Tidewater Inn
Page 18
She didn’t think she could hold out much longer. Her vision began to dim, then her head broke the surface. She filled her lungs with air and shook her head to clear it. Shore was more than a hundred and twenty yards away. She struck out for the safety of the sand, vaguely aware that Samson was snarling. A hand grazed her ankle and she kicked hard, then swam to the right and then back toward shore. The diver had the advantage of seeing her from below. It would be a miracle if she escaped him.
Help, Lord! Her muscles were beginning to tire from the exertion, but she kept up the pace. Her starved lungs wanted her to pause and gather in more oxygen, but there was no time. Not if she wanted to live. She dared a glance back and saw a head pop up. The sight galvanized her into swimming even more frantically. The dog growled to her right. He left her side, but she didn’t look back until the snarling reached a ferocious level. The dog had his teeth clamped on the man’s arm. The diver struck at Samson, but the dog held on.
This was her chance to escape. She swam for all she was worth. The shore grew closer and closer until her knees scraped bottom. She staggered to her feet and practically fell onto the beach. There was no time to recover though. She sprang back up and turned to stare out to sea. Where was the dog?
“Samson!” She screamed his name into the wind. The harsh caw of a seagull was the only answer. She half turned to run to the inn for help, then she saw his head break the waves. He was swimming for shore. There was no sign of her attacker.
She ran a few feet into the water to greet the dog as he struggled to shore. Sinking to her knees, she threw her arms around his neck. He licked her cheek weakly and she half guided, half carried him the rest of the way. They both collapsed onto the sand. Panting, Samson crawled onto her lap.
“Good dog,” she crooned. She’d wanted to see an angel, just as Aunt Pearl once had. Samson was that angel today.
The sun had colored the clouds with red and gold when Alec found Libby sitting on a piece of driftwood. Her face was turned toward the sunset. Her arm was around Bree’s dog. They’d been for a swim. He could see that her hair wasn’t quite dry and neither was the dog. Alec paused to shake sand from his sandals, and Tom nearly bowled him over in his haste to get to Libby.
“Ready?” Tom whispered.
“I guess we have to be. Libby,” Alec called. She turned her pensive face toward them. He knew when she saw Tom because her eyes widened and she inhaled. “Tom has some news,” he said.
Her lips tightened and she got up. “You’ve found her body?” The dog pressed against her leg as though he sensed she needed comfort.
Alec paused to reflect on her answer. He knew Tom would assume she’d asked because she knew for a fact that Nicole was dead. He didn’t believe that. “Not her body but some of her clothing. Bree and Samson found it.”
“Where? Why didn’t she come to tell me?” She’d thought Bree had acted a little strange. She’d been quiet before rushing the children in to get cleaned up, then off to dinner in town without Samson.
Tom grunted. “I ordered Bree to let us tell you.” He put his hands on his hips. “What we found were her sandals and cover-up, Miss Holladay. They match the description you gave us.”
“Oh no,” Libby whispered.
“You were quick to ask if we’d found her body. I suspect it’s because you dumped her body out there.”
She went white and her fingers stilled in the dog’s fur. “That’s a terrible accusation. You were both so somber that I assumed the worst.”
“Her shoes and cover-up indicate that she’s no longer alive,” Tom said, his voice harsh.
“I don’t believe it.” Libby’s lips trembled. Her gaze sought Alec’s.
Alec saw no guilt in her face. “Tom needs you to identify the belongings he found.”
“Pink flip-flops and cover-up?” she asked.
He nodded. “Shoe size matches.”
“Where did Bree and Samson find them?”
Tom shot a fierce glance at Alec that warned him to be quiet. “They found one shoe in some rocks and the other twisted with seaweed a few feet away. The cover-up was fifty yards down the beach.”
“Maybe the things aren’t Nicole’s.” Libby’s voice rose. “Pink is a common color for beach items.”
“I want you to take a look,” Tom said, gesturing back at his truck in the driveway.
Libby nodded and they trekked back to Tom’s SUV. He stuck his head through the open window and withdrew a plastic evidence bag. Without speaking, he handed it to Libby.
The bag crackled when her fingers tightened around it. She loosened the top and pulled out the clothing and flip-flops. “They look like hers. I bought her the cover-up for Easter.” Her voice quavered. She turned the shoes over. “See this nick out of the bottom? Her mom’s dog chewed them the weekend she got them.”
Alec nodded. “Looks like teeth marks.”
She closed the top and handed it back. “I think I can say without any doubt that these belong to Nicole.”
Tom tossed the bag into the SUV. “I think we have to assume we’re investigating a murder, Miss Holladay.”
She visibly wilted. “I don’t want to believe she’s dead.” She turned a beseeching glance toward Alec.
He didn’t want to give her false hope. “You have to face facts, Libby,” he said, gentling his voice.
“If she’s dead, where is her body?” she asked. “Wouldn’t her body have washed ashore too?”
Tom shrugged. “I know it’s hard to hear, but it’s rare to find a body. Fish take care of the remains.”
Her eyes filled and she backed away. Alec glanced at his cousin and saw Tom narrow his eyes. Did he think her distress was put on?
