Island of Deceit

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Island of Deceit Page 23

by Candice Poarch


  “I’ve got it under control, Harper. Trent was on the ferry when the shooting occurred. Did you call Liane?”

  Harper pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not yet. I don’t have a number. Didn’t think to check Barbara’s cell phone.”

  “I have her purse. I’ll call. Just take care of Barbara. I’ve got things covered here.”

  “The couple at the artist colony. Pick them up and interrogate them, too. Find out where they were at the time of the shooting.”

  “I will.”

  Harper flipped the phone closed. Take care of Barbara. He hadn’t done such a good job of that so far.

  He barely noticed others sitting in the room waiting for loved ones or waiting to get service themselves.

  Trent dumped his duffle on the bed. He’d wait until tomorrow to call Barbara. Maybe tonight would be a good time. A helicopter was taking off just as he arrived, and Harper was probably busy. She’d have time to talk. He wondered about all the activity at the dock, but he didn’t stick around to ask questions.

  Hearing a knock at the door, Trent wondered who it could be. He didn’t get visits—except for the sheriff. His heart leaped. He just got back on the island, for chrissakes. He debated pretending he was away, but his car was parked in the yard. He had no option but to answer. He peeped through the curtains. It wasn’t Alyssa or the sheriff, but the woman he met at the bar a few times. She was dressed in all black, just as she’d been that night he’d torn up the Stones’ house.

  He jerked the door open. “What are you doing here?”

  “Can’t get off the damn island. What happened? They’re checking everybody who gets on the ferry.”

  “I just got here. How the hell would I know?”

  Without waiting for an invite, Sonya passed by him to slump on the couch. “This place is always in an uproar.”

  “I don’t have time for company,” Trent said, scrubbing his hands across his whiskers. He needed a shave.

  “Can I crash here for a couple days?”

  “Hell no. I don’t know you that well. If they’re questioning everyone on this island, I don’t want to get mixed up with it.”

  “And I just don’t want to get mixed up in some mess that’s none of my business.”

  “Look, I don’t need any trouble.”

  Sonya crossed her legs. She patted the couch. “I’m no trouble. I’ll sleep right here.”

  Trent was momentarily distracted by Sonya’s delectable body. She had the potential to be a good distraction, but he shook his head. Never mix sex with business, and he had business to take care of, the business of talking to Barbara, and he certainly wasn’t going to leave this woman in his house. He didn’t know a thing about her. You didn’t get to know a person by sharing a few drinks.

  “Sorry. You’ve got to go.”

  She looked startled. “You’re kidding, right? I could have popped your behind when I caught you spying on the Stones.”

  “You could have done a lot of things.” Trent backed to the door and opened it.

  “I can’t fucking believe this. There’s no place to go on this stupid place. I don’t know why we came here in the first place.”

  “Not my problem.” Who was this we she was alluding to? Trent wondered but wouldn’t ask. He knew there was more to her than met the eye. Didn’t trust her from the beginning. He nodded toward the door.

  In a temper, she hopped off the sofa and stomped out.

  Trent shut the door after her, then tried to reach Barbara. But she didn’t answer and he didn’t leave a message.

  It was nine-thirty that night when the surgeon met with Harper and Naomi, Naomi being the next of kin.

  “The bullet was lodged close to her heart. The next few hours will be critical,” he said, then answered questions Harper peppered at him.

  Harper retrieved the bullet as evidence before he went to recovery to see Barbara. Seeing her all doped up, with tubes and machines attached, broke his heart and made him mad as hell.

  He took a deep breath. At least she was alive. That was something to be grateful for. Harper stayed most of the night and he didn’t leave until she had regained consciousness.

  Naomi had left for a while to stay with one of her sons who lived in Portsmouth, but she returned early that morning.

  “I’ll stay with her,” she said. “You go take care of what you need to. She won’t be alone. I’ll call you with her progress.”

