“Who?” Cora said, taking the identification he handed her. It seemed official, but what did she know?
But if Adrian was with him, and Adrian had written the note, there was the possibility this guy was legit. “Thanks,” she said, and handed it back to him.
She followed him down the hallway and, when he opened the last door, there stood Adrian, calm, cool, and collected, quite like the school librarian he was. She wanted to strangle him—but only after she hugged him.
She fell into his arms.
“What’s going on?” she managed to say after what seemed like an eternal hug. She wanted answers.
“You better sit down,” Adrian said. “It’s quite a story. And it’s not over yet.”
“Why are you here? We’ve been searching for you everywhere!”
“He’s here for his own protection,” Tom said, motioning for her to take a seat.
Cora felt her jaw stiffen. She still didn’t like Tom, no matter if he was an FBI agent or a circus clown.
“Protection from whom?” Cora said as she sat down.
“I’ve stepped into a bit of a quagmire, Cora,” Adrian said.
“Yeah, well, I realize you set yourself up for them to investigate you as a murder suspect with all your texting,” she said.
“If that was the only issue, I’d be okay,” he said. “I didn’t kill Marcy and I believe in the justice system enough to think my innocence will save me.”
Cora blinked. She believed the same thing. Was it too optimistic? She’d seen it fail time and again. But for the most part, the way the system worked benefited everybody.
“I know you didn’t kill her,” she said. “Everybody knows that.”
“Both Marcy and Zooey were being blackmailed,” Tom said.
“We’ve figured out that Zooey killed Marcy,” Cora said. “We saw her on the security tapes; she was spying on Cashel as he did his research.”
“She didn’t kill Marcy,” Adrian said. “I can see how you might think that, though.”
“We’re getting close to solving this case. We’re watching the police and the retreat carefully, but something has gone wrong,” Tom said. And for the first time the superslick-looking Tom gave a human impression. “There’s a major drug operation here on the island.”
“Does it operate out of the Drunken Mermaid?” Cora asked.
“I guess you could say a part of it does,” Tom said. “But it has long tentacles throughout the island and parts of the mainland,” he said, then paused. “We’re talking about a major crime syndicate. We’ve gathered enough information to realize Adrian was in trouble. So we took him in.”
“Why Adrian?” Cora asked.
“He’s gotten a bit too close to everything. And as a murder suspect who is trying to fight these charges, he’s drawn a lot of attention to himself, the island, and the law enforcement here,” he said with a level tone.
“The law enforcement?” Cora said weakly. Jane had gone back into the situation room. Cashel was there. Ruby was there. And maybe Mathilde.
“We’re not sure how deep the corruption goes,” Tom said. “But at least two detectives have strong ties to the drug lords we’re honing in on. In fact, one might be in charge of the ring.”
“Drug lords? On this island?” Cora said.
He frowned. “They are everywhere, unfortunately.”
“Good God,” Cora said.
“Marcy had quite the habit. It was one of the things that tore us apart,” Adrian said. “I couldn’t stand it. When you’re young and experimenting, it’s one thing. But it became a huge part of her adult life.”
Cora mulled the information over. “What about her new husband?”
“He was right there with her. Quite the user,” Adrian said.
It made sense, thought Cora, thinking of Josh’s vacant stare.
“But you said Marcy and Zooey were being blackmailed,” Cora said.
Tom nodded. “Both of them invested in the proposed resort, even though the rest of Marcy’s family was against it. One of the locals didn’t like it. Someone who was aware of their expensive drug habits. They were paying this person to keep his or her mouth shut. Zooey and Marcy decided to stop paying.”
A chill swept over Cora. Their murders were professionally committed.
“And I was the perfect dupe,” Adrian said. “I still am, evidently.”
“You weren’t Zooey’s real assistant,” Cora said to Tom.
“No. I’m undercover,” he said. “She knew what I was doing. She was pleased about it. Marcy had been killed and Zooey was so scared she was next.” He looked off into the distance. “After this retreat, she planned to get clean. She planned to go to a rehab facility.” He gulped. “I was supposed to be protecting her. . . .”
“Oh,” Cora said. And he now was protecting Adrian. She wasn’t sure she liked this. Not at all. Her eyes met Adrian’s. Was he thinking the same thoughts?
“So now what?” Cora asked.
“Now, we’re hoping you can help,” Tom said.
“Me?”
“Adrian says you’ve got a bit of experience,” Tom said.
“Not much. I—”
“All we need you to do is wear a wire for us and go about your search for Adrian,” he said. “You need to pretend you don’t know Adrian is safe.”
“Why?” Cora said. “I don’t understand.”
“Because the investigation going on downstairs may lead us to the killers of Marcy and Zooey.”
“But you said they were professional killings.”
“Exactly. How many professional killers could be here? Professional killers who are not trained police officers?”
Cora’s heart ached. Most police were such great guys—but every once in a while a good cop went bad. She sucked in air and glanced at Adrian, who nodded slightly.
“I’ll do anything I can to help,” she said, ignoring the beads of sweat forming on her forehead.
