Deadly Intentions
Page 10
As she worked her way out of Noquitt Center toward Perkins Cove, her mind turned to Steve and Gail Flint. She felt terrible for Steve but she also wondered if he wasn’t being a bit paranoid. She hadn’t seen any indication that Gail was cheating and she was pretty good at picking up on these things.
But, if she wasn’t cheating, why all the secret phone conversations and clandestine meetings?
Her chirping phone drew her attention to the passenger seat, her mind already deciding she would ignore it if it were Luke, Jake or one of her sisters calling to check up on her.
It wasn’t. It was Charlene. Jolene tensed, thinking of the jawbone she’d left with her friend—she wasn’t sure if she was ready to hear the answer. The muffin she’d just swallowed formed a lump in her throat.
“Hi, Charlene.”
“Hey, Jo. I have some news about that bone you gave me.”
“Uh huh.”
“I was able to get a dental match on it.”
“And …”
“It’s not your Mom’s.”
“What?” Jolene hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath, but now it rushed out. She didn’t know if she felt relieved or disappointed.
“It belongs to some guy named Barnes.”
“Gerald Barnes?” Images of the cabin of the old boat and then the explosion in Perkins Cove flitted through her mind. “That’s the old fisherman who’s been missing.”
“I know. I did some research,” Charlene said. “I called in a favor from a friend for the dental match so it’s all been done unofficially like you wanted. But now that I know it could help on the missing person’s case, I need to submit it through proper channels.”
“That’s okay.” Jolene said. “I appreciate you doing it on the down low.”
“No problem.” Charlene clicked off.
Jolene frowned as she tossed the phone on the seat. It wasn’t really a surprise that Barnes was dead. After all, they’d talked to his ghost. But what she couldn’t figure out was what his body was doing out in the ocean. If he’d been out fishing and fallen overboard, that would make sense. But, if that were the case, his boat would have been adrift in the ocean, not moored in his spot in the cove. Something didn’t add up.
Charlene had taken a risk getting that information on the sly and Jolene felt like she owed her. She wanted to do something to show her appreciation, but what?
Her thoughts went back to the beef dish Charlene had been cooking and then flitted to the Pampered Chef party. Maybe Charlene would appreciate something for the kitchen. She’d heard Pampered Chef had the best of the best.
And then a thought struck her like a lightning bolt.
She stomped on the brake pedal and cut the wheel to take a sharp right. Ignoring the honking horns and screeching brakes behind her, she turned onto the side road that doubled back toward the center of town.
Sure, she was supposed to be heading straight home, but she had an idea that might help prove her case and she had to act on it. And besides, what could possibly happen to her in broad daylight?
***
Morgan pulled her Toyota into a spot across from Reed Pawn and Antiques and peered through her side window into the shop.
“It looks like he doesn’t have any customers,” Fiona said as the two girls exited the car and waited for traffic to pass so they could cross the street.
“Good. The less people that see this,” Morgan pointed to the white paper bag where she carried the locket, “the better.”
Fiona nodded. The traffic broke and they sprinted across, pulling open the door and spilling into the shop.
Cal Reed stood, leaning with his palms on the display case he used as a counter in front of him, studying a book that lay open on the top of the glass. He looked up and smiled at them, his dimples and sparkling blue eyes highlighting his boyish good looks.
It was easy to see why Celeste had fallen for him. Morgan just wondered why it had taken her sister so darn long. Cal and Celeste had been best friends since grade school and Cal was almost like a brother to Morgan, Fiona and Jolene who all knew years ago that the two were perfect for each other. But, for some reason, Cal and Celeste hadn’t figured that out themselves until a couple of years ago.
“So let’s see this magic locket.” Cal held out his hand and Morgan took the locket out of the white bag, gently placing it in Cal’s palm.
Cal’s eyes widened. “Well, that certainly is unusual.” He turned it over in his palm, then held it closer to his face, studying it from every angle. Then he took a loupe out of his pocket and studied it again.
Morgan and Fiona stood patiently watching. Morgan noticed that Cal hadn’t said anything about handling the locket making his fingers tingle or getting a rush of energy. Maybe that was a one-time thing … or maybe it only happened to her and Fiona. Cal didn’t have any ‘gifts’. Maybe the locket only affected people that did.
Cal took the locket over to the book he had been reading and bent over it looking from the page to the locket and back again. He flipped to the next page and repeated the process.
Morgan stood beside him, peeking over his shoulder.
“I’d say this locket is made mostly of meteorite.” He straightened and looked at the girls.
Fiona’s brows snapped into a ‘V’. “Meteorite? Like from outer space?”
“Yep.”
“But those are just ugly rocks,” Morgan said.
“Unless you cut them and polish them same as any other rock or crystal.” Cal pointed to the locket. “See these lines—how they create a geometric pattern?”
The girls nodded.
“Look at this picture of a cut meteorite.” Cal pointed to a picture in the book, which showed a large rock that had been cut in half exposing the inside. Sure enough, the markings were strikingly similar to the locket.
