Читать книгу Hidden Agenda - Christy Barritt - Страница 13

FIVE

“I reckon since the power’s out, the doorbell’s not working. I’ve been standing here for five minutes. I’ve got a delivery for Ed Carter.”

Bailey nearly laughed at herself. The figure wasn’t quite as towering as she’d thought.

Alvin stood there. He was the town’s “chauffeur,” which really meant that he ran people around in his golf cart. He had two suitcases at his feet and, based on his tapping foot, he was in a hurry.

Ed stepped up behind Bailey. “Thanks, Alvin. I appreciate you bringing those by.”

“No problem.”

Ed reached into his wallet, pulled out some bills and slapped them into Alvin’s hands. “How’s the water level? Is the island still flooded?” Ed asked.

“It’s down right now, but only because it’s low tide,” Alvin said. “Come high tide, the bridge leading to your property is going to be covered again. That was one nasty storm. There’s no electricity on the island right now, and I can’t remember the last time that happened.”

“Let us know if anyone needs anything,” Ed offered, sounding halfway human for a change.

“Much obliged. Thank you.” Alvin tipped his hat and hurried back to his golf cart.

Bailey enjoyed hearing the accents of the locals. The island was once known to be a hiding spot for pirates. After the place was settled, the people who lived here had been so far removed from other civilization that the accent of the original English settlers had stuck around for decades. Only in recent years had it begun to fade as TVs became more popular and travel between the island and the mainland became easier.

Ed grabbed his luggage and set the suitcases inside the door. As he moved out of the way, Bailey got her first real glimpse of the outside in the morning sunlight.

The landscape looked as if a tornado had gone through. Tree limbs and leaves were everywhere. Part of someone’s roof was strewn in the distance, as well as some pickets and a trash can.

On the shore, mounds of seaweed and other “treasures” from the bay that often got washed onto the sand with storms were visible. No doubt there were sand dollars and horseshoe crabs and shells. There would also be litter—shoes, fishing line, pieces of damaged boats and piers.

It was going to take a lot of cleaning up to get this place back in order.

Now she just had to convince Ed that he needed her help to do so and that it was going to take more than an extra day or two.

“We’ve got a big job ahead of us this week,” she told him.

“We?” He raised an eyebrow.

She crossed her arms. “You need help. Admit it. You can’t clean all of this up on your own. You’re going to need to hire someone to help. It might as well be me. All I charge is room and board.”

He stared at her, that same incredulous expression on his face. “You want to help? After everything that happened last night? Even knowing that I still suspect you could have something to do with my father’s death?”

“I’ve already told you that I loved your father like he was my own. I’d never hurt him. And, yes, I really do want to help. I’m not one to leave things unfinished.”

Finally, he shrugged. “Well, I won’t turn it down. I will need help. At least for today.”

He walked over toward the fire and picked up a mug, taking a long sip.

Bailey leaned closer. “What are you drinking?”

The electricity was out, but it almost smelled like...

“Coffee. Why?” He took another sip.

She stepped closer, trying not to salivate. “How did you make that?”

“I’ve learned a few tricks while camping over the years. I made it over the fireplace.” He pulled the mug back, his eyes sparkling. “Would you like some?”

“All I charge is room and board—and coffee. I’m revising my earlier statement.”

“That’s good, because I wasn’t going to pay you anyway.” A hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

He poured her a cup of caffeinated bliss. The man could go from irritating her to charming her in 5.2 seconds. But when he placed the mug in her hands, gratefulness was all she felt. She took a long sip, hoping the caffeine would give her the boost she needed to get through the day. She’d hardly slept at all last night, and she felt it now.

She took another sip of her coffee. She had to figure out a way to find the “information” the man had mentioned. Did Ed know what it was? Even if he did, it wasn’t likely he would tell her. She needed a plan, and she needed it now.

Ed grabbed his suitcase and took a step toward the stairway. “I’m going to get changed. Meet me outside in twenty?”

“I thought I might start in the library since it’s such a mess from last night. Is that okay?”

