Island of Deceit (18 page)

Harper straightened in his seat. “I need names. People who the Stones have robbed? Can you get them for me?”

“I'll try.”

When Cassandra Houston left, Harper ran the Stones' names through other databases before he called the FBI's confidence unit.

It also gave him the connection to Sarah. Sarah had money on her. Five thousand wasn't anything to sneeze at.

 

The next day, after Barbara exercised on Harper's equipment, she drove home. When she got there, Naomi was sitting in her car waiting for her.

She opened her door and climbed out. “Can you get that bag out of the back seat for me and bring it inside?” the older woman asked.

“Of course.”

Barbara retrieved the tote. Naomi was a little slower getting up the steps, but she climbed without assistance.

“Have you been waiting long?” Barbara asked.

“Not long,” she said, breathing hard. “You've got a lovely view from here. I always loved this home.”

“I love it, too. Can I get you something to drink or eat? I have coffee, tea. Even a coffee cake I made earlier.”

“Coffee with cake will hit the spot.”

Barbara set the items on the table and dished up the cake, handing it to Naomi.

“I haven't had coffee cake like this since your grandmother left here,” Naomi said, taking a bite.

“My grandmother?” Barbara asked.

“Yes, I remember Dorsey well. She was closer friends with my sister, Anna, in school. I know she's passed away. She'd written me that she was eager to return here, and that you were going to bring her back to live here with her.”

Barbara nodded.

Naomi laid a hand on hers. Her gentle, caring touch moved Barbara. “I'm glad you decided to move here. You're family and you should be here.”

“I don't have any family left.”

“That's where you're wrong, honey. This is where your ancestors came from. They arrived here almost four hundred years ago. Your history is here. You belong here. Dorsey was my second cousin. Her husband was also a descendent of one of the original islanders.”

Barbara gazed at her. After her grandmother's death, she didn't feel she belonged anywhere, much less had relatives.

“It's one of the reasons I convinced you to work on the Founder's Day committee. I wanted you to gather your family's history and display it. I'll help you, of course. I have lots of information on your grandfather's side, as well as your grandmother's, and I'll give it all to you. When your great-grandmother died, I saved the information for whoever might return to the island. But you're here now and it's all yours.”

“I didn't know that.” Barbara was stunned. “Dorsey didn't believe in dwelling in the past. She never talked about life here.”

“She was young when she left, but your roots are here, honey. I didn't want to bombard you with information as soon as you arrived. But you're also one of the women responsible for the family heirlooms.”

“Family heirlooms?”

“The golden bowl, doubloons, and old coins. You, Alyssa, and Gabrielle are the ones responsible for their fate in this generation. You have to decide who gets it for the next. Anna was responsible for it and she picked the three of you to carry on the torch. But for right now…”

Puzzled, Barbara shook her head. “Wait a minute. I've heard people mention the bowl.”

Naomi explained the heirloom's history. Barbara was astonished that she was part of this amazing history.

“But the one that originally belonged to this family is missing. I just hope we can find it. It's been in the family so long.”

“It's amazing that you've kept it this long.”

“And a shame if it isn't found. But I'm holding out hope that it will be.”

Barbara nodded.

“And I hope you'll be here for Thanksgiving,” Naomi said. “It's always at my house and I'd like you to join us. Of course, this year we're holding it at Cornell's restaurant. It's large enough for the entire family to dine in comfort. I tell you, it's nice having a grandson who owns a restaurant.”

“Thank you for inviting me, but…”

“And, of course, Harper is invited, too. He's going to be here. With all the trouble, he wouldn't dare leave.”

Barbara didn't know that. “I was going to say that my friend from New York is visiting.”

“Bring her, too. Bring anyone you want. What's a few more mouths in my group?”

Tuesday night, impatience seemed to spring from every pore in Trent's body. Nothing pleased him. He'd worked out on his equipment. He'd watched TV until it bored him to tears. He'd even gotten on the phone to talk to his sister and mother, and it made him feel even worse.

He wanted his mother's money and he wanted to move on. The sheriff wasn't watching the house as closely as before. But the man was suspicious of him. He needed to get the money and get out of there fast.

He'd already broken into the Stones' one night and found absolutely nothing. That particular night he noticed Minerva and Elliot strolling across the yard to Mrs. Claxton's house. They talked about the dinner invitation they'd received from her. And as usual, Andrew went into Norfolk. Trent spotted him walking toward the ferry earlier when he was on his way home from work.

Under the cover of darkness, Trent approached the house and slid inside unnoticed. It was easy work getting into the door using his lock picks. Even after the robbery they hadn't done a thing to increase security. Trent chuckled. An amateur could get in there without much effort.

His mother hadn't improved at all. She still refused to get out of bed except to use the rest room and to take baths when his sister forced her. And here the Stones walked around like they were good citizens.

Trent started searching in the bedroom, rifling through the closet, under the bed. His anger built as he shifted the mattresses off and slit them, just in case money was hidden in there.

Ordinarily, he wasn't destructive. His mother wouldn't approve, but the Stones destroyed lives. He felt justified in destroying their belongings. Let them see how it felt to have their home invaded. He knocked lightly on walls for false doors. He looked behind the cheap pictures.

