I moved to the right front window. Diagonally across the street was the bordello.
“This was a stroke of brilliance.” Nate peered out the left front window. “I need to walk around the block to be sure, but it would appear the only way to leave the property without resorting to going over or through some mighty thick shrubbery is to pass by these windows. I suppose one could hop the fence and slip through the yard to the left, but why would they? They don’t know we’re watching.”
I stepped into the adjoining bath. A third window there offered another view.
“Only the killer—and the person who moved the body, assuming that’s not the same person—would connect the body in the park to that house. The rest of the benefactors will have no reason to suspect anyone would be watching. And we need to keep it that way. If one of the clients is our guy, he may not be bold enough to come back in the next twenty-four hours, but the process of elimination may point us in the right direction.”
“So what we need is for all the other patrons to be horny this evening. Then we can focus on whoever doesn’t show up.” Nate stepped away from the window. “I’m going to walk around the immediate neighborhood. I’ll grab the binoculars, the camera and tripod, and the mobile hotspot from the car on my way back in. Anything else you think we’ll need?”
“How many webcams do we have in the Explorer?”
Nate rolled his lips in, looked thoughtful. “A dozen of the air purifiers.”
“That should do it. But no need to bring them up. We need some snacks. Cheerwine and Dove Dark Chocolate Promises. Something salty. Bottled water. Other than that I think we’re good.”
Nate shook his head and silently chuckled. “I’ll be back shortly.”
I called my sister, Merry, and asked her to swing by and see about Rhett. “I’m not going to make it back to Stella Maris until tomorrow, probably late in the day. Play with him for a while, will you?”
“Of course,” she said. “I’ll go by this afternoon when I get home. I need some quality time with my ‘nephew.’ We’ll go for a walk on the beach. Do you want me to take him home with me?”
“Why don’t you just stay in one of the guest rooms at my house like you’re going to do while we’re in St. John? You pack lighter than Rhett does.”
“Okay. Are you getting nervous?”
I smiled. “Not really. I got it right this time. I’m excited. Mamma’s nervous enough for both of us.”
Merry laughed. “That’s for sure. See you in a bit.” She ended the call.
I squinched my face at the phone. She wasn’t going to see me until late tomorrow, if then. I shrugged it off as Merry being at work, eager to get off the phone, distracted.
After checking the view from both front bedroom windows again, I moved the upholstered armchair over to the corner between the right front window and the window facing south on Church Street. Then I grabbed a couple pillows from the daybed and fashioned a lap-desk. So much had happened so fast. I hadn’t had a chance to process everything.
My instincts were to dig straight into deep background on Thurston Middleton. But I needed to organize my thoughts. Like evidence, I needed to log and tag each fact. This case felt like a bowl of spaghetti in my brain. So many pieces already piled on top of each other and twisted together. I needed to sort what we knew into possibilities—feasible theories, or narratives of the crime. I pulled out my laptop and started a case file.
Because I had no proof there’d been a body in 12 Church Street the night before, and I had unequivocally witnessed—and documented—a body-free parlor, I started with what I knew: Seth Quinlan was blackmailing my client’s wife. Olivia had gone to the house the night before to meet with her aunt. While there, she’d seen what she believed to be a body in the parlor. With excruciating detail, I documented the lack of evidence indicating a murder had been committed on the premises.
Then I created a profile on Seth Quinlan. I logged into a subscription database and located his birth certificate. No father was listed. He was roughly twelve years older than us. I checked public records. He owned no property I could locate except a 2010 Dodge truck. He had no adult criminal record, and no civil suits had been filed against him.
I was able to pull a copy of his driver’s license from another database. At six feet three inches tall, two hundred twenty pounds, with long, unruly, medium brown hair, and hazel eyes, he was a nice enough looking man in an outdoorsy kind of way. I wondered why he’d never married, moved away from his aunts.
A quick property search told me The Willow-Mary Trust owned the house at 12 Church Street. It didn’t take long to verify that Willowdean Beauthorpe owned half interest in the trust, and Olivia Beauthorpe Pearson had inherited the other half. This kind of information is only available if you know what to look for, which accounted for why I’d missed it a couple years back.
Only after I’d documented all the facts did I allow myself to create a sub-file labeled “Speculation.” Here is where I would list all the possibilities. Speculation and possibilities were not admissible in court.
I heard Nate on the stairs before the door opened.
“Annelise sent up cookies.” He set down the camera equipment, then crossed the room and bent to give me a kiss that made me lose every thought in my head. When he stood, his smoky blue eyes held mine. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
“We need to wrap up this sordid business so we can go back to dreaming about our honeymoon.” He handed me a napkin with two iced Christmas tree cookies.
“That gets my vote.” I refocused, with great effort. “If you want to put the camera here, I can move. I thought the angle was better from the left window.”
“This will work just fine.” He went about setting up the tripod and camera.
“I’ve documented thoroughly how I don’t think there was a body in the house across the street last night.”
“That might well come in handy later. We can hope neither of us ends up on a witness stand, but I wouldn’t put money on it.”
