Blackmoore Sisters 01-Dead Wrong (4 page)

“So, you want to sell it?” Celeste interrupted her thoughts.

“No, not sell it. Pawn it,” Fiona said. “We can take it down to Cal Reed and see if he’ll take it in exchange for the money we need. We know the charges against Morgan will never stick. She didn’t do it. So we won’t need to spend the whole five grand with Delphine. Once Morgan is cleared, we can get the rest of our deposit back, scrape up whatever we need to top it off to five thousand, and collect the necklace from Cal.”

“That’s a great idea. We know we can trust Cal,” Celeste said.
 

Calvin Reed had been a classmate of Fiona’s and good friends with all the Blackmoore girls since they were kids. He was practically like a brother to them. Fiona had no doubt he would take good care of their necklace in his pawn shop. It was the best way she could think of to raise the money and still have a chance of keeping the necklace in the family.

“So, are we in agreement to do this?” Fiona asked.
 

“Yes!”

“Of course!”

“Great.” Fiona put her fisted hand out toward the other girls, her knuckles facing them and the three did a knuckle tap.

“If you need to come up with more money, I have a little socked away from my job,” Jolene said. Having recently graduated, she’d taken a job at one of the local restaurants,
Barnacle Bill’s
, until she decided what she wanted to do with her life.
 

Fiona felt her heart melt at the offer. A year ago, it seemed like Jolene could have cared less what happened to any of them. She was distant and moody, spending most of her time in her room or arguing with them. But she really seemed to be coming around. Fiona wondered if this was how a parent felt when they realized their little child was finally growing up.

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Fiona said. “Now let’s get a move on. We still have to meet with Delphine and go over to Cal’s. I don’t want Morgan rotting in jail any longer than she has to.”

“I’m going to give Overton a piece of my mind,” sputtered Delphine Jones as she climbed out of her late model Toyota. “What he’s doing is barely legal.”

Fiona leaned against Celeste’s Volkswagen which was parked next to Delphine’s and studied the petite attorney. She wore a casual outfit consisting of an ankle length skirt in a rainbow of colors, an orange tee-shirt and a yellow blazer. Somehow the outfit worked on her and complimented her dark skin and cropped hair.

Fiona knew she had made the right decision in hiring Delphine, even though she was a bit unconventional. The attorney was a whirlwind of energy. She didn’t waste any time, got things done quickly and, most importantly, she believed that Morgan was innocent.

“Shall we?” Fiona nodded her head toward the police station and Delphine started walking. Fiona, Celeste and Jolene followed.

“I’ll go up and deal with Overton,” Delphine said, “You can go visit your sister.” Delphine looked at her watch. “She should be released within fifteen minutes. After that, I gotta run, so I’ll get back in touch with you if I hear anything new. It’s really just a waiting game after this. Overton
has
to come up with something concrete that ties Morgan to the murder scene before he can start to prosecute. Right now he’s got nothing.”

Fiona opened the police station door and motioned for Delphine to go in. The feisty attorney stormed up to the desk.

“I need to see Sheriff Overton, pronto,” she barked at the desk clerk.

The clerk, a short, round woman whose head barely reached the top of the counter looked around nervously. “He’s busy now.”

Delphine slapped her hand on the counter. “I don’t care what he’s doing. You tell him if he doesn’t talk to me now, the next time he sees me it will be on opposite sides of a wrongful arrest suit!”

The clerk’s eyes went wide and she got up from her chair. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And make sure somebody takes these girls down to see my client, Morgan Blackmoore.” Delphine yelled after her, leaning over the counter.

Delphine turned and winked at Fiona as a uniformed officer came out from the back.

“This way, ladies,” he gestured for them to file through the door he held open.

The girls were unusually silent as they followed the officer down a manila tiled corridor to a steel door that opened to reveal a set of concrete stairs.

