Authors: Candice Poarch
Deadly Intentions (5 page)
Brian was almost dizzy with fatigue. He'd never felt this weak before. He needed to rest.
Worry creased his brow. His SEAL team was his family. He loved his job. What if he couldn't go back? While he was in the hospital he was afraid to let the thought enter his mind. But now . . . Brian sighed deeply and took one last look at Lisa.
She was pretty. Lighter than milk chocolate, but not by much. She had expressive brown eyes. A cute mouth. He liked her snappy energy. If only . . . He couldn't keep his eyes open any longer.
Lisa glanced at Brian. His eyes were closed. He'd probably used the last of his energy to conduct the interviews when he should have been in bed at the motel sleeping.
Lord, she was going to have to keep him close for now. She couldn't leave him on his own. And she couldn't miss her own party. Not that she wanted to go.
She hated these events, where she was always the butt of family jokes. With her starting the new business, there was more fodder for the gossip. Some were even taking bets on how long it'd be before she folded. Certain that, as usual, she was going to make another mess of things. Lisa's hand tightened around the wheel. She was going to fool them this time.
She was twenty-eight today. Lisa couldn't believe it. Twenty-eight already.
“My family's giving me a birthday party. I'm gonna have to take you with me. You can just rest in a lounger. We won't stay long, but I have to show up.”
He didn't open his eyes when he said, “Drop me off at the motel.”
If only I could.
“There's no way I'm leaving you on your own. What if you fall or something?”
“There's no way I'm leaving you on your own. What if you fall or something?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I'm not leaving you alone,” Lisa said definitively.
He sighed. “I have to visit Harriet's family.”
“Like I already told you, you can call them tonight. Tomorrow's soon enough to visit. They're busy planning the funeral.”
“That's no excuse.”
“I'm sure they know you're injured,” Lisa said softly.
“Anybody ever tell you you're one bossy woman?”
Lisa ignored him. “I put your medicine in my purse. After you eat something, you need to take your happy pills.”
They boarded the ferry. Lisa let the window down to catch the breeze. She traveled the ferry so often she knew most of the deckhands. A couple of them waved to her and she waved back. Usually she got out to talk, but not this time.
Brian had finally fallen asleep, or at least she thought he had until he spoke.
“I'm not taking the pills. They muddle my thinking and I need to think this through.”
“You can think tomorrow.”
“You mind telling me where we're going?”
“To Paradise Island. That's where I live. My family always gets together for my birthday.”
“Happy birthday, Lisa.”
“I thought so before Mrs. Woolsley was killed.” She'd eagerly gone in to work that morning, thrilled that she was finally getting close to her grandmother's bowl. She never dreamed the day would go like this.
7
When they arrived at her grandparents' house at five, Naomi Claxton was in the kitchen taking the potato salad out of the fridge.
Lisa led Brian to a chair at the kitchen table, then said, “I'll get that for you, Grandma.”
Naomi glanced pointedly at Brian. “First you'll introduce me to this young man.”
“Oh, this is Brian. He just got back from Afghanistan. Brian, this is my grandmother and my favorite person in the world, Naomi Claxton.” Lisa hugged her grandmother, hoping she didn't catch the fact that Lisa had intentionally left out Brian's last name.
Using his cane to assist himself, Brian struggled to get up.
“Keep your seat, young man.” Her grandmother wore a long blue dress. Her salt-and-pepper hair, more white than black now, was down instead of tucked into the bun she usually wore.
“Afternoon, ma'am. Thank you for having me at your home,” Brian said.
“Any friend of Lisa's is always welcome. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Thank you, but I'm fine.”
“He needs to eat so he can take his medicine,” Lisa said.
“I don't have much of an appetite,” Brian said as he settled back.
“Everybody loves Grandma's food,” Lisa said.
“I'm sure you're a fine cook, ma'am. Sure smells good.” Obviously Brian didn't want to insult her grandmother.
“I'll fix you just a little something. Not much. But first, welcome home.” Mrs. Claxton placed a soothing arm around Brian's shoulder. She smelled of spices, as if she'd been in the kitchen all day. She offered the kind of comforting that was as foreign to Brian as home-baked pies and cookies fresh from the oven. And for some reason Brian didn't understand, the gesture rocked him straight to the gut.
“I know it's hard to eat when you're not feeling well.” Mrs. Claxton patted his hand and leaned back. Brian felt bereft, as if he were missing something vital.
“I'll take the potato salad out for you,” Lisa said.
