The Empty Chair ~ Murder in the Caribbean

by Penny Goetjen

  He listened sympathetically and glanced toward her as he fired up the Jeep.

  “I hope they found all those horrible people. . . .” Her voice trailed off as she glanced out the window to the pile of blackened rubble, all that was left of her mother’s bungalow. She turned away to try to leave it all behind and commit to memory how it had been, not so long ago.

  As they descended the south side of the mountain in silence, neither wanted to focus on her impending departure. They both knew she would be getting on the plane this time. Even the dogs seemed somber, lying together on the backseat. In spite of the heat, Jake was stretched out on his side across the entire length, and the small pup was lost in the fur of his underside.

  As Olivia’s phone vibrated in her pocket, she slipped it out, pressing the icon to answer the call, switching it to speakerphone and dropping it into her lap.

  “Hello.”

  “Olivia, it’s Detective Benson.”

  “Hey, Detective.”

  “I thought I would bring you up to date on what we’ve got.”

  Glancing over to Colton, she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what he had to say.

  “Okay . . . go ahead.”

  “We’re glad you pulled your mother’s casket off the plane. That caused an unexpected stir in the illegal ops we’ve been trying to track. Because of the change in plans, the casket had to be re-examined by TSA before it could be released back to the funeral home. Turns out there had been thousands of dollars of cash stashed inside they were trying to smuggle off the island. There was even a large bag of heroin thrown in for good measure. It had been made to look like a pillow and was tucked under your mother’s head.”

  “Heroin? Good God.”

  “Yeah, smugglers have been testing the waters, so to speak, here in the Caribbean, trying to find alternate routes for moving drugs into the States. Apparently these people had an insider at the funeral home who had access to the casket before it was sent to the airport, and we were able to track him down and apprehend him.”

  He let that information sink in for a moment.

  “Anything else?”

  “Yeah, this guy Carson who keeps popping up. My gut tells me he was the local guy we’ve been trying to nab. My gut feelings haven’t steered me wrong yet with this sort of character over the years. I think Carson was the third guy at the hospital who got away. Fortunately we had already picked him up on a minor charge so we’ve got him in custody. We’re also counting on a break with the sunglasses from the morgue drawer. We had them tested for DNA and we’re waiting for the results to come back. Someone wore them on their head at some point because there was a strand of dark hair caught in one of the hinges.

  “Oh, and the rookie cop we sent over to your place to take prints from your mother’s Jeep did a great job. He remembered to check for prints on the rearview mirror. It‘s the most common place to find prints because the first thing the perps do when they get into a strange car is to adjust the mirror. But they don’t usually think to wipe it down afterwards. They usually get the door handles, the steering wheel and stick shift but that’s about it. Turns out it was Carson’s prints on the rearview mirror of your mother’s car.”

  Olivia listened intently, anxious to hear if her father had any involvement.

  “He’s an interesting character,” Benson continued his background story on Carson. “Very smooth operator. A con man in many ways. Slick with the ladies.”

  Her mother came to mind and she raised her eyebrows in response. She found it hard to believe Carson was actually involved with her.

  “Apparently he dumped her car off at the local garage where your phone call came from, but he never returned for it. . . . Has a rather sordid background. Grew up here. His father was a patrolman for many years on the island until he was shot and killed in the line of duty. Happened when Carson was just a kid. Devastated the family. When he was old enough, he sat for the test to become a police officer but didn’t pass. After that he disappeared off the radar for a while, that is until now. He had been working for a security company fairly recently but was fired from that job. He was probably down on his luck, flat broke, and looking for an opportunity when someone approached him to be the local guy to help them out. He knows the island, can get around without standing out.”

  Olivia grew curious. “If Carson was their local contact, why would someone have tried to shoot him?”

  While her question was met by silence, Olivia’s eyes grew wide. “That bullet was meant for me, wasn’t it?”

  “I’m afraid so. Fortunately for you, he or she wasn’t a very good shot.”

