Changing Tides

by Veronica Mixon

  Erica barely spared Kate a glance. “Because she has Owen.”

  Erica sat with Roslyn at an oval breakfast table in front of a window with a garden view. A uniformed officer stood on the back porch talking on his cell.

  Cedar made himself comfortable in the chair adjacent to Roslyn.

  “What difference does it make if Jennifer has Owen?”

  “A drug ring’s taken over your island.” Her tone indicated her answer hit below the no-brainer level. And she raised one eyebrow, a pithy facial expression Nathan had come to dislike. “And a drug boat’s diving around your dock.”

  Kate’s eyes widened, but her mouth remained firmly closed.

  “And your cousin is now on the run,” she added.

  Nathan leaned against the counter and studied the group. Roslyn’s face was flushed, but otherwise unengaged in the conversation. She busied herself folding a napkin in a small, then smaller square. Spotting someone’s anxiety didn’t explain the why, just that something had caused discomfort. Roslyn’s demeanor had definitely changed since entering the house.

  Cedar sat stoic, a beacon of support. The normal and expected response for an attorney.

  “Someone broke into your mother’s house.” Erica used her pen to point down the hall. “Trashed the library but left the valuables.” She leaned forward. “Calvin’s briefcase was mysteriously left in the library, and he just happens to own that boat diving under your dock. Until we know what’s going on, I don’t want Owen unprotected.”

  Kate stiffened and seemed to grow by three inches.

  Nathan stepped forward, pulled out a chair, and sat. He slid Erica’s notepad closer, the top page appeared blank except for a couple of lines scribbled at the top. “A jade box is missing? That’s it?”

  Kate tilted her head, leaned over her mother, and tried to view Erica’s notes. “Nothing else is missing?” Her voice was filled with doubt and relief in equal measure.

  Roslyn’s shoulders ratcheted up around her ears. A spot on the table suddenly held her interest and she rubbed her napkin over the blot with vigor as the officer on porch called to a group walking through the back gate. A woman and two men made their way to the porch; each lugged black oversized leather cases. One of the men carried three clear cellophane bags that Nathan recognized as coveralls.

  Erica pushed away from the table. “Forensic crew’s here.” She opened the door and led the group through the kitchen and down the hall.

  Nathan turned to Roslyn. “What was in the missing box?”

  “A few old letters, some pictures.” She kept her eyes downcast.

  “Nothing more?” he asked.

  She exhaled, but didn’t meet Nathan’s eye. “A pendant and matching ring. “

  Cedar leaned over and murmured close to Roslyn’s ear, then patted her leg. It was an intimate gesture, not in the way of old friends.

  By the squint in Kate’s eye, Nathan assumed she didn’t know her mother and the family’s lawyer were more than old friends. As close as Roslyn and Kate appeared, it seemed odd the mother would keep that information from her only child.

  “Who knows your alarm code?” Nathan removed a pad from his pocket and began writing.

  “My housekeeper, Lila.” Roslyn’s voice was now softer than Nathan remembered. “Kate. Cedar.”

  Kate’s gaze remained on the attorney. The man she referred to as uncle, but who wasn’t.

  Keeping his voice even but his eyes trained on Roslyn, Nathan asked, “Did Calvin Thompson have the security code?”

  “Not Calvin.” Roslyn held his gaze, but based on her glinting eyes she took umbrage with his question. “But his wife, Beth, has the code. When I travel, she collects my mail. My nephew and his wife have nothing to do with this break-in.” Her tone gave the impression suggesting otherwise bordered on harassment.

  She was protective of her family. He got that. It’d be the same reaction if she were hiding something. “When was the last time Calvin visited you here?”

  “Six months ago.” Roslyn spoke decidedly. Odd she’d remember so quickly.

  “And his wife?”

  “They came together. Stopped in for drinks on the way to the club.”

  “Any reason your nephew might want something in the box?”

  Nathan glanced at Kate. She was looking in her mother’s direction, but her eyes were somewhere else. He was pretty sure she was stewing over the possible reasons her cousin broke into her mother’s home. Desperate for money didn’t ring true. Family knew what was valuable, what wasn’t, and, at a minimum he would’ve snatched the Russian egg.

