Deadly Intentions Read online

  Harriet eyed the two apothecary jars.

  “Lemon Verbena and Oregano.” She pursed her wrinkly lips and looked at Beatrice. “Now why would you need a tea made from those herbs?”

  “Never you mind,” Beatrice shot back.

  Morgan rang up the sale, ignoring the two women’s banter. She wasn’t about to betray a customer’s confidence and tell Harriet that the remedy was for flatulence.

  “We heard your Aunt Eliza is coming back to town,” Beatrice said as she fished in her large handbag for her wallet.

  Morgan raised a brow at Fiona. News sure did travel fast in this town. “Yep, we’re excited to see her. None of us remember much about her.”

  “Your grandma was right put out when Eliza up and left like that,” Harriet said while they all watched Beatrice take her time counting out the exact change.

  “Just why did she leave?” Morgan frowned at Harriet.

  Harriet and Beatrice glanced sideways at each other. “Oh, we really couldn’t say…”

  “Surely it can’t be a secret after all this time?” Morgan prompted.

  Beatrice pushed the pile of change and bills toward Morgan. “No, we really couldn’t say because we don’t know why.”

  “We always figured she just didn’t want to be tied down in a small town,” Harried added.

  “I guess that makes sense.” Morgan rang up the change.

  “Well, we must be going.” Beatrice grabbed her bag and turned toward the door.

  “Ta-ta,” Harried said, following Beatrice.

  As the two women exited the shop, Morgan mulled over what they had said about Eliza leaving town. It made sense that Eliza left because she had dreams that couldn’t be satisfied in a small town. What didn’t make sense was that she left and never talked to anyone in the family ever again—until now.

  Chapter Four

  Jolene slouched down in the seat of her car and stared at the concrete exterior of the junior college. The picture of Gail Flint sat beside her on the passenger seat. She didn’t really need the picture, though. She knew Gail personally and besides, every detail of the woman was imprinted in her photographic memory.

  At nine-fifty-five, a green Subaru pulled up. Jolene watched Gail Flint get out and walk into the building.

  That’s strange, she thought. Normally, cheating spouses had clandestine evening rendezvous at some out of the way place to conduct their affair, but here was Gail trotting right into the school in broad daylight.

  Jolene chewed on her bottom lip, deciding whether to follow her or wait out here. As she stared at the building, trying to make up her mind, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle … as if someone was watching her.

  Her back stiffened, but she kept her head facing forward as she glanced up at the rear-view mirror, then slid her eyes to the side mirrors. She didn’t see anyone there. Slowly she reached up to the rear-view mirror, angling it to see more of the parking lot behind her.

  A spark of sunlight glinted off something at the very back of the lot near the woods. Jolene spun around in her seat.

  Was someone back there with binoculars or a camera?

  Why would someone be watching her? Before she could even think of the answer, she found herself ripping the door open and bolting out of the car.

  She sprinted toward the woods. The glint disappeared. The bushes rustled where she thought she’d seen someone, then they fell back in place. When she got to the spot, no one was there.

  “Damn it!”

  She stared into the woods, but the only thing that moved was a squirrel scurrying down the trunk of an old oak tree. She turned her attention to the area where she thought she’d seen someone. The brush was trampled, branches broken.

  Someone had been there.

  But had they been watching her? And, if so, why?

  Jolene was just coming out of the woods onto the paved surface of the parking lot when she saw Gail Flint come out of the building. She held back—she’d stick out like a sore thumb being the only other person in the parking lot and she didn’t want Gail to see her now because it might raise suspicions if she happened to see Jolene tailing her later on.

  She watched as the blonde got in her car and drove away. Alone.

  Jolene looked at her watch. Gail had been in the building less than ten minutes. That certainly wasn’t long enough for any nefarious activity … not that she thought the couple would be having their affair right in the college. But it seemed odd that Gail would come here to see him. In her experience, most people having affairs tried not to be seen together in public.

