“Sorry, still learning.” Looking up at him, I smirked.
“Feels just fine to me. I’d like to take you to dinner,” he said.
I smiled widely, still wrapped in his arms. “You can take me anywhere you want as long as it doesn’t involve going in the water.”
Teague laughed. “Deal.”
A few minutes later, Teague pulled the boat up to a small dock at a cape-side restaurant called The Watermark. The building looked like a converted country house. The lawn was littered with picnic tables, covered in vinyl-checked tablecloths and lit with citronella candles. Teague gave me a quick tutorial on tying up the boat, and helped me ashore.
Teague ordered cheeseburgers, fries, and beers. We sat at one of the picnic tables under an enormous oak tree with outstretched branches, and a knotted trunk. Willie rested at our feet, waiting for scraps. Two kids played at the water’s edge, dumping buckets full of water on each other.
“I want a big family,” Teague said, watching the kids play, “I always wanted a brother or sister.”
“Me, too. I always thought that if I had a sibling, my mom might divide her attention, and I’d have a much happier existence. That’s why I loved spending summers here.”
“Aunt Bev couldn’t have kids,” Teague revealed, “though she and Uncle Ken wanted them. God gave her me instead.”
“How did they come to have you?”
Teague shifted in his seat and wiped his hands on his napkin. “Um, my real folks were addicts.” He said it as matter-of-factly as he could, but his eyes dropped and brows crinkled like a sharp pain had ripped through him. “We lived out of a hideous green minivan that barely ran. We were nomads. My mom told me we were like Scooby-Doo and the gang in the Mystery Machine. I thought that was pretty cool, until I realized that the only mystery we ever solved was where the next score would come from.”
Teague shook his head and took a swig of beer. My eyes squinted together trying to imagine what that kind of life was like.
He went on, “Every so often, we’d drop in on Aunt Bev and Uncle Ken. Ken was my father’s brother. Bev and Ken tried over and over to get them help, but it didn’t do any good. My folks would stay a few days, hit them up for money, overstay their welcome, and then be off again. Finally, when I was eight years old, Uncle Ken offered them $15,000, which was all he could raise, to leave me with them. They took the deal.”
I couldn’t stop my mouth from dropping open. I closed it shut, and shook my head. “How could your parents do that?”
“They weren’t my parents anymore,” Teague replied. “My parents died the second they became addicts. I was living with corpses.”
“What happened to them?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Don’t know. Never heard from them again.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” he said, with a gentle smile. “I ended up much better off. Aunt Bev and Uncle Ken were – are – the best parents a guy could hope for. It was the right thing.”
“Is that why you became a cop?”
“No, that was a last minute decision,” he returned. “I thought I’d be a career soldier. I liked the army, but it wasn’t a lifestyle I could keep up. Went to Iraq, Afghanistan, spent most of four years overseas. Uncle Ken died when I was on my last tour, working in the garage one minute, gone the next. Heart attack. I needed to come back home. So, I spent my next two years at Fort Bragg, got out of the army, and then went to the police academy.” He stopped to feed Willie the last bite of his burger.
“I worked in Nags Head for a while and you know what happened there,” he continued, “and then I just came home.”
“That’s it?” I asked. He shrugged, and nodded. I smiled. I knew there were chunks he’d left out. I decided to leave the chunks alone, for now. I opted for no wake.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Lingering
We lingered by the sea at our checkered picnic table long after our burger baskets were empty and our beers dry. We talked and laughed, and it was easy. Teague refreshed our beers, and instead of sitting across from me, he straddled the picnic table on my side, back to the water.
“My uphill battle has ended in a mudslide, Sam. I’ve done all I can to keep my past from catching up with me,” I went on, “and it’s about to run me over. What time is it?”
Confused, he looked at his watch. “6:04.”
I took a deep breath. “Maybe until Saturday,” I informed hopefully. “Lewis knows about my violent episode by now. He’s probably looking for me. Clark will publish the story, and then the whole town will add child abuser to my list of talents, even though Tyler Kettering was hardly a child.”
“What happened exactly?” he asked.
“I just snapped,” I answered, and took a long swig of beer. “Tyler was one of a group of kids I accused of cheating, which is another long story,” I said in one breath, “but, let’s just say that Tyler wasn’t too happy with me. He cornered me after school one day, got in my face. Yelling and cursing. I got up to leave, but he blocked me. I’ve never seen anyone that angry before. My defenses kicked in. It just happened.”
“Bastard deserved it,” Teague said, “just like I thought.”
“No, I should’ve been smarter,” I replied. “Next day, he sported this enormous bruise. I didn’t think I’d hit him that hard-”
“You’re tougher than you realize,” Teague chimed in.
“With punches maybe. Not much else. I couldn’t outrun my past, and maybe I shouldn’t. But, I have some information about Darryl.” I pulled out my notebook.
“What’s this?”
“This is order and method,” I replied. “You have to approach this case by first deciding which is most important – victim or location. The ‘go home’ message makes it seem like the place is the important thing, that he was killed because of me. But, I think this is ridiculous because if it were truly about me, the killer just would’ve killed me.”
