Island of Deceit (25 page)

She called Liane.

“Harper doesn't want you going out.”

“It's just on the island, and he even said Sonja and Boyd probably aren't here.”

“But still…”

“I'll go by myself if you're afraid.”

“I can't let you do that.”

“Either way, I'm going.”

In five minutes they were backing out the driveway but came up short when someone pointed a gun at Barbara's head. “Open the door,” she said.

Barbara had never seen the woman before. Could this be Sonya?

“Should we make a run for it?” Liane whispered, still backing up.

The gun shot the side-view mirror off, making their decision for them.

“Stop the car and open the damn door,” Sonya yelled. “Or the next one will be in you.”

Liane stopped and popped the lock.

The woman opened the door wide. “Okay, smart-ass, get out.”

“Wh—”

“If I want sass from you, I'll ask for it. Get out of here.”

“Just go, Liane,” Barbara said.

“You get in that driver's seat,” she said to Barbara.

“She can't drive,” Liane responded.

“She's driving tonight. Get yourself behind that wheel.”

Barbara got out, walked around the car, and slid behind the wheel.

“Where are we going?” she asked. “Why do you need me?”

Sonya pointed the gun at her. “You've got some money I need.”

“The bank isn't open this time of night.”

“I'm not looking for a few hundred in cash. Those investments you made with Elliot. I want you to cash 'em in. I need that money,” she said with a desperate air. “That cheap-ass sonofabitch. We ain't got all day. Get moving.”

“To where?”

“We're leaving this island.”

“You want me to go to the dock?”

“Hell no.”

“Where am I supposed to drive?”

“Toward your house.”

Was this woman crazy or what? The first place Harper would look was her house.

 

Harper drove along the ocean road, but he didn't use his blinkers. Halfway between Hughes's place and Barbara's, he turned his lights off and looked toward the ocean to see what was there. Sure enough, not far from the Hughes place there was a small boat pulling in to shore. There was a light on it shining into the darkness.

Harper got into his car and called for backup, just in case. There was one figure and he pulled the boat to shore, stowing it in the tall grass. Dressed in black, he stealthily made his way down the beach as Harper unhooked his gun and advanced. Was he going to break into Barbara's house, or Hughes's?

To the right was marsh and to the left was sand. He veered toward the right.

Harper moved forward. He heard cars approaching in back of him and veered toward the bushes in the marsh for cover. Harper was almost on him when he turned back toward the boat.

He pointed his high-beam flashlight at him. “This is the police. Raise your hands,” he called out.

Someone took off in a run and Harper streaked after him, catching up to him just as he dragged the boat to the water. Advancing on him, he saw something point toward him; he ducked and dived just as a shot rang out. Harper rolled on his side and fired, police academy style, holding the gun in both hands.

Someone ducked behind the boat, quickly pulling it toward the water, but Harper peppered the boat with shots until the perp ran toward the marsh, taking cover in the tall grass. Picking himself up, Harper charged after him.

He couldn't point the light or use himself as a target, so he scurried around in the dark.

“Harp?” Alyssa called out.

“Over here.”

Alyssa approached. They could only hear the wind, the waves, and the swaying of branches. They stood still, trying to assess where the perp went and accustom their eyes to the night.

Several minutes passed before they heard movement.

Both he and Alyssa advanced stealthily through the mud and bushes.

He must have heard them, because he ran like a rabbit. Alyssa and Harper charged after him. The perp turned, and Alyssa and Harper ducked as a bullet whizzed by. They returned fire and the guy dove in the mud, giving them an opportunity to get closer.

Finally, they pinned him down.

“Okay…Don't shoot. I'm coming out.”

“Hands in the air,” Harper called out.

He stood gingerly. They could barely see him against the darkness of the night.

Quickly, they cuffed him, walking him back to shore.

“Boyd Xavier, I presume.”

The man didn't speak.

“Where's Sonya?” Harper asked.

“I'm not saying anything until I see my lawyer.” Boyd was bleeding, but it wasn't a major hit.

