
“No. One who you've known for many years.”
“Can you describe this person?”
Magdelena shook her head. “The bowl will be returned to you.”
“Where is it? When will I get it?”
“It will find its way to you.”
“But . . .”
“You must be patient.” She released Lisa's hand. Her eyes were damp with tears, but none spilled on her cheeks. She must have used up considerable energy.
“Are you okay?” Lisa asked.
Magdelena nodded. “I don't see anything else. Is that all you wanted to discuss?”
“No.” Lisa hesitated. “I've met this man. . . . On my last visit with you, you mentioned I'd meet a wonderful man. I didn't believe you then, but I have met someone. And he seems—nice. He . . .” Lisa laughed and her chuckle sounded hollow to her own ears.
“Go on,” Magdelena urged.
“I've had so many bad experiences that I don't know if I can believe in love anymore. What am I talking about? I don't even know if he loves me. If it's just all one-sided, if it's just me.”
“What has he said about your relationship?”
“Not much. I set the parameters in the beginning. I let him know that I wasn't up for a longterm relationship. That it was good exclusive sex.”
“And now you want more.”
Lisa nodded.
“Maybe you should be honest about your feelings. He might want a different kind of relationship with you than the one you dictated, but feels if he tried to push it in that direction, you'd reject him.”
“It wouldn't be fair to put the burden of my feelings on him, though.”
“That's what relationships are about.”
“But . . .”
“If he leaves you after you reveal your true feelings, he isn't the one for you. And wouldn't it be better to find out now than later?”
“But . . .”
Magdelena touched her hand. “You have to let yourself be vulnerable enough to get to the heart of what is to be between the two of you,” she insisted. “If you can't do that, then you're doomed.”
Lisa bit her bottom lip. “Is Brian the man you were speaking of at the mall?”
“Only you can determine that.”
Lisa nodded and paid her for both Jackie's and her session. She and Magdelena went back into the living room, where Jackie waited impatiently.
“I'm ready for my reading,” Jackie said, and hastily strolled out of the room, leading the way as if she'd been there before.
Lisa stood by the window watching the traffic, puzzled and a little unnerved by Magdelena's reading. Maybe she was a true psychic. Maybe she was more deeply attuned than most people. Lisa's grandmother read people well. Some people had that gift.
Lisa watched boats bob in the water. It was a nice view, looking down on the surroundings. It was so much busier than the view from her backyard.
Jackie stomped out a few minutes later, much sooner than Lisa expected, with an angry glare on her face.
Magdelena came out more slowly behind her.
“Jackie mentioned you have a cleaning business,” Magdelena said.
“Yes, I do.” It was an automatic gesture for Lisa to pull out a business card and brochure when someone asked about her business.
Magdelena glanced at the card. “One of my neighbors is looking for a good cleaning service. I'll give her your card and brochure. And I might need your services, too,” she said. “Can I reach you anytime at this number or will I get an answering service?”
“Most of the time you'll reach me,” Lisa told her. “Feel free to call anytime.” Lisa hesitated. “I was wondering if there was a place here in the complex I could leave a few brochures.”
“Certainly. Why don't you give me a few and I'll put them out.”
Lisa only had ten in her bag but she gave Magdelena all of them. She had more cards, though, and handed her twenty of them.
“Thanks so much. I'm really trying to increase business.”
Magdelena nodded, and Jackie and Lisa left.
“This was a waste of time,” Jackie said. “I could have stayed at home for all the help she was. No wonder you don't believe in psychics. How did your reading go?”
Lisa shrugged. “Okay. Why was yours so upsetting?”
“She had the nerve to tell me to stop relying on the lottery and get a good job. The nerve of her. I'm never coming here again. And I'm not recommending her to friends, either. With that kind of attitude, her business isn't going to grow, that's for sure.”
Every time Lisa was with Magdelena, her regard for the woman increased, she reflected. “Maybe you should listen to her. It couldn't hurt.” Lisa didn't want to be preachy, so she left it at that.
After she dropped Jackie off back at the island, Lisa went to Barbara Porterfield's house. Barbara used to be a hairdresser, the best the island ever had, but she stopped working in November.
“I really appreciate you giving me this perm,” Lisa said. “I was just about to give myself one.”
“I don't mind,” Barbara said.
“Don't you miss working at the beauty parlor?”
“Not at all. I have enough to keep me busy.” Barbara's stint as hairdresser was a ruse to find the people who killed her grandmother.
“Not to mention that amazing husband of yours. I bet he keeps you busy. You enjoy married life?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Are you blushing, Barbara?” Lisa noticed the roses on the table. “You all have been married five months and he's still sending you roses? That's so nice.”
“He's sweet.”
