by Kate Young
“I’m listening.” Betsy ate a lemon shortbread cookie.
“The detective is a smart guy. He’d have to be. He’s a decorated lawman. He had a vendetta against towns that hide crime, which is good, though he also has been accused of being dirty when it suits him. I know he signed the agreements ensuring they can’t come after me again. I’m still having a difficult time trusting him. I mean, what if he wants to sink our little island.” I raised my hands. “Metaphorically speaking. I’m going way out in left field here, using the whole what-ifs to suit us. All our other theories proved fruitless.”
“Sure, we never get anywhere without the what-ifs.” Betsy ate another cookie.
“I made a call to our friend Calhoun earlier, and he agreed it could be plausible. You know, he’s always had a special interest in our infamous detective.” Roy Calhoun was a reporter who I’d become close friends with a few years back. He and I shared a moment in time that bonded folks together like no other: death. Calhoun was now a family man with a couple of stepkids and a pretty wife. He was still in the field and still pursuing the theory that Thornton framed his brother for murder. He’d gladly share intel.
Betsy’s eyes went wide as she nodded. “I like it. Thornton is digging up our past, why shouldn’t we dig up his?”
“What if the detective had a personal interest in the fraudulent wire transfer? From what Calhoun’s gathered, our eager lawman has a mountain of debt and will be facing retirement soon.”
“You think he might be behind all of this?”
I shook my head. “Not all of it, but perhaps the bank heist. It’s way out there, I know. Just a what-if.”
“Hmm. That’s a lot of what-ifs.” Betsy wiped her running nose.
“Yeah, I know. I just keep worrying about Paul. I got the impression the detective didn’t believe the abductors would kill him and lose their leverage. I’m just not sure if me helping will do all that much good. Especially if they’re using me to trap Alex.” I drummed my nails on the table. “Come on.” I hopped up and decided to put all these what-ifs on the whiteboard.
Five minutes later I had it all written out. Betsy sat on the chair sipping from her mug. In the middle of the board I drew a large circle. Inside the circle I wrote a few dollar signs. I placed all of those affected around the circle: Lucy, Alex, Paul, Betsy, and Me. “Okay. Maybe we’ve been going about this the wrong way. What if the robbery was the main focus the entire time. Lucy worked at the bank and had access to all the pertinent information regarding bank transfers, routing numbers, and bank procedures.” I drew a line from the circle to Lucy. “Lucy’s murder, followed by the attempt on our lives, showed skill in diversion tactics.” I used a red dry-erase marker to write murder beside Lucy and car bombs next to Betsy and me. I added a question mark between Lucy and Paul. Now that he had become the killer’s latest target, the alleged relationship between them was plausible and relevant to this case.
“Don’t forget that someone placed a bomb under Paul’s company vehicle as well.”
I added it, as well as the abduction, next to Paul’s name, along with the unidentified dark-headed person from the video, and then wrote the detective’s name at the top of the board before stepping back and examining my work. I’d spent a minimal amount of time in Paul’s apartment. It’d been basic, with masculine furniture and nothing hanging on the walls. He had a mother somewhere who suffered from dementia. Other than her, he had no other family to speak of. He sent money to the care home monthly. I recalled him discussing with the proprietor regarding her health and care. Now I wished I had paid more attention to his life. Unfortunately, I couldn’t go back to his home. All evidence of his existence there had been erased. Who would be able to accomplish such a task? Alex? Hard to believe. The detective certainly would. Another stretch. What about the biker? How had he vanished like he had without another soul seeing? Had they checked the ferry registry?
“What’s that buzzing sound?”
I glanced around, listening for the buzzing Betsy referenced. “I don’t hear anything. Your ears must be clogged.” I sneezed a few times and sat next to Betsy. “We need to go over to Alex’s. Preferably when he isn’t there.” I wanted to go through Lucy’s things without upsetting him. And I knew from Aunt Vi that Lucy had practically moved in with him before the wedding.