Chapter 53
When Cora entered the situation room, she was surprised to see how the groups of people clustered together. A group of three men were on their laptops. Another group of five were at a table. A third group—some police, but mostly her people—were at yet another table. Ruby’s, Jane’s, and Mathilde’s hands were moving in rhythm. They were knitting. Knitting?
She approached the table, with her handy listening device in her purse. To an innocent bystander, the device looked like a cell phone. But it transmitted to the room where Adrian and Tom were listening.
“Cora!” Jane said. “What did Tom want?”
Cora’s mouth dropped. Right away, she was flummoxed. What did Tom want? What should she say?
“Um. You know, he had some questions about our retreat. He had heard about it and wondered about working for us,” Cora said. Brilliant, she thought.
“He seems like a nice enough guy,” Mathilde said. “But he’s not much of a crafter. I think Zooey hired him for other reasons. You know, he was organized, an expert at the computer. She didn’t want to have to deal with any of that stuff.”
“Who does, right?” Jane said, and smiled.
“You’re knitting?” Cora said, as she sat down next to Jane.
“Sure, I’ve been learning,” she said. “It does have a meditative effect.”
“So I hear,” Cora said, eyeing her best friend. The two of them used to poke fun at the knitters—good-naturedly, of course. Knitters always knit. They always found each other, sat together, and barely spoke to one another, but seemed to prefer it.
Cora had mulled over the many studies done on the therapeutic effects of knitting. Cora respected knitters now. But when she was younger, she didn’t understand.
She had read about how the rhythmic, repetitive movements of knitting or crocheting kept people focused on the present by distracting them from thinking about past events or feeling fearful about the future. The therapeutic nature of knitting actually helped to bring down blood pressure, heart rate, and prevent anxiety
-related illnesses.
Cora had tried to pick up knitting and couldn’t seem to catch the knack. But she found embroidering helped lift her mood.
“So, is there any news?” Cora said.
“The police sent a crew to the Drunken Mermaid,” Ruby said, looking at Cora over her glasses, which were perched on the end of her nose. “We’re waiting to hear if they find anything there.”
“Is that all they are doing?” Cora said.
One officer who was sitting at their table focused his attention toward them. “We’re still searching the island,” he said. “But for now the efforts are focused on the Drunken Mermaid.”
“Isn’t that the place our cabbie mentioned has a drug problem?” Cora said casually to Jane. Maybe too casually. She was not a good enough actress.
Jane cocked an eyebrow. “Um, yeah,” she said, with a note of sarcasm, as if underneath she were saying, “You knew that, c’mon.”
“It’s had some problems, but believe me, there are other places on this island with similar issues,” the officer said, and went back to his coffee.
“It’s such a small island,” Cora said. “What other places are there?”
“Well, here, for one,” he said. “The place you’re sitting. This resort brings a lot of money to the island, both kinds of money, if you know what I mean.”
“Now, now, it’s not that bad. You’re giving them a bad impression,” Mathilde chided.
He cocked his head in deference. “Whatever,” he said.
“You want some coffee?” Ruby asked Cora.
“Nah, I better not,” Cora said. She tapped her fingers on the table. “I’m a bit wound up. I don’t need caffeine.”
“A confession?” an officer on his cell phone said loudly from the group huddled over their computers.
They all turned toward him. “He confessed? I’m shocked!” the officer exclaimed.
“Who?” Ruby asked what everybody was thinking.
He held up his finger, trying to listen on the cell phone while the others were flinging questions at him.
The room silenced, and then he said: “Josh Dupres? I can’t believe it.”
Cora’s heart skipped a beat. She believed it. Josh gave her the chills. Even if he didn’t kill his wife, he could have certainly killed Zooey, if he thought Zooey had killed Marcy.
“Both murders?” the officer said.
“He’s confessed to both murders,” Cora said. “His wife and Zooey. Incredible!”
The officer who was sitting at the table slammed his hand down. “You’re damn right it is. I’ve known Josh Dupres my whole life. I don’t think he’s capable of killing.”
“But he confessed!” Ruby said.
He stood up. “There’s all kinds of reasons people confess. Many times it has nothing to do with guilt.”
Ruby harrumphed.
“I don’t understand at all,” Jane said.
“What reason would he have to confess to murder if he didn’t do it?” Ruby said, placing her knitting into the bag. “I’m hungry. I need something to eat.”
Cora pondered the reasons Josh might confess even if he was innocent. Was he stoned out of his mind? Scared? Was he being blackmailed, too? Or was he protecting someone else?
“Well, as far as I’m concerned the murder case is solved,” the detective said as he ambled up to their table. “Why don’t you all move along with Ruby here and find food while we try to clarify what our boy knows about Adrian.”
Cora considered her position. Adrian was safe upstairs, but this cop didn’t know she was aware of it. He himself didn’t know Adrian’s whereabouts. “I’m staying until there’s word about Adrian,” she said, and gave him the most charming smile she could muster. “I hope you don’t mind.”
Chapter 54
“Any word yet on Brisbane?” a cop said from across the room. It had been at least an hour of sitting, waiting, watching others knit, click on their keyboards, and drink coffee.
Cora didn’t know if Tom and Adrian had gotten what they needed yet. She simply had no way of knowing.