“Purely as a hypothetical exercise, if there was a body, the only person who couldn’t’ve been responsible is Aunt Dean. She was upstairs with Olivia while Robert was wandering around downstairs in the dark with a flashlight. At that point, there was no body. Aunt Dean was still upstairs when Olivia came down and found the body.”
Nate canted his head towards his shoulder, looked skeptical. “If we believe everything our clients have told us thus far. They have both been less than forthcoming.”
“Right.” I inhaled deeply. “So for the moment, I see Seth as suspect number one.”
“Agreed. He had the means and the opportunity. But what was his motive?”
“Based on the information we have right now, the only thing I can come up with is mistaken identity. He could’ve seen Robert come into the house and mistaken Thurston for Robert. If Olivia could confuse the two, surely Seth could.”
“And he’d be thinking if Robert showed up at the house it was to put a stop to the blackmail.”
“Exactly,” I said. “But what would Thurston Middleton have been doing in that house to begin with? I’m going to have to talk to Aunt Dean as soon as the ladies are back from their outing.”
“Talking to her is just as likely to send rats scattering as Sonny going in there with a search warrant. If she’s an accessory to whatever Seth has done in his bouncer capacity over the years, she’ll tip him off. And surely she’s protective of her paying customers.”
“But she’ll be more protective of Olivia. Olivia is her partner, unwilling though she may be, and her heir. If I can convince her my only agenda is to protect Olivia, she might talk to me and keep it quiet.”
Nate was quiet for a moment. “That will work better if Olivia goes with you.”
I winced, shook my head. “T
hat’s too risky. She’s too much of a loose cannon. But by then we’ll have cameras live and the landline tapped. With Olivia’s consent, it’s like putting the whole house on a nanny cam. What Miss Dean does after I leave will tell us a great deal.”
Nate pulled the binoculars out of a black duffle bag, adjusted the focus, and scanned every angle available from the window. “So if Seth is suspect number one, who do you make for suspect number two?”
“As much as I wish we could, we can’t exclude Olivia.”
“No, we cannot. She had means and opportunity. It’s possible she killed Thurston for some unknown motive, but if it was her, it’s more likely that she mistook him for Robert, even when he was upright.”
“I just can’t see that. Olivia is volatile, no doubt. But she seems crazy about Robert, and vice versa. She was nearly catatonic when she thought he was dead.”
He raised both eyebrows, then pulled a chair up to the camera so he could sit and look at the flip out screen. He adjusted the camera. “I can get shots of the license plate from any car turning into the drive. If someone street parks, I may have to go downstairs to get the right angle. Bring me up to speed. What else’ve you come up with so far?”
I filled him in on Seth and the house, how Olivia’s story held up that far. “I got Olivia’s email with the girls’ first names and the last names they go by—those of their benefactors. Suspects three through seven are Amber Calhoun, Wendi Gibbes, Dana Huger, Heather Prioleau, and Lori Russell.”
“And there are five other men, patrons of the establishment all, with last names of Calhoun, Gibbes, Huger, Prioleau, and Russell, who may also have had a motive to kill either Thurston or Robert.”
“When you say it like that I get queasy.” I turned back to my laptop.
“So first we need to figure out if Mr. Middleton expired inside that house. The next two questions: If he did, was he the intended victim, or was he in the wrong place at the wrong time; and who had a motive to kill him or Robert.”
“What a godawful mess.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Scanning my notes, I said, “In addition to the previously mentioned twelve suspects, it’s possible one of the residents had an old boyfriend or other family member who was on a mission to get her out of there and somehow had an altercation with Thurston. You can never rule out the spouse, of course. And then there’s the final possibility, an unidentified third party was in the house for reasons unknown, with intent to kill one of the two men, or who possibly fell into a misunderstanding.”
Nate stared at the camera screen. “And then there’s Raylan.”
“Olivia’s brother? How did he get involved in all this?”
“Well, he’s just gotten out of the passenger side of your brother’s car across the street. Do you want to go ask him, or shall I?”
“Blake? Sonavabitch. Blake is out there?” I sat the pillows and my laptop on the floor and scrambled out of the chair, searching the street from my window. I grabbed my phone and tapped Blake’s name in my favorites list. On the street below, he reached into his pocket, glanced at the screen of his phone, then returned it to his pocket. On my end of the line, I heard his voicemail greeting.
“Ooooh! I cannot believe he just sent me to voicemail. I’m going down there.”
“Probably best. I’ve only met Raylan that once, at our engagement party. And I really don’t want to get between you and Blake this close to the wedding if you don’t mind.”
I headed for the door. “Open the window. Get his attention. Keep them on the street.”
I flew down the stairs and through the foyer, catching a glimpse of Annelise and several other people in the living room. I had no time to worry about what they thought.
From the front porch, I saw Blake and Raylan Beauthorpe looking up at the third-floor windows of the bed and breakfast. Thank heaven. Nate must’ve gotten their attention.
I raised my hand and waved. “Merry Christmas, y’all.” I hurried down the steps.
Blake squinted. Then his face broke out in disbelief. Raylan, a study in bewilderment, looked to Blake for guidance.
