Island of Deceit (9 page)

“Oh, my God.” Lisa's eyes had gone wider with each question.

“It's what you would have to do with any business. At least a business plan will tell you if it's feasible. All that will cost you is time,” Barbara said.

Vanetta seemed to come out of her trance and reached over to touch her sister's hand. “I can help you with that,” she said.

“I'd hire you, Lisa, and I'd like to have someone once a week to give the shop a thorough cleaning.”

“You see,” Vanetta said with a smug look. “You'll have more customers than you even thought about.”

“Maybe after I find Grandma's golden bowl.”

“Golden bowl?” Barbara asked. Dorsey had mentioned something about a golden bowl, but Barbara had forgotten about that.

“It's lost. Jordan has a list of suspects. I'm going to find out who they are and search for it.”

“You better leave that to Alyssa,” Vanetta said. “Our ancestor acquired the bowl in the early sixteen hundreds, and now it's lost,” she explained to Barbara.

“How long has it been lost?”

“I have no idea. Our Aunt Anna kept it. She died in February, and when Grandma searched for it, it was missing.”

Anna had died in February, before the Stones stole Dorsey's money. Maybe they didn't have it yet.

 

Harper drove directly to the Stones' home. Someone had broken in. They lived next door to Naomi Claxton.

Naomi stood in the yard with a knit hat pulled over her hair. Lumps underneath outlined her hair rollers. Alyssa often said her grandmother began her day later than she used to. She was in her 80s, so she deserved to take as much time as she needed.

John was already on the scene and talking to the Stones as Harper approached Naomi.

“I offered for them to come to my house to get out of the cold, but they certainly are an unfriendly lot,” Naomi said, nodding toward the Stones. “They aren't as friendly as Wanda was. God rest her soul. Wanda Fisher was a wonderful woman.”

Harper reserved judgment on Naomi's opinion and elected not to comment. “Nice” Wanda Fisher had chopped up her husband to fit in the chest freezer. Naomi and her granddaughter, Gabrielle, had found him there after Wanda had died of a heart attack and Naomi went looking for pies she had given her.

Naomi had been arranging a wake for Wanda. She was famous for her pies. Earlier in the month she had given Wanda several of them and Wanda hadn't had an opportunity to eat them before she passed away. Wanda's relatives didn't live in the area and had refused to give her a memorial service.

Naomi was so upset over her friend's death and knew her friend wouldn't mind her using them. She went to Wanda's house to retrieve them. The pies were sitting on top of Harvey Fisher's frozen corpse. Of course, Naomi had commented that he hadn't been a nice man, as if that was any excuse.

“Mrs. Claxton, have you seen anything unusual in the area lately?” Harper asked her. “Anything out of place?”

“I try to mind my business,” she said. “I just got back from a cruise, you know. It was a gift from my grandchildren.”

Harper tried not to smile. “Yes, I know. Did you and your husband enjoy your vacation?”

“Oh, yes. There was so much food. And the Bahamas was so warm and nice. One of my grandsons arranged a guided tour for us. He goes to college with a friend from there. The boy's father works for a tour company.”

“I bet that was nice.” Harper considered that maybe he should take Barbara on a cruise if things ever calmed down. For a small town, they were having a record crime spree. This year alone, they'd had more homicides than in the last twenty years.

After John finished talking to the Stones, Harper started in while John interviewed the neighbors.

“Has anything unusual occurred recently?” he asked.

“No,” Elliot Stone said. “We told your detective that.”

“I bet it was Barbara getting revenge,” Andrew said. “She did it.”

“Her whereabouts are accounted for,” Harper assured them. She was with him.

“She's got money. She could've paid someone to do this,” Andrew insisted.

“Shut up, Andrew. It wasn't Barbara. Why would she break in here? Can you see her trying to climb in that window?” Elliot plucked Andrew's head. “Think, boy.”

“We'll look into that. In the meantime, do you have any enemies?”

They glanced at each other.

“None,” Elliot said. “We must have come back in the nick of time. They didn't get a chance to steal anything.”

“So you're saying they broke in and stole nothing at all?” Harper reiterated.

“It's the damnest thing,” Elliot murmured. “I can't figure it out.” But Harper didn't believe him. Elliot was very upset even though he tried to conceal it.

“We're going to lift prints.”

“They didn't get inside, Sheriff. And any thief with a lick of sense wouldn't leave prints behind. All you'll find is ours. They got as far as the kitchen window. That's it.”

