No Place to Deceive

by Jaden Skye

  “Was someone there regularly at that time of day? Could they have been there when Mort was killed?” Olivia jumped on it.

  “Nah, not that I know of,” said Sam. “Nobody else I know of goes to that beach every day. And by the time I got there, from the looks of the body, he was long gone.”

  “There was a storm that day, wasn’t there?” Wayne remarked.

  “Yeah, there was. But that doesn’t stop people from coming. Beachcombers go no matter how bad the weather turns.” Then Sam smiled at Olivia warmly, making her feel as though she’d found a brand new friend.

  Olivia smiled back at him. “I really appreciate your help, Sam,” she replied.

  “You’re two good folks,” Sam went on. “They’re lucky to have you down here, helping out. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”

  Olivia was surprised by his offer. “Like what?” she said.

  Sam shrugged. “Heck if I know. But I’ve been in Key Biscayne a long, long time. Give me a call if I can help with something.”

  “Thank you, I will,” said Olivia as Sam yanked a pad out of his pocket and scrawled down his number.

  After Sam left, Olivia and Wayne gathered their things to go back to the hotel.

  “Let’s forget about returning to the hotel right now,” Wayne said suddenly. “Before we call it a day, I want to get over to the Townsend home and meet the family.”

  “I thought it might be better to go first thing in the morning,” said Olivia. “They’ll all be exhausted by now after a long day.”

  “Exactly.” Wayne nodded. “So much the better. We’ll get to see them when they’re frazzled and it’s harder to keep up a front that hides things from us.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The Townsend home was not far from their hotel or the police station. Olivia and Wayne got into a cab and arrived there in no time. Situated at the end of a cul de sac, the home was large, modern, imposing, and set back beautifully from the street. Old willow trees lined the walkway, and a small dog ran back and forth on the side lawn, wailing. He was probably looking for his owner, calling him to come home, thought Olivia.

  “The family’s expecting us first thing in the morning,” Wayne repeated as they walked up to the front door. “This is fine though. We’ll tell them we just couldn’t wait to meet them.”

  Wayne rang the doorbell, and they only waited a few moments before they heard the familiar voice of a young woman behind the door.

  “Coming, coming,” she called in a high tone. “Who is it now? Aunt May?”

  The door flew open and a tall, angular, very pretty redheaded young woman stepped outside abruptly. She stopped in surprise, seeing Olivia and Wayne there.

  This had to be the daughter who had hired them, thought Olivia. “Penny?” Olivia asked the moment their eyes met.

  “Yes, I’m Penny.” The young woman stared at Olivia. “You’re Olivia and Wayne?”

  “We are,” Olivia responded.

  “We expected you tomorrow morning.” Penny seemed flustered.

  “We didn’t want to lose any time,” responded Olivia briskly.

  “Well, I guess that’s a good thing,” Penny remarked. “At least you care about what you’re doing.”

  “We certainly do,” Wayne joined in, wanting to be included.

  “Well, come on in,” Penny said then, “but the place is a mess and it’s overflowing with people. We’ve had visitors coming nonstop. Nobody can believe what happened. Not one.”

  “Does your mother know we’re on the case?” Wayne asked soberly.

  Penny threw up her hands in despair. “I don’t know what my mother knows at this point. She’s on a total rampage and has been since she heard the news. She refuses to calm down for a second, just keeps going on and on about everything to the visitors.”

  “It’ll be good for us to meet her,” said Olivia.

  Penny looked skeptical. “Frankly, I can’t see anything at all that’s good about what’s happening. But come on in. I’ll show you around.”

  Olivia and Wayne followed Penny into the large home, where a sense of chaos prevailed. The place was noisy, crammed full of visitors and disturbing to be in. As they entered the luxurious living room, Olivia saw people sitting on sofas, and standing close to each other eating snacks and drinking wine. Loud voices talked over one another, and a large dog barked in the corner.

  On one paisley sofa Olivia noticed a woman in her fifties holding court. She was dressed in a long burgundy dress, with a long, handmade necklace, waving her hands and speaking loudly. That had to be Christine, Penny’s mother.

