Island of Deceit

by Candice Poarch

  “I never said…”

  “Do you really think you had to?”

  Barbara remained silent.

  “When are you leaving?”

  “I don’t know. I’m going to put the salon on the market after the holidays.”

  “So you’ll be here at least another two, three months?”

  “Longer than that. The sale will take a few months. The economy isn’t exactly booming.”

  “Where are you going when the sale is finalized, back to New York?”

  Barbara glanced away. “I don’t know.”

  “Are you running from something?”

  “No.”

  Harper blew out a frustrated breath. “Why won’t you let me help you?” he entreated.

  Barbara looked away. “It’s not something you can help me with.”

  Frustrated, he approached her. “Is there another man?”

  Barbara chuckled. “No, and there hasn’t been one in a very long time.”

  “Do you have any feelings for me, Barbara?” When she remained silent, he said, “At least give me the truth about that, if nothing else.” Hands on hips, he leaned into her and Barbara felt as if she was a villain on the witness stand. “How do you feel about me?”

  A thousand denials flipped through her mind. But in the end, she could give him nothing but the truth. “I love you,” she whispered.

  He looked rattled, as if she’d knocked the wind from his sails. A play of emotions crossed his face—elation, uncertainty, and finally frustration. “Then I’ll settle for that—for now.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her tenderly before he led her back to bed. Their lovemaking was almost desperate. Tender, wild, thrilling, each giving all, wanting to experience everything there was for as long as what they had lasted.

  The Claxtons invited the Stones to another dinner with a couple from church. Afterward, Elliot and Minerva walked home.

  “She’s some cook,” Elliot said.

  “I’m some cook. I am so tired. It’s been a long night and with Lambert’s daughter underfoot, the days are excruciatingly long. I’m ready for bed.”

  “Yeah, you are,” Elliot agreed. He wanted to get along tonight. He had plans.

  “I thought we’d never get away from that place. It’s almost eleven. Naomi just had to tell us a million stories about her grandchildren and the woman who used to live here and about her family. You’d think they were royalty the way she talked,” Minerva said, and Elliot refused to comment on the jealousy in her voice.

  He tightened his arms around her. “You know this is part of our research.”

  “It must be nice to have a stable home. I know it’s paid for. Some people are so lucky. It was probably passed down from her ancestors. She probably never had to work hard a day in her life.”

  “She was a teacher, Minerva. Don’t you remember her saying so? She taught until she retired. Handling kids isn’t easy. You know that.”

  “But she’s got a nice little piece of money coming in. And that land was handed down to her. Her family probably sent her to college. She never had to scratch the way I did.”

  Elliot sighed. “Minerva, you’ve never had to scratch. You never even worked a paying job before.” Nothing he said was going to appease Minerva, so he just let her get it off her chest.

  When she finally wound down, Elliot nuzzled her neck and squeezed her tighter. “Andrew went to Norfolk. It’s been a while for us. I can take one of my lucky pills and we can…”

  “You can’t be acting like lovers out here. We’re supposed to be sister and brother, remember?”

  “I remember.” He put some space between them.

  “I just want sleep tonight,” Minerva muttered. “I’m just too tired for anything else.”

  “You’re always tired. It’s been a while.”

  Peeved, Minerva slid him a sideways glance. “Maybe if you had to work, you’d be tired, too. I don’t get to sit home and get a midday nap.”

  “That’s unfair, Minerva. I’ve done my share of work for this family and you know it.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

  In a fit of temper, Elliot unlocked the door and went in. He didn’t want to make love to her anymore, anyway. If she didn’t straighten up, he could go to Norfolk and find himself a willing woman. He had the hots for Barbara, anyway. He was too angry to hold the door for Minerva. If she wanted to be treated like a lady, then she had to be nice to him. He might be old, but he wasn’t dead yet.

  He flipped on the light. “What the hell?”

  “What is it?” Minerva asked, pushing him aside.

  “Somebody trashed the damn place.”

  Minerva glanced around in shock. “The money. Elliot, they stole the other half of the money! Check the hiding place.”

  She rushed to the bedroom with Elliot behind her. She opened the drawer with the false bottom.

  “It’s gone! My God. All of it’s gone.” Minerva staggered back.

  Elliot eased down on the damaged bed. His heart was betting so fast he clutched a hand to his chest. What if he hadn’t given that money to Barbara?

  “What are we going to do?” Minerva repeated. “It’s all gone.”

  “It’s not gone,” he finally said. They certainly would have found the place had the money been there.

  Minerva looked at him as if he was crazy. “What are you talking about? It’s not where you put it.”

  “I gave it to Barbara to invest.”

  Minerva swaggered as if he’d hit her. “Against my wishes?”

  “Sometimes you don’t make sense when you get scared. And if I hadn’t given it to her, we’d be flat broke.”

  Trent was tired of this place. He was going to have to handle things the same way he’d handled them in D.C. Some things were the same no matter where you were. If he had to spend Thanksgiving here, he damn sure wasn’t going to spend Christmas. He shuddered at the thought.

