Fortune Hunter (A Miss Fortune Mystery Book 8) (18 page)

We told Gertie exactly what we saw from the time Ida Belle accosted me at the fence up until when we arrived at Nolan’s front door. Gertie looked slightly disappointed that we didn’t have more to tell, but she agreed that we’d definitely gone the right route, leaving out my intended search of Brandon’s truck and hedging a bit on how we saw the flashlights.

“What could he possibly want in that room?” Gertie asked.

“I have no clue,” I said. “It’s a desperate move, and I can only see making it if you know for sure that something in there exposes you.”

“But surely Brandon would know that the house was already worked by a forensics team,” Ida Belle said. “They always take laptops, and that’s the only place I can imagine proof might be.”

I shrugged. “When it comes to criminals, I’ve learned there’s no telling what they might think.”

“That’s true enough,” Ida Belle said.

Gertie sighed. “If only we knew for sure what he was doing in his truck. No matter how hard I try, I can’t wrap my mind around Brandon as a killer.”

“I’m a killer,” I pointed out. “Most people who’ve met me would have a hard time believing that, but it’s true.”

“But you’re a professional,” Ida Belle said. “You’re trained to play the role you’re dealt. Granted, this cover has been a bit of a reach, but I don’t think anyone would ever come close to guessing your true identity. You immersed yourself in the role, or at least, gave it your best attempt—extensions, nail polish, wearing a dress—all of it goes to creating the persona that you wanted people to believe.”

Gertie nodded. “And since this is a small town made up of mostly nice people, no one thinks twice about it. No one assumes you’re anything but what you claim to be. But Brandon has lived here his entire life. How could he hide something that disturbing for so long?”

I frowned. It was a damned good question. Granted, sociopaths were capable of the most extraordinary things, but surely there would have been a crack in Brandon’s armor before now.

“I wish I had an answer for you,” I said, “but I’m afraid we’re just going to have to wait and see what happens. Maybe we’re wrong. Maybe there’s some perfectly logical explanation that doesn’t include Brandon as the villain.”

Ida Belle and Gertie glanced at each other, and I could tell they’d like to believe that was possible, but neither of them could come up with a good explanation for everything we’d seen either.

“I’m going to get out of here,” I said. “I need some dry clothes, and then I’m going to hop in bed and sleep until we have power again. You ready, Ida Belle?”

“I think I’ll just stay here tonight,” Ida Belle said. “I’ll get my motorcycle tomorrow.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “Make sure everything is locked down here.”

I headed out and heard the dead bolt slide into place as soon as I stepped off the porch and the beep of the security system. The rain was still pouring down as I drove home. I parked in the garage, then retrieved Ida Belle’s motorcycle and moved it inside the garage. I reached for the garage door opener before realizing it wouldn’t work while the power was out, so instead of pressing it, I stood staring out into the stormy weather.

If only we knew for sure what he was doing in his truck.

No one assumes you’re anything but what you claim to be.

How could he hide something that disturbing for so long?

Gertie’s words echoed in my mind and the longer I thought about them the more frustrated I become. And then suddenly it hit me—the one answer that made sense. The only way all the pieces fit together.

I turned on the flashlight on my phone, opened my Jeep, and dug around in the box of equipment. Somewhere in there was a camera. It was tiny, but it had a chip that could record at least a day of footage. It would fit easily into an air vent and unless someone was looking for it, they’d never know it was there.

Aha!

I pulled the tiny black camera out of the box and smiled. Now I just had to get it in place and somehow manage to avoid Carter seeing me do it. Despite his claim that he would wait to question Brandon until he had a plan, I had no doubt that action would take priority over the paperwork he claimed he needed to complete. Which meant he’d be lurking around to see if anything odd happened.

Carter would spot my Jeep blocks away, so I couldn’t risk taking it. Instead, I grabbed a black rain jacket from a hook in the garage and pulled it on, then slipped the camera in my pocket and set out down the street. Twenty-four hours of camera footage. With any luck I’d get what I needed the first round.

I
t was still raining
the next morning, but the power was back on. I took my time stretching before I got out of bed, pretty sure I broke some kind of record by sleeping until 8:00 a.m. No pounding on my door or emergency phone calls. No creepy critters of the four- or two-legged variety disrupting my slumber. And best of all, I didn’t have to put on a dress. If it hadn’t been for the whole murder thing, it might have been an almost-perfect day.

I headed downstairs to fix breakfast and grabbed my cell phone. A quick check of the GPS tracker showed that Brandon’s truck was still parked in his driveway. Given that it was Sunday in Sinful, I wasn’t sure he’d go anywhere, but if he did, I intended to know about it. I stuck a Pop-Tart in the toaster and gave Gertie a call to check on her ankle.

She said she thought it was a tiny bit better than yesterday, but Ida Belle had made her breakfast and insisted she stay put. Gail’s parents were due in town sometime that afternoon. They were staying with Marie, but Ida Belle and Gertie wanted to be on hand to pay their condolences as they’d known them all their lives. Gertie was still fussing over following Brandon, but Ida Belle said Carter would be all over him and we needed to steer clear, at least for a little while. They planned on having a
Gunsmoke
marathon until Gail’s parents arrived, and told me to come over and join in.

