Eastlyn leaned over his shoulder to skim the document. “I’ll be damned. Clive cut the lumber for Cooper to build our bookshelves.”
“I remember that,” Tucker said. “I’m sorry. I am. I thought he was a good guy.”
Up to now, Brent had kept his mouth shut. But without warning, he shoved off the wall and narrowed his eyes. “If that’s Gordon Carnaby in the Camaro, then two of the three men in this photo are dead. Joe was shot to death, Carnaby killed with a knife to the heart. Clive is the only one left standing.”
“So what do we do, Boss?” Eastlyn asked.
“We know Clive manipulated Oliver into finding the remains of what we think is Carnaby, doing his best to blame Vernon.”
“What?” Oliver sucked in a breath. “He did?”
“Yeah. He did. And for a few hours, it looked bad for Vernon. What if we faked Clive into believing that his plan was still working? What if we bring Vernon back in…tonight? Clive would be less inclined to go after anyone else in this room if he thought his plan had succeeded. Right?”
“You want to arrest Vernon?” Colt stated.
“I want Clive to think we’re arresting Vernon. I’m pretty sure Vernon would love to clear his name if it gets him completely off the hook. Wouldn’t you?”
“Then what?” Tucker wanted to know.
“For the next twenty-four hours, you’ll need to pretend like everything is normal.” Brent looked around at Bodie and Oliver. “That includes you two.” He turned back to Tucker. “First thing tomorrow morning, you call me as soon as Clive clocks in, letting me know he’s there. If he shows up like he always does, then we know he’s taken the bait.”
Bodie’s brow creased in a frown. “And what if Clive takes off in the middle of the night?”
“I’ll babysit him,” Eastlyn volunteered. “From a distance.”
Tucker wasn’t so sure. “Look, I’m not trying to tell anyone here how to do their jobs, but Clive had me completely fooled. The man’s not stupid. Plus, he’s cocky.”
“True. I’m counting on it. He thinks he’s clever, smarter than any of us,” Brent pointed out. “As long as he believes that, we have the advantage. Tomorrow, we show up at the hardware store unannounced. We make an easy takedown, get Clive off the street. After we get him in custody, we execute several search warrants looking for the nine-millimeter, phony passports, boarding passes, pilot’s license, anything that connects him to at least one of the five murders we believe he’s committed.”
“I’ll volunteer to take the first watch with Eastlyn,” Tucker offered.
“No. That won’t work. Clive might spot you, and it would ruin the whole show. No, we’re gonna make a big production about arresting Vernon. I have a friend in the media. It’s the only way to make sure Clive lets down his guard and fully believes he’s in the clear.”
“Poor Vernon,” Bodie murmured.
“Don’t worry about him,” Brent said. “I’ll make sure he understands what his role is.”
“The man likes to haggle. He loves besting people at their own game,” Oliver added. “He’ll probably love the attention. If anyone can bounce back, it’ll be Mr. Jackdaw.”
Brent pointed his finger at the kid. “There you go. Oliver knows him well. By the time this is all over, Vernon Jackdaw will no doubt have everybody eating out of the palm of his hand, maybe get to unload a few of those classic cars along the way.”
Twenty-Three
It was a restless, uneasy night for Tucker and Bodie. While Oliver was sacked out in Tucker’s old room with the dogs, sleep eluded them. Trying to put up a normal front wasn’t that easy. At the opposite end of the house with very few lights on, Bodie brewed a pot of coffee. They sat together, side by side, at the counter.
“I can’t imagine what Eastlyn is doing right about now,” she remarked. “I couldn’t do what she does. What if Clive spots her and hits her over the head or something, then takes off?”
“I thought about that, too. We’ve probably been watching too many movies. The whole situation makes me nervous, though.”
“It’s unsettling for sure. According to Brent, when the alarm goes off in five hours, I’m supposed to go to work at six like nothing’s happened. But I don’t even want to open the front door, let alone go outside.”
