Island of Deceit (12 page)

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Authors: Candice Poarch

BOOK: Island of Deceit
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Tears ran down Barbara's face. She knew Dorsey wouldn't want her dwelling on grief this way, but she couldn't help it. The tears wouldn't stop rolling.

When she calmed down, she thought Dorsey would like Harper. Besides, what was wrong with her deriving some pleasure for a change?

Barbara took in a deep breath. Dating after a long absence was like rowing upstream. You never forgot. Or like diving into a cold ocean. Dip your toe first to test the temperature before you dove in.

If only it were that easy.

 

Harper glanced up when John strolled into the office. He was wearing a blazer over his jeans.

“Just came back from interviewing Ben.”

“What did he have to say?”

“According to him, he broke off the relationship. He's been sniffing after Lisa Claxton and thought he could get something going with her. I know he's had a crush on her for a long time.”

“Did he start a relationship with Lisa?”

“She wouldn't give him the time of day,” John said, sinking into a chair across the desk.

“What's your gut instinct?”

“Ben's telling the truth.”

Harper nodded. He'd never thought Ben was a viable candidate. But now they'd come up against a dead end.

“The old boyfriend from Norfolk could have come here to kill her. That rental cottage is rarely rented out this time of year.”

“It's possible,” Harper mused.

“Was there a connection between Sarah and Andrew?”

“Why don't you check it out?” Harper flipped through the folder. “I ran a check on the Stone family. There are no speeding tickets, parking tickets, no professional licenses. Nothing.”

“Not one ticket among the three of them? Not even a speeding ticket?”

Harper shook his head. “Nope.”

“That's strange. Most teens get a few. At least one or two. You gave Alyssa a few.”

“I haven't forgotten,” Harper said. “She was worse than her brothers.”

“You could have given her a break,” John said, chuckling.

“I did, but she showed no compunction to improve. She was a spoiled brat.” But Harper admired the fact that Alyssa was a hard worker and didn't take crap from anyone.

“She wouldn't agree. She always says you ticketed her for spite.”

Unrepentant, Harper nodded. “Especially after she told me I was just filling my quota.”

John chuckled again. “She still gets pissed every time she talks about it. Her mother took her car away for an entire month. She could get away with murder with her dad, but not her mom. And she made her use her allowance to pay for them.”

“Her mama was a smart woman.”

John shook his head.

“I didn't have to worry about her speeding after that, did I?” Harper asked, sliding his chair back. “I have a feeling we're missing something big on this case. The islanders are getting nervous and I don't like it. I just haven't put my finger on it yet, but stay on the Stones. Andrew hit Barbara. This can't be the first time he's hit a woman, yet he's never been arrested.”

“His record is too clean,” John agreed, walking to the door with Harper. “You got all decked out. Got a hot date or something?”

Harper ignored him and opened the door.

“With Barbara?”

“None of your business.”

“You're allowed to date, you know. All the women want to save you from yourself. You don't have to be so secretive about it. It's all over town anyway that you kissed her at the B and B.”

Harper groaned. “It's impossible to keep any secrets here.”

“Especially when you have me to tell all.”

“Not if I fire you.”

“My lips are sealed. She seems like a nice lady. I just can't understand why she didn't want Andrew arrested.”

“Leave it alone, John. Only Barbara knows her reasons. And we've got bigger fish to fry.”

He reached his car.

“Enjoy your date. Tell Barbara I said hi. And for God's sake, don't be cheap. Take a gift.”

“Got that covered. You think you're dealing with a kid or something?”

“I know how your head gets wrapped up in a case and you forget the world around you.”

 

Sam Lyon's gardening shop was closed, but Harper caught him at home. And since Sam's greenhouse was at his house, he made up a flower arrangement.

“I really appreciate this, man.”

Sam rarely smiled, but Harper thought he saw a glimmer in his eyes. “John called. I was expecting you.”

Harper smothered a groan. “Guess this is going to be all over the island.”

“Guess so.” Sam was dating Alyssa's cousin, who was working on her master's in nursing.

“Set that wedding date yet?”

“Regina wants to wait until she gets her degree.”

“When will that happen?”

“May.”

Sam was a guy of few words. But he worked quickly and Harper was soon headed to Barbara's place. First, he had to run by home for the wine he left chilling in the fridge. Women liked nice things. He had to do this right.

He pulled into her driveway at five. She must have had the fan on because the aroma from the food had drifted outside, making him remember he hadn't eaten anything since lunch.