“Unless the killer couldn’t kill you,” Teague argued.
“Well, there have been plenty of opportunities, so that’s not the issue,” I countered.
“Maybe the issue is that you’re family,” Teague suggested.
“For argument’s sake, I suppose you could imagine that it’s one of my family members. Killing one of their own would put a damper on our weekly dinners. They do have motive. But, you have to look at the other facts, too.”
“I’m listening.”
“Well, if Darryl was killed because of me and Beach Read, then you’d expect that all of the incidents would be connected to the killing,” I reasoned, “especially since the message ‘go home’ was written on the articles prior to the death.”
“Okay, I see what you’re saying.”
“The snake prank was definitely done by Freddy Weaver,” I told Teague, “and I know that Charlotte organized it.” I went on to explain how I came to discover Charlotte’s identity.
“If Aunt Charlotte did one, then she and Clara must’ve done all three,” I continued. “Besides, only family, you, and Henry Bellows knew that I’d be opening Sunday at noon. It’s not a coincidence that the windows were broken early that morning.”
Teague’s eyes widened. “That’s right! I was at the table when you told them.”
“Right. The second thing – the articles – well, my aunts have the easiest access. The generic articles could have been posted by any number of Top to Bottom followers, but the personal article told me that it had to be family. My Aunt Clara has regular conversations with my mom. I bet it wasn’t too hard for her to dig up some dirt on me, even if it was only a vague article about my hearing.”
“So, you think that nailing them for the three vandalism acts exonerates them from the murder?” Teague asked.
“Yes. My aunts are a lot of things, but they aren’t killers.”
“Maybe not, but all you have to do is tell Lewis. He can flesh it out with them,” Teague suggested. “You’re off the hook. And if you aren’t a suspe
ct, you aren’t in the paper.”
I smirked. “That story’ll still make the paper. Besides, you think I’m going sic Lewis on my aunts? They didn’t do it. I can’t ruin their reputations like that.”
“They wouldn’t be so generous.”
“That’s them. Not me.”
“Well, speaking of your wonderful aunts, I’ve been busy, too,” Teague added. “The devilish duo is actually a trio. I’ve been doing some digging, and guess how much money Candy’s supposed to make off the sale of your building?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Something like $20,000?”
Teague was surprised. “Well, yes. But, also if she closes that deal, she should make top seller at the company and that involves some other bonus. She’s been coveting that title for years. There’s something else. Prepare to be impressed because I’m sure you don’t know this.”
“What?”
“About three years ago, for apparently no reason whatsoever, Clara and Charlotte made Candy a partner,” Teague revealed.
“A partner?”
“Her Top to Bottom shares are small, but she owns them,” Teague returned. “I spoke to a few of the other agents at her work, and that’s about the same time she stopped showing the building.”
I gave him a confused look. “What are you suggesting?”
“Clara and Charlotte’s success took time. I think they’ve wanted that building for a while, and made Candy a partner so that she’d hinder its sale. If she kept prospective buyers away, then they’d have time to raise the money to buy it themselves.”
I cast him a skeptical look. “That’s a lot of speculation. They could have also done it as a birthday present or just because she’s their sister.”
“Or because all three of them are diabolical.”
I grinned. “They’re not killers but, maybe they did work together on trying to keep the building empty.” I sat upright, straddling the bench like he was. “But, knowing all that, we can turn our attention back to Darryl, which is where it should have been all along.”
“Okay, so tell me what you’ve learned about Darryl,” he urged.
I spewed information in such a fashion that I was afraid I was talking too fast or saying too much. I told Teague about my conversation with Megan Masters, and then later with Jeremy Marcus, the recruiter. I revealed how I acquired the marlin, and about my chat with Benny, the dishwasher.
“You’ve been busy,” Teague remarked.
“It’s been fruitful,” I said. “I have a theory.” I paused.
Teague grinned. “Well?”
“The Granny Bandits,” I started, “I’ve gone back and read newspaper articles from the first robbery up until now. I strongly believe that Darryl was a part of this group.”
“Why?”
“It looks like in the earlier robberies the police couldn’t pinpoint the method of entry?”
“That’s true,” Teague confirmed. “Locked up tight by the owners when they left and locked when they came home.”
“Darryl was the lock-picker,” I said. “He got them inside. They took predetermined items and then locked up tight, hoping the owners wouldn’t notice right away. But, Darryl pulled out of the team. And, since lock-picking is a learned skill, the others were left to their own devices, and the method changed. The last three burglaries have been forced entry – broken windows, busted doors – no more picked locks. And they’re taking all sorts of items now, rather than just collectables and jewelry. Darryl quit the team.”
“Why do you think he quit?” Teague prodded.
I took a deep breath. “Darryl stopped his criminal behavior, was working two jobs, tried to buy a house, and intended to enlist in the army,” I summed up. “He was getting his life in order.” I smiled. “He was in love.”
“With who?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Teague took a long swig of his beer. “I was going to tell you this earlier, before I got distracted. Lewis got a search warrant for Chambers’ residence,” Teague contributed, “based on the new evidence, the snake rake. Since Chambers lived in his mother’s home, they could only search Darryl’s private bedroom.”
