“They’re someplace safe, I promise,” said Blake.
“FT, how about we make us a hot toddy?” said Joe. “That’d probably be good for what ails us, wouldn’t it?”
“A hot toddy?” Daddy wavered.
“That’s a sensible idea,” said Mamma. “Perhaps I’ll have one as well. I probably have mud in my lungs.”
Blake and Poppy headed towards the door. They were so close.
“I need to get over to The Pirates’ Den.” Daddy stood and headed to the kitchen, which had a pass-thru to the garage.
“If you go out that door, I’m calling J. Henry Stuhr’s to come pick you up,” said Mamma. J. Henry Stuhr’s was the local funeral home, with five locations in the Charleston area.
“Call ’em.” Daddy grabbed his didgeridoo from where it was propped in the corner and stalked across the room, through the foyer and the kitchen, and out the door to the garage.
“You reckon he’s planning on walking over there?” asked Nate.
“Mamma, is the key to the golf cart on the same ring as his truck and house keys?”
“The golf cart,” said Mamma. “No. I keep the key on a hook by the door.”
We all ran out the front door.
Daddy waved as he pulled out of the driveway.
“What do you think he’s going to do with that didgeridoo?” asked Poppy.
“Maybe he thinks John will let him play onstage at The Pirates’ Den,” said Nate.
NINETEEN
I considered going to The Pirates’ Den, but I was pretty sure Colleen had someone in mind for Michael Devlin’s council seat, and I had a pretty good idea who that was. Daddy and that bunch would be hard pressed to thwart whatever Colleen had planned.
Nate and I headed home and settled into the office with a bottle of pinot noir. Nate poured while I powered up my laptop and opened the spreadsheet I’d started at 86 Cannon.
“I want to get this on the case board,” I said. “That helps me process things.”
“You want me to do it?” asked Nate.
“I’ve got it.” I sat my laptop on a small table near the whiteboards, grabbed a black dry erase marker, and started transferring our possible theories of the crime.
Nate sat in the corner of the sectional, propped his feet up, and watched. A few minutes later, I stepped back and looked at all the possibilities.
SuspectMotives
Unknown InformantCover up a crime/Keep a secret
- Petty Officer Case
- Some other story
LoverCrime of Passion
- Grey Hamilton
- Walker Nance
Wannabe LoverJealousy
- Kevin Looney
Unknown Wannabe LoverJealousy
Spouse of Lover / WannabeJealousy
- Julia Nance
Family
- Brantley MillerRage
- Billy Ray Unknown
- Georgia CausbyUnknown
- Sawyer CausbyUnknown
- Laura Beth CausbyUnknown
- Brother or Sister-in-lawUnknown
Darius’s Ex-WivesJealousy/Financial
- Arianna English
- Vivianne Whitley
- Lily McAdams
August LockwoodUnknown
Unknown SubjectRobbery
Random
“I saw Kevin Looney at the funeral,” said Nate. “Guy was all kind of tore up. Still could be him.”
“Was he the one in a plaid shirt and jeans?”
“Yeah. I thought one of the guys from J. Henry Stuhr’s was gonna escort him out of there. He was very emotional. It was awkward because no one seemed to know who he was. I chatted him up a bit. He definitely had an unrequited—unnatural, even—attachment to Trina Lynn, given that she didn’t know him.”
“All right, so he’s a priority.”
“I see you found something at Trina’s condo,” said Nate. “She had a second lover?”
I filled him in on Walker and Julia Nance. “I believed Julia when she told her friends she was at her parents’ house. She was convincing. But that leaves Walker Nance as a serious contender without a known alibi.”
“Well done.” Nate took a sip of wine, studied the board. “I think we can eliminate August Lockwood. I checked his alibi first thing this morning. Unless he convinced six friends to lie for him, he was at the fire pit at the apartment complex.”
“I hardly glanced at that list. Just out of curiosity, how many of those friends were women?”
“All of them.” Nate set down his glass on the tray on the ottoman, tapped at his phone. Both of us kept temporary case notes in lists. “Bailey Hart, Camille Shaw, Finn Weathers, Jaelyn White, Saige Martin, and Yeats Collins. All but Saige and Bailey were with him at the funeral today.”
“They all live at that same apartment complex?”
“Yep.”
“There’s something odd about that guy,” I said. “He gives me the creeps.”
“He’s a narcissist, if you ask me. Set up court in a corner at the visitation. According to him, Trina Lynn being shot is something that happened to him. Turned my stomach. Her family didn’t have much to do with him. Can’t blame them.”
“Any reason to think his groupies would lie for him?”
Nate rolled his lips in and out. “It’s a possibility, sure enough. But what motive would he have to kill Trina? By all accounts, including his, they were best friends…a successful team. She was the on-air talent. He’ll be reassigned, no doubt. But I’d say her death was not a good thing for his career.”
“Let’s kick the tires a bit more before we erase him from the board,” I said.
“As you wish.”
“Did you get a chance to look into the petty officer’s case?”
