Solomon's Compass

by Carol Kilgore

  “I can’t imagine what possessed him to cut up the belt he loved more than anything except for you and the other Compass Points.”

  “He loved you more than any of us. And more than the belt.”

  Her emotions threatened to erupt again, and she took a couple of deep breaths, counting to work through her grief and focus her mind elsewhere.

  Jake was rubbing his thumb over the lapis stones. “Randy’s stone was the largest. Each of these pieces is almost as large as the stone in my belt. He didn’t send you a letter? Leave a message for you with his lawyer?”

  The buried box. A clue about the watch must be inside. She couldn’t tell Jake about the box. Randy said to tell no one. She raised her chin. “I didn’t find the watch with Randy’s things. Not his personal belongings, I mean, in the house.”

  “Where did you find it?”

  “Out in the shop.”

  “Show me.”

  They started across the yard, and Jake stopped at the bin. “Did all this trash come out of the house?”

  “Most. Some came from the shop. We haven’t finished going through it yet.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “Dan Blair. From the gallery. He also owns an antique shop in the same area. Echoes.”

  “Bravo. Echo.”

  She snapped around to face him. “You get it, too.”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “Also Mike’s Golf and Juliet’s Tango.”

  “Bravo, Echo, Golf, Juliet, Mike, and Tango.” He counted them off on his fingers.

  “The letters don’t spell anything. And the flag meanings don’t make any sense if they’re combined. I presume the letters and flags have a meaning, but Dan and I have been so busy I keep forgetting to ask him about it.”

  “Dan has been helping you go through everything?”

  “Yes. He was here when I sliced my fingers and took me to the emergency clinic.”

  Jake frowned.

  “What?”

  “Awfully convenient, don’t you think?”

  Taylor bristled. “Convenient? For me. Dan’s a total sweetheart. He wouldn’t harm anyone for any reason.”

  Jake stopped her. “Taylor. Look at me.”

  She turned her head. Jake’s green eyes held tenderness and concern. “I’m not assessing blame.”

  “No?”

  “No.” He caressed her cheek. “I’m exploring avenues. Sorting through possibilities. However you cut your hands, it wasn’t an accident, was it?”

  Damn him.

  “Taylor?”

  She sucked in a big breath. “No. But the police are looking into it.”

  Jake nodded. “Okay, then. Forgive me?”

  His attention focused solely on her. No one had ever looked at her the way Jake did. She smiled. “Of course.”

  “Good. Let’s go see where you found the watch.”

  Taylor took a step and tripped over a rock, thinking more about Jake’s eyes than where her feet landed.

  Jake caught her elbow. “Okay?”

  “Fine. Thanks for keeping me off my face.” His touch sent heat rushing up her spine, for all the good it would do. Sexy women didn’t go around tripping on rocks.

  Sexy? Where had that come from? For starters, she wasn’t sexy. Mark had always made her feel sexy, but that was because they’d been in love. Yesterday’s dress didn’t count.

  She pushed sexy aside, and they continued to the shop. Jake held the door open while she flicked on the light.

  “Jesus H.” He planted his hands on his hips while he surveyed the mayhem.

  “Ha. Looks good now. Over here are the items Dan wants. Everything in the back right quarter came out of the house—what didn’t go straight to the trash bin. We haven’t gone through the rest of what’s in here.”

  “You said you found the watch here? In this mess?”

  “This morning I came out to remove more trash. I started at the back on the first full row of tables.”

  Jake rubbed his neck. “Randy was a squared-away sailor. Neat, even in the jungle. The one time I came here to visit, he kept his house as clean as an old spinster’s. What the hell went wrong?”

  She shook her head, unable to fathom her uncle hoarding a building full of junk. “I wish I knew the answer. I remember the neat-freak Randy, too. His shop had more actual marine gear. A lot of parts. Maybe he detoured into the junk business and couldn’t find his way back.”

  Jake scooped a handful of tiny shells from a bowl and let them trickle back through his fingers. “Show me where you found the watch.”

