He smiled, surprised that Lily was not a neat freak. Since the sweat outfit was gray, he selected a pair of gray socks and a pair of white in case she needed extra.
When he placed his hand on the knob of the top drawer, he muttered, “Here goes,” but hesitated. To a cop or private investigator, the contents of that drawer would give insight about a person’s personality. As did the nightstand, bathroom medicine cabinet.
But he was no longer looking at her as a suspect. He was going to view the contents differently. Now Lily was becoming someone he cared about. Maybe too much. He hoped when this case ended, he could stick around and they could develop their relationship, but Jake blocked himself from further exploring that possible outcome.
When she learned the truth about him, the case, and the tackle shop, the future was clear. She was going to be upset. Would she understand his reasons, or walk out on him, like Sophia had?
Chapter 20
Jake hesitated no more and yanked open the drawer. Her undergarment drawer overflowed, stuffed to the brim with underwear and bras. Again, no organized arrangement. A little chaotic. He chuckled out loud. Good. He’d had enough of that rigid world with his ex.
Trying not to disturb her things too much, he picked through the assortment of pretty, see-through, tiny garments, and under the circumstances, went for comfort, finding briefs. He stuffed a couple into the bag, threw in two bras, and hoped he selected the appropriate garments.
He was about to close the drawer when something silver glinted. He dug through the underwear. A silver-plated picture frame stared back at him. He fished out a picture of Lily with Sam. Unlike the newspaper picture, this one was in color.
Sam’s light-brown hair, sun-streaked with blond highlights had gray roots. Most guys wouldn’t notice the silver sprinkles, but he was trained to be observant. Plus, he was sensitive to a person’s hair color since his first job was sweeping hair of every shade off the floor of his sister’s salon. Sam’s over-processed hair could have resulted from being dyed frequently.
Jake examined the picture Claire had given him. Sam had dark-brown, almost-black hair with a dark-brown mustache. He slipped the folded picture back into his wallet and tucked the frame into the garbage bag.
Sam was a master of disguise. The dye jobs looked amateurish as if Sam did his own work. Which could only mean, he didn’t want to risk going to a hairstylist and have a witness to his changing styles.
Jake ran down the stairs to the office. He scanned the photo and emailed the picture to himself. A couple of contacts he had might be able to get more information about Sam/Simon.
On the way back down the hallway, the floor creaked underfoot. Jake stopped short and pressed his foot on that spot of the carpet again. Creak. A weak area in the floor. Jake inspected the carpet, which ran the length of the hall, but wasn’t wall to wall. Instead, the rug covered a hardwood floor exposed about an inch on either side. Jake walked the length of the runner, hopping over the bump protruding near the end where the rug went askew.
The crooked carpet bothered him. The corner end would ravel up and become a hazard. He bent down and straightened the rug so Lily wouldn’t trip.
“What’s taking you, boy?”
Jake’s chest squeezed tight and his heart slammed against his rib cage. He reached for his gun. He looked up at the chief. “Geez, Chief. Warn a guy next time before sneaking up.” He eased his fingers away before he’d have to explain why he was carrying.
The chief glared at him. “You got something to tell me?”
Jake straightened and pointed to the floor, hoping the chief wasn’t asking about his concealed weapon. He tried the bait and switch routine and prayed he wasn’t going to have to reveal his true identity. “The floor seems weak in this spot.” Jake stomped his foot to demonstrate the location.
The chief clenched his jaw and his hand flew to his gun. “Step aside. That’s the entrance to the crawl space. Lily’s family closed it years ago and kept the rug over to conceal the hole. The outside entrance is used instead.”
He motioned for Jake to back far away. The chief barked orders into his walkie. “Olsen. Edwards. Come in here.”
Two officers appeared. “Olsen. Cover the back by the crawl space entrance. Edwards. Roll the carpet up.”
Jake didn’t have to ask the chief what was happening. He knew what he was thinking. Someone might be hiding down there. The chief waved him back, and Jake got out of the way.
Edwards moved the carpet. The crawl space entrance was no longer boarded up. The slide lock was broken. The chief got on the walkie again. “Edwards. Stand guard. I’m going to go in the other way with Olsen. Better access. More visibility.” He shot Jake a glance.
“I won’t do anything stupid. I promise.”
The chief nodded and left. Five minutes later, the chief bellowed, “Jake, come out here.”
Jake left the bags he had filled off to the side and followed orders. The chief, covered in muck, shone a flashlight into the crawl space. “Someone’s been down here recently. We can tell because the ground’s not frozen yet and the mud’s been disturbed. I’m going to treat this place as a crime scene. Fingerprints, hair, DNA, maybe we can find something.”
He motioned for Jake to come closer. The dank, musty smell struck him. “Someone broke in this way and entered the house through the closed hatch in the hallway. That lock was broken from inside, and whoever did this had access. Maybe more than one person is involved. One could have moved the carpet and broken the lock, allowing the other to crawl under the house and enter. Or someone working alone who has access, could have broken the lock and planned to return another time. Lily was not being paranoid. Someone has been watching and following her.”