  Shaking off her brush with death, she continued her line of questioning. “So was he the CK who was trying to communicate with my mother by fax?”

  “No, Carson is actually his last name. It’s what he’s always gone by. Not sure if anyone knows his first name.” Benson chuckled to himself.

  “So who is CK?”

  “He’s an investigative journalist at the local paper who your mother was working with to catch these thugs. Charles . . . uh, Charles Knightstone. Actually owns the paper.”

  “And what did he have to say about all this?”

  “Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to get in touch with him yet. But we will keep at it.” He cleared his throat. “Messages left at his work and home numbers have gone unanswered.”

  Olivia sat in silence, processing his update, but a more pressing matter pushed its way forward. “What about my father? Is he involved in all of this?” Under her breath she declared, “I swear to God if he is, I will . . .” She didn’t feel the need to finish her sentence as she pictured the possibilities.

  “Honestly, at this point, we are still trying to get it all straightened out. His name is on the deed for the last property these people used to hold their . . . uh, gambling events. He’s not the only name listed as an owner—actually he’s sitting right here. Would you like to have a word with him?”

  Olivia could feel anger rising inside of her as she overheard the detective telling her father who he was on the phone with.

  “Olivia! It’s going to be okay.” Her father sounded anxious for her to believe him. “It’s not what you think. Please hear what I’m saying. It’s just a misunderstanding.”

  “You own the property where they had the dog fights? How could you?” She was incredulous.

  “No! No, Olivia, listen to me. Yes, my name is listed as one of the owners of the property. I went in on it many years ago with my buddy, Rod. Remember him?”

  Olivia shivered. Of course she remembered him. Her father didn’t have a lot of friends, but Rodney was a childhood pal of his and her least favorite. On the surface he appeared to be an outgoing, all-around fun guy who was the life of the party. If he was in the room, it was his voice she heard above everyone else’s. And it was always all about him, no matter what “it” was. He needed attention to feed his ego. He hid behind his loud personality.

  At one party at their home, he made an advance at Olivia, touching her inappropriately, which was so shocking she didn’t know how to react, much less how to tell him to back off and keep his hands off her. After all, she was just a kid, and he was one of her father’s best friends. It took her a few years to understand he actually had low self-esteem and needed constant affirmation. Her father must have provided that. It wasn’t often they got together but, when they did, Olivia worried James drank more than usual. On top of it all, they acted as though they were still sixteen, and Rod could talk him into anything. She wasn’t surprised he had talked her father into buying a place on St. Thomas as an investment, probably sight unseen.

  “Sure, how could I forget?” Olivia didn’t try to hide her sarcasm.

  “He must have let the property fall into such disrepair, it looked abandoned. Probably didn’t want to spend the m—”

  “I don’t give a damn about all of that. About Rodney or some lame investment you got involved with because of him. Especially if it has anyth
ing to do with my mother getting murdered.”

  Silence on the other end of the line.

  “Hey, I’m pissed at him for getting me involved in all of this, too. I don’t need this right now either. Oh, and he was the one who was supposed to pick you up at the airport when you first got here but couldn’t because he had already been arrested on some other charges. Look, I need you to know I was not directly involved, and I will get it straightened out and be able to come home soon.”

  “Great.” Her tone was flat, without emotion. After the revelations of the past couple days, it didn’t matter to her when he was able to get back home.

  The detective came back on the line and assured her he would keep her up to date on the investigation and see if they could get her father home before too long. He left words unspoken, yet clearly understood, about her father’s deteriorating condition.

  Olivia had one more question for the detective. “So, how did my mother die, exactly? What did the medical examiner find during the autopsy?”

  Colton shifted in his seat but kept his eyes on the road.

  After an agonizingly long hesitation, the dead air became painful to her ears.

  Undoubtedly, Benson was choosing his words carefully. His tone was even and matter-of-fact. “Olivia . . . do you really want to know?”

  Olivia paused to search within her for an answer. The air was heavy and silent again. “No . . . no, not really.”