“I guess it’s the same as any gemstone,” Fiona said. “When they come out of the ground, they usually don’t look that great, but once they are cut and polished you see their true beauty.”
“Sure, but the end result isn’t really that pretty,” Morgan pointed out as she looked at the dull gray locket.
“The pattern is interesting.” Cal said. “And ancient civilizations thought meteorites had special powers because they came streaking down from the sky.”
“Is the locket that old?” Fiona asked.
“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s ancient, but it could be three or four hundred years old. It’s well made. Probably cost a pretty penny.” Cal looked up at Morgan. “Did you say the lady’s phone was out of order?”
“Yep.” Morgan had tried to call her after the locket had incinerated their table, but her number had been disconnected, which was odd since she’d just filled out the form that morning.
“Maybe we can have Jolene google her or something,” Cal suggested. “I’d love to talk to her and find out more about it. It’s quite unusual.”
“You can say that again,” Fiona said.
Cal glanced out the window to make sure no one was about to come into the shop. “Did you say it shot out electricity when you tried to open it?”
Fiona and Morgan nodded solemnly. Cal knew about the girls’ special gifts and had even witnessed them in action more than once, so they weren’t afraid he’d think they were nuts. Anyone else would, though, so it was a good thing they were alone in the shop.
Cal pushed the clasp.
Morgan wasn’t surprised when it didn’t open.
He pushed harder trying to wedge his thumbnail into the opening to pry it.
Nothing.
“I wouldn’t try to force it unless you want your shop to go up in flames,” Fiona warned.
But he did try. And still nothing happened.
“I don’t see any electricity shooting out,” Cal said.
Morgan frowned at the locket. “Maybe we used it up.”
“Or maybe it only happens to people who are paranormally inclined,” Fiona suggested.
“Do your fingertips tingle when you to
uch the stone?” Morgan asked.
Cal pressed on the stone with his index finger. “No.”
“Mine did.”
“Mine, too,” Fiona chimed in. She touched the stone, then pulled her fingers back quickly as if stung. “Still do.”
Cal flipped to a page he’d marked in the book. “It says here some ancient cultures believed meteorites could amplify energy.”
“Maybe that’s what it’s doing to us,” Morgan said. “Amplifying our energy … our gifts. That’s why our fingers tingle.”
“Maybe,” Fiona said. “Now we really need to talk to Mamie Green and find out more.”
“She might not know any more. Remember she said she remembered seeing her grandmother wear it, but hadn’t seen it in years until she came across it in her grandmother’s things.”
“True, but it’s worth a try,” Fiona said. “I’m dying to find out what’s inside it, but I don’t want to force it open and break it. Or burn something down. I am supposed to be fixing it, not destroying it.”
“I’d like to know more, too.” Cal looked at the clock over the door. “But right now I have to go pick up Celeste. Maybe we can research it some more back at your place tonight. Jolene will be there to help us. She’s such a wiz on the computer.”
“That sounds good.” Morgan let him usher them toward the door. “But let’s not say anything in front of Eliza. I have a funny feeling about her, and with everything going on now I’m not sure how much we want to let her know about us.”
“So you think we can’t trust her?” Cal asked. “Maybe she shouldn’t be at your house. Do you think she could be part of the threat Luke’s been talking about?”
Morgan shrugged. “I’m not sure, but until we know more about either Eliza or the threat, the less information we give away, the better.”
***
Eliza Blackmoore stomped down the attic steps in frustration. She’d scoured all the older boxes and still didn’t find what she was looking for.
It had to be here somewhere.
She turned in a slow circle on the second floor landing. Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed her senses to ferret out the item and point her in the right direction.
She needed a sign—her nieces would be home soon and that would really put a damper on her searching activities.
“Meow!”
Eliza’s eyes flew open and zeroed in on Belladonna, who sat at the bottom of the stairs staring up at her with those ice-blue eyes.
Was this the sign she’d been asking for?
“Hey, Belladonna. Do you have a message for me?”
The cat stared at her lazily, then winked one eye.
Eliza started down the stairs and Belladonna trotted off in the direction of the kitchen. Eliza’s stomach fluttered with excitement as she followed the cat into the kitchen, but her excitement was squelched when Belladonna stopped next to her food bowl and looked from the bowl to Eliza pointedly.
“Oh, is that it? You just wanted me to feed you?”
Belladonna answered by pushing the bowl toward Eliza.
Eliza sighed and went to the cabinet where she’d seen Fiona put the cat food. Taking down the bag, she crossed to the cat bowl, poured some in and started back to return the bag.
The door to the cellar caught her eye as she turned. Her previous exploration of the cellar had been cut short when Jolene and Celeste had come home soaking wet the other day. Now was the perfect time to continue.
She quickly put the cat food back, then slipped her hand inside the door and flipped the switch that lit the low wattage bulb that provided the only source of light in the basement.
Pulling the door all the way open, she grimaced at the hinges’ squeal of protest. Good thing she was the only one home to hear it.
She started down the steps, feeling a chill as she got closer to the bottom. The damp smell of mildew tickled her nostrils. She stepped onto the packed dirt floor and turned to the left.