He stared at her a moment. “Good idea. I’ll help you. We’ll work together.”

She nodded stiffly. He didn’t trust her, either.

The fact remained that she’d need a lot more ideas than helping with the cleanup if she wanted to stay long enough to find answers, though.

Right now, she had to figure out how to buy herself more time.

* * *

As much as Ed didn’t want to admit it, Bailey was a good worker. She didn’t complain as they straightened up the library, replaced books, tidied papers and cleaned up broken picture frames. Even when a piece of glass had cut her hand, she’d simply wrapped it in a paper towel, donned some gloves and continued working.

As he watched her now—her expression innocent and determined—he had a hard time continuing to think of her as a suspect. Somehow, he had to get some details out of her. He needed to know who’d been here in the weeks before his father died, if he’d talked to anyone unusual on the phone, if he’d said anything out of character in his final moments.

Ed had to get to the bottom of this, not only for the company’s sake, but for his own personal peace of mind. He’d made Bailey practically beg to stay here, but secretly he needed her here until he could figure out her role in all of this. But if she turned out to be innocent, he needed to get her off this island and away from danger. He didn’t want any more casualties. The fact that his dad and his dad’s friend had died was two too many.

While they’d cleaned, he’d looked for anything suspicious, anything that would offer answers on his father’s death. He’d found nothing.

Whoever was lurking on the property didn’t want to be discovered and had enough knowledge to conceal any evidence.

That meant that, just as he’d suspected when he’d first seen his dad’s ransacked library, the intruder was most likely a professional. He’d come here for a specific purpose, and he wouldn’t stop until he had what he wanted. The realization caused his stomach to tightened.

He stood and stretched for a moment. “I’m going to work outside for a while. Why don’t you join me when you’re done?”

Bailey nodded. “No problem.”

He really just wanted to look for footprints or any other clues. Not that he expected to find any. He’d spent most of the night trying to come up with a plan of action. He’d narrowed down his agenda. He’d get to know Bailey, find out what she knew. He also needed to get to know the people in town, ascertain whether or not they’d seen anything suspicious. While maintaining his own low profile.

As a cool October wind swept over the yard, he stopped and sucked in a deep breath. It felt good to simply take a moment to pause. For so long, he’d simply been living for his job. He’d nearly forgotten who he was in the process. He’d forgotten how he liked to work with his hands, go boating, smell the ocean breeze.

But the break was over all too soon. He checked around the windows for footprints. There was nothing, but that wasn’t a surprise. He began nailing a shingle back onto the side of the house when he spotted Bailey walking his way.

“I just finished up in the library.” She pointed to the plastic billowing from the broken window a few feet away. “I think there’s some plywood in the garage. Do you want to cover the window that broke? I’m sure we won’t be able to get a new one for a while. In a house this old it will probably have to be special ordered.”

He nodded. “Good idea.”

He grabbed his tools, took one more glance at his handiwork and felt satisfied. As they walked side by side, the breeze carried with it the scent of daisies. Since there were no flowers anywhere to be seen, he could only conclude that despite their primitive conditions, Bailey still managed to smell like a field of wildflowers.

He could get used to that scent.

As he glanced over, the wind lifted Bailey’s hair a moment. What he saw made him pause.

He grasped Bailey’s arm and pulled her to a stop. “Is that a bruise?”

Concern filled her gaze as her hand went to her neck. She knew exactly what he was talking about.

Still, she mumbled, “No. No bruise.”

She tried to keep walking, but Ed pulled her to a stop again. “There’s something on your neck.”

She shrugged, emotions flashing in her eyes. Fear. The woman was scared, wasn’t she? But why?

“I’m fine. Probably from a book that fell on me when I reached too high on the shelf to return it.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That’s your story?”

The woman was a horrible liar. Ed considered that a good attribute, refreshing.

She raised her chin, avoiding his gaze. “Whether you believe me or not, it’s really not your concern.”

He wanted to say more. To say so much more. But it wasn’t his place.

