“I don’t believe that for a second. No one commits murder because of a forty-year-old book. You’re making up stories, just like you did when you were a girl. This is about the money, isn’t it?”
“No.”
“Of course it is,” Orinda said. “You have always resented Dawson’s inheritance and the trust funds I established for the twins, even though I have explained that you have no right to that money because you have no biological connection to the Strickland line.”
“I remember that talk. I told you then, and I’m telling you now, I’m not interested in the Strickland money.”
“It’s always about the money,” Orinda shot back. Anger and conviction rang in her voice. “I would think that after all we’ve done for you, you would be willing to do this one small favor in return. If your sense of family obligation is so lacking, however, you have my word that you will be compensated for your efforts.”
Maybe it was the rare show of emotion or simply the rising panic in Orinda’s voice. Whatever the source, it triggered Abby’s intuition. She straightened in the chair and braced her elbows on the table.
“This is as close to groveling as I have ever known you to come, Mrs. Strickland.”
“I’m not groveling, you ungrateful woman. I’m trying to make you understand that you have a responsibility to help your brother in this crisis.”
“Stepbrother,” Abby said automatically. “No bloodline connection, remember?”
“That is beside the point. We are a family. Dawson says he could be looking at prison.”
“Look, I understand that he’s facing bankruptcy, but unless he was the one who was running the Ponzi scheme, I doubt that the Feds will charge him with a crime.”
“Don’t you understand?” Orinda said. “Whoever lured Dawson into that scheme made sure that when it fell apart, Dawson would take the fall.”
“Okay, okay, calm down. Sounds like this all comes down to money. If Dawson is forced to pay off some clients, he can borrow the money from the Strickland trust. Surely he can get a loan from you.”
There was a short, jarring silence.
“That is not an option,” Orinda said in a flat voice. “The trust is almost entirely depleted.”
“What?”
“I had Dawson invest almost the full amount into that damned Ponzi scheme.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake. I’m no expert on financial management, but didn’t anyone ever give you the talk on diversification of assets? And what about the if–it–looks-too-good–to–be–true–it–probably–is–too-good–to–be–true speech?”
“Don’t you dare lecture me, Abigail.” Orinda’s voice was electrified with anger and tension. “What’s done is done. It’s not Dawson’s fault that the money is gone. Dawson was the victim of a scam. But as a result, the entire family is facing financial ruin. You have got to find that book, Abigail. It’s the least you can do after all the trouble you caused us.”
The phone went dead in Abby’s hand. She looked at Sam.
“In case you didn’t figure it out, that was Dawson’s grandmother, Orinda Strickland.”
“The one who made sure you knew that you were not going to inherit a dime of her money?” Sam asked.
“Yep. Evidently, there is no longer a dime left to be inherited. It seems that she put virtually all of the Strickland money into the Ponzi scheme.”
Sam whistled softly and shook his head. He did not say anything.
“I expect the next call will be from Dawson’s mother.”
“Your stepmother.”
“Yes.” Abby drummed her fingers on the table. “Although I suppose it’s possible they’ll get Dad to contact me. It’s not like he was going to inherit anything, because he did sign that prenup, but as long as the marriage lasts, he gets to enjoy the many benefits of the Strickland money. If he knows the faucet has been turned off and that the twins’ inheritance is at stake, he’ll pay attention.”
“You think he’ll be worried about your half sisters’ trust fund?”
“Jessica and Laura are Dad’s do–over kids,” Abby explained. “Part of the image of the modern family of choice. They’re attending a very expensive private college. He won’t want to see their tuition cut off.”
“This situation,” Sam said, “is getting complicated for you.”
“Yes, it certainly is.” She rose. “I’m going to take a walk. I need some fresh air to clear my head.”
Newton sprang to his feet at the word walk.
“I’ll come with you,” Sam said.
Abby turned in the doorway. “I thought you said I’d be safe here on the island.”
“You’re safe.” Sam put his empty mug on the counter. “I just want to go with you. Do you mind?”
“Suit yourself.”
“So gracious,” he said, not quite under his breath. “And after all I’ve done for you.”
For the first time in her life, she knew what it meant to see red. She was so outraged, she could scarcely speak.
“Don’t you dare try to guilt-trip me,” she fumed. “I’ve just spent the past few minutes talking to a world-class expert.”
Sam grinned. “Couldn’t resist.”
She tried to stay mad, but she just did not have the energy for it. She burst into laughter instead.
“Your sense of humor leaves a lot to be desired,” she said.
The misty rain had cleared. The day was starting to warm slowly, but the air was still cool and damp. Abby bundled up in a jacket. Sam put on a windbreaker. Once outside, Newton dashed about madly, bobbing in and out of the trees, glorying in his newfound off-leash freedom.
