Island of Deceit (23 page)

“Husband?”

“Brother,” she snapped.

Harper shifted the papers in front of him. “Elliot's your husband. One Minerva Smith married Elliot Stone thirty-five years and four months ago in Detroit,” he read and glanced up, staring directly into Minerva's eyes. “Just in time for your dear son to be born with his father's name,” he said. “Now, do you want to revise your statement?”

“I've never stolen money from anyone. That's all I'm saying,” she said, tea and muffin forgotten. “I was with Lambert when the shooting occurred. If you don't believe me, ask him or his daughter.”

They already had.

“Harper?” John poked her head in the door. “Can you come here a minute? There's an emergency.”

Harper followed him into the hallway and shut the door behind him. “What is it?”

“Somebody broke into Barbara's house. Lisa went to get some clothes and things for her. Looks like somebody's been living there.”

“How's Andrew?”

“He came around. Alyssa gave him something to eat and drink. He's okay for now. But he's still waiting in the interrogation room.”

“Take Minerva back to a cell. But don't let her see Andrew.”

In five minutes, he was at Barbara's place.

Alyssa had left a minute before them and was canvassing the area on foot. Lisa was sitting in her car.

Harper checked his watch. The next ferry was due in fifteen minutes. He called the night deputy and told him to get up and go to the ferry to check the cars leaving, especially those he couldn't identify. “And in particular a brown Ford Taurus.”

“Secure the place with cones,” he told John. “I'll be back soon.”

Alyssa was on foot. Whoever was there had made a mad dash out the back door when Lisa came in the front. They could have had a car parked someplace nearby. Harper looked around at the thick woodlands on the other side of the road; then he got into his car and drove down the path.

Just an old barn remained where a family house used to be. That property belonged to Barbara, too. He drove down the severely potholed path. It opened onto an inner island road. A car had recently driven through there. Harper drove alongside of the tire tracks, hoping to find a place to get a cast to determine who drove through. He spent an hour cruising the island searching for the culprit and ended up at the ferry.

“No strangers came through here,” the night duty deputy told him.

The entire sheriff's staff was exhausted. He called a couple of retired deputies and had them help with the ferry search. “As soon as they arrive, let them know what we're looking for and you get some sleep,” Harper told the deputy and called Nancy at the artist colony.

“Has that couple returned yet?”

“No, but I know they will in a couple days. They always do. They've left all their things here.”

“They could be dangerous. If they show up, give my office a call,” he said, and headed back to Barbara's house.

He put on crime scene bootees and plastic gloves before he went in.

The scent of bacon hit him as soon as he entered. It pissed him off that someone had invaded her space while she was fighting for her life in the hospital.

Someone had cooked breakfast and hadn't bothered or had time to wash the dishes afterward. He bagged a glass and fork for DNA analysis.

Quickly, he walked through the house, room by room. He couldn't tell if anything was taken. At least they hadn't trashed the place, but they could have stolen things.

In the den, the drawers were opened, all of them. He knew that Barbara usually kept them locked. He's seen her use the key to retrieve something. He rifled through the drawers, but he couldn't tell if anything was missing.

A picture of an older woman looked at him from the desk. He did not see that when he was here before. It must be her grandmother's photo.

“I want prints lifted,” he said, “especially in here, in the kitchen, and the bedroom where this scum slept.”

“We're already on it,” Alyssa said.

Andrew had said the stranger usually gave him rides from the ferry or from bars in Norfolk. Everybody wanted something from Andrew. His parents wanted his money. He thought of Trent. He was around the ladies. Minerva went to the shop. Did he fit into this mess? Harper worked until dusk.

“You've got to get some rest, Harper. And you need a shave,” Alyssa told him.

“I'm going to shower and shave before I visit Barbara. I'll probably catch a nap there.”

When Harper arrived at home, none of the lights was on to greet him. No smell of food or Barbara's smiling face. His home felt lonelier than ever. He showered, changed, and even took the time to shave.

