Last Resort (18 page)

“Aren't you the least bit curious?”

“No.”

“Liar. You have to be.”

“It's not for us to fix,” he said. “Or solve.”

“But she needs help. Delilah, I mean.”

“Not from us.” He was adamant.

“Then from who?”

He sighed and folded his arms across his chest.

“I think we should go talk to Ellington,” I said.

“We don't even know him.”

“Um...well, that's not entirely true.”

“What?”

I looked away from him. “I might've met him.”

“Met him? How?”

“Remember when I went to the store? And I was gone too long?”

“I knew I was right. I knew it.”

“I might've gone to his office and told him we were looking to buy property,” I said, ignoring his need to remind me he'd been correct at guessing I'd gone somewhere besides the store. “Which, in theory, could be true.”

“Daisy,” he said, his voice taking that tone it usually did when he was very, very irritated. “You need to explain. Right now.”

I sighed and told him about my excursion into town and our conversation.

When I finished, he was shaking his head. I'd seen that before.

“Daisy,” he said. “Daisy.”

“What? I was just trying to...help.”

“I think your definition of help is a lot different than the one most people use.”

“Probably. I'm very helpful,” I said. I stood up. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“To help.”

“Daisy.”

I tried to lighten the mood. “That's my name, don't wear it out,” I said, smiling at him. “And you can either come with me or stay here. It's up to you.”

“Daisy...”

“You're wearing it out.”

He mumbled something, a dark frown on his face, but he pushed himself out of the chair and stood.

Which was his way of conceding I'd won.

Yay for winning!

THIRTY TWO

“It's nice to see you again, Ms. Savage,” Davis Ellington said from behind his desk. “And I see you brought your husband along this time.”

We'd walked back to the cabin, with Jake trying to talk me out of doing anything other than packing as we walked. I smiled at him the entire time, walked into the cabin, grabbed the car keys to the rental and sat patiently in the driver's seat, waiting for him to get in.

He finally did and we'd driven to Ellington's office in silence.

“Yes,” I said. “This is my husband, Jake.”

Ellington stood and they shook hands. Ellington patted him on the back, congratulating him on all of his kids. Jake forced a smile onto his lips but he shot me a look.

Ellington gestured at the chairs in front of his desk as he sat back down. “Have a seat, have a seat.”

I had a momentary pang of guilt when it dawned on me that he thought we were there to discuss real estate.

“So,” he said, looked expectantly at each of us before settling his gaze on Jake. “Have you all been taking a look around the area? Find something you like?”

Jake turned to me so that I could answer. He leaned back in his chair, a small smile on his lips as he waited for me to talk my way through everything. I'm sure he took some small pleasure in watching me squirm a little.

“Well, not exactly,” I said.

“No?” Ellington said, eyebrows raised. He cleared his throat. “Well, that's okay because I've had several things come on the market in just the past day or two. I think several might interest you, based on what we discussed previously.”

He wasn't going to make it easy.

“Actually, we're here for a different reason,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “I have a question for you.”

He looked again expectantly at Jake, like he might somehow clue him in as to why we were there, but Jake just kept forcing the same smile. “A question?”

“Yes,” I said. “About why Harvey might've come here a few days ago. Before he died.”

His smile faded, but more out of confusion than anything else. “I'm not sure I follow.”

Jake gave me a look that said, “You're on your own.”

I shifted in my chair. “I understand that Harvey came to see you a few days ago. And that he wasn't very happy when he got here.”

He blinked several times, then frowned. “That's correct. But why are you asking me?”

I had to think for a moment. I didn't want to lie, but I didn't feel like it was my place to blurt out everything that was going on with Windy Vista. That was for Delilah to share with people if she wanted.

“I've just been trying to figure out what happened to Harvey,” I said. “Since I was the one that found him, I feel like I have some sort of responsibility to him. And I know that doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but sometimes I don't make a whole lot of sense.” I smiled at him. “So I'm just trying to get a picture of what was going on with him before...whatever happened to him, happened to him. If that makes sense.”

Ellington nodded slowly. “Ah, well, yes, I suppose it makes some sense. Harvey was...frustrated.”

I didn't say anything. In my short time as an amateur sleuth, I'd found that if I shut my big mouth once in awhile, people would feel the need to keep talking. Something about finding the silence awkward.

