Island of Deceit (5 page)

“I loaned you a hundred dollars a week ago. You spent it already?” She was not giving that sonofabitch another red cent. The first loan had nearly killed her.

“How long do you expect a hundred bucks to last?” he asked. “I spent that in no time. I'll pay you back when I get some money.”

Like never. “I have my own bills to pay and the month has been slow.”

“You work from sunup to sundown at this place. You've got to be raking in the money.”

“That's none of your business,” she said, nudging him toward the door. “It's been a long day and I was on my way home.”

“All I'm asking for is a small loan. I've taken you out to dinner. Showed you a couple nice evenings. Woman, you're not cheap, you know. You cost me all the money Daddy gave me last night just to pay for your dinner.”

“And I've cooked you a fine meal. But I didn't ask for payment for services rendered.” He had some nerve. She opened the door. “It's time for you to leave. Like I said, I have a meeting. Maybe you should consider getting a job.”

His brows slammed together. “Listen here. No reason you can't give me that money. You're lucky I'm taking time out for you. Look at yourself. I try to overlook a few extra pounds. Not all men are that generous. Now you get over there and get me some of that money.”

She pointed to the opening in the door. “Get out of my shop. Now.”

Before she could see what was coming, he slapped her face so hard her head reared back with the impact. She balled her hands into fists.

“Are you crazy?”

“Don't even think of hitting me,” he said, leaning close. “I'll whip your tail good for back talking me. You get yourself to that cash register and get me that money. I'll take everything you earned today. Teach you a lesson to get smart with me. Who do you think you are? As a matter of fact, I'll keep the books from now on.”

Barbara's eyes widened. Her cheek throbbed and the pain in her head escalated until it pounded with her heartbeat. But the pain didn't touch the rage sizzling through her. Andrew was a damn idiot if he thought she'd let him get away with hitting her. No damn body hit her.
Nobody.

Barbara breathed deeply. “Just give me a minute. The money's in back,” she said with amazing calm.

“Hurry up.” He whacked her on the backside.

Fury almost choked Barbara. He definitely needed to be taught a lesson and she was just the one to do it. Tell her she was lucky to have him. And he actually thought she'd let him control her money! A thirty-five-year-old man who couldn't even stand up to his father? Who didn't even work?

Damn it. Her cheek throbbed and her head exploded.

“Hurry up,” he shouted.

With quick steps, she made her way to the storage room/kitchen combination. It took her only seconds to find what she needed. “I can't open the drawer. It sticks sometimes in this damp weather,” she called out.

“You're about as helpless as they come.” Grumbling, he approached her. Barbara moved to the side and got into position. As soon as he poked through the door, she swung the bat and hit him—and heard the bone in his arm crack with the impact.

He howled and she hit him again. Screaming curses, he fell to the floor, rolling and thrashing about.

Barbara stood over him, the bat ready to swing.

“You crazy bitch.”

“Shut up,” she shouted.

He quieted, his eyes buggy and wide with pain.

“Just a warning for the future. Fat doesn't equate with stupid or helpless.”

He groaned.

“Shut up. I'm not finished. You are one sorry excuse for a man. The way I see it, I'm a better catch than you. I can support myself. I don't go begging to you or anybody else for money. You should be grateful I spend time with you. Remember that the next time you take a decent sista out.”

She picked up the wall phone.

“If you so much as breathe aloud while I'm on the phone, I'll break your other arm. And you know I will.” She dialed 911.

When the dispatcher came on, Barbara inhaled. “Oh, my God. I'm being robbed. Help me, please!”

“Ma'am, tell me who you are and your location.”

“Barbara Turner at the beauty salon.” She rattled off the address.

“Barbara, are you okay? Are you hurt? This is Shirley.” Shirley Langley was one of Barbara's customers.

“Not yet, but I'm scared for my life. He may get up and kill me. Please send help! I don't know what to do.”

“Just hold on, honey. Someone will be there soon. Stay on the line with me. Can you get to a safe location?”

