Lenses, Lust, and Murder: A Crystal Coast Case (Crystal Coast Cases Book 2)

by A M Ialacci

  “Any on the boat? For fishing?”

  “Oh, there’s probably a filet knife on there somewhere. Why?”

  “Ma’am, some deputies are going to stop by and search your boat, if you don’t mind. If they find a knife, we’re going to borrow it for a bit,” Charlie said.

  “Oh, okay,” Erika said, biting her lip again.

  “Anything else you’d like to share with us today?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” she said, trying a smile on Cruz. It wasn’t returned.

  “I’ll see you out then.” Cruz stood and walked her out.

  “Every single person we’ve spoken to is lying about something,” Charlie huffed.

  “Frustrated?” Allie asked.

  “Slightly.” He sighed.

  “We’ll get there, Charlie. Just need a little pressure, remember?”

  “We got plenty of that from above,” he said.

  “Are you talking about the task force or Kat Matthews?”

  “Both,” he said.

  “What’s Kat’s problem?”

  “Manpower. She wants to reassign me to other ‘more pressing’ cases. Leave this to the FBI, she says.”

  “But this investigation needs you. Needs us,” Allie said.

  “I know. It also needs to be solved,” he said.

  “No arguing that,” she said.

  Cruz came back into the room with a big smile. “Let me show you what else we found on the phone!”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Cruz put an open laptop on the table and spun it around to face Charlie and Allie. “There was a voicemail left by Les Fulcher. It’s garbled, but, well, listen,” he said and pressed play.

  There were a few seconds of silence and then a rough voice spoke. “Harriet, this is Les Fulcher. I know—” there was static interference. A few seconds later, his voice came back. “It’s way overdue. It can’t keep on like this. I have rights, too! I need to see you. I know you have that event tonight. I’m coming—” More interference. “I will see you and I will speak to you.” The recording cut off.

  “What do you think?” Cruz asked.

  “When was it left?” Allie asked.

  “Around one o’clock, the afternoon of the murder.”

  “The reception out there is pretty awful,” Charlie said. “I suppose we could get the carrier to trace the location of the call.”

  “Or we confront him with it, and he just admits to it,” Cruz says.

  Charlie chuckled. “You don’t know Les.”

  “How about you do both?” Allie asked. “Tell him you have the voicemail, see what he says. If he doesn’t admit it, you tell him you can get the carrier to give us his location. He should give up then, right?”

  “That could work,” Charlie said.

  “I’ll let you two handle that. Sounds like you have history,” Cruz told Charlie.

  “We do. Allie and I will head out there now.”

  They pulled in at Les’s sister’s house again and walked up the gravel driveway. Cathy let them in, and Les was seated in the same chair, arms crossed. Allie wondered if he had moved since their last visit.

  “I told you we’d chat again, didn’t I, Les?” Charlie said.

  Les said nothing but shot Cathy a dark look when she chuckled.

  “You called Harriet on the day of the murder. Left a voicemail,” Charlie said.

  Les gulped and then shrugged. “What of it?”

  “You didn’t sound too happy.”

  “Doesn’t mean anything,” Les huffed.

  “You know, we can go to the cell phone company and find out where you were when the call was placed,” Charlie said.

  Les’s eyes widened and he leaned forward, rubbing his rough hands together. “Okay! All right. I was camping out at the Cape, but I was nowhere near that lighthouse.”

  “Who said anything about the lighthouse?” Allie asked.

  “I heard about what happened.” He glanced back and forth between the two of them. “But I didn’t have nothing to do with it.”

  “You and Harriet had a longstanding grudge against each other, didn’t you?”

  Les didn’t answer right away. “Maybe. I guess. But I told you before. It wasn’t personal.”

  “Wasn’t personal?” Charlie asked.

  “No. I was angry about the rules she was trying to enforce. It wasn’t about her.” He held out his hands, palms up. “I wanted to meet with her, clear the air. I wanted a truce.”