Tucker squeezed her fingers. “Maybe by nine, this will all be over.”
“What if he doesn’t show up for work?”
“I don’t even want to consider that possibility.”
When his cell phone buzzed, he traded worried looks with Bodie when he didn’t recognize the number.
Sitting next to him, Bodie caught movement behind her. Thinking it was one of the dogs, she glanced over her shoulder toward the den. There was a brief moment when she froze before elbowing Tucker in the ribs and bobbing her head toward a man standing in the shadows holding a gun in one hand and a cell phone up to his ear.
Tucker cut his eyes to follow the track of Bodie’s. He shifted on the barstool to see Clive Ogilvie standing less than six feet away. Tucker watched him pocket the cell phone and switch the nine-millimeter into his right hand. He realized it was probably the same weapon used to kill his father. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Boy, don’t you have a clue by now? I know this house better than you do. I know ways in and ways out. Where’d you find the .38? I wanna know. I looked for it myself a time or two.”
Tucker ignored the question. He slid off the stool and stood up. “Did you kill my sister?”
“Oh, that’s not fair. You don’t get to ask me about Tessie right off.”
“You don’t get to say her name.” Tucker took a step closer, eyeing the automatic pistol. “Go ahead and use that thing, but one way or the other, I want to know why you murdered Tessie.”
“Your sister’s death, that’s on your dad. Like always, Joe wouldn’t listen. He was ready to break ranks and go spill everything to the cops, everything we’d been doing, everything that happened that August night. Said he had guilt about it, couldn’t sleep. I tried to reason with him, tried to put the fear of prison in him because of the insurance scam. We were in deep, arson, murder, bodies left at the boathouse, his first mate vanishing without a trace. He wouldn’t listen. Joe figured he could cut a deal and hang me out to dry.” Clive narrowed his eyes. “Nobody hangs me out to dry, not even Joe. In the end, the only thing your father understood was good old-fashioned fear. I had to get his attention. Tessie was the only way. You were gone camping that day, or it would’ve been you instead of the girl.”
Tucker clenched his fists as he took another step toward Clive. “Such a big man you are, willing to take out a little girl, strangling her to death the way you did. She never did a thing to you. Those college kids were in the wrong place at the wrong time. They never did anything to you either except witness how you murdered Gordon Carnaby. That’s what happened, isn’t it?”
“Gordon wasn’t even supposed to be on the boat that night. He came out on deck after I’d already poured the gasoline, started yelling and screaming when he saw what I intended to do. I had to shut him up. There was no other way. There were other boats moored nearby. I couldn’t wait until Gordom woke up the entire harbor with his caterwauling.”
“So you shut him up with a knife to the heart. How does it make you feel murdering three people in one night, killing a little girl later for self-preservation?”
“Honestly, I never thought those kids would ever turn up. And I thought nobody cared about old Gordon. Imagine my surprise to stumble on a website dedicated to finding him, offered a reward, too. That was my good deed, to give old Gordon back to his family.”
“Bullshit. You were trying to frame Vernon for the murder. Look at one murder and tie him to the rest. And what about Tessie? No guilt there?”
“Look, I warned your old man what would happen if he didn’t keep his mouth shut. He made a choice. It’s not my fault that Joe refused to take me seriously.”
Tucker tightened
his jaw. “You weren’t on the work crew at all, were you?”
“Course not. I was a sheriff’s deputy. Back then, I didn’t get my hands dirty.”
“Somebody had to work the crane.”
Clive grinned. “Yeah, now you’re beginning to get it. The crane and the cement mix were right there that night, sitting on the pier, waiting for us to put it to good use. Don’t try to act all high and mighty with me, boy. It was Joe’s idea to use the crane to lift the bodies up and then drop them down into the pillars, make them disappear for good. I would’ve never thought of that. Genius is what it was. We both mixed up enough wet cement and then poured it down the hole, enough to cover the bodies. When the crew arrived the next day, Joe was right there to explain it all away, how he’d authorized the work by another crew. Nobody questioned a thing.”