  Barbara was still in ICU when he left in the wee hours of the morning.

  The last ferry had already run and he got a taxi to the medical examiner’s office to drop off the bullet for them to produce an analysis for him, then got a water taxi to ferry him back to the island.

  The night deputy picked him up and dropped him off at the office where he got his car. Harper looked at himself in the rearview mirror. He looked bad enough to scare himself. He scrubbed a hand across his chin and headed to Trent’s place. He needed a shave badly. It’s a wonder Barbara recognized him.

  He pounded on the door. When Trent answered it, he could smell sausage cooking.

  Harper moved inside. “Why are you here?”

  Trent stepped back. “What’s going on?”

  “Don’t bullshit me. Why are you here? Barbara was shot late yesterday afternoon.”

  “Barbara? The helicopter was lifting Barbara to the hospital?”

  The guy seemed genuinely shocked, but he could be a good actor, too.

  “I’m not going to repeat myself.”

  Trent sighed. “I came here to get my money from the Stones,” he said. “They stole most of my mother’s retirement.”

  “And Barbara?”

  “I thought she was working with them at first because I knew Andrew had a girlfriend. But I found out it wasn’t her.”

  “Did you shoot Andrew?”

  “No, but there’s a woman who’s been watching their house.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I’ve been watching it, too. We ran into each other one night. Yesterday after I returned from D.C., she came by here telling me she couldn’t get off the island and asked if I’d put her up.”

  “Why would she come to you?”

  “I’ve had drinks with her a couple of times at the bar, but that’s all.”

  “And you don’t think she lives here.”

  “No.”

  “Do you know where she lives?”

  Trent shook his head.

  “What’s her name?”

  “I only know her first name and that’s Sonya. At least that’s what she told me.”

  The elusive Sonja again. “Did she have a weapon on her?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You tried to reach Barbara several times last night. Why?” Alyssa had toggled through the numbers on Barbara’s phone.

  “I was going to ask her if she knew a way for me to get my mother’s money back. At the first break-in, some of the Stones’ money was stolen.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Andrew told me.”

  Harper was skeptical. “He just told you?”

  “I gave him some inducement.”

  Harper didn’t even want to think about what the inducement might be.

  “You mind if I visit Barbara in the hospital?” Trent asked.

  Harper shook his head. “You might want to wait a day or so. She’s still in ICU and pretty much out of it right now.”

  From there Harper headed to the office.

  “Jesus, Harper. Some men don’t do well without a shave,” Alyssa said. “You’re one of them. I’ve got a razor in my desk.”

  Harper ignored her. “What do you have on the Stones?”

  “Minerva was at Hughes’s place. Grandma saw Andrew at the house just before the shooting. And Elliot was with Barbara. Witnesses were pretty confused about where the bullet came from, but a couple people thought they heard the shot coming from the woods.”

  “Find anything there?”

  “Footp
rints. We made casts.”

  “The Stones are a family of con artists—actually, confidence people. They may have killed Sarah so that Minerva could get her job with Hughes.”

  “I found an abandoned boat tied up not far from where the body was found. It was reported stolen a month ago in Norfolk.”

  “Where is it now?”

  “Impounded.”

  “Let’s see if we can lift some prints,” he said. “I talked to Trent. He said a woman approached him seeking shelter last night soon after the shooting. He’d caught her casing the Stones’ residence.”

  “Did he get a name?”

  “Sonya. She might be the woman from the artist colony.”

  “I found some footprints in the area where the shooter was standing. Size eleven foot,” Alyssa said. “I think it was a man’s. Somebody in that area saw a boat taking off shortly afterward.”

  “Let’s get some fingerprints. See if we come up with anything. Where are the Stones?”

  “In a holding cell.”

  “Did you pick up the couple from the artist colony?”

  Alyssa shook her head. “They’ve disappeared. We’ve searched the island for them.”

  “Get Andrew to the interview room.”

