Island of Deceit (11 page)

Barbara sighed and pulled into the parking lot of the local grocery store.

She couldn't tell Harper about these people yet. No one else was in danger of being killed by the Stones. As far as she knew, except for her grandmother, they usually didn't kill their marks. Dorsey was a fighter. She went after them. If only her grandmother had waited for her.

It usually took a few months for a scam artist to gain a mark's trust. She still had time on her side.

She hoped.

Harper watched Barbara drive away. At least she wasn't fighting him.

He slid into his car just to people-watch. Sooner or later, most strangers in town ended up at the Greasy Spoon. So far all the faces and vehicles were familiar, and he went back to thinking of Barbara.

She looked so good in that burnt orange outfit. The color matched the fall leaves. One thing he could say about Barbara was that she always seemed effortlessly put together. Even when she was in her shop or just grocery shopping. Come to think of it, even in her walking clothes, with the cute hat that was still sitting on his dresser. He should give it back to her. He was holding on to it until later.

He was so accustomed to moving at his own pace, he'd completely forgotten to ask Barbara to attend church services with him.
Have to do better than that.

After his divorce, he'd dated, but none of the relationships amounted to anything. It was a pretty crushing blow to find your wife in bed with another man. If he'd been some half-cocked crazy, the results could have been disastrous. He had just taken his jacket and shoulder holster off, and the thing was dangling from his fingers when he'd heard a masculine grunt and the mattress springs shift.

When his wife looked over the guy's shoulder and saw him looming in the doorway, she'd screamed. He'd never forget it. She thought he was going to shoot her. He'd just come from the scene of a drive-by shooting where an eleven-year-old had been killed. And he'd just witnessed the wrenching tears of a mother's agony.

He admitted to being an ass when he wanted to be. He'd stayed right in the doorway while the guy dressed and left, and he didn't even have to ask his wife to leave. She left on her own, all the time begging him not to shoot her.

She didn't have to worry about him shooting her. She wasn't worth the bullet or the effort. After that, he didn't expect or search for love. Just sex, thank you, to scratch an itch.

When he moved back to Paradise Island, he steered away from the local women. There were too many problems associated with dating in an old community with several generations of families. It was safer in Norfolk and Virginia Beach. But he got tired of that scene, too. At one point, he wanted more. But as hard as he searched, he could never find anyone he thought of as a partner. Someone he could settle down with, could trust.

Lately he'd been solo. The senseless dating scene wasn't cutting it and his mind had moved in a different direction. He was holding out for all or nothing. He wanted to be with someone who offered him more than an itch to scratch.

He'd been alone for a year now. He was beginning to think he'd never find that perfect match. And then Barbara blew into town like a tropical storm and knocked not only him, but the island women off their feet. The women wanted her new hairstyles. And him, well, he wanted her in every way imaginable.

Only she wasn't interested.

He was still sitting and watching when the Stones made their way to their car. Nothing to stand out. A regular American sedan.

Andrew seemed disturbed about something. Elliot, as always, seemed to be calling the shots. After Andrew attempted to hold Barbara up, Harper had been keeping an eye on the family.

Something about them made his neck itch. An indication something was off kilter. Andrew was thirty-five. Why was his sixty-something aunt working while he sat at home watching the tube and playing Nintendo? Now, he knew households where the parents tried to kick out grown sons who wouldn't budge, but why did Elliot put up with it? It was reasonable that Elliot was retired, but hadn't the man worked during his lifetime? Why would he let his grown, healthy son live off them? What was he teaching him? He'd spotted Andrew half-drunk walking off the ferry a couple of times. He was withering away to nothing. And his family let him.

Here strangers were nothing new. People needing to get away from their everyday, hectic lives. An example was the guy who'd been rubbing on Barbara's legs. There was something nagging at Harper about Trent, too. But he allowed for his prejudice. If only men knew what went on in nail salons.

Harper gritted his teeth. He hoped the guy had enough good sense not to go feeling up Barbara's legs again.