I declined the invitation. One, because despite the fact that it had guns, the television show didn’t appeal to me. Two, because I wanted to be available to track Brandon if needed. Ida Belle assumed Carter would be watching him, but I figured Carter would want to work Nolan’s house with the forensics team, and he couldn’t do both. If Brandon took off this morning, Carter would probably still be at Nolan’s house. By the time I got off the phone, my Pop-Tart was singed around the edges and the coffee was done brewing. I poured a cup and headed into the living room with my breakfast and turned on the television. I flipped through the channels and located a
Jurassic Park
marathon. I’d seen the first movie and liked it, so I figured what the heck. Maybe prehistoric killers could take my mind off the more contemporary kind.

I had just started the fourth installment when I realized that I couldn’t recall what had happened in the previous two. I sighed. I’d tried to get into the movies, but I couldn’t focus. I was antsy about the camera. Was it working properly? I hadn’t tested it before I put it in. I was sure the equipment Harrison sent me was top-notch but you never knew when something might be flawed. Until it didn’t work when you needed it. And even if it worked, would I get the footage I needed to prove my theory? Granted, if the first set of footage didn’t yield anything it wasn’t like I could put the camera back and try again. But in the meantime, a murderer was running loose in Sinful.

My cell phone dinged and I picked it up, then bolted off the couch and ran for my keys. Brandon was on the move! I was in my Jeep and on the road in a matter of minutes, but the dot on my screen showed that Brandon had already left town and was on the highway driving toward New Orleans. I headed that direction, watching the dot to see if it turned off.

When I reached the highway, it was empty as far as I could see, but there was a bend in the road a good mile ahead and then it disappeared around a line of trees. I rounded the corner and checked the phone again, but the dot had disappeared. A couple taps on the screen didn’t yield any change. I pulled over on the side of the road and checked the signal, but I had plenty of strength. Moving to the next option in my box of tricks, I shut off the phone, then turned it back on to reboot the app, but the dot didn’t reappear. When I accessed the tracker, it came back with a message that said Unavailable.

I tossed my phone on the passenger’s seat and cursed. Something had happened to the tracker. Quite possibly, Brandon had gone barreling down one of those narrow bumpy roads like he usually did and it had disengaged. Then maybe he’d run it over. Or perhaps he’d gone through a muddy area and the tracker was so coated it stopped performing.

Whatever the case, I’d reached a dead end. The number of roads and trails that spun off the highway was practically unlimited. It would take a month to cover them all. Disgusted with the cold trail and frustrated that there was nothing I could do but sit and wait until tonight when I could retrieve the camera, I turned the Jeep around and headed back to Sinful.

My cell phone rang on the way back home. It was Ida Belle. Gail’s parents had arrived and they were going to visit them at Marie’s house. They wanted me to come. I couldn’t think of a good reason why I needed to meet Gail’s parents, but I also couldn’t think of a good reason to refuse. I assumed Ida Belle and Gertie didn’t want me sitting in my house alone and this was their way of forcing me into socializing. I wasn’t sure grieving parents were the best people to expose to someone like me, but I figured at this point, I couldn’t make things worse, either.

I told her I needed to shower and get presentable, then I’d stop by for a bit but probably wouldn’t stay very long. This sort of thing wasn’t within my skill set.

I took a quick shower, blow-dried my hair, and put on a dash of lip gloss. I know it was the South and Sunday, but I still balked at putting on a dress. I’d been given the day off and I intended to take it. Instead I pulled on jeans and a polo shirt and headed for Marie’s house.

Gail’s parents were an older couple and I could immediately tell where Gail got her nice gene. They were clearly overwrought but couldn’t stop thanking everyone for their kindness. Marie for letting them stay with her. Ida Belle, Gertie, and me for giving Marie a much-needed break and sitting with Nolan. The entire town for bringing food and for the many phone calls and emails from residents sending their thoughts and prayers.

Nolan showed up about twenty minutes after I did. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days and that was probably true, more or less. Dozing for ten or even thirty minutes didn’t give your body the rest it needed. I’d played the sleepless game enough times to know that eventually it caught up with you.

He approached Gail’s parents and immediately apologized that they couldn’t stay in their prior home.

“I don’t want you to feel that you’re not welcome,” Nolan said. “It’s still your home as well. But I’ve had to move to the guest room because of the police—” His voice cracked and he coughed and looked down for a bit.

Gail’s mother put her hand on Nolan’s shoulder. “We understand. It’s probably for the best anyway. I’m not sure…”

Her voice trailed off but we all knew what she was thinking—that being in the same house where her daughter had been murdered might not be the most comfortable place to be. Assuming that there was any comfortable place to be given the circumstances.

Ida Belle cleared her throat and looked down at Nolan. “Did the police, uh, finish?”

Nolan nodded. “I haven’t been there yet, but I spoke with Carter earlier. He said I’m free to return home. I have some paperwork and a few other things I need to handle, but I think I’ll pack some more clothes and stay at the hotel again. The soonest someone can get out to fix the upstairs window will be tomorrow, and I need to hire someone to clear the room, uh…anyway, the hotel wasn’t too bad and at least it’s secure.”

