Deadly Intentions (9 page)

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Authors: Candice Poarch

BOOK: Deadly Intentions
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12
An hour later they rode the ferry to the mainland and drove toward Ocean Front Street.
“What happened now?” Lisa asked, applying her foot to the brake.
Brian frowned. Police cars formed a barricade before they even reached the street. Lisa parked the car and the two of them walked as close to the scene as they could. Most of the neighbors were on the street watching.
“Poor Mrs. Mable,” someone said. “Eileen drowned in the ocean. Must have ventured too far out attempting to save her dog.”
“She never gets in the ocean,” another one voiced.
“But—” Lisa started, stopping when Brian squeezed her hand. The pooch had washed up on shore.
“Her dog must have gone out in the water,” Mrs. Clark said, shaking her head. “It's the only explanation. She'd do anything for that mutt.”
“Poor Eileen.”
Lisa felt sick. She regarded the tableau before her for as long as she could. She wanted to be strong. She really did. She could do this. She could be as strong as Alyssa. She could do something good for a change. But she didn't see any good in this. Why did that woman have to go in the ocean for the dog? Of all things? Hadn't she read somewhere that animals instinctively knew how to swim?
Another thought occurred to Lisa. Mrs. Mable lived next door to the Knights.
Oh, my gosh . . . Could she have seen the killer?
Lisa nearly gagged. It was happening all over again. People were dying. She was mixed up in it again after nearly getting killed last year.
The neighbors might think the woman was killed searching for her pooch, but she could have been murdered.
“I'm going to be sick,” Lisa said, backing away.
“Not now,” Brian hissed.
He put his arm around her shoulders and marched her away from the crowd. “I'm taking you to the car.”
“I . . .”
“Damn it, Lisa. You can't afford to come unglued now.”
“Oh, right. Encountering two dead women on two consecutive days isn't enough for me to come unglued over? You think I'm made of cast iron like you?”
“Keep your voice down,” he demanded, opening the door and shoving her into the passenger seat. “Hold your head between your knees.”
If only Lisa could take that cane and beat him over the head. She took a few deep breaths before he hauled her up and marched her over to the scene again.
“You know, I can take care of myself. I'd rather stay in the car, anyway.”
“I'm not letting you out of my sight.”
Lisa had all she was going to take. She turned to rip into him when she saw the officer who interviewed them yesterday bear down on them. It took everything in her to bring herself under control before the man reached them.
He flipped open a notebook, a frown forming creases in the center of his forehead. “Ms. Claxton, are you by any chance related to Alyssa Claxton?”
“She's my cousin.”
Officer Wright immediately focused on Brian. “Mr. Knight, why are you making an appearance here?”
“To see if the crime scene tape had been lifted. I need to get a few things from the house.”
He nodded. “I want to remind you that this is not the military. Leave the investigating to the local police.”
Brian nodded. “I'm just here to heal from my injuries.”
Clearly the officer didn't believe him. Alyssa must have spoken to him.
“I'll arrange for someone to let you into the house later today.” He asked a few more questions before he gave them stern looks and took his leave.
They stayed a few more minutes, then drove to the rinky-dink motel Brian checked into the previous day.
“Let me take you to a better place than this flea trap,” Lisa said.
“This is okay. I like living within my means.”
Lisa could respect that. She didn't know his rank, but the military didn't pay a fortune. She turned into the parking lot, stopped in front of his room, and parked. She stared at the door in front of her. Her heart beat erratically. She was coming unglued. Two people were dead. Dead. Yesterday Lisa was riding on adrenaline. But today . . . Two people were dead, she thought again. She didn't belong here. Her goal was to find the bowl, then tell Alyssa.
She sat there so long, Brian twisted the key and took it out of the ignition. Then he laid his hand on Lisa's. “Come inside with me for a few minutes.”
She'd had enough. She should have let the cab take Brian home. She never should have clung close to him to get close to the bowl. She was ill equipped for investigating. She should have left it to Alyssa.
“I've got a lot to do.”
Lisa wanted to hand the information over to Alyssa, but Alyssa worked within the law and by that time, the bowl would disappear again. Maybe Lisa should talk to him. Maybe his grandfather hadn't known he was buying a stolen bowl. Or maybe it was wishful thinking on her part. Lisa was at a stalemate—at another crisis moment. Would she make the wrong decision, as usual? Would Brian turn out to be just another lying man who had his own selfish agenda?