There was nothing in the Stones' bedroom. He went to Andrew's bedroom next and gave it the same treatment, although he didn't expect to find anything there. The house was small. Only two bedrooms. No garage. He checked the living room, the kitchen, and the utility room. The money wasn't anywhere. He even climbed to the attic, pulling down the rickety stairs and shining his penlight on dust bunnies.

He didn't think they had the brains to put money into an offshore bank account or to trust banks that much. Well, if it was there, then somebody had better get it. And he couldn't fathom them burying it in the yard.

Elliot was known for his killer temper. He'd killed a guy back in D.C., but the police never even suspected. He didn't want Elliot on him when he left. The man would definitely come back to D.C. to kill him. Trent had never committed murder and wasn't about to start now.

Frustrated, when he was about to leave, he gazed out the window to make sure no one was about. He saw someone dressed in black hiding in the bushes. He wondered if the person had seen him enter. Too short and overweight to be Andrew. Smaller than Barbara. My God, it was a woman. Could it be Barbara? People looked smaller dressed in black. Did she sneak away from the sheriff to rob the place? Was there a falling out among thieves?

Glancing around, the person started to the door.

Trent made a hasty retreat to the front door. Damn it. He didn't like going out through the front. But he quickly scanned the area, saw that it was clear, and stole out into the night. He made his way around the back and hid in the bushes for a while. In a couple minutes the woman came outside. Trent followed her for a mile to a path. She got in a boat and rowed out a short distance before she started the motor.

The way the woman moved reminded him of Sonya. She was in the bar a couple of times when he went there and they'd had drinks together. So why was she here?

Since Trent was already going in the direction of his house, he continued on home, wondering if this woman had lost money to the Stones, too.

 

Barbara climaxed on a scream.

“I love you,” Harper said, hovering above her.

Shocked, she could only stare at him. They say you could never believe a man's profession of love in the throes of an orgasm, but Barbara believed him. Had felt it even before he said the words.

When she remained silent, Harper moved to the side and gathered her into his arms.

“Harper, don't get serious about me.”

He kissed the side of her mouth. “Baby, it's already too late for that.”

Barbara shifted to look directly at him. “But…I don't even know if I'm going to stay here permanently.”

“Why not?”

“I don't know what I'm going to do. I never promised you I would stay.”

He blew out a long breath. “When are you going to trust me, Barbara?”

“I trust you.”

“Don't lie to me. Don't lie in my arms and lie to me.”

Barbara grabbed the sheet and scrambled to the other side of the bed. Standing, she wrapped the sheet around her. “I'm going home.”

Harper snatched the sheet away, leaving her standing naked—as naked as he was looming before her.

“Coward. You're not going anywhere. You're afraid of something, Barbara. So, if you go home, I'll just have to sit in the damn car in your yard all night instead of getting the sleep I need.”

“I never said…”

“Do you really think you had to?”

Barbara remained silent.

“When are you leaving?”

“I don't know. I'm going to put the salon on the market after the holidays.”

“So you'll be here at least another two, three months?”

“Longer than that. The sale will take a few months. The economy isn't exactly booming.”

“Where are you going when the sale is finalized, back to New York?”

Barbara glanced away. “I don't know.”

“Are you running from something?”

“No.”

Harper blew out a frustrated breath. “Why won't you let me help you?” he entreated.

Barbara looked away. “It's not something you can help me with.”

Frustrated, he approached her. “Is there another man?”

Barbara chuckled. “No, and there hasn't been one in a very long time.”

“Do you have any feelings for me, Barbara?” When she remained silent, he said, “At least give me the truth about that, if nothing else.” Hands on hips, he leaned into her and Barbara felt as if she was a villain on the witness stand. “How do you feel about me?”

A thousand denials flipped through her mind. But in the end, she could give him nothing but the truth. “I love you,” she whispered.

He looked rattled, as if she'd knocked the wind from his sails. A play of emotions crossed his face—elation, uncertainty, and finally frustration. “Then I'll settle for that—for now.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her tenderly before he led her back to bed. Their lovemaking was almost desperate. Tender, wild, thrilling, each giving all, wanting to experience everything there was for as long as what they had lasted.

 

The Claxtons invited the Stones to another dinner with a couple from church. Afterward, Elliot and Minerva walked home.

“She's some cook,” Elliot said.

“I'm some cook. I am so tired. It's been a long night and with Lambert's daughter underfoot, the days are excruciatingly long. I'm ready for bed.”

“Yeah, you are,” Elliot agreed. He wanted to get along tonight. He had plans.

“I thought we'd never get away from that place. It's almost eleven. Naomi just had to tell us a million stories about her grandchildren and the woman who used to live here and about her family. You'd think they were royalty the way she talked,” Minerva said, and Elliot refused to comment on the jealousy in her voice.

He tightened his arms around her. “You know this is part of our research.”

“It must be nice to have a stable home. I know it's paid for. Some people are so lucky. It was probably passed down from her ancestors. She probably never had to work hard a day in her life.”