Alyssa read Boyd his rights, put him in her back seat, and slammed the door. “Doc's going to love this,” she said.

“Harper?” the dispatcher's voice came over his radio.

Harper responded. “What is it?”

“That Sonya woman just took Barbara.”

Barbara saw flashing lights ahead.

“Turn onto that path,” Sonya said. “And cut those lights.”

“It's pitch black out here. I can't see if I turn the lights off.”

“Cut those lights or I'll shoot you this minute and do it myself.”

Barbara switched the lights off and made a left onto the path, driving gingerly down the rutted road. She could barely make her way, it was so dark.

“Just drive far enough that they don't see you when they pass.”

Barbara stopped the car with the engine idling.
God, please let Harper look this way.

“Why did you kill Elliot?” she asked.

“You ask too many questions.”

So she did kill him. Barbara shivered. Boyd wasn't much, but she couldn't fathom him committing murder. Did this woman trick him? Was he so head over heels in love with her that he'd do anything for her? Did he even know what she was doing?

“They're gone. Back out to the road,” Sonya said.

Barbara flipped the lights on and backed out, wondering if she was going to live through the night.

“Park near your house,” Sonya said.

When Barbara complied, she ordered, “Now get out.”

Barbara found herself wading along the beach, through the tall marsh grass, the water soaking through her shoes. Her shoulder started to ache.

“Move faster.”

“I can't. You shot me, remember?”

“Get your butt into gear,” she said, looking around.

Before, Barbara walked along the beach without even getting winded. What a difference a bullet and a few weeks made. She trudged ahead, every bone in her body aching. They finally made it to a boat pulled to shore.

Sonya flashed a light on it. “Get in.”

Barbara glanced around, hoping to hear sirens and cars coming back, but nothing. She climbed in.

Sonya got in with her. “Damn it. Can't anything go right in this freaking place?”

There was no motor on the boat.

“What did he do? Take the damn thing with him? Get out,” Sonya barked.

Thank God.

 

Harper was out of his mind with worry that Barbara would be another of Sonya's victims. Clearly she didn't have a problem with murdering people. He'd notified the coast guard to watch for boats leaving the island. He'd gotten his dispatcher to call all the part-time officers in for the search, as well as the citizen's police, which numbered more than their tiny department.

Alyssa met Harper on his way to interview Boyd.

“Jordan just called. He put out a reward for Naomi's golden bowl and someone just called him with an offer.”

“Why am I just hearing about this reward?”

“Because I'm just hearing about it.”

“You deal with Jordan.”

“The bowl can wait. Barbara's more important.”

“I'm banking on them still being on the island. I'm going to check the area where we left the boat,” Harper said. “You check the artist colony. Sonya should have more sense than to go there, but we have to cover all the bases.”

Harper had Boyd brought to the interrogation room. “Where is Sonya taking Barbara?”

“I don't know. I was following her but lost her on my way here.”

“I'm supposed to believe that?”

“Look, she's been very secretive lately. I wanted to know what was going on.”

“Listen here, scumbag. You're already an accessory to two murders.”

“I didn't murder anyone. And where did you get two from?”

Harper got in his face. “So you're admitting to one? Don't forget Sarah Rhodes….”

“I didn't know anything about that. It was probably Elliot's doing. Look, man,” he stammered. “I wasn't even here when that happened.”

“You're an accomplice. That means you'll get the same punishment as Sonya.”

“I'm telling you I didn't kill anyone.”

“What about the gun? The same gun was used to shoot Barbara and Elliot.”

Boyd grabbed a shaky breath. “She told me she shot Barbara by mistake. She was aiming for Elliot. But Sonya lost the gun. If she shot Elliot, it wasn't with that gun.”

“Lost the gun?” Harper asked, incredulous.

“I know it sounds ridiculous, but she lost it when she was trying to get away.” Boyd scrubbed a hand across his face. “I'm telling you the truth. I don't know where she's taking Barbara. I didn't know she was going to kidnap her.”

“That's the best you can do?”

