Deadly Payoff

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Deadly Payoff Page 5

by Valerie Hansen


  Everyone was peppering Delia with questions. She ignored the cacophony and briefly spoke to the two uniformed officers instead. They cuffed Erik Evans and strained to help him to his feet.

  “I need an ambulance,” the thug insisted, staggering.

  “Yeah, buddy. We know. That young woman caught you casing the place and your pride is bruised, right?” The officers both laughed and started to guide him toward the patrol car.

  Evans glared at Delia over his shoulder. “Lock me up and you’ll be sorry. You’ll never find out about the job,” he warned.

  Shivering, she felt Shaun’s arm around her shoulders. If he was wondering what her attacker had meant, he was giving no outward indication of it. In a way, she wished he would quiz her about the man because she really needed to get the truth off her chest and Shaun had always been an easy person to talk to.

  It would help to have another opinion, too. Perhaps Evans did have information she needed. Then again, maybe he’d been bluffing in the hope they’d drop the assault charges that were sure to result.

  Either way, Delia knew she was going to have to confess sooner or later. Her conscience demanded it.

  It was hours before the family calmed down enough to stop fussing over her. Delia had begged them to allow her to take a nap in the guest room on the second floor before discussing her reasons for being back in Maine and they had reluctantly agreed.

  Ronald and Juliet had gone off to work at Blanchard Fabrics, Miranda was in her room as usual, Winnie was outside tending to her rose garden and Peg was upstairs with Grandfather Howard. That left only Shaun, who was supposed to be working in the library, patching the damage that had resulted from the shooting the month before.

  Delia hoped he hadn’t left when he’d realized she was still in residence because she really needed somebody sensible to talk to.

  The moment she opened the door to the upstairs guest bedroom and started for the staircase she knew her unspoken prayers had been answered. She could hear the raspy sound of sanding from below.

  Barefoot but still wearing jeans and a pink T-shirt, Delia tiptoed down the stairs. She slowly approached the entrance to the library, then gave Shaun her brightest smile when he glanced up and saw her.

  “Hi,” she said.

  He’d taken one of the library doors off its hinges and placed it across a pair of sawhorses set atop a large tarp that protected the floor. He leaned over and continued to sand. “Hello.”

  “Did I thank you for saving my neck?”

  “Over and over,” Shaun said. He was still avoiding her gaze but she was relieved to hear a smile in his tone.

  She lounged against the doorjamb and crossed her arms. “So, where did you learn to fight like that?”

  “In the army.”

  “No kidding? When were you in the army?”

  “I enlisted after you went off to Hawaii.”

  “Ah.” So much for innocent small talk. She supposed she and Shaun would always have trouble getting beyond their past. “Were you in the service a long time?”

  “Long enough to pick up a few martial arts moves.”

  “Well, they sure came in handy this morning. Thanks.”

  Shaun chuckled cynically. “I believe you said that already.”

  “Yeah, I know. Words just seem inadequate for the situation. You saved my life, you know.”

  Shaun finally looked up from his work and smiled wryly. “I doubt that. The burglar was probably going to let you go any minute and run away to save himself from arrest. He’d already jammed the gate so it would stay open for his getaway. That’s how I got in so easily.”

  “I—um—I don’t think he was going to just let me go.” The interest in Shaun’s expression was enough to spur her to continue. “I didn’t know his name, but that wasn’t the first time I’d met Erik Evans.”

  Shaun put down the sandpaper, straightened and dusted off his hands. “Go on.”

  “Promise you won’t say anything to my family?”

  He nodded.

  “Okay. Remember when everybody thought I was on my way to the airport to fly home? Well, I wasn’t. I drove to upstate New York instead.”

  “That’s what you meant when you said you took a detour? Why?” Shaun was listening carefully, his frown deepening.

  “Well, because, there was this key in the stuff the coroner returned to us after the shooting and I thought somebody should check it out.”

  “One key?”