We all shifted uncomfortably at the thought of someone hauling the bed that Gail had died on out of the room, and that wasn’t the end of the things that would need to be addressed. Murder wasn’t a tidy business.

“Do you need any help today?” Ida Belle asked.

“No, thank you,” Nolan answered. “I don’t have that much to do, really. I guess I mostly just need some time to think.”

“And to rest,” Gertie said. “If you can manage it.”

He nodded. “I’m certainly going to try.”

Gail’s father stepped forward and I could tell he’d spent a good amount of time crying. “Would you like us to help with the, er, arrangements?”

Nolan gave them a sad smile. “You know Gail. Everything was prearranged and paid for. She always said that if something happened she didn’t want us dealing with such things.”

My eyes misted up a bit and I moved away from the discussion and went to stand at the back window, looking out over Marie’s well-manicured backyard. Bones, the old hound dog I’d inherited with the house and rehomed with Marie, was lying in the backyard, stretched out in the sun and enjoying the afternoon. He was completely oblivious to all the sadness and turmoil around him.

If only everyone could view life from the perspective of an aging hound dog.

* * *

J
ust after midnight
, I peered over a hedge and checked out the house. The front porch light was on but that was it. Looked like no one was home. Perfect. I could retrieve the camera, and hopefully, Sinful’s latest nightmare would be over by tomorrow morning. I’d driven through downtown and spotted Carter’s truck at the sheriff’s department, then went back home and pulled on a black hoodie before setting out. I took a circuitous route to the house, making sure that Carter wasn’t lurking somewhere on foot, as he sometimes did, but all appeared to be clear. All I needed was ten uninterrupted minutes. Then I’d have the camera secured and would be back in my kitchen watching the footage that hopefully would nail a murderer.

I slipped down the side of the house and pushed up the window I’d left unlocked the night before when I’d placed the camera in an air vent in Nolan’s living room. I lifted myself over the window ledge and rolled silently onto the carpeted floor, pausing for a moment to listen. The house was completely silent, and I moved quickly to the couch and climbed on the back directly below the air vent. I pulled a screwdriver out of my pocket and removed the vent from the wall. I flipped the vent over, expecting to see the camera on the back of a vent slat, where I’d attached it, but it was gone.

“Looking for something?” Nolan’s voice sounded behind me and I turned around, still balanced on the back of the couch. He stood in the hallway that led to the guest room, a pistol with suppressor leveled at me. The camera dangling in his other hand.

“I set up my own little televised network days ago,” he continued. “I was afraid if I couldn’t get out of Sinful soon enough, something like this might be in the cards.”

“I see you’ve had a miraculous recovery,” I said, and pointed to his legs.

“I think we both know that’s not the case. You know, I wondered which of you it was. Carter couldn’t do it without a court order, and he needed a good reason and time to get one. Marie was out because, well, she would never have made the leap you did. But the three of you…you’ve managed to be in the middle of everything that happens in Sinful. I knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your nose out of this. I just didn’t expect you to hit on the answer so soon.”

“I’m so sorry I interrupted your murder-and-insurance-grab timeline.”

“No interruption. Merely a small delay that caused another shift in plans, like the one created by that idiot Derrick. If he hadn’t catfished that Latour woman and brought attention to all of this, Gail might have had another six months or a year of life.”

“You’re despicable.”

He smiled. “I’m clever. Derrick did it all wrong and got caught. Greed is the problem with the short game. If Derrick hadn’t asked for such a large amount, she probably wouldn’t have reported him. None of my victims came trotting forward until Beulah started braying like an injured donkey.”

“So you figured you’d make Gail another victim of the catfish, except this time, you’d escalate it.”

“It did seem to be the easiest solution for a speedy exit. By tomorrow, I’ll have a death certificate in hand and the insurance company is already prepared to expedite my check.”

“I’m sure your partner Francesca is only too happy to see to it that it happens. What’s her cut—twenty percent? Half? Or maybe she’s your partner in more than just crime.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re even more clever than I realized. Perhaps I’m not the only person in Sinful who isn’t what they seem. It’s almost a shame to kill you. You would have made a great criminal.”

“And how do you propose to explain shooting me?” I asked.

“I don’t propose to explain it at all. I’ll simply return here tomorrow morning with Gail’s parents and gasp at the shocking discovery of a dead woman in my living room. Ballistics will match the weapon used to kill Gail and everyone will think you were in on it with him or snooping about again and this time, you came up short.”

I felt my heart drop. He was right. Suspicion wouldn’t fall on Nolan. Everyone thought he was tucked away in a hotel, not to mention the fact that no one else knew he could walk. That was exactly what I’d been hoping to capture with the camera. It would have blown Nolan’s entire alibi out of the water.

“I told the others,” I said, trying to come up with a way to delay the inevitable. Time produced options.

He cocked his head to the side and studied me. “You’re a convincing liar, but nonetheless a liar, I think. And even if you told them your suspicions, they have no proof. By the time those two busybodies convince anyone to check their story, I’ll be long gone.”