Ellington cleared his throat again and I wondered if he was a closet smoker. “I'd been trying to help Harvey. With some investing. And he was upset that the investments weren't coming along as he'd hoped.”

“Were the investments for him?” I asked.

Ellington pursed his lips. “Yes and no. It was his money, but he was willing to give it to Windy Vista. He was hoping that enough money would be generated in order to help bail out the resort.” He smiled weakly at me. “You saw me the other day with Delilah and probably, unfortunately, heard some of our conversation, too. She was upset and I understand why. But you're obviously aware now of the campground's financial struggles.”

“Yes,” I said.

Ellington nodded. “I assumed so. So what Harvey really wanted was to take a little money and turn it into a lot of money.”

“And so he came to you for that?” I asked.

Ellington nodded again. “Yes. I have a financial background and help some folks out on the side around town. Harvey knew that and he came to me to see if I could help. I told him I'd be happy to try.”

A ceiling fan high above our heads buzzed.

“You said try,” I said. “So you tried, but...?”

Ellington shifted his weight in the chair and the vinyl squeaked. “I told him it wasn't a get rich quick scheme. That, as with any investing, there was risk involved. A return wasn't guaranteed.” He paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I did what he asked with the money he wanted to invest. It did not...go well.”

Which would explain Harvey's anger and frustration.

“He wanted me to be aggressive because he was hoping for a quick return,” Ellington continued. “So I was. Unfortunately, being aggressive in the market also means that you can aggressively lose what you've invested. You see where I'm headed here?”

Both Jake and I nodded.

“So when Harvey came to see me, he'd apparently just taken a look at the accounts,” he explained. “The stocks we'd put his money into took a large hit.” He held up his hands. “It was all gone. He was angry, which I understood. But it was out of my control. He was disappointed.” He shook his head sadly. “But there was nothing for me to do.”

I could imagine Harvey's frustration. It was a desperate move and he'd pinned all of his hopes to it, no matter how unrealistic it was that the move would pay off. I was sad for a man I'd never gotten to meet, that he'd felt that strongly about a place that he'd put everything he owned into one shot at saving it. I thought everyone should feel that much love for something in their life, even it meant meeting with disappointment.

“What kind of stocks did you dump the money into?” Jake asked.

Ellington shifted again in his chair. “You familiar with the markets?”

“Eh, not really. Just asking more out of curiosity.”

Ellington reached up and tugged on his earlobe. “Sure, sure. Well, we, uh, looked at a variety of different options and, like I said, Harvey wanted to be aggressive, so we moved the money into some stocks that had a better chance of taking off. We did some research and those were the ones Harvey was most interested in.”

“So, like, tech stocks? Start-up stuff?”

Ellington nodded. “Yeah, like that.” Then he frowned. “But, as I said, there's always a risk. In order to make money, you've got to take some risks.”

“Right,” Jake said.

I could tell by the way he said it that he wasn't completely satisfied with the answer he'd gotten. But I wasn't sure there was anything else to ask. It all made sense. Harvey made a last ditch attempt and it failed. He blamed Ellington, fairly or unfairly.

I stood up and swung my purse over my shoulder. “Thanks for your time.”

Ellington sat there for a moment, his expression expectant. “Well maybe now we can talk about finding you two that property you were hoping to find?”

Jake got to his feet. “I think we're going to wait on that.”

Ellington reluctantly stood up and hitched up his pants. “Now's a good time to be looking. I'm sure I could find you a pretty good deal up here.”

“I'm sure you could,” I said, smiling. “We'll be in touch.”

We left before he could keep us there any longer.

THIRTY THREE

“So what do you think happened to the money?” I asked.

It was the next morning and we were up early, tooling around Windy Vista in the golf cart. We'd returned to the campground after meeting with Ellington and Jake had waved off any conversation about him or Harvey or Delilah or anyone else connected to the events of the past week. Instead, he'd thrown steaks on the grill, opened a couple of beers and we'd Skyped with the kids because we missed them. We couldn't use the iPad because the router was still in police custody so we used Jake's phone instead. They told us all about their week—there'd been no more sprained ankles, my Dad hadn't ruined any more electrical equipment and the Bonfire with Boys had gotten rained out—and it made me miss them even more. Jake seemed intent on wrapping up our trip sooner than planned because of the uncertainty and, after chatting with the kids and seeing them on our computer screen, I was just fine with that. So we'd gone to bed early and gotten up early so we could make arrangements to head home. We weren't sure if we could reschedule our flight or drive the rental car home but they were both options we could consider.