Betsy sat up straighter. “I can have Aunt Vi case the joint before we go over. I’m sure she could get Meemaw to create a diversion.” She tapped her chin and jumped. “Oh, I’ve got it! Meemaw has this pinhole leak under the sink in her kitchen. She’s been after him to come over and repair it for over a month now. You know how she is about paying for repairs she believes are an easy fix.”
“It’s been leaking for months?” I picked up my mug of now lukewarm coffee.
Betsy nodded. “She put a bucket underneath it.” She whipped out her cell phone and called Aunt Vi. While those two chatted, or more accurately schemed, I thought about Lucy and the Carmichaels. I couldn’t get their distraught faces out of my mind, and I wondered how they were coping. There were so many victims. So many hurt people, I wished I could help. I had to be careful too. The person behind all of this could be out to use me to hurt others. And I was beginning to feel royally pissed by the audacity of the selfish evil person who wreaked havoc on all involved.
“Okay, it’s all set. Aunt Vi is on it!” Betsy stood. “There it is again. The buzzing.”
Betsy and I went to investigate.
We followed the sound into my bedroom and to the source, my cell.
“I must have accidentally switched it to vibrate.”
“See! I knew I wasn’t hearing things. I’ve got amazin’ hearing. Superpower hearing.” She flopped down face-first on my bed. “Your mattress is so comfy, and this comforter is so soft. Maybe we should take a nap.” Betsy sniffed loudly.
I quickly handed her another tissue in attempts to avoid having to have my comforter dry-cleaned, and then checked my phone.
Whoever they were left a voice mail. Oddly though, the unknown voice mail had been recorded while I’d been in custody, according to the time stamp. I’d not noticed it. I hit the voice mail icon.
“Marygene, babe, I need your help,” Paul rasped.
A vise gripped my heart. Betsy flopped around and sat up straight on the bed, her eyes wide.
“You’re going to receive some instructions soon. Please do everything you’re asked to or they’ll kill me. Please. I love you.”
Some scuffles were audible. A combination of guilt, fear, and anger consumed me.
A robotic voice said, “He’ll die, slowly and painfully if you notify your lover-boy deputy or the authorities that we contacted you or share our instructions. Get it? No police! Go about your life as normal and don’t alert anyone or you’ll start receiving pieces of your boyfriend.”
Horrific, agonizing screams came next.
Chills ran through my body and the phone slipped from my fingers to clatter to the floor.
“Sweet Lord,” Betsy gasped and leapt to her feet.
We stared at the pink case that encompassed my iPhone, and we clutched on to each other. The little device gave me such terror, as if at any second it could reach out and strangle the life from me. Blood thrummed in my ears. My knees gave out, and I slumped down on the bed, taking Betsy with me. She pulled me closer. We just sat there. Staring.
“What should we do? We must do something. I have to call the sheriff’s department or at least Javy.”
Betsy shook her head. “They said not to contact your lover boy.”
“You think they were referring to Javier?” I gaped.
“They certainly don’t mean Alex. You know any other deputies with the Peach Cove Sheriff’s Department?”
The phone vibrated against the floor. I squeaked.
“Answer it!” Betsy shouted, and released her hold on my arm. “No, don’t!” She grabbed my arm again and jerked.
“Stop it. I have to answer it.” I went to my knees.
My trembling fingers groped to gain purchase on the rubber case. The unknown number caused tendrils of panic to swirl within my midsection as I hit the speaker icon. “He . . . hello. Paul!”
“Marygene!” Paul’s shaky voice rasped.
“Paul! My God. Are you okay? Where are you?”
“Follow the instructions . . . Please . . . A-and don’t tell a soul. I can’t t-take much more of this . . .” The line went silent.
“Wait! What instructions? Paul!”
He was gone.
I paced the floor in front of the whiteboard after I’d added the incident to the board. Bets and I had gone back and forth on the right thing to do.
“I really think I should call Javier. What if they kill Paul?”
“They’re probably planning to kill him anyway.” Betsy chewed on the nail on her index finger. “I mean, they have no reason to keep him alive. They’re already in this for murder and attempted robbery, what’s another count?”
