LOWCOUNTRY BOOMERANG

by Susan M. Boyer

  “Any idea what motive she would have to kill Trina Lynn?” asked Nate.

  I shook my head. “Clearly I missed something on her profile. I need to get back online and figure this out.”

  “Satellite dish is all set.” He opened his computer. “Shall we divide and conquer?”

  “Let’s. I’ll dive deeper into her personal life.”

  “I’ll cast a wider net on her career.”

  An hour later, I was feeling frustrated and hungry. “I think I’ll make us some dinner. You hungry?”

  “Sounds good.” Nate studied the screen.

  “Anything?” I asked.

  “Not yet. Food may help us think better.”

  “I need some pasta.” Noodles always helped my brain work better.

  I made a simple fettuccine Alfredo and we moved to the banquette to eat. We talked little, each going back over everything we knew about Olympia Price.

  “Her financials are rock solid,” I said. “The house is paid for. Neither she nor her husband have any claims for collection or liens. He’s a residential contractor. There’s not a hint of scandal of any sort.”

  “And not a glimmer of corruption on the job.”

  “This has to be very personal.” I twirled some noodles around my fork and delivered them to my mouth.

  “You think she was protecting someone?” asked Nate.

  “I think that has to be it. Someone with her career…it has to be family. My guess is one of her kids. But they all seem solid. Two of them, the girls, are married with children. They both live out of state, one in Georgia, one in North Carolina. The son—Mark—he’s the youngest. Thirty-five. Works for Boeing. Something technology related. No red flags on his profile whatsoever. Not so much as a parking ticket.”

  “Hmm…I wonder if he’s that much of an upstanding citizen, or if he’s had a few parking tickets taken care of.”

  “I have no idea how to check on that. If we could talk to Sonny, he might have heard something,” I said.

  “I think we need to call him on one of the burners anyway,” said Nate. “I know we said we were going to leave him alone, but after what happened today, I think we have to let him know what’s going on. Blake too. Hell, she could try to get to us through anyone we’re close to.”

  “Oh my God.” Something grabbed at my chest from the inside. “I’ve been so wrapped up in figuring this thing out…why didn’t I think of that?”

  “This has all happened fast,” said Nate.

  I stood, went back to the sofa to get the burner phone. “I’m calling Blake now. Let’s wait on Sonny.”

  Later, after Blake assured me he had everyone corralled at Mamma and Daddy’s house and everyone was safe, I went back to Mark Price’s profile.

  And there it was. I sucked in a lungful of air.

  “What?” Nate looked up from his laptop.

  “The petty officer’s girlfriend. Antonia. What did she say her ex-boyfriend’s name was?”

  “Mark Wentworth.” Nate furrowed his brow. “Mark’s a pretty common name. What are you thinking?”

  “Mark Price’s middle name is Wentworth. It was his grandmother’s maiden name.”

  “That can’t be a coincidence.”

  I logged in to Facebook using a fake profile I kept handy for fishing expeditions.

  A few clicks later I was looking at Mark Wentworth’s profile. “Looks like the all-American boy-next-door.” Clean shaven, with close-cropped brown hair, and hazel eyes, he was smiling in most of the photos. He was a nice-looking guy. But so was Ted Bundy.

  No middle name was noted. He had no friends with the last name Price. He wasn’t Facebook friends with either of his sisters. I scrolled through his photos. He was into wilderness camping, off-road four wheelers—the kind some folks liked to get muddy—and fishing. My eyes gravitated to a photo of Mark with his arm around a beautiful Latina girl. “Look.” I slid my laptop towards Nate. “Is this Antonia?”

  “It is.”

  I spun my computer back around. “I need to find a photo of Mark Price.” I searched Facebook for his sisters’ profiles. It didn’t take long to find a photo from a cookout from just this past weekend. One with the whole family smiling outside in what I’d bet was Captain Price’s backyard.

  “Oh my God.”

