Trust No One

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Trust No One Page 13

by Velvet Vaughn


  "How about everyone."

  "Yeah, I don't get good vibes from anyone here," she agreed. "What's your opinion of Byron Wilks, the campaign manager?"

  "I haven't had a chance to speak with him."

  "He's a major sleezeball. He asked me out."

  Dorian's brows lifted. "Fast worker. What did you tell him?"

  She shrugged a shoulder. "I accepted. I figure I can flirt a little, pry for information."

  "He'll never know what hit him," Dorian mused. And wouldn't Alex be happy. Although they'd just met, his buddy definitely had it bad for the blond beauty. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her last night.

  As Kendall rolled through the set-up, explaining the disappearance of the senator’s wife and child as he was making a run for Washington, Olivia nudged him with her elbow. "She's a natural."

  "Yeah." Dorian was mesmerized. He felt Olivia watching him, sizing him up. He tried not to squirm.

  Kendall's first few questions were light, prompting the senator to open up. Then she started with the hard hitting ones, inducing the senator to the brink of tears more than once. She was just about to wrap the interview up when she hit him with, "Did you have anything to do with your wife's disappearance, Senator?"

  Having approved the questions, the senator expected it. He staunchly and loudly denied knowing anything about the disappearance of his precious Pamela.

  A racket outside the closed office door had everyone turning, including the senator, who paused in mid-sentence, and Vince, who swung a camera to film the interruption.

  "I don't care, I have to see my son this instant." The door blasted open to reveal a regal woman with sleek silver hair cut fashionably short, wearing a very expensive suit and pearls. She spared one look at the rolling cameras before rushing to the senator. "Aaron, darling, this just arrived."

  "Mother, I'm in the middle of an interview."

  "It's about Pamela and the baby."

  #

  Everyone gasped as Hofstra fumbled open the note. Vince maneuvered over his shoulder to capture the message.

  "Oh God, it's a ransom note," he said, dropping it to the desk before burying his face in his hands. "That means she's still alive." He looked up at the camera with a watery smile. "If they are asking for a ransom, my wife and baby are still alive. Right?" He sought anyone in the room willing to agree with him. "Right?"

  "Call the police," someone ordered.

  The senator's head snapped around, his eyes wide, frantic. "No! No police. The note says if I notify the authorities, they'll kill her."

  "That's enough, interview over," Wilks ordered, plastering his hand in front of Vince's camera lens. Everyone was quickly ushered out the door except for the senator, his mother and Wilks. Gray Posten didn't look happy to be included with the group forced outside, but he offered a smile. "I'm sorry to have to rush you out."

  "I was just about finished anyway," Kendall told him.

  "I have your word that you'll not mention the ransom note?"

  It would be such a huge news story, but she would not be responsible for anything harming the senator's wife and unborn child. "I'll honor the Senator's wishes," she promised. "I wouldn't want to be responsible for anything happening to Mrs. Hofstra and the baby. I do need to get some promo footage, however."

  "How about over by the senator's photograph?"

  She shot a few more segments, including teasers that would begin to air immediately. They left the building and after a quick stop for a sandwich, followed Vince to the local affiliate station to run through the footage and add voice-overs. Kendall called her producer to inform him that the interview had been conducted and the film was on the way. It was just after five p.m. when they walked out of the studio, the feature set to run in less than three hours.

  "The piece is excellent, Kendall," Olivia praised.

  She smiled. "Thanks. It is pretty good, isn't it?"

  "You were amazing," Dorian added.

  "Too bad you couldn't use the footage about the ransom note. That would've been a huge ratings boost," Olivia said as her phone rang. "Great, I'm looking forward to it." She made a face and Kendall chuckled. "I'll meet you there." Olivia punched the off button and tossed the phone in her purse. "Yuck."

  "Are you sure you want to go to dinner with him? You don't have to, Liv."

  "I don't want to, no, but if I can find out any information, like who Stefani knew, then it'll be worth it."

  Kendall gave her a quick hug. "Thank you. I appreciate it so much."