  “You’re not starting with Elliot? He runs the show.”

  “Andrew. He’s the weakest link.” Harper could get info he could use against the others.

  “Okay…”

  Harper made a few calls, including to the hospital to find out Barbara’s progress, before he went down the hall to the interview room.

  Andrew was standing by the interview table.

  Alyssa glanced at him. “Harp, I’m thinking I should do this interview. I don’t think you can be objective.”

  “You can come in if you like. But I’m leading this interview,” he said with finality and shoved the door open. Harper rounded the table and stood with his hands on his hips looking as mean as he felt. Alyssa leaned on the door, blocking the exit.

  Andrew shot a look at Alyssa, then at Harper.

  “Have a seat, Andrew,” Alyssa offered.

  The younger man glanced at Harper and eased into the chair in slow motion.

  Harper hit the desk with his fist.

  Andrew fainted.

  Alyssa rushed over to Andrew and shook him. “Jesus Christ, Harper. What’re you trying to do? Give him a heart attack before you get your answers? Honestly. You’re going to get nowhere this way.” She opened the door and called out.

  “Somebody get some smelling salts, will you?”

  “Smelling salts? I don’t think we have any,” the secretary called.

  “Cleaning ammonia. Anything that’ll wake him.”

  Alyssa glared at Harper. “Have you looked at yourself lately? You look like the leader of some biker group. You need a shave. You look like hell. No sense in me bringing him to if you’re going to tower over him. He’ll faint again.”

  Harper rounded the desk again and took a look at Andrew. “He seems to be coming around. I’ll send John in to help you.” He left the interview room and had John bring Minerva to the conference room before he joined Alyssa.

  “Sheriff, I’m really upset that I’ve been kept overnight like I’m some criminal,” Minerva began. “I was with Lambert when the shooting took place, nowhere near Barbara. She’s a nice young lady and I hope she pulls through just fine.”

  “May I get you a cup of coffee?” Harper asked.

  She looked surprised. “A cup of tea would be nice. And a muffin to go with it.”

  Harper barely contained his incredulity. Where did she think she was? “Ellen, could you please bring Mrs. Stone a cup of tea and the muffin out of my office, please?”

  “Okay, Harp,” she said.

  Satisfied, Minerva leaned back in her chair. “You need to get a nap. It won’t do Barbara a bit of good if you wear yourself out.”

  “Have you been read your Miranda rights?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Am I under arrest?”

  “Not at this time, but I want to make sure your rights had been read and that you know you have the right to an attorney.”

  He made small talk with her until Ellen rushed in with tea in a white Styrofoam cup and the muffin still in the wrapper. She handed them both to Minerva with a stirrer and a couple of packets of sweetener, then hurried out.

  Minerva added both packets to her tea before she sipped it, then sighed. “This is the first decent thing I’ve had since I got here.”

  “I’m glad you’re pleased. Tell me about the money that was stolen from your house during the robbery.”

  The cup slipped, sloshing tea on Minerva’s dress.

  “Careful,” Harper warned. “The money?”

  “No…nothing was stolen. They just trashed the house.”

  “I’m talking about the first break-in. That’s when the money was stolen.”

  “How did…” She pressed her mouth together. “You’re mistaken. How did you come up with that conclusion? We don’t have money. If we did, I wouldn’t be working at Lambert’s as his companion.”

  “Oh, but your goal is to become much more than a companion, isn’t it? Lambert Hughes is a wealthy man by most standards.”

  “No more than we will be.”

  Harper arched his eyebrows. “Elaborate.”

  “Andrew will come into money in a few years, so you see, we don’t need to steal from anyone.”

  “How may years?”

  “In five, when he’s forty.”

  Now Harper understood why they kept Andrew around and why he never had to work. They’d browbeat the poor guy so much that he couldn’t make one decent decision on his own. So when the money came to him, they’d take over without him questioning them. What a sorry bunch. For the first time, he began to feel sorry for Andrew. With parents like those, no wonder he regularly drank himself under the table, and they probably encouraged it.