Longing filled Lisa. “God, how I wish I could find someone like that.”
“What about Brian? He's been tagging close.” She nudged Lisa in the side.
Sudden fear and uncertainty filled Lisa. “We'll see. But I don't think it's going to last.”
“Why not?”
“It never lasts,” Lisa said. “Nothing good, anyway.”
Barbara patted her hand. “I thought that, too, before I met Harper. And look what happened? I have a wonderful man. Not perfect, mind you. I'm not perfect either, but we are perfect for each other.”
“Harper needed a strong woman like you who can stand up to him. The average woman would wilt.”
Barbara laughed. “I was never the delicate flower.”
“Me neither.”
“Good thing, too, because a SEAL needs a strong woman to hold things together while he's away. And to keep him in line when you're with him.”
Lisa paused, thinking of her session with Magdelena.
“What's bothering you, Lisa?”
“How did you know Harper was the right one? I've screwed up so much, I don't trust my judgment in men anymore. How can you tell the difference?”
“Harper was different. He was concerned about me. And I loved him. He made me feel special. Does Brian make you feel special?”
Lisa nodded. “Yeah. I've never felt like this before.”
“There are so many good qualities about Harper. But the main thing is when it's right you feel it deep down, even though you fear it, too.”
Lisa never saw Harper as the Don Juan type. He just seemed capable and strong. Honorable. But she saw those same qualities in Brian. He was capable and strong and honorable. More importantly, he cared about her.
Maybe after the Founder's Day activities tomorrow, she'd talk to him.
30
Looking like the picture of the friendly geriatric, Nicholas parked his car on the grounds where the Founder's Day activities were to be held and observed. Venders were erecting booths. Stages were being built. Carnival equipment was put in place. In general people were friendly. It was not like D.C., where everyone was suspicious.
He couldn't help the erratic beat of his heart. He pictured the place in chaos, destroyed by the havoc he would bring.
He'd driven all over the island that morning. Stopped at the Greasy Spoon and talked with the locals. Walked along the beach. He got a good feel for where he would stand guard. The best places to take out the offenders.
During the fireworks everyone would be relaxed and weary. The festivities would have nearly wound down. The police would have relaxed their guard.
And he could pick them off—one by one.
Later that afternoon, Nicholas left the island and checked into the hotel. He changed his clothing back into Nicholas Doyle. All his personas were various characters, he thought as he drove back to Williamsburg. Except Nicholas Doyle. He might have come from nothing, but he did proud by the family name, much more so than his slut of a mother. And so had Greg. What young person didn't get confused about certain things a time or two?
When he got home, Deana, looking concerned, ran outside to greet him.
“Darling, I'm so glad you're back. How are you?”
He smiled down on her, gave her a little squeeze and kissed her on her forehead. “I'm well.”
She looked the socialite—very respectable in expensive tan slacks and green blouse. “Were you able to settle things?”
“Yes.”
“I'll certainly help you with the arrangements. I thought we'd have a small—”
“No,” he stated firmly, cutting her off. “His funeral will be held in church. We'll make the announcement in the papers.”
She appeared concerned. “I'm sure . . . Under the circumstances . . . No one would blame you. You did your best by him.”
“We have nothing to hide. Greg was my brother. Doyles don't hide,” he said. “Of course, I'll make all the arrangements.”
“Of course,” she said with a weak smile. “I only wanted to help.”
She wanted some small service held in the funeral parlor chapel, he was sure, with only family in attendance.
“Now, I'm famished,” he said, to deflect further discussion. He often indulged Deana, but not with something this important. His word was final. “Can you feed your starving husband?”
“Of course,” she said. She was not happy. He could see it in the lines of her face. She would be even less happy when she discovered the grand display he would have in Greg's honor.
Greg's funeral was the saddest day of Nicholas's life as much as his birth was the happiest.
The church was full. People came from all over to attend. Even Deana's snooty family dressed in the finery they bought with the funds he provided them. They couldn't afford to snub the man who paid for the roof over their heads, could they?
Nicholas wore sunglasses. He stood when the minister asked for responses and walked proudly to the podium. He gave a glowing account of Greg's life. Several others gave accolades as well, even Deana's father.
All in all, it went off very well. Dinner was held in the country club afterward and the social community showed up. A worthy affair for his brother, even if they came to gawk and gather tidbits to gossip about later. They were there and that was all that mattered.
Deana looked embarrassed through the entire procedure, but that was her problem. Doyles didn't tuck their heads. And if she didn't like the way he did things, she could damn well leave. He didn't need her. But she needed him. They both knew that.
Soon after Nicholas returned home he changed into more casual clothing. Deana's family was there, but he spent only a few minutes with them before he excused himself and set off to Greg's apartment.