“Let me get a little first. Why don't you fix Brian a glass of lemonade? Make sure you put plenty of ice in it.” She patted his hand again. “You just rest, young man.”
Brian felt absolutely miserable. Lisa should have taken him to the motel. He should have taken his pills. He was cold, an indication he had a temp. But he wouldn't have missed Mrs. Claxton's warm greeting for anything. She chattered as she worked. Brian hoped he wasn't expected to respond, because the soothing tone of her voice mesmerized him.
Seemed only seconds had passed when Mrs. Claxton returned with two plates. She set one in front of him and the other at the seating next to him. She pulled out a chair and sat, too, and let out a long sigh.
“You're just the excuse I need to sit. I've been standing all day.”
“The food looks delicious, ma'am.” Resolutely, Brian picked up the fork. He had no appetite. He just wanted to sleep. But he forked up a mouthful and the best food he'd ever tasted exploded on his tongue. “This is delicious.”
“Eat what you can.” Surprisingly, Brian ate everything on the plate. Lisa came back just in time to shove pills down his throat.
Brian knew he wouldn't be able to start an active search for Harriet Woolsley's killer until he gained his strength back. It was his job. He felt responsible. In a day or two he should be near the top of his game. Well, almost.
Mrs. Claxton went outside, leaving Lisa and Brian in the kitchen.
“Listen,” Lisa said urgently. “If no one brings up the murder at your grandfather's house, please don't mention it. I'm not telling anybody your last name so if they have heard about it, they won't connect you to it.”
“I'll be quiet as a church mouse, but it was a murder. The news will lead with the story.”
“But they won't mention my name. And nobody's listening to the news right now. They're on the deck eating and talking.”
Brian shook his head. “If your family doesn't find out tonight, they will by tomorrow.”
“I'll explain then,” Lisa told him.
“I don't understand why you want to keep it a secret.”
“My family is too protective. Just keep quiet about it, okay?”
Brian nodded, clearly confused about her secretiveness.
It was evening before Greg reached Justin. “Tell me what I want to hear. You have the bowl.”
“Not yet. It's going to take some time,” Justin said.
“You've had months.”
“Look, you brought me in on this deal at the last minute. You should have called me from the beginning. But I'm working on getting you that bowl in time for the party.”
“Give me the details,” Greg said.
“The less you know the better. Your brother wouldn't want you involved in this.”
“I'm handling this,” Greg insisted. “Not my brother. So talk.”
That little pip-squeak couldn't piss straight without his brother backing him. If Justin hadn't been desperate for the money this one last deal would bring him, he'd never have taken the job from him. This was his last job before he retired and moved on to something different, something safe. Greg was paying him a lot of money so it was worth the risk.
“We went there today, but the housekeeper was there,” Justin said.
“Didn't you check the place out first?”
“Of course I checked it out. She veered from her usual schedule.”
Greg sighed. “Tell me what happened.”
“She's dead.”
“Did you get the bowl?” he asked impatiently. The bowl was the issue here. The fact that he'd killed a woman to get it was insignificant.
“No.”
“When are you going back?”
“Soon. It's too hot right now. The grandson has moved in.”
“I contacted you because you stress that you can get the job done. Try harder.” Greg slammed the phone down. Everybody he'd sent after that bowl had ended up dead. Justin was his last resort. If he didn't know better, he'd think the damn thing was cursedâif he believed in that nonsense.
He'd hired the best. What was it about that damn bowlâabout the Claxton family that made that bowl impossible to grasp? It had moved from owner to owner and every time, something had happened.
Greg didn't believe in superstition. His brother had admired that bowl a couple of years ago when they attended the Founder's Day festival. Nicholas had done so much for him. It was time he repaid him with a special giftâif the incompetent fools ever got the job done.
Lisa left Brian sleeping on her grandmother's recliner in the den when she went outside. “How long do you think it'll be before she moves back in this time?” her uncle Cleve Claxton teased.
Her father shook his head and frowned. “Don't even say it. Every time she moves out she moves right back in. Even though she's gone, she's taken over half my garage.”
Everyone had a hearty laugh over that one. Lisa, the loser. Ha, ha, ha.
Lisa swallowed the lump in her throat. “Dad, I need space for my supplies.”
Her father grunted.
All her cousins had left home and never moved back. Her dad was right. Every time she saved enough and moved out, something happened and she found herself right back where she started. She promised herself this time she would succeed.
Famous last words. Lisa stifled an ironic chuckle. She'd said that every time she'd moved out.