“I’d like to ask you some questions, Miss Holladay,” Tom said. “What happened to your mother?”
She reeled as though she’d been slapped. “What do you mean?”
“How did she die?”
Libby wetted her lips. “She fell down the basement steps.”
“Isn’t it true that the police suspected you pushed her?”
“I didn’t!” Libby blinked rapidly. “She was drunk.”
“You were held for questioning,” Tom said.
“They let me go.” Her eyes pleaded for them to believe her. “I had nothing to do with it.”
“But you were home?”
She sighed and leaned against the SUV. “I was home,” she agreed heavily. “But I was upstairs working on some paperwork.”
“You lived at home?”
“Someone had to take care of her. If I wasn’t there, she wouldn’t have bothered with food.” She tipped her chin up. “I took care of her. I cared for her for years.”
Tom took a step closer to her. “What happened?”
“I heard a clatter. I jumped up and ran downstairs calling for her. When I found the basement door open in the kitchen, I rushed down the steps and found her lying at the bottom of the stairs. Sh-She was lying there with her eyes open. I tried to help her up, but I knew as soon as I touched her that she was gone.”
“The policeman I spoke with seemed to think your story was fishy,” Tom said. “Why was that?”
Alec could tell Tom already knew the answer but wanted to see if she would tell him the truth. He prayed for Libby to be honest and put to rest any doubts his cousin might have.
She looked at her hands. “We’d had an argument in town earlier that someone overheard.”
“And you threatened to kill her.”
“It wasn’t like that!” She lifted her head and stared at Tom. “I said, ‘I could just kill you when you act like that.’ That wasn’t a threat. It was just a figure of speech. A really awful figure of speech.”
“What had she done?” Alec asked gently.
“She insulted the grocery store owner, then threw tomatoes at him. It was an ugly scene. I tried to stop her, but she was like that when she’d been drinking. There was nothing anyone could do. She was the sweetest person when she was sober.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
Libby felt like she’d been tossed around by a tidal wave. Could the sheriff actually suspect that she’d killed her own mother—and that she’d disposed of Nicole? Couldn’t he see her heart? She’d started to tell Tom that someone had just tried to drown her, but then she saw the suspicion in the sheriff’s eyes. He would think she was making it up to divert suspicion. What a mess.
It was none too soon for her when Sheriff Bourne’s vehicle left the driveway and headed back to town. Alec stood at the bottom of the porch steps with his hands in the pockets of his khaki shorts. She’d been hoping to tell him about what she’d discovered from Pearl, but now she didn’t have it in her.
Her eyes burned, and she rushed up the steps before she could disgrace herself by showing how much the sheriff’s accusations had hurt her. Samson whined and trotted after her.
“Libby, wait! Tom is just doing his job.”
“His job is to find out who took my friend, not to railroad an innocent person!”
He mounted the steps to the porch and stopped in front of her. “Look at it from his point of view. Can’t you see why he would have some suspicions?”
She was in no mood for his placating tone. “While he wastes his time investigating me, the real criminals are walking free. Don’t you worry that the men might take another girl? Someone you know and love?”
That stopped him. She could see him processing her question.
“You’re saying you don’t think it was personal? That Nicole just might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time?” he asked.
“I don’t know what to think. You hear of human trafficking though. Who knows but that’s what these men intended? How did they know she would be there at that time? Maybe they just came ashore and saw a lone girl and decided to grab her.”
He stared at her. “You didn’t try to rent a boat until nine.”
“What?” She didn’t understand the sudden change of subject.
“The night Nicole disappeared. That means you didn’t leave Virginia Beach until a good two hours after you called 9-1-1. Why?”
“No. I threw some clothes in a suitcase and left right away. Then I got stuck in a traffic jam from a jack-knifed truck.” Her ire rose. “Do you want to check with the state patrol? I came as quickly as I could.”
There would be no end to the suspicion and accusation. She was going to have to do this on her own. The realization made her pulse jump. But it wouldn’t be impossible. She had years of experience uncovering the history of houses, interviewing previous owners, delving into the secrets of dusty pages. While this would be a different investigation, she had determination and love on her side.
“I can see I’m on my own now.” She turned to leave.
“You’re thinking about doing this yourself? You’ll just make Tom and the state detectives mad,” Alec said.
“What other choice do I have? The story Earl wrote is going to hit the papers soon, and we both know it’s going to be slanted toward my guilt. The state isn’t going to look any harder than the sheriff is. If I want to stay out of jail, I’m going to have to do this myself and find those men. And quickly. Before everyone in town is convinced I’m some kind of killer.”
“Let’s start with a sketch of what you remember.”
“Are you going to help me or accuse me, Alec? I’m having trouble keeping it straight.” If he doubted her, she didn’t think she could stand it. His opinion mattered way too much.
“I told you I’d help. We’ve already started. I haven’t changed my mind.”
She searched his face. “For my father’s sake?”
He nodded. “And for the sake of truth. Truth matters.”
She relented. Should she tell him about today’s attack? “It doesn’t seem to matter to anyone but us,” she said.
“What do you mean by that? Has something happened today?”
