Authors: Candice Poarch
Deadly Intentions (2 page)
Lisa changed tactics. “I'm still your friend, Jackie. We can still do things together. Have some fun. But I'm not taking any more crap about my rich sister. When she's giving away her wardrobe, your hands reach out to grab anything you can get.”
“Fine. But she didn't give me a house.”
“She didn't give me one either. I have to pay a mortgage on that house every single month and you know it.”
“All right. Get offa your high horse. You're no saint, you know. I knew you before this big change.” Jackie waved her arms, the bags rustling with the movement.
“I'm not trying to be a saint, just me.”
Jackie rolled her eyes. “At least we know Magdelena was right. You have changed.”
Lisa sighed. “We never took psychics seriously before. It was something fun to do.”
“But this one is good, Lisa, the real deal. I trust Magdelena. You should, too.
“I told her all about you, about how you want to find the bowl for Grandma, but Jordan thinks he can hunt down the thief.”
“I told you that in confidence. I asked you to keep it to yourself,” Lisa said, stunned at Jackie's lack of good sense. “You keep family business in the family. I don't even want the family to know I'm searching for the bowl.”
“Magdelena wouldn't tell anybody. She's like a priest.”
Lisa glanced at her cousin skeptically.
“I told her how close we are and she wanted to meet you.” Jackie smiled. “You got a free reading, better than mine. I'll forgive you this time.”
Finally Jackie smiled and got in the car and Lisa followed suit. But there was one more subject that Lisa needed to mention. She started the motor.
“Don't tell anyone else I'm looking for the bowl,” Lisa warned her.
There were other things Lisa was doing that no one would understand any more than Jackie understood this. Would even disapprove of if they knew. But she knew better than to mention it to anyone, even her sister, who believed in her when no one else did. And her grandma. Lisa smiled. Grandma always believed in her. But this was her secret, one that would make Grandma proud of her.
2
Lisa dropped Jackie off, but she desperately needed a strong drink. She headed in the opposite direction from her house toward the bar.
There was something refreshing about being on the island. It was more laid back than Virginia Beach and Norfolk. Winter had wanted to hang on longer than usual this year. But spring was finally bursting forth.
Lisa was still shaken by the psychic's reading when she strolled into the bar a few minutes later. She spent a lot of time there. The place had always been her refuge when things were getting on her nerves, but tonight she had a purpose that had nothing to do with escape.
She slid into an empty booth and put her feet up in the opposite seat. If anyone had told her owning her own cleaning service was going to be this hard, she would have thought twice before starting it.
As it was, she was knee deep into itâand she couldn't fail. She'd failed at everything she'd ever done. She had to be a success at this one thing.
“Hey, baby.” Ben Storey, the bartender, slid into the seat across from her. His hip purposely bumped into her feet.
Lisa shifted her feet to the floor so she wasn't touching him. No sense in him getting ideas about her just because she'd asked for a little information.
“No need to move 'em, sugar.”
Ben was attractive. Skin like velvet bittersweet chocolate and dark brown eyes turned a lot of women's heads. Females gave him great tips, too. He wasn't tallâaround five foot eight. Only problem was his major ambition in life was chasing women. Was he the man the psychic referred to? Oh, heck no.
“You already know the score,” she said. She wasn't even marginally attracted to this ladies' man.
“I've got some news for you, baby. What's it worth?”
Lisa barely stopped an eye roll. “A drink.”
“Come on. You gotta get up offa more than that.”
“The drink is all I'm giving.” She was too broke to pay a bribe and he certainly wasn't getting anything else. “So if you want to keep your information to yourself, be my guest.”
Ben narrowed his gaze. “You've been trying to get this for months and you're telling me it don't matter anymore?” He slid out of the seat, leaned close to her ear. “Tell it to somebody who'll believe you.”
Lisa shrugged, motioned for the one waitress on duty. “Hey, can I get a martini?”
“You coming to the bar, Ben?” the waitress asked.
“Be right there,” he said, but didn't move. “Since when you been drinking this rich woman's drink?” he asked.
“Since now.”
Ben leaned over Lisa much too close for her comfort. “When you're ready to be reasonable come talk to me. I'll be here all evening.”
Ben was unaware of the reason Lisa wanted entrance to the Knight house. She often asked islanders for info on potential clients. As far as he was concerned, Mr. Knight was just another client. And of course a connection with Harriet Woolsley could prove beneficial since she managed several properties.