“Just stop it right now,” Naomi said, and everybody clammed up. Nobody wanted to get on her bad side. She knew where all the skeletons were. “Lisa is already on her way. She's doing very well. I'm proud of her. She's doing her best. That's all you can ask of her. She's got talents we've yet to see.”
Thank God for grandparents.
“They're well hidden,” her uncle said with a chuckle as he flipped burgers and sausages on the grill. His wife plucked him upside the head.
“Ow.”
They were an odd couple. Her aunt, Miranda, was five-three to Uncle Cleve's six-five. But she didn't take any crap off him or her taller than ever sons. Their daughter, Alyssa, the town's only investigator in the sheriff's department, got her sass from her mother.
“I've heard enough out of you, Cleve. It's Lisa's birthday and we're celebrating it properly,” Naomi said, arching an eyebrow. “None of you were saints. If we're spilling stories I've got a few to tell.”
“Mom, that's ancient history,” Lisa's uncle said, glancing at his wife uneasily.
“Thank you, Grandma,” Lisa said with a smug look at her uncle as she approached her grandmother.
“Ah, she knows we're just fooling around. We love our little scatterbrain.” He grabbed Lisa in midstride and hugged her. Laughing, she pinched him in the side. She knew her family loved her, but she
was
tired of being the butt of jokes. She wanted to be taken as seriously as Alyssa and her other cousins. But with a past like hers what could she expect?
was
tired of being the butt of jokes. She wanted to be taken as seriously as Alyssa and her other cousins. But with a past like hers what could she expect?
With a squeeze, he let her go. “All right,” Cleve said. “Burgers up. The birthday girl gets first dibs.”
The mouthwatering aroma of burgers, fried fish, Grandma's out-of-this-world potato salad, macaroni and cheese tempted her. But Lisa had lost her appetite.
“Hey, baby.” Her grandmother eased into the chair beside her and threw an arm around her shoulders. “I cooked all this especially for you. Your young man ate an entire plate. You're going to have to tell me about him.”
“Thanks, Grandma. You've made this real special.” Lisa's greatest fear was letting her grandmother down like she did everyone elseâespecially herself. Naomi believed in her, no matter what she did.
“Don't worry about them, girl. You've already found your way. Don't let anyone undermine you. Even kinfolk. They don't realize how harmful careless words are.”
Lisa glanced at her hands. “In my case it's true.”
“You don't have to be perfect, you know. Just do your best. That's all anyone has a right to ask of you.” Naomi brushed the hair back from her forehead. “Do you really think any of us are perfect? We make our share of mistakes and move on. We don't labor over them or chastise ourselves for being human.”
Lisa felt like crying, but she nodded instead, the tears thick in her throat.
“Now, I've cooked this spread all for you. I haven't done this much cooking in a long time. Come on and enjoy it while your young man sleeps.”
Lisa started to tell her grandmother he wasn't her young man, but stopped herself. She didn't want to discuss the reason Brian was with her. It led to too many questions she'd be forced to answer.
“I'm glad you brought him with you. He seems nice, but strong, too.” She tapped Lisa's knee. “And I have a little surprise for you.”
Someone called Naomi and Lisa went to play a card game. She didn't play very long, though. When she went to get a drink, her mother pulled her aside.
“Enjoying yourself?”
“Yes,” Lisa said.
Her mother was the spitting image of Lisa's sister, Vanetta. She was cultured, always dressed tastefully to stand out, and always knew the right thing to say at the right time. Lisa inherited none of those characteristics.
Her father made no bones about the fact that she didn't inherit any of his wonderful qualities, either. She often wondered if the hospital put the wrong identification on her armâif maybe her mother had brought the wrong child home.
“I wanted to talk to you about something, dear,” her mother said. “You're what, twenty-eight today? Time really flies, doesn't it?”
“You had me, Mom. You should know.”
“Don't get cute,” she admonished. “Well, there's this nice young man who works with your father. He's moving up in the company. A real go-getter.”
“No.”
“You haven't even met him.”
“I know the kind of man you want for me and he'd bore me to death. Don't worry. I'm not rushing into anything now. I can't afford the trouble.”
Her mother sighed. “I'm not suggesting you stay single, honey. Just that since the others didn't work out as well as you would have liked, maybe it's time for a changeâa different type of man. We should learn from our mistakes, not continually repeat them. I'm not sure of the young man . . .”
“Mom. We're not dating and we aren't going to date. Brian's an acquaintance. That's all.”
“Well, then. Good thing your father invited his coworker to your birthday party.”
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