He had an uncanny perception. Where did it come from? She pointed to the rockers on the porch. “Let’s sit down. This is going to take a few minutes.” What would he think when she told him what their parents had done to her and Vanessa? Would he still idolize her father? And would he believe a diver had really tried to drown her?
A breeze lifted the strands of Libby’s light-brown hair, and the porch light glimmered on her tresses. A few bugs buzzed the lamp. Alec stretched out his legs in the rocker and petted Samson, who rested his head on Alec’s knee. The dog huffed with pleasure. If only people were so easily pleased. Libby had her legs tucked under her on the swing. He waited for her to explain what was going through that beautiful head of hers.
He noticed red marks on her ankle. “What happened there?” he asked, pointing.
Her gaze searched his face. She rubbed her ankle. “A diver tried to drown me a little while ago.” She studied the marks. “I didn’t realize he’d left marks.”
He sat forward. “What? Someone tried to kill you?”
She nodded. “Samson and I went for a swim. A diver in a black wetsuit dragged me to the bottom and tried to hold me there. I managed to get away, and Samson helped until I got to shore.”
He clenched his fists. “Why didn’t you say anything to Tom?”
She shrugged. “He has his mind made up.”
He pointed to her ankle. “You have proof.”
“I didn’t realize he’d left marks. And the sheriff would say I scraped it on something anyway.”
Alec leaned forward and studied the marks on her skin. “Looks like fingers. We need to show Tom.”
She rubbed her ankle, then shook her head. “He’d say I did it myself.”
“No, he won’t.” He grabbed the portable phone on the swing and called his cousin. When he explained what happened, Tom told him to take pictures and bring her into the office tomorrow.
She was watching him talk with shadowed eyes. “What did he say?”
“He believed me. He wants pictures tomorrow and said to take some tonight too. He wants to get to the bottom of this, Libby.”
She bit her lip and her head went down. Alec pulled out his phone and snapped several shots of her injury.
The screen banged open and Vanessa stomped out onto the porch. Her hands were curled into fists and her mouth was pinched.
She glared at Libby through narrowed eyes. “Don’t think this changes anything! You’ll never be part of this family.”
“This isn’t my fault, Vanessa. Mom and Dad did this, not me.”
“Don’t call him that! He was Daddy, always.”
Alec found their conversation impossible to decipher. “What’s going on?”
Libby sighed and leaned back. “It appears Vanessa and I are full sisters.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” He eyed them both. There was a definite resemblance. They’d look alike whenever Vanessa lost the petulant expression she usually wore.
Libby tucked her hair behind her ears. “When our parents divorced, they each took a child. Our mother wanted nothing to do with our father and insisted this was the way it had to be.”
“That’s nuts,” Alec said. This situation gave credence to her story of an atypical mother. “And neither of you knew?”
She shook her head, then glanced up at Vanessa. “Sit down, Vanessa. Standing over me like that isn’t going to solve anything.”
“Neither will talking.” But Vanessa took a hesitant step forward.
Alec left the chair and moved to sit beside Libby on the swing. Vanessa shot him a grateful look. He liked being this close to Libby. The vanilla fragrance on her skin was enticing. “Did you remember another sister at all? Weren’t you three when your parents split?”
Vanessa knotted her hands together. “I remember an imaginary friend. Her name was Bee.”
“Bee. Lib-BEE,” Alec said. “Maybe that was your nickname for her.”
Vanessa
frowned and shook her head. “I’m sure she was imaginary. She had a monkey named Fred.”
“I had a monkey named Fred,” Libby said in a low voice. “I still have him. He was a sock monkey.”
Vanessa straightened. “He had an eye missing.”
Libby nodded. “And his ear had been chewed by the cat.”
“I remember that,” Vanessa said in a stunned voice. “Do you remember me at all?”
Libby frowned. “I don’t have very many memories from childhood. Things were so rocky and constantly in flux. I have only snippets of things, and most of them aren’t pleasant.”
Vanessa’s face clouded and she looked down at her hands. “You’d think you would remember a sister!”
Alec could feel Libby tense beside him. “Stress can damage memories, Vanessa,” he said. “Doesn’t mean she didn’t love you.”
“I don’t care if she did or didn’t,” Vanessa snapped.
The screen door opened again and Pearl came out. Her feet were bare under her housedress. “I thought I heard voices out here.” She chewed on her lip as she glanced at Vanessa. “Everyone doing okay?”
“Don’t tiptoe around it, Aunt Pearl,” Vanessa snapped. “How could you keep this from me?”
“If you would have opened your door, I would have talked to you about it.”
Alec got up to offer his seat to Pearl, but she waved him off so he sat back down. She leaned her bulk against the porch post. “I’m not staying. This is something the girls have to work out on their own.” Her gaze stayed on Vanessa. “I just wanted to assure Vanessa that this is true. I was there. I tried to talk them out of it, but your mother was adamant.”
“My mother,” Vanessa said, her voice stunned. “I just realized. Tina wasn’t my mother!” Her voice broke, and her eyes filled with horror.
“She loved you as much as she loved Brent,” Pearl said. “You know she did.”