Jake gritted his teeth at the confirmation. A person’s house was supposed to be their sanctuary. Some creep broke that cardinal rule. Lily was vulnerable alone in this house. “I’m going to head over to the hospital now.” He chatted with the chief about Lily’s protection and got directions to the hospital.
“Don’t leave her side, boy.”
Thirty minutes later, Jake discovered from the front desk at the hospital that both Lily and Mrs. Bailey were on the ICU floor. Lily’s condition was raised to stable, but she remained on that floor because of limited beds. That worked out well for all, since he could keep an eye on both of them a lot easier and visiting hours in the ICU were practically 24/7. No explanations necessary for visiting Lily in the middle of the night.
He approached the nurses’ station and one of the nurses gave him their room numbers. He intended to go to Lily’s room first but passed Mrs. Bailey’s room on the way. A plain-clothes officer stood guard by her door. Jake approached him and identified himself.
“The chief said to expect you,” the officer said. He told Jake that Mrs. Bailey’s doctor was confident she would make a full recovery, but he was concerned that she was still groggy and ordered more tests. He updated Jake on Lily’s condition too, stating she was fine and would be released in the morning. Jake thanked the officer and left, carting one of the two garbage bags he had taken from her house.
Lily was asleep. Her long blond hair cascaded down the front of her pillow like a fairytale princess. Except an IV tube attached to her arm and oxygen tubes adhered inside her nose were never part of the stories his sister practiced reading to him as children.
An upholstered chair, comfortable enough to sleep in, monopolized the window space. He treaded over and stored the bag on the deep window ledge. If he dragged the chair toward the bed, he’d risk waking Lily and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He stood over her bed and watched her sleep. His Sleeping Beauty needed her rest. What he wanted to discuss with her could wait.
Someone wanted her hurt. Why? Or they wanted something she had and didn’t care whom they wounded or killed in the process. But what?
Like the chief, he believed tonight’s fire was no accident, which meant someone wanted to kill Mrs. Bailey. For what purpose? Was Mrs. Bailey a target because she was close to Lily and her family? Or was someone concerned that the old lady was too observant for her own good? Did these attacks involve Claire’s priceless painting? Whatever the reason, Jake vowed he wasn’t going to let up until he had answers.
Lily stirred and her eyes fluttered open. “Jake,” she whispered.
He reached for her hand. “I’m here. Doctors say you’re going to be fine. They want to keep you overnight to make sure.”
“Aunt Bee?” Lily’s voice croaked.
Jake poured water in a pink plastic cup and held the straw as he helped her take a sip. “She’s going to be fine too. And don’t worry about Leo. I took him to my apartment.” He filled her in on what he had put in a bag for Leo. “I brought you some clothes too.”
Lily tried to sit up, and after Jake figured out the mechanics of the hospital bed, he adjusted the bed, plumped the pillow, and Lily smiled a thank you. Her appreciation meant a lot to him. She cherished life’s simple pleasures. A tiny dog, beach glass, chocolate pastries, a fluffed pillow. One more reason he couldn’t possibly let her go when this case was finished. One more reason he was falling in love with her.
He dragged the chair and garbage bag over. Once settled into the vinyl cushion, he slipped the picture frame from the bag. “I found this in your drawer.” When her eyes widened, he said, “I wasn’t prying.”
“Okay.” She turned a shade of pink.
The awkward stillness caused a rush of heat to his ears. Glad his longer hair buried the tips of his lobes, he clasped the frame and explained. “It was either me or one of the officers at the scene snooping through your stuff. I could have asked one of your staff, but the chief would have made them wait until the scene was cleared. I didn’t think you’d want to wait that long. What if they released you before that?” He started to ramble as he tried to make them both feel less self-conscious.
“It’s okay, Jake. Really.” She licked her lips and then reached for the cup of water. She took a long drink. “So why did you bring the picture of Sam and me?”
He whipped out the other picture he had of Sam and held them up together. He pointed to Sam’s hair, comparing the two photos. “Notice the change of color. If I showed these to my sister, I’m sure she would agree that these dye jobs came out of a supermarket box. In this picture, the color is too dark with his skin tone to be natural. And it looks flat. I’d bet he also dyed the mustache to match.”
She studied him, as if stunned by his hair-coloring knowledge. “My sister owns a salon, remember? I lived my high school summers there earning tips.”
“Who’s the woman in the picture?”
Jake worked his jaw. He should have known she’d ask about Claire. Of course she would. Her dead ex-fiancé was cozying up with another woman in the picture. Any normal woman would feel jealous. Even a bit. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he couldn’t tell her the truth. Not yet.
“No one important.”
Lily took the picture. “She looks familiar.”
Jake hoped she wouldn’t recognize Claire from their brief encounter in the restaurant. In the picture, Claire wore a wig with long red curls, a big floppy hat, and huge sunglasses. The shot was taken on one of the islands she frequently visited with her boy toys and always disguised her appearance. She couldn’t risk anyone recognizing her and reporting back to her husband.
“Lily, I’m going on a hunch here. I think Sam made a habit of changing his appearance each time he was with someone. Look at your picture. He altered his appearance to fit the lifeguard role. When he was found dead, you probably didn’t notice, but his hair was medium brown, no sun-streaked highlights. Maybe the past year he was with another woman, leading a new life.”