“I think he hears the call of the wild,” Abby said.
“For a condo dog, he certainly has adapted to the country life in a hurry.”
Abby looked at the three other houses just barely visible through the woods. “So this is the Coppersmith family compound.”
“One of them. There’s another one down in Sedona.”
Abby gestured toward the houses. “Who lives in those places?”
“My folks built that one for themselves.” He pointed to a modern-looking house that overlooked the water. “My mother never did like the old house. Judson and Emma use the other two when they’re on the island. We’re a close family, but we like our privacy. Also, my parents have long-range visions of a large, extended family with plenty of grandkids.”
“But none of you have married.”
“Not yet. Mom is starting to push. I think that’s why she and Dad got so excited about my relationship with Cassidy. They were so sure she was the one. They’re convinced that I’m pining away here on the island, nursing a broken heart.”
“I know you aren’t brokenhearted, but do you think it’s possible that when you were unable to solve the murder you may have become somewhat obsessed with your sense of failure?” Abby asked gently.
“Sure.” Sam smiled, a slow, cold smile. “But everything has changed now. I’m on the trail, thanks to you.”
They walked across the clearing and came to a halt at the top of the rocky bluff above the cove.
“Why did your mother name this cove Copper Beach?” Abby asked.
Sam’s mouth kicked up at the corner. “One of these days you’ll see for yourself.”
Not far offshore, a pod of orcas sliced through the waters. The massive black-and-white creatures rose out of the waves in graceful, acrobatic leaps, only to disappear back into the depths.
“That’s one of the resident pods,” Sam said. “The researchers have them all identified, named and logged. No two orcas have exactly the same markings. Each pod even has its own dialect of the whale language.”
“They’re stunning when you see them up close like this,” Abby said. “They look like they’re dancing.”
“They’re hunting. Takes a lot of food to keep an eight-ton animal going. Looks like they’ve found a school of salmon. They’ll work it as a team, driving the fish up against one of the underwater
cliffs here on Legacy. Once the salmon are trapped, the orcas will pull out the knives and forks, otherwise known as very large teeth.”
“Nature in the raw. Literally. I prefer my salmon cooked.”
“Got news for you, the local fishermen often use the same technique to catch the salmon you eat. Hunting tactics don’t vary all that much from one species to another.” Sam’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his jacket and checked the screen. Then he took the call. “Sorry, Dad. Nothing much to report. I told you I’d call as soon as I had something for you.”
There was a short pause.
“That’s not necessary, Dad,” Sam said evenly. “You and Mom already have plans to come up here next week for the tech summit. No need to arrive early.”
Another pause.
“I see,” Sam said. He sounded resigned. He ended the call and looked at Abby. “That was my father.”
“Bad news?” she asked, concerned.
“Depends on your point of view. He and Mom are on their way here to the island. They’re due to arrive this afternoon.”
25
THE COPPER BEACH DINER WAS NEARLY EMPTY WHEN ABBY arrived. By the time the young waitress brought the coffee to the booth, the place was half full, and more of the locals were ambling in every minute.
“You’re good for business,” the waitress said in low tones. “Between you and me, the boss is thrilled. Problem is, the only things people are ordering are coffee and doughnuts.”
The server looked to be about nineteen. She was cheerful, friendly and unabashedly curious. Her blond hair was secured in a tight ponytail. Her uniform consisted of a pair of jeans and a T–shirt. She was not wearing a name tag. In a town the size of Copper Beach, there was probably no need for one, Abby reflected. She had heard some of the other customers greet the waitress as Brenda.
“Don’t knock the coffee and doughnuts,” Abby said, in an equally soft voice. “High-profit items.”
“Sure, for the boss. But people who only order coffee and doughnuts don’t leave much in the way of a tip.”
“Yes, I know. I’ve done this kind of work. Sorry about that. Maybe I should put up a sign that says minimum order of a hamburger required if you’re here to see the stranger in town. And there will be an extra charge for viewing the dog out front.”
Brenda snickered. Abby glanced around the crowded restaurant. Several pairs of eyes quickly slid away. The buzz of artificial conversation got louder. Most of it revolved around fishing and the state of the weather.
“I realize you don’t get a lot of tourists here on the island,” she said to Brenda, “but are they such a rare species that everyone in town turns out to view a specimen?”
Brenda giggled and leaned closer, on the pretext of collecting the menu. “It’s true, we aren’t exactly a destination stop in the San Juans. We’re not Friday Harbor, that’s for sure. Most folks don’t even know that Legacy exists, and that’s the way people around here like it. The biggest event here all year is coming up next week, that’s the annual Coppersmith technical summit. The employees of the R-and-D lab and their families fill up the lodge and the bed-and-breakfast places. There is always a big barbecue on the last night. The whole town is invited.”
