Eye of the Beholder (14 page)

E
llen Jones stood in the living room with Investigator Backus and Officer Rutgers, disheartened by the destruction. The oil painting of Seaport Beach that once hung over the couch now lay slashed on the floor amidst broken lamps, piles of books, and couch cushions and throw pillows that had been cut open and the stuffing pulled out.

She put her hand on the back of her neck and rubbed, vaguely aware of officers bagging evidence and snapping pictures.

Backus rubbed his nose and resumed his annoying tapping the clipboard with his pencil. “Anyone who’d tear your house apart this way either has a grudge or is after something.”

“After what? We’re not hiding anything. Nothing valuable was taken.”

“Is it possible someone could have a grudge against you or your husband?”

“I can’t imagine. We get along with—” Ellen’s heart sank. “Oh, wait … the intruder.”

“Excuse me?”

“My husband surprised an intruder at his Tallahassee apartment yesterday morning. The man ran off before Guy got a look at him.”

Backus rolled his eyes. “And you’re just now telling me?”

“I’m sorry. My mind’s in a fog.” Ellen put her hands to her temples. “Nothing was missing and the police there think it was a thief working the neighborhood.”

“So your husband filed a report?”

Ellen nodded.

“Okay, I’ll get a copy of it. Maybe there’s a connection. Anyone else who might have a beef with either of you?”

“I don’t think so. Well, maybe. Guy just won a big toxic chemical case for Brinkmont Labs.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Some aspiring young litigator convinced the residents of Marble River to sue Brinkmont for allegedly polluting the river and making them sick. Guy presented overwhelming evidence that Brinkmont was operating within EPA guidelines. The jury agreed with him.”

“I’ll bet that ticked off a few folks.”

“Yes, I suppose it did. But enough to do this?”

Backus’s bushy eyebrows joined in the middle. “Well,
somebody
tore into this place with a vengeance.”

Guy Jones sat in his office reading a contract for a new client, aware that Kinsey seemed distant and brooding. He noticed she was on the phone and then heard her voice on the intercom.

“Guy, Ellen’s on line one.”

“Thanks.” He picked up the receiver and pushed the blinking light. “Hi, honey. What’s up?”

“The house was broken into. It’s a mess. Actually, worse than a mess. Everything that could be cut up
was
—cushions, mattresses, pillows. Things pulled out of cupboards, lamps smashed …”

“Are you all right?”

Ellen sniffled. “Hardly. But I’m not hurt. I wasn’t home when it happened.”

“When
did
it happen? I thought you were in for the day.”

“I planned to be, but I ran into Mina when I was out running this morning and she invited me to lunch. She was just trying to thank me for being a friend.” Ellen blew her nose. “I was at
Gordy’s when you called. I got home at 1:20 and found the mess.”

“Did you call the police?”

“Yes, they’re still here, gathering evidence and taking pictures.”

“You can’t stay there tonight.”

“I know. I’m going over to Owen and Hailey’s. I’ll notify the insurance company and find out what we should do about repairs.”

“Hold the line a minute.” Guy got up and closed the door. “Are you ever going to listen to me? How could you have lunch with Mina when her husband’s name is all over the news? That’s what this is about, Ellen! Somebody’s trying to send you a message!”

“That’s ridiculous. Who even knows Mina and I are friends? I don’t think I’ve ever been seen in public with her except to go jogging. I told the FBI the same—”

“You talked to the FBI?”

“Yes, they came by the house yesterday. But before you get mad, the reason I didn’t tell you last night on the phone was because it would’ve spoiled our truce. It was so nice not to argue.”

Guy exhaled as loudly as he could. “What’d the feds want?”

“They asked me general questions about the Tehranis. I told them what I knew. That was it. Did I mention Ali helped the FBI find his nephew?”

“I don’t care about Ali! What did the police have to say about the break-in?”

“Will you please lower your voice? Since nothing’s missing, they think someone may be angry with one of us. Investigator Backus’s antenna went up when he found out you won the Brinkmont case and thinks maybe someone has a grudge against you. It’s not at all far-fetched. And it could explain yesterday’s intruder at your apartment.”

Guy paused, his mind racing in reverse. The last thing he needed was the police thinking the two break-ins were connected and asking questions he wasn’t prepared to answer.

“There’s no connection, Ellen. I told you it was just a thief working the area.”

“Then why didn’t he take something?”

“Because I scared him off.”

“Well, Investigator Backus is getting a copy of the report you filed with the Tallahassee police. He’s interested in pursuing the angle that someone on the losing side of the Brinkmont case is letting you know he’s angry. You could be in danger! You can’t just blow this off.”

“Did you even bother to tell Investigator Backus about your friendship with the Tehranis?”

“Frankly, it never entered my mind. It’s preposterous to think someone would act out this kind of anger simply because I’ve been jogging with Mina and have been to their house a few times.”

Ellen walked into the guest bedroom at her son and daughter-in-law’s house, Owen on her heels.

“Here you go, Mom,” he said, setting her suitcase on the bed. “I’m sorry about your house, but you’re welcome to stay with us as long as you want.”

Ellen put her arms around him. “Thanks. I’ll try not to be a pest.”

“Dad sounded rattled when he called. Wanna bet he comes home early?”