  “Is that woman over there your mother?” Olivia asked Penny, fascinated by the spectacle.

  “Yes, she is,” Penny whispered. “She’s been going on and on like this all day.”

  “Introduce us to her,” Wayne suggested.

  “It’ll just make her worse,” Penny responded. “This isn’t a good time to talk to her, really.”

  “It’s the perfect time,” Wayne countered. “We’ll get to know what she’s thinking and feeling and how we can be of help.”

  Wayne’s comment seemed to calm Penny down a bit.

  “I’d rather introduce you to my brother Lance first,” Penny commented. “Then he can introduce you to my mother. I need a break.”

  “I can certainly understand.” Olivia smiled at her.

  “Well, at least someone can understand,” said Penny. “And I can also introduce you to my mother’s brother, Angie, over there. He’s come, unannounced, to stay with her until things settle down. Naturally, he’s beside himself.”

  “Naturally,” said Olivia.

  “My mother and her brother have always been close, but if you ask me he’s making her worse. He insists that the police put surveillance on our house, is convinced my mother’s also in danger and that someone is still out there, lurking around.”

  “Someone is still out there,” Wayne agreed. “Surveillance is not a bad idea until we get a sense of what this is all about. Your mother needs to be protected.”

  Penny threw Wayne a disturbed glance.

  “Do you live here as well?” asked Olivia.

  “No, I don’t. I live close by and so does my brother. We’re both in our twenties and single, and we don’t still live at home. Why are you asking where I live? Are you suggesting I’m in danger as well?” Penny flung a nasty glance at Olivia then.

  “I’m not suggesting anything yet,” Olivia replied. “How can I? I need much more information. I’m just agreeing that caution is always a good thing.”

  At that moment, Penny noticed a young man a few feet away. “Lance, Lance, come over here,” she called to him. “Olivia and Wayne have arrived.”

  “Really?” he said. Looking surprised and pleased, Lance rushed over to them.

  Lance was tall and well groomed, with short dark hair. He was attractive and calmer than Penny and seemed very stable, actually.

  “How are you both?” Lance extended his hand to Olivia as he smiled at Wayne. “Thanks so much for getting here early.”

  “It’s our pleasure,” said Olivia. “You’ve got a lot on your hands.”

  “We all certainly do,” said Lance evenly.

  “Introduce them to Mom,” Penny asserted.

  “In a little while.” Lance backed down. “I don’t know if she’s able to really have a calm conversation yet. Everyone here thinks that the killer who was just released from jail murdered our father. That’s actually causing our mother to freak out.”

  “Everyone here feels that way?” asked Wayne.

  “And also, I’ve heard the police do,” Lance continued. “Everyone’s horrified that that killer’s not back in jail. The police had him in custody for a little while, but there wasn’t enough evidence to hold him. They’re keeping their eye on him, though, so that’s reassuring.”

  This was a perfect opening to go further, thought Olivia. “There’s no one else at all anyone thinks could have done this? Ever
yone’s convinced it’s the killer?”

  “Everyone but Margaret,” Lance remarked slowly. “She’s our next door neighbor.”

  “Is she here?” Wayne was interested.

  “Yes, she’s here, but Margaret tends to be suspicious of everything. You can’t put much stock in what she says,” Lance replied. “We’re a close family with lifelong friends. Many have gathered here. We all loved our father. The obituaries coming out in the paper have nothing but wonderful things to say about him, too.”

  At that, Penny spun around and walked away, her hands over her face, about to break down crying.

  “Let me take you to meet our mother,” Lance said then. “She’s rather well known in her own way down in Key Biscayne.”

  “Really?” Olivia was surprised to learn that.

  “Yes, Mom has a very successful line of jewelry that she designs herself. She’s been in the spotlight many times, not only with Dad, but due to her own exciting life.” Lance seemed proud to be talking about her.

  “What’s exciting about her life?” asked Olivia, interested.