“I'm telling you everything. I've never been mixed up in stuff like this. I've never hurt anybody in my life. I don't even know how I let myself get involved. But I didn't kill anybody.”

“Tell it to the judge.”

When Harper stormed out, Boyd was still screaming his innocence.

But was he lying? Had Sonya lost the gun? If so, who killed Elliot? Who had anything to gain? The gun was wiped clean of fingerprints. Would Sonya have taken the time when the gun was still in her possession? Then, too, she could have ditched the gun without telling Boyd. Seems he wasn't really in her confidence after all.

And then there was Trent. Barbara had an ulterior motive for being here, so could he.

But Trent didn't kidnap Barbara, and she was shot while he was on the ferry. No. Maybe he didn't like Trent, but his focus was on Sonya.

“Lambert saw lights near the boat again.”

Harper couldn't brush it away as just a crazy old man. The first time he'd said he'd seen lights, they were definitely there.

“Let's go.”

 

“Why don't we just go to my house?” Barbara asked Sonya.

“You think I'm crazy?”

Barbara thought she was. “I'm tired. I can't go much farther without rest. And if I have a relapse, you can forget about getting any money.”

“Shut up and let me think. Just keep moving to the car.”

Sonya was breathing hard behind her. If Barbara had kept up her walking regimen and hadn't been shot, she could easily lose Sonya. But she had been shot, and she hadn't exercised since then. She was ready to collapse at Sonya's feet, but she couldn't give up. Never.

The car was still shrouded in the trees. Barbara got in on the driver's side. Sonya opened her door and hefted herself up on the seat. Before Sonya could get into position, Barbara pushed the red emergency “OnStar” button and hopped out, fell to the ground, and shut the door at the same time. Hovering close to the ground, she dived into the trees. Bullets peppered the air around her, but Barbara kept running.

“Get your ass back here or I'm going to kill you,” Sonya yelled.

Fat chance. Barbara didn't stop long enough to consider giving up. She hurt all over, but especially where she'd been shot. She knew she was moving slower than Sonya. Every footstep was leaden. Sonya had stopped shooting, maybe to reload, and was gaining on her. Barbara stopped and hid behind a knarled oak, its branches picked as bare as a chicken bone.

“Damn it. Don't make me keep running after you,” Sonya yelled.

Barbara clutched a hand to her heart, gathering huge breaths. What to do? If she moved, the ground cover would crackle like popcorn. Whatever people believed, you couldn't move quietly through a dense forest. She heard twigs snapping, underbrush rustling every time Sonya moved—and she was moving closer by the second. Barbara had to get out of there.

She looked for a branch big enough to use as a weapon. Finding one, she quickly grabbed it and darted off.

She must have reloaded. Bullets sprayed again. One hit a branch that fell on Barbara. She swiped it away.

“Move and I'll kill you.”

Barbara froze. Sonya was right behind her.

“I ought to kill you anyway for making me run this way.”

Barbara was too winded to talk. She hid the stick at her side and hoped it was too dark for Sonya to see.

“Now lead the way back to the truck. And don't try any tricks,” Sonya ordered.

To tell the truth, Barbara just walked. She didn't know which direction the truck was, but neither did Sonya.

“I mean what I said.”

They'd walked several yards when Barbara bumped into a tree. “Umph.”

“Watch where you're going.”

“I can't see.”

“Keep going,” Sonya urged.

Barbara went a few feet before she tripped.

“What the hell's wrong with you?”

“If you can see better than I can, you lead the way.”

“If you hadn't acted so stupid, we'd be in the truck. Now get yourself into gear.”

Barbara picked herself up, making sure to keep hold of the stick. Sonya bent to rest. Barbara stood and swung with all the strength she had left. Sonya dropped the gun and Barbara took off running again.

“Damn it. I'm gonna kill your ass this time. You hear me, bitch? Fuck the money.”

She'd obviously stopped long enough to retrieve the gun, but Barbara kept running, although she didn't know where the heck she was going.

Sonya found the gun. Bullets started firing, but Barbara ran and ran until she plowed into a solid wall.