The next day, they got the results of the fingerprints of the person who'd handled the boat.

“Do you know a Sonya Davies?” Harper asked Elliot.

“No, never heard of her,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

Harper saw the shift in his eyes. He was lying. “I'm asking the questions.”

Harper moved closer, got right in his face, and loomed over him. “You want to think about your answer?”

Elliot leaned back and shook his head. “I don't know anyone by that name.”

Harper interrogated Elliot for an hour but didn't get any useful information. Harper had nothing to hold him with, but he held Elliot and Minerva an extra couple of hours and was forced to let him go, even though he didn't want to.

Barbara felt like Sleeping Beauty must have felt after her extremely long nap. Then the pain hit her and she groaned.

“You just can't do things the easy way, can you?”

Barbara tried to open her eyes, but she felt as if she was in a fog. “Liane?” she whispered, but it couldn't be. Liane was on her way back to New York. And what was wrong with her?

“I'm here.”

“What…”

“You were shot.”

Her fuzzy memory began to return. She had been talking to Elliot and suddenly something hit her.

She remembered waking up a couple of times and people talking or barking at her. She remembered hearing Harper's voice. But he wasn't there now. Liane looked worried.

“I'm glad you're finally pulling out of this.”

Her mouth felt dry. “Who shot me?”

“They don't know. Did Elliot do it?”

She shook her head. “Don't think so. We talked. I was going into the store and he was leaving. Didn't see a gun.”

“That doesn't mean he didn't have one.”

The nurse came in, took her vitals, and gave her medication. Barbara couldn't keep her eyes open for very long before she slept again.

When she woke up the next time, the nurse was there and Harper was sleeping in a chair near her bed. His face was lined with exhaustion.

He moved close to the bed. “How are you?”

“Okay.” Barbara wasn't one to say the obvious. Anybody looking at her knew she felt like hell.

Barbara was looking a little better, but she was still in ICU.

“How are you feeling, babe?”

“I wasn't trying to get out of our conversation, honest,” she said hoarsely. At least her breathing tube was removed.

It was too soon for Harper to find levity in the situation. Not the way she was hooked up to tubes and beeping machines.

“You could have trusted me.”

“I do trust you. So who shot me?”

Harper squeezed her hand. “I don't know yet.” He pulled up a chair. “So you were here to retrieve the money the Stones stole from your grandmother.” Harper knew this but felt like repeating it. Liane had given him an abridged version. How much she left out was questionable.

“Elliot killed her.”

“Detective Mosley said she fell down the stairs.”

“She called me when she—” Barbara coughed, alarming Harper.

“Don't talk now,” he said. She was worn out from the conversation, but she gripped his hand.

“I know he killed her. And I know he killed Sarah.”

He stroked her forehead. “Get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up.”

When Naomi came in, Harper left and called Alyssa for an update. None of them was getting much sleep. When he returned, he straightened the covers over Barbara.

“Someone broke into your house.”

“Did they steal anything?”

“I can't tell.”

“Did they damage anything?”

“Looks like they knew you weren't there and were looking for a place to stay. Your grandmother's picture was on the desk.”

“But I left it in the back of the drawer.”

“Why? You don't have any pictures around.”

“In case Elliot broke in.”

“You want to tell me what's going on?”

“It's part of what I was going to tell you. Elliot courted my grandmother and ultimately stole money from her—a lot of it.” She told Harper about the five other women the PI had found.

“They were all women and all seniors?”

Barbara nodded.

“So you came here to get your grandmother's money back.”

“He operated a little differently with my grandmother. Because her signature wasn't on the CDs, the bank was responsible. Dorsey wouldn't just hand them over for any reason. She wore huge floppy hats and Minerva wore one pretending to be my grandmother. She did a pretty credible job of the signature, too.”

“So how did you plan to get the money from Elliot?”

Barbara was silent. “You don't want to know. Suffice it to say, Elliot killed Sarah. I can't prove it. But he did.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because Lambert Hughes was their next mark. The only reason they can't get money from him is that I called his daughter to give her the heads up. She was able to get power of attorney over his assets. But Elliot had no problem with killing Sarah to get her out of the way.”

