Island of Deceit

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Island of Deceit Page 22

by Candice Poarch


  “She loved you,” Barbara whispered, giving Liane’s hand a little squeeze.

  “Okay, this is Granny talking. Trust. Trust love, trust that what you have is true and you were sent here at this moment in time for a purpose. This move didn’t just happen out of the blue. Your grandmother’s time was up. She lived a wonderfully full life and you enhanced that life….”

  “But…”

  “Even though you’d made plans to be together after your retirement, she didn’t wait around for life to happen. She lived every day, every moment to the fullest. How many hours did she spend in soup kitchens after her retirement? Look at the work she accomplished in church. She was a scrapper to the very end. I know she gave the Stones hell for taking her money and that’s why they killed her. And they’re not going to get away with it.”

  “No, they aren’t,” Barbara muttered, her chin lifting.

  “The two of you took vacations every year to places she would have never seen without you. You were a blessing for each other. And she gave you wisdom. Now she’s sent you home. Home to Paradise Island to meet your future. Embrace it with both hands. Forget all the doubts. Forget the ‘what ifs.’ You’ve almost accomplished your goal. Let Harper help you. Let Harper be a part of this. I’m glad you’re going to talk to him, because it’s letting him enter into a segment of your life you’ve kept closed from him, and that shouldn’t be.”

  Seconds ticked by as they regarded each other. Barbara could imagine her grandmother saying just that. She’d thought she’d let her grandmother down by not being there, not helping her when she needed help most in her last hours. And she was angry that her grandmother went after the Stones without telling her, without waiting for her. But it wasn’t her grandmother’s way to sit back and wait when she felt the need to take action.

  Liane was right. By telling Elliot about this place, her grandmother had sent the Stones here and thereby sent Barbara here, too.

  “Thanks for being my friend, Liane,” Barbara said. “I miss you.”

  “Yeah. well.” They unclasped hands and Liane sipped her coffee. “There’s a certain man I met who’s spending a couple of weeks here during Christmas. You better believe I’ll be back.”

  Barbara laughed. “I’m looking forward to it. Any chance in talking you into staying in my house this time? I might not be there.”

  “Not on your life. You’re a fabulous cook, but after you cook, I’d feel responsible for the dishes. But never fear. Mrs. Claxton informed me that the rooms are all booked in May for the crab fest, so I’ll have to stay with you then.”

  “I have a dishwasher. I know how you feel about housework. I won’t make you do dishes. Promise. You’ll be my pampered guest.”

  “At the B and B, I get fed and don’t have to feel guilty. And I wouldn’t have met Mr. Charming if I’d stayed with you.”

  Barbara raised her eyebrows. “You’re going to have to tell me more about Mr. Charming. You didn’t give up your goodies to this guy already, did you?”

  Liane pursed her lips. “I’ll never tell.”

  Barbara laughed.

  “Besides, if I don’t get moving, I’ll miss my flight. We have to have something to talk about on the phone. Are you going to tell Harper about the money?”

  “Yes, but I’m not handing it over to him. It’s still in the safety deposit box. I’m going to divide and distribute it next week.”

  The women embraced before Liane left. Then Barbara went to get breakfast to take to Harper.

  When she drove by the sheriff’s office, his car was parked out front.

  She rehearsed what she’d say to him, the way she’d often done for difficult clients.

  The secretary was on the phone. Barbara pointed toward Harper’s office and the woman waved her back. Of course she was one of her clients, and when she saw the bag from the B&B, she made an “okeydoke” sign with her hand.

  Barbara laughed and continued on back to knock on his door. With the terse “Come in,” she opened it, then stopped when she saw officers in there with him.

  “Come on in. We’re finished here,” he said, standing.

  The officers cleared out and the last person closed the door behind him.

  “Have a seat,” Harper said.

  “I can see you’re busy. But I wanted to bring you breakfast and tell you that tonight we need to talk.”

  Harper nodded. “About what?”