  She led him to the table from hell. “Here. This is the last one I cleared. You have to visualize the table. See how the others are toward the front? Old magazines, papers, and fishing line everywhere?”

  He nodded.

  “Compared to how this one looked, those are tidy. I’m wondering if he made this table chaotic on purpose.”

  “Why?” The word was clipped, more an order than a question.

  The expression in his eyes changed. Her words had brought an idea into focus for him, and he jumped all over it.

  “Two reasons. One, if someone came in here hunting, to the untrained eye everything is rubbish. Nothing else. Two, if someone knew the watchband was here, they might have gone straight to that table because it looked the worst. Pages torn from magazines and crumbled into balls. Paper towels, newspapers—you name it. Fishing line”—she traced a large circle with her arm—”wound around items, and in one place even wound around the table.”

  “Like tying up a package with a bow. Any pattern?”

  She shook her head. “Not that I could tell.”

  Jake nodded.

  “I started looking for booby traps after a while. The band lay in the bottom of a mug. I didn’t know what it was until I picked it up” She pointed to the checkerboard grouping.

  “Which mug?”

  She touched the rim of the white mug in the middle of the box.

  “In the center—like the lapis stone on his buckle.”

  “I can’t figure out why he cut up his belt.”

  “Let’s go inside. We need to get comfortable. I’m going to tell you a long story.”

  When she turned from locking the door, Will strode toward them. He nodded in Jake’s direction but stopped in front of her. “I just got another phone call.”

  Taylor shoved her hands into the pockets of her shorts and balled them into loose fists to keep from pulling out her own phone to check for a missed call. And worked to wipe the frown from her face. Damn if she’d let the caller see her nervous, because gunnels to gangways he was watching from someplace he felt safe—with a pair of high-powered binoculars. “What did he say? Did you recognize the voice?”

  “No.” Will ran his hand through his hair. “Whispers. Like Trinh said. Man? Woman? No way to tell.”

  Jake interrupted. “What’s this about another call? Is there some sort of threat?”

  Will’s nostrils flared. “It doesn’t concern you.”

  “It does if it concerns Taylor.”

  Men. She shook her head and placed her palm on Jake’s arm. “I’ll fill you in later.”

  Will kicked at a large shell near the edge of the driveway. The muscles in his jaw clenched and unclenched. “You think that’s a good idea? What if he made the calls?”

  Her hands bolted into the air. “Will. Jake’s been with me for the past ten minutes or so. More like fifteen. What did the caller say?”

  He shot a glance at Jake before answering. “Trinh went to the back for an odd-size filter. I picked up. The person said, ‘You’re next,’ and hung up.

  Taylor pulled her phone from her pocket and punched in Glen’s speed dial number. Screw the caller, watching or not. Will didn’t know about her last phone call. She wouldn’t be responsible for him ending up like Randy.

  “Up—”

  “It’s Taylor Campbell. I’m at Randy’s. Will just came over.”

  Jake cocked his head.


  “He got another call.”

  “Put him on.”

  She held the phone out to Will. “Detective Upchurch.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Taylor saw Jake nod. He’d be happy knowing she hadn’t lied about the police involvement.

  “Hi, Glen. . . . Right, like the voice Trinh described. . . . ‘You’re next’. . . . No, nothing else. . . . Not since the other one. . . . Not a clue. . . . Okay, here she is.” He handed her phone back.

  “Me again.” A bee buzzed her head, and she ducked.

  Jake’s fingers touched her arm—she guessed to make sure she didn’t lose her balance. The electricity between them still flowed.

  “You did right to call me. Do it anytime. I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.”

  “Oh, I’m going sailing with Will in the afternoon.”

  “Keep your eyes open.”

  They said goodbye, and she hung up.

  “Does he have any idea who’s been calling me?” Will’s hands rested on his hips. “Does he think the calls are related to your uncle?”

  She shook her head. “He didn’t say.”