“And you think he shot you?”

“No, he can't get his money back….”

Harper scrubbed a hand over his face. “Barbara, what have you done?”

She clamped her mouth closed.

“Barbara.”

“One woman they stole money from can't afford to buy her medicine. These women are alone, Harper. They have no other resources. Social Security doesn't pay enough to take care of all their expenses. They are in their seventies and eighties, and often alone.”

“Why didn't you tell me this in the beginning? I could have helped you.”

“How were they going to pay for their expenses if lawyers got most of their money? By the time any court case is over, they'd be dead and still wouldn't have their money,” she said, then coughed. Jesus, the pain shooting through her chest felt like somebody stabbed her.

“Take it easy,” he said, concerned. “Take a couple of breaths.”

It took several moments for the pain to abate. When Barbara had calmed down, she said, “These women are not going to resort to eating cat food to exist, and they will be able to buy their medicines.”

As angry as Harper was, he couldn't help but feel a touch of pride. His tigress was laid up in the hospital and still fighting. But this was dangerous, too.

“So obviously Elliot gave you the money. And since you were a broker, then he expects you to invest it.”

“He doesn't know I was a broker and it's not
his
money.”

Harper blew out a long breath. “What did you expect to do once you got the money? Did you think he'd just walk away because you spanked him?”

“I expect you to put him in jail where he belongs and I won't have to deal with him.”

“With no information? You didn't say one word, not one…” Harper restrained his temper. He'd wait until she was well before he laid into her, but good.

“You know now, don't you?”

Harper grabbed his temper. “What else can you tell me? Can you give me the names of the other women?”

“It's in my credenza. The file folder says ‘Marks'.”

“Let's hope your thief didn't destroy it.”

“If he did, I'll give you the name of the PI. He can give you names and addresses. I also have them in Dorsey's house in Philly, but that would take more time.”

“Why don't you give me the name of that PI?”

“It's in the same folder. His phone number is also on my cell phone.”

“Did you break into the Stones' house the first time?”

“No.”

“Trent mentioned some woman was watching the Stones' place.”

“I don't have a clue. I haven't been there.”

He could see she was tiring. “Get some rest,” he said. He kissed her on the forehead.

“Take my ring back.”

He looked at her sharply. “Why?”

“I can't wear it in here. I'd rather you kept it until I go home.”

He nodded.

 

“The info on the contact lens came back,” Alyssa said late the next morning. “The ophthalmologist identified Elliot Stone as the one he made them for.”

“Book him for the murder of Sarah Rhodes.” About time they got a break.

“And for the attempted murder of Barbara?”

“I don't think he shot her.”

Alyssa and John left to pick Elliot up again. It had really bothered them when they'd had to release him.

 

Trent had visited Barbara while she was in ICU, but a couple days later they moved her to a regular room. He got there around eleven that morning.

“You're looking better,” he said, standing in the doorway.

Barbara smiled. “I feel better.”

He carried a bunch of flowers in his hand and had the foresight to put them in a vase.

“The flowers are beautiful,” she said. “Thank you.”

He searched around for someplace to put them and noticed the available space was already covered with flowers, so he set them on the floor and dropped into a chair near her.

“Your customers been sending their regards. They want you to get well soon.” He encountered people everywhere—the cleaners, the grocery store, the Greasy Spoon.

Barbara smiled. “How was your visit with your family?” she asked.

“Very good. My mother's doing much better. Got her up and moving again. I talked to my sister and she hasn't regressed.”

“I didn't know your mother was ill.”

Trent glanced at his hands. Seemed to choose his words carefully. “She's the reason I came here. When you get outta the hospital, we'll talk.”

“I've got nothing to do here. Why don't we talk now while we have a quiet moment?”

“You just get yourself well. This can wait.”

