With a sigh, I picked up my dad’s old Bible. I’d found it in a storage shed where he’d left some of his most prized possessions before he disappeared, and I now kept it on my end table. When I felt blue, I picked it up. Right now, as memories washed over me, I rubbed the leather cover.
My dad had used this Bible. A lot. I wondered if he’d pored over the words of comfort found here after my mom abandoned us. I wondered if he’d felt those same emotions—that same sense of abandonment—when I’d left for Hollywood. When I’d told him I never wanted to see him again.
That couldn’t be our last conversation. It just couldn’t.
Tears pushed to my eyes.
I opened the well-used book and saw my dad’s handwriting scrawled on the edges of the pages. He’d taken notes and underlined his favorite verses. He was such a man of faith. He’d chased God. You know whom I’d chased? Myself. That needed to change.
Sure, in some ways I was looking out for Cora by doing this investigation. But I couldn’t sustain this lifestyle of being a wannabe investigator forever. None of it was meant to be permanent. None of it was supposed to happen at all, for that matter.
But now I’d been roped into not only this mystery but the mystery of my father’s disappearance. On top of those things, my mother had reappeared in a photo I’d found belonging to my dad. Was she somehow involved in all of this? After all, her modeling career had never taken off. What had she done?
When I’d been a teenager, I’d Googled her a few times, but nothing had ever come up. It was almost like she’d been wiped off the face of the earth.
Nothing made sense.
I glanced down and saw one verse in particular was highlighted. Isaiah 40:31. But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.
I closed my eyes. Was my dad sending me a message, even though he was nowhere near? Because those words were just what I needed to hear.
I needed to keep on pressing forward, no matter how much of a failure I felt like.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I did some haircuts the next morning. When I was done, I made a trip to Manteo as a part of my Operation Requestion the Supposedly Innocent.
I was starting with Andre. I’d overheard Jackson talking, and I knew this was where the faux photographer lived. He’d made it sound like he came down from New York, but he hadn’t. He’d moved here a few months ago from Arkansas, probably to find a new group of people to prey on. I’d also found out that his name really wasn’t Andre Delacroix but Andrew Delaware. Some people.
And I had questions for him.
I marched right up to his little white bungalow, located on a decent piece of property on the outskirts of Manteo. I wondered if he’d paid for this place with money from his scams. What he was doing was despicable.
Andre answered the door with a camera draped across his bare chest. I heard a female in the background, and I didn’t even try to hide my eye roll.
His smile quickly disappeared when he recognized me. He tried to shut the door, but my hand jetted out and blocked him. It was a Raven move, and I didn’t know I had it in me.
“We need to talk,” I said.
His hand remained on the door, and he kept pushing. I kept pushing back. If he was innocent, why was he so defensive?
“Is that necessary?” he whispered. “Didn’t we already talk? Maybe I could show you some of the photos I took of you instead?”
“You already sold those to the Instigator, didn’t you?”
His cheeks reddened, and I knew I’d hit on the truth. Apparently, even though he’d dropped the device into the water, either he’d been able to salvage the SD card, or he’d used technology that had instantly transferred his pictures to a server of some sort.
“I could sue you for invasion of privacy,” I told him. I didn’t know if that was the truth or not, but I’d bet Andre didn’t know either.
He raised his hands. “I’m just a guy trying to make some extra cash. You can’t fault me for that.”
“Sure I can, especially when you try to make cash by exploiting others. That’s what you thrive on.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Andre, is everything okay?” a female said in the distance.
I glanced beyond him and saw a woman in a bikini standing at the back of the house. I’d bet my two eye teeth she was another client in the middle of a photo shoot.
“Oui, oui, ma cherie!” Andre said, slipping back into French mode.
“He’s not French,” I called over his shoulder.
Andre ran a hand over his face before giving me a dirty look. “Must you?”
“Baby?” She stepped closer, a pouty expression on her face. “What’s she talking about?”
“Ma cherie.” Andre turned toward her and smiled warmly. “We shall talk later, mon amour. Don’t listen to this crazy woman.”
The well-endowed woman stepped even closer, squinting as she saw me. “Hey, aren’t you that famous girl?”
“I am.”
Her jaw went slack, and a starstruck look grazed her eyes. “Cool. What are you doing here? Lining up photos with Andre?”
I scowled at Andre. “Something like that.”
“Well, he’s the best.”
“I will be right there, ma cherie.” Andre pointed in the distance, obviously trying to dismiss her. “Hydrate up so your face doesn’t look dry.”
The woman nodded and wandered to the back of the house.
“How did Cora pay you?” I continued when the woman was gone.
Andre’s gaze darkened. “Cash.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Did she?”
I raised my phone, the camera app open, and began snapping pictures of him.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, putting a hand in front of his face to block me.
“I’m crafting my own story to sell to the media. About the con artist posing as a photographer with a mermaid fetish.”
