1 Lowcountry Boil

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1 Lowcountry Boil Page 11

by Susan M. Boyer


  Blake shifted on the sofa and the wicker creaked. He smiled one of those closed-lip smiles that told me he was uncomfortable.

  Kate was practiced at the art of small talk. “Nice having Liz home again, isn’t it, Blake?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His eyes danced past hers. He glanced around the porch, at his shoe, and across the Atlantic at Africa. “Ah, Kate, I need to ask you some questions, if you don’t mind.”

  Kate stopped rocking. “Oh my, this isn’t a social call then, is it? You are here in your professional capacity. How exciting.”

  “I’m looking into Gram’s death.” Blake rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not convinced it was an accident.”

  “Blake, darlin’, that’s nonsense.” Kate looked horrified. “Who in this world would want to hurt Emma Rae?”

  “That’s what I can’t figure. You knew her, her entire life. I hoped you could help me sort things out.”

  Kate shook her head slowly and emphatically. “I am sorry. It was a freak accident, to be sure. But I can’t believe it was anything but an accident.”

  Blake paused a moment as he reached inside his pocket. “Kate, have you ever seen this locket?” He handed her the plastic evidence bag and pulled on a pair of Latex gloves.

  For a long moment she stared at the piece of jewelry. “No,” she said. “I don’t believe I have. Was it Emma Rae’s?”

  “I’m not sure.” Blake retrieved the bag, pulled out the locket and opened it so she could see the picture.

  Kate covered her mouth with her hand.

  Lines appeared in Blake’s forehead. “Kate?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Kate lowered her hand to her chest and brought the other to her throat.

  “Do you recognize this man?” asked Blake.

  “You all don’t know who he is?”

  “Do you?” Blake asked again.

  “Well, no. I don’t think so. This is all so very strange. Emma Rae was like a sister to me, and I know after Ben died, well, there just wasn’t anybody else for her. There must be some explanation.”

  “I’m sure there is,” he said. “I just wish I knew where to look for it.”

  Kate rose abruptly. “Blake, Elizabeth, I do apologize, but I really must lie down now. It was good of you to stop by and I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help. Do come again soon, won’t you?”

  “Of course, Kate. Are you all right?” He closed the locket, replaced it in the bag and dropped it into his pocket.

  “Yes, yes. I’m fine. Don’t make a fuss now. I’m just going to take a nap.” She glided into the house, her exit quick for someone who needed to lie down.

  “We’ll see ourselves out,” I called to her back.

  In the Tahoe, Blake sat a moment without starting the engine.

  “That was odd,” I said. “Very un-Kate of her to bolt and leave company sitting on the porch.”

  “What do you think upset her so much about that locket?”

  “Well, it was one of two things. Either the shock of finding out Gram had a beau, or Kate recognized the person in that picture.”

  SIXTEEN

  Blake brought the Tahoe to a stop in the station parking lot.

  His handheld chirped. “Chief?” Nell said. Blake’s administrative assistant and dispatcher, Nell Cooper, belonged to one of a handful of families who had lived on Stella Maris as long as ours. She allowed Blake the illusion he was in charge of their tiny office. Nell was a formidable woman—two hundred fifty pounds of groomed-to-the-nines African-American church lady with a thick veneer of Southern sass. She was also Clay Cooper’s mother.

  Blake fumbled with the phone. “Yeah, Nell.”

  “Mackie’s waiting in your office. You have a five-o’clock with him about Zeke Lyerly shooting squirrels inside the town limits again.”

  He closed his eyes and banged his head on the steering wheel, then lifted the phone back to his ear. “On my way in the door.”

  He climbed out of the Tahoe, and I scrambled behind him. “Blake, while you meet with Mackie, can I just look through Gram’s file? Two sets of eyes—”

  “Forget it.” He kept walking, the way folks do when they’re shouting “no comment” to the reporters on the way into the courthouse.