  They escorted her to the restaurant Wilks chose, which was only a block from the senator's campaign offices. Olivia promised to call when dinner was over so they could pick her up and drive back to the cabin. They didn't want Wilks to know where she was staying.

  Once she was inside, Dorian asked Kendall, "Do you want to head to Ferrington Marina, see what we can find out? We'll be back before your interview airs."

  "Absolutely."

  Chapter Twelve

  Kendall watched the scenery as Dorian drove to the marina. Just when she thought she'd put the murders out of her mind for a moment, a flash of some building or place they'd visited sparked a memory and the pain flooded back. Their names had been released to the public, so she'd called the families to offer condolences. She was able to reach Bridget's mom and Kiki's dad, but she still couldn't get in touch with Stefani's only close relative, her sister Cassie. A lieutenant in the Army, she was out of the country on assignment, unable to be reached. Kendall wondered if she even knew about Stef. She left another urgent message on her voice mail, hoping to speak to her soon. She'd offer to help Cassie with funeral arrangements. She prayed she would be able to attend with the killers safely behind bars.

  "What do you know about Pine Lake?"

  Blinking to clear the threatening tears, she turned to Dorian. "Nothing. I’ve never been there."

  "It’s secluded, pretty good size, no houses. There's a marina and not much else. A lot of fishing, some recreational boating."

  "Do you think the man in the picture worked there?"

  Dorian nodded slowly. "Or maybe lived there. I did some research and there are docked houseboats that people live on year-around."

  "What’s our angle going to be?" she asked, glad to have something to occupy her thoughts. "We can’t exactly flash the picture around."

  "Yeah, I thought about that," Dorian said. "Let’s play it by ear. Maybe ask if anyone has gone missing."

  He pulled into the lot next to a beat-up, rusted out red Chevy parked next to the building. A few other vehicles with boat trailers were scattered around. A man with his back to them took a drag on a cigarette and tossed it to the ground as he blew the smoke through his nose. With the toe of his boot, he crushed it out and then headed for his truck.

  A sign on the door indicated the store would close in twenty minutes. Through the glass window, they could see a young man behind the register banging air drums, his head bopping in tune to music. "Let me go in first," she said. "I’ll flirt a little, see what I can get from him." Opening the door, she added, "Wait a few minutes before you come in."

  Kendall jumped when a mounted bass belted out a song as she pushed through the door. She tried hard not to roll her eyes at both the kitschy toy and her reaction. The boy had moved behind the counter to sit, his bottom lip bulging obscenely from a wad of tobacco. His eyes were glued to the glossy pages of a girly magazine as he turned it sideways and unfolded the pages. He didn’t even notice her approach.

  Clearing her throat, she pretended to examine one of the displays. His eyes widened when he finally noticed her and he hastily thrust the magazine behind the counter. Standing, he lifted a can and spit into it. Her lip curled in disgust. After a quick swipe of his palms on his jeans he wiped a hank of dark brown hair off his forehead.

  "Kin I help you find something, ma’am?"

  "Quaint little shop you have here." Kendall made a show of checking out the shelves. Picking up a plastic container, she lifted the li
d curiously and almost gagged at the mound of worms squirming inside. She fumbled the lid back on and quickly shoved it back on the shelf with both hands.

  "It’s my dad’s," he informed her.

  "So one day all this will be yours?"

  He shrugged a bony shoulder and tossed more hair out of his eyes. "Guess so. Did you wanna buy some red crawlers?"

  The big mouth bass launched into ‘Don’t Worry, Be Happy’, announcing Dorian’s entrance.

  "Red crawlers?" she repeated.

  "Them worms over there." He pointed to the display beside her. "The ones you were just admiring."

  Oh those red crawlers. "No, thank you."

  Moving away from the disgusting creatures, she approached the counter and batted her lashes. "What’s your name?" she asked in her best imitation of Olivia's soft southern drawl.

  "Billy Ray," he said, "You know, like the singer."

  "Well, you are just cute enough to achy-breaky my heart," she purred.

  A burst of laughter erupted, quickly covered by a cough. She glared at Dorian over her shoulder. Billy Ray’s face turned a frightening shade of red. "Billy Ray, perhaps you want to help that gentleman over there locate some cough drops." She pointed at Dorian. "He seems to need them."

