Bound for the Outer Banks (27 page)

She pushed his hand away. “What are you doing?”

“I said don’t move. If you want to be a free woman again, you’ll do it,” explained Chief. As he poured more ketchup and rubbed it in to Ella’s hair he commented, “I can’t believe you eat ketchup.”

“Why? I put it on my turkey dogs,” said Ella.

Chief finished and lifted the bottle. “It has a lot of sugar.”

“What?!” Ella was aware that processed sugar was hiding in many foods but she had no idea about ketchup.

Chief heard the police car pull up and whispered, “Be still and act dead.”

Ella trusted Chief. She came to realize that she had pushed him away because their break up was inevitable anyway. She had hoped that he really was using her to make his job easier so she could have a reason to hate him, but she loved him and felt that he’d fallen in love with her too.

Ella lay stock still. Chief reached back into the refrigerator and grabbed an egg. He then crushed the egg in his hand and smeared it and its shell in Ella’s ketchup saturated hair. Chief wanted to mimic the look of skull fragments to indicate a head shot. He wanted everyone to think that there was no way Ella could have survived the shooting.

Two police officers ran up the sidewalk toward the open front door Chief had kicked in minutes earlier. “Back here!” yelled Chief. “Chogan Montauk! FBI!”

One of the officers had graduated with Samoset and knew that Chief now worked for The Bureau. Chief knelt over Ella’s body next to Bobby Lee who had stopped whimpering since Ella had regained consciousness.

“She’s dead!” yelled Chief. “I shot the intruder.” He stayed on his knees, shielding as much of Ella’s upper body as he could.

The two officers went out the backdoor and stepped down in to the backyard. Chief walked over to the back door and told the policeman that the area was a federal crime scene. “She was a federal witness,” he said to the officers.

The officers were well aware that only the FBI investigated murders of federal witnesses or federal informants.  Chief could hear one of the men call for back up to secure the scene. A few minutes later another patrol car arrived and joined the others in the backyard. They began to tape off the scene in the back and guard the front of the house. Chief had already spoken to Flynn who had dispatched agents from the Charlotte office, including a federal medical examiner.

Chief called Sam to get Bobby Lee. He asked one of the officers to take the dog and wait for Sam in the front yard of the cottage. He told Sam he would explain everything later and in Algonquian said, “No worries.” When Chief and Sam didn’t want anyone to know what they were talking about they spoke in their very limited knowledge of Algonquian their parents had taught them.

The sun had been in the sky approximately an hour when the four additional agents arrived on the island. They had flown into the small New Bern airport and rented two, large Suburban SUV’s. Although Chief locked the doors of the cottage, Ella continued to lie as still as possible dozing now and then. By now, the same local news photographer who had submitted the photo to the USA Today contest had arrived on the scene. Chief was sure the photographer would want to get any shots he could and Chief had every intention of making it easy for him.

One of the agents took photos of the crime scene. Also, measurements were taken and the forensic evidence was collected. Chief would make sure Art would be compensated for his lost deer rifle. After this, in full view of the local photographer, Chief instructed one of the agents to remove the old suitcase from the intruder’s grip and blatantly keep it in the photographer’s sight for a few moments before placing it in one of the Suburbans. After the intruder’s body was placed into a body bag, Chief lifted Ella’s limp body from the floor and exited out the backdoor. He made sure the photographer snapped several photos. He laid Ella on top of the open body bag on the stretcher. He gently tucked her feet in the bottom of the bag and slowly zipped it up all the way. Tiny perforations had been made in the bag in order for Ella to breathe. One of the agents walked over to the photographer and gave him the information Chogan instructed.

Two of the agents remained in Manteo to conclude the investigation and help local police continue to secure the crime scene. Chief crawled into the passenger’s seat of the SUV containing the body of Eleanor Augusta Barrantine. The two vehicles followed one another off the island and back to the airport in New Bern.

The front page of the next day’s Manteo newspaper featured a grainy photo with the caption
, Wanchese man, Chogan Montauk, removes the body of Eleanor Augusta Barrantine from her home on Cemetery Road.
A smaller photo at the bottom of the page depicted one of the federal agents holding Old Finnegan.

Chapter 26

Three days later the funeral Lacey had planned for her good friend took place. It turned out Ella was the daughter of her Aunt Harmony’s best friend from childhood. It was a small graveside service and a few members of the press stood a respectful distance away. In attendance were Lacey and Sam, Harmony and Raj Patel, Art and Mary Lynn, Melody Gainsborough, Desiree and her husband Steve, and Tanqueray and Dr. Vinn Sundaram who had been almost inseparable since the night of The Peacock Ball.

The casket contained a dead possum Tanqueray had bagged from the side of the road because she didn’t believe it was right to waste a casket. Harmony and Raj Patel had ordered the large spray of pink roses placed on top. Lacey was responsible for the enormous, white wreath that featured a handset and curly cord from an old black rotary phone. The red satin sash draped across the wreath read, Jesus Called.

The Rays, along with Art and Mary Lynn had also sent beautiful floral arrangements to the service. Melody’s pastor had agreed to preach the graveside service. The paper’s obituary was short and sweet.

Eleanor Augusta Barrantine, 27, died

Thursday at her residence on Cemetery Road.