Harper stood at his car, scanning the area. Barbara was pretty isolated out here. Her house was on the ocean side. So was his, and boats could pull up at night without her knowing. He wondered if that had happened with Sarah. Could someone have stopped the boat at the marsh and dumped her body? Was it someone she knew or some crazy serial killer like Stanley Kingsley? It wasn't unheard of. But this place was too small to have two serial killers in a year terrorizing the area. His better judgment told him Sarah's killing was deliberate, not some serial killer. It was up to his department to determine the motive and opportunity.

He climbed the stairs to the front door.

Barbara wore a flowing peach dress that extended to the floor. He could barely see the outline of her generous curves. It had a scooped neckline that ended at the top of her breasts, tantalizing him. Her smile nearly undid him. He forgot he had the flowers.

“You're just in time,” she said.

He finally remembered he was holding flowers and wine. He extended his arms. “For you.”

“Opus II.” Any kind of Opus wine was expensive. They only produced two wines each year.

“What are we celebrating?” she asked, and moved aside for him to enter.

“The fact that I finally have a date with you. And a home-cooked meal.” He leaned down and kissed her lightly, but she pulled back a bit.

He was moving things too quickly for Barbara's comfort.

“Something smells wonderful,” he said.

“It's almost done.” She smiled even prettier. “Thank you. I'll put the flowers in a vase. They'll make a nice centerpiece.”

“Why don't I open this for you so we can enjoy a glass with dinner? I had it sitting on ice so it's the right temperature.”

“Perfect.”

He followed her into the kitchen. Food was on the stove. While he opened the wine, she dished the food onto platters.

“Looks like you've been cooking all day.”

“Not quite. So how was your day?”

“Busy. I had a speaking engagement at church.”

Barbara paused. So that was the reason he was dressed in his suit. “Why didn't you tell me?”

He shrugged. “Half of my job is public relations.”

Barbara debated candlelight, but she loved to cook and entertain, and she saw no reason to change her ways because she was having dinner with a handsome, charming, totally irresistible man. She placed the flowers between the candles. When she looked up, Harper regarded her closely.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“You've been crying.”

She offered him a wry smile. “I thought I erased the traces.”

He approached her. “What's wrong, honey?”

“I was just thinking of my grandmother.”

“Come here, baby. Why didn't you call me? Why did you suffer in silence?” he asked, regarding her a moment before he pulled her tightly into his arms. Barbara felt like crying again, but she contained her emotions. She didn't feel quite alone anymore either and that was good. Sighing, she inhaled a light whiff of his soap but mostly the unique essence of him. His heart beat comfortably against her chest.

His lips brushed across her forehead, yet there was nothing remotely intimate about the contact, merely a human connection from a caring soul. Barbara liked that.

The timer dinged and Barbara leaned back enough to meet his gaze. It was then she realized her hand was on his chest.

“Thank you,” she said. “I better get that.”

“Anytime, babe.”

He followed her to the kitchen and put the wine within easy reach. She put a dish of scallops on the counter before she sipped hers.

“Are you hungry, or would you like to relax for a while?” she asked.

Harper wanted to choose relaxing, but he was hungry. His pause was so long Barbara glanced at him with a smile.

“Why don't we eat now and relax later,” she murmured.

“Sounds like a winner. Can I help with anything?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Just keep me company.”

“I've got that covered.” He leaned against the counter and watched her, the aroma of various flavors wafting around him. It was a roomy, immaculate kitchen with wooden floors, granite countertops, cherry cabinets, and stainless-steel appliances. The window shelf over the sink held several pots of herbs, and beyond was the fading view of the ocean, a few lights twinkling from boats. It all seemed designed to lull stress away.

“Your place is beautiful,” he said.

“My grandmother and I planned the renovations together.”

Harper didn't want to make her sad again. It was obvious her grandmother's loss was still fresh.

The image Barbara presented to the world was a self-contained woman, warm, but she kept a part of herself isolated. Had he not come at the right time, he would never have known how upset she was.

Harper sipped his wine and studied this woman who fascinated him.

 

Sonya placed the money back into the pillowcase. “This isn't all of it,” she told Boyd. “Only half.” Their housemates spent the day in Virginia Beach and hadn't returned, so they had the place to themselves.

“You think they spent the rest already?”

She shook her head. “Elliot's hiding it somewhere else. But I know it's in the house. He's such a control freak, he's not going to take it to a bank.”

“You had a hard enough time getting in there the first time. It's going to be impossible to get in there again. He's going to be guarding that place something fierce.”

Sonya looked smug. “There's always a way.”