  Billy Ray started to step around the counter. Dorian threw up a hand to stop him and cleared his throat. He was desperately fighting a grin. "No, thanks, I’m just browsing. Please, don’t let me interrupt your…conversation."

  Kendall’s lips thinned to match her narrowed eyes. Spinning away from him, she plastered on her charming smile again. "I stopped in here once before and spoke to the nicest gentleman…I can’t remember his name." When he didn’t speak, she prodded, "Maybe if you told me who else worked here, I’d remember."

  Billy Ray tossed hair out of his eyes again and Kendall considered grabbing a pair of scissors and cutting the raggedy mop. "I rotate with my two sisters. Could've been my dad, I guess."

  "Maybe it was," she lied. "I was thinking of buying a house boat, maybe docking it here. He said he’d check around and see if anyone had one for sale."

  "That probably was my dad."

  "Is he around?"

  Billy Ray shook his head. "He and my mom are at a boat show in Detroit."

  "Well darn the luck," she cooed, flinching when Dorian moved beside her.

  "Do you know of anyone here that would be selling?"

  Billy Ray scratched his head and picked up his canister to spit. "Charming," she muttered. Dorian had another coughing fit.

  "We post a list of items for sale on that wall over there." He indicated a paper and business card-covered bulletin board. "I don’t really know of any at the moment but there might be one on the market soon."

  "Oh really?" She leaned forward to show her interest.

  "Uh-huh. One of the residents, Mr. Colbert died a couple of days ago."

  Kendall felt Dorian tense beside her. "Why I do declare," she said, her hand fluttering to her heart. "Killed?" she breathed.

  Billy Ray nodded.

  "People getting whacked…doesn’t sound like the kind of place a nice Southern woman like yourself would want to move, if you’ll pardon my eavesdropping," Dorian drawled. She didn’t miss how he mocked the word Southern. Kendall stepped on his foot and ground her heel in his toes.

  "Sonofa-"

  "I’m just the sorriest," she cooed. "Can you ever forgive my clumsiness?" Like it really hurt him. Her foot however was throbbing. He must be wearing steel-toe boots.

  "This Mr. Colbert," Dorian said between clenched teeth, forcing his narrowed gaze from her to address Billy Ray. "Was he murdered here?"

  "Oh no," Billy Ray rushed to reassure them. "We ain’t never had no one killed here, ‘cept the time Froggy McDougal got so drunk, he thought the lake was his waterbed." Billy Ray shook his head sadly.

  "I know a Colbert," Kendall interrupted, shoving an arm in front of Dorian to take over the investigation again. "What was his first name?"

  "Hank."

  "I don’t know a Hank so I guess I should be relieved but I just feel so sorry for Hank’s family. Does he have a family?" she pried.

  "I dunno. He lived by himself."

  "What’s going to happen to the boat?"

  Billy ray shrugged. "Dunno."

  "I don’t want to sound morbid, but can you tell me which one is his so I can walk by, see if I’d be interested, you know, if it does go on the market?"

  "Sure." He pulled out a roster and checked the list. "It’s the ‘Lucky Lady’. Parked on dock four, slip ten."

  "Thanks, Billy Ray, you’ve been ever so helpful." She flashed him a broad smile and Billy Ray’s face flushed. She slipped on her glasses and exited the store.

  #

  "I’ll take these," Dorian said, plopping a container on the counter hard enough to snap the check-out boy’s gaze from Kendall’s gently swaying backside. As Billy Ray rang up the purchase, Dorian asked, "So if the murder didn’t take place here, where and when did it happen?"

  "It was in the city. Happened Friday afternoon. Actually, it’s kinda weird…Hank hardly ever leaves the marina."

  "Any idea what he was doing there?"

  "Nope."

  "Do they know who killed him?"

  Billy Ray shook his head, his long hair falling back into his eyes as he handed Dorian his change. "Police said it was a random mugging. His wallet was missing, but he had his dog tags on…wore them all the time. That’s how the police identified him so fast."

  "Thanks, kid," Dorian said, lifting the container off the counter.

