Authors: Susan M. Boyer
“Did Gram know about this?” She must have—that would explain Merry’s name on Gram’s list.
“Daddy might have told her. I didn’t.”
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“Adam wanted to pursue blackmailing Daddy, but Scott vetoed it.”
“Huh. Scott knows Daddy well enough to know he’d never be blackmailed.”
“I guess. But he must have had four other votes wrapped up if he had a card he could choose not to play.”
Merry sucked in a deep breath and blew it out, making her lips vibrate in a
pflubbbbb
noise. “I need a drink and a bubble bath.”
Colleen patted my arm. “You need to go soak a while, too. Take some aspirin, and that nap you never got around to this morning. That was a nasty fall you took out of that tree.”
FORTY-SEVEN
I took Colleen’s advice: bubble bath, nap, and aspirin. Then I accepted Michael’s dinner invitation. In the wake of his brother’s death and the preceding adultery-related blow-up between the two of them, Michael needed a friend. One he wouldn’t have to explain things to. I suspected he had other things on his mind as well. My emotions were a jumble, and I didn’t have the luxury of time to sort them out just then. But I had questions for Michael.
We were at The Pirates’ Den, tucked away in a corner table with a great view of the ocean. It was a hard question to ask the man you’ve been in love with your whole adult life, especially given our recent history, but it had to be asked. “Do you think it’s possible your father’s alive?”
Michael choked on his margarita. “What would make you ask that?”
Thunder, no longer distant, rolled from south to north and back.
“I think I had coffee with him this morning.”
“And where exactly did you and Dad have coffee?”
“On his sailboat.”
“His sailboat.” Michael dipped his chin and looked at me from under raised brows. “Are you seeing ghosts now?”
Oh boy. We weren’t going there. “I went for a walk, early this morning, before breakfast. I walked past the marina and he was out on his boat, stretching. Something about him was so familiar.” I squelched an impulse to reach for Michael’s hand. “It’s obvious to me now why. You have his eyes and his build.”
“Liz, this is crazy. Why would he pretend to be dead for twenty-five years and show up the same day Adam is killed? Do you know how insane that sounds?”
“I don’t have any idea why, but Gram knew he was alive.”
“How do you know that?”
Before I could answer, Blake pulled up a chair. “Mind if I join you?” Blake raised his hand to our waitress. She made her way across the room. “Another glass and a pitcher of margaritas, please, Casey.”
Blake leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Long day.” He nodded at me. “Coop radioed me the minute he discovered you and Merry snuck out on him. What did you do, drive through the backyard?”
“I was careful of Mamma’s flowers.”
He shook his head.
“Hey,” I said. “Did you ever talk to the mayor and the council members?”
“Some of them.” He nodded. “As you mentioned, the mayor’s wife never did study art history at Converse College. Mildred got her degree in exotic dancing. Mayor would’ve done about anything to keep that quiet. And I gave him my word that I would.”
Michael took a long drink from his glass.
“And,” Blake said, “Mackie in fact has some gambling-related financial problems that most likely would’ve been used to convince him to fill Grace’s seat and vote any way Adam wanted. But we’ll never know for sure.”
John Glendawn delivered the margaritas himself. He placed the large pitcher in the middle of the table and set a glass down in front of Blake. A few seconds later, John was back with a large platter of chilled shrimp. “This’ll hold you for a while.” We smiled tired, grateful smiles and handed around plates.
“I got several interesting emails this afternoon,” Blake said quietly.
“All the evidence you need should be there.”
“I’m not sure how admissible it will be. You were obviously breaking and entering into his hotel room,” Blake said.
Out of nowhere, Merry dropped into a chair and popped a shrimp into her mouth. “We were not. Alicia gave us the key.”
“But you were uninvited.”
“No we weren’t,” I said. “He specifically invited me.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them.
Michael tensed beside me.
I looked directly at him, but spoke to the table. “Everyone here knows how much I detest Scott Andrews. We were there to look for evidence, which we found. As a legal point, however, he gave me an open invitation. And, he hasn’t changed the password on his computer. He is well aware I know it.”
“You should have seen how she got us out of there—” Merry laughed.
I kicked her under the table. I didn’t know yet what the future held for Michael and me. But I didn’t want him believing I’d been cavorting with my ex-husband, a man Michael despised.
Blake said, “Michael and I did some research this afternoon. Get this. The board of directors for the New Life Foundation of South Carolina consists of Scott, Adam, and Marci. The majority stock holder is New Life Resorts, which is a whole different animal.”
Michael said, “It’s a chain. They do luxury resorts, with a twist. All of their properties are in remote areas, and they are into that New Age stuff. I think Shirley McClain might’ve done some of their ads. They sell this back-to-nature, cure-what-ails-you, and talk-to-your-dead-relatives kind of package to the enlightened wealthy set.”
Blake said, “Adam was apparently willing to do about anything to bring one of their properties to Stella Maris.”