  “I realize you found Calvin’s briefcase in the library,” Kate said. “But as Mom just indicated, he has access to a key and the security code. If he visited this morning, technically, it isn’t a burglary. And since we didn’t report a robbery.” She glanced in the direction of the officer on the porch. “Makes the house full of police rather strange.” He got the impression if the forensic team wasn’t already on site, Kate would’ve thrown them all out. She’d kept her voice even, but the undercurrent was powerful enough to throw Nathan off his chair.

  He mentally reshuffled his points. “I believe there’s a connection to this break-in, the dive boat, and the drug ring on your island.” Kate opened her mouth to speak and he charged on. “We believe you and your family could be in danger if you stay here.”

  Roslyn’s breath hitched.

  “That’s an asinine assumption.” Kate’s tone didn’t hold the conviction of her words. “You can’t know this break-in is connected to the drug ring. And how do you figure Cal’s boat’s connected?”

  “It’s the recovery skiff,” Nathan said.

  “The what?”

  “Thompson owns the recovery boat that picks up the drugs.” He waited, let his statement settle. Interested to see if the news surprised the group.

  Roslyn’s visceral signs leaned more to shock—shortened breath, staring into space.

  Cedar casually leaned against the back of his chair. But his tight jaw and nervous finger tap on the table were giveaways Nathan’s words brought discomfort.

  “I thought the drug ring was using the island.” Kate reached for a napkin and wiped a light sheen of perspiration above her lip.

  “The island’s used to prepare the contraband for distribution,” Nathan said. “But the initial drop is in front of your dock.” He gave Kate time to decipher his words, then said, “You have a mile of riverfront with minimum boat traffic. A perfect drop point for a crabber or a shrimper.”

  “Shrimpers and crabbers fish offshore, not the river,” Kate said.

  “They cruise by your channel coming and going from their home docks.”

  Kate’s face didn’t change, but an awful lot of things zipped through her eyes. Primarily fear. Fear was a difficult state to pin down, a diverse emotion appearing different on everyone. Nevertheless, when a person witnessed fear on a face, it was recognizable.

  Was Kate’s fear generated from the DEA suspecting her cousin dealt drugs or that the authorities suspected her family and she’d be guilty by association? “I’ve secured a safe house. We can move your family this afternoon.”

  “What?” Kate’s tone had all the notes of genuine shock. “Are you crazy?” Her words bounced around the ceiling.

  Cedar cleared his throat and leaned forward. “Exactly why are you proposing a protective detail?”

  No surprise the attorney would try and intercede. More surprising he hadn’t spoken up sooner.

  Nathan closed his notebook. “A drug cartel’s camped out on Ms. Landers’s land.” He stored his pen in his jacket pocket. “Her cousin’s already missing.”

  “No, he’s not,” Kate, said. “Just because he didn’t show up for work and you can’t locate him doesn’t mean he’s missing.” She spoke as if speed alone would make her words true.

  Cedar settled back in his chair, seemingly satisfied for Kate to take the lead in the argument. An attorney who didn’t rise to an argum
ent garnered a second look.

  “And”—Nathan looked at Roslyn—“if your mother’s right and the person who trashed her library isn’t Calvin Thompson, then the perp is quite adept at surpassing security alarms. Staying here isn’t smart. Until we know what’s going on, if it were my family, I’d want them somewhere safe and protected.”

  Kate pushed away from the table and stood. “I don’t need you to protect my family. I can afford to hire guards.”

  “You don’t want to depend on rent-a-cops to protect your loved ones from a drug cartel,” Nathan said.

  Roslyn reached for Cedar’s hand. He patted it absently.

  Kate’s expression turned flat, as if her interior light had extinguished. “But wouldn’t the drugs get wet if a shrimper dropped them in the water?”

  “Canister’s sealed.” Nathan tapped his wrist. “Like a dive watch.

  Roslyn’s face turned pasty, but Cedar Haynes’s only tell was a slight flicker of his eyelids.