  “So you can just let us go, Sheriff. All of us. My…”

  “Husband?”

  “Brother,” she snapped.

  Harper shifted the papers in front of him. “Elliot’s your husband. One Minerva Smith married Elliot Stone thirty-five years and four months ago in Detroit,” he read and glanced up, staring directly into Minerva’s eyes. “Just in time for your dear son to be born with his father’s name,” he said. “Now, do you want to revise your statement?”

  “I’ve never stolen money from anyone. That’s all I’m saying,” she said, tea and muffin forgotten. “I was with Lambert when the shooting occurred. If you don’t believe me, ask him or his daughter.”

  They already had.

  “Harper?” John poked her head in the door. “Can you come here a minute? There’s an emergency.”

  Harper followed him into the hallway and shut the door behind him. “What is it?”

  “Somebody broke into Barbara’s house. Lisa went to get some clothes and things for her. Looks like somebody’s been living there.”

  “How’s Andrew?”

  “He came around. Alyssa gave him something to eat and drink. He’s okay for now. But he’s still waiting in the interrogation room.”

  “Take Minerva back to a cell. But don’t let her see Andrew.”

  In five minutes, he was at Barbara’s place.

  Alyssa had left a minute before them and was canvassing the area on foot. Lisa was sitting in her car.

  Harper checked his watch. The next ferry was due in fifteen minutes. He called the night deputy and told him to get up and go to the ferry to check the cars leaving, especially those he couldn’t identify. “And in particular a brown Ford Taurus.”

  “Secure the place with cones,” he told John. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Alyssa was on foot. Whoever was there had made a mad dash out the back door when Lisa came in the front. They could have had a car parked someplace nearby. Harper looked around at the thick woodlands on the other side of the road; then he got into his car and drove down the path.


  Just an old barn remained where a family house used to be. That property belonged to Barbara, too. He drove down the severely potholed path. It opened onto an inner island road. A car had recently driven through there. Harper drove alongside of the tire tracks, hoping to find a place to get a cast to determine who drove through. He spent an hour cruising the island searching for the culprit and ended up at the ferry.

  “No strangers came through here,” the night duty deputy told him.

  The entire sheriff’s staff was exhausted. He called a couple of retired deputies and had them help with the ferry search. “As soon as they arrive, let them know what we’re looking for and you get some sleep,” Harper told the deputy and called Nancy at the artist colony.

  “Has that couple returned yet?”

  “No, but I know they will in a couple days. They always do. They’ve left all their things here.”

  “They could be dangerous. If they show up, give my office a call,” he said, and headed back to Barbara’s house.

  He put on crime scene bootees and plastic gloves before he went in.

  The scent of bacon hit him as soon as he entered. It pissed him off that someone had invaded her space while she was fighting for her life in the hospital.

  Someone had cooked breakfast and hadn’t bothered or had time to wash the dishes afterward. He bagged a glass and fork for DNA analysis.

  Quickly, he walked through the house, room by room. He couldn’t tell if anything was taken. At least they hadn’t trashed the place, but they could have stolen things.

  In the den, the drawers were opened, all of them. He knew that Barbara usually kept them locked. He’s seen her use the key to retrieve something. He rifled through the drawers, but he couldn’t tell if anything was missing.

  A picture of an older woman looked at him from the desk. He did not see that when he was here before. It must be her grandmother’s photo.

  “I want prints lifted,” he said, “especially in here, in the kitchen, and the bedroom where this scum slept.”

  “We’re already on it,” Alyssa said.

  Andrew had said the stranger usually gave him rides from the ferry or from bars in Norfolk. Everybody wanted something from Andrew. His parents wanted his money. He thought of Trent. He was around the ladies. Minerva went to the shop. Did he fit into this mess? Harper worked until dusk.

 

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