“No word,” another replied.
“What? The police know nothing about where Adrian is? I find that hard to believe,” Ruby said.
“Calm down, Mother,” Cashel replied. “Let the officers do their work.” He’d just joined them and seemed to have regained his health.
“Josh is our best hope of finding him,” Jane said.
“Josh has confessed. Why hasn’t he told us where Adrian is?” Cora said.
“I don’t know,” the officer said.
“Are you still searching for Adrian?” Ruby said.
“Yes, of course,” the officer said.
“Such a small island. I’d think you’d have found him by now,” Cora said, realizing she was pushing it. But she felt compelled.
“It’s a small island, yes,” the officer said. “But there’s forest, caves, beaches, plus homes and businesses. He could be anywhere.”
“Maybe he’s not here anymore,” Cora said. “Maybe he’s off the island.”
“We’ve alerted the coast guard and authorities on the mainland,” another officer said. He glared at Cora. “We told you that already.”
“Yes,” Cora said. “That’s right. I’m sorry. It’s so difficult. Not knowing where he is. If he’s okay. I’m just not thinking clearly.”
Jane reached for her hand. “I’m certain he’s okay. He’ll be fine.”
Cashel frowned. “You know, I like him. I hope he’s okay.”
“You say that as if it surprises you,” Cora said.
He eyeballed her pointedly. “It does.”
Cora lurched back and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you ever had against him. He’s a great guy.”
But the truth was staring right at Cora in the way Cashel gazed at her. Jane had been right. Cashel had feelings for her. Why hadn’t she seen it before?
She was sorry about that. She didn’t reciprocate his feelings at all. Sure, he was handsome and had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. But he was a pain in the ass. When she first met him, she did feel a spark of attraction, but nipped it in the bud because of her business relationship with his mother—and as she grew to know him and his mother, the small spark of attraction vanished.
She was certain she’d done nothing to lead him on. She glanced around the room, not quite knowing where to fix her gaze.
Jane sat her knitting down. “I can’t sit here anymore. I need to eat. And I’d like to call London.”
“I’m not leaving until they find Adrian,” Cora said.
“Yes, you are,” Jane said, standing, hands on her hips. “I don’t think you’ve eaten since breakfast.”
“Okay,” Cora said. “You’re right. I better eat.” She turned to the detective who seemed to be in charge. “Please inform us the minute you know something.”
He nodded. “Either I will or your lawyer will.”
Cora reached for her bag and slid it over her shoulder. A wave of weariness overcame her. She knew Adrian was safe, but what she wasn’t aware of was if Tom had gotten enough information to make a bust. She was still nervous and wondering if she’d done her part—had she done enough to help?
As she and Jane made their way to the eatery, Cora couldn’t believe she was keeping secrets from her best friend. As she approached the place, she told herself that there was no way to tell Jane until it was over. She was so grateful Adrian was okay. She wanted to tell Jane, but she swore she wouldn’t—and of course the FBI was listening to her every word.
Cora felt someone watching her as she and Jane slipped into their booth at the restaurant. She kept her eyes focused on the menu for a moment, blinked, and took in the scene.
Hank. Hank was sitting right next to them. He waved weakly and winked. She smiled and waved back.
He kept turning up everywhere—like a bad penny.
Jane smiled and waved.
“Poor guy,” she said, with a lowered voice. “He ne
eds to find a job, I imagine. I wouldn’t want to be looking for work now. It’s tough out there.”
His back was to them, and it stayed toward them as he left his table.
“He’s going to be okay,” Cora said. “Remember? He has a severance package. He lives on the resort. He’s not paying for it. Besides, he’ll find something.”
“I hope so. I wish him the best,” Jane said.
The server came up to them and took their orders.
Once she’d left, Cora said, “It’s been quite a day.”
“Yep,” Jane replied. “It ain’t over yet.”
Once again, Cora wanted to tell her about Adrian. He was hidden upstairs with an FBI agent and they were listening to all her conversations. But of course she couldn’t. Her friends were going to be furious with her when they found out. But there was nothing she could do about it now. Nothing at all.
As she looked away from Jane sitting across the table from her and glanced out the window on the beach, she noticed Hank walking next to Rue.
“Well, look at that,” she said to Jane. “Hank and Rue walking together along the beach. How strange.”
“I’d say very strange,” Jane said, as the server brought their food. “But right now I’m all about this plate of spaghetti. Bring on the carbs and the wine, please.”
Cora laughed. “I hear you.”
After dinner and one bottle of wine, both Cora and Jane were feeling much better.
“You know what’s weird about seeing Rue and Hank?” Cora said.
“I don’t want to even imagine those two together,” Jane said. Her eyelids were drooping.
“Well, yeah,” Cora said. “If my son were being questioned at the police station, I think I’d be there and not walking along the beach with someone.”
Chapter 55
Cora made her way back to the situation room, while Jane headed for her own room. Jane wanted to turn in for the night, so Cora was on her own. Well, on her own with Cashel, Ruby, and Mathilde, along with the crew of local police and detectives. Not to mention whoever was listening on the other end of the device.
“Any news?” she said as she approached a group of detectives.
Macramé Murder Page 21
