Authors: Candice Poarch
Deadly Intentions (17 page)
27
Mrs. Clark called Lisa's cell phone that afternoon. “I've got important news for you,” she said. “When can you and Brian get here?”
“We can leave on the next ferry,” Lisa responded. “What's wrong?”
“Just get here before somebody else dies on this street.” The phone disconnected.
Lisa and Brian left immediately. They reached Ocean Front an hour later. Mrs. Clark's brother wasn't in this time. She was holding her dog in her lap.
“I sent him to the store,” she said. “Didn't want him ogling you.”
“What's wrong?” Brian asked.
“Remember the guy I told you about? The renter who lived across the street?”
Lisa and Brian both nodded.
“He's the one who pitched off the balcony at the high-rise hotel on the beach,” she said. “Been on the news all morning. They call it suicide, but I'm not so sure. He seemed a nice young man. I can't imagine what kind of trouble he'd be in. Or why anyone would want to kill him, for that matter.”
“You said he lived across the street?”
“That's right.”
“You might want to check out his place before the police find out where he's staying,” Mrs. Clark continued. “I don't think they know yet. At least they haven't been here. Somebody will call them before long if they already haven't.”
“Mrs. Clark,” Brian teased, “are you suggesting I break the law?”
“You aren't going to steal anything, are you?” she asked.
“Depends on what I find. Information is valuable.”
Mrs. Clark pinched her lips. “Just let me know what you find.”
“Thanks for the info, Mrs. Clark,” Brian said. “Appreciate it.”
As they left, Lisa asked, “What are we going to do now? I sure wish I had a contract with that house.”
“You have any gloves in your car?”
“Sure. My maids clean with them.”
“We don't want to leave fingerprints,” he said. “Like Mrs. Clark said, we should check it out. See what this guy was up to.”
“I don't know how to break into a house.”
“I do.”
They crossed the street and went around the back. It was a warm day. The seagulls were out. Sea grass swayed in the wind. The sand dunes gave them some anonymity. No one was about.
They pulled on their gloves as they approached the back door. Brian quickly had them in the house.
The place barely looked lived in. Justin's clothes were still packed in the suitcase in the bedroom. A few were hung up in the walk-in closet.
Lisa headed to the closet and went through all his pockets while Brian went through the rest of the room. Pulling out drawers, going through the suitcase, looking for any secret compartments.
“Find anything?” Brian asked.
“Not yet.”
They continued to search.
Lisa found a piece of paper in his pants pocket. It had Tootsie's name written on it.
Alyssa had mentioned that name the previous night.
After dispensing with Justin, Nicholas checked in to a hotel closer to the ferry. He changed into a suit before he visited the morgue to identify Greg's body.
My God, my God.
He balled his hands into fists as his brother's pale face was presented to him.
He balled his hands into fists as his brother's pale face was presented to him.
His stomach churned. Although he'd learned to control his emotions, this was hard. This was nearly impossible. Jaw clenched tight, he nodded and signed the necessary papers.
Once in his car, he'd finally broken down and cried. He never cried. He'd learned from an early age tears were useless.
Deana had tried to call him several times but he hadn't responded. His cell phone was on silence. He didn't want the distraction.
When he pulled himself together, he headed to the ferry and rode it to Paradise Island. He stayed in his car. Didn't want to make conversation with strangers. Didn't want to pretend everything was fine when his world had been ripped apart.
But some things captured his interest.
Watching a man hold his little son, no more then four, up on his shoulder brought back fond memories. The boy fed bits of bread to the seagulls that swept low to grab the small snacks. The gulls followed the ferry from shore to shore.
The boy giggled, a lilting, happy sound.
For a moment Nicholas smiled. He remembered feeding gulls with Greg when he was a child. They took at least one vacation a year where he'd dedicate an entire week to his brother.
They'd visited many places around the globe. Nicholas would often take Greg to Virginia Beach or Ocean City for a few days between jobs. Greg loved the beach. Loved frolicking in the water. When Nicholas discovered children could start swimming lessons at six months, he'd signed Greg up for lessons. The little tyke had taken to the water immediately.
The ferry pulled up to the dock and Nicholas drove off, headed to the sheriff's office.
It was a small office. Less than a handful of people in there.