And screamed.

A hand covered her mouth. It took her a few seconds to realize the wall was Harper's chest. He eased her behind him.

“Barbara?” Sonya's voice blasted the night air. “What the hell's going on? Barbara?”

Barbara struggled to catch her breath. She was standing next to another of those knarled oaks and scrunched down behind it.

A few more bullets peppered the air as Harper moved away.

Barbara wanted to scream for him to be careful, but the sound would carry. So she did what her grandmother taught her from an early age. She prayed.

She is safe.
That was the litany running through Harper's mind. That she was unharmed.

He'd heard the bullets when he got out of the car near Barbara's house just before the OnStar people notified them, directing them to Barbara's location. Seconds later, he found his truck, with no Barbara. His worst fear was that she was already dead.

He stood beside a tree as Sonya slowly came toward him.

“Barbara?” Sonya called out. “I'm not going to kill you. Okay? I need that money. I'll let you go as soon as I get it. I didn't kill Elliot. I don't know who did.”

Sure she didn't, Harper thought. As if anyone was fool enough to believe that. She was almost beside him now. Close enough for him to touch. He gave her a single chop on the neck and slammed her to the ground.

“Police,” he said belatedly. “You're under arrest.” In seconds he cuffed her and dragged her to her feet. He retrieved her gun where she'd dropped it, then read her her rights.

“I didn't kill Elliot. I can prove I wasn't even here when he was killed.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Harper said. “That's what every murderer says.”

“Harper?” Barbara called out.

“I've got her.”

“Thank God.”

 

Harper had dragged Doc out of bed to check Barbara thoroughly before he'd take her home. With some painkillers in her system, she'd slept through the rest of the night.

“We arrested your ex last night,” Harper told Barbara while she dressed for breakfast. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

She smiled up at him. “Fantastic.”

“After the night you had?”

“I'm alive.”

He kissed her. “And gorgeous as ever.”

She felt all hot inside when he said things like that.

“I'm going to work after breakfast. I want you to take it easy today.”

“Liane won't let me do anything.”

“That's the way it should be,” he said with a satisfied grin.

“You are too much, Harper.”

“Uh-huh. But you love it.”

“Yeah, I do.” Since her shoulder was throbbing, he helped her dress.

“It's hard to believe that Boyd really came here. I want to see him.”

“Are you crazy?”

“I have a right to know why he tried to kill me.”

“You're not seeing him,” Harper said with a finality that would have a lesser woman retreating.

“Why not?”

“You're sick.”

“Harper, don't be ridiculous. Sonya had me trouping all over this place.”

“Which is why you need to rest now.”

“Harper…”

“Damn it, Barbara.” He jerked the door open. “Come on.”

“Can't we have breakfast first?”

 

Harper shook his head. “I can't believe I let you get away with this,” he said as he drove Barbara to the jail.

“I've got a right to know why he tried to kill me.”

“You're getting away with too much. You always get your way.”

“I never understood the male species. And you haven't done anything for me to change my opinion.”

“Don't even think about lumping me in with everyone else.”

They arrived at the jail and went inside. Harper escorted Barbara to the visiting area. A screen separated Barbara from Boyd.

“I want to know why,” Barbara said.

“Why what?” Boyd asked with the same sullen look she remembered so well.

“Why did you try to kill me?”

“I didn't.”

“They've got shoes, fingerprints, and the gun. You were at my house. You may as well tell me.”

“I didn't shoot you.”

“Why did you get your girlfriend to do it? I'm nothing to her.”

Boyd remained silent.

“You know you're the same sullen boy who was too lazy to work for what you wanted fifteen years ago. You haven't changed a bit.”

“If you say so,” he said with a bored air.

“Why Dorsey? She never hurt you.”

“Elliot killed Dorsey,” he whispered.

“But Sonya says you led him to her.”

He leaned forward and whispered again. “You had enough money to spare.”

“You killed my grandmother for money?” Barbara wanted to jump through the partition and wring his neck. “I hope you rot in hell.”