He lowered his arms, desperation in his gaze. “No! It’s not like that! I’ll talk. I promise.”
I paused from taking photos but kept my phone locked and loaded. “Then talk.”
“Cora promised she would pay me later. She said she was going to come into some money.”
Interesting. “Did she say how?”
“I have no idea. But I do know that her fingernails were dirty.”
“What?” Had I heard him correctly?
“That’s right. You’d think if someone was going to pay me that much that she’d take the whole thing more seriously. But no, she came to the session looking like she’d been at the farm, and she didn’t seem to care.”
Siegfried had dirty hands at the party. Was there a connection? It was an idea worth exploring.
“Let’s get back to the payment. What happened?” Money truly was the root of so much evil, time and time again.
“She said just that she’d pay me later. I didn’t believe her. I told her I needed to be paid on the spot. That was our deal. In cash.”
“The government can’t track cash as easily, huh?” Tax evasion. It angered me. Probably because taxes were a thorn in my side right now. But I’d sacrificed nearly all my material possessions to make things right. I was paying my dues, and everyone else should also.
His cheeks reddened again.
I got a rush of courage and knew there was no going back. I leaned closer and made my voice deeper, more menacing. “When Cora couldn’t pay you, you got mad and killed her. Am I right?”
“No! That’s ridiculous. I wouldn’t kill over something like this.”
“I’m not sure I believe you. If you lie about one thing, who’s to say you won’t lie about everything.” My dad had taught me that. It was called integrity, and it wasn’t overrated. “I have a feeling your supposed alibi was one of your fan-club members who’d been promised the world in return for her compliance in the matter. With a little pressure,
she’ll cave.”
“I’m not lying.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Look, as Cora was leaving, she grabbed her bag and something fell out into the sand.”
“What was it?”
He sighed before reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out something so small I barely saw it. “This.”
“What is that?” I leaned closer. It was a purple stone of some sort. Semiprecious, if I had to guess. Amethyst?
“I thought it looked valuable. I figured this could be my payment. I took it to a jeweler, and it turns out it’s a purple diamond.”
A purple diamond? I’d heard about them. They were expensive. Very expensive. “Why would Cora have that? She worked at the 99 Center and was struggling to make ends meet.”
“I have no idea. But I considered us even.”
I locked gazes with him. “Why didn’t you tell the police about that? You know Cora’s missing.”
He glanced back at his bikini-clad friend and then stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Because I knew how it would look. They’d think I killed her. I’m just a man trying to make a living.”
Yeah, I didn’t know about that.
I called Jackson as soon as I left and asked him to let the right people know. This town wasn’t his jurisdiction, or I was sure he’d be here himself.
Andre may not have killed Cora, but he definitely needed to be brought in for questioning.
“Start over,” Jackson told me as I sat in the station across from him.
He’d insisted I come in right away.
“Cora had a diamond,” I told him, ticking off facts with my fingers. “It fell out of her bag, and Andre grabbed it. She was also obsessed with Nags Head Woods—more so lately, but she’d always liked it there.”
“Okay, keep going.”
“Meanwhile, she bought an umbrella stand. I didn’t put this together at first, but I swung by 7-Eleven on the way here for a better look. The umbrella stand she bought had a little shovel thing at the end, designed to allow users to dig into the sand. But Cora could also use it to dig into dirt, if she needed to. It was something that wouldn’t be too obvious if she was carrying it with her. No one would really ask questions if they saw her with it.”
“I’m with you still.”
“I’ve been told that a sea captain and his family used to live at Nags Head Woods,” I continued. “When I think of sea captains, I think of people who may have encountered pirates and the like. And I know this is going to sound farfetched, but hear me out. What if one of those sea captains found some treasure and buried it?”
“How would Cora have found out about that?”
“She overheard Siegfried talking about it at one of Billy’s parties. Siegfried is a historian, and he’s writing a book about this area. He’s been reading some old journals. I don’t know the details yet—like how Cora found the diamonds before anyone else did. But she found them. And Siegfried knew that. He tracked her down, and now he has her somewhere.”
Jackson leaned back. “It’s an interesting theory.”
“But it’s a decent one.”
I held my breath as I waited for his response. He couldn’t argue with that fact. He just couldn’t.
Finally, he nodded. “You’re right. It is. We need to find out some more information.”
Satisfaction exploded inside me. “I think we should talk to Ryan, Siegfried’s brother. He’s always been in his sibling’s shadow. Maybe he knows something he’ll be willing to share.”
“Let’s go then.”
My eyebrows shot up. “You’re going to let me go with you?”
“You’ve got us this far. Let’s see if your lead pans out.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ryan answered the door to the rental where he and his brother were staying. Thankfully, Jackson had been able to track down their temporary accommodations through some local realtors.
“You again.” He stared at me before looking at Jackson. “And you are?”
“Detective Jackson Sullivan. Can we speak to you a minute?”
“What’s this about?”
“We can do this out here, but it would be better if we went inside,” Jackson said.