  Since he felt that way about it, I stopped and watched him disappear inside. I bit back a handful of words that weren’t filled with sisterly love and got in my own car. As I shut the door to the Escape, I noticed a maroon Mazda across the street in the bank parking lot. The top of someone’s head was barely visible in front of the steering wheel, as if they’d slid down to hide. I do this myself sometimes. I pulled across the street into a spot one row back from the Mazda. I opened my laptop and logged on to the database I subscribe to for motor vehicle information. The Mazda was registered to Deanna’s dad. It was a cinch that wasn’t him slouched behind the wheel. Deanna. What in blazes was she doing?

  From our respective surveillance positions, Deanna and I watched as Adam walked out of the town offices, crossed Palmetto Boulevard, and headed down the sidewalk.

  “This is ridiculous.” I got out of the Escape, opened the passenger door to the Mazda, and slid low into the passenger seat.

  Deanna squealed and reached for the door handle, then froze. “Liz?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Minding my own business, unlike some folks.”

  Colleen poked her head between the front seats. Great. I bit my lip and focused on Deanna.

  “I’m worried about you,” I said. “I want to help. What are you doing in your daddy’s car?”

  “You’ve been home three days. How do you know this is my daddy’s car and not mine?”

  “We’re wasting time. You’re tailing Adam, right?”

  She peered over the steering wheel. “He’s headed back to the hardware store. He said he’d be gone the rest of the day. Half the time, when he’s supposed to come back, he doesn’t. I rounded up one of the stock boys to watch the store, but he left a half hour ago.” She covered her face with her hands. “And Adam won’t find me there.”

  “So what? Tell him you had errands to run.”

  She lowered her hands. “I’ll run back in and say I just stepped out to the bank.” She turned away from me. “Another lie. I’ve been lying to people I love all day. I lied to Mamma—I couldn’t tell her the real reason I needed her to pick up the girls, now could I? You’d be amazed how easy the lie about my car giving me trouble rolled off my tongue.” Her eyes met mine. They were wide and wet. “I’m not normally a liar, you know.”

  “Why are you following him?”

  Emotions wrestled on her face. Pissed-off won. “He’s having an affair.”

  “Who is she?” Colleen snarled.

  I tried making Colleen vaporize with a look. It didn’t work. “So, who is she?” I asked Deanna.

  She swiped at a tear. “I don’t know. Unless he rendezvoused with his mistress while I was picking up Daddy’s car, he hasn’t seen the hussy today. He made the deliveries, and then he stopped at the bank—which is odd, because I normally do the banking—then the professional building next to the courthouse. His last stop was the town administrative offices. I didn’t dare get out of the car to see whose office he’d gone into. He might’ve caught me on his way out. He was in there for nearly an hour and a half. Just as I was about to leave, he came out and headed up Palmetto on foot.”

  Deanna grabbed the steering wheel and peered over it again. Adam tried the front door of the hardware store. It didn’t open. He stepped back, scowled at the door, then tried again. He appeared to be spitting curses as he pulled out his keys, unlocked the door, and went inside.

  Deanna started the engine. She turned down the alley and into the small parking lot behind the hardware store. Adam had left his
car in front of the professional building, and there was only one car in the lot: a dark blue BMW with a vanity plate on the front.

  Thornblade—a high-dollar country club in Greenville.

  I sucked in a lungful of air. I knew exactly who owned that car.

  What in the name of sweet reason was Scott doing in Stella Maris? I could count on one hand the times he’d come home with me when we were married.

  Deanna parked close to the building, turned off the engine, and removed her keys from the switch. “Shoot,” she said. “I forgot to roll up the windows.” She put the key back in the ignition.

  That’s when we heard loud angry voices from the back room of the hardware store.

  Colleen transported herself to the outside of the car and crouched beside it. She motioned for me to follow.

  “Deanna, stay here.” I opened the passenger door, slid out, and closed the door silently. “Let me see what’s going on.” I knelt behind Colleen.