“I hope so. I know Investigator Backus is anxious to question him about the details of the Brinkmont case. The more I think about it, the more sense it makes.” Ellen looked into her son’s eyes and saw her own fear staring back. “You saw the house. Anyone with that kind of anger might be capable of anything.”

Owen’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked just like his father. “It might not have anything to do with the Brinkmont case. Dad thinks—”

“I
know
what your dad thinks, and he’s wrong.”

“Mom, Dr. Tehrani’s name has been in the news. Everyone knows he’s been questioned by the FBI about that boat of explosives and those five terrorists. He’s evoked a lot of suspicion. Who’s to say some local yokel isn’t trying to scare you into backing off?”

“Backing off what, Owen—jogging with a neighbor?”

“People can get really weird about anyone from the Middle East. It’s hard to know who you can trust these days.”

“Not for me, it isn’t. Mina and Ali are wonderful people, and I refuse to make excuses for liking them—or be intimidated into snubbing them.”

“Do you have any idea how much strain this is causing your marriage?”

Ellen held her son’s gaze. “Since I live with your father, I’m sure I do.”

“Mom, look, I know it’s not really my place to say anything, but in a way it is—I love you and Dad. I’m scared you’re going to let your stubborn attachment to your friends come between you two.”

Ellen paused and blinked rapidly until her eyes cleared. “There’s more to it than that. I have to be true to who I am.”

“Dad wants you to be somebody you’re not?”

“Actually it seems as though your dad has lost who
he
is.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ellen sat on the bed, her fingers rubbing the raised pattern on the quilt. “It means your dad and I have some work to do. You and Hailey can help by staying neutral. And by praying for us. Your father and I are devoted to each other. Don’t ever forget that, Owen. We
will
get through this bump in the road. But you have to let us go through the wounding and not feel responsible to fix us.”

A door slammed and seconds later Hailey breezed through the doorway. “I got Owen’s message and rushed right home. How awful!” She put her arms around Ellen. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me too, honey. Thank the Lord it was only material things that were destroyed. It could have been so much worse.”

Guy got out of his car and walked toward his apartment, his mind racing with images of the mess that awaited him at the house and the loose ends here he didn’t have time to tie up before heading back to Seaport.

He was confident that Kinsey could handle most of it, though she had turned ashen after Ellen’s phone call and seemed more shaken than he was.

Guy put the key in the lock and turned it, then pushed open the door and stepped inside.
What the …?

His skin was suddenly goose flesh and his shoes felt as though they were nailed to the floor. His eyes darted around the room, assessing the wall-to-wall devastation and feeling as though he were seeing a repeat of what Ellen described in her phone call—couch cushions slashed, lamps broken, books strewn across the floor. He listened carefully for half a minute for any sound, but all he heard was the wild thumping of his heart.

Then he spotted it—something on the dining room mirror. Big letters printed in what appeared to be red lipstick. He shut the front door to cut the glare, and willed his feet to move across the living room carpet until he stood in front of his reflection and read the words that seemed almost suspended across his chest:

You’re a dead man!

 14
 

G
uy Jones stood leaning on the doorway of his apartment, weak-kneed, and waiting for the police. He took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed.

“McAllister, Norton, Riley, and Jones. How may I direct your call?”

“This is Guy. Is Kinsey still there?”

“Yes, sir. One moment.”

Guy breathed in slowly and then let it out, and then did it again. His heart was racing so fast he felt short of breath.

“Kinsey Abbot.”

“It’s Guy. My apartment’s been ransacked, torn to shreds! Someone wrote, ‘You’re a dead man’ on the dining room mirror! The police are on their way over here. I’m going to have to tell them about the cocaine. Kinsey …? Are you still there …?”

“I’m here. I—I’m just overwhelmed.”

“The police investigator that Ellen talked to thinks this reeks of someone having a grudge—maybe one of the disgruntled plaintiffs in the Brinkmont case. If that’s true, you could be in danger, too. I don’t think you should go home by yourself until we find out more and the police have checked out your place.”

“What do you think I should do?”

“Tell Brent what’s going on, and then get over here and talk to the police with me. If there’s a connection to the case, maybe between the two of us, we can figure it out.”

“It doesn’t seem plausible that all three incidents are connected. The police seemed sure the first break-in was just a
burglary. Why bring up the cocaine? It has nothing to do with the Brinkmont case.”

“You don’t know that. What if someone planted it there and was trying to set me up.”

“Do you really want to have to explain why you held on to it?”

Guy looked up and saw the flashing lights of a squad car. “The police are here. Listen, I think we
have
to tell them everything. Not to do so could put either or both of us at risk. I can’t take that chance.”

“All right. I’ll tell Brent what’s going on and get over there as soon as I can.”

Ellen sat on the screened-in porch at Owen and Hailey’s house, the afternoon sun filtering through a stand of pines, and listened to the clear, melodious song of a cardinal perched on the wrought iron gate.

She closed her eyes and breathed in the unmistakable scent of pine, and for a moment was a girl again, curled up in her grandmother’s porch swing reading
Anne of Green Gables
.

She heard footsteps and opened her eyes in time to see Owen sit next to her on the wicker couch, his feet flat on the floor, his hands clasped between his knees.

“What’s wrong?”

“Dad’s apartment was broken into again. This time it looks about like the house.”