I hated to agree with her as I rubbed my aching head. “Why would they contact me instead of the sheriff’s department? They have the authority to back everyone off. I sure don’t.”
Betsy shrugged. “Poor Paul. He’s boring as dry toast, but he did save our lives. No one deserves to die for being born a bore. Besides, you’re the closest person to him on the island and he said he loves you.”
“Yeah, I heard that.” My shoulders slumped forward. “What if they took him because of me, Bets?”
Betsy waved her hand in the air, “Maybe he was just an easy target. You think they said no cops because the detective has him?”
“I don’t know. Calhoun swears the detective’s dirty.” I began pacing again. A light bulb in my brain fired to life. “We have to think of this logically. What could they possibly be after? Easy. Money. I don’t work for the bank. I haven’t any way of releasing funds.” To borrow an expression from Sam, my brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders. I whipped around toward Betsy. “Okay, at the risk of sounding redundant, let’s go through it again.”
Betsy nodded.
“The killers wanted to frame us in the first place. Every decision they made was perfectly calculated to enact a crime that pointed to us. Lucy died in the reception tent. The poison was placed under my sink. They dumped her body on my back deck and your words were used on the abduction video. That, along with your aunt pointing the finger at you, makes you a perfect accomplice.”
“Oh, right!” Betsy clapped her hands loudly. “If they have us following some lame-ass instructions, it’ll probably be a trap. Another piece of the puzzle to frame us.”
I paused to blow my nose. “On the other hand, they must have someone watching us. Whoever they are must’ve known we were in custody and later released. And they certainly wouldn’t want me to involve the authorities.”
“Who would have that knowledge? And know about the sexual tension between you and that hunk of burnin’ Latin love. The detective, of course and . . .” Betsy pulled a tissue from the box and froze.
“Alex,” we both said in unison.
CHAPTER 25
Betsy and I fell asleep around one a.m. The drowsiness side effect of the cold medication had been a huge help, since otherwise we weren’t going to get any sleep after the phone calls. Both of us had shifts at the diner, and we did our best to work without spreading germs and acting as if everything was normal. We shared worried glances in passing. Nothing more.
My hands were dry from so many washings and my sister fussed over me like a mother hen. “I’m fine. I swear.” I dutifully sipped the hot tea with honey that she’d thrust into my hands a moment ago.
“You don’t look fine. Your eyes are peaked, just like Olivia’s.” Jena Lynn put the back of her hand to my forehead, her face drawn with concern. “Not feverish. That’s good. Still, you need to take care of yourself.”
My sister cared deeply and put me at such ease, I almost unburdened about Paul before shoving the absurd idea away. None of this touched her, and I wouldn’t do anything that would draw her in. I put on a smile. “I will, and until I’m fully recovered, I plan to keep my distance from Eddie.”
“That’s a good idea. Your immune system is probably low because of all the stress that stupid detective put you through. I have a good mind to go over to the department and bless him out. How dare he come onto our island and throw his you-know-what around as if we’re all so impressed.” Jena Lynn’s face flushed red. “Somebody should do something about his incompetence. And now that poor Eddie is down and out, he’ll probably try to take over Peach Cove.”
I shook my head and coughed in my elbow. “I don’t think so. I have a feeling he wants to be off this island at his first opportunity.” Especially if he had anything to do with the attempted robbery and abduction. Even in my thoughts it sounded crazy. Too crazy to fit.
“I sure hope you’re right.”
In hustled Jena Lynn’s sister-in-law, her face bright red and glossy. “Sorry I’m a tad late. My stupid car wouldn’t start.” She rushed toward the sink and wet a kitchen cloth. “I had my neighbor give me a jump.” She turned and leaned her tall, lean frame against the sink as she dabbed her face with the cloth. “And to make matters worse, the compressor went out on my air conditioner again.” Her small almond-shaped eyes darted from Jena Lynn to me. “I interrupted something, didn’t I?”
My sister and I both smiled. Hannah brought a great energy to our staff.
“Not at all. I was just telling my mucus-filled sister to take it easy.” Jena Lynn squeezed my hand. “Now Hannah’s here, you go have some food and cut out early. Some rest will do you good.”