Why don't they want their prints taken?
Harper wondered.

“It's procedure. And an insurance matter. I'm sure the owner would want prints taken, at least at the point of entry.”

“Suit yourself,” Elliot said.

Harper approached John. “I'm going to let you all tie this up.” He left him with instructions to get some of the prints from inside the house, too.

John glanced up from his pad. “With everything going on, are you still having the teen meeting this afternoon or do you want to reschedule?”

“It's the one thing we have to do.”

John nodded and Harper started to his car. What disturbed him most was the number of second- and third-generation families tangled up in the criminal justice system. He used any excuse to get their teens in his program, not to harass them, but to try to steer them in a different direction. All the teens, boys and girls, were in after-school activities. He had monthly talks with each of them individually to discuss school, grades, home, any problems they needed to discuss. His door was always open, not that they actually brought their problems to him, but hopefully it would make a difference.

It was one of the reasons he preferred a smaller town versus a large city. Here, he felt he could make a difference. He couldn't give individual attention in a larger area.

He didn't reach everyone, but his record was good, and he felt a sense of accomplishment. He was very proud when he took one student shopping in August for his college wardrobe and saw him off to Hampton.

As he backed out of the driveway, he focused on the Stones. What was it about these people that made him uneasy? They were here when Sarah went missing. But there was no connection between them. It was a stretch to think the two could be connected, especially since Sarah was ten years younger than Andrew and the Stones' name was never mentioned during the investigation.

He checked his watch and headed to Lambert Hughes's place. Minerva was home and he could talk to Hughes without her input.

Barbara should be home by now. He'd like to spend more time with her, but it wasn't feasible. As he passed her house, he noticed her car in the carport, but he couldn't tell if she was there.

Another two miles and he stopped in Lambert Hughes's yard with its well-kept white Cape Cod with green trim. For years it had been neglected. When Hughes bought it, he'd restored it to its former beauty.

“Mr. Lambert? Sheriff Harper Porterfield.” Harper rang the doorbell three times before it was answered.

“I know who you are.” He opened the door wide. The man looked sad. He still wore his robe and hadn't shaved. Maybe Minerva did all that.

“I want to ask you a few questions about Sarah Rhodes. Do you have time?”

Lambert stepped back. “Come on in.”

They settled in the living room.

Lambert's café au lait complexion was a shade darker with age.

“How are things working out with your new helper?”

The older man's eyes lit up. “Minerva's very good. She never misses a day. Even calls on the weekend to make sure I'm okay. And I never have to remind her to do things. I'm lucky to have her.”

“Very good. I'd like to talk about Sarah.”

“She was a nice girl. A little young and sometimes scatterbrained, but a nice person.”

Harper took out a notepad and pen, and began to make notes. “Did she report to work regularly?”

“For the most part. Not as stable as Minerva, but she kept the place clean, cooked my food, did all my shopping. I'm so sorry she was killed. She was so young. Do you know what happened?”

“Not yet. Did she talk about people she socialized with?”

“Not really. She talked a lot on her cell phone, though. I didn't listen in. Young folks are always yakking about something. I'm military. We had to work. Couldn't talk on the phone all day.”

“I understand,” Harper commiserated. “Do you remember what she was wearing the last time you saw her?”

“I wrote it down when she didn't show up and I couldn't reach her. I found the notes last night.” He went to retrieve them.

What Harper couldn't figure out was why she was found away from the ferry instead of toward it. Even the bar and the fast-food places were toward the ferry.

Hughes returned. “One thing I learned was to record the details. She wore blue jeans and a red blouse that buttoned down the front.” He told Harper about the last day she worked for him.

“Did she work all day?”

“Yes, she left at four-thirty.” He folded his notes and placed them on the coffee table in front of him. “Oh, and I forgot to mention that Sarah told me someone ran her off the road on her way to work. She couldn't catch a ride that morning and she walked. She fell into the ditch. It rained that day and her shoes got muddy. She was some kind of angry. Good thing she wore tennis shoes. She put them in the washer.”

Harper frowned. “Did she know this person and could she describe the car?”

“Only that it was dark. It was real foggy that morning and hard to see.”

“Did she show up for work the next day?”

Lambert shook his head. “No, that was the last time I saw her.”

“Did you help pay her rent?” Harper asked.

“She couldn't afford a nice place. Had no family. I wanted to help her.”

“Did you loan her money any other time?”

“The day she went missing.”

