She was so quiet, he thought she might not tell him. Eventually, she said, “Dad named all of us. Mom was out of it after I was born, but Aunt Whitney tried to talk him into a different name for me.” She stopped and sighed.
“Why?’ Banks asked. “I like Hallie.”
“It’s just a nickname, but thanks. Dad was a minister back then, and he says he felt called to set an example for others on how to honor God, and he started with our names. The oldest is my brother Abe — Abraham. Lucky creep got to take the older boys to California for the summer, to an acting camp because they’re all clueless. Did you know that? Guess what I get to do? Change diapers and chase kids.”
“Don’t you enjoy anything about being here?” Banks asked.
“I don’t hate it. I’d be doing the same thing at home, and at least here I can go to the beach, although going with a bunch of little kids is hard. Back home, Dad would take us up to Lake Lanier. Once, just the two of us went.”
Her voice trailed off, and Banks could see she was getting upset again, so he got busy with the Lego collecting. “I’m not a fan, myself,” he said. “Never learned to swim. You’d be surprised how many of us locals don’t. We’ll go out on the water, but don’t toss us in.”
She shook her head at him and smiled. “That’s crazy.”
“Finish your story. I want to know about your name.”
“I was hoping you’d forget. Okay, the oldest boys are Abraham, Ezekiel, and Isaiah. The twins are Hope and Charity. Then there’s little Faith. But I got the winner. Guess.”
Banks tried to imagine what Hallie could be a nickname for.
“Give up? It’s Glory. Glory Hallelujah. Good one, huh? Aunt Whitney made them call me Hallie, and she broke the cycle of holy names when she had her babies.”
Banks had been poised say something positive, but all he could manage was, “Ever think about changing it?”
“All the time. But Dad still likes it. We’ll see. Maybe when I move out.”
“When do you think that’ll be?”
She kissed the top of Becca’s head and sighed. “Not soon enough. I love them all, but I’m dying here.”
“You know if you’d like to tell me anything — ”
“I don’t.”
Inspiration struck. Banks said, “Are you scared of Sawyer?”
Hallie hesitated. “You’ve talked to Mom?”
He was just doing his job, Banks told himself. He was careful not to nod as he said, “The Chief knows all about it.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Mr. Overton and Ms. Jones were married in Las Vegas on May third.”
Whitney lost what little color she had, and Melanie hugged and twisted herself a bit tighter. Other than these small tells, it seemed to McNamara the sisters weren’t surprised by the confirmation of Felicia’s claim, so he continued with his news.
“We know from his application for the now-missing rental car that he checked into a hotel off Route 97 near BWI airport late Sunday morning. The manager confirmed that information and said he paid in advance for one night and left before the checkout the next day. He didn’t contact the front desk or any other hotel facilities while he was there, and there were no charges to the room.”
“Are you saying you didn’t learn anything?” Whitney’s disappointment was sharp in her voice.
“I did expect to turn up some trace of him before now. He was last seen here Sunday night.” He let this sink in for a moment. “You may call your lawyer before you answer, but I have to ask you again, do either of you know where he is? If you have any information, I can understand you not telling Ms. Jones, but you need to tell me.”
Maybe it was that he’d said ‘Ms. Jones’ instead of ‘Mrs. Overton,’ but the sisters seemed to thaw a bit toward him. Or maybe they were as tired of the subject as he was.
“My answer hasn’t changed,” Whitney said. “We had a nice visit with him on Sunday afternoon and evening. He flew up here to meet with Fred Renne at Lightning Strike. The trip to see us was a surprise. He went to Atlanta to complete the sale of our house and help Felicia pack up her apartment. They were supposed to drive up here together next week.”
“He said all of that while he was here?”
Whitney thought for a minute, then said, “No. I mean yes, the part about why he was here was new, and he explained that. The rest of it, the next steps, that’s what we had all agreed to. He didn’t say any of it had changed.”
“Did those next steps include him being married to Ms. Jones?”