He'd always given his brother complete privacy. Now he'd have to go through his effects. Sort things out. It was too early for all that, but he wanted to be near Greg's belongings. This was the place he'd spent most of his time. He felt closer to him here.
Nicholas glanced around the place. Greg had several pieces he'd restored and placed around the room. Pieces that would be saved for eternity. Nicholas planned to put some of them in his house. Deana wouldn't like it, but he would keep his brother alive.
“You won't be forgotten, Greg,” he said, emotions raw with grief.
He took a framed picture off the table beneath a large window. It was a photo the two of them had taken together at Greg's college graduation. Greg wore his cap and gown. He'd graduated with honors.
Another photo was of the king salmon they'd caught in Alaska. Nicholas had hired a private guide and they'd gone fishing for a few days. They'd taken a couple of weeks to tour various places there.
He placed the photo back on the table.
Many people had attended Greg's funeral, not because they loved Greg, but out of respect for Nicholas. He was glad they were gone. False assholes, every one of them. Beginning with his simpering wife.
She tried to be consoling. But he knew she was glad Greg was gone. She was embarrassed because of what she'd referred to as a stain on their name. People were whispering horrible things about his brother and Nicholas hated that.
“Nick, are you there?” Deana asked, knocking on the door. She still wore her proper black suit. Nicholas was sick of socialites and all they stood for. Maybe if he'd stayed in D.C. this would never have happened.
He glanced up as she came in.
“Oh, honey. Let me have someone take care of things here for you. You shouldn't torture yourself.” She glanced around the room and curved her mouth distastefully.
“I'll take care of it. Why don't you go back to the house and visit with your family?”
“They left. They thought I should spend some time with you.”
“I appreciate they came by.”
“You're family, darling. Of course they would come.” She smiled.
“I want to spend some time here alone. Why don't you go back to the house? I'll be a while. You might want to go out. Even visit your parents.”
“But . . .”
“I want to be alone,” he repeated adamantly.
“If you wish.” She left, closing the door behind her.
Nicholas had already been in the bedroom earlier when he'd had to choose Greg's favorite suit for the funeral. Now he wanted to be in his brother's work space. The place where Greg spent most of his time. The place where he used his talents to create.
He'd begun to work on some new pieces. They were at various stages of completion. Some were drying. They were personal pieces, not commissioned ones. At least Nicholas didn't have to hunt up another taxidermist to complete the jobs for clients.
He clutched a fist to his chest. His brother was his heart.
His heart
. And some fool had got him mixed up in a dangerous pursuit. Greg would never have thought of it on his own.
He went to Greg's office and scanned through various papers. He was there almost two hours before he found what he was looking for. The names of the people who dragged Greg into this mess.
He balled his hands into fists. He'd deal with them after he dealt with Lisa and her boyfriend, Brian. The quarterback sheriff and Alyssa.
He took the stairs to the basement, wondering what was stored there.
He entered a main area that had many of Greg's creations. He opened the door to another room and stopped at the threshold, staring in shock and bewilderment.
It couldn't be. Even as Nicholas witnessed this, he couldn't believe it. Greg's girlfriend was lying prone on a bed wearing jeans and a skimpy top. Nicholas's heart sank.
Greg had grieved when she went missing. Had refused to move on. Had searched for her, or at least pretended to. Greg had restored her body, just as he'd restored dead animals. Nicholas backed out of the door. All around him dead animals stared into nothing with glass eyes. Greg had restored all of them. Searched for them in the forest. Had probably killed them himself.
“My God.” Nicholas was seeing it, but he couldn't believe it. Nick had done everything to show Greg a different way of life—a good life. He'd made sure Greg stayed out of trouble. Took time with the boy. Talked to him.
This was too much. He sat down hard on a chair. The chair Greg must have used when he spent time in the room to be with the woman he'd loved.
Everyone thought that she'd run away or that some stranger had killed her and hidden the body. Greg had been devastated. Even refused to date another woman. Had talked to her friends.
The boy was a chip off the old block. Nicholas saw Greg as a kindred spirit. He sighed with grief, hurt, pain.
Feeling years older than his age, Nicholas stood. He had to get rid of the body without detection. That shouldn't be a problem.
Maybe he could bury her near Greg. Greg would like that. Or perhaps in the woods somewhere that wasn't too far away.
But he couldn't do any of that before he avenged Greg's death. It would be a tribute to his brother.
Why hadn't he seen what was going on? Had he spent too much time with Deana? He should have known. He should have known.
Nicholas sighed again, tiredly. His birthday was next week. He knew his wife had planned a big party for him. He wondered if the guests would show up now that Greg had been charged with breaking and entering. He didn't care. He wasn't in the partying mood.

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