  “I love you,” she said. “But there are some things I need to tell you and then you can decide if you still want to marry me.”

  “That sounds ominous. But whatever you tell me won’t change my love for you, Barbara. It’s solid.”

  “I need to talk to you about the reason I came here. And that will take time. There are some things you don’t know about me, and if we move forward…well.” She paused. “We’ll talk tonight.”

  He nodded. “I’ll leave here at five.”

  “Enjoy your breakfast.” She kissed him again, lingered over it, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. She felt comforted by his touch, but nervous, too, because she was taking a chance on losing all this. But that was exactly what she had to do.

  “I love you,” she said, then left.

  Finally, Harper thought as he watched the sway of Barbara’s backside as she walked away. It had taken a while for her to trust him, but finally.

  Belatedly, he glanced at the container of food she’d left for him. The aroma mixed with her pleasing perfume.

  He opened the top. Plain toast, one scrambled egg, and cinnamon oatmeal. He liked the B&B food, but Barbara’s oatmeal couldn’t be beat. She’d complained that the three-egg omelets he devoured were too much. Harper sighed. He was going to have to get used to healthier food.

  Small sacrifices.

  She’d been in bed when he left earlier than usual that morning. It had felt good knowing she was safe there. He took the plastic fork out of the package. That’s what Barbara didn’t understand. He wanted someone who cared about him, and whom he cared about, too—concerned enough to take the time to bring him food when he was perfectly capable of getting it for himself.

  He dropped the fork onto his plate, dialed Sam’s place, and put in an order to have a nice arrangement of flowers delivered to his house. Barbara would be there today.

  Trent left D.C. late Monday morning. He was driving against the D.C. rush-hour traffic, thank goodness. It was eight and the traffic travelling north was still bumper to bumper. By the time he would reach Hampton and Norfolk, the traffic in that area should have diminished.

  With his pedal to the metal, he pushed forward, thinking about his mother’s progress. It was going to take time for her to gain her weight and strength back, but at least she was finally moving forward. They’d enjoyed a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner—even if it wasn’t quite as tasty and elaborate as her dinners usually were. And he’d walked with her through the neighborhood each day. Some of her neighbors had come out to tell her how glad they were to see her out and about.

  As soon as he got to the island, he was going to have that talk with Barbara. He was sure she’d help him.

  Dinner was almost ready. Barbara had prepared an easy cassoulet without the fuss and fat of the original French dish. While the dinner was in the oven, Barbara wrote letters to the women Elliot had bilked, telling them she had a portion of the money and would be mailing it to them within a couple of weeks. The money was still in the safety deposit box. She wished there was a way for her to get more. But this was better than nothing.

  After she finished writing the letters, she went outside to clean up a little around the fire pit and placed some soft pillows she’d purchased earlier on the wooden swing where Harper and she made love. Her backside had gotten a couple of splinters the other night. Hopefully they’d sit outside in Harper’s favorite place after dinner and after their talk.

  Then she went inside to shower and dress. On her way downstairs the doorbell rang. She peeped through the window. Sam’s florist truc
k was in the yard. Frowning, Barbara opened the door.

  It was Sam standing with a humungous bouquet.

  “I was given specific instructions for this,” Sam said. “That there would be dire consequences if I didn’t get it right.” He offered one of his rare smiles. “To Barbara Turner. Are you by chance Ms. Turner?” he asked when she still hadn’t spoken.

  “I can’t believe it. What did I do to deserve these?”

  “Only you can tell,” Sam said. “They’re heavy. I’ll take them in for you. Where do you want them?”

  “On the kitchen counter.”

  After placing them there he handed her a bud vase with two roses, a fern, and baby’s breath. “This goes with it.”

  “Oh, thank you. Let me get you a tip.”

  “Nope. I charged him enough for these.”

  “Thanks, Sam.”

  “Enjoy,” he said, backing out the door.

  Barbara closed the door and rushed to the kitchen, pulling the card out of its stand. It read: To a special woman.