The Stones drove off, Elliot at the wheel. A minute later, John tapped the top of his car and he rolled his window down.

“Got somebody under surveillance?” John asked.

“Just watching. See who's coming and going. The Stones just left. They're a weird bunch,” he said. The window sill of their house had been wiped clean when they'd dusted for fingerprints. And he'd pulled nothing up on the computer. Not a traffic ticket, nothing. “Afternoon, Jordan.”

Jordan nodded on his way to his SUV.

“Is Ben back in town?” Ben was the bartender John had gone to interview several times. His employer told him that he still hadn't returned from his vacation.

“I'm going by there in a couple hours. He's working this afternoon. I talked to the investigator in Virginia Beach. Nothing new there.”

“I'm looking at the money angle.”

“We'll see.” John tapped the top of his car. “Check you later,” he said.

Harper couldn't help wondering if they were missing something vital. A sudden surge of crimes usually had some common factor. And they were missing pieces here.

Harper stayed for another fifteen minutes before he headed home to change clothes.

 

Barbara decided to prepare the dough for the fruit croustade first. For the filling, she used canned peaches Naomi had given her at the end of the summer, and added fresh blueberries and plums she'd picked up at the store.

As soon as she put the scallop dish together and before she got it in the oven, Liane called.

“Sorry it took so long to get back to you. Lambert Hughes has a daughter and a son. The daughter lives in California and the son in Chicago. Couldn't find out if they knew Minerva was taking care of him,” she said and rattled off the phone numbers. Barbara picked up the pen near the phone and scribbled a note.

“Thanks, Liane.” Barbara was getting nervous about Minerva, especially with the robbery. If they got desperate, they would move.

“So, how are things going with the sheriff?”

“Can you believe I actually invited him to dinner? What on earth was I thinking?”

“Wow. He doesn't waste any time, does he? I'm dying to meet him.”

Barbara moaned. “You probably will. This is the craziest thing I've ever done. I'm committing an illegal act and dating the sheriff at the same time. I could end up in jail.”

“With what you have in mind, we both can,” Liane reminded her.

Barbara's anger surfaced. “We're just acting on the same principles the Stones use. And they get away with it every time.”

“That should be a great bed warmer when we're in jail. Think we'll be roommates?”

Barbara chuckled at Liane's dry sense of humor. “You can pull out anytime you want to.”

“No, I'm in until the end. Just so you know, we both had better be prepared to return to work afterward, since we're going to spend our life's savings on lawyers.”

“That'll take care of future years of boredom. We're too young to retire anyway. What were we thinking?”

“Sunny beaches, perhaps? A trip around the world? The temperature hit thirty-five here yesterday. I could soak up some Hawaiian sun.”

“Haven't you heard? The dollar is down. The worst possible time to travel,” Barbara assured her.

“Bargains are everywhere. I just saw discounted tickets to Hawaii for a steal. Keep me posted, woman. I'll see you soon.”

Barbara decided to call Lambert Hughes's family immediately. It was Sunday, the best time to find them home. She first tried his son. No response, but she didn't leave a message. She dialed the daughter next.

“Ms. Houston. My name is Barbara Turner,” she said when someone answered. “I recently moved to Paradise Island, Virginia. I'm calling about your father. He—”

“Is he okay?” the woman interrupted.

“Oh, yes. As far as I know. I'm not calling about his health.” She paused, debating how to handle this without sounding like a lunatic. “I thought you should know your father's companion is known for fleecing senior citizens out of their life's savings. I know this because her husband stole hundreds of thousands from my grandmother less than a year ago. I couldn't save her, but I'm hoping that this information will help you save your father from the same financial nightmare.”

“Did you report this to the police?”

“There's no concrete proof. As far as the authorities are concerned, the Stones haven't committed a crime here. There's nothing they can do. They couldn't help me with my grandmother after the fact, and I've decided to take matters into my hands, but it takes time.”

“My God. She should be in jail.”

