Island of Deceit (14 page)

When Harper entered his office, his secretary and deputy, John Aldridge, were laughing. There wasn't a damn thing funny about this situation. Not after the crime spree they'd had the last few months.

“Coffee ready?” he asked, just in case he'd have to fix his own.

“John started a pot,” his secretary said.

Harper opened his office door, and scowled. Who was in his…He sighed.

A Kevlar vest perched on his chair as if it were a living, breathing person.

John approached him, grinning. “Thought you needed some protection, Sheriff, now that you're dating.”

“Do I look like I can't handle my woman?” Harper asked. He was twice the size of John. A heck of a lot brawnier, too.

“Ah, no, Sheriff.” Still grinning, John retrieved the vest and carried it to storage.

Harper sighed. The holiday season was coming up fast and the last thing Harper needed was folks afraid to go outside because of some hotshot roaming the island.

Many islanders owned guns. It wasn't like the city with the no-gun push. Before you knew it, islanders would be shooting at each other or at some kid sneaking home through the neighborhood after his parents' curfew.

He thought back, reviewing any new people on the island—Trent, in particular. The cabin owner's brother-in-law had reported gunshots at the outhouse days before Trent arrived. Trent lived near the marsh where Sarah's body was recovered. Could these crimes be connected?

The outhouse had been shot up with a Glock. Andrew had been shot with a .45. The outhouse shooting occurred before Trent arrived.

Harper rubbed his forehead. Two crimes had occurred at the Stones'. First the robbery and now the shooting. Who were these almost invisible people to attract this negative attention?

Robberies didn't occur often on the island. Shootings were rare. Naomi Claxton was known to keep a “little spare change” in the house for emergencies, yet no one had ever robbed her. Of course they'd have Alyssa on their case, and who on the island wanted her breathing down his neck? And Naomi had sons, practically all of whom rose to six five. Then you throw in the countless grandsons and granddaughters. And the fact that everyone knew her husband, Hoyt, owned a shotgun and that Naomi wasn't afraid to shoot it. A thief would reason that she wasn't worth the trouble.

He called John into his office. He wanted him to interview the Stones again. Find out their histories. What kind of work did the old man do? And the son and aunt? What did she do before she became Hughes's caretaker? But he wanted to know where each of them worked before they came to the island. He wanted to know everything.

Usually Harper didn't go after the victims. But the son had robbed, correction,
tried
to take money from Barbara. More than likely this wasn't his first offense. Obviously he'd gotten away with it before. Perhaps the incident with Barbara would convince him to change his ways.

His secretary set a cup of coffee on his desk. Harper waved his thanks.

 

Minerva arrived late for her hair appointment. Had Trent not been there, it would have thrown Barbara's entire day off. He washed hair like a pro. It was obvious he'd worked in a salon for a while, and her customers were pleased with the washes—and him. He'd even had time to do nails.

By the time Harper entered the shop for lunch, heads were under the dryer and Barbara could actually stop for a few minutes. Knowing his appetite and that for some reason he'd stop by, she'd packed an extra chicken salad sandwich with multigrain bread. She'd even added cut-up fruit with a dollop of whipped cream.

“Oh, baby. This is good,” was all Harper said.

Trent talked someone into a manicure and they enjoyed a few minutes of privacy.

Harper sipped bottled water. “You're making me seem cheap, you know?”

Barbara swallowed her food. “How is that?”

“I'm always eating your home-cooked meals. Why don't I bring something by tonight on my way home? Make me feel better? I know you're a fabulous cook and it'll take a lot to even match.”

“The Greasy Spoon isn't the best place for dinner, Harper.”

“I can do better than that.”

“I'm going to be late.”

He glanced in toward the main room, in Trent's direction. “How late?”

Barbara leaned so she wouldn't be overheard. “The news about Trent has spread. I'm getting calls left and right.”

Harper scoffed. “If men only knew,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Don't be ridiculous. Women don't come here to get their groove on. We fix hair and nails here, period.”

“But the men don't know you got some guy feeling up on their wives' and girlfriends' legs.”

“We will not discuss this again. You just never noticed before.”

“I never came in here before, except for interviews.”

“Am I going to have a problem with you?”

Barbara had that no-nonsense look on her face. Harper knew he had better keep his feelings to himself. After all, she already knew how he felt about that guy feeling
her
legs.

“No problem.”