“She was a teacher, Minerva. Don't you remember her saying so? She taught until she retired. Handling kids isn't easy. You know that.”

“But she's got a nice little piece of money coming in. And that land was handed down to her. Her family probably sent her to college. She never had to scratch the way I did.”

Elliot sighed. “Minerva, you've never had to scratch. You never even worked a paying job before.” Nothing he said was going to appease Minerva, so he just let her get it off her chest.

When she finally wound down, Elliot nuzzled her neck and squeezed her tighter. “Andrew went to Norfolk. It's been a while for us. I can take one of my lucky pills and we can…”

“You can't be acting like lovers out here. We're supposed to be sister and brother, remember?”

“I remember.” He put some space between them.

“I just want sleep tonight,” Minerva muttered. “I'm just too tired for anything else.”

“You're always tired. It's been a while.”

Peeved, Minerva slid him a sideways glance. “Maybe if you had to work, you'd be tired, too. I don't get to sit home and get a midday nap.”

“That's unfair, Minerva. I've done my share of work for this family and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

In a fit of temper, Elliot unlocked the door and went in. He didn't want to make love to her anymore, anyway. If she didn't straighten up, he could go to Norfolk and find himself a willing woman. He had the hots for Barbara, anyway. He was too angry to hold the door for Minerva. If she wanted to be treated like a lady, then she had to be nice to him. He might be old, but he wasn't dead yet.

He flipped on the light. “What the hell?”

“What is it?” Minerva asked, pushing him aside.

“Somebody trashed the damn place.”

Minerva glanced around in shock. “The money. Elliot, they stole the other half of the money! Check the hiding place.”

She rushed to the bedroom with Elliot behind her. She opened the drawer with the false bottom.

“It's gone! My God. All of it's gone.” Minerva staggered back.

Elliot eased down on the damaged bed. His heart was betting so fast he clutched a hand to his chest. What if he hadn't given that money to Barbara?

“What are we going to do?” Minerva repeated. “It's all gone.”

“It's not gone,” he finally said. They certainly would have found the place had the money been there.

Minerva looked at him as if he was crazy. “What are you talking about? It's not where you put it.”

“I gave it to Barbara to invest.”

Minerva swaggered as if he'd hit her. “Against my wishes?”

“Sometimes you don't make sense when you get scared. And if I hadn't given it to her, we'd be flat broke.”

 

Trent was tired of this place. He was going to have to handle things the same way he'd handled them in D.C. Some things were the same no matter where you were. If he had to spend Thanksgiving here, he damn sure wasn't going to spend Christmas. He shuddered at the thought.

He knew that Barbara and Harper spent most nights together, either at his place or hers. Kept him too busy to be checking up on him. He also knew the asshole Andrew spent a lot of time in Norfolk. Without transportation, he usually walked the mile and a half from the ferry to home. Trent found a little pathway nearby to park his vehicle—after Harper and Barbara were well into supper or whatever they were doing for the evening.

Trent was a patient man. He was used to waiting for scum. He took a couple bottles of water and snack food, and he was good to go. He used his binoculars to spot the walkers.

Trent had to get out of the car to piss twice. The asshole waited 'til ten-thirty to get off the ferry. But he was there. Trent got out of the truck and positioned himself at a secluded spot.

When Andrew passed by, he grabbed him, clamping a hand over his mouth. Andrew's mouth moved like a fish beneath Trent's hand.

“You holler, you die,” Trent whispered in his ear. “Nod if you understand.”

Andrew's head swung up and down.

Trent tightened his arm around Andrew's neck, restricting his breathing. “Your family stole something from me and I want it back.”

Andrew tried to nod his head again, but he couldn't move.

“No need to talk. I'll break your freaking arm again and worse if I don't get my money.” He loosened his grip so Andrew could talk.

“What money?”

Trent popped Andrew upside the head and brought out his Glock.

“Oww. Jesus. Please don't kill me.” He tried to move away, but Trent held him in place.

“Shut up.”

“Ain't got no money.”

“Your father does. And I want it back. Every last freaking cent.”

“You the one who shot me?” Andrew asked.

“I wouldn't've just shot you. I would've killed your sorry ass,” Trent told him and meant it. “Your daddy fucked with my mother, and I'm pissed as hell. You got one week. Or I'll kill all of you. Mama, Daddy, and you. Understand?”

Andrew was trembling in his arms. “I…”

“Yes or no.”

“I…I…I understand.”

“And you better not mention me to your mama or daddy or the police or anyone else. You just get my damn money.”

“I…”

Trent tightened his arm around Andrew's neck. “You got that? Yes or no?” He loosened his grip enough for Andrew to speak.

“But…”

“I can kill you right now.” He took the safety off the Glock and pressed it against Andrew's temple. “Or I can get you from ambush any second I want to.”

Andrew fainted, leaving Trent stumbling with the full weight of his body.

Trent shook his head.
Sorry-ass SOB,
he thought, leaning over and slapping the guy to see if he really was out. Andrew didn't move. He was out stone-cold.

Looking around him, Trent stuck the gun in his waistband and made his way back to his SUV.