John pulled up a chair and piled some shrimp on a plate for himself. “I can vouch for that.”
Four versions of surprised look stared at him.
“What do you mean?” Blake asked.
“He tried to blackmail me to vote for the damned fool idea,” John said.
“How?” I asked. “With what?” I couldn’t fathom what would make John Glendawn vulnerable to blackmail. It couldn’t be something that happened when he was a kid.
John snorted. “He seemed to be sufferin’ under the notion that because of that trouble Stuart and me got into three lifetimes ago with Hayden Causby that he could threaten to hide some drugs here, and then phone in an anonymous tip and have me busted. Seemed to think folks would believe I was running drugs out of the restaurant. I never intended go along, but I’m sure he thought I would.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” I asked.
John shrugged. “I figured if he tried that stunt, I’d just tell the truth and let Blake here sort it out. I’m an old man. It just seemed too farfetched anyone would take me for a drug dealer. Now maybe that was risky, but that’s the way I was gonna play it.”
“Looks like he thought he had a lock on several votes.” Blake gave me a sideways glance. “But they didn’t count on Liz moving home.”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure they ever counted on the Simmons vote. For sure, that’s the way Marci wanted things to go down, and it would have benefitted Adam, given him more leverage. But I’m not convinced that was ever part of the plan. Scott was too unconcerned about me being here, taking the seat.”
Merry said, “He just thought he could handle you.” She smothered a grin.
Blake shook his head. “They were looking to develop Devlin land. If they weren’t after Gram’s vote, why would they kill her?”
I set down my glass. “I’m not sure they did.”
“You think somebody else had a completely different motive?”
“I’m not sure yet,” I said. I didn’t want to get into that just then. I was still processing the possibilities. “But if her murder wasn’t part of their scheme, by process of elimination, the other council member being blackmailed would have to be Robert.”
The table was quite for a few moments while we chewed on that thought along with our shrimp. Casey arrived to take our dinner orders. Craving comfort food, I ordered my favorite, shrimp and grits. Most everyone else went with the lowcountry boil, a regional concoction of shrimp, andouille sausage, corn on the cob, potatoes and whatever else John felt like throwing in the pot, cooked in beer and spices. One of the house specialties.
“What I don’t get is who killed Adam?” Michael said. “It doesn’t make sense it was one of his partners.”
“Sure it does,” I said. I stopped myself. I was too tired to filter my mouth. Anything related to Deanna’s involvement with Troy and everything Colleen was off limits.
Blake said, “It could’ve been one of them. Everyone he was blackmailing also had a motive, but I’d bet my last dollar none of them are killers.” He raised an eyebrow at John. “I’m also betting they have alibis.”
John set down his glass. “I was here until after 2:00 a.m. It takes a while to put this place to bed. A couple of the boys who work in the kitchen were here. Besides, I told you, I wasn’t playing his game.”
“No offense,” Blake said. “I’m just checking off my list. That’s what they pay me for.”
John nodded.
“So.” Michael stared at his margarita. “Looks like the three remaining mysteries are: Did Adam and Scott have your grandmother killed, what did they have on Robert, and who killed my brother? I swear it wasn’t me, my solid motive and lack of alibi notwithstanding.”
Michael picked up his drink, then paused, glass midair, and met Blake’s gaze. “Another thing I don’t get is how he thought he was going to get this by Mamma. I mean, after she donated the land, was he just going to turn around and say, ‘Guess what, you’ve been had?’ Mamma was dead-set against any resort. She would’ve had twenty lawyers on top of that, screaming fraud.”
I said, “Adam must’ve thought of that. No doubt he had a contingency plan. Whatever it was, we may never know.”
Michael shrugged. “True.”
Casey delivered dinner. We were all famished, and a contented silence settled over the table while we dug into our entrées. When I came up for air, I nudged Blake. “I know the whole state is looking for Troy by now, but what about Scott?”
“I had Sam swing by the hotel an hour ago. He wasn’t there, but he hadn’t checked out, either. Alicia’s supposed to call if he comes back. I had Nell send out an APB on him, too. At the least, he’s involved in a conspiracy to commit murder, attempted murder, and blackmail.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “He was still on the island as of early this afternoon, and he had no reason to leave. He had no clue we were on to him.”
Merry smirked. “Yeah, Liz did a good job of convincing him of that.”
Merry was fortunate I had not yet developed the ability to fire death rays from my eyes.
“He’ll turn up,” Blake said. “He’s too arrogant to believe us backwoods yokels would figure out what he’s up to.”
“What about his flunky?” I asked. “David Morehead.”
“We have an APB out on him, too. But no one’s seen him since Tuesday night. He could be anywhere by now.”
Michael put down his fork and napkin and looked at Blake. “Liz and I were going to head back to Mamma’s. Check on her and Deanna and the girls. You want to come along, see if Deanna is up to talking?”
“Are you about ready?” Blake glanced at Michael.
“Whenever you are.”
