Deadly Intentions (3 page)

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Authors: Candice Poarch

BOOK: Deadly Intentions
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4
Lisa's face hurt like hell.
He could have found another way to get my attention
. She glared at him with mixed feelings of regret and anger. Obviously in pain, he was leaning hard on the cane. If he wasn't already looking near death's door, she'd knock the hell out of him.
That poor woman.
Lisa was so distraught over finding Harriet's body, the bowl had flown right out of her mind. Now she wondered if the thieves had taken it—if that was the purpose for breaking into this particular house.
The bowl wasn't worth all the lives that had been lost. At least three people were dead and if it was the reason for Harriet's death, the number climbed to four. It was just an antique bowl with meaning to her family more for the length of time they'd owned it than any monetary value.
She puffed on a cigarette she'd bummed from the cab driver. He'd offered her one, but she'd shook out several into her hands. She had quit smoking, but in a situation like this nothing else would calm her nerves. No way could she get her hands on a drink. She took a long satisfying drag.
She also wondered what she should say to the police—if she should even mention the bowl. But she wasn't a hundred percent certain it was there. She was going on a hunch.
Lisa leaned against the hood of the car. She'd been waiting for two hours. Finally, the man she'd plowed over at the door limped down the steps to her. She'd already been questioned by the police, but the guy—he said his name was Brian Knight—told her he wanted to talk to her after the police left. The cab driver had left ages ago, and Lisa admired the play of muscles in Brian's shoulders and arms. Jesus, he was definitely well-built. She wanted to reach out and touch. She tore her gaze away. He was trouble with a capital T.
Brian threw his bag into the backseat of her car as if he had a right to. “I need a ride,” he said before he shut the door and climbed into the front passenger seat. “The house is a crime scene. I can't stay here tonight.”
“You're taking an awful lot of liberties,” Lisa said, as she settled behind the wheel.
He leaned his head against the headrest. “I'm bushed.”
Lisa could see that. “What happened?”
“Afghanistan.”
“I'm sorry. About your friend, too.”
He nodded.
The least she could do was give a soldier a ride. “Where to?” she asked.
“The Ocean Wave Motel near—”
“I know where it is.” The rooms had always been cheap. It was where teens rented by the hour when they wanted to get in the sack with their boyfriends. Couldn't do anything on the island without getting caught. A motel was the last place she needed to be with this man. At a stop light she studied him. His eyes were closed. His face was as strong as the rest of him. She wondered about his hands. What they could do to a woman's body. He was a SEAL, after all. Strong . . .
He cleared his throat.
Caught ogling, Lisa tore her gaze away and blushed. She needed to get rid of him quickly. Ben didn't even begin to turn her on—not like this.
Lisa was still shaken. “You need a bed before you keel right over. Got family in the area?”
“Just my grandfather.”
“He's away. So who's staying with you?”
“Harriet was going to stock the fridge with everything I needed,” he said quietly, looking out the side window.
“Who's going to stay with you now?”
“No one.”
Lisa blew out a breath. “Typical man.”
“What happened when you arrived?” he asked.
“Weren't you listening when I told the police?”
“Tell me again,” he insisted.
“Harriet didn't answer the door when I rang the bell so I let myself in. She'd given me the key but forgot to give me the code to the security system. Since her car was there I called out when I went in. The alarm wasn't on. The light was on in the kitchen, so I went looking for her there.” Lisa shuddered. “That's when I found her. I don't know why this stuff keeps happening to me.”
“What stuff?”
“Somebody tried to kill me last year. It's a long story.”
“I've got time.”
Lisa shook her head. “It's got nothing to do with this.”
“Tell me anyway,” Brian insisted again.
Lisa weighed whether she could trust him. “This bowl has been in my family for nearly four hundred years. It's now missing. After befriending me, a couple of thieves held a friend of mine and me hostage in return for the bowl.”
Actually, there were two bowls, the original bowl her family owned and the one they purchased in the 1800s. Her family found the second one, but not the original. More info than Brian needed to know. The one they were able to find was now in a college museum. Thank goodness she and her friend escaped the thieves before the bowl was traded.
“So they traded you for the bowl?”
“The bowl is still missing. But we were able to get away. In the end, the thieves turned on each other. The one who befriended me wouldn't let the other one kill me.”
“Seems to me, in the end he did the right thing.”
Lisa shrugged. “That's one way of looking at it. But that's old news.” Lisa wasn't going to divulge that she suspected his grandfather now had the golden bowl. Wouldn't his grandfather have told the family that he'd purchased a valuable antique? One thing for sure. She was sticking to Brian like glue.
“The experience must have been terrifying for you,” he said with more understanding than Lisa expected.
Lisa nodded. “The worst.”
She drove in front of the motel wondering why someone with his obvious means didn't choose a more upscale place to stay. “How long are you going to stay here?”
“I'm not sure. Probably until the police allow me to move into my grandfather's place.”
Lisa reached for the door handle. “I'll get your bag for you.”
“Let me check in first.”
When he went inside, Lisa started to follow him, but her cell phone rang. It was Jackie. Her first impulse was to ignore it. But the news of the murder might have reached the island.
Lisa pressed the talk button.
“Hey, girl. I've been trying to reach you.”
“What's up?” Lisa asked. “I don't have time for the psychic today.”