“I'd like to see Sheriff Porterfield,” he said. He waited patiently while the officer went to get him.
Some dark, overdeveloped football type met him.
“Mr. Doyle, I'm Sheriff Porterfield. This is Alyssa Claxton, the investigator. We're sorry for your loss.”
Nick nodded.
“Do you know why your brother would break into an islander's home?”
“You must be mistaken, Sheriff. My brother had more money than he could ever use. He had no reason to break into anyone's home.”
“Nevertheless, he was killed in the owner's doorway in the middle of the night,” Alyssa said. “Perhaps the reason wasn't related to money.”
Nicholas made a mental note that he'd kill the sheriff and Alyssa Claxton before it was all over.
“Greg is . . . was a successful taxidermist. He did not need to steal. Now, I understand it was alleged my brother caused some property damage.”
“Yes, he did,” the sheriff said.
“Then, I've made out a check to cover the damages.”
Alyssa took the check. “This is far above the cost of a broken door.”
“For the inconvenience, then.”
“I'll give it to her. The body isâ”
“I'm well aware of where the body is. It has already been seen to.”
Alyssa nodded. “Was your brother by any chance searching for the Claxton family's bowl?”
“He could any bowl if he wanted it.”
“Not if it's not for sale,” Alyssa said.
“I repeat. I don't know why my brother was there.” With a nod, he turned and left.
“I've never seen a person with eyes colder than Nicholas Doyle's,” Alyssa said.
“That man is dangerous,” Harper said.
“Greg was obviously dangerous, too. I'm going to keep an eye on Lisa. For once I'm glad Brian is with her.”
“A SEAL definitely knows how to protect her,” Harper said.
28
“We have to tell Alyssa,” Lisa said, “but I'm not listening to any lectures from her. The police need to get involved if we are to find the bowl and put an end to this madness.”
“I agree you should tell her,” Brian said. “I'm not convinced they'll be able to find it. Anyway, it's out of Alyssa's jurisdiction.”
“She has friends in the Virginia Beach PD.”
Brian shrugged.
They stood at the railing on the ferry as they returned to the island. The wind blew Lisa's hair and plastered her clothes against her body.
She wasn't slick or full of pretense. What you saw was what you got. And after having dealt with a mother who was all about pretense, Brian found Lisa's honesty refreshing.
The closest Brian had come to a traditional closeknit family had died when his father died years ago. And his father had been career Navy. He had been away a lot, but he always kept that connection to Brian. He was surprised that being around Lisa and her family brought back feelings he'd closed off.
He had to decipher if he was yearning for a familiar connection from the past or if he really had fallen for Lisa.
When you'd lived without the traditional family, you didn't know what you were missing when you didn't have that closeness that the Claxtons enjoyed. But when you'd come up close and personal with one . . . things changed. Expectations changed. Your ideals for the future changed.
But Lisa didn't want a permanent arrangement, Brian thought almost bitterly. She only wanted sex. A sex machine. He'd never thought of himself in those terms before. But his stomach clenched. She didn't want him on any other level.
But she needed him, Brian thought, whether she realized it or not. And it felt good that someone on this earth needed himâwanted him. He wondered if Lisa even realized that they needed each other.
Back at the hotel, Nicholas changed into tourist clothing and once again altered his appearance to that of an older gentleman. Then he rented a car under one of his old aliases. He took the ferry to Paradise Islandâagain.
Happy glowing signs advertising Founder's Day were all over the place. He checked into the lone B and B and made small talk with the proprietor, Gabrielle Price. She freely imparted the history of her family. It was the only thing on the island worthy of his attention. She'd seen him before, but clearly didn't recognize his features or his voice.
An older man came down the stairs dressed in a casual shirt, tweed jacket, and black slacks. Clearly a professor, Nick thought. Retired.
“So sorry about your cousin,” he said to Gabrielle. “Is she okay?”
Gabrielle nodded. “Thank goodness she wasn't alone when it happened.”
“Do you think they were looking for the lost bowl?” the man asked.
She shook her head. “Doesn't make sense. Lisa has never had it. Grandma and Aunt Anna kept it. The bowl we loaned to the museum is under guard for the celebration.”
The professor shook his head. “Too bad you were never able to find the original bowl your family owned.”