Lily glanced away. He could see this new revelation pained her. Was she still in love with Sam? Not that there was a chance for reconciliation. But a man couldn’t compete with a dead guy. He had to know.
Jake placed his hands on the soft skin of her arm, hoping her love for Sam had died way before his actual death. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to hurt you with my theories.”
She blinked a couple of times and pressed her lips together before placing her hand on top of his. “It’s not your fault. The day Sam left me at the altar, he crushed my heart. How a person could do that to someone, I’ll never understand. I mean, we loved each other. Or at least I did. After the shock wore off, I had to accept ours was a completely one-sided relationship.”
She handed him back the picture. “I don’t understand why he did that to me. He got cold feet, everyone told me. But now your theory scares me. Why would he change his appearance? Only a person hiding something does that. What was he hiding, Jake?”
“I don’t know for sure. The chief tells me his fingerprints are clean. That means he’s never been arrested, and he’s never held a job that required employees to get fingerprinted. To add to my other theory . . . I think he targets women he can get something from.”
“But what? What did he want from me?”
“Do you have money? Investments? Jewels?”
Lily gave out a harsh laugh. “If I did, then you wouldn’t have been able to lease the bait and tackle shop. My sisters and I would have snapped it up and been on our way to expand the business.”
Discouraged, Jake tried another angle. “You have a lot of pictures in your house. But this is the only one of Sam. Did you burn the rest? Not that I’d blame you.”
She played with her hair, twisting a lock around her finger. “He didn’t like taking pictures. I had to beg him to take that engagement picture. And this one was a candid shot one of my sisters took. He told me he didn’t like the way he looked and asked me to destroy it. We compromised. I kept the photo on my dresser. Not too many people would see the frame there, and he seemed okay with that. Thinking back, he obviously didn’t want to be recognized. But by whom? And why?”
Jake knew from his dealings with Claire that the guy took money from her. “There must be something of value he wanted.”
She shook her head. “I can’t imagine what. My sisters and I share ownership of my parents’ house. The other real estate we own is the shop.”
“Wait a minute. You mean the bridal business.”
“We own that too. But no, I mean we own the building itself. The section where our shop is located. Robert Reilly owns the bait and tackle shop portion and the rest of the strip mall is owned by Aunt Bee. She rents the two other places to a swimsuit boutique and a florist.”
Flabbergasted, Jake sat back in the chair. “Mrs. Bailey, a landlord?”
“My sisters and I want to take over the whole building. The florist shop would stay the same, but we’d concentrate on wedding flowers, and the boutique would cater to honeymoon attire.”
She smacked her hand against her forehead, pulling the IV line with it. “That must be it.”
“What?”
“My sisters and I stand to inherit Aunt Bee’s estate. And not just the strip mall building. She owns two oceanfront properties.”
Jake lifted his eyebrows. “Oceanfront?”
“They’re capes, but they were lifted on pilings years ago and are full oceanfront. They’re at the end of my block.” When his mouth dropped, she continued. “She and her husband bought the properties years ago when they were cheap, and they rented them out. She still rents them out for the summer.”
“Added up, we’re talking a few million dollars. Who would have guessed the old lady was worth a fortune?”
“No one. That’s the point. Only her close friends know. She’s housebound most of the time, preferring to stay with all her things. And few people know that my sisters and I are beneficiaries. We also hold power of at
torney, but Sam couldn’t have known that before he met me.”
Jake ran his thumb over the stubble on his chin that grew overnight. Sam targeted Lily. Somehow Sam knew Lily would be a wealthy young woman when Mrs. Bailey left the earth.
The fire. Did someone set her kitchen ablaze to help speed up her departure? If so, the suspect couldn’t have been Sam. He must have had an associate. He ran the idea past Lily. “Sam has a partner, and that’s who’s been following you.”
He didn’t want to tell her, but she had to know about someone hiding in her crawl space. He told her what he and the chief discovered. Her eyes grew wide and what little color she had back in her skin, drained.
“I’m not leaving you for a minute, Lily. You’re safe now. The partner must be the killer.”
“I don’t understand. Aunt Bee lives simply. She doesn’t flash her money. Unless . . . you know when her husband died, the papers did an article on him recognizing his donations to beach conservation. The article mentioned his real estate holdings. But that was a few years ago.”
A nurse came in. “How are you feeling, Lily?” She glanced at the machines next to the bed. “You need your rest.” She shot Jake a disapproving look.
When she left, Jake grasped her hand again. “Close your eyes and sleep. We can talk more later. I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Chapter 21
When Lily stirred awake hours later, the sun shone through the hospital window mini blinds. She locked eyes with Jake. He hadn’t left her side all night. Guilt strangled her like the hospital bed sheets. She looked at the big clock on the wall. Nine o’clock. “You don’t have to babysit me. There must be a ton of stuff you have to do at your shop.”
He glanced down and wrinkle his forehead. “Nothing that’s more important than keeping you safe.”
Forever Hold Your Piece (The Becker Sisters Bridal Series Book 1) Page 17