  Nate turned the computer back to him. “Mark Wentworth Price goes by the name Mark Wentworth. Antonia didn’t mention that, or that he was related to Captain Price. I’d bet she didn’t know. Otherwise she’d have really made a stink about the police not investigating her theory that Mark had killed her boyfriend. She wouldn’t have left that out.”

  “Unless she knew and was afraid.” I was thinking out loud. “But if that were it, she wouldn’t have mentioned anything about her theory. She’d have kept quiet. I think we’ll have to ask Mark himself why he doesn’t use his last name.”

  “I’ll call Antonia,” said Nate. “I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to tell us how to get in touch with him.”

  “Let’s head into Summerville,” I said.

  When we were back in Summerville, away from our safe haven, Nate drove randomly through town while I used my iPhone to call Mark and set up a meet for the following night.

  Then we called Sonny on his burner from ours and brought him up to speed. When we’d formulated a plan, I called him back from my iPhone and told him Nate and I were dropping the Baker/Causby case. I waxed poetic about how I was convinced now that Darius was guilty. I was betting Olympia Price had cloned at least one of the three of our phones, likely all of them. I didn’t care if she believed what I told Sonny or not. But I needed her to think Sonny believed it. And I needed her to think she was outsmarting me when she showed up in Philadelphia Alley, like I knew she would.

  THIRTY-ONE

  I walked in through the Cumberland Street entrance to Philadelphia Alley, just like Margie Sue and Mary-Lou had Sunday night. Mark Wentworth Price had been eager to meet with me, just like Trina Lynn had been eager to meet with his mother. Trina Lynn had thought she was meeting a witness who would give her solid information proving her theory on the petty officer case was true. Mark thought he was being blackmailed.

  He no doubt planned to leave me dead in the alley just like his mother had Trina Lynn. The only question in my mind was would he call his mother and ask for help, or would he try to handle this for himself, given that he appeared not to want to be associated with his family’s last name. Whether he called her or she intercepted him after listening to our call, either way, I knew who I was meeting.

  She waited for me in front of the brick church wall, right where Trina Lynn died.

  “Clever of you to check those boxes,” she said. “Too clever. But then, I expected you would do just that.”

  “I’m thinking maybe a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of clever,” I said. “But I was expecting Mark.”

  “Mark won’t be coming this evening. He’s been detained.”

  “Literally?” I asked. “Did you arrest him?”

  “Don’t be absurd.”

  “I figured it would be better to deal with him directly, him being the one who killed Petty Officer Fielding Davidson and all. Also, no offense, but his job pays much better. I’m thinking he has a hundred thousand to spare.”

  “Ah, so you’re not so smart after all,” she said. “Why would I pay you or allow him to, when I can just shoot you? You’re as stupid as she was.”

  “She wanted money from you?” This shocked me.

  “Of course she didn’t want money from me.” Her tone dismissed me as an idiot.

  “What then?” I asked. “What did she want that would make you throw away a twenty-five-year career…a distinguished service record…why?” Of course I already knew the answer to this question.

  “She didn’t want anything.” Her voice was harsh. “S
he would have taken everything.”

  “Ooooh,” I said. “She wanted the story. She figured it all out, and she was going to put it on the news. Decorated police captain’s son murdered a petty officer in cold blood.”

  “And what do you know about anything?” She sneered at me.

  She wanted to know what all I knew. And most importantly, who all I’d told. She wouldn’t kill me straightway after all.

  “I know plenty. The only question that remains is, are you willing to pay for my silence?”

  “Have you no decency?” she asked.

  “Enough that I don’t shoot people in alleys and try to blame an innocent man,” I said.

  She stilled. “I didn’t plan to frame Darius. He was convenient.”

  “How could you? You’ve given your life to upholding the law.”

  She laughed harshly. “I have. And the law would have taken my family from me. Maybe someday you’ll appreciate the importance of family loyalty. Very few people your age do.”