“Even though Grandma insists it's around here somewhere, I doubt we'll ever find it,” Gabrielle said.
“You never know. Well, I'm going to do some research in Virginia Beach. My daughter is going with me if I can get her moving.”
The professor disappeared.
“As I was saying, Mr. Berger,” Gabrielle said to Wick, “I only have room for one night. Founder's Day always draws a huge crowd and the rooms are booked a year in advance. This time, many came earlier than expected.”
“One night is all I need,” Nicholas assured her. “However, before I leave I think I'll book a room for next year.” After signing in and getting a key, Nicholas left for his room.
The lobby area was busy. The day was warm and many people headed to the beach, not to swim but to walk or play with their children. Some were even touring at the various sights on the mainland. Portsmouth, Norfolk, Virginia Beach were all within traveling distance.
He nodded to a couple who was coming down the stairs.
“May I help you with your luggage, sir?” the man asked.
“Thank you, no.” He nodded and continued to climb. People were friendly, too, Nicholas thought.
He made it to his room. It was decorated with period furniture mixed with modern, but he didn't take the time to appreciate any of it.
Today he would take pictures and plan his executions. Then he would go home to bury his brother.
But he would be back. Oh yes. He'd return to exact revenge on the Claxton family.
Lisa had been thinking about Magdelena a lot lately. She didn't exactly believe in psychics and all the other otherworldly beliefs. But some people swore by them and some swore they had “the gift.”
There were some things Lisa didn't understand. Like how did Magdelena know she was going to meet Brian? She must have meant Brian. Lisa certainly hadn't met any other man worth mentioning. She'd seen Ben a time or two, but they both knew nothing was happening there.
Lisa felt a queasy feeling in her stomach. Brian was the best she'd ever had. His concern for her was real. All her past boyfriends thought more of themselves and what they could get. From sex to protecting her, he gave more than he got in return.
But he was leaving soon. She could feel it. Brian was back on base at Little Creek for his doctor's appointment. And she'd never see him again.
She had to let him keep thinking that sex was the major factor between them. She wasn't into holding on to a man who didn't want to put down roots.
God, why did he have to come into her life? Before, she was doing just fine. Now, she'd miss him. Lisa sighed deeply. She'd miss him a lot when he left.
They could keep a long-distance relationship going for a while. Lisa shook her head. It wouldn't last. Nothing this good ever lasted for her.
She closed her eyes against the pain.
She wanted to visit Magdelena. Maybe she'd have some pointers. Lisa couldn't believe she was acting like a teenagerâlike Jackie, desperately looking for some magical solution to handle her problem. But . . . Lisa sighed. It wasn't just Brian, she told herself. She wanted to get a feel about the bowl, too. See if Magdelena had any insights.
She'd have to call Jackie to find out how to contact Magdelena. And she hadn't been looking forward to dealing with her friend. Lisa had been sharp with her. She'd had a splitting headache after the accident and planned on Jackie doing most of the work. Lisa had ended up doing most of the work herself.
And for some unfathomable reason Jackie was mad at her. Go figure. Jackie might not even speak to her.
As much as she didn't want to have to turn Jackie down if she asked to work again, Lisa called her anyway.
Jackie answered the phone as if she'd been awakened out of a sound sleep. “Jackie, where can I find Magdelena?” Lisa asked without preliminaries.
Lisa still didn't really believe in psychics, and wouldn't own up to it in a million years, but some of what the woman had said had come true. Some of the things made a lot of sense. And she didn't try to sell Jackie a load of shit. That in itself was worth exploring.
Lisa heard the mattress shift.
“I'll go with you,” Jackie said. “I want a reading, too. I'll give her a call to let her know we're coming. The last time I went to her place, she wasn't there. I drove all the way to Virginia Beach, too. Wasted gas money. I can be ready in twenty minutes.”
“Where does she . . .”
“You're going to drive, right? Gas is high and my tank is on empty.”
“I'll drive, but . . .”
Jackie had hung up.
I must get rid of the bowl, but how?