“If I move, he may get a gun and try something. Just get somebody here fast.”

Andrew started to get up. Barbara gripped the bat and glared at him, daring him to move, daring him to speak. With a moan, his head thumped on the floor.

 

Harper was getting ready to leave for the Greasy Spoon. When he heard the report of the robbery, he hopped out of his seat so fast, he got dizzy. “What the hell's going on?” he asked the dispatcher. “Is she hurt?”

“She said she isn't, but she's afraid. She keeps a lot of money there, Harper, with all the heads she does.”

He had to catch himself. “Anyone at the salon yet?”

“John is on his way.”

“So am I,” he said, rushing out the door.

He couldn't believe it. On his island, the woman he'd been pining for for months had been robbed. He turned on the siren and burned rubber out of the parking lot. He was only a short distance away, but it might as well have been a hundred miles the way that worst-case scenarios were zinging through his head.

He parked near John's patrol car and slammed out the door, mere footsteps behind John.

Both of them came up short when they spied the squirming man on the floor and Barbara with the bat standing guard over him.

“Ma'am, we'll take it from here,” John said.

Barbara lowered the bat and used it for support as she took several steps back. Her gaze met Harper's in a nervous gesture. Suddenly, she got all fluttery.

Andrew managed to stand, but he kept well away from Barbara.

“What happened?” Harper asked.

“He tried to rob me. I was closing up shop when he came by. I thought he just wanted to talk, so I opened the door. But he threatened me and tried to force me to give him today's receipts.” Her hands were trembling as she placed one to her chest. She approached Harper with tears glistening in her eyes. “When I refused, he attacked me.”

“His arm's broken,” John said. “And his shoulder might be dislocated.”

“I didn't attack her…” Andrew started.

“Call Doc,” Harper told John, “and tell her we're bringing him in.” Then he focused on Barbara again.

“That crazy bitch,” Andrew screamed. “She…she broke my arm.”

“Shut up,” John said.

“I had to protect myself. Look at my cheek. He hit me hard and my face is swollen. And it hurts,” Barbara countered.

On closer inspection, her cheek was a little red and puffed. He wanted to knock the hell out of the man for touching Barbara, but Andrew was bawling over his arm.

“I wasn't trying to rob her. I asked for a loan. That's all it was and she made it into a big deal.”

“He hit me and told me I had better bring him all the money I made today. Does that sound like asking for loan? If that isn't robbery, I don't know what is,” Barbara said, her voice gaining strength. “It wasn't a choice. I work too hard to just give money away like that.”

“You damn straight you do,” John said.

“She broke my fucking arm!” Andrew screamed.

“I have a right to protect my person and my business. I don't stand on my feet nine hours a day for my money to be taken without my consent,” Barbara continued, tears forgotten.

“Mirandize him,” Harper told John, and he did.

“Are you saying you didn't hit her?” Harper asked Andrew.

“She was mouthing off at me. Man got a right to put his woman in her place.”

“You see? He's got no right to strike me. Look at him. He's taller and stronger than I am. I can't fight a man hand to hand.”

“Be quiet. Both of you,” Harper said. “We'll take both of your statements. Take him to the clinic, John,” Harper said, then peered closely at Barbara's face. “Do you need to go, too?”

“No,” she said. “I'll put ice on it when I get home.”

He glared at Barbara. “Did he take anything?”

“I stopped him. As soon as I could, I got some protection and used it on him. But he hit me first.”

“I just slapped her with my hand. I didn't knock her out. And I didn't break anything.”

“You had no business slapping her,” John said. “That's assault.”

“Will any of his fingerprints be on the money?”

“No, like I said. I stopped him before he could take it.”

Harper nodded. “I'll take you to the station and you can charge him for attempted robbery and assault.”

“That's not fair,” Andrew wailed.

“Think about that next time you try to rob someone,” John said.

“I can drive,” Barbara told Harper.

