Benny Kai answered on the first ring. “Mr. Barclay, I was just getting ready to call you.”
“What did you find out?”
“Unfortunately, not much.”
A bitter disappointment came over Liam.
“As you know, Cooper has owned the art gallery for three years. He paid cash for it, so there’s not much there. If you go back past three years, there’s nothing. It’s like the guy suddenly appeared out of thin air.”
Liam’s hand tightened on the phone. “That in itself is suspicious.”
“My thoughts exactly. He’s renting the home in Kailua for an exorbitant price.”
“Really? I thought he owned that house.”
“Nope, I spoke to the actual owners. Cooper has expressed interest in purchasing it, but he told them he would have to move some funds around first.”
“Hmm … interesting. What else?”
Benny cleared his throat. “Here’s where it gets strange. I asked around about the man you saw in Cooper’s gallery. The drawing you gave me was excellent, by the way. It looks almost exactly like his photo.”
“It helps to be an artist by trade,” Liam said dryly.
“Yes, I guess so. Anyway, the guy’s name is Clarence Dew. Does that name mean anything to you?”
“No.”
“According to my source, Clarence has a long rap sheet that includes selling stolen art on the black market.”
“I knew it!” Liam felt a burst of hope. Maybe this was the lead they were looking for. “Were you able to question him? If we can get him to talk, then we can go to the police.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
“Why not?”
“Clarence is dead.”
Liam gulped in air. “What?” He shook his head, trying to think. “What happened?”
“He was found two nights ago in an alley in Honolulu. He took a bullet to the head. No witnesses and no suspects.”
A chill ran over Liam. “Do you think Cooper did it?”
“There’s no way of knowing. This guy was mixed up in so many underhanded deals, somebody was bound to do him in eventually.” Long pause. “I wish I had more for you, but that’s it for now. I’ll keep searching to see what I can turn up.”
“I have a lead that might help.” He told Benny about the incident at the restaurant. “The name’s Mitchell Grant, and the woman said he was from South Carolina. Mitchell left behind a widow and child, so it should be relatively easy to find information on him.”
“I’ll check on that today.”
Liam thought of something else. “Have you been keeping Cooper under 24-hour surveillance?”
There was a long pause. “We’ve been tailing him, but I didn’t realize you wanted us to watch him around the clock.”
Liam swore under his breath. “Yes, that’s what I want.”
“I really don’t have the staff for that sort of a thing.”
“Then hire somebody. I don’t care what it costs.”
“It may take a few days to set that up.”
“I want it done yesterday.”
Benny laughed nervously. “TIH, man.”
Benny was referring to the oft-used acronym that stood for This is Hawaii, meaning take a chill pill because everything moved at a slower pace here. But this couldn’t wait. “Do whatever you have to in order to set up 24-hour surveillance. I don’t care what it costs.”
He sighed. “Okay. You’re the boss.”
“Do you have anything on Cooper’s whereabouts yesterday?”
Liam could hear papers rustling in the background.
“Let me check on that and get back to you.”
“I need you to call me back today. I want a report on Mitchell Grant and the surveillance.”
“What happened yesterday?”
“Maurie and I went sailing and had a bonfire on the beach to celebrate my birthday. A guy driving an Audi like Cooper’s was parked along the side of the road at the harbor when we returned the sailboat. Maurie saw him, and he sped off. Later that night when we were having a bonfire on the beach, a man was hiding in the bushes, watching us. He ran off before I could identify him.”
“Wow. That’s concerning.”
“Yeah. Now you know why I need you to keep a close watch on him.”
“There’s a lot that doesn’t add up here. A man doesn’t just appear out of the blue one day like Cooper has. If I can get a picture of Mitchell Grant, then we’ll know for sure if it’s Cooper. That’s enough to go to the police.”
“Okay, let me know what you find.”
“Will do.”