  “I’m going to contact the phone company Monday. Tell them to do something. This is crazy. I’ve got a business to run.” He touched her arm and inclined his chin toward Jake. “You gonna be okay?”

  She smothered a smile. She’d be better with Jake than with anyone else. “I’ll be fine. You?”

  “If I find out who’s making the calls, I’m gonna make him wish he’d never seen a phone. Otherwise, yeah. Hasta mañana.”

  Jake watched Will until he was out of sight in the boatyard. Next to him, he sensed Taylor’s tenseness by the way she barely moved and the slight throaty sounds when she exhaled.

  He turned to her. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

  A frown crossed her forehead. “Will repaired a catamaran, and he’s taking her out for a run. He asked if I wanted to hitch a ride. Who could resist sea trials on a cat?” Her frown changed into a smile as she talked.

  He understood her love of the sea. It didn’t change the problem of watching out for her safety. “When are you going?”

  “Noon. I’m guessing right out in the bay. He’ll want to get her up to speed, challenge her integrity. The hulls were messed up pretty bad.”

  If the cat kept to the bay, he could deal with that. “Tell me about the phone calls.”

  She squeezed her hands together, but stayed silent.

  “You’ve received them, too, haven’t you?”

  She nodded.

  The time had come for him to fill Taylor in on part of the story. “I’d like to hear about them. Randy talked about you a lot. He said his will left everything to you, and that if something happened to him, I should keep an eye out.”

  The heel of her right foot tapped a fast beat on the shell drive. “If something happened? Had Randy been receiving phone calls, too?”

  “Not that I know about. Randy also said you were focused, and if anybody could make heads or tails of what happened to him, it would be you.”

  Taylor faced Jake full on. “What do you mean by what happened to him? When did he tell you this? Have you been following me since he died?”

  Jake rubbed his knuckles over his chin. “I’ve kept track of you since he died. His death may not have been an accident. I’ll go into when we shared that particular conversation later.”

  “Convenient.”

  “Actually, yes. It’s my story.”

  Taylor bumped her forehead with the heels of her hands. She didn’t like not being in command. His lips twitched, but smiling might not be a good idea if he wanted to come away bruise-free. Even though she was tiny.

  “I’ll tell you all I know, but it’s too hot out here. How about we go inside.”

  He stopped just inside the door. “Let’s get something on the table. Life’s too damn short to play games. I have no right to come sniffing around, but I like you. I meant that last night, and I mean it right now. Whatever you want to do . . . the ball’s in your court.”

  “I appreciate the attention. I do. You’re the first man I’ve been attracted to in a long time. But I don’t partake in vacation flings, and I’m not interested in a relationship with anyone right now. Your home is in New York. I’m going back to Charleston in less than a week. I’ll make captain soon, and move a couple more times. I might stick around and give admiral a shot. I don’t have time for a personal life.”

  “Up close and personal is where life is, Taylor. Don’t let it pass you by.”

  “Nothing’s passing me by. This is my choice.”

  Her sharp tone wasn’t lost on him. He’d been the same way—a Type A go-getter. He’d hit a nerve, and he took it as a good sign. Somewhere along the way she’d been hurt, and right now she was reliving it. The pain in her eyes squeezed his heart.

  “Can I help?” His voice softened.

  She blinked and returned from wherever she’d been. “What? Oh. I’m okay.” The last word trailed off.

  The lady harbored deep secrets—secrets that didn’t stand out in her file. Jake planned to learn what they were. They’d been talking about relationships. Taylor’s involvements had been either short or lasted a year or two, and there hadn’t been that many. All had ended by mutual agreement.

  Kelly had made a note about a fling with an Academy classmate, but that was almost twenty years ago. He’d ask her to dig deeper. Something unusual had caused Taylor’s strong reaction.

  If Jake found the bastard who had hurt her, he’d teach him a lesson. “I’m here, but I won’t ever force anything. You have my word.”