She was preceded in death by her mother, Blythe

Beatty Barrantine and father Johnathan W. Barrantine.

At FBI headquarters, Old Finnegan was sent through an X-ray machine that revealed a small flash drive sewn in to the lining. It contained a list of all Dante’s “investors” and Swiss bank account numbers. Skim totals, transactions from Albanian drug deals, and arms sales were also included. Ella’s testimony was no longer needed at the trial to convict Dante and dozens of others under the RICO statute.

On Christmas Eve Chogan Montauk made a fire while Ella topped mugs of hot chocolate with miniature white marshmallows. The Christmas tree was adorned with silver, mirrored stars and mercury glass balls. The tiny white lights sparkled against the shiny decorations. Ella sat down by the tree and passed Chief his mug of hot chocolate. He handed her a small red box with a white bow. She lifted the top and found a new North Carolina driver’s license, a social security card, and a passport. The name on each document was Belle Augusta Beatty.

“All your necessary forms of identification with your official new name,” said Chief.

Lacey loved the new name Ella had picked. She said it didn’t sound as much like a porn star and it was still squarely in the luck bucket of Southern names. Tears filled Ella’s eyes. She leaned over and gave Chief a sweet kiss. He said, “One more thing.”

Chief put on his jacket and stepped out the back door. He re-entered holding a large box wrapped in blue and white snowman paper. An enormous, shimmering, silver bow topped the box. “Merry Christmas,” he said. Then he gently sat it next to Ella and the box rocked to the side. The sudden movement startled Ella.

“You’d better hurry and open it or it’s going to open itself,” said Chief.

Ella slowly lifted the top of the box which revealed a big set of brown eyes looking up at her. The creature let out a whimper. Ella reached in and lifted the large flop-eared puppy from the box. The markings were almost identical to Bobby Lee Majors. Its paws were also enormous. It was clearly a Giant Schnauzer pup.

“It’s a he,” said Chief. “He was rescued from a puppy mill in Albuquerque.”

“Albuquerque?!” Ella exclaimed.

“I’ve got connections,” Chief said, giving Ella a wink. “What are you going to name him?”

Ella thought for a minute. BeBe had often said she prayed Ella would find a Harmony in her life. Ella had now found Harmony, Melody, and everything in between. “Pax,” she responded.

Chief smiled knowing that Pax was Latin for peace. He felt the woman he had fallen madly in love with had truly finally found peace in her life. He loved her beyond measure and as far as he was concerned she would have it for the rest of her life.

The next Monday, Ella, holding a portfolio satchel in one hand and Pax’s leash in the other, entered a storefront a few doors down from The Birthplace of Pepsi Store in New Bern. The shiny brass letters on the brick turn of the century façade read
Belle of the Ball.
Belle Beatty took a seat at her desk near the storefront. Her view was out an arched window inset in a larger glass rectangle with two toned pomegranate colored mouldings. The outer edges of the glass were etched in an antique floral pattern. Behind the back wall of the office was the sewing studio. Belle opened her laptop and went to the home page of her website Belle of the Ball Gowns. The page featured a photo of Lacey, The Rays, and Melody on the steps of Tryon palace modeling Belle of the Ball dresses. In two weeks Belle Beatty was heading to New York’s garment district to purchase fabrics. Unlike the trip to China, it was a trip she would make without fail and her best friend and future sister-in-law, Lacey, was going to tag along.

Acknowledgments

I’d like to thank my kids Fallon, Celia, and Dane, who after hearing a fifteen second plotline for the book informed me I HAD to write it. They inspired me to flesh out that fifteen seconds into a novel.

I’d like to thank my husband who almost died while I was writing this book. Thank Goodness you’re still here making me laugh every day and providing me with endless entertainment. Thank you for all of your help. You are my in house assistant editor, firearms expert, and brilliant man who knows a lot about everything and doesn’t ever scream, Can’t you just google that!?

Thank you to my Aunt Norma Kizziah Hyche who is completely comfortable with any weapon and scared of nothing, including the dark and possums.

Marilyn Whitman Gibson. Thank you. You truly are a Steel Magnolia.

Rosalind Capps. Thanks for sharing your story about driving across the country to find a new place to live. Glad you landed in Blue Mountain Beach!

Thank you Jerry Croxton for all your stories, especially your stories that include your extensive knowledge about art.

Thank you Miss Kitty Croxton for your personality galore which filters in to my characters from time to time.

Ted Orvieto. Thank you and I want you to know I appreciate you not laughing at me when I asked you the boating question.

A big thanks goes to my Mom, Dorothy Kizziah Mathews, who my husband has dubbed “The Arm Sniper.” She can bag a deer at a long distance, but shooting “something else” at point blank range after a therapeutic hot toddy for pleurisy might cause an issue.

And last but not least, wait, yes definitely least. I would like to thank scumbag Stephen, my inspiration for Dante Vitali. No, I wasn’t that close to my family at the time and yes I loved to travel, but leaving the country with you after absconding with millions on your “powerful signature” wasn’t exactly a good plan to me which even I realized at 23 years old. You are the epitome of so much that I despise – a wealthy person who is ungrateful and always wanting more. But hey, thanks for the inspiration, jackass.