Deadly Intentions (23 page)

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Authors: Candice Poarch

BOOK: Deadly Intentions
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36
Brian's cell phone rang and he glanced at the number. It was the call he was waiting for. “What did you find?” he asked.
“A list of properties he owns. Man, he owns a lot of them in the Hampton Roads area. I mean a lot.”
“Can you e-mail the list? I can pick them up on my BlackBerry.”
“Will do,” the guy said.
“And I need you to go by my grandfather's place and pick up a few things for me, then bring them to the island.” He gave him the address and asked him to get the key from a neighbor.
“Good as done,” the guy said.
“Thanks, man.”
Brian closed his phone, thinking it would take a while for the e-mail to come through. He resumed his vigil of the area.
A bunch of kids had arrived. Lisa was so good with them. She listened while they gushed about the Ferris wheel and other rides.
The longer time passed the more concerned Lisa became. The worst time was when children arrived. If Nicholas shot, he could hit one of them.
She was standing on pins and needles worried that he would strike any moment. She was so glad when her uncle Cleve relieved her and she could leave.
“I want to check out the rest of the fair,” Lisa said, “but I'm nervous about being out in the open.”
“We're getting you out of here,” Brian said. “The booth was in a fairly secluded area. He didn't have a clear shot without someone noticing, but you'll be out in the open at the fair. He can come at you from several different directions.”
“I would like to eat first.”
Alyssa held out a bag. “I already have your food,” she said from her seat on her horse. She handed it down. “From Cornell.”
The horse had come up on Lisa abruptly, scaring the wits out of her. “I didn't see you approach,” she said, taking the bag. “Thanks, Alyssa. You thought of everything.”
“You're getting door-to-door service. Officer Scott Lowell is going to stay with you. Keep your curtains closed.”
“I'll take care of her,” Brian said. “Don't worry.”
Alyssa's beeper beeped. She turned it off. “Wait a minute,” she said as she punched in a number. After a few short sentences she disconnected.
“Doyle is here. He checked into Gabrielle's B and B this morning under his own name. The FBI is here, too, looking for him. You'll have extra security at the house.”
“Bold,” Brian said.
“I doubt he knows about Magdelena, that she's revealed information about him,” Alyssa said. “So I doubt he knows we're looking for him.”
“Lisa needs to get out of here now,” Brian insisted.
“I'm going to follow you home,” Alyssa said.
This time a police car arrived to pick them up. Searching around, Brian placed a hand on the middle of Lisa's back and urged her inside.
Lisa didn't like riding in the backseat like a prisoner, but she felt safer there than out in the open. She watched the crowd wistfully as the car rolled through the fair and toward the exit.
They made it home without incident.
Usually surveillance cops stayed outside in the car, but Scott stayed inside, while several FBI agents who had arrived were posted outside. Lisa and Brian ate in the kitchen, but worry kept her from enjoying the tasty fair food. Cornell had set up a booth there. Brian helped her clean up and between vigils, Scott watched sports on ESPN.
“I need some help in the kitchen,” Brian said to Lisa.
They trooped to the kitchen and Brian closed the door behind them for privacy.
“What's all the secrecy about?” Lisa wanted to know.
“Back to our earlier conversation . . .”
“I've already told you, I'm not shacking up. I like having my own home.”
“I'm not suggesting we shack up. There are a few things I want to clear up.”
Frowning, Lisa leaned against the countertop.
“I have a good career in the Navy. I went in at eighteen. I got my bachelor's degree a few years ago.”
The bottom dropped out of Lisa's stomach. No wonder he wasn't about to offer marriage—he just wanted to move in for a little play while he was on shore leave. What did a college educated guy want with her?
“So why're you telling me all this?”
“Just give me time, okay?”
Lisa clamped her mouth closed. Was this the lether-down-easy good-bye?
“I have some money saved up, enough to make things easier for you.”
Lisa bristled. “Why would you want to do that? I can take care of myself.”
“Will you marry me, Lisa? If you want me to go down on one knee, I will.”
If a tsunami had struck, Lisa wouldn't have been more surprised. “You want to marry me?” She pointed a finger at her chest.
“What did you think I was talking about? I'll be in the Navy for eight more years. For the most part we'll have a long-distance relationship, but I'll get back here whenever I can,” he assured her. “Will that bother you?”
“I'm used to being on my own.”
“But you won't be completely alone. You'll have me. And . . .” He pulled her close. “I'll have you.”
“With all the sophisticated women you meet, why on earth would you want to saddle yourself with me?”
“I love you, Lisa. I want to be with you.”
Lisa gazed at him earnestly. “I've made a lot of mistakes, Brian. Sometimes guys think they can live with that, but they want women who are more . . . ‘perfect' isn't the right word because nobody's perfect, but someone who's more together, who didn't go through the changes I've gone through.”
“I don't want to hear another negative word. And who's to say your flaws are worse than others'? You've got this ridiculous notion that everybody else walking around is nearly perfect. They aren't, Lisa. You just don't know their flaws. They keep them hidden better than you.”
Lisa shook her head. “Nobody finds trouble like I do, even when I'm not looking for it.”
“I love you, Lisa. That's all that matters.”
That brought Lisa to a complete stop. She hadn't let herself love him—at least hadn't been willing to admit it—because she believed he'd never love her in return. She'd tried to turn her heart away from it. Pretend that it didn't exist, that other things were more important. Like sex.