  Deanna opened her door. “I’m not staying here by myself. What if they come out?” She mimicked me getting out of the car quietly and huddled behind me.

  I sighed. I didn’t like this a little bit, but there was no time to argue. Like ducklings, the three of us waddled in a row up the back steps. I turned the knob carefully and opened the door just wide enough to slip into the hallway.

  The door to the office was closed halfway. Colleen propped herself in the open doorway and watched the action while Deanna and I peeked through the crack between the door and the jamb, her head over mine. She couldn’t have recognized the blonde man in the expensive-looking business suit who was shouting at her husband, but I surely did.

  “Look,” said Scott. “I told you to wrap this up before the end of the month. Time is money.”

  “And like I told you, everything is under control, with the possible exception of your wife. An unpleasant surprise, her turning up here, wouldn’t you say?”

  “You just handle your end. I’ll take care of Elizabeth.”

  My eyes nearly popped out of my head. Of all the nerve. I glanced at Colleen. She made a zip-it gesture.

  “Well, you’d better,” Adam said. “Because it’s not just her vote on town council we have to worry about. She’s mouthy. Every person we’ve convinced to go along with our ‘good cause,’ she’ll unconvince. You can either persuade Liz this is for the greater good or persuade her to go back where she came from.

  “Or,” Adam continued, “we can do what I wanted to begin with, and take care of Frank Talbot. Get him on board, and Liz won’t fight us. Or put somebody more cooperative in his seat.”

  Scott raised his hand. “We’ve been over this. I know Frank Talbot. The man is the most stubborn mule on the planet. You won’t blackmail him—I don’t care what you come up with. And if you try to kill him, even if you succeed without getting yourself shot—which I seriously doubt—it would never come off as an accident. Let me worry about Liz. You just deliver the other votes by the next meeting, or I will make other arrangements. Understood?” There was an unmistakable threat in Scott’s voice.

  “Yeah,” Adam sneered. “I understand. And I’m real scared. You think I couldn’t find a hundred other guys who’d want a piece of this?”

  “Perhaps,” Scott said. “Perhaps not. Let us not forget whose brainchild Stella Maris Resort is. And as you pointed out, my wife has thrown an interesting new light on things, has she not? I believe you need me as much as I need you.”

  Adam seemed to consider this. “Hey, we’ve got enough to worry about without fighting between ourselves.” He grinned and reached out to place a hand on Scott’s shoulder. “Let’s just get this thing done, and we’ll both be rich.”

  Scott didn’t return the smile. He stared at the hand on his shoulder until Adam removed it. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Like a scared rabbit, Deanna bolted into the ladies room, and I followed. I closed the door silently behind us. After a moment, the back door opened and closed. Thinking they had both left, I breathed a sigh of relief. Then I heard Adam’s voice from the next room. The walls were thin, and even with the door shut, we could hear him clearly.

  “It’s me. When are you going to do it? …Say what? …No. My wife doesn’t know a damn thing. …Why would she call you? …Dammit to hell. ….No, she’d never put that together. …I’m not paying you another cent. You got twenty-five up front and you’ll get the other half when it’s done and I need it done yesterday. …I don’t want to know the details. Just get it done.” He slammed down the phone.

  We heard what sounded like Adam rummaging through papers on the desk. A minute later, we heard the sounds of the safe combination being keyed in. After what seemed like an eternity, the front door chimed opened, then shut. Adam went out the way he came in, thank heaven. If he’d seen the Mazda in the back lot, he’d have known Deanna was there.

  Deanna and I sank to the floor in the dark and sat there, too numb to move. After a moment, I reached up and flipped on the light.

  “What in this world is he up to?” she whispered.

  “Don’t tell.” Colleen was sitting cross-legged in the utility sink.

  For a moment, I forgot myself. “Tell what?” I wasn’t sure yet what I knew.

  Deanna’s face scrunched. “Huh?”