A couple minutes later, the waitress brought Lisa her drink. She took her time sipping on it while she relaxed. The jukebox played in the corner. Every few minutes, somebody went over to feed it quarters.
Several guys came over to ask her to dance. Lisa was well known for loving to dance. She'd ordered hot wings and another drink before Ben returned.
“What's up with you?” he asked, sitting again. His expression was stern. Lisa's feet were on the floor this time.
Sensing his pique, Lisa offered him a strained smile. “Nothing's going on with me.”
“You know I've been trying to hook up with you for a long time. Why're you giving me the runaround?”
“And you know I'm single right now and don't plan on changing any time soon. Men only screw up your life.”
“Girl, you women sure are hard on a man.” His anger diffused as quickly as it had come. He slid a ragged yellow Post-it next to her wings. “I'm giving this to you because I'm gonna be waiting for when you decide men aren't so bad, after all. Everybody knows you can't go but so long without us.”
Lisa scanned the page. “Don't hold your breath.”
“This number is for a woman people hire to keep an eye on their summer properties . . . she's looking for someone to clean the place now that the old man's grandson is going to be staying there a while. The guy was injured in Afghanistan. A friend of mine put in a good word for you.” He tapped the paper. “She can see you tomorrow morning. Call her if you can't make it.”
Lisa barely contained her excitement. She didn't like the idea of a grandson living there, but she was finally making progress. She had a legitimate excuse for being in the Knight house. “Thanks, Ben.” She dug into her purse for the money for his drink.
“Keep your money,” he said. “If you play your cards right, she might hire you to clean some of the other properties, too.”
Lisa nodded. “Let me get you a drink.”
But Ben shook his head.
She slid him a skeptical glance. “Ben, I'm not offering anything else.”
“You made that clear enough. I've known you too long to hold out on you.” Standing, he shook his head. “I must be out of my damn mind.” He turned to leave, then looked back to Lisa. He took the seat across from her again and leaned close.
“Lisa, I know you think I don't have any ambitions, but I do. My uncle left me a little money. I've saved it and hope to buy this bar one day or open one of my own. I've got something to offer a woman. I'm not in a dead end job. I'm thinking about business just like you. We could grow our businesses together.”
Lisa touched Ben's hand. “I'm not a snob. Your job has nothing to do with my decision. I told you the truth. Every time something good comes into my life, I start a relationship with some guy and everything gets messed up. I can't afford for that to happen again. This is my chance and I'm not screwing this up,” she said, hoping he'd understand. She didn't want to tell him there were no vibes between them. Even if she hadn't started on this new venture, she wouldn't date him. “I hope you're successful with your business. I really do. But leave me out of it.”
“For now.”
“I'm serious.”
“I hope you're successful tomorrow.”
Lisa smiled and bit her lip. She glanced at the note. Ben's friend had set up an appointment with Mrs. Woolsley at ten. Ben had come through for her. She glanced at him as he made his way behind the bar. The way Ben chased women, Lisa was sure he'd soon move on to someone else.
She sipped her drink. He'd bring a woman nothing but heartache. And Lisa had already had a lifetime of heartaches.
3
Two days later Navy SEAL Brian Knight was ready to check out of the hospital in Portsmouth. Although he ached all over, his willpower was stronger than his miserable condition. He waited and waited for his grandfather's housekeeper to pick him up from the hospital. Even tried to call her several times. She was definitely a no-show. He finally called a cab.
There were other options, but he wanted to be alone to sleep the next twenty hours without somebody poking at him, taking his blood, nagging him to take enough medication to muddle his thoughts. Maybe in a day or so he'd feel something approaching half normal again. Normal was going to take longer.
At least he was in America. Not in a war zone. Compared to that, everything else was manageable.
When the cab arrived, he eased into the backseat.
“Where to?” the man asked.
Brian gave him the address to his grandfather's house in Virginia Beach. It wasn't far. He settled back in the seat and watched the familiar terrain. There was something refreshing about the ocean air. He loved this area.
“You just back from the war?” the cabbie asked, peering through his rearview mirror.
“Yes.” Brian made his response short. He didn't want to talk.
The cabbie didn't take the hint. “Your honey waiting for you?”