In the end, none of that made a difference. All along, she still wanted somebody to love her—wanted
Brian
to love her. From the beginning the sizzle was there, the certain something, the element that made the difference between a ship passing by and a keeper.
She wrapped her arms around Brian's neck. “I love you, Brian. I was just too damn scared to acknowledge it.”
He kissed her—soft and tender, deep and demanding.
“I wish we were alone.”
“Scott's into his game. We are, for all intents.”
He kissed her again, then led her to the living room. “I can't let my guard down. Too much is riding on it. Like this special lady I have to marry, and quickly. And sex will definitely muddle my mind.”
“Yeah. I can't stop thinking about what Magdelena said. That someone in the family started this whole thing. Do you think she's right?”
“You never know.”
The first name that came to mind was Jackie, but Lisa couldn't believe her cousin would act so underhanded. But Jackie was always obsessing about money. So did Lisa during her broke days. She was still broke.
“Be right back,” Lisa said. She went to the bedroom and closed the door behind her. She called Jackie's cell.
“Hey, girl. Where are you?” Jackie said as soon as she answered.
“At home. Where are you?”
“At the fair. What are you doing at home on a day like this?”
“Something came up. Listen, I just found out somebody in the family sold the bowl.”
“What?”
“Can you believe it?” Lisa asked.
A pause, then Jackie spoke. “You think I did it, don't you?”
“I haven't accused anyone. I just want to know the truth. If you did—”
“I can't believe you'd even
think
something like that about me. Just because I don't have my own business or a rich boyfriend or husband doesn't mean I would betray this family.”
“Well, whoever did it, the news is going to eventually come out. There's a killer on the island. Greg was the guy Brian shot the other night. His brother is an assassin. He's here to get revenge. If he gets revenge on us, he'll go looking for the person who tried to sell stolen goods to his brother. So that person is in as much danger as Brian and I are.”
“I wouldn't do anything to get you in trouble, Lisa. You're my best friend. I can't believe you'd think that of me,” Jackie said, and disconnected.
Well,
Lisa thought,
that certainly didn't go over well
.
She tried to think of who else might have wanted to sell the bowl and couldn't think of anyone who cared but Jackie and herself. She certainly hadn't sold it. So that left . . . Lisa sighed. She didn't have a clue of who would have sold the bowl.
The male cousins didn't care enough one way or the other. Most of them worked. Even the ones in high school and college worked for dating money, although their parents gave them allowances.
Okay. What now? She closed her phone and went to join Brian.
Nicholas had watched them leave the fair. He had no doubt they were at Lisa's house. He didn't need to follow them. He could keep an eye on his wife.
He went back to the secluded place where he'd left the car and started to change into his Nicholas clothing when he noticed a helicopter hovering over the island just before it landed.
Now what was going on? After careful consideration, Nicholas decided to keep his clothing on and return to the fair.
A half hour later he spotted plainclothes FBI agents circulating around the area. More state police had arrived.
He had no doubt they were searching for him, but why? What tipped them off? And what did they really know? Perhaps this wasn't a good time to execute his plan to the fullest. He could just deal with the woman and her lover—and come back later to take care of the others. With the FBI agents in the vicinity, it was just too risky.
He retrieved the untraceable cell phone from his pocket and called an old acquaintance in the business who had retired in Virginia Beach.
He could not merely walk up to Lisa Claxton's house and kill her and her boyfriend. Not if the police and FBI were watching her.
Deana went back to the B and B earlier than she'd planned. She'd purchased a couple of paintings she would pick up Monday before she left. The good thing about the fair was she didn't have to cart everything back with her. She could drive to the artist colony later and someone would put it in her car.
“Mrs. Doyle,” Gabrielle said, a little shaky as if she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't have. “Did you enjoy the festival?”
Deana smiled. “Very much so. I found several vases and paintings. I had a wonderful day.”
“That's good.”
“Mrs. Doyle?” a voice asked from behind her. She turned to face a huge man wearing a sheriff's uniform. Did something happen to Nicholas?
“Yes?” she asked curiously.
He extended his hand. “Sheriff Porterfield of the Paradise Sheriff's Department.”
“Sheriff?” she asked, puzzled.
“Is your husband with you?”
“I haven't seen Nicholas. I was unaware he was here until Mrs. Price mentioned that he'd already checked into our room. Is there a problem?”
“I'm afraid there is. We'd like you to come down to the sheriff's office.”
“Am I being arrested?”
“Not at this time.”
“What do you think I've done?” she asked, thinking frantically,
What the hell has Nicholas gotten me into? Why are they asking about him?
“We'll discuss it at the office.”
Deana was stunned. She sat slumped in her seat. She hadn't expected to find the FBI at the sheriff's office. After drilling her for a couple hours, they finally believed—at least partly—that she'd never been involved in her husband's crimes. The murders he'd committed started and ended long before they met.
I'm married to a murderer?
Deana couldn't wrap her mind around it. An international murderer . . . She clenched her hands in her lap. She knew Nicholas was cold, but never imagined he was capable of such atrocity.

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