“I hope we get this over with quickly. I have to get back home, soon.”

“How soon?”

“I can wait a few weeks. I've already made my excuses for Thanksgiving.”

“If I know Elliot, things will be wrapped up by then.” She wouldn't care if Boyd did go back to New York. Sometimes she wished she hadn't hooked up with him.

They met when she tried to run a con on his uncle and Boyd caught her at her game. He told her he knew someone vulnerable with a lot of money, only he wanted to work with her. That he really liked her and they could work well together—as a couple.

Okay, the sex was good. Boyd knew his way around a woman's body. But she'd always worked solo. She'd hooked up with Andrew because of the trust fund. Only she had to get him away from Elliot to take advantage of it. And she needed enough money to last the five years until that trust fund was available to him.

“It's our turn to help out in the dining room,” Sonya said. They shared communal meals at the artist colony. Everybody had chores.

“I went fishing today,” Boyd said. “I caught the food. I'm not cooking it, too.”

No way was Sonya leaving her money in Boyd's reach. He could jump up and leave at any time. “I worked last night. Besides, you didn't fish
all
day long.” She sidled up to him, slid her body over his. She immediately felt the response of his erection. “We're supposed to be madly in love. Would a man in love leave his wife for even fifteen minutes?” She unzipped his pants.

“Depends,” Boyd said, his voice strangled.

Sonya licked his lips. “On what?”

“How good the wife is to me.”

Sonya smothered a groan. He was so tired. “I'm better than good, baby.” She turned on the music and started out with a slow strip, teasingly revealing her body with dancing steps until she was completely undressed. Then she undressed him, kissing him as she did so, driving him insane with need. Nobody could say she didn't know how to please a man. By the time she'd shed his briefs, he was begging for mercy.

“Not quite yet, baby. This is just the appetizer.”

She proceeded to show him just how good she was.

A half hour later, Boyd left the cottage with her. Sonya would send him out later on some ridiculous errand and get her money to her pre-appointed hiding place. She'd worked too damn hard to let it get away from her.

C
HAPTER
7

Elliot got Minerva to make her pineapple cake and take it to the Claxtons to thank them for offering them refuge when they were robbed. A good thing, too, because Naomi invited them to dinner and they were happy to accept.

Elliot selected one of his expensive bottles of wine. He hated to give it up, but if they got that bowl, it was worth it.

“Everything smells wonderful,” he said as they sat.

“I'm glad you could join us,” Naomi said. “It's just everyday stuff.”

Minerva smiled like she was supposed to. “You've been such good neighbors. We're lucky to move next door to kind people.”

Elliot could tell Naomi was melting already. He barely tasted the food as he suffered through small talk. They were on dessert before he broached the topic.

“I hear your family's been here hundreds of years,” he said.

“Nearly four hundred to be exact.”

“No kidding.”

She started to tell the tale of how her female ancestor got kidnapped by pirates and then shipwrecked. And how the women poisoned the pirates and escaped to the island. It was a fascinating tale.

“How on earth did they make it? Women all alone? No provisions?”

“Oh, they had the stolen spices, cloths, and things the pirates had looted. Even a golden bowl, bullion, and coins.”

He suffered through another tale of how fishermen came the next year and the women soon married. But Elliot was interested only in the goods.

“So they traded all those things for tobacco and supplies?” he asked.

“Some of it. The bowl, some bullion, and coins are still in the family, except some of it was stolen a while back.”

“Stolen?” Minerva said.

“We're still trying to track it down.”

“Any idea who stole it?”

“I don't have a clue. But my granddaughter Alyssa is working on it.”

“She'll find it eventually,” Hoyt Claxton, Naomi's husband, said.

“I hope you find it. To have it in the family for so many years and to lose it is just awful,” Minerva said.

“Her sister, Anna, put it away somewhere, and when she died no one could find it. That's another explanation,” Hoyt added.

“It's stolen. If it wasn't, we would have found it,” Naomi insisted.

Elliot suffered through another half hour before he and Minerva could leave. So maybe the bowl wasn't stolen. But he was going to check into it anyway. As soon as he got home, he called Mouse.

“Got another job for you,” Elliot said and explained what he wanted.

“Got a few contacts on the island. I'll see what I can find out,” Mouse said. “Do I need to remind you of my ten percent finder's fee on the selling price?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Elliot said. “Just find it.”

 

While Elliot was talking to Mouse, Andrew was at a bar in Norfolk. He was depressed about the way his dad was treating him. He decided to call Sonya. His dad thought he had no sense, but he knew where his woman was. Sonya wouldn't betray him. She was always nice to him. He wished he could be with her right now.