“How much?”

“Five grand to buy a car.”

“Five thousand?” Harper asked, his pen stalled over the pad.

“She needed a new car. Always catching rides. It was dangerous. And I needed her to take me to play golf and do my grocery shopping. She didn't have family to help her out.”

“What was she going to buy?”

“Someone at the base was going to sell her a Camry. He was getting shipped out for the next few months and planned to buy a new car when he returned. He was going to deliver it to her apartment the next day, but she wasn't there.”

This put an entirely new spin on the thing. Robbery moved to the top of the list.

Lambert looked at his hand. “I feel guilty. I thought she'd taken the money and ran off.”

“Why didn't you give her a check?”

“She didn't have a bank account. I always paid her in cash.”

“Let me make sure I got this right. You gave her the money the day she disappeared.”

Hughes nodded. “That very afternoon.”

“Thank you for your time,” Harper said, pulling out a business card. “If you think of anything, even if it seems minor, please call.”

Lambert looked at the card and put it with the paper he'd written the other information on as Harper left.

The bartender hadn't returned from his vacation the last time Harper tried to reach him. It was time for him to try again. And to interview the people who gave Sarah rides.

As Harper neared Barbara's place, he debated stopping for a few minutes, but too much was going on for him to indulge himself. He sighed and headed to the office.

“Oh, God. I can't believe they took our money,” Minerva wailed.

“They took the money from the fake bottom in the suitcase,” Elliot said. “All of it. Damn it, that's half our stash.” Elliot slammed his fist on the table, eying Minerva and Andrew. “Five hundred grand. Gone. Just like that.”

“You idiot. I told you not to put it there,” Minerva said. “But do you listen to me?”

“Who talked?” Elliot glared at Minerva and Andrew.

Minerva glared right back. “I didn't tell anyone.”

“Look, nobody waltzed in here and got that money out of a false bottomed suitcase,” Elliot snapped. “They knew where it was. We weren't gone long enough for them to search the place.” Elliot pointed his gaze at Andrew. “Andrew, did you tell anyone where it was?”

“You never told me where it was. Who would I tell?”

“What about Sonya?”

“She's in the Bahamas.”

Elliot glared at him. “Are you sure?”

“She's working there. You set it up.”

“You want a bourbon?” Minerva asked, slumped in the chair.

“Bourbon? Bourbon? Our freaking money is gone and you're talking about bourbon?”

“Well, I need one.”

“Did you call Lambert to tell him you were gonna be late?” Elliot asked. “You've got to work. You can't go there smelling like liquor.”

After Minerva called Lambert, she poured herself a soothing cup of tea and sat at the table, her hand twisting the napkin in her lap.

“You can't go in too late either,” Elliot told her. “You've got a reputation to uphold.”

“I can't believe they stole half our money,” Minerva said. “What are we going to do?”

Elliot shook his head. “I don't know. I've got to think.” He was the one who always had to come up with solutions. It would be nice if he had some help for a change. He stood a better chance at winning a hundred million dollar lottery.

“We've been living really low—no luxuries. You won't even let me get a manicure,” Minerva whined. “Why would anyone think we had money stashed away? Nobody here knows us. Or do they? Is our cover blown? What did we do to make people think we had money?”

They both looked at Andrew. “You been talking, boy?” Elliot asked.

Andrew leaned back in his chair. Elliot pressed a hand to his chest and held him in place. “Not me. Not a word. I don't know anyone here to talk to. If Barbara had known we had money, she wouldn't have loaned me that hundred bucks. And I do all my socializing in Norfolk,” he admitted. “They don't know where I live, and you don't give me enough money to flash around.”

“Barbara loaned you a hundred bucks?” was the only thing Elliot picked up on.

Andrew looked sheepish. “I just needed a little spending money, Daddy. You're so tightfisted. I never have any to spend.”

“Don't you understand we're trying to build up our stash so we can retire? When we get to Mexico we can live like rich folks, but not now. It blows our cover. You have food on the table and a roof over your head, don't you? What more do you need?”

“I'm tired of this work,” Minerva cut in. “Ever since you got involved in that investment scam, everything has gone downhill. You never should have invested our savings.”

“I didn't lose it on purpose. It was a mistake anyone coulda made.”

“I'm getting too old for this scam. It gives me the creeps when that man touches me.”

“I had to do things with women I'd rather not,” Elliot complained. “You think I liked having to suck up to crones? They get bitchy and like to tell me what to do. You know I don't like that, but I had to suck it up for the benefit of the family. We all have to do our part.”