Liam ended the call and took a drink of his smoothie. Had Cooper killed Clarence Dew? Liam had googled Mitchell Grant in conjunction with South Carolina and came up with 20-30 listings in the white pages, but he couldn’t find anything about Mitchell Grant’s death. Hopefully, Benny would turn up something.
It then occurred to him that Rebel was nowhere to be found. He scoured the backyard. Where was she? “Rebel! Come here, girl!”
No response.
Panic tightened his throat. Not again. His backyard backed up to a golf course. He walked to the edge and looked. “Rebel!” He heard a dog barking in the distance. Was that her? He cocked his head, listening intently. There it was again. It sounded like her. He stepped onto the golf course and walked in the direction of the barking. There were three trees up ahead. As he neared them, Rebel ran out from behind one of them. Relief swept over him.
He bent over and patted his thigh. “Come ‘ere, girl.” When he scooped her up, she buried her nose in the bend of his elbow. “You naughty dog. I’m going to have to keep you on a leash if you keep running away,” he said, rubbing her back.
He walked back to his condo and deposited Rebel inside, ignoring her forlorn look as he closed the glass door. Then he resumed his spot on the patio and finished drinking his smoothie. His mother called from England, and he chatted with her, getting caught up on news of the family. But all the while, he was on autopilot, his mind running through his conversation with Benny. Thirty minutes later, he stood. A wave of dizziness assaulted him. He shook his head in an attempt to ward it off. He reached for his phone and took a couple of steps. He staggered, then collapsed.
A suffocating darkness closed in around Liam. He wanted to run, but his legs were concrete. The ground dropped out from underneath his feet, and he was sinking into quicksand. A swift terror raced through him, and he reached out to Cooper, who was standing nearby, watching with an apathetic expression. Menacing voices ricocheted around him. And then he was disappearing deeper and deeper into oblivion.
Maurie’s cell phone buzzed, sending a blip of fear running through her. Another text. Was this one from Cooper too? He’d called her seven times and left at least that many texts. Avoiding him was proving to be much more difficult than she thought. Maybe she should call him. The last thing she wanted was for him to show up at her house because he couldn’t get in touch with her. A shiver ran down her spine, and she willed herself to take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Panicking wasn’t going to solve anything. She was still trying to wrap her mind around what was happening. Cooper had seemed like the perfect guy. It was hard to reconcile the sophisticated gallery owner and art broker with the guy that had threatened Liam and stalked them on the beach. Furthermore, if he turned out to be Mitchell Grant then that meant he faked his death and deserted his widow and child. There were so many unanswered questions.
She picked up her phone, dreading looking at it. The most recent text was from Liam. She let out a sigh of relief. Then she read the text. Liam was asking her to come over as soon as possible, so they could talk. Maybe Liam had found out some information from the private investigator. She tried calling him, but it went to voicemail. A few minutes later, she grabbed her purse and darted out the door.
Maurie rang the doorbell a couple of times, but Liam didn’t answer. She knocked. Still, no answer. A sense of unease pricked at her. Liam had a
sked her to come over. Why wasn’t he answering? She used her key to let herself in, then disabled the alarm. “Hello! Liam! Are you here?”
Rebel came sauntering up. “Hey, girl.” Maurie bent down and rubbed her head. Rebel started whimpering. “What’s wrong? Where’s Liam?” She stood and looked around. A sound came from Liam’s bedroom. She walked down the hall and opened the door. Liam was lying in bed, partially covered with a sheet. One of his muscular legs was hanging off the bed. Her heart clutched. Was he breathing? She rushed to his side. “Liam.” She shook his arm. “Wake up.” A heady relief pulsed over her when he groaned.
She heard a sound from behind and spun around, shocked to see Jenna standing in the doorway of the master bath, wearing only a towel. A searing anger split through her head as she looked from Jenna to Liam. “What’s going on here?”
Jenna laughed. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Maurie was too stunned to speak.
“I stopped by late last night to check on Liam … and well, things just kind of took off from there.”