The truth tasted like the bitterest pill. But Tucker didn’t doubt for a minute that his father had gone along with all of it.
“What’s going on out here?” Oliver asked from the hallway, rubbing his eyes. “I can hear you guys…”
When Clive turned his head to look at Oliver, Tucker launched himself, butting his head into Clive’s gut.
The men fell onto the floor. The two rolled and wrestled to get control of the gun. With a madness and a fury, he didn’t know he possessed, Tucker slammed the man’s head into the hardwood floor, then began to pummel Clive’s face. He didn’t let up until he felt Clive’s body go limp. He was still sitting on top of the man’s chest when Brent hauled him off.
“Good job,” Brent said, laying a hand on Tucker’s chest and forcing him back a step. “You’ve done the hard part, now let us take over from here.”
Tucker used his forearm to wipe sweat from his brow and spared a glance over at Clive sprawled on the floor. Years of frustration and inner turmoil washed out of him. “He admitted everything, including murdering Tessie.”
Bodie held up her phone. “The minute Clive started talking, I started videotaping. It’s all here.”
Brent’s lips curved. “Even better. Send me that.”
“Email or text?” Bodie asked. “Nevermind. I’ll do both for backup just in case.”
“I thought you guys were supposed to keep an eye on him,” Tucker gulped out between deep breaths to calm himself down.
“We did,” Brent said. “As soon as we realized he’d snuck out the back, we knew where to look.”
“I guess Clive didn’t take the bait then, did he?” Bodie pointed out, her arm wrapping around Tucker’s waist.
“We figured that out not long after I arrived at Clive’s place,” Eastlyn explained as she slapped handcuffs on Clive’s wrists before yanking the man to his feet. “As soon as he started loading up his truck, Colt and I moved in. That’s when we realized Clive had ducked out the back.”
“You were like a superhero,” Oliver declared as the dogs began to swarm around Tucker.
“Not really,” Tucker stated, throwing an arm over Bodie’s shoulder.
“Yeah, you were. The guy had a gun.”
“He’s got you there,” Bodie agreed. “Disarming a gunman makes you a superhero in my book.”
“Mine too,” Oliver echoed.
Before Brent turned to leave, he slapped Tucker on the back. “You guys get some sleep. I’ll stop by tomorrow and give you an update on whatever we get out of him. Clive’s not going anywhere for a long time.”
“Thanks to Tucker,” Oliver chimed in, slapping his thigh to get the dogs’ attention. “Come on, hounds. Let’s go back to bed. I’ll read you guys a story.”
Tucker watched the teen fly down the hallway laughing, glad to hear a few sounds of joy bouncing off the walls for a change. “He’s wide awake.”
“And a good kid,” Bodie put in. “Next time I see Julianne, I’m giving her my two cents about that.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to sit down with Kris, too.” He kissed the top of her hair. “Let’s go to bed. I’m suddenly exhausted.”
Bodie busted out laughing as the two made their way into the master bedroom. “You just finished beating up the guy who killed your sister. I’d say you deserve a good night’s sleep.”
Tucker yanked his shirt over his head. It wasn’t until then that he realized there were splatters of blood on it, Clive’s blood. He tossed it in the wastebasket next to the bed. “I wanna sleep till noon.”
“What about the store?”
“Who cares about the stupid store? It only exists now because three innocent people died that night. Nothing is worth that. How do I look anybody in the eye around here and deal with knowing that?”
“It’s not that bad. Your dad’s gone. He’s out of the picture. The store provides employment. You provide goods and services that the whole town needs. Although you will need to get a new guy to work that saw.”
He plopped down on the bed to kick off his shoes. “No problem there. Next time I hire anyone, I’m doing a deep dive into the person’s past.”
“Don’t be so cynical. Scott told me that.”
Tucker dropped one of his shoes. “You talk to Scott?”