  Feeling a bit down that she hadn’t made any headway on the case, Jolene decided to proceed to the next task on her list—questioning the only witness that saw her mother jump to her death.

  ***

  Earl Whiting lived in a ramshackle old house on the outskirts of Noquitt. Jolene pulled into the dirt driveway at eleven-thirty—a time when most lobstermen were out pulling their traps. She figured Earl would be home, though, since he wasn’t known to keep regular hours.

  Jolene had known Earl her whole life and the entire town knew he worked as little as possible, preferring to spend his days with a six-pack.

  Jolene parked in the middle of the yard—if you could even call it a yard. It was more like a dump with piles of junk here and there and not a blade of grass in sight. The main house was a small white cottage. Its screen door hung half open, squeaking loudly as the breeze moved it back and forth.

  To the left of the main house was a chicken coop, the chickens long gone. To the left of the coop, a barn leaned dangerously, the roof sporting bare patches where shingles, now resting in the yard, had blown off.

  Her shoes crunched over the glass from a broken bottle as she approached the house. The sounds of a television game show blared from an open window next to the door where a soiled curtain fluttered in the breeze.

  Jolene knocked on the door and waited a few seconds, then knocked louder.

  “Yeah, I’m comin’,” She heard Earl yell just before he ripped the door open.

  Jolene took a step backward and looked up at the red-faced man in front of her. Despite his skinny arms and legs, his stomach strained at the dirty white t-shirt he wore. His gray hair stuck up from the top of his head in an unruly mess.

  He squinted down at her. “Wadda ya want?”

  “Hi, Earl, It’s me, Jolene Blackmoore.”

  He leaned closer and the smell of stale beer and cigarettes hit her like a tidal wave, causing her to take a step back.

  His eyes widened. “Oh, so it is. Didn’t recognize ya’ … It’s been a few years and you done growed up.”

  His eyes drifted down to Jolene’s chest and she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from giving him a piece of her mind.

  “What brings ya’ here?” He looked back up at her eyes.

  Jolene peered up at him from under her lashes. She figured playing the helpless, cute female would get more answers out of him than being tough and demanding.

  She softened her voice. “Well, I know you set your lobster pots just outside the point near my house...”

  “Yeah…” Earl’s eyes narrowed.

  “I was wondering … well,” Jolene looked down at her feet, trying to appear vulnerable and appeal to his sense of wanting to help. “I wondered if you saw anything the day my mother died.”

  She looked up at him, plastering a look of wide-eyed innocence on her face. She didn’t want to give on that she was actually investigating and had seen the police report. She’d get more answers from him if she pretended she was just a girl interested in finding out about her momma’s death.

  “What do you mean?” His white eyebrows mashed together.

  Jolene’s eyes drifted over his shoulder into the house. The big screen TV—one of the older, bulky models—and leather theater seating seemed at odds in the tiny, old-fashioned living room.

  “Well, they say she jumped, but I have a hard time believing that. I mean, I
knew my mother. She was happy.”

  “I don’t know anything that can help you.” Earl turned away and started to shut the door.

  “Wait!” Her plea caused him to turn back toward her. “But you did see her that day, right?”

  Jolene focused on his aura. Normally she filtered the aura energy out—it was too distracting for normal interaction, but now she wanted to get a bead on Earl’s state of mind. As she suspected, his aura was white with bands of red, gray and brown. Earl was ill—probably with alcoholism or maybe even something more serious. His aura also showed he was oriented toward materialistic things, and, more importantly, the brown and gray showed that he had unsettling thoughts and possibly bad intentions.

  Earl’s hands fidgeted on the door, his eyes darted left and right. He didn’t look Jolene in the eye as he said, “I saw her, and like I told the police, she was alone on the cliff.”

  Then he slammed the door shut in her face.

  Jolene stood facing the door for a few seconds. Earl hadn’t told her much, but the way he acted and his aura had told her plenty.