  “‘It can’t keep on like this,’” Charlie quoted and checked his notes. “‘I will see you and I will speak to you.’”

  Les shrugged again.

  Cathy took a drag and said, “Les, if you harmed a hair on that woman’s head, I’m not bailing you out.”

  “Shut up, Cathy. I didn’t touch her. She never got back to me. I looked for her, okay? But she wasn’t around. I heard an ATV running after it got dark, which was weird.”

  “What time was that?”

  “About seven,” Les said.

  “Anything else you remember?” Charlie asked.

  “I saw a couple of rangers right near the entrance to the lighthouse. Didn’t look like they wanted to be seen.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t anywhere near the lighthouse,” Allie said.

  Les pinched his lips together.

  “Do you know who they were?” Charlie asked.

  “I think it was that Chan kid, and that other woman who wanted Harriet’s job.”

  “How do you know that?” Allie asked.

  Les shrugged. “I hear things.”

  “So you don’t really have an alibi,” Charlie pointed out. “Unless someone saw you.”

  Les shook his head. “You’re just going to have to believe me on this one, Charlie. I didn’t hurt her. I didn’t even see her.”

  “Do you carry a knife, Les?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Would you let me have it for testing?”

  Les hesitated before reaching to his belt and handing the utility knife to Charlie who held out an evidence bag.

  “Please don’t go running, off, Les. Without an alibi, I have to treat you as a suspect, and if you do a runner, we will have to bring you in. Understand?”

  Les glared at Charlie but finally nodded once.

  Charlie looked at Cathy who said, “Don’t look at me. I’m not his keeper.”

  “Just try to prevail upon his common sense,” Charlie suggested.

  Cathy let out a loud, throaty laugh that ended in a coughing fit. “He ain’t got any!”

  Les scowled at his sister, and Charlie sighed. “I think we’ve got what we need.” Charlie put a hand to Allie’s back and gestured to the door. “Shall we?”

  On the way out to the cruiser, Allie asked, “What do you think?”

  “I think he wouldn’t have handed the knife over so willingly if he had done it.”

  “May have been a different knife,” Allie pointed out as she opened the car door.

  “True, but he’s not one to cooperate with authorities at all. The fact that he is means he knows it’s a big-time charge, and if he were guilty, he’d be long gone.” Charlie started up the cruiser.

  Allie nodded. “Makes sense. Also, if they had such a long-standing feud, why did he need to kill her all of a sudden?”

  Charlie nodded. “Yep, that too. No, I think we need to look elsewhere. I’m not ruling him out, but I’m going with my gut on this one.”

  Allie winked and said, “It’s served you well in the past. Why quit now?”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  As he handled the curves in Island Road on the way back to the Visitor Center, Charlie turned to Allie. “I had one of my deputies dig into Greg Chan’s background a bit,” Charlie said.

  “And?” Allie asked.

  “I think he’s a bit of a hothead. He’s had a few disciplinary issues through school, and even while a ranger, and they all seem to stem from major anger issues.”

  “Really?�
�

  “Got into a barfight as a teenager, apparently. Could have gotten nasty if the law hadn’t shown up. No charges pressed, however, so he doesn’t have a criminal record.”

  “Wasn’t lying when he told you he wasn’t a criminal, then,” Allie said.

  “Just barely,” Charlie said. “But if our murder was in the heat of the moment, our killer might need a hair-trigger temper like his.”

  Allie nodded. “Do we need to question him again?” she asked.

  “We will,” Charlie said. “But first, we need to probe his co-workers a bit about his temper. See if we can see a pattern of behavior while he was here at CALO, and see if any of it was directed at Harriet.”

  “Smart plan,” Allie said.

  “That’s why they pay me the big bucks.” Charlie laughed.

  “Becca, we need to ask a few more questions,” Charlie said when he spotted her in the lobby of the visitor center.

  Allie didn’t miss the subtle signs of irritation: the grimace that flashed across her face before the plastered smile, the small sigh, and the hands forming into fists for a moment.