  “Look, take solace in this. Because of your mother, we have shut down this illegal operation and rounded up quite a few of the shit heads who were involved in it. They are all facing charges relating to animal cruelty and you can count on them getting prison time. Of course, there’s drug trafficking and money laundering as well. We’re confident we have been able to apprehend most, if not all, of them.”

  Olivia tried to embrace the positive spin Detective Benson put on the tragic events. She ended the call but tension still hung in the air. It wasn’t broken until her phone rang again. She glanced down and noticed it was Laurie.

  “Hey, girlfriend! What’s up with you?” She tried hard to sound upbeat.

  “Liv, I just wanted to check in. It’s been a while since I’ve heard from you. Wanted to make sure you’re okay. What’s going on? Is everything okay? I hope so. When are you coming home?”

  Olivia considered letting her carry on with all of her questions but chose, instead, to cut her off.

  “Everything’s fine.” She knew that was a complete lie and Laurie would be able to detect her transparent tone, but she was going to run with it anyway. “I’m heading to the airport now. I’ll be home—” She caught herself. “I’ll, uh, I’ll be back by tonight.” In spite of everything that had transpired there, St. Thomas was feeling much more like her home than Boston.

  “I’m glad! Can’t wait to see you. Missed you. Listen, Olivia, I took the liberty of opening a letter hand addressed to you from Abigail Adams Studios.” She let that hang in the air for a moment.

  “Okay . . .” Olivia frowned at her admission she had opened her personal mail without asking first.

  “Do you want me to read it?”

  Seriously? “Uh, hopefully it’s good news.” She had to believe Laurie wouldn’t bring it up if it wasn’t good news.

  “Okay, here I go.” Her friend read the letter announcing Olivia had been selected to do a six-month apprenticeship with Abigail Adams Studio and went on to expound on how much Abigail Adams was looking forward to working with Olivia to develop her talents further.

  Stunned, Olivia sat back against the seat of Colton’s car. She had applied on a whim, never actually expecting to be selected. The tingling sensation in her stomach made her nose crinkle. She was thrilled at the prospect. Abigail Adams was an amazing talent and to study under her was an incredible opportunity. Olivia aspired to be able to pick up where she left off with what she had learned from her mother.

  Laurie posed a few more questions in rapid-fire fashion, but Olivia told her she would catch up with her when she got back. Uncertain when she would see Colton again, she wanted to spend the last few moments she had on the island with him. After ending the call, Olivia turned her focus back to Colton and the nagging fact they would be saying good-bye shortly.

  After a resounding “congrats!” from Colton and the slap of a high five over the news, the celebration quickly fizzled as the conversation stalled. The two were keenly aware of the silence inside the car as they neared the airport access road, contemplating what lay ahead of them.

  Soon, however, the silence was again broken by Olivia’s phone. This time it was a text, and she cocked her head as she read the caller ID.

  “Hmmm. It’s from the airline. Says my flight is delayed an hour.”

  Colton turned toward her, his face beaming. “Great! That just bought us more time. Let’s go grab a bite.”

  Olivia certainly wasn’t going to argue. Colton made a U-turn and they headed back toward Frenchtown, stopping at Alice’s, a small eatery on the water frequented by locals and known for great food with authentic Caribbean flavor. The owner and her family had lived and cooked on the island for several generations. Even though it was a comfortably casual place, dogs were not welcome. They left Jake and the pup in the Jeep with the windows rolled down, shaded by an old coconut palm.

  Olivia followed behind Colton as they walked around to the back of the restaurant, out onto the deck overlooking the channel separating St. Thomas from Hassel Island. Olivia’s heart nearly stopped for a moment as she took in the stunning view out to the water. Scanning the lunch crowd on the deck, she noticed an attractive older man at the far end who stood out from the rest because he seemed overdressed for the establishment.