  He knew that Barbara and Harper spent most nights together, either at his place or hers. Kept him too busy to be checking up on him. He also knew the asshole Andrew spent a lot of time in Norfolk. Without transportation, he usually walked the mile and a half from the ferry to home. Trent found a little pathway nearby to park his vehicle—after Harper and Barbara were well into supper or whatever they were doing for the evening.

  Trent was a patient man. He was used to waiting for scum. He took a couple bottles of water and snack food, and he was good to go. He used his binoculars to spot the walkers.

  Trent had to get out of the car to piss twice. The asshole waited ’til ten-thirty to get off the ferry. But he was there. Trent got out of the truck and positioned himself at a secluded spot.

  When Andrew passed by, he grabbed him, clamping a hand over his mouth. Andrew’s mouth moved like a fish beneath Trent’s hand.

  “You holler, you die,” Trent whispered in his ear. “Nod if you understand.”

  Andrew’s head swung up and down.

  Trent tightened his arm around Andrew’s neck, restricting his breathing. “Your family stole something from me and I want it back.”

  Andrew tried to nod his head again, but he couldn’t move.

  “No need to talk. I’ll break your freaking arm again and worse if I don’t get my money.” He loosened his grip so Andrew could talk.

  “What money?”

  Trent popped Andrew upside the head and brought out his Glock.

  “Oww. Jesus. Please don’t kill me.” He tried to move away, but Trent held him in place.

  “Shut up.”

  “Ain’t got no money.”

  “Your father does. And I want it back. Every last freaking cent.”

  “You the one who shot me?” Andrew asked.

  “I wouldn’t’ve just shot you. I would’ve killed your sorry ass,” Trent told him and meant it. “Your daddy fucked with my mother, and I’m pissed as hell. You got one week. Or I’ll kill all of you. Mama, Daddy, and you. Understand?”

  Andrew was trembling in his
arms. “I…”

  “Yes or no.”

  “I…I…I understand.”

  “And you better not mention me to your mama or daddy or the police or anyone else. You just get my damn money.”

  “I…”

  Trent tightened his arm around Andrew’s neck. “You got that? Yes or no?” He loosened his grip enough for Andrew to speak.

  “But…”

  “I can kill you right now.” He took the safety off the Glock and pressed it against Andrew’s temple. “Or I can get you from ambush any second I want to.”

  Andrew fainted, leaving Trent stumbling with the full weight of his body.

  Trent shook his head. Sorry-ass SOB, he thought, leaning over and slapping the guy to see if he really was out. Andrew didn’t move. He was out stone-cold.

  Looking around him, Trent stuck the gun in his waistband and made his way back to his SUV.

  Sooner or later, Andrew would come to and find his way home.

  John Aldridge was working the night shift, making rounds, when he thought he saw somebody lying on the ground about a mile from the ferry. He called it in to the dispatcher and got out of his car to check it out.

  He beamed the light from his flashlight. A young man was lying on the ground. His britches were wet around the seat. John recognized Andrew Stone.

  John checked for a pulse. The man moved his head and groaned.

  “Had too much to drink?” John asked.

  Andrew groaned again, then winced against the light. “Please,” he mumbled weakly. “Don’t kill me.”

  “This is the police. Nobody’s going to kill you. Can you get up?”

  “Yes…yes, sir.”

  “Come on. I’ll take you home.” John put some plastic on his car seat, settled Andrew in the car, and drove him the short distance home, hoping he wouldn’t puke in the squad car.

  “It’s not good to get so drunk that you pass out,” John said. “It’s downright dangerous. You could have fallen in the road and gotten driven over.”

  “Yes, sir. It won’t happen again,” Andrew mumbled.

  The boy seemed extremely nervous. “You okay?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Andrew was older than John by at least five years. Why was he calling him “sir”? There was something pitiful about him that had John feeling sorry for him. Andrew seemed to be one of those weak souls who was easily managed by others.

  “Take care of yourself, buddy, okay?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  John parked in the yard and waited for Andrew to go inside before he drove away.

  All seemed quiet in the neighborhood.

  Harper was sleeping with Barbara wrapped securely in his arms when the phone rang.

  “There’s been another robbery at the Stones’. This time they trashed the place. Slashed mattresses. Pulled everything out the cupboards. It’s a mess, Harper,” John said.

  “I’ll be there.”

  “What’s wrong?” Barbara asked.

  “There was another break-in at the Stones’. You going to be okay here?” Harper asked.

  “Of course. Go on.”

  He kissed her quickly on the lips and rushed to dress.

  When he went into the Stones’ house twenty minutes later, Harper was shocked. There was rage behind this. Nobody destroyed a house like this without a terrible passion.

  The mattress was cut up as if someone were striking out at them.

  “Have either of you received any threats?” Harper asked.

  “None at all,” Elliot responded. “We live rather quietly here.”

  “Did you have enemies from your previous residence?”

  “No.”

  “Was anything stolen?”

  “We went through everything and nothing was taken. They just destroyed everything.”

  No other houses in town were broken into and yet this house was hit twice.

  “So the two of you were dining at Mrs. Claxton’s house. Where were you, Andrew?”

  “I went to Norfolk.”