Magdelena wondered. She couldn't just walk up to the Claxtons and hand it over. She couldn't let anyone know she had it. She wanted to be rid of it, but it must go to the Claxtons. But how did she do that? What a mess. Magdelena was sure she hadn't been followed on her way back to the condo. Thank goodness for garage parking and that you needed a key card to get into it, which allowed for some degree of privacy. Not much, but a little.
Magdelena wondered. She couldn't just walk up to the Claxtons and hand it over. She couldn't let anyone know she had it. She wanted to be rid of it, but it must go to the Claxtons. But how did she do that? What a mess. Magdelena was sure she hadn't been followed on her way back to the condo. Thank goodness for garage parking and that you needed a key card to get into it, which allowed for some degree of privacy. Not much, but a little.
With the briefcase clutched tightly in her hand, she took the elevator up to her condo and locked the door securely behind her.
She started to tremble. Went to the window and peered outside. As if she could tell if the big bad wolf out there was looking for her. He could be at her door and into the condo in the dead of night with her unaware of his presence. If he could toss Justin off a balcony, he could kill her in her sleepâshe shudderedâand she could die before she ever awakened.
There was something to be said about saying a bedtime prayer.
Magdelena took off her beach hat and jacket. She placed the briefcase on the table and opened it. Several folders and legal papers were inside. She'd need a lawyer to decipher it all. But it looked as if he'd left all his worldly goods to herâeven after she lied to him, even though he knew she'd deliberately kept the bowls from him. If she'd given him the bowls, he might be alive.
Magdelena wiped the tears from her eyes.
Greg would be alive, and his brother wouldn't have come to town to kill Justin and to get revenge on others as well.
Through her tears she saw her name on an envelope. Magdelena pulled out a kitchen chair and sat. She opened it and read. He'd used the name she'd used at the artist colony.
Dear Tootsie,
If you get this, I'm dead. Wow! I thought I'd die in the Rockies, not here. Have my body cremated and take the ashes back to Colorado. Scatter them on my property. There's a nice little peak that overlooks the lake. We named it Lover's Peak, remember? Would you stand at the highest point and just rain them down for me?
Don't blame yourself for any of this, babe. You never wanted to become involved. I should never have talked you into it. You were right. I should never have taken the job. We should have just gone to Colorado.
You're the first decent woman I've ever dated, Tootsie. You deserve a great life.
Go to the police on Paradise Island. You met some people there. Tell them I was at the Knight house alone, that you weren't there and were unaware of my intentions.
I've signed a note to that effect.
You have to warn the couple on the island, at the house that Greg broke into. Their lives are in danger. Nicholas will exact revenge for Greg's death. Let them know that they need protection. Nicholas is a professional assassin.
I don't know why I ever decided to take this job. That five hundred grand wasn't worth all the trouble it's caused. It's ironic isn't it? I'm not going to get it anyway.
Nicholas has no connection with you. I want you to disappear as soon as you can.
Always,
Justin
Justin
It wasn't until Magdelena folded the letter and placed it back into the briefcase that she realized her face was wet with tears.
He'd cared for her, after all.
What should she do? Even if Justin had confessed to the murder, it might not be enough to clear her. Especially since some of the artists from the colony knew she'd made the duplicate bowl.
She couldn't let Lisa die. She had to warn her about Nicholas. She wasn't going to talk to the police. It was just too dangerous.
The phone rang. Magdelena didn't know whether she should answer it or ignore it. Probably somebody wanting a reading. She wasn't up to playing psychic today.
She glanced at the number.
For heaven's sake. That tiresome Jackie . . . But often Lisa was with Jackie.
This could be the break that I need,
Magdelena thought hopefully, and answered the phone.
This could be the break that I need,
Magdelena thought hopefully, and answered the phone.
“Magdelena. Lisa and I are on our way to the mainland. Any chance of us meeting up with you? We want our readings done.”
“Of course.” There was no connection between Justin and Jackieâat least as far as Magdelena knew. And this would give her an opportunity to feel Lisa out. She seemed more reasonable than Jackie at their meeting in the mall.
“You can meet with me at my condo.” She gave them the address and called downstairs to leave their names.
Magdelena put all the papers back into the briefcase, closed it and locked it. She carried it to her bedroom and stored it in the back of the closet.
She would make a decision on her next move after she talked with Lisa. This time she'd split them up, give them private sessions. She needed to feel Lisa out separately.
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