“I did. I met with Antonia Flores, the girlfriend whose apartment Fielding Davidson left the night he disappeared. She was almost certainly the last person to see him before he disappeared into thin air, other than the person or persons responsible for his departure, of course. She was cleared in his disappearance, by the way. The couple across from her had a problem with their washing machine. She let them use hers, and they were in and out of her apartment until past midnight. She never left.”
“Does she have a theory about what happened to him?” I asked.
“Indeed she does, and she was eager to share it. Seems none of the investigating officers took her input seriously, in her view, anyway. You know how that goes. They had good reason, I think, to believe her scenario wasn’t likely.”
“What did she think happened?”
Nate said, “Miss Flores believes her ex-boyfriend, one Mark Wentworth, killed the petty officer in a fit of jealousy. Seems Mark is a bit of a stalker and a bully.”
“Did the police look at him? That sounds like a credible lead to me.”
“They did,” said Nate. “But…there was jurisdictional ambiguity with that case. You had the Goose Creek PD, Charleston County Sheriff’s Office, and then you had NCIS involved. The Navy folks wouldn’t talk to me, but a helpful sheriff’s deputy told me that the one thing they all agreed on was that Trina Lynn’s theory was correct. They think a local human trafficking ring was behind the attempted kidnapping of the girl, Mia Moretti. There was some evidence the petty officer was at the scene. The deputy wasn’t helpful enough to tell me what that was, but he said it was solid. Witnesses saw a van they’ve connected to the trafficking ring in the area around that time. Apparently, there’s an ongoing task force investigation into that organization. The petty officer is almost certainly dead, and no one thinks they’ll ever find his body.”
My stomach roiled. “So if Trina Lynn was stirring that particular pot, and she was, the gang wouldn’t have hesitated to come after her.”
“That’s true e
nough,” said Nate. “But framing Darius…that’s definitely not their MO.”
I mulled that. “That’s an excellent point. We have a number of possibilities here. Normally we’d eliminate the least likely first, but that would mean asking family for alibis, something I’d like to avoid if we can. How about we look at this through the lens of who had the motive, means, and opportunity to plant the gun in the bag Darius reportedly threw in the trash can at White Point Garden.”
“That makes the most sense to me,” said Nate.
“The motive could be as simple as ‘make anyone look guilty but me.’ They maybe weren’t necessarily out to frame Darius in particular. Maybe he was just handy.”
Nate said, “But whoever it was had to know Darius had a connection to Trina Lynn. That wasn’t common knowledge. No one would get that lucky—to implicate someone who happened to be handy and have him turn out to have a connection to the victim they didn’t even know about.”
“Agreed.” On another section of the case board, I started a list of facts about the killer. “We’re looking for someone who knew Trina Lynn had a history with Darius. He or she also knew Trina Lynn was investigating the petty officer’s case, because they used it to lure Trina Lynn to Philadelphia Alley. They owned or had access to a handgun and knew how to use it.”
“He or she was in Charleston Sunday night,” said Nate.
I stood back and looked at the case board. “So we’ve established it wasn’t the gang responsible for the petty officer’s probable death. Who else can we eliminate?”
“It damn sure wasn’t random,” said Nate.
I erased “Unknown Informant/Petty Officer Case” and “Unknown Subject/Robbery.” “We need to talk to the ladies who found Trina Lynn. See if they saw anyone leaving Philadelphia Alley. Maybe that will help us narrow things down.”
“That’s a good idea. Can you talk to them tomorrow morning?”
“Sure.” I took my wine and joined him on the sofa. “Right now, Brantley Miller looks like our best suspect to me, followed by either of Trina Lynn’s lovers and her stalker.”
“Why don’t I make a quick trip to Travelers Rest?”
“Assuming he’s still in school at Clemson, he’d be there,” I said.
“Less than an hour between the two.”
“I’ll feel better after we look him in the eyes, talk to him. Maybe we should both go.”
Nate said, “Nah, we’ve got too many bases to cover. Besides, if he’s a stone-cold sociopath who could burn down a house with his family in it, looking into his eyes likely won’t tell us a thing. I’ll just make a day trip of it. Leave early. I’ll be home by bedtime.”
I studied his face. “You’re trying to keep me away from Brantley, aren’t you?”
“What makes you say that? We always divvy things up, cover more territory faster.”
“Then I’ll go to Travelers Rest and Clemson.”
Nate shrugged. “If you’d rather do that, fine with me.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He took a long sip of wine. “Of course, the ladies from Texas would probably be more comfortable talking to you.”
“You think so?” He was absolutely trying to keep me away from Brantley Miller.
“Don’t you?” he asked, all innocent.
“I’m on to you.”
“Are you now?”
“You’re trying to protect me again.”
“Look me in the eye and tell me you never worry about me.” Nate had been shot earlier that year. I worried about him often and he knew it.
“Worrying’s one thing,” I said. “But not letting me do my job is another thing altogether.”
“Slugger, there is plenty of work to be done here. It’s going to take both of us. I’m not trying to keep you from doing your job. Now, would I rather you stayed here while I went to get a look at Brantley Miller? Yes, okay. I admit it. You got me. Especially given that Colleen is tied up twenty-four seven protecting Darius as long as he’s in jail. I’d appreciate you not telling her this, but I really do miss having her around.”
