“I can’t help you. I don’t know anything.” White rubbed his hands together over and over.
“Let me be the judge of that.”
“I was hired to pick up a guy. That was all. I knew nothing about a burglary. How can that help you?”
“Hired to pick up someone? How? Who hired you?”
“I’m part of PAC.”
“A personal automobile chauffeur in the D.C. area?”
White nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell me this the other day?”
“Mr. Johnston told me not to say a word or else. He would take care of everything. But since I’ve been sitting in jail, I’ve kinda figured he has no intention of taking care of me. I know nothing except what I’ve told you.”
“How many times have you picked up someone here?”
“He’s been my only one.”
“Where were you taking him?”
White shrugged. “D.C. That’s all I know. He was gonna tell me more when we were closer.”
The burglary ring was based in D.C.? The homes they had hit belonged to wealthy people who lived outside the capital. Maybe the dead guy they’d found in the woods had nothing to do with the burglaries.
Ryan wrote out a series of dates when the burglaries took place. “Put down where and who you were with at those times. Is there a person who can give you an alibi?”
White pointed to two dates on the paper. “Yes, that day and that one, too.”
“Good. When you’re through, knock on the door and give the sheet to the officer. He’ll take you back to your cell.”
Ryan left and gave the guard instructions. Then he needed to leave the station. Take a break. See Lacey. Especially after the night he’d spent at the dumpsite.
* * *
Lacey talked with the painter about the change to the color scheme in the Greene Suite. Then she made her way to the office to finally have a word with Mrs. Bell. She had an idea that might make the situation a little better. The atmosphere in the kitchen as Shaun hurried to get breakfast and make the school bus had been tension filled to the point her son didn’t say a word until she walked with him to the front porch.
She paused at the entrance into the office and dragged air into her lungs. The bed and breakfast had been an answer to her prayers. She’d thought her worries were over with her unexpected inheritance from Mr. Hopewell. She’d been wrong. New concerns replaced the old.
Lacey entered the room.
Mrs. Bell lifted her head briefly then returned her attention to the paper in front of her. “Did you need something?”
Lord, give me the right words to say.
Lacey walked to the chair in front of the desk and sat. Yes, your undivided attention. Although those words were on the tip of her tongue, she took several deeper breaths then said, “Now that Shaun and I have been here a few days, and I’ve become familiar with the bed and breakfast, I believe you were right about us staying in the carriage house. But with some changes. I talked with Tom Avant this morning, and he told me what I want can be done after he finishes the main house.”
Mrs. Bell straightened, her back so stiff it appeared she had a broom handle instead of a spine. “What changes?”
“To transform the carriage house into one unit with a kitchen, living room and two bedrooms. It would be our home. I still want to be heavily involved in the bed and breakfast. I thought we could talk about what my part will be here. You and Richard are important to the Calvert Cove B and B. I have a lot to learn from you. Tell me what your favorite parts of your job are?”
Surprise flickered into the woman’s eyes, and she sank back against her chair. “Doing the books, ordering, tasks behind the scene.”
“Ah, great. I would love dealing with the staff and the guests. I was a receptionist in my previous job and enjoyed interacting with others. We could each do what we like the best.” Lacey still had more to talk to Mrs. Bell about, but she didn’t want to overload the woman. She rose.
“When are you and your son moving out to the carriage house?”
Lacey knew Mrs. Bell wanted her to move today, but since there were no guests at the bed and breakfast for several weeks, she had decided to wait until her renovations to the carriage house were complete. “As soon as our place is ready for us.” At the entrance into the office, she glanced over her shoulder. “I’ve made a few changes to the colors scheme in a couple of the suites. The painter and contractor already know what I want.”
She quickly left before Mrs. Bell said anything to spoil what Lacey felt had been a successful meeting.
Richard wrote something on a pad then looked up at her. “Anything special you want in the way of food? Does Shaun have favorite snacks?”
“Apples and bananas. I never could keep enough for him.”
He scribbled on the paper. “How about you?”
She grinned. “Anything you make is a treat for me. I’d love to cook like you.” In her small apartment with two hot plates and one toaster, her meals could be limited.
“Then you can assist me at dinner if you want. Nothing I like better than sharing my love of cooking with another.”
“You’ve got yourself an assistant then.” Lacey crossed to the back door.
Richard joined her. “I usually purchase groceries twice a week. Tuesday is one of the days. Friday, the other one.”
“That’s good to know in case I need something special.”
After Richard closed the door behind him, he descended the steps beside her. “I overheard a few things you and Harriet talked about. I feel you need to know a little about her. Ten years ago my wife was pregnant with our first and only child. At eight months, he stopped moving. When she went to see the doctor, she found out that our child had died. She still had to go through labor to deliver a dead baby. After that, Harriet changed. She didn’t want to try and have another child. Since then, she tolerates the children of the guests. She doesn’t want to be around kids. I wanted you to know that Shaun hasn’t really done anything wrong. Your decision for you and Shaun to live in the carriage house would be better for Harriet, but I believe for you and your son also.”