“I don't plan to stop getting pedicures because of your ridiculous bias.”

“That's from your point of view. I don't consider it bias.”

“My point of view is the one that counts.”

“I'm a man protecting his space.” Harper decided reasoning with Barbara would do no good. He'd have a little talk with Trent the next time he saw him. Satisfied, he smiled at Barbara.

Barbara pushed a finger into his chest. “And you had better not approach Trent about my business. If you do, you're toast. Got it?”

Harper held up his hands. “I said I didn't have a problem with him.”

She regarded him suspiciously.

Okay, so this little petty thing with Trent wasn't worth disturbing the waters. Obviously she wasn't romantically interested in the younger man.

“You never told me what time you'll be home.”

“Around seven-thirty.”

“I'll pick up the food and close up with you. How does that sound?”

“Trent will be here.”

“But I'm the sheriff. I'll feel better if you have my protection.”

“Whatever pleases you.”

“I like the sound of that. Wish you would say it more often.” Harper could only manage a small smile, because Barbara didn't go out of her way to please him. She must have been a hell of a business-woman. She let nothing interfere with it.

But there was softness, too. She'd been alone so long, she was accustomed to taking care of business by herself. Keeping her own counsel. It wasn't going to be easy fitting another person in her schedule. He should know. He had that same problem. But most of the women he dated didn't mind his interference.

When he was ready to leave, he leaned over and kissed her.

Elliot sat at the table in IHOP, nursing a cup of coffee. Although he was known for punctuality, Mouse didn't show up for their six-thirty meeting that morning. It wasn't like him not to show and not call either. Elliot had called him several times, but he didn't answer his cell phone. Elliot couldn't wait around too long, since he had to get the car back in time for Minerva to go to work.

It was now almost time for her to get off work and Elliot had beef stew simmering in the oven. He finally had time to read the newspaper. Spreading it out, he started with the first page. When he got to the local news, his eyes widened. Mouse had been in an accident.

“What the hell?”

Andrew appeared from the living room. “What is it?”

“Mouse is dead.”

Puzzled, he asked, “Who's Mouse?”

Mouse had been killed in a car crash the previous day. Hit-and-run with a stolen car. Elliot laid the paper down. He couldn't believe it. Mouse was dead.

Andrew shifted uneasily. “Who's Mouse?” he repeated.

“The guy I hired to find our money.”

“And he's dead?”

“We were supposed to meet this morning and he never showed up. Said yesterday he'd found something.”

“You think that's why he's dead? That the person who stole our money killed him?”

Wearily, Elliot swiped his hand across his face. “I don't know.” But he didn't like this one bit.

When Elliot heard Minerva's tires squeal in the driveway and a rush of footsteps, he wondered if something else had happened. He yanked the door open and she rushed inside like her coattail was on fire.

“What's wrong?”

“Elliot…” Her mouth worked, but words didn't come out. She dropped her purse on the floor.

“Calm down. What's going on?” he asked, hearing Andrew moving beside him as he moved to the table and settled Minerva on a chair. She usually kept her head during a crisis, but with everything going on…

“I almost got fired today,” she finally said.

“Fired? What the hell did you do? All you gotta do is sit with the guy and fix his food,” he blasted. “Damn it, any nitwit can do that.”

Her eyes snapped daggers. “I'm not a nitwit, Elliot. Stop talking to me like that. I didn't do nothing! Lambert's daughter showed up out of the blue and tried to fire me on the spot.”

“You talk to her three, four times a week. I thought she liked you.”

“So did I. I don't understand it.”

Tiredly, Elliot rubbed the back of his neck. Mouse was dead. And now this. “So you're out of a job?”

“Lambert wouldn't let her. He said he was very pleased with my services and didn't want anyone else. But his daughter said her brother is arriving soon and he's got to move to California with her.” Minerva wilted in her chair. “Elliot, what's going on? First, we're robbed. Then Andrew's shot. Now I'm on the verge of losing my job for no good reason.”

“The man Daddy hired to find our money died, too.”

Minerva's eyes widened. “What?”

“Don't get your panties in a twist. He died in an accident.” He couldn't deal with Minerva's hysterics. He had enough worry for the two of them.

She squinted. “Do you think someone from our past is hunting us down?”

“These people have nothing to do with our past. Somebody's been running his mouth.” He glared at Andrew. “Did you tell anybody we were moving here? One of your friends back in Philly?”