They filed down the stairs, the echoe’s of their footsteps sounding hollow, the musty smell getting stronger with each step. Fiona’s heart lurched in her chest, thinking of poor Morgan in her barren, uncomfortable jail cell enduring this pungent mildew smell, and god only knew what else.

They trudged down a long corridor, toward a door made of metal bars which the officer pressed a button on the wall to open. He held it for the three girls. Fiona turned and her heart skipped when she noticed the looks on her sister’s faces mirrored her own apprehensive feelings.

The room had three cells. The officer stopped in front of the last one and Fiona willed her feet to follow him. An iron fist squeezed her chest, she could barely breathe picturing what she would see when she looked in the cell—Morgan depressed and crying, curled on the cot all alone.

Then she heard a trill of laughter. Morgan’s laughter. Her brow furrowed and she increased her pace.

“You have visitors, Morgan,” The officer said into the cell and then stepped back to make room for Fiona, Celeste and Jolene to crowd around the front.

Fiona’s mouth dropped open when she saw what was really going on in the cell. Morgan sat on the small bed, across from her in a chair sat Jake Cooper, a folding table in between them held what looked like the remnants of a pot roast meal complete with mashed potatoes and vegetables.

Morgan’s face broke into a smile when she saw her sisters “Hey, you guys didn’t have to all come down here.” She got up and walked over to the bars.

“Morgan, what are you doing?” Fiona’s eyes narrowed and she tilted her head toward the table of food and Jake.

Morgan looked back over her shoulder. “Oh, Jake just brought me supper, wasn’t that nice of him?”

Fiona screwed up her face and scrutinized Jake as Morgan greeted her other sisters.
What was he up to?

“I hope you didn’t tell him anything.” Fiona whispered to Morgan.

“Like what?” Morgan shrugged. “I don’t have anything to tell.”

In the background, Fiona could see Jake picking up what was left of their dinner. He stood and came toward them.

“Are these your sisters?” He asked.

“Yep, this is Celeste, Jolene and you already know Fiona, I think.” Jake nodded to Fiona and shook hands with the others.
 

“Well, I think we can open the door and let them in to visit,” he said nodding to the officer still standing behind them.
 

The door slid open and the girls rushed in to hug Morgan while Jake stepped out of the cell. Just then another officer appeared.
 

“Overton says to release her,” he said to Jake.

“Well, looks like you’re free to go.” Jake nodded at Morgan, then stepped back to let the women procede him up the corridor.

“I can go?
 
You mean I’m cleared?” Morgan asked.

“No, you’re still a suspect,” the officer answered. “We just don’t have enough to hold you.”

“Oh.” Morgan’s face fell a little, but then she smiled. “Well, I know I’ll be cleared soon enough so it’s just as good.”
 

They filed out, Morgan first and Fiona bringing up the rear. Jake stepped in line behind them. They retraced their steps up the corridor, up the stairs, then stopped at the desk to collect an envelope of Morgan’s personal effects.

Fiona felt her heart swell at the look of joy on Morgan’s face as they headed out the door that Jake held open for them. She cleared the doorway and Jake fell in behind her. She ignored the flip-flop of her stomach when he put his hand on the small of her back, attributing it to all the excitement and lack of dinner.

“Now, I expect you girls won’t do anything silly,” he said looking pointedly at Fiona.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Like what?”

“Oh, you know, go poking around trying to figure out who the killer is?”

Fiona felt anger rising. Who was
he
to tell them what to do?
 

“Well, since the police seem hell bent on prosecuting my sister for it, I don’t see we have much choice.”
 

Jake looked down at the pavement and pushed a pebble around with his shoe. When he looked back up, Fiona’s heart lurched at something she saw in his eyes. Concern?
 
Fear? She wasn’t sure which, but his next words chilled her.

“Look, I think we might be dealing with someone very dangerous here. You girls should stay out of it. Let the police handle it.”

Fiona snickered, but Morgan cut her off before she could say anything.

