“Jolene!” Fiona yelled eliciting a startled look from the teen who swiveled her head in Fiona’s direction, then reached up to pull out an ear bud.
“Oh. Hi. Sorry, didn’t see you there.” Jolene shrugged an apology then shifted her gaze between her two sisters. “Wassup?”
“It’s about Morgan.” Fiona saw Jolene’s eyes grow wide. The ice-blue color looked startling against her pale face and chocolate brown hair. Fiona marveled at how all four of the sisters had the same color eyes — a family trait shared by many Blackmoore women — but all had different hair and coloring.
“What? Did something happen to her?” Jolene swiveled her head between the two sisters.
“Sort of,” Fiona said. Then she repeated the story of Morgan’s arrest while Jolene listened intently, her frown growing deeper and deeper.
“They’re keeping her in jail? That Overton is really a jerk.”
Normally Fiona would have told her not to say bad things about others, but this time she couldn’t really argue, he was a jerk.
“Don’t worry. We’re getting her out this afternoon. I want to hire Delphine Jones to represent Morgan, but she needs a $5000 retainer just to take the case.”
Celeste gasped. “Where are we going to get five grand?”
“That’s where this comes in.” Fiona held the necklace up, dangling it from her fingers.
Jolene raised her eyebrows. “Where’d you get that?”
“In the attic.”
Fiona saw Jolene shudder. “Mom always told me the most horrid ghost stories of the attic, I was always afraid to go up there.”
Fiona felt her heart ache at the mention of her mother. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes as she remembered the colorful stories of their ancestors including tales of pirates, witches and ghostly hauntings that their mother had loved to tell. Fiona knew they were all mostly “made-up” but, as a child, she had listened to each one with rapt attention.
“So, you want to sell it?” Celeste interrupted her thoughts.
“No, not sell it. Pawn it,” Fiona said. “We can take it down to Cal Reed and see if he’ll take it in exchange for the money we need. We know the charges against Morgan will never stick. She didn’t do it. So we won’t need to spend the whole five grand with Delphine. Once Morgan is cleared, we can get the rest of our deposit back, scrape up whatever we need to top it off to five thousand, and collect the necklace from Cal.”
“That’s a great idea. We know we can trust Cal,” Celeste said.
Calvin Reed had been a classmate of Fiona’s and good friends with all the Blackmoore girls since they were kids. He was practically like a brother to them. Fiona had no doubt he would take good care of their necklace in his pawn shop. It was the best way she could think of to raise the money and still have a chance of keeping the necklace in the family.
“So, are we in agreement to do this?” Fiona asked.
“Yes!”
“Of course!”
“Great.” Fiona put her fisted hand out toward the other girls, her knuckles facing them and the three did a knuckle tap.
“If you need to come up with more money, I have a little socked away from my job,” Jolene said. Having recently graduated, she’d taken a job at one of the local restaurants, Barnacle Bill’s, until she decided what she wanted to do with her life.
Fiona felt her heart melt at the offer. A year ago, it seemed like Jolene could have cared less what happened to any of them. She was distant and moody, spending most of her time in her room or arguing with them. But she really seemed to be coming around. Fiona wondered if this was how a parent felt when they realized their little child was finally growing up.
“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Fiona said. “Now let’s get a move on. We still have to meet with Delphine and go over to Cal’s. I don’t want Morgan rotting in jail any longer than she has to.”
Chapter Six
“I’m going to give Overton a piece of my mind,” sputtered Delphine Jones as she climbed out of her late model Toyota. “What he’s doing is barely legal.”
Fiona leaned against Celeste’s Volkswagen which was parked next to Delphine’s and studied the petite attorney. She wore a casual outfit consisting of an ankle length skirt in a rainbow of colors, an orange tee-shirt and a yellow blazer. Somehow the outfit worked on her and complimented her dark skin and cropped hair.