The morning was crisp and cool and, even with all of the drama that had surrounded our trip to Windy Vista, I was still feeling a little nostalgic about leaving.

And, of course, my mind was still working over Harvey and the money.

“Didn't we decide to drop this?” Jake asked, guiding the cart with a single hand, his other arm draped lazily over the seat and behind me.

“You decided to drop it last night because you were tired of it,” I pointed out. “I merely agreed to table it.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah. Ah.”

He coasted to a stop sign, paused and then pressed the accelerator again. “I don't know what happened to the money. I think Harvey was hoping for too much and I'm not sure Ellington was much of a help.”

“Why?”

“His answers about the stocks,” he said. “He didn't give me a direct answer about where they parked the money. And you know I'm not some financial wizard, but I'd like to think I know a little bit about where you'd invest money if you hoped to turn it around fast. But Ellington didn't answer me specifically about where he'd put it and that makes me think he didn't know what he was doing with it.”  He shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe not. I just thought his answer was kind of evasive, something you might get from a guy who pretends to be a finance guy, but is really just an amateur.”

I nodded. I did, too. I wondered if Ellington was just that guy in a small town who everyone turned to simply because there was no one else to turn to. Maybe he'd somehow become the default expert on all things.

Jake guided the cart past the clubhouse and we drove through the parking lot and onto the dirt trail that led to the lower campground.

“So you think he was just pissed that it was all gone?” I asked. “That he went to Ellington just to confirm?”

“Probably,” Jake said. “And vent a little. He probably was mad and probably initially blamed Ellington. That's not unusual when guys lose their shirts in the markets—they tend to blame their brokers first before realizing that they hired the broker to do something they didn't want to do themselves.” He slowed as the dirt road got bumpy. “But all brokers are just educated guessers. They're like weathermen. And it's not their fault when something happens to a company suddenly and the bottom drops out of their stocks.”

“So then why didn't Delilah know about it?”

The trail narrowed and Jake put his other hand on the wheel as we cut through the dense thicket of trees and bushes, dust kicking up all around us.

“Good question,” he said. “But my guess is that she didn't know he'd handed the money over to Ellington. I think that might be why he didn't want those goofball twins to know where he was going because they'd start asking questions or blabbing to anyone with ears. But he and Delilah opened the account together and then she seemed to leave it in his hands. So maybe he pulled the money out to give to Ellington and didn't tell her. She stayed away from it, then decided she needed the money to pay the bills and it was empty.”

I leaned toward the middle of the cart as some of the longer branches from the bushes that lined the trail reached toward us.

“I think Harvey was trying to do a good thing and Delilah was hoping he could come through,” Jake said. “But neither of them were being realistic. They were both hoping for miracles that didn't happen.”

I thought he was right. It was just sad to hear. I didn't like bad things to happen to good people and I thought both Delilah and Harvey were good people.

“So what happened to Harvey then?” I asked.

“That's the million dollar question, I guess,” Jake said.

“Because it can't just be coincidence.”

“It could be.”

“But it's not. No way. All of this stuff happens at the same time?”

“Maybe he killed himself.”

“We found him. It wasn't suicide.”

“Technically, you found him...”

“Shut up.”

He chuckled, then shrugged. “I don't know what happened to Harvey. And my hope is we'll be gone before they figure it out because I think I've had enough of the goings-on up here.”

I sighed. I wanted to know what happened, but I was starting to agree with him. It seemed like fun was going to be hard to find at Windy Vista in the coming days and I didn't want to be a part of that. We were probably better served getting packed up and home to the kids.

We descended the bottom of the trail, leaving the trees and bushes behind us. The lower campground looked deserted. No one was out walking their dogs, no kids were out riding their bikes. But there were cars parked in front of campers so I knew we weren't alone. Jake maneuvered the cart down to a fork in the road and then continued on to the right. Then he slowed, leaning forward.

“What?” I asked.

“You smell that?”

I sniffed the air. “No.”

“Smells like gas.”

“Natural?”

“No. Like from a pump.”

He slowed the cart. The lots we passed looked abandoned, with rusted out campers and waist high grass.

“I don't think anyone's back here,” I said. “Why would we smell gasoline?”