  Earl Whiting had something to hide.

  As she turned to go back to her car, she noticed the barn and its half-open door. She couldn’t resist taking a peek inside. Glancing back at the house to make sure Earl wasn’t watching her, she walked over and stood just outside the barn door. Shading her eyes against the sun, she squinted into the dark interior.

  On the right was a shiny speedboat on a trailer. She knew Earl moored his old, run-down lobster boat at Perkins Cove, but she never knew he had a speedboat.

  Next to the boat was a Suburban. It looked to be in good condition—not this year’s model, though—probably a few years old.

  Jolene chewed her bottom lip as she stared at the car and boat. From what she knew about Earl, he didn’t have enough money for these expensive items, not to mention the big television and theatre seating in his house. Even though the items seemed to be years old, and he could have bought them used, things still didn’t add up.

  “I heard you talkin’ ta Earl,” a soft voice said in Jolene’s ear. She whirled around to see Earl’s wife, Mae, standing at the corner of the barn. A worn white t-shirt hung from her tiny frame. The bottom of the shirt came almost down to her knees, but didn’t quite cover the holes in her faded jeans. She held a planter with freshly planted purple pansies in her lime-green, gardening-gloved hands.

  “Hi, Mae. You startled me,” Jolene said.

  “Sorry, child.” Mae’s eyes slid over to the house. Her face was deeply etched with the lines of hard work and harsh Maine winters. Jolene knew she was probably only in her late fifties, but she looked twenty years older. She guessed being married to Earl had probably sped up the aging process.

  “I heard what Earl told ya’ about yer ma.”

  “Yes,” Jolene prompted.

  “I always liked Johanna.” Mae’s eyes clouded. “She was always nice to me even when others weren’t.”

  “I remember that about her.” Jolene’s heart warmed, remembering how her mother was always kind to anyone, no matter what their circumstances or how the townspeople felt about them.

  “Anyway,” Mae leaned closer to Jolene and lowered her voice. “What Earl said … I don’t know if it’s the whole truth.”

  Jolene’s brows shot up. “Really? What is the truth?”

  “Well, I’m not sure ‘bout that.” Mae’s voice was barely above a whisper now, her eyes darting nervously back to the house. “But I might know where you can find out.”

  The front door to the house opened and Mae’s face took on a look of terror.

  “Mae? What ‘cha telling that girl?” Earl bellowed from the doorway.

  “Nuttin’, Earl, just trading planting tips for the season,” Mae said, backing away from Jolene.

  Jolene’s heart plummeted. She grabbed Mae’s elbow.

  “Wait,” she whispered, hoping Earl couldn’t hear her. “How can I find out the truth?”

  Mae glanced wide-eyed at the house, then turned back to Jolene and mouthed the words, “Andrea June.”

  Jolene released Mae’s elbow and Mae scurried toward the house, setting the potted plant down on the steps as she scooted past Earl and into the living room.

  Earl glared at Jolene from the doorway.

  “You best be goin’ now.” He jerked his chin toward Jolene’s car.

  “Right. See ya.” Jolene hopped into her car, turned the engine over and drove off without even a glance in the rear-view mirror.

  As she pulled out onto the road, she felt a ray of hope—she’d been given a clue that might help her find out the truth about her mother’s death.

  There was just one problem with the clue. She had no idea who the heck Andrea June was or where she could find her.

  Chapter Five

  By the time Jolene got back to the office, the village was abuzz with activity and she had to park in the public parking lot one street over. As she made her way down the street, the familiar prickle at the back of her neck caused her stomach to tighten. She slowed her pace, then stopped in front of a boutique, pretending to admire the bright yellow bathing suit in the window.

  Tourists crowded the brick-paved sidewalk, sauntering along with shopping bags in their hands. Jolene scanned the crowd through the reflection in the window, her heart skipping when she saw a familiar silhouette a few stores down. The man stood still in the bustling crowd, watching her.