“No,” Brian said, and thought,
Only the housekeeper
. Pitiful. His friends had wives and girlfriends. And he had his grandfather's housekeeper.
Only the housekeeper
. Pitiful. His friends had wives and girlfriends. And he had his grandfather's housekeeper.
“No?” the man asked, peering in the mirror again. “Be glad to set you up. Man fight a war, he's entitled to a reward afterward. Just say the word.”
“I've got it covered.” He could imagine his grandfather's neighbors gossiping about hookers trotting to his door.
The guy smiled. “All right then.”
Sighing, Brian rolled his window down to smell the salty air, the blooming flowers. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes to rest a few moments, but much too soon the cabbie said, “We're here, sir. I'll get your bag.”
Brian dug into his pocket for the fare. “Just toss it on the step,” he said. “I can handle it from there.”
“I don't mind taking it inside, especially for a soldier. You're one of the lucky ones.”
“Yeah.” If he considered the bullet hole in his leg and a few stab wounds lucky. At least he was alive. And this was the closest thing he had to a home. He felt deep regret for the ones who wouldn't be returning to loved ones. Sometimes he wondered why he was still here. Nobody depended on him. And no one would really miss him.
Brian sighed. At least everyone else on his team was fine. A few minor scrapes, but otherwise healthy. He got the worst of it.
As Brian climbed out of the cab he thought it was time he bought his own cottage. Something smaller, of course, but on the beach. A cozy place where he could display the things he'd collected from around the world.
He saw a young woman go into his grandfather's house.
Must be her zippy little Honda parked out front,
he thought.
Must be her zippy little Honda parked out front,
he thought.
After placing his luggage on the front porch, the cabbie stayed at the curb, obviously making sure Brian got inside without falling flat on his face.
Brian was worried about Harriet. Her car was in the driveway, in front of the other one. Maybe she just forgot. But she hadn't answered the phone. Hastily he dug the key out of his pocket. It wasn't like her to forget about something that important. True, she was getting up in years, but he'd been away for a year and she'd visited him in the hospital. She'd been looking forward to having someone to cook for. And the extra pay she'd get for working there.
Just as he got the key in the lock and turned it, he heard a loud scream, a crash, then feet pounding toward the door. As he opened it a woman fell out, straight into his arms, and screamed as if the devil was chasing her. Suddenly, realizing he was blocking her path, she began to attack him.
“Hey, lady. You can't do that,” the cabbie hollered as he ran toward them across the lawn. “He's hurt. Can't you see that?”
Fright had taken her to another world.
Brian grabbed her flailing arms and shook her, then smacked her to get her attention. “What's going on?”
Her mouth moved but words eluded her. Only her screams pierced his eardrums. “In . . . in there . . .” She finally pointed, her hand shaking.
“Anybody in there?”
“She's dead! Oh my God. She's dead. The kitchen . . .”
Brian didn't need to ask who.
“Anybody else in there?”
“No, my . . . I don't know,” the woman stammered.
Brian quickly moved her to the side and cautiously went inside.
“Stay with her,” he told the cabbie.
“I got your back, man.”
“Stay with her,” he repeated.
Inside he listened for movement but found silence. Nothing in the hall, the living room or dining room. Then he moved to the kitchen, rushed across the room, seeing nothing, no one. He glanced out a side window, then a window facing the back of the house....
Harriet was lying on the back deck in a pool of blood.
Brian dialed the police and reported the incident. Then he glanced around searching for clues. Judging by the bullet hole, he guessed Harriet had been shot with a .45. No bullet casings. “This wasn't done by an amateur,” he murmured, continuing to glance around. The paintings were still on the walls. TV, computer, and stereo. Even an iPod his grandfather never used. Items thieves fenced.
What were they looking for? Did they find it? Had Harriet interrupted them? Her body was still warm. Brian estimated it happened within the last hour.
He briefly looked through the rest of the house. No broken windows. Had she let her killer into the house? Did she know him? Nothing obvious was stolen.
He returned to the deck. There was a card on the floor near the back door. He picked it up by the edge. Ocean Wave Motel. He placed it back on the floor.
Finally he heard sirens. By the time the police arrived, he was standing on the front steps. He glanced at the cleaning woman. She was near her car pacing and smoking a cigarette.
He had to keep her here long enough to have a talk with her. Brian made his way down the steep steps toward her.
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