  Kendall was waiting for him outside. "What do you make of it?"

  "I’d say Hank saw something he shouldn’t have, and flaunted the proof."

  "And was killed for it," she added.

  "You don't poke a stick into a snake hole without expecting retaliation. Here, these are for you." He extended the white plastic carton. "I saw you admiring them."

  Kendall looked horrified, making no move to accept the gift. "Why would I want a tub of disgusting worms?"

  "These aren’t just any worms, sweetheart, they are top of the line crawlers." He wiggled the package.

  She pursed her lips in disgust and turned away. "Get those slimy creatures out of my face."

  Dorian chuckled and lowered his hand. "How about we take a look at that boat?"

  The setting sun painted the sky a vibrant shade of orange and red and purple as they navigated the wooded planks. The area was silent but for the cry of seagulls, the soft lap of water against the hulls of docked boats and the clicking of locusts in nearby trees. A warm breeze carried the scent of fish and lake water and someone grilling burgers. An older man sat fishing off the side of the pier, his jeans rolled to expose milky-white calves dangling over the side. A bloodhound rested protectively next to him. The dog lifted his head and sniffed as they neared, his droopy jowls hanging loose. Deciding they represented no threat, he settled back down with a doggy sigh.

  They followed the maze of boardwalks, finally spotting the signs to dock four and then on to slip ten. Dorian nodded to the man fishing from a boat across from the Lucky Lady. The man gave them a curt greeting, raked them with a suspicious glance and then returned his attention to his pole. They made a show of checking out the exterior of the boat. Dorian pointed out the length.

  "Do we go inside?" Kendall asked under her breath.

  "Not in daylight." Dorian searched the area, his eyes roaming over everything, stopping on the nearby fisherman. The man watched them warily.

  "I hear this boat may be for sale." Dorian raised his voice and indicated the Lucky Lady.

  The old man shrugged.

  "Did you know the owner of the boat well?"

  He adjusted his pole. "I mind my own business, he minded his," he said gruffly.

  "He’s not going to help us," Kendall said, turning away.

  "You a jarhead?" Dorian asked.

  "You a frogman?"

  Dorian laughed. "What gave me a
way?"

  "Your eyes," the man replied.

  "Chief Petty Officer Dorian Demarchis, U.S. Navy SEALs."

  "Master Sargent Chet Biggins," the man responded as he adjusted his cap and shifted the pole in his hand.

  Dorian tugged the carton out of his pocket and stepped closer to the boat. "Don’t suppose you could use these?"

  The man eyed the package suspiciously. "Them’s the good ones."

  "I didn’t bring my gear…I’d hate for them to go to waste."

  The man settled his pole on the ground and pushed to his feet. He ambled over to the railing and accepted the package with a muttered thanks. "It’s more than those other people brought me."

  Dorian tensed. "What other people?"

  "The ones asking questions just like you, questions about Hank."

  "What did you tell them?"

  "Same thing I told you. I don’t know nothing." The man eyed Kendall distastefully.

  "Darlin’, why don’t you have a seat on that bench right over there and wait for me?" He indicated a wooden platform halfway down the dock. "I’ll be there in a second." He eyed her with purpose.

  Clearly upset at being left out of the discussion, she gave a curt nod. "Sure thing, darlin’," she stressed. With a frown, she spun around and stomped to the bench. Dorian watched appreciatively as her hips swayed with her angry march. When she plopped down on the bench, arms crossed mutinously he fought a smile and turned back to the crusty old sailor.

  "Women ain’t good for nothing but one thing," Biggins grumbled.

  Dorian made a sound he hoped the man took for an agreement. "Mr. Biggins, tell me more about the men who were asking questions."

  "First there were cops here right after Hank’s murder. They went over everything, questioned all of us." He patted his pockets. "Got their card somewhere." Unable to locate it, he shrugged. "Then these other men showed up."

  "Who were they?"

  Biggins lifted his hat off his snow white hair, strands sticking up in every direction, and scratched his scalp. Resettling the cap on his head he said, "There were two of them but they both wore dark glasses, hats. One said he was a cop but never showed me a badge."

 

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