“But, Elliot…”

“You've had a good life up 'til now. You've never had to work. It's time you did your part and quit complaining. I didn't complain when I had to pull the hours for thirty years, did I?”

“All right. Working is better than listening to you grumble.”

Andrew just looked at him as if he thought going to bed with women was okay in his book. Some of them were, but he wasn't going to let Minerva know.

Elliot pierced Andrew with a glare. “You got it easy, boy,” he said. “You don't have to lift a finger. When's the last time you talked to Sonya?” Sonya was in the Bahamas as a companion for some really rich guy. They should make a killing off him.

“A week ago.”

“How did she say it was going? She close to getting that money yet?”

“She said the old coot was coming around. But she has to work slowly. She can't do much with his family getting in the way. She expects to have something after Christmas,” Andrew said. “His family is going oversees for the holidays and she'll have him to herself. She's going to work on him good before they come back.”

Elliot nodded. “She should do okay.” Although he reserved judgment on Sonya. She wasn't as malleable as Minerva and Andrew.

“But, Daddy, I don't like my women….”

“Boy, you do what you have ta do to make ends meet. It's a tough world out here,” he bemoaned. “Just because you don't have to work doesn't mean the rest of us don't. And now that the economy's shot to hell and folks have lost so much money, they're tightfisted as hell.”

“But with half our money gone, we still won't have enough to retire on,” Minerva said, wringing her hands. “And we can't keep doing this. We almost got caught the last time. That woman put up a fuss. She was spying on us. I still wonder if she talked to anybody. My face is the one on the security cameras.”

“With all that makeup and sunshades, your own mama wouldn've recognized you under that big floppy hat.”

“But still, Elliot, my signature is on record at the bank,” Minerva pointed out.

“I know, I know. But they've got no evidence that she didn't cash out the CDs herself. If somebody was coming after us, they would've done it by now. Just let me think,” Elliot said. “The mark you have now is rich as sin. He made a mint and he saved plenty. Thirty-five years in the Navy. Retired as an Admiral. Then he worked high up in some corporation for eighteen years. Maybe we can get enough out of him to make up the difference. His family is clear across the country. They don't know what's going on here.”

“I don't know, Elliot. We've always gotten a certain amount and no more. We can't get too greedy. That was your rule. Rich people have resources.”

“That was because the people we usually go after didn't have but so much. The mark you have now is ten times as wealthy as the others.”

“Could be ten times as dangerous, too.” Minerva stood. “I have to go in to work. Elliot, you've got to come up with something. I can't make up the difference in what we lost. And I'll say it again. I'm getting tired of scamming people. I've got a really bad feeling about this. Everything's going wrong. I can feel something out of kilter in my bones.”

“Your bones? Bunch of nonsense, woman. You listen here. Just quit your griping, right now,” Elliot snapped, hitting the tabletop. “It's nothing but this damp weather messing with your arthritis. I'm tired of your bitching and moaning every single time you have a job to do. Nothing's going to happen. You work on getting that money and we'll be out of the country before his family knows what hit him. Let's aim for leaving here right after Christmas—New Year's, latest.”

Minerva's mouth trembled in anger, but she knew better than to sass him. “Well, are you going to drop me off at work or are you going to let me drive the car?”

“I'll take you.”

As Elliot drove to Lambert's place, he pondered the robbery. It had to have been someone who knew them and about the money. Otherwise, they wouldn't have found that stash. A regular thief wouldn't have thought to look in that false bottomed suitcase. They had a pile of old quilts and boxes over it.

“The only person I can come up with is Sonya,” Elliot said. “For all we know, Sonya could've already robbed that old guy and come back here for our money. We can't tell where she is. Either that or she never went there in the first place. For all we know, she coulda been here waiting for her chance to grab the suitcase.”

“You really think Andrew would do that to us?”

“A woman can turn a man's head, Minerva. Give 'em what he wants. Andrew goes to Norfolk nearly every night. What if he's meeting up with Sonya there?” he asked.

“Oh, Elliot.”

“She coulda found out about your grandma's trust fund he's coming into at forty. Could even be planning to snatch him away from us. He doesn't need us to get it.” Elliot parked in Lambert's yard.

Minerva's hand hovered over the handle. “We've got to stop her.”

“I'll come up with something,” Elliot said.

“You need to put the money we have left in a safety deposit box, Elliot. We can't afford to lose it.”