  Barbara stood for a moment, letting the words sink in. She would not second-guess the outcome of tonight. He loved her. He’d help make this work.

  Candles would look wonderful on either side of the flowers. Harper should be home in an hour, she thought, then remembered they’d used all the candles. It was closer to drive to the grocer than to her house, so she made a quick trip.

  Elliot was walking toward his car when she spotted him at the supermarket.

  “How you doing, Barbara?” he asked. “Got those shares invested?”

  “Sure do. My friend was here for Thanksgiving week, but she took care of it before she arrived.”

  Elliot nodded. “As soon as you cash them in, we’re moving on, I think.”

  “So soon?” Barbara asked with a surprised expression. “I thought you liked it here.”

  “It’s a nice place, but expensive. Dollar doesn’t stretch as far as it used to.”

  “Isn’t that the truth? Where are you moving to?”

  “We were thinking Arizona. Minerva’s arthritis, you know. But we haven’t made a final decision yet,” he said cautiously. “Been looking through magazines about the most favorable retirement places in the country.”

  Barbara nodded. “It’s cheaper in some southern areas. But they’re getting well-populated, too. So it’s hard to find reasonably priced locations.”

  “That’s the truth.”

  “Well, give my regards to Minerva,” Barbara said.

  “I’ll do that.”

  Barbara was just about to continue into the store when she heard a very loud pop and felt tremendous heat and pain knock into her. She dropped her purse and placed her hand on the pain, looking down at the area. Blood oozed through her fingers. Puzzled, she touched her shoulder. Blood flowed over her hand. She heard people screaming and felt herself falling.

  Elliot saw a kid do a nosedive in the body of a pickup truck just before he hunkered down between two cars and glanced around nervously. This wasn’t the first time he’d heard gunfire. The asshole peppered the area, bullets hitting the side of the car. Was the asshole aiming at him? Or was it Barbara?

  “Stay low,” Elliot said to Barbara, expecting her to be hovering beside him.

  People in the parking lot were screaming and shouting, some crying. Maybe somebody was hit.

  “Maybe we oughta ease round back. Stay low to the ground,” he said. But when Barbara didn’t respond, he said, “You okay, Bar—”

  And then he saw her. Five feet away, she was laid out on the pavement in the wide open. “Barbara?” Elliot shouted, panicked. He crawled on his stomach to reach her, a knot forming in his stomach. If she died, they’d be broke.

  When Elliot reached her, he saw so much blood pouring out and covering her shirt. Oh, my God. Was she even breathing? He saw the shallow fall and rise of her chest, but he had to get her out of the line of fire. If he moved, though, the crazy SOB could shoot him. But he had no other option. He had to take the chance. She had his money. All of his money. She couldn’t die on him now.

  Easing up on his knees, Elliot gathered Barbara beneath her arms and pulled, but she didn’t move. Grunting with the strain, he gathered a breath and pulled again, and this time he managed to slide her back a foot, then lay her flat to take a breath, before he continued. By the time he had her safely by the truck with him, he was tuckered out. He was an old man, for chrissakes, too old for this.

  Since no more shots fired, the shooter must have taken off.

  And then he heard the blessed sound of sirens. Thank the Lord.

  “Hold on, Barbara. Help’s on the way,” Elliot said, taking his coat off to stem the flow of the blood. It was still gushing out like a fountain.

  “Don’t you die on me now.”

  Slowly, people started coming out of their rabbit holes.

  “Anybody hurt?” he heard somebody call out. “The police’re on their way.”

  “Over here. Barbara’s been hit,” Elliot returned.

  Harper was getting ready to leave work a little early when Alyssa said there had been a shooting at the grocer and Doc had already been contacted. She was on her way there.

  He ran out behind her. He tried to reach Barbara on his cell to tell her he’d be late as he tore out the parking lot. He was only a couple minutes away. A crowd had already gathered.

  John was moving the crowd back and Alyssa was stooping over someone lying on the ground.