  Delia nodded. “Yes. Just one. I know what you’re thinking. I wondered myself why there wasn’t a whole ring of keys, like to a car or whatever. Nobody knows how the victim got onto the estate grounds. I figured, if it really was Genie, the key I had might open her apartment, so…”

  “You didn’t!”

  Delia took a step backward. “She was past caring. What harm could it do? I just wanted to find some clue to what had become of my mother and maybe get a sample of her sister’s DNA.”

  “Did you?”

  “No. I was so scared when that awful man showed up I completely forgot to take her hairbrush the way I’d planned.”

  “Speaking of Evans, what does he have to do with all this?”

  “I don’t know. That’s the problem. He burst in while I was exploring Aunt Genie’s place and demanded money. He said he’d done some kind of a job for her and she hadn’t paid him. I can’t see what that can have to do with my mother, though.”

  “Maybe nothing,” Shaun said thoughtfully. “But the guy did hint that he knew something important. If we don’t try to make him talk, we’ll never know.” He paused and drew his fingers over the point of his chin. “I think you should tell your family.”

  Delia paled. “Everything?”

  “Yes. Everything. I imagine your father’s lawyers can advise you how best to proceed. If Evans is as stupid as he looks, it shouldn’t be hard to get him to open up to the right people.” One eyebrow arched over his steel-blue eyes. “And I don’t mean you.”

  Icy wind blew onshore from the Atlantic with ferocity, making the deserted Stoneley cemetery seem even more forbidding. Moss-covered headstones stood in rows like silent sentinels guarding their owners.

  A solitary figure paused, shivering, at the foot of the Blanchard family plot and glared at the mound of recently turned earth that marked its newest grave.

  You’re in the ground and still giving me trouble. I should have known. Well, that can’t be helped. It’s not as if I deprived the world of a useful citizen. I don’t know what all the fuss is about. You deserved to die for what you did and you got exactly what was coming to you. They should give me a medal.

  Ah, well, my time will come soon enough. Then they’ll all see and they can thank me. The ones who are on our side, that is. And the rest of them? It’s not my fault if some of them are expendable. My darling will understand.

  FOUR

  Delia spent the remainder of the day dreading the angry confrontation she knew she’d face the minute she told her father the whole story. By the time Ronald came home from the office she’d gone over the details so often she just met him at the door and blurted them out.

  Instead of the fury she’d expected, he reacted with astonishment. His ashen color worried her enough for her to lay a comforting hand on his sleeve. “Father?”

  “I’m all right. Just surprised, that’s all.”

  He shook off her touch and immediately headed for his study with Delia at his heels. As they passed the library, Shaun was picking up his tools. He fell in step beside Delia without hesitation.

  “Did you tell him?” Shaun asked softly.

  She nodded.

  “What did he say?”

  “Nothing, yet. Hush.”

  Ronald circled his massive desk, flipped through a Rolodex and started to punch buttons on the phone.

  Delia and Shaun heard him speaking to someone who was obviously an attorney.

  “That’s right,” Ronald said. “Erik Evans. He was picked up at the estate this m
orning and taken to jail in Stoneley. Have the charges against him dropped. If there’s too much delay, bail him out. Immediately. I want a private meeting with him as soon as he’s free. Arrange it.”

  He listened for a moment, then added, “No. This can’t wait. I’ll make time in my schedule.”

  Delia was no student of body language but she did find it rather off-putting that her father had cupped his hand tightly around the mouthpiece of the receiver, as if what he was saying wasn’t being easily overheard by both her and Shaun.

  When he hung up the phone he faced her. “It’s taken care of. I’ll meet with Evans as soon as he’s released and find out what he knows. I can’t imagine that anything Genie may have done which involved him was pertinent to us but we’ll see.” His smile was tight and seemed forced. “Will that satisfy you?”

  What could Delia say under the circumstances? She nodded. “Yes. Thank you, Father.”

  Ronald looked to Shaun. “I suppose you’re done with your work and want to be paid.”