“What makes me so interesting?”
Brenda winked. “The fact that you’re staying out at Sam Coppersmith’s place, of course.”
“He doesn’t have a lot of guests, I take it.”
“Are you kidding?” Brenda straightened and did an eye roll. “He hasn’t brought a lady friend here since his fiancée was murdered.”
“The way I heard it, they were not engaged.”
“Well, they weren’t. She got killed before they could make it official. But everyone on the island knew that Sam was going to marry her. Losing her like that just about broke his heart.”
“I see.”
“There was a lot of nasty talk after he found the body. Online, they were calling him Blackbeard. They said any smart woman should be scared to death of him.”
“Bluebeard,” Abby said.
“Huh?”
“Bluebeard was the name of the seventeenth-century nobleman who was in the habit of murdering his wives, not Blackbeard.”
“Oh, yeah. Whatever. Anyhow, the fact that he brought you here is a very big deal. Means his broken heart is mending.”
Abby watched Sam walk down the street toward the diner. He had just come out of the post office, but he wasn’t carrying any mail. He nodded at the people he passed. They greeted him in a comfortable, relaxed manner.
Newton, secured to a post by his leash, spotted Sam approaching and got to his feet to greet him.
“No one from around here believed for a single minute that Sam had anything to do with that poor woman’s murder, you know,” Brenda whispered earnestly.
Abby watched Sam pause to scratch Newton behind the ears. “I understand. They believed he was innocent because they knew him and knew the family. They couldn’t imagine him committing murder.”
“Well, sure, everyone knows the Coppersmiths. They own most of the island. But that’s not the reason we all figured Sam didn’t kill his fiancée.”
“What was the reason?” Abby asked politely. She braced for the answer she knew was coming.
“Simple,” Brenda said, with an air of triumph. “Like my dad says, if one of the Coppersmith men decided to murder someone, you can bet there wouldn’t be anything left behind to tie him to the scene. Either it would look like an accident or else the body would just disappear. Not that hard to make that happen around here.” Brenda nodded in the direction of the small bay. “Lotta deep water out there.”
“I’ve heard that theory,” Abby said.
“Yeah, well, obviously you don’t think he killed that poor woman. You wouldn’t be here if you did, right? Oops, gotta go.” Brenda grimaced. “The boss is giving me one of his get-back–to–work looks.”
She whisked herself off in the direction of the coffee machine.
Sam opened the door and walked into the diner. Every head in the room swiveled in his direction. There were several rounds of cheerful greetings. Sam responded to the friendly gauntlet with the easy familiarity of someone who knows everyone in the room.
He made his way to the booth where Abby sat alone with her coffee, and lowered himself down onto the vinyl seat on the other side of the table.
Brenda materialized instantly, a thick mug and a pot of coffee in her hands.
“Morning, Sam,” she said, her cheeks pink with excitement. “Coffee?”
“Yes, thanks, Brenda. How’s your grandmother? Heard she was having some problems.”
“She went to see that specialist in Seattle, like your mom suggested. They ran some tests, and he put her on some new meds. They seem to be working. Her blood pressure is under control again.”
“Good. Glad to hear it.”
Brenda poured the coffee and gave him a dazzling smile. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No, coffee is fine for now. We’re waiting for my folks. Dixon is bringing them over from Anacortes. Should be here in a few minutes.”
“It’ll be nice to see them again,” Brenda said.
She went back behind the counter and started to pour coffee.
The background noise of conversation that had faded for a bit returned in full force. Sam raised his mug to swallow some coffee. He stopped when he saw that Abby was looking at him.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“No,” Abby said.
“Okay.” Sam shrugged and took a sip.
Abby glared. “Don’t be dense. Do you realize that everyone in this diner, probably everyone in town, assumes that we’re involved in a relationship?”
Sam struggled with that question for a few seconds and then gave up. “We are involved in a relationship.”
“Maybe, but it’s complicated.” She tipped her head slightly, to indicate the crowded restaurant. “Your neighbors here don’t understand the nuances. They th
ink we’re in a more personal relationship.”
“Yeah.” Sam drank some more and lowered the mug. He smiled. “That, too.”
She leaned forward. “I’m concerned that there will be some widespread misunderstanding here, Coppersmith. This is your home, not mine. What about the gossip?”
“What about it? This is a small town and a small island. Gossip is the lifeblood of the community.”
Copper Beach: A Dark Legacy Novel Page 19