Ryan pulled the door back. “Sure. Come on in.”
“Is your brother here?”
Ryan shook his head. “No, he’s out doing more research.”
Perfect! I remained quiet, just as I’d promised. But I was secretly salivating for answers.
Once we were inside, Ryan didn’t offer us a place to sit. Instead, we stood awkwardly in the living room.
“What’s going on?” Ryan got right to the point. His eyes narrowed with focus.
Jackson rested his hands at his side, slipping with ease into detective mode. “Ryan, can you verify that your brother was in Raleigh last Sunday?”
“Of course he was there,” Ryan said.
“For how long?”
Ryan shrugged and looked to the right, as if trying to recall details. “He did a lecture in the morning.”
“So when did he come back?” Jackson continued.
He released a long breath. “I don’t know. He probably got back here around two. I think it was just after I finished lunch. I didn’t go with him this time since it was such a short trip.”
Two. I did a mental calculation. Cora’s photo session was at three. I’d found the mermaid tail at five. I’d say that was enough time to do something nefarious.
“Did your brother remain here?” Jackson asked.
Ryan’s jaw locked, and he shook his head. “You’re going to need to tell me more before I say anything else.”
“Listen, we’re trying to locate a girl that went missing from Nags Head Woods. We believe she might be connected with your brother. Time is of the essence right now.”
Ryan swung his head back and forth, an incredulous look on his face. “You think Siegfried has something to do with it?”
“He’s a person of interest.”
“That’s crazy. My brother would never do anything illegal.”
“So where was he? Remember you’ll be impeding a police investigation if you lie to me.” Jackson’s voice changed from friendly to authoritative in 5.2.
Ryan’s face turned as hard as stone—until he cracked and swung his head back and forth again. “He wasn’t here. But that doesn’t mean he was hurting anyone or doing anything illegal.”
“Where was he?” Jackson asked.
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask. I prefer not to be my brother’s keeper, despite how it may look.”
“How’d he get dirty fingernails?” I asked, breaking my stay-silent rule again.
This time Jackson didn’t scowl at me, for some reason.
Ryan squeezed his eyes shut, as if guilt closed in. “I don’t know. I find it’s better if I don’t ask. He’s been researching the area, and sometimes he gets a little obsessed. He’s been disappearing for hours at a time.”
Jackson and I exchanged a look. It sounded like Siegfried was our guy.
Ryan ran a hand through his hair and released a guttural moan. “I hope he hasn’t done anything stupid. It all started with this.”
He pulled something from his pocket—a paper—and unfolded it. On the other side was a picture of a triangle with the letters S. M. above it and an arrow through the center. Simon Mullit. One of the people who’d lived in Nags Head Woods. A sea captain.
“What is that?” Jackson asked, staring at the paper.
“He’s been reading some old journals. One of them was from the family who used to live in Nags Head Woods, and it claimed that two treasures had been buried by trees bearing this symbol. He’s been obsessed with it ever since then.”
Everything was starting to make sense. Cora must have found one of those treasures, and now Siegfried was desperately searching for the other.
“Where is Siegfried now?” Jackson asked, his muscles bristling so quickly that I could sense the change in the air.
“He said
he was going hiking.” He fidgeted and pushed his glasses higher. “What should I do?”
“Nothing,” Jackson said. “Stay here. Act as if you know nothing if your brother returns.”
Jackson and I started down the path at Nags Head Woods. I’d called Zane, who was in the middle of showing houses, and asked him if he’d ever seen that symbol that Ryan showed us. He seemed like a logical person to ask since he’d spent hours wandering these woods as a child.
And he did know.
He told us exactly how to get there.
I had a feeling this windfall Cora had mentioned was not only connected with Nags Head Woods but also with that purple diamond Andre had found. Was there also a connection with those holes Jackson and I had seen that night while searching for vandals here on the property? I thought it was a strong possibility.
“Good job with all of this, by the way,” Jackson said, shining his light on the path in front of us.
“It pains you to say that, doesn’t it?”
“Real life isn’t like TV, Joey. In real life people get hurt when they get nosy. You’re not trained to do this, and don’t tell me your acting coach taught you everything you need to know.”
“How’d you know I was going to say that?”
Jackson cast me a look, and I smiled.
“You always do that, you know,” he said.
“Do what?”
“Smile and make everything better.”
For some reason, his words caused warmth to spread through me and joy to fill my chest. Which was ridiculous.
I remained quiet as we hiked down the narrow path, with darkness hanging around us and filling every visible inch.
“Can I ask a question?” Jackson shoved a branch out of the way.
“Of course.”
“What’s going on with you and Zane?”
“Me and Zane?” His question threw me off guard. “Nothing. Why?”
“You’re not dating?”
I shook my head. “No, we’re friends.”
Even though I knew Zane wanted more. Or he thought he still did, at least.
Safety in Blunders (The Worst Detective Ever Book 3) Page 16