  “I picked him up passed out on the road half a mile from here,” John said.

  “What happened?”

  “I…” He flashed a nervous look at his father. “I musta drunk too much.”

  Harper controlled his disgust.

  “Were you alone tonight?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You ever catch a ride back from the mainland?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “With whom?”

  “Some dude who lives on the island. I see him all the time and since he sees me walking, he just gives me a lift.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Gerald somebody. Never got his last name.”

  “Where does he live?”

  Andrew shrugged. “Don’t know. Never been to his house.”

  “Can you describe him?”

  “Tall dude, little shorter than me. ’Bout John’s size. Light complexion.” Andrew shrugged.

  That could describe a host of men. “How old?”

  “Older than me. Younger than you.”

  Between thirty-five and fifty. Great. Just great.

  “We can’t stay here tonight,” Minerva said.

  “John, call Gabrielle and see if she has a room at the B and B. In the meantime, we’ll process the scene.”

  Friday night Trent figured he needed to give Andrew another warning. He waited for him again as he got off the ferry, walking as if he’d had one too many.

  Trent intercepted him at the same place, only this time he didn’t touch him, just stood behind him. He didn’t have to. His voice alone was enough to stop Andrew in his tracks.

  “You working on getting my money, Andrew?” Trent asked, lacing his voice with menace.

  “B…Ba…Barbara’s got half of it, and there’s no way I can get it from her.”

  “Half?”

  “My daddy gave it to her to invest,” the nervous man said quickly.

  “What happened to the other half?”

  “Somebody stole it a couple weeks ago. We had a couple of break-ins.”

  “So Barbara’s working with you?”

  He shook his head. “We met her when we moved to the island. And when I was dating her she told my daddy how she invested her money and made a killing.”

  For the life of him, Trent couldn’t understand what a strong woman like Barbara saw in Andrew.

  “So tell me about this stock thing.”

  “She’s got a stockbroker friend in New York. There’s some stock that’s going to hit the ceiling in a few months. Barbara told Daddy she’d invest it for him.”

  “What kind of bullshit is this?”

  Andrew turned, looked Trent in the eye, and started trembling. “It’s the truth. Somebody broke in our house the night you attacked me. The only reason they didn’t get the money was because Barbara already had it. It should be invested by now. Ain’t nothing I can do ’til the deal’s done.”

  Trent scowled. “You had better not ever mention my name to your daddy or anybody else. Got that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Get on outta here.”

  Andrew stumbled forward, and Trent made his way back to the SUV. He wouldn’t accomplish a thing hurting Andrew. He’d need him if he couldn’t get that money from Barbara.

  So she wasn’t part of the group. But something was up with that woman and he couldn’t figure it out. She raked in money hand over fist at that salon. He knew those prices she charged, and although he never got near the till, he figured up in his head what she was making, and it wasn’t chicken feed. He knew for sure that sharp-looking salon she owned was paid for. She wasn’t renting. So what was her number? And how the hell was he going to get his money? He wasn’t up for stealing from somebody who didn’t steal from him. He just wanted his mama’s money back.

  But who the hell stole half the Stones’ stash? It must have been the woman skulking to the house the night he tore up the place. She must know them and know the amount
of money they had in their possession. Oh, hell. She had to be Andrew’s old girlfriend. His mother mentioned her. And she was stealing the whole stash for herself.

  No honor among thieves. Now he had to find that woman. He should’ve waited and followed her home that night, but after he’d destroyed the place, he wasn’t up for sticking around and getting caught.

  He’d bet she lived on the island. Or maybe it could be one of the locals. If only he’d gotten a look at her face, but he’d only seen this apparition dressed completely in black—just like him.

  Barbara had given her customers a month’s warning that the shop would be closed the week of Thanksgiving. Consequently, they were swamped that week, so much so that she and Trent hadn’t had the time even for a break.

  Barbara thanked the heavens that he’d come to work for her. She would never have been able to take care of so many customers on her own.

  Late that afternoon, Liane rented a car from the airport and drove directly to the salon. Barbara hadn’t eaten since breakfast and took a ten-minute break to eat and visit with her friend before Liane left for the B&B.

  She finally sent her last customer on her way, locked the shop’s door, and looked at Trent. They still had the shop to clean, but Trent was sitting. She couldn’t blame him. She was just as tired.

  “I never want to work another day like this,” Barbara said.

  “Me either, but I guess we better get started on the cleaning.”

  “Yes.”

  Trent had already cleaned the sink area, and now he started sweeping and scrubbing as Barbara cleaned around the hair station.

  “Word around town is you’re good with investing,” he said.

  “Are you interested in investing?”

  “I thought it was about time I started. I’ve got a little saved up.”

  Barbara glanced up. “Do you own your own home?”

  “No.”

  “Then that’s where you should start. You should take care of the basics first. The price of housing is down now and it’s a good time to purchase. And after that’s taken care of, you can invest a portion of your savings in the stock market because that’s down, too. But you have to be selective in choosing stocks. You want sound companies, those where the shares have been depressed because of the market, not the value of the stock, and one that will eventually increase when the economy picks up.”