  Navy-blue-and-white checked tablecloths fluttered in the breeze on small round tables. They found an empty one close by the entrance to the deck along the railing. Olivia pulled out the metal chair and the sudden sound of it dragging across the deck floor startled her like the grating sound of fingernails on a chalkboard. She shuddered. Patrons at the next table turned toward the interruption for a fleeting moment. Ignoring them, Olivia sat down with her back to the rest of the deck, turning to sneak another glimpse at the oddly dressed gentleman.

  Since the indoor restaurant was open to the outdoor deck, Colton walked inside to place their order at the bar, leaving Olivia alone at the table. Even though she was in the middle of the raucous lunch crowd, loneliness crept slowly under her skin. The weight of recent events had taken its toll. She concentrated on slowly inhaling deeply and letting out a cleansing breath.

  The uncomfortable feeling someone’s eyes were on her broke her efforts to re-center herself. Glancing around furtively, not noticing anyone in particular looking her way, she tried to brush it off and blame it on fatigue until she felt a hand on her shoulder and a voice from behind.

  “Excuse me, Love.” He had a delightful British accent.

  Olivia turned to look into the eyes of an attractive man who looked to be in his late forties, early fifties, with wavy light brown hair that was neatly trimmed. She pulled back from him to get a better perspective. Her eyes widened as she realized he was the gentleman who had been sitting at the far end of the deck. He was dressed in a light blue button-down oxford shirt and gray summer wool pants.

  “So sorry to bother you, dear. I couldn’t help notice you when you walked in. I have to admit, the sight of you shook me for a moment. You must be Olivia.”

  Her eyes grew wide. How did he know?

  “And you are . . .?” She quickly glanced over toward Colton who had become engaged with a couple at the bar. Laughter and animated conversation suggested he knew them.

  “Oh! Sorry, Love. Forgive my terrible manners. I was flustered when I saw you. I knew it was you. You look just like her.”

  Olivia continued to examine his face closely. There was a sadness in his eyes he seemed to be trying to push beyond. His skin was unusually pale considering he was in the Caribbean. Probably worked too much and didn
’t get outside enough, similar to her father.

  “Who?”

  “Oh, your mum!”

  “And tell me again who you are?” She grew impatient.

  He chuckled, Olivia presumed at the fact she had to ask a second time, and then slipped into the chair across the table from her, not making the annoying sound that she had.

  “I’m Charles.” He interlaced his fingers and placed his hands in front of him on the edge of the table. “Olivia, I would have known it was you in the dark. I’m glad to have bumped into you. It’s fate, I tell you.” His eyes took on a warmth as he spoke.

  “Nice to meet you, Charles.” She guessed he was a rather formal guy since he didn’t tell her she could call him something other than his proper first name.

  “And you’re here under such dreadful circumstances. I am sorry about what happened to your mum.”

  Puzzled, she tilted her head, considering how he could have known.

  “I’m sorry, how do you know my mother? I’m not exactly clear on that.” She examined his face more closely.

  “Olivia, your mum and I worked together.”

  Suddenly it came to her. Her face lit up in recognition. “Charles Knightstone.”

  “Exactly. She spoke of me?”

  “Not exactly. I heard your name from Detective Benson.”

  “Oh, I see.” Disappointment settled in. His face grew serious. His gaze fell far beyond Olivia’s shoulder.

  She waited for him to gather himself and continue. Finally she pressed him. “So she was working for you when she died?” Olivia knew she had dropped a bomb in his lap, but she didn’t care. She wanted to see what he had to say for himself.

  “Your mother was an admirable woman.” He was dodging her question. “So strong. Determined. Always willing to look out for those who could not look out for themselves. That’s one of the many reasons I loved her.”

  Loved her? In what way? What were they talking about here? She felt compelled to ask. “You loved her?”

  “Oh, yes. We loved each other. We were quite close. I had an awful feeling something terrible happened when it had been so long since I heard from her. And Olivia, I’m sorry. I blame myself. Not her. I should have pulled her off the story when it got too risky. Although I don’t know if she would have listened to me. . . . This was a cause near and dear to her heart. You know how she is.” His eyes took on a sad hollowness.