  “No telling what he’s up to,” I said.

  “Whatever it is, he’s in way over his head. Shady characters. Underhanded deals.” Deanna stood and opened the door. She was trembling, in a trance-like state.

  Fragments of the conversation we’d overheard were spinning through my head. I slipped past Deanna, crossed the hall, and went into the office. I stepped behind the desk and found a pen and piece of paper. Deanna walked into the office and sat down in the visitors’ chair. I pressed the speaker button on the phone, then the redial key. I jotted down the phone number on the telephone display.

  After one ring, the same snarly voice we’d heard that morning came over the line. “Now what?”

  I disconnected the phone.

  Deanna recoiled from it. “Oh dear heavens. Who did I speak with this morning, and what has Adam hired him to do?”

  She rubbed her arms.

  “What’s the combination to the safe?”

  “Eleven, twenty-three, two.” Her voice shook. “Our first date was November twenty-third, nineteen ninety-two.”

  I stepped over to the wall safe, entered the combination, and opened the door. Inside, on top of the cash drawers and the ledger books, sat five stacks of hundred-dollar bills. I picked one up and fanned through it. “Here’s the other twenty-five Adam just promised the exterminator. Not twenty-five dollars, not twenty-five hundred dollars, but twenty-five thousand dollars.”

  “For what?” Deanna choked out a whisper.

  “Adam is paying our friend the exterminator fifty thousand dollars to exterminate something—someone.”

  Deanna shuddered. She shook her head. “No, this is ridiculous. There’s some other explanation. There has to be. There’s no way I’m married to a murderer.”

  Colleen stood beside her sister, arm protectively around her shoulders. “Don’t push her,” she said.

  Deanna’s eyes were wild. She looked at me for answers. I looked at Colleen and raised my palms. What did she want me to do here?

  Abruptly, Deanna threw herself into homemaker gear. “It’s getting late. I’ve got to get home before Adam wonders where I am. We’ve got church tonight.”

  She stood, pushed in front of me, and scooped up the money and crammed it in her oversized purse. “I’ll hang on to this until we figure out what to do with it.”

  I clutched my head in an effort to grip reality. The Deanna Devlin I knew would never stuff her purse full of hit-man-payoff money. “Deanna?”

  Colleen looked worried, but she didn’t offer suggestio
ns.

  “Come on,” Deanna said. “I’ll be late for church.”

  We left through the back door. Deanna locked the deadbolt behind us.

  SEVENTEEN

  I strode toward the police station at a fast clip. As I pulled out my phone, my head oscillated like a fan, checking every direction for Scott or Adam.

  Nate answered on the second ring. “Hey there.”

  “Nate…” I slammed into the reality of what I was about to say and stumbled.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I… Oh, God.”

  “Liz. What’s wrong?”

  “Scott.”

  “What about Scott?” Nate’s tone reflected how irrelevant he considered Scott to anything current in our lives. Scott was his brother, but they’d never been close. Scott was my ex-husband, but I’d erased him from my life.

  “He’s here.”

  “In Stella Maris?”

  “Yep.” I had my wits about me now. No time to sugarcoat what I was about to tell my best friend. “And it looks like he and Adam Devlin are in bed together on some scheme to build a resort here.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Nate, I think they had Gram killed.”

  Silence.

  “Nate?”

  “Yeah.” More silence. “What makes you think that?” Nate knew what Scott was. But murder was surely beyond what he’d ever thought his brother capable of.

  “I just overheard them talking. They’re about to have someone else killed, and they are none too happy I’m here.”

  “I’m on the next flight to Charleston. I’ll call you when I know what time I land.”

  “Aren’t you in Vegas?”

  “Yeah. So is Camilla Vardry. I’ve got to stop by the hotel and pick up my bag. Then I’ll head to the airport. I’m going to hang up and call the airline. Have you told Blake?”

  “On my way to do that right now.”

 

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