  She stepped forward and rested her forehead against his sternum. “You’re a good man, Jake Solomon. I like you, too. More than I should, since we only met yesterday. Officially.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed the side of his chin.

  His arms ached to hold her, but he kept them at his sides. “I always fall for the tough ones. Never fails. Sit down and tell me about the phone calls, and I’ll share what I know.”

  Taylor talked and Jake listened, making a mental note to ask Kelly to find answers. As soon as he figured out the right questions.

  She sat forward and leaned her elbows on the table. “I thought the first call was a joke on Will. Or a prank. I knew different when I received a call, but I told myself not to worry. Maybe something important or valuable was mixed in with Randy’s junk and the caller wanted me gone. The third call implied that Randy’s death wasn’t an accident. I think whoever is making the calls might have killed Randy.”

  Jake wasn’t ready to talk about Rankin’s murder just yet. “Maybe Randy trusted someone here and that person is protecting his trust because they believe you’re the threat.”

  Taylor shot from her chair and held out her hands. “That’s crazy. No one would do this to protect a man who’s dead.”

  Taylor’s phone rang, and both she and Jake flinched. Of all times—just when she was going to learn more about Randy. “Excuse me. I have to answer.”

  She pressed the connection key. “Hello, Mother.” Her mother possessed a knack for calling at inopportune moments, and she would talk until she finished what she had to say. No matter what.

  Jake smiled.

  She stuck out her tongue.

  “Must you always answer that way, Taylor? Whatever happened to a civil hello?”

  “It’s good to talk to you, too.”

  “I don’t have much time. We’re leaving here a few days early, and the plane is ready to board. We’ll stay longer in Buenos Aires.”

  Jake stood and motioned he’d be outside. She waved him back to the chair and made a yakking motion with her fingers.

  “You didn’t like skiing?” All her mother had talked about for weeks was skiing in Chile.

  “One or two days is enough. You know I’m a city woman.”

  Taylor shook her head. “You’re bored already. How long will this marriage last?”

  “None of your business, Taylor Anne. How much longer ar
e you going to be on that boat? A lot of nice southern men live in Charleston. Wealthy southern men.”

  “Come find one for yourself after you get rid of what’s-his-name.” As if her mother would ever appear on her doorstep. They didn’t engage in many face-to-face meetings. When they did meet, it occurred on neutral ground. She glanced up, pressing her lips together and biting down to keep from laughing at Jake’s expression and raised eyebrows.

  “Tsk. You could do worse, Taylor. Much worse. Believe me, I know.”

  “I’m sure you do.” She’d encountered a couple of her mother’s lovers.

  “They’re calling our flight. Ciao.”

  “Goodbye, Mother.” She said the words to dead air.

  Jake reached across and covered her hand. “A lot of love in that call.”

  She sighed. “I do love her. She’s my mother, but we’ve never been friends. We don’t think alike, and our priorities are totally different.”

  “I understand that. My old man and I . . . well, I’m just a wannabe.”

  “Tell me your story.” Since they met she’d yearned to understand what gave this man the drive and energy that swirled around him. Maybe his relationship with his father.

  “The full version is boring. Let me start with the short take. It will be plenty long, believe me. Feel free to ask questions.”

  “Go for it.” Maybe one day she’d get all the details.

  He pulled a leather case from his shirt pocket and handed her a card. “I gave you my personal card earlier. This is who I am to the rest of the world.”

  She read it aloud. “Compass Points International. Jacob P. Solomon, President. Ooh, Fifth Avenue. Your accent is Brooklyn.”

  “I’m from Brooklyn. How did you learn to recognize a Brooklyn accent?”

  She hadn’t meant to let him know she recognized it. Her comment slipped out when she read Fifth Avenue. “It’s stronger than a regular New York accent. That’s all. Compass Points . . . you named your company for your Coast Guard friends.”

  He studied her face before nodding. As direct as he was, an undercurrent of secrecy ran beneath his words. She sensed the secrets would be the details that would make the story of his life exciting.

  “What does Compass Points do?”