  She whipped around, facing the man, but he wasn’t there! Her eyes darted quickly to the left, then the right just in time to see the familiar crop of brown curly hair disappear down a side street.

  “Hey, wait!” she called out, then ran toward the side street, jostling shoppers and causing a little boy to drop his ice cream. Ignoring the irate cries of the mother, she turned the corner, only to find an empty street.

  “What the …?” Jolene spun around looking in every direction but the man had disappeared.

  She turned and headed back toward the office, her face etched with lines of confusion. She must have been mistaken when she’d seen the silhouette, because the man she’d thought she’d seen was a friend. Even though he was somewhat mysterious and appeared at the oddest times, she couldn’t imagine why he would run away from her. He’d always helped her in the past. Why would he spy on her and run away now?

  She was still pondering this as she climbed the steps to her office. The sound of men’s voices drifted through the closed door as she approached.

  She tentatively opened the door and looked down into the hopeful face of Steve Flint. He sat in Jake’s guest chair, his red-rimmed eyes searching her face.

  “Hi, Steve.” Jolene glanced from Steve to Jake. She knew Steve had probably come to ask if they’d found anything out about Gail and she felt bad that she wouldn’t have anything concrete to tell him.

  “Did you find out anything?” Steve twisted in his chair to face her.

  “I’m afraid not.” Jolene’s heart pinched at the crestfallen look on his face. “I saw her at the school, but she wasn’t doing anything suspicious.”

  “But you saw her meet him?”

  “Not specifically. I didn’t want to make her suspicious by following her inside. She was only inside for a few minutes, though. She could have gone in for anything.”

  “And then where did she go?”

  Jolene chewed on her bottom lip. She was afraid he was going to ask that. “I didn’t follow her.”

  “Oh … why?”

  Jolene looked from Steve to Jake again. She didn’t want to tell them it was because she was halfway across the parking lot chasing someone she thought was watching her. “I just felt it was better not to. It would be too obvious and, since Gail knows me, I was afraid it might make following her in the future problematic if she saw me today.”

  That seemed to satisfy them and it was mostly true. She probably wouldn’t have followed Gail anyway because she was alone. Better to wait until she felt there would be a compromisin
g moment to witness.

  Steve deflated. “I just want it to be over with. I knew I never should have married someone so beautiful … but I still love her.”

  Jolene leaned her hip on the corner of Jake’s desk and looked down at Steve. “What makes you so sure she’s having an affair?”

  “Well, look at me.” Steve spread his hands. “What would someone like her want with someone like me?”

  Jolene tilted her head. Steve didn’t look so bad and she knew he was a nice guy. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re a nice guy.”

  “Well, you know what they say about nice guys.” Steve rubbed his hands across his face. “Anyway, she’s been sneaking off and acting secretive. I know she’s hiding something and it’s got to be an affair.”

  “What makes you think it’s with someone at the college?”

  “I heard her talking on the phone to a friend. She mentioned something about the college but when she realized I was listening she got all nervous and tried to cover it up.” Steve sighed. “It all adds up. I knew she was too pretty for me. The sad thing is I still love her … even if she doesn’t clean the house and can’t cook worth a damn.”

  Jake stood and Steve took the hint, pushing himself up from the chair.

  “We’ll do our best to find out exactly what’s going on as soon as possible.” Jake clapped his hand on Steve’s shoulder and gave Jolene a pointed look.

  Jolene slid behind her desk, just as Jake was escorting Steve out the door. “Hey, do either of you know someone named Andrea June?” she asked.

  Steve’s brow creased. “No. Why? Does it have something to do with Gail?”

  “No … it’s just someone I need to talk to.”

  Jake shook his head. “Nope. Sorry. Don’t know any June’s at all. Is that the last name?”

  Jolene pursed her lips. She hadn’t considered that June might be the middle name. If that were the case, not having her last name would make the search much more difficult. “Good question. I’m not sure.”