“Not me,” Andrew said, shaking his head.

Elliot leveled a glare at Minerva.

Minerva threw him a glance. “Who would I tell, Elliot? Don't be ridiculous. Nobody even knew we were moving here.”

“This whole damn thing is falling apart.” He wondered what information Mouse had gathered. And if he'd actually retrieved the money.

“Maybe we should leave,” Minerva suggested. “I've got a bad feeling about this place. Especially after what happened with that old woman Dorsey. She was spying on us that day. Do you think she told anybody?”

“She didn't get a chance to. I followed her home. Caught up to her and tailed her without her even knowing it. And I know she didn't get to talk to anybody once she got there.”

Minerva twisted her hands in her lap. “We never had this much trouble before. This place is small. It should have been a piece of cake.”

“That's why it'll work out. Their police department is nearly nonexistent.”

“I don't know,” Minerva said slowly. “The sheriff is snooping, although he likes to make us believe he's slow, he's got something up his sleeve. That's why I want to retire from this business. I don't want to end up in jail at my age.”

“Be serious. If we can get away with it in Philly where they got a real police force, you really think they can do anything in this cowpoke town?”

“They don't have as much crime here,” Minerva said. “They got time to concentrate on just one case. Philly is riddled with crime.”

“Our names are clean.” He leveled a look at Andrew. “You talk to Sonya lately, boy?”

“Over the weekend, when the old man she's taking care of went to dinner with his family. She still says she can't do nothing 'til close to Christmas. Too many kinfolks nosing around. But they trust her and he likes her.” He shrugged. “Things there should turn out okay.”

Elliot scratched his head. Minerva had a point. If he hadn't put down six months' deposit when they'd arrived, he'd pack their bags and leave right now. But the old man was loaded. They'd lost half their money. Lambert, alone, could make up most of the difference. And Elliot could never get Minerva to work another job. Talking her into doing this one was hard enough. And he was tired of doing them himself. They were getting too dangerous. He'd promised Minerva this would be their last one.

“Andrew, I want to know what's going on.”

“Nothing, Daddy.”

“Boy, if I find out you're lying to me, I'll knock you into next year.”

“Daddy, all I do is hang out at the bar playing pool.”

“You been meeting with Sonya?”

“Sonya? She's not here.”

“Tell the truth. She's the only one who coulda known about that money.”

“I'm telling the truth. She's not here. I woulda told you if she was. I'm part of this family, too.”

“Then she's here on her own.”

“That's not true.”

“It's got to be her. There's no other explanation. No one else woulda thought to look under all that junk.”

“I've been thinking that, too,” Minerva said.

“We can get Barbara to invest the money we have left,” Elliot said. “I don't see any other alternative. She said we could double, even triple our profits.”

“How can you even think of doing business with that woman?” Andrew cried. “After what she did to me?”

“Quiet,” Elliot snapped. “This is business. We can't afford to let personal grievances interfere. We're between a rock and a hard place here. We've got to come up with something. I'm ready to leave the country. Too much mess is happening here. And now that Mouse is dead, we can't count on getting our money back.”

“We left some places just in the nick of time. A few of the families tried to threaten us.” Minerva scrunched up her face. “You think somebody hired someone? Or decided to come after us?” she asked. “Maybe that's why Andrew was shot. Sonya wouldn't have shot him.”

Elliot paced from the fridge to the stove. “I don't think so. We've changed our names too many times. But who can tell? But Barbara is dating the sheriff. He looks like a straight shooter. If she had something to hide, she'd stay clear of him.”

“So you really think we can trust her?” Minerva asked skeptically.

“Yeah, but in the meantime, you keep going to your job and putting on a good face. I'll call Barbara at the shop about a write-up on this stock she's talking about. At least we can do some Internet research to see if it's legit and if this company is really going to buy the other one out.”

“She's got some guy working for her now,” Minerva said. “He washes hair and does nails. Does a good job, too.”

Elliot shook his head. “Like I said a dozen times, that woman's making money hand over fist,” he said, throwing a narrowed glance toward his son. “You could've been working there, Andrew. At least washing the hair if nothing else.”

“I never worked in a beauty parlor,” Andrew said.

“You act like you can't learn. She coulda taught you how to wash hair. You wash your own. How hard can it be?” Elliot shook his head. “Boy, you just won't do right. Ya couldn't see a good thing if it hit you in the face.” He sighed. “Let's keep our eyes peeled for Sonya. I've got a feeling she's right under our noses, or else she hired someone. She knows too much about us.”