“Less tension?”
Richard nodded, a shine to his eyes. “I love my wife, but something inside her died the day we lost our son.”
Lacey didn’t know what to say. Her throat thickened around each word she thought might be appropriate, but if she’d lost Shaun in childbirth, she imagined she would have a huge hole in her heart, too. She swallowed several times before she said, “Thank you for letting me know. Shaun can be active and overzealous at times. Besides, I’m thinking of getting him a dog. Our living in the carriage house would be better for all involved.”
“See you at five in the kitchen.” He headed for the bed and breakfast’s SUV.
Now she had time to go through the carriage house and make sketches of how she wanted to remodel it. Then she would show them to Tom and see if what she envisioned was doable.
As she strolled to the building, she found a perfect place for a fountain and pond to be located. She would talk with the gardener tomorrow to see if Gus could put one in.
She paused and relished the sweet scent of honeysuckle and gardenia bushes near the entrance into the carriage house, soon to be her new home. The sun’s warmth bathed her. A light breeze played with the strands of her hair. Not a cloud in the sky. In the past, she’d rarely stopped what she was doing to savor the moment.
But she did now.
Tranquil. Invigorating. A haven after living in the midst of a gang-infested war zone.
She sighed and unlocked the main door with her key. She would have Tom knock out the short hallway walls and open up the place. She stopped in the entrance to the suite on the right. It would be where her living room, dining area, and kitchen would be. When she put its key into the lock and turned it, she found it already open. Strange. Each interior door to the two suites were kept locked as well as the outside one.
Maybe the last time
she’d been here, she’d forgotten to secure it properly. With her distracting thoughts of Ryan, she could see where she might have. She hadn’t dated since her husband died, but that had been her choice. She’d had several offers, but she’d totally messed up her first choice and didn’t want to do that a second time.
As she entered the suite, anticipation of the possibilities for her life and her future home surged through her with excitement.
Until she saw the walls riddled with holes in them.
What in the world…
What if the person who made these is still here?
Chapter Five
“Sheriff McNeil here.” Ryan recognized the number of the bed and breakfast.
“Ryan, this is Lacey. Someone broke into the carriage house and made a bunch of holes in the walls.”
“Where are you now?”
“When I saw the vandalism, I fled to the main house.”
Ryan increased the speed of the car. “I’m almost there. Stay where you are.”
Holes in the walls? Why?
A few minutes later, Ryan drove into his driveway, parked, and hurried to the bed and breakfast. Keeping his gaze on the carriage house, he knocked on the kitchen door. It opened immediately.
“You weren’t kidding about being almost here, and I’m glad. I’ve been keeping an eye on the door into the carriage house. No one has come out.”
“There are other ways. You stay here while I go through the place.”
“But, I—”
“Stay here.”
She trailed him to the rear door.
He rotated toward her and leaned against the exit. “Don’t even go out on the patio. We don’t know what’s going on. No reason to put yourself at risk.”
“How about you?”
He clasped the butt of his gun in his holster at his side. “I’ve been trained to deal with these types of situations. Do I need any keys?”
“In case you do, here.” Lacey thrust the keychain into his hand.
Her touch set off myriad sensations zipping through him. “Did you go into both suites?”
“Only into the one on the right. I didn’t go that far into it.”
He turned his back on her. “Good. You didn’t disturb the scene—much.”
He strode to the carriage house, approaching the first suite cautiously. The door wasn’t locked. He took out his gun and moved into the living area. The Swiss cheese walls went throughout the suite, even in the bathroom. The holes were no more than two inches in diameter from his waist down to the floor. All the windows were locked.
After Ryan crossed to the suite on the left, he found the same scene in the large sitting area but the bedroom didn’t have many holes in the wall. The window in it, facing away from the main house and toward Chesapeake Bay, was unlocked. When had the burglar done this? Last night? During the daytime?
No, the intruder most likely was interrupted with Lacey’s appearance because the walls weren’t riddled with holes in this bedroom.
Was this part of the burglary ring that had been plaguing the area for the past month?
Probably not. The MO wasn’t like any of the other places hit. This took time. With the other burglaries, the thieves had entered at different times, day or night, only staying there less than half an hour.
Something else was going on here, whether the ring was involved or not.
Ryan returned to the kitchen to find not just Lacey but Richard and Harriet standing at the island counter, waiting for him. “Both suites are similar except for one bedroom. There weren’t a lot of holes there.”
Lacey paled. “He was in there when I was. I could have…”
Ryan covered her hand on the counter. “But the intruder left rather than confront you. You’re all right.” He wanted to comfort her more, but he was determined to get to the bottom of the break-in. “I’m calling one of my deputies to help me process the scene. It’s obvious whoever’s responsible for making the holes was searching for something. Do any of you know what it might be?”
“Bugs,” Richard said with a shrug.
Harriet punched him in the upper arm. “This isn’t a joking matter.”
“So your contractor wouldn’t be looking for damaged pipes or something?” Ryan asked, although it was unlikely. He had to rule out what he could.