All he could think was that it looked as though someone had grabbed her by the throat. Threatened her maybe? The injury looked fresh, as if it had just happened recently.

The unsettled feeling continued to churn in his gut.

* * *

For the rest of the morning and into the afternoon, Bailey tugged at her shirt, trying to cover the tender area around her neck, evidence of the threat she’d gotten last night. Evidence of the turmoil she was feeling.

Ed’s attention to her bruises had been the last thing she’d wanted. She couldn’t afford for him to ask too many questions. The man in the ski mask had said if she told anyone, he’d kill her sister. She would never, ever let that happen. She couldn’t risk her sister’s safety, no matter how desperate she felt at the moment. As Ed repaired the back door from where he’d kicked it in, she tasked herself with raking some of the colorful leaves from the live oak trees.

It wasn’t what she wanted to be doing. She wanted to find the information her attacker wanted and get off this island. But she had to plan each of her moves carefully. Bide her time. She needed to earn a bit of Ed’s trust.

In the distance, she heard Ed’s cell phone ring. As she glanced at him, he stopped hammering and stepped away to take the call.

Bailey’s throat burned as she watched him. Though the man was a lawyer, he certainly looked good with a hammer. Earlier, he’d changed into jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt. The beginning of a beard covered his cheeks and chin.

He caught her staring as he hung up and walked back her way. His shoulders didn’t seem quite so heavy. Still, she realized there was something he wasn’t telling her. The mystery around him continued to grow deeper.

Just then, her cell phone buzzed. She glanced down at the text on her screen.

Don’t work too hard and forget your task.

The blood drained from her face and she glanced around. The man who’d threatened her was watching her now. But where? Was there anywhere she was away from his listening ears or watchful eye?

“That was my father’s lawyer,” Ed announced. “The will is being read on Friday in Richmond. He was making sure I could be there.”

Bailey flinched as Ed’s voice brought her back to the present. She quickly slipped her phone back into her pocket. “What?”

He stared at her, curiosity in his gaze. “I said, my father’s will is being read on Friday.”

Bailey couldn’t help but wonder if that inheritance was the only reason Ed had come back.

“He wants you there, too.”

Surprise flashed through her. “Me?”

“That’s right.”

“I couldn’t possibly take anything from your father.”

Ed shrugged, still distant, cool. “He obviously felt different.”

An idea hit her. This might be the answer she was looking for. “Okay. Well, then, I might as well stick around until then rather than go down to Florida to be with my sister, only to come back up.”

Ed opened his mouth to say something when someone walking up the lane caught both their eyes. Relief washed through Bailey when she spotted a familiar blonde.

“Samantha!” Bailey abandoned the leaves and went to join her friend.

“I wanted to come check on you,” Samantha said, pulling her into a hug. “That was a rough storm. How’s it going?”

“We survived. The yard barely did, though. It’s still a mess.”

Samantha glanced behind her, her eyes glinting with curiosity. “We?”

“Of course.” Bailey felt her cheeks flush as she turned toward Ed. “Samantha, this is Ed Carter, Bill’s son.”

Samantha smiled and extended her hand. “So nice to meet you.”

Ed smiled politely. Maybe he had manners around everyone except Bailey. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“Samantha lives on the other side of the island,” Bailey continued. “Her fiancé just restored some old fishing cabins there.”

“Bailey and I both showed up here in Smuggler’s Cove about the same time and instantly bonded,” Samantha added. “So besides coming to see how you fared after last night, I was wondering if you wanted to come by for a cookout tonight. We have a freezer full of fish at our place and if we don’t get our electricity back, all of those fillets are going to go bad.” She glanced at Ed. “You, too.”

“That would be great,” Bailey said. She would love to spend more time with Samantha. Maybe getting away from this house for an hour or two would do her good. She hadn’t found anything in the library. She’d quickly searched Mr. Carter’s bedroom as well, but there was nothing. Those were the two rooms he’d used most. She hardly knew where to look next.