Fiona knew she had made the right decision in hiring Delphine, even though she was a bit unconventional. The attorney was a whirlwind of energy. She didn’t waste any time, got things done quickly and, most importantly, she believed that Morgan was innocent.
“Shall we?” Fiona nodded her head toward the police station and Delphine started walking. Fiona, Celeste and Jolene followed.
“I’ll go up and deal with Overton,” Delphine said, “You can go visit your sister.” Delphine looked at her watch. “She should be released within fifteen minutes. After that, I gotta run, so I’ll get back in touch with you if I hear anything new. It’s really just a waiting game after this. Overton has to come up with something concrete that ties Morgan to the murder scene before he can start to prosecute. Right now he’s got nothing.”
Fiona opened the police station door and motioned for Delphine to go in. The feisty attorney stormed up to the desk.
“I need to see Sheriff Overton, pronto,” she barked at the desk clerk.
The clerk, a short, round woman whose head barely reached the top of the counter looked around nervously. “He’s busy now.”
Delphine slapped her hand on the counter. “I don’t care what he’s doing. You tell him if he doesn’t talk to me now, the next time he sees me it will be on opposite sides of a wrongful arrest suit!”
The clerk’s eyes went wide and she got up from her chair. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And make sure somebody takes these girls down to see my client, Morgan Blackmoore.” Delphine yelled after her, leaning over the counter.
Delphine turned and winked at Fiona as a uniformed officer came out from the back.
“This way, ladies,” he gestured for them to file through the door he held open.
The girls were unusually silent as they followed the officer down a manila tiled corridor to a steel door that opened to reveal a set of concrete stairs.
They filed down the stairs, the echoe’s of their footsteps sounding hollow, the musty smell getting stronger with each step. Fiona’s heart lurched in her chest, thinking of poor Morgan in her barren, uncomfortable jail cell enduring this pungent mildew smell, and god only knew what else.
They trudged down a long corridor, toward a door made of metal bars which the officer pressed a button on the wall to open. He held it for the three girls. Fiona turned and her heart skipped when she noticed the looks on her sister’s faces mirrored her own apprehensive feelings.
The room had three cells. The officer stopped in front of the last one and Fiona willed her feet to follow him. An iron fist squeezed her chest, she could barely breathe picturing what she would see when she looked in the cell—Morgan depressed and crying, curled on the cot all alone.
Then she heard a trill of laughter. Morgan’s laughter. Her brow furrowed and she increased her pace.
“You have visitors, Morgan,” The officer said into the cell and then stepped back to make room for Fiona, Celeste and Jolene to crowd around the front.
Fiona’s mouth dropped open when she saw what was really going on in the cell. Morgan sat on the small bed, across from her in a chair sat Jake Cooper, a folding table in between them held what looked like the remnants of a pot roast meal complete with mashed potatoes and vegetables.
Morgan’s face broke into a smile when she saw her sisters “Hey, you guys didn’t have to all come down here.” She got up and walked over to the bars.
“Morgan, what are you doing?” Fiona’s eyes narrowed and she tilted her head toward the table of food and Jake.
Morgan looked back over her shoulder. “Oh, Jake just brought me supper, wasn�
�t that nice of him?”
Fiona screwed up her face and scrutinized Jake as Morgan greeted her other sisters. What was he up to?
“I hope you didn’t tell him anything.” Fiona whispered to Morgan.
“Like what?” Morgan shrugged. “I don’t have anything to tell.”
In the background, Fiona could see Jake picking up what was left of their dinner. He stood and came toward them.
“Are these your sisters?” He asked.
“Yep, this is Celeste, Jolene and you already know Fiona, I think.” Jake nodded to Fiona and shook hands with the others.
“Well, I think we can open the door and let them in to visit,” he said nodding to the officer still standing behind them.
The door slid open and the girls rushed in to hug Morgan while Jake stepped out of the cell. Just then another officer appeared.
“Overton says to release her,” he said to Jake.