The world started to spin as Maurie tore out of the room, her only thought to get as far away from the scene as possible.
Chapter 13
“Gotcha,” Benny said as he leaned back in his chair and propped his arms behind his head. The picture of Mitchell Grant was a dead ringer for Cooper Manning. Benny was grateful to finally have a lead for Liam. Especially, since Liam was paying him top dollar. Just when he was starting to wonder if he would find anything on Cooper, the tides shifted in his direction—thanks mostly to his unique investigating technique. After Benny got off the phone with Liam, he started calling funeral homes in South Carolina, pretending he was the brother of the late Grant Mitchell and that he’d received an erroneous bill for services rendered five years prior. After a dozen or so calls, he struck gold when he connected with a sweet-talking Southern belle named Jackie who was very forthcoming. Once she established that the bill had been paid in full by Everly Grant, Mitchell’s widow, she told him how she remembered that particular funeral well because her son was in the same preschool class as Mitchell’s son. By the time he got off the phone, Benny managed to get the story on how Mitchell died, as well as Everly’s cell number. He then called Everly, cringing inwardly the entire time. The poor woman thought her husband was dead. If Grant Mitchell was indeed Cooper, then that meant the scoundrel faked his death and deserted her. If Mitchell wasn’t Cooper then he was unnecessarily reopening old wounds. Either way, Everly Grant was bound to get the short end of the stick.
Everly was understandably upset, especially considering her friend, DeAnna, was claiming she saw Mitchell’s double in Hawaii. Benny asked Everly to email him a picture of her late husband. When Benny opened the attachment, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mitchell and Cooper were indeed the same man. He was just about to call Everly back and tell her the news when he heard the front door open. Was that his secretary, Vanita? He’d sent her to pick up burgers for lunch, but she’d only been gone about ten minutes. Not nearly enough to time to drive through traffic to the nearest Jack in the Box and back. It was probably a client or delivery person. He was getting out of his chair when a middle-aged man with a closely cropped beard stepped into his office.
He frowned. “Do you have an appointment?”
“Don’t need one,” the man replied, sitting down in the plastic chair in front of Benny’s desk. Another man stepped through the door and remained standing.
Apprehension slithered over Benny. He would’ve felt much better if he had his gun. But he didn’t make a practice of wearing it at the office because it made Vanita uneasy. Instead, he kept it in the wall safe hidden behind the filing cabinet to his right. His pulse increased. “What do you want?”
“Information.” The man crossed his legs, then pulled a cigarette and lighter from his pocket. He took his time placing it in his mouth before lighting it.
It was on the tip of Benny’s tongue to tell him the office was a no smoking zone, but he figured a cigarette was the least of his problems. Even though the men were well dressed, there was a cutthroat vibe about them that let Benny know they were thugs from the word go. “What kind of information?”
Leisurely, he exhaled, sending a plume of smoke rising into the air. “It’s Benny, isn’t it?”
Benny acknowledged the question with a slight nod. “And you are?”
“Rico.”
“From the East Coast, I presume.”
He looked impressed. “I see you’re as good at discerning accents as you are at investigating.” He flicked his cigarette, letting the ashes fall to the floor. “You’ve been asking questions about Cooper Manning.” His merciless eyes cut into Benny’s.
Benny met his glare full on. “Sorry. I’m not at liberty to share confidential information about my clients. I could get sued.”
Rico looked at the other man and chuckled. “You hear that, Tommy? Benny’s worried he might get sued.” A sneer twisted over his face as he snuffed out the cigarette on top of the desk and tossed it onto the floor. He held up his hands as if they were a balance used for measuring. “Let’s see if I can make this simple for you. Give me the information I want and live …” he held up his other hand “… or don’t, and die. Which one’s it gonna be?”
Terror seized Benny when Tommy pulled a gun. “I don’t want any trouble.”