He might be a fine-looking man, but this was strictly business, not personal. Lisa sighed, indecisive. Could she let go and trust again? The bowl was her family's heirloom. She couldn't afford to make another mistake. God knew she'd made too many in her lifetime. Okay, one of the things her sister tried to drill in her was that everyone made mistakes. Other people just learned their lesson and moved on. But other people didn't continually make mistake after mistake. She was trying to turn her life around—to make herself worthy of her grandmother's trust.
And she didn't want to end up dead like Harriet and Eileen.
Just because a few people had deceived her didn't mean that everyone would. Again, she had to remember this wasn't personal. She wasn't going to date Brian or become close friends with him.
Inside the rundown motel room, Lisa sat on the badly sprung couch. “Do you really think Mrs. Mable drowned?” she asked. “I've never met her, but I know some people are really protective of their animals.” She'd run into plenty of them in her line of work, but to drown saving your dog?
Brian sank to a chair. “Mrs. Mable lives next door to my grandfather. What do you think?”
Should she trust Brian? What was it about him that made her want to? If she was wrong, there was always plan two. Alyssa.
Her grandmother liked Brian and Lisa was pretty sure if Grandma trusted him, she could, too. Grandma was a good judge of character. Lisa decided to confide in him.
“I believe your grandfather had a bowl that's been in my family for generations. Since the early sixteen hundreds actually.”
Brian frowned. His grandfather had mentioned purchasing an antique bowl from a friend who'd had to sell off some of his assets. The friend had bought the bowl, but had fallen on hard times with the recession. He'd asked Brian's grandfather if he'd buy it and his grandfather had—sight unseen.
“Had a bowl?” Brian asked.
“I believe the people who killed Harriet stole the bowl from your grandfather's house.”
“Why didn't you tell the police that?”
“Because I wasn't sure. I don't have all the facts.”
“How do you even know about the bowl? This was your first time there.”
“The bowl was stolen from my family and we've been trying to trace it for more than a year.”
“How do you know it's your family's bowl?”
“There were only four bowls made. The other three are accounted for.”
“Antiquities are found in digs all the time. Who's to say this wasn't a recent find?”
“We know what they look like and it's so much of a coincidence. Besides a recent antiquity discovery would never be in private hands. Lots of people have died over this bowl. There are identifying marks on it,” Lisa said. “Once the bowl is found, my grandmother will be able to determine if it's my family's original bowl.”
“Do you know who killed Harriet?”
Lisa shook her head. “No. But I'm sure she was killed because of the bowl. I don't know who's after it or why they want it so badly. I don't know who stole it originally.”
“I wish you had told me this yesterday.”
Lisa looked Brian directly in the eyes. She had the most gorgeous brown eyes he'd ever seen. He was annoyed his thoughts had veered in that direction. He was glad she was finally telling the truth. At this point she had no reason to lie.
“I didn't know if I could trust you,” she finally said. “I still don't.”
“So why are you telling me now?”
“I don't have the bowl and I have nothing to lose by telling you.”
“How did you end up working at my grandfather's house?”
“When I suspected your grandfather had the bowl and that Harriet was searching for a cleaning person, I arranged an interview with her. And it's the reason I'm cleaning his house instead of giving the job to one of my workers.”
Brian sighed. “Let's visit Harriet's family. I can't put it off any longer. Hopefully by the time we return, the detective will let us back in the house. We can check then to see if the bowl is there.”
“The thief may already have it.”
“We'll deal with that, too.”
13
The family met at Harriet's sister's house.
“We can't go empty handed,” Lisa said. “And you need to get a sympathy card.” She pulled into a shopping center. “I'll get a platter and the card. You can wait in the car.”
Brian handed her a fifty. Inside the grocery store, Lisa selected a platter arranged with a variety of cheeses and meats. She also bought rolls. Brian had fallen asleep by the time she made it back to the car, but he awakened immediately when she opened the door.
“Got everything?”
Lisa nodded, storing her purchases in the backseat before she climbed into the front seat, cranked the motor and drove to Harriet's sister's house.
Several cars were parked in the yard. A couple of people were arguing on the porch. Lisa got the platter from the backseat. She and Brian heard snippets of the conversation when they approached the house.
“Aunt Harriet said she was leaving me money,” the woman said.
“She left me the house.”
“Well, we won't know until her lawyer reads the will.”
“I certainly hope her ex-husband's nieces and nephews don't think they're going to get Aunt Harriet's estate. They divorced decades ago.”
Lisa was disgusted. The woman wasn't buried and the vultures were circling already. Had she acted like that when Aunt Anna died?