“Oh, yikes. I hope you feel better, Marygene. There’s a nasty bug going around.” Hannah took a step away, and I laughed.
“I get it. Y’all don’t want my germs, and I don’t blame you. I’m going.” I left the kitchen after thanking them both. Some distance from me would be good for them in more ways than one.
Sam had also given me a wide berth today, which was wise. One of Eddie’s kids needed to be available in case Lindy required assistance. Not that she would. She had a full staff she could call on if she so chose. Eddie would be the best cared for patient on Peach Cove. I thought back to his confession that he saw Mama. I couldn’t thank her enough for sacrificing her atonement for our benefit. She really had made some changes during her time here. And I certainly could use her input in my current predicament.
Betsy and I ate together at the counter. I ordered cheesy potato soup and a salmon BLT with spicy garlic mayo. It was difficult to eat with a sore throat and swimming nerves. Knowing I needed my strength, I forced it down anyway. The more I considered things, the more I wondered about Detective Thornton and battled in disbelief with his theory Alex had something to do with all of this. Sure, Alex hadn’t been himself lately. And he’d showed his worst side toward me and everyone else since he lost Lucy. Deep down, I still didn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it. I loved him. Always would. No, we’d never be as we were; still, I hoped for our friendship to continue. I tested the temperature of my soup before spooning some into my mouth.
“It’s all set,” Betsy whispered out of the right side of her mouth. “Alex is going over to Meemaw’s at four. Aunt Vi will pick us up here at the diner in a few and drive us over to his house. She’ll stand lookout in case he or Aunt Traitor comes over.” Betsy huddled over her double-stack burger and took a huge bite. The cheese oozed out from in between the patties.
Betsy had insisted last night that her aunt Regina might be Alex’s accomplice. She’d been known in the Myers family as a gold digger. I forced myself not to argue the point that the Myers hadn’t wealth to begin with, so that didn’t make any sense at all. I got the point that Alex’s mom wasn’t and never would be popular within the family. From the day of Lucy’s death, the woman hadn’t wavered on her stance. We’d just been lucky we hadn’t seen her around lately.
“Marygene, girl.” Miss Glenda came by the counter and broke into m
y reverie. “I just can’t believe all this mess. We heard about your and Betsy’s unfortunate incarceration. Terrible, just terrible.”
I decided not to correct the old woman by reminding her we hadn’t been charged, much less incarcerated. It wouldn’t have done a bit of good.
“Thank you, ma’am. It was rough,” Betsy said, and I glared at her. She snickered a little in response.
“That’s why Sister and I always said we didn’t want no outsiders butting their noses into our island’s business. With all these new folks around, there’s no wonder we have those darn thieves too. Incompetent ones at that. Please, if they wanted to rob the island blind, they should’ve nabbed someone we cared about, not that skinny boy who was always skulking around with the dead girl. Folks round here don’t need an investigation to know you and Betsy aren’t guilty of anything. It’s ludicrous.” She grabbed a couple of sugars from the caddy in front of me and went to sit back down in her booth. I supposed the detective’s plan to allow rumors about Betsy and me being persons of interest had worked. It was a no-brainer on this island.
“That’s right,” the couple from the booth behind us agreed. “Y’all aren’t the ones responsible. My bet is on the delinquent on the motorcycle. Riding that loud machine to show off. Idiot.”
I turned around on my chair to ask if they’d seen the man again when Miss Glenda’s words sunk in. Wait a minute! “Miss Glenda. You’re saying you saw Paul and Lucy together on multiple occasions?”
She nodded. “Oh, yes. I told the detective I saw them arguing by the tulip bulbs at Harold’s Hardware a spell back. When they saw me, they hushed up real quick. It was shameful behavior, but I didn’t think anything about it because that Lucy girl always seemed to be arguing or fooling around with some man.” Her eyes narrowed, and she shook her head in a disapproving fashion before leaning in close and whispering conspiratorially, “I’m not one to speak ill of the dead, you know—however, I also saw her carrying on with the wild boy, you know, the biker fella.”