  “I’m plenty loyal to my family. None of them have killed anybody.”

  She stepped backward, as if I’d slapped her. “Mark wasn’t in his right mind. Any jury would see that. That cheap hussy drove him wild running around. She apparently had a thing for men in uniform.”

  “I’m curious, did Petty Officer Davidson save that young girl from the sex trafficking ring before Mark killed him? Was Trina Lynn right? Or was that some other Good Samaritan?”

  Her weary eyes glittered with hatred. “He did a good thing, saving that girl. I’m not saying he didn’t.”

  “So, the petty officer stops on his way home from his girlfriend’s house for pizza. He sees the attempted kidnapping going down, stops it…I’m guessing he took a few blows in the process. Maybe was beaten up pretty good. And Mark, who was stalking Antonia, had followed him from her apartment. He saw the whole thing. And it was his opportunity to get rid of his competition. Is that how it happened?

  She stared at me hard. “I told you. That girl drove him a little crazy. She taunted him.”

  “If any jury would see that it was her fault, why not let Trina Lynn tell what she knew? Why not let a jury find Mark innocent?”

  “You don’t have children, do you?” she asked.

  That was a gut punch. “No, I don’t.”

  She nodded. “That’s why you can’t possibly understand. Mark would’ve never survived jail. He’s not built for that. He’s the son of a police captain. Everyone I’ve ever sent to jail and all their friends would’ve taken pleasure in torturing him and then killing him. I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “And Trina Lynn was so close you had to kill her to save him.” I tried to say it matter-of-factly, but it still sounded ludicrous.

  “Like I said, you know nothing of what it is to have children.”

  “I know my parents would never kill anyone to protect me from my own actions.” I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth. I didn’t need to antagonize her.

  “How dare you judge me!”

  “And why, exactly, does Mark not use your last name? He is your biological son—yours and your husband’s, right?”

  “Of course he’s our son. Our only son. Mark has some wrong ideas. He’d like to see the whole country dissolve into anarchy. It’s a phase.”

  “So, to protect your only son, you murdered Trina Lynn…right in this very spot?” I said.

  “I haven’t decided yet whether I’m going to kill you as well, so choose your next words carefully—”

  “Or you’ll kill me exactly where you killed her?”

  “I won’t hesitate a moment to drop you right where you stand. Yes. Exactly where I dropped her.”

  From the roof of the adjacent building, floodlights lit the alley.

  “Captain Price, lay down your weapon. Slowly.” Sonny’s voice.

  Enraged and haughty, she looked into the lights. “Detective Ravenel, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I was about to arrest this young woman for the murder of Trina Lynn Causby. You’ll find all the evidence you need in her possession.”

  “No, ma’am,” said Sonny. “It’s all been logged into evidence. Along with the photographs of you loading the boxes into your car and unloading them at the Salvation Army.”

  “Drop your weapon, ma’am.” Jenkins. How many officers were up there with them?

  Behind her, two uniformed officers approached, weapons drawn. I glanced over my shoulder. Two more approached from behind me.

  Captain Price pulled a gun from under her jacket. She pointed it at my head.

  “You’re not getting away with this,” she said.

  I had my weapon, but if I moved, she’d shoot me, no doubt.

  She was going to shoot me anyway.

  Oh my God. This was it. Nate.

  I could see it in her eyes. She was going to kill me. She was going to make them kill her.

  “Drop it. Now,” Sonny yelled. “Now.”

  A shot echoed down the alley.

  Was I hit?

  Captain Price dropped to the brick pathway.

  THIRTY-TWO

  The palm trees danced in the breeze, their fronds impossibly green against the Carolina blue sky. The heat and humidity abated overnight, with just a hint of fall in the air. Nate and I pulled into Mamma and Daddy’s driveway in a shiny new silver Lincoln Navigator.

  “I don’t understand,” I said again.

  “I had time on my hands yesterday before everything went sideways. We needed a new car. If you’ll recall, we’ve had very bad luck with the last three Explorers. I got a great deal.”