  “Sure, whatever you need,” Becca said.

  “Are you sure about the time you said you arrived at the Cape with Greg and Jenny?”

  “Fairly sure. We could have been off by ten or fifteen minutes, I guess. Why?”

  “Someone may have seen you at the lighthouse around 7:15pm, which is the time you said you arrived the last time we spoke.”

  “I wasn’t at the lighthouse, though,” Becca said, eyes widening. “I was working to help set up around the Keepers Quarters.”

  “So you didn’t go into the lighthouse at all? Weren’t on the steps or near the entrance? With Greg?”

  “What? No,” she said, looking between Allie and Charlie. “Who said we were?”

  “I can’t divulge that information,” Charlie said.

  “Well, the lighthouse and Keepers Quarters aren’t too far apart. And Jenny lit the lanterns. I suppose—”

  “And the job performance reviews. Those haven’t been found, correct?”

  “No, they haven’t. I don’t know anything about that at all,” she said.

  Allie noticed her breathing a bit faster, and her voice raised in pitch a bit. She was nervous now.

  Charlie glanced at Allie with a cocked eyebrow. He had noticed her mannerisms, too. “Last question, Becca, and then we’ll let you get back to your duties. Tell us about Greg’s temper.”

  “His temper?” Becca asked, swallowing hard.

  “He seems to have a problem controlling his anger,” Charlie said. “Have you ever seen that in him?”

  “Uh, no, not really,” she said. “I mean, everyone gets angry from time to time, right?”

  “Sure, but does he seem able to control it when he does?” Allie asked.

  “I guess so. I’ve not seen him do anything out of the ordinary,” Becca said.

  “Are you sure?” Charlie asked.

  Becca swallowed hard again. “Not that I can recall,” she said.

  Charlie paused. When she offered nothing further, he said, “I guess that’s all we needed from you, Becca. Thanks for your time. We’ll speak again soon.”

  The plastered smile that had returned faltered a bit at his last sentence. “Anytime,” she said and left the lobby quickly.

  “Why is she so nervous?” Charlie asked.

  “I told you what I overheard between her and Greg. They know more than they are letting on about those reviews.”

  “Well, they thought they did. And now that they don’t, they’re nervous.”

  “I feel like the two of them have something they aren’t telling us,” Allie said.

  “That’s as plain as the nose on my face,” he said. “The question is, was it murder or something else.”

  Jenny was preparing for a group of elementary school students arriving soon on a field trip when Charlie and Allie found her.

  “We have a few questions, Jenny, and then we’ll get out of your hair,” Charlie said.

  “Sure!” she said, smiling.

  “We have a witness who spotted Greg and Becca over at the Cape the night of the murder about the same time you said you arrived. Is it possible you were wrong about the time?”

  Jenny seemed to think for a moment and then nodded. “I suppose we could have gotten there anytime between 7:00 and 7:15. Could also be that the witness got the time wrong, too, though, huh?” She winked. “Now that you mention it though, I wasn’t with Greg and Becca the whole time. Someone had taken one of our ATVs, and I went looking for it a bit. Didn’t find it that night, though. Found it later,” she said.

  “An ATV?” Charlie asked.

  “Yeah, we use them to haul things from place to place on the trail. The public doesn’t see them much.”

  “Interesting,” Charlie said, stroking his chin. He glanced at Allie, and she knew he was thinking of Les’s comment that he had heard someone using an ATV.

  Could they have intended to use it to haul Harriet’s body? she thought.

  “So you weren’t with Greg and Becca around 7:15?” Allie asked.

  “I guess not,” Jenny said. “But I wasn’t gone for too long. Maybe fifteen minutes?”

  “I see.” Charlie glanced at Allie again. “And you’re sure about that timing now?”

  “Yes, I think so.” Jenny looked down at her feet and swallowed. “It’s just so sad, especially because of the baby.”

  “The baby?” Charlie asked.

  “Harriet’s baby,” she said.