“Then tell us who hired you to investigate Cooper Manning,” Rico pressed.
Beads of sweat broke across Benny’s brow as he swallowed. Squealing on a client went against everything Benny stood for, but he didn’t want to die. “I was hired by an artist named Liam Barclay.”
“Why?”
“He wanted to know if Cooper was legit.”
Rico shook his head. “Come on, Benny. You can do better than that.”
Benny blew out a defeated breath. “Cooper’s engaged to Liam’s business partner, Maurie. Liam overheard a conversation between Cooper and another man that led him to believe Cooper’s selling stolen art.”
“Was the man Clarence Dew?”
“Yes.” It took half a second for Benny to connect the dots. “You killed him.” A chill came over Benny when Rico smiled, giving the impression he was the devil incarnate.
“Clarence and I go way back. He got what he deserved.” Rico chuckled. “So, Christopher’s engaged,” he mused, stroking his beard. “Interesting.”
“Who’s Christopher?” Benny said.
Rico was amused. “Does the name Christopher Silvers mean anything to you?”
“No.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “Maybe I gave you too much credit earlier.”
Then it dawned on Benny. “Christopher Silvers is Cooper.”
“Bingo,” Rico chimed. “What do you know about The storm on the Sea of Galilee?”
“What? Is that some sort of Bible story?”
Rico’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t play dumb with me. Where’s the painting?”
A sick panic came over Benny. He’d seen these men’s faces. They weren’t going to let him live. His eyes widened. “Look, I was only hired to find out about Cooper. I don’t know anything about that painting. I swear.”
They sat eyeing one another as Benny melted into a puddle of sweat.
Rico smirked. “You know what? I believe you.”
A weak relief sputtered over Benny when Rico stood. “You do?”
“Absolutely.”
The minute these men walked out the door, Benny was going to call Liam and tell him he was off the case. No amount of money was worth this amount of stress.
When Rico reached the door, he paused. “Tommy, I believe we’re done here. You know what to do.”
“No, please,” Benny said as Tommy lifted the gun and fired.
Several hours later, the numbness started to wear off, leaving only rage. Maurie couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid. Just when she was starting to trust Liam, he pulled something like this. Now she was second-guessing everything. H
ad Liam been telling the truth about Cooper? Or was it all some elaborate setup? She never wanted to see Liam again, much less work with him in a business.
Her phone rang. It was Liam. She growled, then hurled the phone across the room, tears springing to her eyes. She jumped when the doorbell rang, knowing it was either Liam or Cooper. She stood, frozen, unsure what to do. At this point, she didn’t trust either of them. The doorbell rang again, followed by loud knocking.
“Maurie. It’s me. Let me in.”
Her jaw clenched. “Go away, Liam!”
The door opened.
“What’re you doing?” she screamed. “You can’t just barge in here.”
He closed the space between them with quick steps. “You have to listen to me.”
She slapped him hard across the jaw. “Get out.”
“I’m not leaving until you let me explain.”
“Explain?” A hysterical laugh rose in her throat. “You kissed me last night and then hooked up with Jenna a few hours later. What’s there to explain?” Her eyes turned to marbles. “Now’s not the time to be discussing this. For your own sake, you need to leave.”
“Why did you stop by this morning? We weren’t planning on meeting up until this afternoon.”
Her eyes went round. “You texted me. You said we needed to talk.”
He touched his forehead. “That’s what Cooper was doing with my phone, sending you a text.”
“What?”
“Maurie, do you really believe I’d be stupid enough to text and ask you to come over if I had another woman there? It was a setup.”
She had such a blinding headache she could hardly think. She slumped down on the sofa. “Liam, I can’t take anymore of these games. If you care about me at all, you’ll leave this instant.”
Liam also sat down. “Just hear me out, okay?”
“I’m listening,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Do you remember last Christmas when the Thompsons were robbed?”
Love on the Rocks (Hawaii Billionaire Romance) Page 10