 

Barbara's last customer was Vanetta. Lisa had scheduled an appointment for her after everyone else had left. Barbara had even sent Trent home for the evening.

“How have you been, Vanetta?”

“Fine. Thank you for taking me so late.”

“Anytime. And, Miss Lisa, how is your business plan coming?”

“I don't know. I haven't done much with it.”

“She's been nagging me so much about doing things and to have my hair done, she doesn't have time to take care of herself,” Vanetta said. “I told her she should get busy on it.”

“You need to get out of the house. And you know if your hair isn't fixed properly you'd use it as an excuse not to mix among folks,” Lisa said. “There's a function in Virginia Beach this weekend. The two of us can go. I know you like going there. At least you used to.”

“I haven't been in the mood lately,” Vanetta said.

“You don't have to be in the mood to go.”

“You'll feel better if you get out,” Barbara said softly. “Staying in the house can be depressing. I know it's difficult in the beginning, but as time passes, and I know it's disturbing to hear people say this, but time does heal.”

“See, Vanetta?” Lisa said with a smug nod. “That's the same thing I've been telling you. If you don't believe me, you can believe Barbara.”

Vanetta sniffed. “I appreciate you sticking by me, Lisa. You've got better things to do than waste your time on me.”

“That's not true, Van. I love you. You're my sister.”

Barbara's heart saddened. People could deride Lisa, but she was really sticking by Vanetta. It was nice to have family, somebody to be there when the going got too tough to bear. Money didn't begin to make up the difference. Vanetta had money. The good thing was she had family, too.

Barbara patted Vanetta's shoulder and continued working with her hair. Vanetta was another example of the havoc men caused in women's lives.

So why did she look forward to seeing Harper every day when she got off work? He'd been showing up on a regular basis, and her heart gladdened every time she saw him.

Vanetta and Lisa were talking again about Lisa starting her business and Barbara tuned in on the conversation.

Her house needed a good cleaning, and even though Lisa was a little over the top, everyone said she did a wonderful job of cleaning and stayed out of your business. In New York, Barbara had a regular cleaning lady who came by every two weeks. She'd been doing it herself since she arrived on the island. There really wasn't a cleaning service, although people hired by word of mouth.

“Lisa, I've been wondering if you can clean my house before Thanksgiving. Do you take outside jobs?”

“Sometimes on my days off.”

“See, Lisa? I told you people needed your services, but would you listen to me?” Vanetta said. “Jordan will be moving to the island as soon as that huge house is finished. He's going to need a cleaning crew. Not just one person. And there are others, too, who would like to hire someone on a regular basis. There are the summer people who'd like their place dusted once a month. All of it can add up to a thriving business.”

“Vanetta,” Lisa said with a sigh. “I told you I don't know a thing about business.”

“And I told you, you can learn, and I'll help you.”

“We're back to the money again.”

“You know I'll help you financially. If Matthew did nothing else, he left enough money for me to more than survive for the rest of my life.”

“But Jordan wants you to work in his office while he's away building those hotels.”

“He already has a manager at the one in Virginia Beach.”

“I don't know.”

Barbara had heard disparaging talk about Lisa. But Lisa had probably been knocked down so many times, it was hard to get back up and fight. She didn't trust herself anymore.

“I could teach you everything you need to know. I had a double major and one of them was business,” Vanetta said.

“We'll see.”

Barbara finished working the perm in Vanetta's hair and guided her to the shampoo bowl. She washed the perm out and deep conditioned her hair, putting Vanetta under the dryer hood for a few minutes for treatment.

Lisa went outside to take a smoke.

Barbara was in the process of looking at tomorrow's schedule when Elliot called, asking about information on the stock she'd mentioned before the drama with Andrew. Just in case Lisa returned before she finished the conversation, she went to the kitchen and closed the door behind her. Her heart pounded in her chest. She took deep breaths to calm herself before going on with the conversation.

“Elliot, I gave you that information because Andrew and I were dating and I thought I could trust you. I wasn't supposed to. I can't even talk about this over the phone,” she informed him in hushed tones.

“I understand. I know things didn't work out with you and Andrew, and I can't tell you how sorry I am about that, but I just wanted a little more information about that stock.”