  Kate’s breathing grew shorter, choppier. Not hyperventilating, but getting close. “Calvin wouldn’t put my family in jeopardy,” Kate said.

  “Your cousin knew you didn’t live at Spartina, knew the island was all but deserted.” Nathan let his statement hang.

  Erica walked into the kitchen and stopped just inside the door.

  Kate glanced at Cedar. He cleared his throat. “It seems a long shot to think a break-in in Roslyn’s home in downtown Savannah has anything to do with whatever’s happening on Barry Island.”

  “I don’t agree, Counselor.” Nathan turned back to Kate.

  “I don’t believe Cal’s involved with a drug ring.”

  “Your cousin’s in it up to his eyeballs,” Erica said. “And until we make the bust, you need to stay clear of Spartina, the island, and now even this house.”

  Roslyn’s gaze oscillated from Erica to Nathan and landed on the attorney, her expression a demand for him to intercede.

  He sat forward, eyes calculating, but made no effort to comment further.

  Nathan couldn’t get a read on the guy. Haynes was a well-respected pro bono defense attorney for the poor, privy to drug rings, gangs, and low-life crooks. He’d understand the risks, and Nathan had hoped the attorney would lend vocal support for a safe house.

  “If Calvin’s the perpetrator,” Kate said, “why haven’t you closed your case?”

  A reasonable point Nathan didn’t care to address at the moment.

  Kate cocked her head. “Because you don’t know for sure.” She nodded knowingly. “That’s it, isn’t it? Calvin owns the boat, but that’s not enough to make an arrest stick. You’re fishing, hoping I’ll say something that will incriminate my cousin.” She shot Nathan a look that would melt tungsten steel. “Well, let me assure you that will not happen. If a drug ring’s using my island, I expect you to arrest the trespassers. Now. Today.”

  “We’re not interested in the minions working your island,” Erica said. “And the how and when we arrest the perpetrators aren’t your concern.”

  Nathan sighed. Subtle and Erica—never the two will meet.

  Nathan jumped in. “Barry Island is your land, and you have a right to expect law enforcement to protect it.” He gave everyone a moment to let tempers cool. “We can identify the crew working the island, but Erica’s right, we want their boss.”

  Cedar leaned forward. “In other words, you have no idea who’s running the show.”

  Time to ease off. Nathan needed Kate’s cooperation. “We don’t see your cousin as the kingpin. But he knows who is. I want that name, and I’m willing to make a deal.”

  Kate shook her head. “Doesn’t make sense. Why would Cal sell drugs?”

  “Money,” Nathan said. “And a lot of it.”

  “Not enough to risk ruining his life.” Kate shook her head. “Cal just wouldn’t take that kind of chance.”

  “Yes,” Nathan said. “He would, and I’ll explain why.”

  She leaned against the counter, crossed her arms.

  “In every illicit organization,” Nathan said, “the primary goal is to acquire money. They also need money to operate. The state of South Carolina has zero regulation on the money transfer businesses.”

  Kate lifted a shoulder. “What’s that have to do with Calvin?”

  “Savannah’s within spitting distance of Charleston,” he said. “Muling cash across state lines is child’s play. Last year, eight billion dollars was wire transferred out of South Carolina, the majority of those funds laundered and untraceable.”

  Understanding flitted across Kate’s face. “You’re following the cartel’s money trail. That could take months, possibly years.”

  “We don’t think so,” Nathan said. “We’re very close to taking this group down.”

  “And your answer is to stick my family somewhere out of the way until you to figure out how to close your case?” Kate’s eyes flashed with stubbornness closing in on rage. “You’re basing this on a few isolated instances. Assuming the cartel’s a threat to my mother, my son, and me, but no real proof.”

  “After today, are you willing to take chances?” Nathan’s voice matched hers in volume, a notch above professional. He squashed his temper. “Our team’s lost two agents trying to shut this ring down. I refuse to risk civilian lives.”

  “I’m not willing to shove my family off to a hidden location for an indefinite period while you meander over my estate and stumble onto a way to close your case. My family is law abiding. We’re not going anywhere.”