  “So you knew?” Charlie asked.

  Jenny nodded. “She was my mentor and we spent a lot of time together. She was sick every morning, bothered by the slightest smells, carrying saltines with her everywhere she went. I knew. But I knew she was happy about it.” Jenny’s eyes glistened.

  “Did you have any idea who the father might have been?” Allie asked.

  “I was shocked. I had heard that she was… well, you know. I had even heard that Becca hit on her once.” Jenny grimaced. “After the murder, I wondered if Greg might have been the father. He’d met privately with her several times lately, and had gotten so angry each time. Enough to make me think it was something personal.”

  “Angry?” Charlie asked.

  “So upset he trashed one of our displays here in the lobby.” Jenny nodded. “Tore it all apart! Luckily there weren’t any visitors in here. Took us several hours cleaning it up that afternoon.”

  “When was that?”

  “The day of the murder,” Jenny said.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Cruz sat across from Allie and watched her as she took a careful sip of her water. She placed the sweating glass in the exact center of the napkin, placed her hands in her lap, and raised her eyes to meet his.

  “Why did you ask to meet me here, Agent Cruz?” Allie glanced around the bright space bustling with busy servers and an upscale clientele. The Spouter Inn was right on Taylor’s Creek in Beaufort, and every table had a spectacular view of the water.

  It was his turn to take his time. He unrolled the napkin, placing the silverware in their appropriate places and draping the napkin in his lap before meeting her gaze with a wry smile. “I thought you and I could help each other.”

  “Help each other how?”

  He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table and leaning his chin on his folded hands. “You tell me.”

  Allie sighed. I am so not in the mood for this hotshot’s games. She leaned back and folded her arms. “You asked me here, Cruz. I just want to know why.”

  “Kat Matthews is standing in the way of your access to the files, right? You haven’t seen them.”

  She turned her head and scratched her neck. Perceptive little bastard. “Now that you mention it, no,” she admitted.

  “I’d like to help you with that,” he said.

  “That’s very… kind,” Allie said. “But again, I have to ask why.”

  “Are you that unus
ed to people being kind to you, Allie Fox?”

  Just who does this guy think he is? And does he really think he’s being charming? Still, Charlie Bishop seemed to have a high opinion of the guy, so she had to hold on to that benefit of the doubt for a while longer.

  “No, plenty of people have shown me kindness,” she said. “My brother, Ryan, and I haven’t exactly had it easy the past few years, you know.”

  “I’m acutely aware of that, Allie.”

  It was the last straw, and she was tired of the games. “And why, exactly, is that, Agent Cruz? Why do you know so much about me, yet I don’t know you from Adam?” Allie was trying to hold her tongue in check. The last thing she needed was an enemy on the task force. But this guy was getting under her skin. What the hell is his deal, anyway?

  He turned his head, brushed some crumbs from the tablecloth, and refolded his napkin in his lap. When he looked at her again, she realized it was embarrassment bringing a bit of color to his cheeks. “Did Charlie not share any of this with you?” he asked softly.

  Heat crept into her own cheeks as a mix of confusion and dread overtook her body.

  “Charlie? No. What should he have told me?”

  “This is awkward, Allie. And I’m not sure I’m the one to be telling you about all this.”

  “All what, dammit?” Confusion gave way to anger now. What in the hell was he talking about? “One of you needs to man up and tell me what’s going on!”

  Agent Cruz held out his hands, palms up. “All right. So be it. I know about you because I investigated your parents’ accident.”

  Stunned into silence, Allie felt like she’d been struck and had to remind herself to breathe.

  “What? Why in the world would an FBI agent investigate a car accident involving a retired Marine and his wife?”

  “He wasn’t just a retired Marine, Allie.”

  “What are you talking about? He was a boat engine repairman, and then he retired from the Marines. He started up a little company and was then bought out. That was it,” she insisted.

  “That wasn’t it,” Agent Cruz said.

  Allie leaned back and crossed her arms, refusing to say another word until he explained.