“Like I said, they don't leave evidence behind. And they change their names all the time. I've found five people who have been fleeced by that family within the last two years. I'm sure there are more. In my case, Minerva dressed up to look like my grandmother and cashed out her savings. She wore a huge floppy hat and averted her face from the security camera.”

“This is all so hard to absorb. Minerva seemed so kind and caring. I interviewed her myself. And I felt comfortable with Dad being so far away from my brother and me having someone responsible and so caring with him each day. Someone he can call if he needs help. She's always calling me with updates. His last companion wasn't quite as reliable. Many days she didn't show up for work at all. Minerva never misses a day.”

“It's how confident people work. She's there. None of your father's family is close by, so he begins to rely on her. Also, you should know the police recently found the body of your father's previous companion, Sarah Rhodes.”

“The one we thought ran away?”

“Yes, her body was found in the marsh a little over a mile from your father's house. They think she's been there since her disappearance.”

“They killed her?”

“I think Minerva's husband killed her.”

“Minerva's husband? But she told me she was single and living with her brother and his son.”

“The man she introduces as her brother is, in fact, her husband, and Andrew is their son.”

“Then my father's life is in danger.”

“They can't get money from him if he's dead. So, physically, I think he's okay right now. She hasn't gotten the money yet. If she had, they would have left.”

“Thank you so much for calling me. My brother and I will come to the island immediately. This time I'll convince him to move to California with me. It's going to be difficult, but I can't monitor him closely from this distance.”

“I'll give you my number if you need to talk to me. And since I'm spying on them, I'd appreciate it if you didn't use my name. These people move from family to family, and I plan to put a stop to it. They leave their victims devastated.”

Barbara couldn't help but wonder if there was another way to solve this situation. She wished she could go to Harper. Although Grandma always said she was strong enough to handle her own problems and not to look for anyone to solve things for her. But look what happened to her.

Harper was already peeved that she wouldn't testify against Andrew, but what would it accomplish? Minerva and Elliot would still be free to rob unsuspecting seniors. No, she was doing the right thing. They needed to know they could be as easily scammed as the next person.

Barbara slid a few CDs into the player and listened to music as she cooked. Harper had a huge appetite. At the grocery store she'd selected steaks and salad fixings. It didn't take long for the scallops she'd taken from her freezer to thaw. She'd serve them with baked sweet potatoes. Tasty, yet simple.

She still wasn't certain dating Harper was a sound idea. At first she was glad Andrew was in the way to keep temptation at bay. She could feel herself weakening for Harper and had been on the verge of giving in countless times. He seemed to be a genuinely nice person. But when it came to men, she wasn't a good judge of character.

Barbara wanted what any woman wanted. She yearned for intimacy with a caring, loving man. What would it cost to at least test the waters with Harper? What did she have to lose? An inner warning told her the cost could be very high if things went wrong. Secrets and lies could blow up in her face. But this was a temporary stopgap. Her heart saddened. Now that her grandmother was gone, there was no reason for her to move to a place full of strangers. This was not her home. But she'd been away from Philly so long that it wasn't home either.

She'd focused on her career and her grandmother her entire life. Dorsey had taught her self-sufficiency. Barbara's mother and father had died when she was a baby, leaving her with her grandmother, her only other relative. Fearing that Barbara might be left alone when she was still young, Dorsey had raised Barbara with a strict hand.

She made Barbara stand up for herself. If Barbara had a problem with her teacher, she'd tell Barbara how to fix the problem—the first time. The second time Barbara was to come up with her own solution. It was only after Barbara had resolved the problem that Dorsey would go to the school and have a talk with the teacher. And the same effort went with dealing with troublesome classmates.

It wasn't that Dorsey wasn't loving, because she was. Barbara got forty-five years of hugs, kisses, and care. And Dorsey always told her she loved her with every beat of her heart, but Dorsey always said,
Life was a series of picking up your boots and moving on until you find someplace to plant them.
She'd always said she was a grandmother, not a mother, and if she died, she didn't want Barbara in the grave with her. She wanted her to be able to deal with life's trials and make a meaningful life for herself, whether Dorsey was here or gone.