“You can do manicures and pedicures in the shop if you want to. The customers will want their nails done for Christmas parties.”

“I might. Give me something to do.”

“I'll have Harper give you a key. It seems everyone has a motive for being here. So tell me, why are you really here?”

“The Stones stole my mother's life savings.”

“Oh, Trent. No wonder she's heartbroken.”

He shook his head. “Didn't think anything could knock her off her feet. She's a proud woman. Reminds me of you.”

“She's lucky to come out of it with her life. I believe Elliot killed my grandmother. But I can't prove it.”

Trent frowned. “What about that women they found near my place? You think they killed her, too?”

“Yes, or at least Elliot did, so that Minerva could take her job as Lambert's companion. He's very wealthy and I believe they planned to bilk him for everything they could. I called his daughter before that could happen, and she now has control of his money.”

“What about you? You think they shot you?”

Barbara shook her head and sighed. “I don't know. I was with Elliot when it happened. I can't see Andrew having the gumption to shoot anyone.”

“Andrew has a girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Yeah, my mother told me about her. Then there's this woman who was spying on their house.”

“How do you know this?”

“'Cause I was spying, too. Trying to find a time I could get my mama's money back. Mama went to the police department. They couldn't do nothing.” He sighed in disgust. “No wonder people take care of things themselves. Especially when the law won't do a thing.”

“They have to have proof.”

“I've got proof. A mama who's sick to her soul for what they did. Look at you laid up in the hospital. That bullet coulda killed you.” Trent stood. “If the law isn't gonna take care of it, I will.”

“Trent, give Harper a chance. You know he'll do a thorough investigation. It's their main priority. They have to make sure that the information they find holds up in court. It does no good if they do a shoddy job. And I don't need to be worrying about you.”

“You don't have to worry about me. I can take care of myself. I'll get a confession out of 'em.”

Barbara leaned over to grab his hand. Pain stabbed her chest and she groaned. It hurt so bad she couldn't breathe.

Trent gently laid her back. “Don't you be moving like that. Take it easy.”

It took a minute for her to get a breath. Trent pulled up the chair and patted her hand awkwardly, not knowing what to do. “Want me to call the nurse?”

Barbara shook her head. Finally, she spoke in a weak voice, “Promise me you'll leave the investigating to Harper and Alyssa.”

He could see she was tired. She couldn't talk about this any longer. He gave her a curt nod, but it was evident she didn't believe him.

“What will it do to your mother if you end up in jail? Do you want to worry her more than she already is?”

Frustrated, Trent leaned back in the seat. That's the last thing he needed. If he couldn't get that money back, he might have to help her pay the bills. He couldn't do that in jail. He regarded Barbara. She was upset when she should be concentrating on getting well. He didn't want her worrying about him.

“Okay. I'll let your man take care of things. You get a nap now. I'll be back to visit you.”

“I may be able to get some of her money for her,” Barbara said. “I'm considering different options, such as setting up a trust that I manage and sending each woman a monthly check. With the money invested, they'll eventually get all of it back.”

“You can decide that later. Just get some rest now.”

Barbara nodded. “Okay.”

 

Elliot was dead. Murdered with a single gunshot.

Jesus Christ, Harper thought as he drove toward their house, lights blinking.

He had every deputy and even the retired ones canvassing the island, the shore, and the ferry, but already they could be too late, depending on how long ago Elliot was killed. Having drank himself nearly unconscious, Andrew had either slept through it all or it happened before he got home. Minerva had slept through it. Andrew had found him that morning when the phone woke him. Lambert had phoned the house when Minerva didn't show up for work. Minerva had overslept. Elliot usually woke her.

Andrew and Minerva were now with Naomi Claxton.

That house was going to get a reputation for bringing bad luck. First the Flemings and now Elliot Stone. He doubted anyone would want to live there after this. Soon they'd be including it on ghost tours.

Crime scene cones and tape had already been put up. It was going to take the rest of the day to process the scene. Harper really wanted to know the whereabouts of the couple living at the artist colony.