“What’d they find?” I asked, eyes wide.
“No lock-picking tools,” Teague said, “No stolen goods. But, there was something.”
“What?” I urged.
“A picture,” he said, “of the entire Duffy family.”
“What?” I asked again.
“It was an older picture,” he said, “at least two or three years old. Christmas judging from your grandmother’s reindeer sweater. It was on the deck of your grandmother’s house. You were in it, your parents. Clark had a goatee though, and the twins had braces.”
“I remember that picture,” I said. “Grandma Betty’s Rudolph sweater. It lit up when you pushed the button on the cuff. Yes, it was two years ago. Why would he have it?”
Teague shrugged. “I was hoping you could tell me.”
“No clue,” I replied. “Honestly.”
“It bothers me.”
“What does that mean for the case?” I asked.
“Means you and Via are suspect buddies,” Teague replied, “unless you hand over your info and point Lewis in another direction.”
“Well, Via does have a motive other than hating Darryl,” I said. “Turns out he’s trying to buy Beach Read, too. Made an offer using a dummy company.”
“Holy shit,” Teague replied, “How’d you-”
“Lenny the prevention specialist,” I replied. “I have no idea what he wants it for, but Great Uncle Joe said that there was an offer from a company called AVID, which I’m pretty sure is just D. Via.”
“That could blow your original thought out of the water,” Teague pointed out. “Darryl’s murder could be about him and you both. Via could have been killing two birds with one stone.”
“He does have the best motive so far,” I agreed, “but I don’t-”
“The killer’s not going to jump out at you and say ‘I’m the one’,” Teague returned. “You gotta practice some self-preservation here. You’ve got to hand Lewis someone. Might as well be Via.”
I shrugged. “I don’t suppose you guys have found Darryl’s money?”
“Nope, if he ever had it.”
“I can’t imagine that he kept it anywhere normal,” I noted. “Knowing him, he probably had some kind of intricate lock box for his money.” I grinned, and then it fell again. Teague finished his beer, and let his fingers wander over to my knees. I eyed the bandage on his right arm.
“Does it hurt?” I asked.
“Nope.” He smiled warmly.
“You know, if my theory is right, then that means his brother is definitely one of the other robbers. Their fight makes perfect sense now. Ronnie was pissed that Darryl was bailing out and joining the army. I also heard that Ronnie was messing around with Darryl’s ex-girlfriend, the stripper. I’m not sure if that’s true, but if it is, that makes him pretty gross and not a very good brother.”
“Maybe being an only child isn’t such a bad thing after all.”
“Agreed.” I guzzled mine down. The sun had long since disappeared and the night sky had blanketed the island. Boating at night would be another adventure. I decided to let Teague drive.
Chapter Sixty
Light
Some creatures produce light, a phenomenon called bioluminescence. Fireflies, glowworms, and other insects are gifted this way. Certain mushrooms have the talent. But, underwater, where you’d think the earth is its darkest, there is a cornucopia of lights, a diverse array of creatures that turn the black sea into a brilliant light show.
Bioluminescence came to mind when I woke to the light shining through my windows.
Wednesday.
Detective Lewis showed surprise, what little he could muster underneath his shaggy mustache, when I showed up, bright and early, at his boring, little cubicle. “Just getting ready to come and look for you, Ms. Duffy,�
� he said. “Got some questions for you.”
“Fine,” I replied simply. I sat down beside his desk and readied myself.
Lewis started his barrage of questions, and I shed as much light as I could, even when he taunted me with the Tyler Kettering incident. Just as I explained to Teague, I told him the story as calmly as I knew how.
“I should arrest you,” he said dryly.
“You’d be wrong,” I insisted.
“We have the gun in your possession-”
“But no prints or residue to link me to it,” I interjected.
“You’ve got a violent past-”
“No charges ever filed,” I replied.
“A shabby alibi,” he continued.
“So does everyone else,” I returned.
“Blood on your clothes and hands,” he said.
“Which can be explained.”
“And your picture in the victim’s possession,” Lewis added.
“No clue how it got there,” I admitted. “And thanks to you, the whole town has my picture in their possession. You’ve got nothing. And most importantly, you have no motive. But, I can help.” I laid out most of my information, simply, and Lewis barely listened.
“Alright, Ms. Duffy. I’ll look into it,” Lewis finally said, “but, if nothing else pans out within the next twenty-four hours, I’m setting my sights on you. Don’t leave town.”
I unlocked the door to Beach Read with the sun burrowing at my back. I turned to face it and soaked it up. Sweat jumped to my pores. The parking lot of Beach Realty gleamed with reflections of the cars. A figure crossed the window on the right side and I squinted. A hand came up and pulled the blind down. For the first time, I realized that it was Candy’s office window. If she’d been looking out, I could have waved to her.
The glass guys arrived and started their work on the windows.
Henry Bellows visited, and I offered him a job. It was, of course, contingent upon me opening the store and being able to afford him, of course. But, I had a special plan for his exceptional talents, and he, very dramatically, agreed. He also asked if he could put a tent on my roof, his temporary castle.
Sea-Devil: A Delilah Duffy Mystery Page 24