“Ever since I got here. The night after I moved in as a matter of fact. I was sitting outside in the backyard, watching my first sunset over Smuggler’s Bay. This guy appears out of nowhere, sits down across the courtyard from me like he owns the place, and starts up a conversation. Oh, he kept his distance so as not to scare the bejesus out of me. But it was too late. I think I picked up a brick to defend myself. Didn’t do a thing to scare him away, though. Not one bit. We had a lengthy discussion that night. He told me about his life here in town, told me about his daughter and talked about his marriage to Jordan. Despite everything that happened to the guy, Scott still loves this place. His life wasn’t perfect. No one’s is. The thing is, Scott allowed me to see the town through his eyes. I used to think I fell in love with Pelican Pointe because of him. But after getting to know you, I think I fell in love with you right along with the town.”
He ran a thumb across her cheek. “I’m in love with you, too. With everything going on, I just didn’t feel comfortable letting my guard down. And then, I didn’t know how to tell you.”
Bodie rested her head on Tucker’s shoulder. “And now?”
He blew out a breath. “Now, I just want to start my life with you. Here. We could renovate this place, modernize it, make it ours, make it a real home. Do it together.”
“Is that a proposal?” She laughed and threw her arms around his neck. “Just kidding. I don’t care. I just want to be with you.”
Epilogue
Six weeks later
Harvesting grapes in August on a Sunday afternoon was sweaty work. But standing in the rolling hillside, in the middle of Dancing in the Moonlight Vineyard, Caleb and Hannah’s winery, Bodie loved every minute of it. Spending time outdoors. Fresh air. No stale smell of grease wafting from the Diner’s kitchen and sticking to her clothes and hair.
What wasn’t to savor or enjoy?
Caleb and Hannah had used their first full crop of ripened wine grapes as an excuse to throw a party. And what a gathering. The entire town had turned out to bring in the harvest for the first batch of grapes earmarked to make their special merlot.
The vineyard had grown and sold table grapes before this—plump white ones that tasted like sweet heaven. They’d also used the same grape to bottle a small batch of Riesling. But the couple had been waiting three long years for today when they’d get to bring in enough crop to produce wine—vats of the stuff—from the infamous 1930s de Haviland grape.
Bodie held a handful of the dark-blue, sweet-smelling berries in her hand. Using the pruning shears, she snipped the cluster from the vine before dropping the bunch in her basket. To her, this was the ultimate way to spend a Sunday, outside, celebrating the end of the growing season.
Sunshine beat down through the rows of vines as she and Tucker worked their assigned area. Without warning, he stopped in front of her and she bumped into his back. Grinning like a c
razy person, he circled her waist, twirling her around in a dance.
“What on earth has gotten into you?”
“We’re dancing…in the vineyard.”
“But there’s no moonlight.”
“We’re improvising. Close your eyes. See the moonlight now?”
Caught up, she could imagine the sun setting over the water and a full moon appearing low in the eastern sky. They twirled and spun around like kids without a care in the world. until he finally plopped her on her feet.
“Look around, Bodie. This is what I want for us. I don’t want us to end up like my parents. Not ever. I don’t want to spend my life like that in a loveless marriage. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But I don’t want to turn these happy times we’ve had into a…silent war.”
She held a finger up to his lips. “We won’t.”
In the weeks since Clive’s arrest, Tucker had been more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. To avoid facing the death penalty in Florida, Clive had cooperated with Brent in exchange for staying in California. Joe’s former partner in crime had put together the pieces of the puzzle, bit by bit, about what he’d done to secure a better future for both men.
But as Bodie had cautioned Tucker often during the updates they usually got from Brent, this was Clive’s story, his version of events. And since he was the only one left alive to tell the tale, what came out of Clive’s mouth had to be taken with a grain of salt.
It hadn’t helped matters that when they started renovating the house on San Pedro Circle, they’d discovered a hidden panel in Joe’s study where he’d stashed a hundred grand.
Whether old Joe had forgotten about it or simply kept it around for a rainy day, they had no way of knowing.
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