  “You’ll see when you meet her,” said Lance. “Mom’s charming, lively, a big personality. She has her jewelry shows everywhere you can imagine, and reporters follow her footsteps closely.”

  “Sounds like she enjoys attention,” Olivia remarked.

  Lance suddenly smiled. “That’s well put,” he said. Lance stopped and really looked at Olivia. “You’re awfully young to be doing work like this,” he couldn’t help but remark. “And you don’t look anything like a detective! Nothing at all. I would have thought you were in fashion, or design.”

  Olivia got remarks like that routinely. Actually, it was good that no one imagined that she was a detective. She could slip in under the radar and get more information that way.

  “I actually used to work in the publishing industry, doing PR,” Olivia remarked.

  Lance looked confused. “That’s quite a shift, isn’t it?”

  “I like this better. And I’m good at it, too!” Olivia emphasized. “Age has nothing at all to do with it.”

  Lance was impressed. “Of course, I’m sure both of you will do a wonderful job,” he replied. “Come on, let’s go, I’ll introduce you to my mother.”

  *

  A cluster of people hovered around Christine, who half reclined on a small, plush sofa. One arm was behind her head and the other tapped on her lap repeatedly.

  “I can’t see how I’ll ever go on again,” she said, breathing heavily. “I’m nothing without him.”

  “Christine, Christine,” a short, well-dressed woman exclaimed. “You’re everything. You can do it. You’re the one who made his life wonderful.”

  “No, I’m nothing, nothing,” Christine insisted in a rising tone.

  “Wrong, wrong,” the woman insisted. “We all love you, we’re with you. We’ll help you go on.”

  Even in her distress Christine was magnetic. Her sharp blue eyes flashed as she looked at those gathered around her. In her mid-fifties, she was still extremely attractive too, with dark brown hair dramatically pushed back from her sculpted face. Dressed beautifully, even at this terrible time, she seemed to be holding court.

  “Mom.” Lance made his way through the group of people around her. “I have a couple of people here to introduce you to.”

  Christine barely looked over at him, just murmured something indistinguishable and, with her free hand, waved him away.

  “It’s important, Mom.” Lance was insistent.

  A large, burly man with thick salt and pepper hair who was standing beside her went over to Lance.

  “Take it easy, Lance.” The man pushed him back gently. “Your mother’s in no mood to meet new people now.”

  Lance stood up taller. “They’re not new people, Uncle Angie,” he started.

  “Give it time. Tomorrow, maybe.” Angie stood firm.

  “They’re detectives, Angie,” Lance whispered loudly enough for Olivia to hear.

  Angie backed off a second. “The ones you told me about?”

  “Yeah,” said Lance.

  “Okay, let me talk to them. Leave your mother alone. She’s been breathing heavily all afternoon. The last thing we need is for her to have a heart attack and lose her too.”

  “She’s not going to have a heart attack.” Lance kept calm. “She breathes heavily like that all the time. I think Mom would want to meet them.”

  “But she doesn’t right now.” Angie wouldn’t have it. “In fact, she keeps thinking your father is about to walk in the door at any moment. She keeps telling me this is all a crazy dream. Then when she realizes it’s not a dream, that he’s really gone, she’s in complete despair.”

  Olivia looked over at Christine carefully. She didn’t seem exactly to be in despair, perhaps a state of semi-hysteria. It was understandable, naturally.

  “I’ll talk to the detectives,” Angie repeated, “and they can speak to your mother when she quiets down.”

  “Okay, come here,” Lance relented. There was nothing else he could do.

  Angie walked directly behind Lance then and approached Olivia and Wayne bluntly.

  “Heard about you guys,” Angie started, “even though I wasn’t consulted about whether or not to bring you on board. If I’d thought about it carefully, I don’t know what I would have said.”

  “We weren’t expecting you to move in with Mom.” Lance grew irritated. “We called for the detectives before you arrived.”

  “It’s okay, I’m not saying you shouldn’t have done it. Just that I wasn’t consulted about it,” Angie repeated, put out.