Harper quirked an eyebrow. “You sure?” Of course she was sure. She beat the heck out of her boyfriend, didn't she? “I'll just wait outside for you to lock up.”

Outside, a couple of spectators had stopped and Harper sent them on their way. He leaned against his car, and waited for Barbara to lock the door and get in her car. His anger simmered as he followed her to the station.

Behind the wheel of her car, Barbara seethed. It couldn't have gone better if she'd planned it. She was reeling Elliot in. She could tell he was very interested in the investments. And now this.

She'd wanted to take the bat and beat the living hell out of Andrew. When she parked in front of the station and got out, Harper caught up with her at the door and took her in back for her statement.

“Okay,” he said, “let's start from the beginning.”

“I was getting ready to leave because I have a meeting with the Founder's Day committee tonight. Mrs. Claxton put me on it.”

“She must have accepted you in the fold, then. That's a real honor,” Harper said. “What happened next?”

“Andrew showed up at the door. We didn't have a date tonight, so I didn't understand why he was there.” She didn't have to lie. Andrew had admitted to slapping her and he'd attempted to take her money. He'd just failed.

By the time they finished, Elliot had arrived at the station.

“I'm real sorry about this, Barbara,” Elliot said with contrition and sympathy. “It never occurred to me he'd do such a thing.”

Barbara summoned up tears and let them spill over. “I thought he was a nice young man. It never…It was so frightening. You have no idea how stressful the ordeal was.”

Elliot patted her hand. “I know. But…” He cleared his throat. “If you can find it in yourself not to press charges, I'll see to it he'll never bother you again. Boy's too dumb to know a good thing when he sees it.”

Barbara wanted them to arrest Andrew and throw away the key, but she couldn't have him arrested. As much as it went against the grain, she had to let him go. She only hoped he'd learned his lesson, but she knew better. His kind didn't change. Look at his father. What kind of role model did he have?

“You don't think he'll come after me?” she asked Elliot, her eyes wide and feigning fear.

“I'll see to it he doesn't bother you again.”

Leave it to a man to screw up a good plan.

Barbara nodded. “Well, in that case…if you're sure.”

He patted her hand. “I'm sure.”

Elliot left and Barbara told Harper she wasn't going to press charges.

“What do you mean not press charges?” he snapped. “This is an attempted robbery and assault.” Harper was looking at her strangely, but what could she do? Barbara couldn't afford the publicity. She had to maintain a low profile. And for her plan to work, she had to find a way to stay in Elliot's good graces.

Barbara excused herself to call Naomi to tell her she'd be late for the meeting, but Naomi told her not to come. She'd update her later. Then she went to face Harper and the fallout for her decision not to press charges.

“I just don't understand it,” John said. “What if he tries to rob someone else and uses a gun next time?”

“I'm trusting Elliot to control his son. Anyway, he'd get out on bail even if I pressed charges.”

“Still…”

“There are too many of our men in jail as it is,” Barbara defended.

“He committed a crime,” John pressed.

“Let it go, John,” Harper cut in.

It was apparent John wanted to press the issue further and Barbara couldn't blame him.

“I'm off,” he said to Harper with a tired sigh, leaving Harper and Barbara in strained silence.

“Any news on the woman found in the marsh?” Barbara asked.

Harper shook his head. “They'll be doing the autopsy soon, but the DNA results will take longer.”

He wanted to pursue her decision further, but a reluctant witness wouldn't make a good witness on the stand. Pick your battles.

“I take it the relationship is off, or do you plan to give Andrew another chance?”

She scoffed. “Are you kidding?”

He leaned back in his chair. He'd caution any other woman, but Barbara wasn't a novice. She was smart and she seemed to have a good reason for not pressing charges.

“You tell me,” Harper said. “You refused to press charges—why did you even call me?”

“You know why. And whatever we had has ended.”

“Glad to hear that.” Harper turned a paperweight in his hand. “The last time we had murders on the island, against my better judgment, I decided to wait to pursue a relationship with you. But I'm not waiting this time.”