“Well, looks like you’re free to go.” Jake nodded at Morgan, then stepped back to let the women procede him up the corridor.
“I can go? You mean I’m cleared?” Morgan asked.
“No, you’re still a suspect,” the officer answered. “We just don’t have enough to hold you.”
“Oh.” Morgan’s face fell a little, but then she smiled. “Well, I know I’ll be cleared soon enough so it’s just as good.”
They filed out, Morgan first and Fiona bringing up the rear. Jake stepped in line behind them. They retraced their steps up the corridor, up the stairs, then stopped at the desk to collect an envelope of Morgan’s personal effects.
Fiona felt her heart swell at the look of joy on Morgan’s face as they headed out the door that Jake held open for them. She cleared the doorway and Jake fell in behind her. She ignored the flip-flop of her stomach when he put his hand on the small of her back, attributing it to all the excitement and lack of dinner.
“Now, I expect you girls won’t do anything silly,” he said looking pointedly at Fiona.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Like what?”
“Oh, you know, go poking around trying to figure out who the killer is?”
Fiona felt anger rising. Who was he to tell them what to do?
“Well, since the police seem hell bent on prosecuting my sister for it, I don’t see we have much choice.”
Jake looked down at the pavement and pushed a pebble around with his shoe. When he looked back up, Fiona’s heart lurched at something she saw in his eyes. Concern? Fear? She wasn’t sure which, but his next words chilled her.
“Look, I think we might be dealing with someone very dangerous here. You girls should stay out of it. Let the police handle it.”
Fiona snickered, but Morgan cut her off before she could say anything.
“Of course we will, won’t we Fi?” Fiona noticed the way Morgan raised her eyebrow at her and took that as a warning to keep quiet.
“Sure.” She managed to choke the words out.
“Good, then I’ll wish you good luck and send you on your way.” He nodded at them, turned and strode back into the police station.
Fiona stared at his retreating back. She had no intention of following his orders, especially when it seemed like the police were content to pin the murder on Morgan. She didn’t feel confident that they would conduct a thorough investigation to find the real killer. For all she knew the dangerous person she needed to be afraid of was Jake Cooper, himself.
Chapter Seven
Morgan curled her feet under her in the oversized chair and took a sip of chamomile tea. Reaching down, she stroked the silky fur of Belladonna who lay on her lap contentedly purring. It felt good to be home.
Morgan felt safe here in her favorite room with her sisters. It wasn’t the largest one in their twenty four room home, but it was the most comfortable. Decorated in grays and blues, Morgan could see her mother’s touch everywhere; from the overstuffed white furniture, to the giant starfish and seashells on the mantle, to the chipped paint coffee table. The room sat on the east side of the house and the large bay window offered an unobstructed view of the Atlantic Ocean a mere two hundred feet away.
“I feel awful that you guys had to pawn that necklace … I didn’t even know there was stuff like that up there,” Morgan said, glancing upwards toward the attic.
“We didn’t have much choice. It didn’t look like they were going to let you out,” Fiona said. “Unless you were planning on charming Jake Cooper into springing you.”
Morgan laughed, “Hardly.” Then she narrowed her eyes at Fiona “He’s not the enemy, you know.”
Fiona snorted. “He’s the one that cuffed you and put you in the back of the police car!”
“Only because he was ordered to.”
Fiona glared at Morgan. “Think what you want, but I’m warning you, you’d better watch out around him. I sense that he’s trouble.”
Morgan cocked an eyebrow at her sister, wondering why Fiona was protesting so much about Jake. She didn’t think Jake was trouble. She thought Jake could be a valuable ally. And he seemed like a perfect match for Fiona. Morgan could practically see the sparks fly between them. She was certain Jake felt the same way … she’d noticed how his gaze lingered on Fiona at the jail. If only Fiona would just wake up and notice it herself. Maybe she would have to give her a special herbal tea to help things along.