  Wayne broke into the conversation then, trying to establish rapport with Angie. “We’re very glad to meet you, Angie. It seems you’re an important person in the family.”

  Wayne’s comment pleased Angie. “I’ve been close to my sister my whole life long,” he blurted out. “And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let anyone or anything hurt her now.”

  “This has to have come as a great shock to you,” Olivia commented.

  Angie turned to Olivia heavily. “That’s an understatement if I ever heard one. It’s a great shock to everyone, not only the family, but the entire community. There’s no way to prepare for something like this.”

  “No, there isn’t,” Olivia agreed.

  “Everyone’s thinking it’s that crazy killer they lot out of jail early. He’s still on the loose, too. They haven’t taken him in. For all we know, he could strike again at any second. He’d better not come anywhere near here, or he’s dead on my doorstep.”

  “Does anyone at all have a different take on who could have killed Mort?” Wayne asked carefully.

  Angie’s eyebrows lifted nervously. “What do you mean? Is there anyone who suspects someone else?”

  “We have to ask questions like this,” Wayne assured him. “That’s what we’re here for. We can’t leave any stone unturned.”

  “No one that I know,” Angie answered gruffly, “except maybe Margaret, the crazy neighbor next door. But she looks at everyone with a suspicious eye. If she gets the wrong change at the store, she’ll gossip about the woman at the counter, believe she did it purposely, to short-change her. You can’t put stock in anything she says at all.”

  “I heard Margaret’s here now,” Olivia remarked.

  “Who cares?” Angie said. “The last thing we need is having her put crazy ideas in Christine’s head. Look, we’re a good family, we take care of each other, hang together. I believe Mort was a target of opportunity for that deranged killer. And basically, even though it’s too early to say publicly, the police agree with me. Once these killers get loose everyone knows they can’t wait to get a taste of blood again.”

  Olivia remained silent, wondering how Angie knew that.

  “Some do, some don’t,” Wayne declared. “It’s dangerous to generalize.”

  Angie scratched his face. “We can talk more later, if you want. This isn’t a good time for me. I’ve got a
house full of people here, all going crazy. Just focus on nabbing that killer.” Then Angie nodded his head, turned, and departed.

  “From the looks of it up front,” Wayne remarked after Angie left, “the family seems to be normal enough. They’re all here, supporting each other. There’s no glaring reason, at the moment, to suspect any of them.”

  “Not yet,” Olivia murmured softly. “And if there is a reason, it’s certainly not glaring. They look like a close enough family on the surface at least.”

  “And there’s no evidence that I’ve heard about to hold that killer, either,” Wayne mused. “Just being in the vicinity of a crime and having a record doesn’t implicate anyone. I can see why he could look suspicious, though.”

  “I don’t see that,” Olivia suddenly countered. “I don’t believe this was a crime of opportunity. Something else is going on here. The manner of death and wounds were too personal and vicious for that.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Let’s have dinner up in your room,” Wayne said when they were back in the cab on their way to the hotel. “It’s been a long day.”

  “Good idea.” Olivia felt the same way, tired, hungry, and eager to unwind together and go over what they had so far. She also badly wanted to put her head on Wayne’s shoulder for a while and be close. They hadn’t had any physical contact for such a long while, hadn’t even held hands. Olivia missed it.

  Olivia and Wayne went into her room, ordered salad, pasta, and red wine, and opened the windows to let the refreshing evening breeze drift in.

  “I’d say we have our hands full with this case,” Wayne said as he sat down on the couch, running his hands through his hair while he waited for the food to arrive. “It’s probably best to divide the tasks up like we always do. I’ll go and check out Mort’s clinics and business associates. The police are doing a forensic review of the money, naturally. It’s very important to see if he was up to anything illegal, of course.”

  Olivia sat down beside him. “Good plan,” she agreed. “And I’ll speak to Mort’s family and friends in depth.” This was the way they often proceeded and it had served them well so far. “Are you hungry?” she asked then. They didn’t have much material to go over yet and Olivia wanted to turn both the conversation and the evening in a more personal direction.