  “Hang in there, honey,” he heard her say as she pulled out her phone to make a call.

  “Harper?”

  Harper got his first glimpse of Barbara. Barbara? His heart jolted as he went down beside her. My God, she was covered with blood. Was she alive?

  Doc got there, pushing him aside.

  It seemed hours before the chopper arrived, but it was only fifteen minutes.

  “Who was with her when it happened?” he bellowed.

  “She was talking to Elliot Stone,” someone said.

  Elliot stepped back. “I didn’t do it. We were just talking,” he said.

  Alyssa went to Stone. “I’ve got everything covered here, Harper. You take care of Barbara.”

  Harper was torn between staying and beating the truth out of Elliot or going to the hospital with Barbara. He was losing it and he knew it. He had to focus, to think.

  “I’m going to the hospital. I want you to lock up every damn Stone on this island. You got that?” Harper ordered.

  “I got it,” Alyssa said.

  “And do a gun residue test on him.”

  “I am. Now go. Barbara needs you.”

  As they airlifted Barbara away, Harper was on the chopper with her.

  Just before the shooting, Detective Mosley had finally called him back to tell him that Barbara had accused the Stones of pushing her grandmother down the stairs. That Dorsey had been spying on them.

  So she was here attempting to retrieve her grandmother’s money and to exact revenge. Had she shot Andrew? She had been with Harper that night, but there was that small window of time when he couldn’t contact her.

  But she didn’t trash the Stones’ home. She was in bed with him when it had happened. What role did Elliot play in this shooting? They’d said he was talking to her when it happened. Was the shot meant for him and not Barbara?

  Harper scraped a frustrated hand over his head.

  Barbara had become his world. He pounded the carpet in the waiting room.

  Within the hour, Claxtons who lived or worked on the mainland began to pour in. Within two hours, Naomi and Alyssa’s mother arrived with Vanetta and Lisa.

  “Hoyt and the boys are checking all the cars getting on the ferry,” Naomi said. “Nobody’s going to get off the island without them knowing.”

  Harper nodded. As soon as Barbara was out of danger, he was going to drag the truth out of the Stones, by any means necessary.

  Elliot was pacing the floor when Minerva arrived at the station.

  “Hea
rd there was a shooting,” she said. “What are you doing here?

  “Barbara was shot,” he said.

  “But…how is she?”

  “Don’t know. I was talking to her when it happened. At the grocery store.” He swiped a hand over his head. “They grilled me for hours, Minerva. For hours. Even checked to see if I had gun residue on my hand. They still won’t let me go.”

  “She’s got all our money,” she whispered.

  Elliot’s legs gave out on him and he flopped down on the chair. “Every last penny.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “Minerva, I just don’t know. I’ve got to think about this.” His world was caving in on him.

  “Look where your thinking has gotten us so far. We’ve lost everything, everything we’ve made. We can’t make that money back.”

  “Just hold on. You’re acting like she’s not going to make it. It’s not over yet,” Elliot said. “You know she’s going to have the best doctors working on her. Lord knows they’re used to dealing with gunshot wounds in the hospital they took her to.”

  “Elliot, you’re full of shit,” Minerva said, and got up to go home.

  Disbelieving what he’d just heard, Elliot gazed at her backside as she left. If she kept that up, he’d teach her a lesson she’d never forget, brothers or no brothers.

  Everything around him had gone crazy. Now Andrew appeared.

  “Daddy?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “John came and picked me up. Said he wanted to talk to me.”

  “About what?”

  “How should I know?”

  Elliot swiped a hand over his face. What in God’s name did they want with Andrew?

  Elliot leaned close. “You keep your mouth shut, you here? You don’t know nothing. You didn’t do nothing!”

  CHAPTER 14

  Harper paced back and forth in the waiting room waiting to hear from the doctor, his cell phone pressed to his ear.

  “Did you interview Trent?” he asked Alyssa. “Don’t give those Stones any slack. It’s got to have something to do with them. Stay on them, Alyssa.”

 

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