Blake started across the street. Raylan followed.
“Liz. What in the hell are you doing?” My brother’s heart clearly was not filled with the joy of the season.
“I’m working a case. You’re out of your jurisdiction.” Blake was the Stella Maris Chief of Police. “What are you doing? Hey, Raylan.”
“Hey, Liz.” Raylan looked worried, and a little scared.
“Walk with me.” Blake nodded north on Church Street.
I grabbed his arm. “This way.” I pulled him towards the walk-thru gate into the side yard of the bed and breakfast. “Let’s get off the street.”
He retrieved his arm, cast me a look brothers reserved for younger sisters, and followed, muttering something under his breath Mamma would not have approved of.
Raylan tagged behind him, casting nervous looks all around.
When we were shielded by masonry fence columns and trees, I repeated, “What are you doing here?”
“You first.” I recognized Blake’s mule look. His eyes, the same cobalt blue as mine, held a challenge.
I blew out a breath. “I’m working a case, for heaven’s sake.”
Raylan said, “Did Olivia come to you? I tried to get her to do that weeks ago and she wouldn’t.”
“Yes, she did.” I looked at Blake.
“I came with Raylan to try to reason with the blackmailer. He’s here as Olivia’s brother. I’m here as his friend, not in an official capacity. Safety in numbers.”
I turned to Raylan. “When did Olivia tell you Seth was blackmailing her?”
“About a month ago. She’s been hiding this from Robert for years, but it’s getting harder to conceal. The money’s adding up. Lately she’s been…distraught. I just wanted to help.” I couldn’t help noticing how much Raylan favored Olivia. He was a good bit older—closer to Seth’s age. But his blond hair and aristocratic features were classic Beauthorpe.
“Have you tried talking to Seth before? Alone?”
Raylan looked away. “Yeah. I came by last night.”
“Aw, hell, Raylan,” Blake said.
Hell’s bells. Was everyone in Charleston County in the whorehouse last night? “What time?”
“About seven twenty.”
My stomach clenched. “Seriously? Where did you park?”
“Over on Murray. I didn’t want my car seen in front of that house.”
“Why not? Your aunt lives there. The house has been in your family for years.”
Raylan flushed. “You must know what goes on in there.”
I nodded. Of course I knew. I was just verifying that he knew why Olivia was being blackmailed. “So did you talk to Seth?”
“I did. He and I used to be close, when we were little. He spent a lot of time at my grandparents’ house. My grandfather and his grandmother were brother and sister. I thought I could reason with him. Appeal to his family loyalty. Apparently, he has none. He can’t get past our aunts not leaving the house to him.”
“Where did you talk to him?” I asked.
“In the guesthouse out back. That’s where he lives.”
“How long were you there?” I asked.
Raylan shrugged. “Twenty minutes. It was a short, ugly conversation.”
I felt my face squinch up in confusion.
“And when you left, you didn’t see Olivia’s car out front, with her in it?”
“Her car was there when I arrived. I thought that was odd. It crossed my mind she might’ve gone to see Seth. Maybe she was trying to handle him on her own. That scared me. I hurried on back to the guesthouse. Thankfully, Olivia wasn’t there. I figured she was visiting Aunt Dean, maybe trying to talk t
o her about Seth. When I came out, her car was still there. I didn’t see Olivia, but it was dark.”
“Other than last night, have you ever been inside that house?” I asked.
“Naturally. Like you said, it’s been in our family for generations. It only became…what it is now over the last fifteen to twenty years.”
“Have you tried to talk to Seth before last night about blackmailing your sister?”
“No.”
I nodded, mulled. “Blake, if a Stella Maris citizen is being blackmailed by a Charlestonian, you could arrest him, right?”
“Sure. I’d ask a Charleston PD officer to accompany me to make the arrest.”
“But if the suspect was in Stella Maris, you could just arrest him, right?”
“Of course. But I thought Olivia didn’t want to file a complaint.”
“She may change her mind. Listen, Nate’s upstairs. We have the house under surveillance. There are extenuating circumstances.”
Blake said, “There always are with you. Do they involve the body over in White Point Gardens?”
“You don’t want me to answer that.”
He nodded rapidly, managing to look both satisfied and seriously pissed off. “You need to give whatever you have to Sonny and step away. Olivia is going to have to put on her big girl…shoes…and face this. She hasn’t broken any laws.” He looked away. “That I know of.”
Raylan’s voice held a plea. “Blake, that’s my baby sister. You have two of those. You understand. If there’s anything we can do to protect her…”
Blake hitched up one side of his mouth. “Therein lies the problem, Raylan. That,” he jabbed a finger at me, “is my little sister. And I can’t have her breaking the law, maybe going to jail, to save Olivia a little embarrassment.”
“Hold on, both of y’all,” I said. “I have a plan. Blake, I’m not breaking any laws. Just give me until the end of the day tomorrow, then I’ll turn everything over to Sonny. I promise.” I neglected to mention the wiretapping thing. If we planned to listen to Olivia’s calls, we were covered by her request form. Aunt Dean’s calls were another matter.
04 Lowcountry Bordello Page 6