He hoped she answered.

“Hey, baby,” she answered, and Andrew felt better just hearing her voice.

“What's all that noise in back?”

“Give me a minute.”

He could hear her moving around. A door squeaked open and closed, and there was silence.

“We were having dinner. His family is having a party. They're a loud group.”

“How is it there?”

“Hot. I'm going to take a dip later on just to cool off.”

Andrew frowned. “They got air conditioning, don't they?”

“Sure they do, but I like having my windows open to catch a breeze. Anyway, since they have a pool, I'm taking advantage of it.”

“I miss you, baby.”

“You know I miss you, too. I'm waiting for the time your daddy lets us stay together. I hate when he sends me away from you. How're you holding up?”

“Not too good. Broke my arm.”

“Poor thing. How did that happen?”

“Fell. Daddy's counting on you to bring in a good amount. Somebody robbed half the money we had.”

“After all that work?” Sonya sounded as outraged as Andrew felt. “How could he let that happen? I thought he was so smart?”

“He's got some new plan to make up the difference. There's this golden bowl missing. Old as dirt. From a few hundred years ago. Daddy's got some man looking for it.” He went into detail about the bowl.

“I hope your daddy finds that bowl 'cause we need that money.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

“Honey, I wish I could talk longer, but I better get back to the party. I'll call you later on, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. I love you, Sonya.”

“Love you, too, baby.” She gave him those kisses through the phone and he smiled. “I'm gonna take good care of you when I see you again. And, baby, you know I can.”

Andrew felt himself growing hard. Nobody made him feel as good as Sonya. He felt a whole lot better when he hung up. The only reason he went out with Barbara in the first place was because of his dad. She started coming on to him, and his dad told him he had to go out with her. Anybody who retired at forty-five had to have some money somewhere.

Andrew looked at his cast. And look how that turned out. His dad thought he knew everything, but there was a lot he didn't know. Sonya was a good woman. She loved him.

“You gone play or look at the wall all night?” the guy said, racking up the balls for another game of pool.

“One more game and I'm outta here. Lemme get a drink first.” As he went to the bar he was still smiling about Sonya.

 

Sonya was thinking about the golden bowl. She was going to have to dig up some information.

“What're you doing out here?” Boyd asked.

Sonya clutched her chest. “You're going to get hurt coming up on me like that.”

“Why are you out here?”

“Andrew called. He missed me.”

He grabbed her around the waist, then nuzzled her neck. “You don't belong to him anymore. You're mine.” His kiss was long and slow. “All mine.”

In your dreams, buddy.
No man owned her, and he was going to find out just how much she was her own person before too long.

“You know I am, sweetie.”

 

Trent drove slowly around the island and noticed the sheriff's car parked in Barbara's yard. If Barbara had been dating Andrew for a while and she followed him all the way to Paradise Island, why had she broken the guy's arm and held him for the sheriff? Something didn't add up.

Most of all, who broke into the Stones' home? Someone had to be watching them. Someone was there most of the time, which was why he hadn't broken in yet. Was someone else tracking them? Trent didn't like too many oars in the water, not when it hampered his plans.

Was Barbara putting on an act? Was she dating the sheriff to keep him away from the Stones? Using sex to keep him off balance? Spreading her stuff around, was she?

Trent shook his head. A woman could turn a man's head. It was a lesson he'd learned years ago, never to mix business with pleasure. The sheriff was old enough to know better. It wasn't that Barbara was that much of a honey for the man to lose his head over. But then, the sheriff was old, too. He'd probably go after whatever he could get. To each his own. Heck, he remembered another old saying: “There's no fool like an old fool.”

Barbara had some redeeming factors. He was sure she was a good cook. And the sheriff looked like he enjoyed good food. Today, many sistas couldn't cook and others wouldn't. Maybe food was the sheriff's inducement.

Maybe he had something on the side for an arm piece. Not on the island, though, or else the sheriff would be the one walking around with the broken arm. Barbara didn't take crap. And she could certainly handle herself. She'd put the sheriff in his place the other night.

Trent didn't like the idea of having to cross Barbara. He hoped it didn't come down to that, but if it was the only way to get his mother's money back, he was up to taking care of business.

There were a lot of fine single sistas on the island. Of course,
he
wasn't sampling any. Although if he had to stay too long, he might get desperate and have to trek to Norfolk. A man couldn't go but so long without hitting something.