  “But these are so much more expensive. Why didn’t you get a Tahoe, or…or a Subaru of some sort? I’ve never owned a car with a theme before. This car has a theme.”

  “I should never have told you that. I thought it was funny. It’s a marketing thing. Look. We spend a lot of time in our cars. We depend on them to be reliable and to have enough room to carry all of our equipment—”

  “And that’s another thing…how in the world did you get so much of that replaced yesterday afternoon?”

  “I simply had the time to knock a few things on our to-do list out. I was thinking it would take away some of your stress. And I have to tell you, this whole conversation feels like a distraction, so we don’t talk about the fact you nearly died last night.” He drew a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Sonny let that go too long.”

  I hadn’t slept at all the night before. My nerves were still ragged. “I had a bad moment. One where I truly thought I’d never see you again.”

  “Never again,” he said. “Never again will I agree to go unarmed to a scenario where your life is put in danger.”

  “You know why Sonny insisted on that,” I said. “It’s one thing for Sonny to shoot a captain during a sting. It’s quite another, legally, if you do it. He was trying to protect you.”

  “And I need to protect you,” he said.

  “Listen, Mamma’s going to come out here and drag us out of the car any minute now. Can we talk about this later?”

  “Sure. Yeah. We’d best go inside.”

  We climbed out of the car. By the time we made it to the front porch, Daddy stood in the doorway. He looked me up and down. Then he turned to Nate. “Is this the new normal, son? My daughter having near death experiences?”

  “Frank.” Mamma pushed him aside. “Come in the house, children, I’ve made pot roast.”

  Pot roast was Mamma’s ultimate comfort food dish. She usually made it in cooler months. But that day, she knew I’d need comfort food. Perhaps she did too.

  Merry and Joe and Blake and Poppy were in the foyer behind Mamma and Daddy. We walked through and I stopped to hug every one of the people I love most and thought I might never see again.

  Mamma gentled us all
to the table laden with melt-in-your-mouth pot roast and gravy, mashed potatoes, carrots, butter peas, fried okra, squash casserole, deviled eggs, and biscuits.

  When we were all in our places, she prayed extra hard, and extra long. Then we all dug into the feast she’d prepared.

  Blake reached for a normal tone, and almost found it. “Looks like Darius is a shoo-in for the vacant town council seat.”

  “He convinced me he’s against development,” I said. “He’ll get my vote.”

  “Merry, when are you and Joe leaving for your trip again?” asked Poppy. “It just sounds amazing.”

  “In November,” said Merry. “It’s shoulder season in Patagonia then—spring. It won’t be quite so crowded.”

  “So you’ll be here for our anniversary?” asked Nate.

  “Yeah,” said Merry. “We’ll be back in plenty of time. Are you planning a party?”

  Nate turned to me. We hadn’t discussed a party. But it sounded fun.

  “I have a surprise planned,” he said. “No one make plans for Christmas week this year. Actually…leave two weeks open. The Saturday before Christmas through the Saturday after New Year’s. I’ll plan this year’s holiday celebration. If that’s all right with you, Carolyn?” He looked at Mamma.

  “You don’t want me to plan Christmas?” She couldn’t quite parse the idea.

  “Every year you work so hard to make the holidays special. I’d consider it a favor if you’d let me do the heavy lifting this year. We’ll celebrate Merry and Joe’s wedding, our first anniversary, and the holidays. One big celebration. That sound okay?”

  He looked at Mamma. We all knew this was her call.

  “Well, if that’s what you want.” She gave him a bewildered look. “Frank’s never planned a single thing his entire life.”

  “It’s what I want,” said Nate. “Thank you.”

  I looked at him sideways. What was he up to?

  Colleen laughed her signature bray-snort laugh. She was perched on the sideboard watching us eat. “Fix me a plate, would you?”

  If you tell me what’s going on.