“No!” the sisters said in unison.
McNamara said, “In that case, it was generous of you to give her a credit card.”
“There was a miscommunication about the laundry. Some of her clothes were damaged,” Whitney said, a ghost of a smile on her lips.
Melanie laughed, the sound harsh and without amusement. “Whit gave her the big kids’ debit card. It has a fifty dollar a day limit for emergency gas and food when they’re out.”
“You didn’t tell her.” He could imagine the reaction when Felicia hit the limit, probably with her first purchase.
“She’ll find out,” Whitney said but didn’t seem to be entertained by her own trick. “The Uber she took to get here from the airport wiped her out, and she expects us to pay for everything.”
McNamara said, “I won’t take up much more of your time, but have you been able to think of any reason Sawyer Renne would padlock the garage door?”
“You’re not bringing up that ridiculous idea that Hallie started the fire, are you?” Melanie said. “Because we will sue you and don’t think we won’t.”
“Understood. But I was asking about Renne, not your daughter. How well do you know him?”
Melanie looked at him with curiosity, but Whitney’s face darkened. “I should have guessed,” she said. “What’s the little weasel done?”
“Residue from marijuana and cocaine were found in the garage,” McNamara said. “Renne was the last person in there before the fire department arrived.”
The sisters’ shock seemed genuine.
“Sawyer was keeping drugs in there?” Whitney asked.
“Someone was.” McNamara’s voice was still mild, but his statement was a question.
“I said we needed a background check on him.”
Melanie’s only reaction was to ask for a glass of water as if she were in a restaurant and not her own kitchen. When Whitney was at the sink, Melanie said, “Was he selling it or using it?”
McNamara said, “I don’t have proof that he was doing either, but those are excellent questions. Any information you can provide will be helpful.”
Taking the water her sister offered, Melanie rose and walked out of the room without further comment.
“We don’t know anything, Chief McNamara,” Whitney said. “But you’d better believe I’ll be watching things more closely.”
He took a business card and wrote a website address on the back before handing it to her. “The background check would have been a good idea. This isn’t a substitute, but it’s something you’ll want to look at.”
Whitney’s hand trembled as she read the card. “The Maryland Judiciary Case Search?”
“Records of arrests, charges, trials, and their resolutions. All public information. Just type in his name. It’s an interesting read.”
“Drugs around our children. I’ll kill him.”
“Mr. Renne’s occupied with some legal problems of his own at the moment, so let us handle him. In the meantime, I have to interview Hallie. Either your sister cooperates, or I’ll have to get a warrant.”
“I can get her to cooperate. We’ve overreacted, I can see that now. We’re not handling things very well at the moment.” Whitney glanced around before continuing. “Felicia showing up here was the last straw, and we’re stuck with her now. I can’t see any of us working with her, so even if Heath comes home, we might lose the show.”
“If he comes home?” McNamara asked. “Why the ch
ange?”
“My sister has the luxury of denial, largely because I don’t indulge in it. One of us has to be practical. He’ll come back to us if he can. And if he does, all I want is our old life back.”
Banks could feel the answers about to spill out of Hallie’s mouth in response to his lie. He tried to feel pleased with himself.
“I can’t make any more mistakes,” she was saying. “Mom says Dad can take care of everything that’s happened so far, but I can’t do anything else wrong.”
She was rocking faster, and Banks wanted to tell her to talk quickly before she woke Becca. “What’s your Dad going to do?” he asked.
She looked surprised. “Get rid of Sawyer, of course.”
Banks could think of several reasons a father would make Renne leave his teenage daughter alone.
“But I don’t need him to do that,” Hallie went on. “I’m old enough to make up my mind about men. If I hadn’t gone out to the garage the day of the fire, and acted so silly he wouldn’t have assumed, you know.”
Banks wanted to hit something. Something named Sawyer Renne. “Did he hurt you?”
“What? No! I only meant he wouldn’t have thought I knew about the drugs. I feel so dumb about how I freaked out. It’s not like he uses it. It’s for clients; a professional service.”