All three shook their heads.
“Where is Tom?” Ryan withdrew his cell phone.
“Checking the third floor. His workers completed it this morning. I’ll go get him.” Lacey headed into the hallway.
“I’m trying to remember any work done, not counting cosmetic changes, on the bed and breakfast other than when it was renovated extensively nineteen years ago. I can’t, but then I wasn’t here some of that time.” Ryan speed-dialed his office.
“No, other than the pipes replaced on the first floor bathroom and kitchen ten years ago. And nothing with the carriage house.” Harriet moved to the coffeepot and held it up. “Want any?”
“No,” Ryan said while the phone rang. When his receptionist/secretary answered, he requested the nearest deputy be dispatched to the bed and breakfast.
Lacey and Tom came into the kitchen. “I’d like to take a look at what was done,” he said when Ryan finished his call.
“Me, too,” Harriet said.
Ryan held up his hand. “After I process the carriage house, I want you all to go through the crime scene and tell me what you think.”
“It couldn’t be any of my workers. No reason to. Plus I keep a close eye on what they’re doing.” Tom poured himself a cup of coffee. “I’ll finish up the third floor inspection then come back down.” He glanced at Lacey. “I guess it’s a good thing you were going to redo the carriage house.”
Ryan remembered seeing some workers there working last week. “Redo the carriage house? Weren’t those renovations already completed?”
“Shaun and I are going to live there once the two suites are combined into one unit. It’ll seem more like our own home.” Lacey exchanged a look with Harriet.
Had something happened between them? “After I’m finished with the carriage house, I’ll do a walkthrough the whole place with an eye on security. That’s why I was headed here when you called.”
“Good. The carriage house, too.” Fear leaked into her expression.
He wanted to make her feel better. Any intrusion was a violation—very personal. For some it changed how they felt about a place. “Definitely.”
As he strode to the carriage house, he couldn’t shake the need to protect Lacey and her son. He didn’t have a good feeling about what was going on. Why holes in the walls? Looking for something?
* * *
That evening on the patio, surrounded by the beautiful gardens filled with roses, azaleas, and hydrangea bushes, Lacey should feel at peace, content. The location and weather alluded it. The main house was going to reopen on time. And now that the sun had set an hour ago, the discreet lighting illuminated the surroundings just enough to allow a person to enjoy the colorful flowers but with a sense of privacy as though no one else was around.
But Lacey knew better.
After the lurker the other day and now the vandalism in the carriage house, it was evident someone was watching the B and B. The thought shivered down her length. Her gaze landed on the door into the place she was going to make her home.
When Ryan returned from talking on the phone to a deputy at the station, he sank onto the wooden bench next to Lacey. “I hope there’re no more calls tonight. Nothing good comes from them.”
“What’s going on?”
“That was Deputy Ferguson. Johnston, one of the burglars we caught, jumped White, the other one.”
“A falling out between thieves. That might not be so bad.”
“No, I don’t think White is actually part of the ring. I’ve separated him from the other inmates.”
“Do you think what happened today is part of what’s going on in the area?” She shifted so she faced him on the
bench. She’d thought coming to the bed and breakfast would make her feel safe, that she’d be able to protect her son.
“That’s a possibility, but in my gut, I don’t feel it’s connected. Most of the robberies have been similar. With you, nothing’s been taken. Just vandalism.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better. And for the record, we don’t know that something wasn’t found. Maybe the intruder was here during the night, got what he was looking for, and left, not bothering to close the bedroom window. But then what he took would have to be small to fit through a hole.”
He cupped her hand between his. “I know. I wish I could assure you that you’ll be okay. I can’t. I’ll do all I can to keep you safe. That’s my job, but after years of being in law enforcement, I have to admit that there’s no guarantee you will be. I can’t control that. It sounds cynical, but it’s also freeing. I have to turn your well-being over to the Lord. That doesn’t mean I don’t do the best job I can. It means I don’t waste time worrying about the future.”
“For years, that’s all I’ve been doing, worrying about how I was going to pay off my deceased husband’s debts and keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. I thought when I received this inheritance that, finally, my life was turning around. I’m not afraid of hard work. I’ve been doing it since I became an adult. But this unknown threat has come out of the blue. Neither of us has any idea what’s going on. How do I not worry?”
“Pray. Ask God for help. I promise that all your worrying won’t change the outcome. In fact, when I did worry a problem to death, I made it worse. Once, in a case as an FBI agent, I tried to force a solution that, in the end, almost got my partner killed. That’s when I left the job and reassessed my life.”
That was all she’d been doing—trying to force what she wanted. She’d had no choice but to repay the money her husband owed after his death, or the unsavory person would have come after her and Shaun. The lack of control over her circumstances nearly drove her over the edge, especially when neighbor kids ganged up on Shaun. Then she’d received the notification from the lawyer about her inheritance from Mr. Hopewell. She hadn’t even known who he was until she met with the attorney. She’d thought she’d been given a second chance, but now she wasn’t so sure.
Deadly Legacy Page 4