“Oooh! I knew it. I am perfectly capable—”
“But on the other hand, if I go check out Brantley Miller, that means you’re going to stay here and track down three other men who could just as easily have killed Trina Lynn, right?”
“But your gut tells you it’s Brantley, just like mine does.”
“Based on what we know right now, yes,” he said.
“Let’s flip a coin.”
Nate’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen. “Fraser.”
He slid the button to the right, put the phone on speaker. “Nate Andrews.”
“Mr. Andrews, I will be in bond court first thing in the morning. Mr. Baker will appear remotely via video from the Charleston County Jail. I anticipate his release. However, I will not be available to escort him home due to a commitment regarding another case. There will undoubtably be a plethora of media at the jail. You and Ms. Talbot will need to escort him directly to his home. See to it that he does not speak to the press.”
“I think the plan is for him to stay at a local bed and breakfast with his family,” said Nate.
“Whoever’s plan that was, it is not my plan. Take him home, Mr. Andrews.”
“What time do we need to be at the jail?”
“I will call you. It will likely be early afternoon,” said Fraser.
“We’ll take care of it.” Nate ended the call.
“I guess that settles that,” he said. “Neither of us is going to the Upstate tomorrow. It’ll definitely take both of us to keep the reporters at bay.”
“Damnation. Let’s get as much out of the way as we can in the morning. Then maybe we can both go Saturday.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Nate. “We should divvy the rest of those folks up first thing in the morning.”
“Right after breakfast at The Cracked Pot,” I said.
“You seriously want Moon Unit’s country fried breakfast with gravy after the meals we’ve had the last two nights?”
“It’s not in our best interests, for sure,” I said. “But I’m wondering if Moon Unit has any more information to pass along. Hey, what did you find out about Sonny’s chain of command?”
He tapped at his phone. “Not much of use, at least at this point. I know the names. Their lieutenant is Randall Johnson. The captain over the Investigations Division is Olympia Price. Deputy Chief is Tyrone Latimer. All three are highly decorated and respected. So far nothing’s popped as a connection between any of them and any name we’ve run across on this case.”
“You never did tell me about Arianna English.” I sipped my wine.
“I told you everything there was to tell.” His voice was even, not defensive.
“She sure seemed taken with you. Couldn’t keep her hands off you.”
“I wouldn’t say that. She’s just one of those physically demonstrative people.”
“Do tell?” I leaned closer, spoke softly. “I’m going upstairs to slip into something involving garters and heels. If you’d care to join me, I’ll show you how physically demonstrative your wife is.”
He kissed me long and hard. Then he put his hand under my chin and lifted my face so that I was looking into those deep pools of blue. “I can’t even begin to conjure a more enthralling image than you in garters and heels. But the thing is, it’s clear to me that I’m the one who has something to demonstrate right now. Because you seem to be confused as to who the only woman in the world whose hands I want on me is. And I need to clear that right up.
Then he scooped me up, carried me up the stairs, and laid me gently on the bed.
I never had the chance to change.
TWENTY
There was a line outside on both sides of the door at The Cracked Pot the next morning.
“No tellin’ how long we’d have to wait for a place to sit. Let me out and I’ll run in and try to catch Moon Unit,” I said.
“I’ll swing back by the house and grab coffee. Some yogurt and some fruit. That sound okay?” asked Nate.
“Perfect, thanks.” I leaned over and kissed him, smiled, and climbed out of the car.
I couldn’t even hear the bells when I went through the door. Every seat at the counter, every table, every spot at a booth was taken. People were crowded inside the door waiting for a seat. I didn’t see a soul I knew. The noise level was overwhelming. Everyone was talking louder to be heard over the crowd, so the volume seemed to be cranking up by the moment.
I scanned the dining room and behind the counter for Moon. There. She had a tray balanced on her hand as she delivered platters of eggs, grits, biscuits, bacon, ham, and sausage to a table near the back. I zigzagged through the restaurant, sliding between chairs, and made my way to Moon.
She lowered the tray and turned towards me. “I don’t have any idea how long it’ll be. Blake took his breakfast to go. First time that’s ever happened.”
“Are these all reporters?”
“Most of them. There’s also some folks from out of town here to support Darius. And people who work for his first ex-wife. Have you met her? She’s at Calista’s. But her people showed up today. She’s renting a house—”
“Moon, real quick. Is there anything else you think Sonny might want me to know?”
She raised an eyebrow at me. “Now that you mention it, he said something very odd. I don’t know what to make of it.” She looked at the ceiling. Wiggled her finger back and forth a few times. “It was something like, ‘I wish Liz knew the true price of this case.’ I thought it sounded real philosophical. But it didn’t make any sense to me. Does it to you?”
Indeed, it did. Price. Sonny was telling me Captain Olympia Price was pressuring him. “Not a lick. I think Sonny’s working too hard.”
“I’ve tried to tell him that, but you know men don’t listen.”
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