  “Not quite,” Shaun said. “The bullet splintered the wood when it exited and the repair was pretty extensive. It still needs at least one more coat of varnish. I should have the job done by tomorrow, though.”

  “Good. The sooner all reminders of that night are removed the better off we’ll all be.” He dismissed them with a wave of his hand. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a few more calls to make. In private.”

  Delia was embarrassed by the demeaning way her father had treated Shaun so she made a special effort to smooth things by walking out with him. “I’m sorry he was so abrupt,” she said. “When God was passing out finesse my father must have been out to lunch.”

  “Better you should say it than me,” Shaun replied with a half smile. “I never realized how hard it must have been growing up in a family with him as the patriarch.”

  “It had its moments,” Delia said quietly. “My sisters and I all stuck together, as you know. And Aunt Winnie was wonderful. I don’t know what we’d have done without her.”

  She smiled wistfully. “I remember lots of times when I wished Ian was my dad, instead. Your father is a sweet, sweet man.” It was the first time in Delia’s memory that she had voiced that sentiment and the stunned look on Shaun’s face made her instantly wish she hadn’t spoken so freely.

  He quickly masked his feelings and changed the subject. “So, what are your plans now? Will you be flying home soon?”

  “I suppose so. I have my own business to run and I need to get back to it. After Father speaks to Erik Evans and we find out what he wants to be paid for, I imagine that part of the mystery will be over.”

  “Probably,” Shaun said.

  “I wish I could stick around long enough to help try to track down my mother but I’m afraid that could take years.” Delia paused and sighed. “If we ever do find her.”

  “I’m glad you’re being sensible for a change. There’s no need to take any more chances. You’ve already gotten in way over your head.”

  His obvious concern was touching but his low opinion of her capabilities was a bit annoying. Instead of snapping at him, however, Delia chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You are,” she said, continuing to be amused. “You don’t have a clue about what I do for a living. You’re a typical haole.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A foreigner. A nonnative Hawaiian. I compete in world-class surfing contests every year. I ride my board through the Pipeline off Oahu’s North Shore and tackle thirty-foot waves for fun, not to mention all the times I’m paddling around in the ocean trying to teach novices how to do what I do without getting themselves hurt. If you think I take too many chances here in Maine, it’s a good thing you haven’t seen me surf!”

  As Shaun paused at the library and turned away to pick up his toolbox she heard him murmur, “When you’re right, you’re right.”

  Shaun had spent another restless night and he was not happy about it. His life had been relatively uncomplicated until he’d returned to Stoneley. Now, it was anything but.

  Worse, he couldn’t just hit the road and escape the way he used to. His dad needed him. And he owed his father plenty. It was Ian who had listened for hours as he had unburdened his soul after he’d left the army and returned to the States to regroup. And it was Ian who had never passed judgment when Shaun had begun to wander all over the country in search of who-knows-what.

  To Shaun’s chagrin, seeing Delia again hadn’t affected him the way he’d thought it would. He’d figured, now that he was older and seasoned by the curves life had thrown at him, he’d be immune to her charms. That was a laugh. If she’d stayed the immature, naive teen she’d been when they’d eloped, he could have dismissed her easily. The problem was, Delia had grown up, too. Boy, had she!

  Oh, she looked about the same, with those big brown eyes and that silky hair of hers, although she’d cut it way too short to suit him. It was her heart and soul that had truly changed. Where she’d once been flighty, she was now focused. Where she’d once been easily swayed, she was now determined and strong-willed. The girl he had loved had grown into a formidable woman. A woman he couldn’t help admiring immensely.

  Shaun sighed as he climbed the front steps of Blanchard manor, hopefully for the last time. He’d be finished with the repairs to the door today and could start avoiding the place like the plague.

  Although that conclusion should have pleased him, he felt a surprising sense of loss. What was wrong with him? He knew the answer instantly. Truth be told, he was going to miss seeing Delia, miss watching her quick mind work through the puzzles of her mother’s disappearance, miss just being near her.