Jake ignored me and leaned out his side of the cart as he drove, still sniffing at the air. Then he pointed straight ahead. “Well someone's back here.”

I looked to where he was pointing. The waist high weeds in the lot at the end of the path were flattened down in two rows. An old silver air stream trailer sat crooked on the lot, with two busted out windows, one flat tire and a sagging clothesline next to it. The flattened grass ran to the right of the trailer and disappeared behind it.

And I smelled the gasoline, too.

Jake hit the brake on the cart and we stopped.

I could barely make out voices on the other side of the trailer. Jake cocked his head to the side, then held his finger to his lips. The voices grew louder.

And we recognized them.

“Just pour it everywhere, I guess,” Jaw said, backing around the corner of the trailer, a red gas can in his hands. “Shoot, I don't know. I ain't never done this before.”

Chuck emerged on the other side, backing around the same way, an identical can in his hands, gasoline spilling out of it onto the grass. “Well, me, either, dude. I was just asking.”

“Just asking what?” Jake asked loudly.

Both of them froze and turned slowly in our direction. The blood drained from their faces almost simultaneously.

Jaw set his gas can down and wiped his hands together. “Uh, about watering the yard here. We ain't never, uh, taken care of a yard.”

“Watering a yard? With gas?”

Chuck and Jaw looked at one another.

“There ain't gas in here,” Chuck said. “It's water.”

“Smells a lot like gas,” Jake said.

“Probably because they used to hold gas,” Chuck said. “Yeah. That's why.”

“Are you going to set fire to that trailer?” I asked, horrified.

Both of them looked at me like they were seeing me for the first time.

Jaw then looked at Chuck. “Did you tell her?”

Chuck scowled back at him. “No, I didn't tell her. How could I have done that?”

“Well, how else would she have known?”

Jake had closed the distance between him and Chuck. Chuck realized it and dropped his gas can. Whatever was left in it spilled out and streamed toward Jake's feet. Jake took a step back and leaned toward the ground.

“Definitely gasoline,” he said.

“Aren't you guys out on bail?” I asked.

Neither said anything.

“Daisy, just pull out your phone and call the police,” Jake said.

“No!” Chuck yelled. “Don't do that!”

“We are so screwed,” Jaw muttered, shuffling his feet agains the weeds.

“Daisy, I'm serious,” Jake said. “Get your phone out.”

I reached in my pocket.

“It ain't our idea,” Jaw muttered.

“Quiet,” Chuck barked. “Or we ain't gonna get paid.”

“We ain't gonna get paid anyway if we go back to jail.”

“I'm not going back!” Chuck yelled, then took off running toward Jake.

Jake waited for him to close the distance, then slid over to get in his path. Chuck immediately recoiled as if Jake was going to tackle him and he fell to the ground.

Jake looked at me. “Well, that was easy.”

Jaw shook his head. “Man, you are so stupid.”

Chuck was sitting on his rear end, leaning back on his hands, unsure of what to do with himself.

“You said this wasn't your idea,” I said to Jaw, as I pulled my phone out. “What did you mean?”

Jaw bounced on his heels, like his feet were covered with biting flies. “I mean, it wasn't our idea.”

I looked around. I saw a couple of other abandoned trailers in the cul-de-sac. Overgrown yards. A red pick up. An old station wagon. Two bikes laid up agains one of the abandoned trailers, one of them missing a tire. But I didn't see another person.

“So whose idea was it?” I asked.

Jaw didn't say anything.

“And why were you going to burn it down?” I asked. “What's the point in that?”

“Just more trouble around here,” Chuck mumbled.

“So you're trying to make trouble around here?” I asked.

“It ain't us,” Jaw said.

“Well, I don't see anyone else around here,” I said, turning around, irritated. “I see a couple of old trailers. A truck. A station wagon. A couple of...”

Then I stopped.

My eyes moved back toward the truck.

A truck I'd seen before.

“Daisy?” Jake asked.

A red truck. That I'd seen at Delilah's office.

And a cold chill ran down my spine.

I looked back to Jaw and said “Is anyone else here?”

He looked at Chuck and his friend stared back at him. Then both of their eyes drifted back toward the trailer.

And the door of the trailer opened.

Davis Ellington walked out with a gun in one hand and a gas can in the other.

He smiled. “I'm here.”