“That's the last thing on my mind. I just need to work a couple days next week.”
Lisa stifled a groan. “Everything's covered right now.”
“You've got to have something,” Jackie said with a desperate voice. “Didn't you say something about a new contract?”
“I'm working that house.”
“Lisa, I need to work a couple days. I've got bills to pay. Keep me in mind if anything comes up, okay?”
“Don't worry.” Feeling guilty, Lisa hung up. There was a time Lisa wasn't quite reliable either and was desperate for money, but when she did show up, she always did her job well. Her employers always got their money's worth. The problem with Jackie was she rarely showed up for work and she did a piss-poor job when she did.
A month ago, Lisa had teamed her up with another of her employees. When Lisa had stopped by to check on things, Jackie had already left, leaving the other employee to do most of the work. The woman was running behind and had to make it to another house. Lisa had sent her to the next job while she finished up there.
Lisa's solid reputation, based on her employees doing a good job, ensured she'd get return calls and referrals. She didn't want anybody saying her company did shoddy work. She hoped Jackie wasn't holding her breath.
Brian limped to the car and got in. “Drive around the building,” he said. “My room's on the left side.”
Lisa drove there, parked in front of the appropriate unit, and took his bag inside.
“Can I get you anything before I go?” Lisa asked.
“I'll rest for a few minutes, then I'm going to rent a car.” He eased himself onto the edge of one of the beds.
“You can't drive in your condition. Why don't you contact someone in your family?”
“My grandfather's in Africa and my mother's on her fifth honeymoon.”
“Where's your father?” Lisa asked.
“Died a few years ago.”
“I'm sorry.” Sometimes she thought family was a curse, but when she considered the predicament Brian was in without one, that he was hurt and completely on his own without anyone to help him or care, having a huge family was a blessing. Even if they often got on her nerves. Half the island would have shown up if Lisa was in trouble. But there had to be somebody who cared about Brian.
“You got any brothers or sisters?”
“Half brothers and half sisters. From my mother's second and third marriages. We aren't close.”
“They're still kinfolk. Where are they?”
“California, New York, Chicago.”
“Do they know you're hurt?”
“A couple of them visited me in the hospital. They knew Harriet was going to help me.”
“If I had sent my family away, they would've stayed anyway. What kind of family are you from?”
“Every family isn't like yours, Lisa.”
“Hmph.” Lisa realized she grew up in a closed community where everybody was in your business, and that every place wasn't like that. New York certainly wasn't.
“You said your grandfather is in Africa?”
“He's on a humanitarian mission there. He won't be back for another six months.”
“Does he even know you're hurt?”
“I haven't told him.”
“If I was hurt and didn't tell my parents or grandparents, they'd be fighting mad. You should call your mother.”
He gave her an indulgent smile and disappeared into the bathroom.
Lisa pulled the covers back on the nearest bed and checked to make sure the sheets were fresh and clean before she set his bag on a luggage rack. She was surprised the place even had one.
“I only need to rest an hour,” he said when he came out of the bathroom. “Then I'll be good as new.” He sprawled himself out on the bed with a weary groan.
In your dreams,
Lisa thought.
He closed his eyes and fell asleep immediately.
Lisa was indecisive. For reasons Lisa didn't understand, she didn't want to leave him. He was a soldier, had fought for their country and came back wounded. It wasn't right that he was all alone. That there wasn't someone to help him. Get him a meal or pick up medicine for him. He was obviously in pain, although he didn't complain. Didn't even take anything to dull the pain. If Lisa was hurting, she'd be screaming from the rooftop.
The room was surprisingly clean. Outside was a patio with a couple chairs. Lisa went out on the tiny patio to make a few phone calls.
By the time she finished, nearly forty minutes had gone by. Three people had called wanting someone to clean their homes next week. She'd also called her workers about their schedules for the next day.
Harriet's murder saddened Lisa, that someone would come into that house and murder that poor woman over some inanimate object. Maybe if the family were able to get the bowl and lend it out to museums, as they'd done with the other one, people would stop searching for it. These senseless deaths could stop once and for all.
She also wondered if the bowl was still in the house or if the murderer had gotten it. Would she have to search in an entirely new direction?
Lisa went back into the room to check on Brian. He was still sleeping soundly. His face was completely transformed when all the barriers were down. Softer somehow, as if he'd released some of the tension the world threw at him, including the venture that brought him back injured. Would he have nightmares? His stress level must be horrendous, she reflected, because when he was awake, his expression was intense.
Lisa studied him. He was handsome. Walnut brown, as if he spent a lot of time in the sun. She recalled his unreadable dark eyes. They were unnerving in a way. She liked to guess what people were thinking when they were talking to her. Someone had said the eyes were the windows to the soul. Did his absence of emotion mean he lacked a soul?
A faint scar on his chin drew her gaze. Lisa shivered. It didn't detract from his fine features—strong features.
She almost lifted a hand, almost moved forward to trace the scar. Something about him pulled at the heartstrings. She stepped back. She could not deny that she was attracted. Wanted to reach out to him. She always reacted to the ones who needed her. This time she'd keep her distance. She was doing a good deed. Nothing more.

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