“Of course we will, won’t we Fi?” Fiona noticed the way Morgan raised her eyebrow at her and took that as a warning to keep quiet.

“Sure.” She managed to choke the words out.

“Good, then I’ll wish you good luck and send you on your way.” He nodded at them, turned and strode back into the police station.

Fiona stared at his retreating back. She had no intention of following his orders, especially when it seemed like the police were content to pin the murder on Morgan. She didn’t feel confident that they would conduct a thorough investigation to find the real killer. For all she knew the dangerous person she needed to be afraid of was Jake Cooper, himself.

Morgan curled her feet under her in the oversized chair and took a sip of chamomile tea. Reaching down, she stroked the silky fur of Belladonna who lay on her lap contentedly purring. It felt good to be home.

Morgan felt safe here in her favorite room with her sisters. It wasn’t the largest one in their twenty four room home, but it was the most comfortable. Decorated in grays and blues, Morgan could see her mother’s touch everywhere; from the overstuffed white furniture, to the giant starfish and seashells on the mantle, to the chipped paint coffee table. The room sat on the east side of the house and the large bay window offered an unobstructed view of the Atlantic Ocean a mere two hundred feet away.

“I feel awful that you guys had to pawn that necklace … I didn’t even know there was stuff like that up there,” Morgan said, glancing upwards toward the attic.

“We didn’t have much choice. It didn’t look like they were going to let you out,” Fiona said. “Unless you were planning on charming Jake Cooper into springing you.”

Morgan laughed, “Hardly.” Then she narrowed her eyes at Fiona “He’s not the enemy, you know.”

Fiona snorted. “He’s the one that cuffed you and put you in the back of the police car!”

“Only because he was ordered to.”

Fiona glared at Morgan. “Think what you want, but I’m warning you, you’d better watch out around him. I sense that he’s trouble.”

Morgan cocked an eyebrow at her sister, wondering why Fiona was protesting so much about Jake. She didn’t think Jake was trouble. She thought Jake could be a valuable ally. And he seemed like a perfect match for Fiona. Morgan could practically see the sparks fly between them. She was certain Jake felt the same way … she’d noticed how his gaze lingered on Fiona at the jail. If only Fiona would just wake up and notice it herself. Maybe she would have to give her a special herbal tea to help things along.

“I didn’t want to take the necklace,” Cal said coming in from the kitchen with two glasses full of green juice. “I could just lend you guys the money.”

Morgan watched Cal hand Celeste one of the glasses and then sit next to her on the couch. He’d been sitting on their front porch when they returned home, worried about her. Cal was the closest thing they had to a brother and she would never risk their relationship by borrowing money from him.

“Don’t be silly, we would never take advantage of you like that,” Fiona said, echoing Morgan’s thoughts.

Cal made a face. “Oh for crying out loud, I have the money. Besides, that necklace is a family heirloom, and a nice one at that. You girls should really get up in the attic and see what else is there.”

“What kind of stuff
was
up there, Fi?” Morgan asked.

“Just a bunch of old junk, furniture, dishes, boxes packed full of god knows what.” Fiona furrowed her brow. “There was one interesting thing, though.”

Celeste and Cal both raised their eyebrows.
 

“What?” they said at the same time, then fell back on the couch laughing and punched each other lightly in the arm.

“It was an old book. It looked ancient, but I couldn’t find any date; a handwritten journal of some sort.”

“What did it say?”

“I don’t know, I couldn’t make out the writing and I didn’t have much time to study it.”

“Maybe we
should
go up there and look around.” Morgan said. Belladonna let out a loud meow and hopped down from her lap. Morgan watched her walk toward the kitchen, tail swishing high in the air.
 

Just as the cat reached the kitchen doorway, she turned and looked right at Morgan as if to say “Come on. What are you waiting for?” Morgan laughed to herself at her own overactive imagination. The cat wasn’t trying to communicate with her. That was ridiculous … wasn’t it?