“They won't find it. I've already moved it to a place nobody will get to it.”

“You said that the last time.”

After he dropped Minerva off, he headed to the ferry. He couldn't just let it go. Not that much money. He was going to hire his buddy in Norfolk to retrieve the money and find out if Sonya was here. That guy knew people for a hundred miles. Didn't anybody just walk off the street and choose his house. Not when they coulda hit somebody like Barbara or some of the rich islanders like that Jordan Ellis fellow who was loaded for sure.

Elliot drove an eight-year-old car. His house was a rental. He didn't work, nor did his son. Somebody was at the house most of the time. They lived like paupers. Yet, somebody had chosen his place.

Someone was watching their house, damn it. He'd have to give this guy a ten percent finder's fee. He hated like hell to give up that much. But if he got his stash back, it was worth it.

Then, too, he wouldn't put it past one of Minerva's good-for-nothing brothers to have stolen it. Never seen such a sorry bunch of men. He could put all four of their brains together and it still wouldn't make up a whole one. Andrew was more like them than him. Minerva must have been fooling around. No way that boy came from his seed.

But Elliot wasn't going to gripe. Andrew was coming into five million, enough for them to live off for the rest of their lives. Right now they needed enough to live off until Andrew turned forty.

He passed Barbara's place and shook his head. If Andrew had a lick of sense…Elliot's pressure shot up just thinking about how that boy messed up with Barbara. If that boy had played his cards right, the two of them could have married, and Elliot and Minerva would have been on easy street living in her house. That place was big enough for all four of them. He'd even manage the shop and money for her while she did the work and they wouldn't have to move. He didn't want to move to Mexico. They were having all kinds of trouble over there, but they couldn't afford to live large here.

Elliot sighed, looking at that new Cadillac parked under the carport, and pressed the gas pedal of his own ancient sedan.

Even he knew Barbara was too much woman for Andrew. He should have played the single man and courted her himself. He could have gotten rid of Minerva and married Barbara, and the two of them could be living in that house right now. And he'd have none of these worries.

Lips crimped together, Elliot made his way to the dock and waited in the ferry line.

 

When Harper left Hughes's place, he drove directly to Robert Freelander's house. At twenty-seven, Robert owned a tiny two-bedroom cottage on inner island property. After obtaining a degree from Norfolk State, he got a nursing job at a hospital in Norfolk.

His car was in the yard, and Harper rang the doorbell several times before it was answered. He'd been in bed.

“Sheriff?” Robert wiped his bloodshot eyes and drew his hands through his mussed hair.

“I have some questions about Sarah Rhodes.”

Robert swiped a hand across his face and moved back. “Come on in.”

“Late night?”

“I worked the night shift—twelve hours.” He sunk into the leather sofa. “It was a tough night. Under-staffed. The usual. What about Sarah?”

“When was the last time you saw Sarah?”

“The week before she disappeared. I give her a ride to work when I work the night shift and her car's in the shop. She doesn't live that far from the hospital.”

“Your number was the last one she dialed.”

“I'm not surprised. She called that week asking if I could give her a ride, but I was working the day shift.”

“Did you socialize with her?”

“No, I met her through Ben at the bar. They were dating. And I started giving her rides when she needed them and our schedules jibed.”

“Were she and Ben still dating?”

“They broke up a while back, but she still hung out at the bar sometimes.”

“Who else gave her rides?”

“Don't know. I guess anyone going in her direction.”

“Who can I call to verify your schedule for that day?”

Robert gave him the information and Harper left for the school gym to meet with the teens.

Most of the department employees volunteered time with the kids, and the secretary was taking roll when he got there. One kid was missing.

Mrs. Claxton and Lisa's mother were setting out snacks the church offered each month. Harper didn't know how Naomi Claxton did it. If it was a cause worth its salt, she volunteered. He hadn't asked for snacks for the kids, but as soon as she found out about the program, she stepped up to the plate.

“I don't know why we have to come here every month. This ain't doing no good. This is a bunch of shi…garbage.” Harper didn't allow the kids to curse in his presence.

One of the kids was more out of sorts than usual. Sly's father, uncle, and older brother got caught robbing a bank three years ago. They got twenty years each. His twenty-four-year-old brother would spend his life in prison. There were four children in that family. Sly's brother was the one at Hampton. Harper wanted to turn the outcome for Sly and his sister as well, but ultimately that decision was theirs.