John stood and gathered a tray full of dishes. “I’m just going to check on things in the kitchen.”
As soon as John was out of earshot, Merry turned to Michael. “Michael, would you ride with us over to Blake’s office for a minute, please?”
“
What?
” Blake scowled.
“Merry,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’ve already spoken to Michael about this.”
Michael looked from me to Merry. “I don’t understand.”
“I wondered if you’d take a look at my grandmother’s locket, at the picture inside,” Merry said.
“Why?” Michael and Blake spoke at the same time.
I put my hand on Michael’s arm. “This is what I started to tell you. We think the man in the picture is your father.”
“What?”
“This is too much, even from the two of you.” Blake slid back his chair.
“Just listen. Merry and I went over to Gram’s this afternoon. We were looking for something that would give us an idea of who this man in the locket is. What we found was…most unexpected. There was a large box filled with letters. Love letters, going back about fifteen years.”
“From who?” Michael asked.
“They were each signed ‘All my love, Stuart.’”
Michael shrugged. “That’s a common name.”
“Yes, but…well, we read a few of the letters.” I pulled one of the letters from my purse and offered it to Michael.
Michael stared at me wordlessly. He did not reach for letter.
Merry plowed ahead. “Unless there was another Stuart who lived on Stella Maris until twenty-five years ago, who knew Gram, and had children named Adam and Michael, who was married to a Kate, then your father is alive.”
FORTY-EIGHT
The storm that had threatened all evening settled in just after dark. Blake, Michael, Merry and I dashed across the parking lot of The Pirates’ Den through the driving rain and jumped into Michael’s Jeep Cherokee. Michael grasped the steering wheel tightly with both hands for a moment, and then started the engine and turned on the headlights and windshield wipers.
From out of nowhere, a figure covered from head to toe in a hooded, yellow rain slicker appeared on a bicycle in front of the Jeep. The rider skidded to a stop just before Michael put the car in gear. “What the devil?” He rolled down his window as the figure abandoned his bike where it lay and ran up to the side of the Jeep.
“Michael,” Elvis yelled. “Where’s Chief Blake?”
Blake leaned across the console. “Right here, Elvis. What’s wrong?”
“I almost missed you,” Elvis said. “Miss Nell told me you were over here having dinner. I couldn’t get you on the radio.”
“I guess I didn’t hear it in the restaurant, Elvis.
What’s wrong?
”
“It’s the Phantom. I trailed him back to where he lives. I just saw him. He’s on this pretty boat down at the marina. I had him staked out. But Miss Nell wouldn’t call you. Hurry, before he leaves.” Elvis started moving back towards his bike.
“That’s him.” I reached around the seat and grabbed Michael’s arm. “That’s the guy I had coffee with this morning. That’s Stuart Devlin. It’s got to be. Go, Michael.”
Merry reached over and slapped Michael several times on the shoulder for emphasis.
Blake said, “Elvis, go inside and get dry. Your mamma will skin me alive if I let you go chasing off in this rain.”
“But Chief Blake—” Elvis protested.
“I’ll go over there right now and check it out, okay? Good job, buddy. You did a real good job. Now go inside.”
“You’ll go right now?” Elvis asked.
“I’m on my way,” Blake said.
Michael rolled up the window. We waited long enough to see Elvis pick up his bike and head towards the front door of the restaurant.
“Will you please step on it?” Merry slapped Michael’s shoulder again.
“Esmerelda, if you don’t stop beating Michael like your mule I will get out of this car and open your door and physically remove you from the backseat and place you, none too gently, on the asphalt.” Even as Blake said the words, Michael backed out of the parking place and headed towards the marina.
“No.” Colleen appeared between Merry and me. “Deanna’s in trouble. She went home. You have to go there now. ” As suddenly as she had appeared, she vanished.
“I think we should see about Deanna first,” I said. “She might have decided to go home. We should go on over there now, before it gets any later. Then we can go by the marina.”
Michael didn’t take his eyes off the road. “No,” he said. “We settle this now.”
“Michael, please. I’ve got a bad feeling—”
Blake started dialing his phone. “I’ll call and check on things.” He spoke to Grace for a few moments, and then hung up. “Deanna got Sam to take her home an hour ago. Said she needed to be alone.”
“That’s odd she’d leave Holly and Isabella tonight.”
Blake shrugged. “The girls are asleep at Kate’s. Doc gave them a sedative.” He pressed the talk button on his radio. “Sam?”
“Yeah, Blake?” Static distorted Sam’s voice.
“You at Adam Devlin’s?”
“Right out front.”
“Stay there. Call me if you see anyone near that house.”
“Roger that.”
We drove silently for a few moments, the air inside the car electric with the anticipation. I tried calling Deanna. I knew if Colleen said she was in trouble I needed to get over there fast. But how to make Michael and Blake believe me? “Deanna’s not answering, and voicemail didn’t pick up. Please, can we just swing by there?”
Michael didn’t answer. There was someplace else he had a compelling need to go.