“But he kept drugs in your garage.” Banks tried not to make it a question and hoped he’d guessed right.
“Only one packet of joints and only because he was staying overnight at the Egret and didn’t want to keep it in his room.”
Banks remembered how anxious Renne had been until he’d seen the burned area of the garage. He doubted a few joints were the cause. “Good thing it was just marijuana,” he said, hoping to keep her talking. If she didn’t know about the cocaine, she might have thought Renne wasn’t breaking the law.
But his first instincts had been right. Hallie was very smart.
“You didn’t know, did you? You lied to me.”
Banks was caught fair and square. He stood holding a bucket of tiny plastic blocks and was shamed by the glare of a teenage girl. Left with no other honorable option, he told her the truth.
“I’ll hand over my badge and gun when we get to the office,” he said as the Chief pulled away from the Overton house. “Do you want a written resignation, or am I fired?”
There’d been yelling and the ubiquitous tears from Melanie when the sisters learned that Banks hadn’t been in the basement with the younger kids, but upstairs with Hallie and a sleeping toddler. Then Hallie told them how he’d had gotten her to confess that she’d known Sawyer was using the garage to store his drug supplies. Threats of lawsuits had followed them out the door.
“Do you want to quit?” McNamara asked.
“I’m not a cop.” Banks knew that much was true. He wasn’t just bad at his job, he was in the wrong place, doing the wrong thing.
“Work out a two-week notice,” McNamara said.
Banks nodded but wondered if he’d last that long.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Wrapping up the Overtons’ work was easier said than done, but it offered Grace a temporary reprieve from the tension in the office. Ernie’s Royal Rides hadn’t responded to the letter she had sent by fax and email, and she decided not to wait for the car rental agency to ignore the snail mail version. She might not learn anything helpful, but it would get her out of Mallard Bay for a few hours. That was enough incentive to drive over the bridge and into Baltimore County traffic.
She’d missed the worst of the morning congestion and tried to enjoy the expansive views across the Chesapeake Bay from the top of the bridge. Unfortunately, once she was on the western shore, there was plenty of less exciting landscape that allowed her mind to wander. The conversation she’d had with Mosley made her sad, but pushing it aside took her back to the breakfast with Niki and from there to the argument with David.
His demand that she return to Washington sent fresh spurts of anger through her every time she thought about it. It had been his fastest reversal, ever. He’d jumped from ‘we can live wherever you want’ to ‘come back to DC, or else’ in three days. Grace had opted for ‘else’. While satisfying at the moment, there was too much unanswered, and she knew David would only double down.
She made herself eat a pack of stale cheese crackers she found in the bottom of her tote and drink a bottle of water. She felt better afterward and tried to think about her trip to France.
Travel had always been a passion for her, but life had other plans. College led to law school. Law school led to work. Work to David. Her mother’s death brought her to Mallard Bay. And here she was at thirty-eight, coming into middle-age and desperate to start over on her own terms. Terms that kept changing.
She’d wanted a commitment from David for years, and here he was, ring in hand and a waterfront estate for a wedding gift. Three years ago, she’d have had a better shot of winning the Powerball. Today, the thought of David on forever terms made her panic.
She’d wanted to give her mother her last wish, to see Delaney House restored to its former glory. She’d used all the skills Julia had taught her and sunk most of her money into the project, fully intending to make a sizable profit. Now, the house was not only renovated; it was worthy of its place in history. But at some point in the long process, the old building had gotten under Grace’s skin and burrowed into her soul. She had to sell it or be cash poor for the rest of her life. But not selling it was fast becoming an obsession, and was the reason she’d let Niki talk her into using it as an inn.
And then there was the overriding want that had been in her heart since childhood, but the possibility of a real, complete family wasn’t realistic, and she needed to let it go.