  Nathan folded his hands on the table, took a breath and retrieved his bearings. “You think the Cabral family cares that your family is respected and law abiding? They know Calvin isn’t. You and your family are expendable. You don’t want to get in their way.”

  Kate kneaded her forehead. “It makes more sense to send Mom and Owen on vacation.” She looked at her mother. “I have some business issues, but I could join you in a few days.”

  Roslyn’s gaze slid past Kate, over Nathan, and landed on Cedar Haynes. “I agree we shouldn’t stay here. With Owen out of school, we can travel for a few weeks.”

  “The safe house would be more secure.” Nathan wasn’t one to give in, but by the look on Kate’s face arguing would net him nothing. “But it’s your choice. If you don’t leave with your mother and son, the safest place for you is with my team at Spartina.” He wanted eyes on Kate. All he needed was Calvin to contact her once to get his location, and he’d close this case.

  “I need to think.” She walked out the back door.

  It was mid-morning, the summer sun already blazing. Nathan leaned to one side to gain a clear view of Kate through the window.

  A group of red finches descended on a feeder and ignored her as she walked past. She walked through the back gate and disappeared. No matter. Approval to tap Kate’s phone had come through. He clicked the icon on his cell and hit record.

  Chapter Nine

  I headed straight for my Hummer, grabbed one of the rack phones out of the glove compartment. Evidently, Ben, my private investigator, had been right. In his opinion, if federal marshals were asking about family connections to a drug cartel, a tap on my phone was a given. Ben was ex-FBI and had an extra dose of suspicious, but since I had no idea what he would find while exploring Granddad’s past, I’d agreed to the precaution. Now with Parsi’s suspicions of Calvin and Erica the DEA superstar showing up, my twenty-minute side trip to Wal-Mart seemed a smart choice.

  I checked my personal cell for Ben’s number, keyed it into the new rack phone, and scanned the front yard. Too many cops milling around to have a private conversation. I headed for the back garden.

  I faked an interest in the neighbor’s birdfeeder, made sure no police were within hearing distance, and placed my call. Ben answered on the second ring. I gave him the Cliff Notes version of my morning and instructed him to put everything else on hold until he found Calvin. Two officers walked out of the house and through the back gate. I said a hasty goodbye, palm
ed my throwaway cell, and ran a hand over my racing heart.

  Buying and using an untraceable phone wasn’t the same as buying and using an untraceable gun. I had the right to privacy; I wasn’t doing anything illegal. So why was my heart racing as if I’d just run three miles on a treadmill? I skirted an outdoor bench and opened the kitchen’s back door.

  Erica leaned against the wall of ovens observing Parsi questioning Mom at the kitchen table.

  “You said the missing box held old letters, a few pieces of jewelry, and photographs,” he said. “Photographs of whom?”

  I’d wondered the same thing. I eased the door closed and stood by the sink.

  “Old photos of friends and family.” Mom looked tired. Her eyes were rimmed in red, and her mouth pinched into a grimace.

  “Can you be more specific?”

  Parsi’s commanding tone shot heat up my spine. This interview needed to come to an end. “Since my mother isn’t planning on filing a complaint, I think we’ll call it a day.”

  “I still have a few more questions.” The marshal’s voice clearly stated “Butt-out.”

  Cedar caught my eye, gave a quick shake of his head. I couldn’t imagine why Cedar thought Mom should be subjected to Parsi’s grilling. Something must’ve happened while I was in the garden.

  Parsi scanned his notes. “The ring and pendant, why were they kept separate from your other jewelry?”

  “I’ve always stored them in that box. The box was locked and stored in the bottom drawer of my locked desk.” Mom adopted her hoity voice. If the marshal took offense, he hid it well.

  “Can you describe the jewelry,” Nathan said. “Real stones or semi-precious?”

  “Blue diamonds.” Mom was matter-of-fact, but I must have made a sound because she drew a navel-deep breath and pressed her lips together.

  Until now, it’d been a mystery why Calvin would break in and take only a box. If the ring and pendant were blue diamonds—mystery solved.

  “How big were the stones?”

  Mom twisted her great-grandmother’s ruby ring around her finger. “The pendant was around four karats, I guess. The ring smaller.”