 

Barbara set the table with fine china. Candles flickered around the flowers. The aroma of mouth-watering food added to the setting. Barbara asked Harper to say grace and afterward he dug in.

“It's all delicious,” he said after sampling each item. “I've never tasted scallops cooked this way before.”

After dinner, Harper helped Barbara clean up the kitchen.

“I'll pack some of the leftovers for you,” she murmured.

“I won't turn it down,” Harper said on their way to the living room. He tried to put the case on the back burner in his mind. He would drive by the Stones' house after he left.

There was a Russian samovar on a side table, along with figurines of a large bird. It was a formal room, yet comfortable, too, with Persian rugs and oversized furniture. Sitting side by side on the burgundy couch, they listened to music and Harper felt a warm glow of contentment.

“They're from Italy,” she said, referring to the birds. “We got them when my grandmother and I traveled there fifteen years ago. The trip was my reward for my divorce.”

“Is that what women do now? Instead of the honeymoon, they do the celebrating after the divorce?”

“I did.”

Harper chuckled. “I still can't figure out how a woman with a thriving career in New York ended up on our little island.”

“New York is too busy. I'm trying to decide whether I can live here for the rest of my life.”

“Have you ever lived in a rural area?”

She shook her head.

“When I moved back here from Baltimore, it was hard leaving all the conveniences behind. Mostly pizza delivery and a whole range of restaurants. I'm not a shopper, but I imagine you miss having stores nearby.”

“Tell me about it.”

“But you'll acclimate. I did. And it's not like you can't visit New York.”

“True. But it's a good thing I love to cook. Some of the foods I could buy at the corner store aren't available here. Not even in the grocery stores in Virginia Beach.”

“I bet if you asked Cornell for a special item, he'd make it for you, or order it.”

“That's a thought.”

And so their night went. Talking about inconsequential topics, with Barbara enjoying Harper's company.

“My friend is bringing my favorite cheeses with her when she visits at Thanksgiving,” she said later.

“Your friend is from New York, too?”

“Connecticut. She moved to New York the same time I did. She hasn't decided where she'll retire.”

For a moment, something flashed in his eyes. If Barbara hadn't been watching him closely she would have missed it completely. Did she say something she shouldn't have? Then a mischievous smile softened his lips as he stretched his arm over the back of her seat. Barbara relaxed. She was just being paranoid.

“So do you think I'll get some insight into you when I meet your friend?”

Barbara hadn't thought about that. “I'm an open book. What you see is what you get.”

Amusement flickered in his eyes. “I doubt that. Is she a hairdresser, too?”

“She's my stockbroker.” That was true enough.

“Interesting. Think she'd take a look at my portfolio?”

“I'm sure she would.”

Although the curtains were open, it was dark outside. The CDs continued to play, and as they talked, the soft music penetrated the intimate setting.

“Any progress on Sarah's murder?” Barbara asked, changing the mood.

“We've done quite a few interviews, and the Norfolk PD interrogated the old boyfriend there.”

“Do you really think one of them killed her?”

“We can't rule out any suspects yet.”

“Well, I don't know her, but I wonder what the real motive is? Who gained by her death? Did the boyfriend take out an insurance policy on her?”

“You're thinking like a detective,” Harper said. “Pretty soon you'll be doing my job for me.”

“The murder happened so close to me, I've been thinking a lot about it. I imagine she didn't make a fortune working for Mr. Hughes as a companion. Doesn't Minerva work for him now?”

“Yes, she does,” Harper said, wondering where Barbara was going with this. “But you know, I really don't want to talk shop tonight unless you know something about this murder?”

“Who, me? I don't know a thing.”

He shifted. “So tell me, Barbara, did you own a hair salon in New York?”

“No, but I've always worked with hair. I got my beautician's license when I was in high school. My grandmother insisted that a woman always needed something to fall back on.”

“Smart woman.” He leaned forward to kiss her, but she pressed a hand to his chest.

“Harper, we need to talk first. I can't promise you anything.”

He brushed her hair from her face and tilted her chin so that he could look in her eyes. “What are you afraid of?”

“It's not fear. It's just…I don't know what the future holds. I don't know if I'm going to even stay here,” she said. “I just don't want you to get your hopes up for something that might never happen.”

“I'm just going with what I feel. And that'll have to do.”

“You don't know me,” Barbara said softly.

Harper stroked his hand over her chin. “That'll change.”

“But I just don't want you to be disappointed.”

He regarded her closely. “Again, what are you afraid of?”

“Expectations.”

“Tell me about your ex.”

“That was so long ago. And what's happening now has nothing to do with him.”

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