The cellar was empty except for a few piles of junk in the far end. She’d already searched the junk, but there was one interesting piece she hadn’t had time to play around with.
The giant wine cask sat against the wall looking totally out of place in the dank basement. It was almost six feet tall and the old convex oak boards were dark with age. Bands of copper and copper rivets still held it together as they had hundreds of years ago.
It would be more appropriate in a winery, Eliza thought, as she walked toward the ancient looking piece.
Could it be a leftover from Isaiah Blackmoore’s travels?
If so, it would have been here when Eliza lived here and she didn’t remember it. Of course, that wasn’t saying much—she hadn’t come down in the basement often, and back then it had been crammed full of stuff so the cask probably would have been invisible behind all the junk.
As she approached the cask, she felt a funny sensation like a humming inside her body. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, focusing all her attention on the object in front of her.
Summoning all her energy, she felt an irresistible pull toward the cask. She stepped closer and closer, then opened her eyes. She was staring straight at a copper rivet.
Going on gut instinct, she pressed the rivet.
A satisfying click echoed through the basement as the cask swung out from the wall.
“Well, I’ll be … I never knew this was here.”
Of course, she’d heard the rumors that Isaiah had buried a priceless treasure in a maze under the house, but she didn’t think they were actually true. She’d looked before but never been able to find the entrance. In fact, she’d never even paid any attention to the cask.
Her mother and brother must have emptied the basement out at some point. Which made her wonder who else know about the secret maze.
Did her nieces know about this?
She peered into the dark tunnel. A cold breeze touched her face and she breathed in the briny smell of salt water. If the rumors were true, the tunnel would lead to underground passages that housed the treasure. She remembered something about part of the maze being underwater, but it was worth checking out—the item she’d been searching for could be in there.
She slipped into the dark tunnel, a smile playing over her lips as she picked her way along the dark, damp passage.
***
Guilt tugged at Jolene’s gut as she drove toward the junior college. It wasn’t as if she was lying to her sisters—she was simply taking a little detour before going home. No one would be back at the house until after supper so she had a few hours before anyone even knew she wasn’t there.
That should be plenty of time to see if her hunch was right, and return safely home.
Swinging her car into the large parking lot, she drove toward the building, her heart lifting when she saw Gail’s Subaru. Hopefully she’d get the proof she needed and put this case to rest today.
She parked far away from Gail and, just in case she was wrong, grabbed her camera and headed into the building.
Jolene’s footsteps echoed on the shiny tile of the empty halls. It was almost suppertime, so the daytime classes were over and most of the evening ones had not yet started.
She navigated the halls, peering into the rooms through the rectangular glass windows. The place was like a tomb, which normally would have had her tuning up her senses so she could be aware, but right now she was too focused on her hunch to think of anything else.
She turned down a hall, her nose wrinkling at the smell. Something was burning—she must be on the right track.
A few doors down, she saw it. Flattening herself against the wall, she peeked unobtrusively into the room.
It was just as she suspected. Gail stood just inside the room, a handsome professor to the right of her next to the stove where a pot was releasing steam into the air. Gail wore a white apron and several other students stood beside her.
Gail wasn’t having an affair—she was taking cooking lessons!
Just to be sure, Jolene heigh
tened her senses to take a peek at Gail’s aura. It was bright blue, not a drop of muddy colors or hint of deception. There wasn’t any red or pink either, so Jolene had a pretty good idea that Gail didn’t have designs on her handsome teacher.
Angling herself so she could snap some shots without being seen, Jolene put the camera up to her face and got the evidence she needed.
Her task completed, she practically skipped down the hallway. She couldn’t wait to tell Steve. Today had been productive—she’d closed a case and discovered something about her mother’s death … well, assuming Barnes being at the bottom of the Atlantic actually had something to do with her mother’s death.
She slowed her pace and chewed her bottom lip, deep in thought. What was Barnes jaw doing at the bottom of the ocean? Was the rest of him there? And who had put him there and why?
Mae had said the Andrea June held the truth and Barnes certainly was keeping some kind of evidence on the boat. Plus he had that photo in his storage locker. Someone must have wanted to stop him.
Maybe the same person who knocked her out and took the photo.
But why wouldn’t they have taken the photo and gotten rid of the evidence on the boat sooner? Maybe they hadn’t known about them until Jolene started poking around and led them straight to the evidence. Or they figured since Barnes was dead there was no one to blackmail them with the evidence.
Pushing the metal bar on the door open, Jolene walked out into the perfectly sunny summer day. But she didn’t feel the warm sun or hear the chirping birds or see the three men in gray hoodies approaching from the woods—she was too deep in her thoughts. Thoughts of Barnes and what he knew about her mother, whose death was now looking less and less like suicide.
When her senses kicked in, it was too late. The men were upon her.
She felt the odd draining feeling similar to the other day and whirled around, pushing out her palms in a thrust of energy.
Her stomach sank. Panic spread through her as she watched the energy dribble uselessly to the ground just before her legs gave out on her.