The woman elbowed the man in the side. They both faced Lisa and Brian. “You all go inside,” the man said. “My mom is there.”
The older woman inside was a few years younger than Harriet and sported reddened eyes. Several younger people were sitting around the table. Someone took the platter from Lisa.
Brian and she were immediately introduced to Harriet's two sisters. Their children were organizing things for the funeral—writing newspaper articles, getting the program together.
“I'm so sorry for your loss,” Brian said.
The sister nodded. “She thought a lot of your grandfather. Does he know?”
“No. I sent a message, but it could be weeks before it reaches him. If there's anything I can do, please let me know.”
“We have everything under control,” the sister said. “Our children are helping us make the arrangements. I have your number and I'll let you know as soon as we decide on a date.”
Brian nodded.
They stayed a few minutes visiting with the family before they left.
“You don't think the ones on the porch had poor Harriet knocked off for her estate, do you?” Lisa asked, backing the car out of the driveway.
“No, I don't.”
Lisa turned on the radio and found the news. A body was missing in Norfolk.
Detective Wright called Brian, telling him someone would meet them at his grandfather's house.
But it wasn't just someone, it was the detective himself.
Justin was pacing near his front window when he noticed the cars pulling up in the driveway across the street late that afternoon. He watched the detective, Knight's grandson, and the cleaning woman enter the Knight house.
The detective broke the crime-scene tape on the door. Justin frowned as lights popped on in room after room. He was hoping the police would get rid of the tape, but it really didn't matter one way or another with him.
His cell phone rang, but he didn't take the time to look at the number.
They were there for fifteen minutes before they came outside. The woman was carrying a duffel bag. A bag that could very well be holding the golden bowl. He thought he'd checked the place thoroughly, but maybe he missed some hiding places.
The three stood by the car talking for a few minutes before they left.
Justin got into his car and followed the younger two. The maid dropped the guy off at the same motel where Justin had a room. He frowned. Was that just a coincidence or did this guy know something?
The woman didn't get out. After the guy went into the motel room, she drove off. Justin knew where the guy would be. He followed the woman. He was uneasy. Tootsie had stayed at an artist colony on Paradise Island. He'd rented a car and driven through just to get the lay of the land when he first arrived in the area for this project.
He'd have to lay low. Escaping from an island wasn't easy if you didn't have a boat handy. Ferries ran on schedule, but he didn't want the tiny police force waiting for him there. Then there was the Coast Guard. Things here were too iffy.
But instead of getting into the ferry line, she drove past it and turned around.
Justin sure hoped she wasn't watching for him, because he made a U-turn and stayed behind her as she drove through town. He wasn't letting that bag out of his sight.
She certainly wasn't headed back to the motel, he thought as he followed her for several miles. She turned into a seafood restaurant and parked. Night had fallen. He waited until she and a few others had gone inside before he approached her car.
It only took seconds to get inside. He grabbed the bag and was on his way back to his car when an old fart eased up behind him and caught hold of the bag. The asshole tried to whap him over the head with his cane and hollered for help.
“Stop, thief!”
They were drawing attention. Justin tried to snatch the bag from the man, but the old geezer dropped his cane and held on. Suddenly the zipper ripped, spilling clothing out on the pavement. He pushed the man aside, got into his car and sped away.
He pounded on the wheel. All that for clothes.
Lisa rushed over to the older man. “Are you okay? I'm calling an ambulance right now.”
“I'm all right,” the man assured her. “Just need some help getting to my feet is all.”
“You shouldn't have attacked him. He could have hurt you,” Lisa said, concerned.
A couple of men approached to help him.
“He broke into your car.” The man was winded after the effort.
“There were just clothes in there.” Brian's clothes actually. She'd forgotten to leave them with him when she dropped him off.
“Daddy?” A woman around sixty dropped her package and ran to the man. “What happened? Are you hurt?” She started feeling for broken bones.
“I'm okay. I'm all right. Don't make a fuss.”
Lisa picked his cane up from the ground and handed it to him.
“Thank you,” she told him. “But I wouldn't want you hurt over some clothes.”
“He followed you here. I saw him.”
Lisa glanced in the direction the car had gone. She hadn't noticed anyone following her.
“Are you sure?”
He nodded. “Pulled up right behind you. I got his license number, too.”
Someone had already called the police.
Lisa wondered if someone else thought the bowl was in the house. Perhaps it was still there. She and Brian needed to check again to make sure, although they hadn't seen it earlier when they'd gone through it.

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