By the time she’d followed the GPS navigation system to the rental agency, she was berating herself for deciding to drive into Baltimore. The clipped British accent of the voice she’d named Nigel usually made her smile. Today it was just irritating as it directed her up Route 2, then took her along a rat’s nest of run-down streets and construction zones. When she arrived at a concrete block building with a hokey castle facade, Ernie’s Royal Rides turned out to be only two miles from I-97. Nigel had saved her ten miles and cost her thirty minutes.
Ernie Sherman was as unpleasant in person as he had been on the phone. Grace waited for him to finish with a couple renting a Mercedes convertible, and watched him argue with the man, ogle the woman, and in general, act like an ass. When he finally turned his attention to her, she abandoned her plan to ask for Heath Overton’s rental contract.
“What’s a cutie like you lookin’ for?” Ernie asked as he maneuvered his beach ball belly in her direction.
Having not been called ‘cute’ since she was five, Grace had to un-bite her tongue before answering. Her hesitation prompted Ernie to add, “Sweet Thing, I got a Mustang over here with your name on it. All tricked out and ready to go.”
She gave him what she hoped was a smile and said, “Sounds fun for someone else, but I have my heart set on a Land Rover.”
“Land Rover? Oh, darlin’. You’re too fine for that. You need showy — ”
“I need,” she said, unable to simper a second more, “a Land Rover, preferably an HSE. Do you have one, or not?”
“Not. But I got something better. Look at the Jag over there. That baby screams class.”
“Can you recommend another dealership? A friend of mine told me she’d had good service from you, but I’ll tell you’re not handling the higher end Land Rovers anymore.”
“Don’t do that,” Ernie said. “It’s just that the one I have is out right now.”
Grace sighed theatrically. “So you do have a one? Is it new?”
“Almost brand new.” Ernie’s eyes all but disappeared into folds of fat as he winked. Or had a seizure; it was hard to tell.
“I can’t wait long,” she said and took out her wallet. “When can I pick it up?”
“You coulda walked outta here with it, but
the guy who has it didn’t return it on time. That’s the problem, see? His wife says he’ll be back any minute, so I can get it to you soon.”
“My goodness! Can’t the police find it for you?” Then, because he was beginning to look suspicious, she said, “Never mind, I don’t want it after someone has stolen it.”
“Oh, it’ll be in good shape,” Ernie assured her. “The woman with guy was nagging about him gettin’ fingerprints on the finish. Drove the poor sucker crazy as they were loading their luggage. A real ball-buster, that one. She wanted to drive the Rover, but her license had more points than I could count and I said nothin’ doin’. Well, didn’t she give me a load of crap? She only shut up when he said he’d buy her one when they got home.”
Grace struggled to hide her disappointment. This couldn’t be Heath Overton. “Do you only have the one Land Rover?”
“Yes. And I’ll have it for you soon if the wife is telling the truth. A’ course she didn’t know about the chickie who was hangin’ on her husband while he was rentin’ my Rover, and I didn’t tell her. And, I didn’t tell her that Little Miss Chickie was calling herself his wife, too.”
Ernie Sherman and Baltimore traffic occupied Grace for the next two hours. She’d just cleared the worst of the congestion on Route 50 when Whitney Overton called.
“How bad do you think this is?” Whitney asked after describing the morning visit from McNamara and Banks.
“It’s hard to say. I’ll talk to Chief McNamara,” Grace wished she could do anything else but that. She was running over the points she’d make to him when she realized Whitney was crying. While she would expect Melanie to cry over a grocery list, hearing the soft sobs from Whitney shocked her.
“None of this makes any sense,” Whitney said when she’d collected herself. “Heath wouldn’t do this to us. To me. He never makes me feel as if I’m second to anyone, and he never shuts me out. I love my sister, but her story about her last conversation with Heath changes every time she tells it. Something bad happened that last night he was here, but she won’t talk about it. I don’t think Melanie has ever successfully kept a secret from me before, so this is scary. Maybe Heath’s in danger, or he might be hurt and can’t get to us.”
Bad Intent Page 11