  He knocked, waited a few seconds to no avail, then tried the door, found it unlocked and let himself in. The Blanchards were expecting him so it was unlikely anyone would mistake him for a prowler. Then again, he was there to finish repairing a bullet hole that had splintered their fancy woodwork. No telling what could happen in this house.

  His mind zeroed in on Delia once again. The sooner she left Stoneley and went back to Hawaii where she’d be safe, the better he’d feel about this whole situation. Like it or not, he desperately wanted to continue to protect her.

  Making his way quietly down the hall, Shaun went to work. One more fine sanding and a last, thin coat of varnish and the inlaid door would be good as new.

  He huffed derisively. He wished he could say the same for his psyche. His scars were a lot more than skin-deep.

  A man’s voice echoed down the hall from the study. Ronald Blanchard was either talking to himself or speaking on the telephone. Shaun didn’t want to listen to the other man’s conversation but he couldn’t help overhearing.

  “I need to talk to somebody, get this business off my chest, work some things out,” Ronald was saying. “No. Not on the phone. In person. When will you be available?”

  At first, Shaun assumed Delia’s father was referring to his upcoming meeting with his lawyers and Erik Evans. Then, Ronald said, “Fine. Your office at Unity, 10:00 a.m. today. I’ll be there.”

  Wind from a hummingbird’s wings could have blown Shaun over! It sounded as if the usually oh-so-perfect, overbearing Ronald Blanchard had just made a counseling appointment with Greg Brown, the pastor of Unity Christian Church! Miracles did still happen these days. Apparently, learning that he’d buried the wrong person and that his ex-wife was probably still alive had shaken old Ronald to the core. Well, good. If ever a man deserved to have a spasm of conscience, that one did. Too bad it had come too late to help him and Delia.

  Shaun gritted his teeth. There they were again. Thoughts of Delia. They refused to leave him alone no matter how hard he tried to banish them. He could still feel the touch of her hand when he’d held it in front of the police station; still sense the warmth of her embrace when he’d come to her rescue on the front lawn of the mansion and she’d stepped into his arms as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  “
I’ve probably been sniffing too many solvent fumes,” he mumbled to himself. “I mean, it’s not like we ever had a real chance together. We were too different.”

  He pretended not to notice when Ronald passed outside in the hallway and cast a condescending glance in his direction. The man’s pettiness was unbelievable. If he hadn’t been Delia’s father, Shaun would have considered the whole incident little more than an amusing footnote to a trying job. A job that, thankfully, was nearly over.

  Delia smelled the fresh varnish, assumed it meant that Shaun was in the house and came to investigate. Relieved to find she was right, she greeted him with a smile. “Morning.”

  “Good morning.” He didn’t look up. “Can’t stop now. One second and I’ll have this coat finished.”

  She lingered, thumbs hooked into the front pockets of her jeans. “Don’t let me disturb you.”

  “You’re not. I just need to keep the brushstrokes going with the grain so they don’t show when it’s dry.”

  Delia laughed lightly. “Good thing you’ve never seen me paint. I used a big, fuzzy roller to do the outside of my surf shop in a really bright blue. It looked great. But by the time I was done I had more paint on me and the ground than I did on the wall.”

  “No doubt.” Shaun straightened and carefully dipped the brush into a shallow container of mineral spirits to clean it. “You don’t seem to tackle anything halfway.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” She was delighted to see a grin spreading across his face and crinkling the corners of his eyes.

  “It was meant to be,” he said, methodically wiping the bristles on a clean rag. “So, are you all packed?”

  “I never unpacked from my last adventure,” Delia said. “As soon as Father has had his meeting with that awful thug that followed me from Aunt Genie’s, I’m history.” She eyed the den. “I thought I heard him down here.”

  “He was. He just left.”

  “Oh.” Delia couldn’t help feeling relieved. “Well, no problem. I’m sure he’ll tell me what he finds out.”

 

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