“I didn’t want to take the necklace,” Cal said coming in from the kitchen with two glasses full of green juice. “I could just lend you guys the money.”
Morgan watched Cal hand Celeste one of the glasses and then sit next to her on the couch. He’d been sitting on their front porch when they returned home, worried about her. Cal was the closest thing they had to a brother and she would never risk their relationship by borrowing money from him.
“Don’t be silly, we would never take advantage of you like that,” Fiona said, echoing Morgan’s thoughts.
Cal made a face. “Oh for crying out loud, I have the money. Besides, that necklace is a family heirloom, and a nice one at that. You girls should really get up in the attic and see what else is there.”
“What kind of stuff was up there, Fi?” Morgan asked.
“Just a bunch of old junk, furniture, dishes, boxes packed full of god knows what.” Fiona furrowed her brow. “There was one interesting thing, though.”
Celeste and Cal both raised their eyebrows.
“What?” they said at the same time, then fell back on the couch laughing and punched each other lightly in the arm.
“It was an old book. It looked ancient, but I couldn’t find any date; a handwritten journal of some sort.”
“What did it say?”
“I don’t know, I couldn’t make out the writing and I didn’t have much time to study it.”
“Maybe we should go up there and look around.” Morgan said. Belladonna let out a loud meow and hopped down from her lap. Morgan watched her walk toward the kitchen, tail swishing high in the air.
Just as the cat reached the kitchen doorway, she turned and looked right at Morgan as if to say “Come on. What are you waiting for?” Morgan laughed to herself at her own overactive imagination. The cat wasn’t trying to communicate with her. That was ridiculous … wasn’t it?
Jolene’s eyes went wide. “I don’t think we should, Mom told us not to.”
Mom didn’t know we’d be scrambling to come up with tax money or trying to avoid getting charged with murder.
Cal leaned back on the couch, stretching out his long legs. “Well, it’s up to you guys, but if you need my help in figuring out what anything is worth, let me know.”
Morgan studied Cal from the other side of the room. She knew his intent was honest, he really did want to help and he did have a lot of knowledge about antiques since he’d been running his family pawn shop for almost a decade. She knew they could trust him and she filed the information away for later in case they got desperate for money.
Cal was about the nicest guy she knew. Tall, dark and han
dsome, he was also the most eligible bachelor in town. It was rumored that women pawned jewelry at his shop just to talk to him, hoping for a date. Morgan didn’t know how true that was, but he sure would be a good catch for the right women. Morgan herself might have been interested, but there was only one man she would ever love and he’d left town … and her … years ago.
“Okay, so what do we do now?” Celeste interrupted Morgan’s thoughts.
“About what?” Jolene asked.
“We have to do something to help prove Morgan didn’t kill Prudence Littlefield.”
“I don’t know how much we really need to do. Don’t you guys think the police will find the real killer?” Morgan asked.
“Pffft.” Fiona waved her hand in the air. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not going to sit back while the police bumble their way through an investigation. There’s a killer out there and I don’t care what Jake Copper says, I’m going to find out who it is.”
She glanced around the room piercing each of them with her steely blue gaze.
“Now, who’s with me?”
Chapter Eight
Fiona woke up the next morning in a tangle of sheets. The questions running around in her head had kept her awake all night. Who could have killed Prudence? Why? What should they do to find the killer?
She swung her legs over the bed and looked out the window. Squinting, she brought her hand up to shade her eyes from the glare of the morning sun reflecting off the water. It was just shortly after sunrise and looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. But somehow, Fiona wasn’t enthusiastic about getting out of bed.
Coffee … she needed coffee.
She stood up and stretched, wincing at the cracking sound coming from her back. Throwing a sweatshirt on over the tee-shirt and sweatpants she wore to bed, she wrapped her long red curls in a ponytail and headed down to the kitchen.
The front stairs creaked as she walked down them, echoing eerily throughout the silent house. Was everyone else still asleep?
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