Deadly Intentions Read online

“So, you’ll let me know as soon as you find anything?” Steve pleaded.

  “Of course,” Jake said.

  Steve disappeared down the hall and Jake turned to Jolene. “So, you really didn’t find anything out about Gail’s affair?”

  “No. She went in and came out. Not enough time for any funny business, though. I didn’t follow her because I felt like someone was following me,” she confessed.

  Jake’s brows knit together. “Why would someone follow you?”

  “I have no idea. It’s weird, but I thought I saw someone watching me out on the street, too.” Jolene glanced out the window to the street below but didn’t see the familiar figure. “Anyway, I’m not so sure about Gail. If she was having an affair with a professor, I doubt she’d go in and visit him like that in the middle of the day.”

  “Yeah, usually people having affairs don’t meet at each other’s workplaces. Maybe she had to give him an urgent message and couldn’t call for some reason?”

  “Maybe.”

  Jake leaned across his desk and grabbed his keys. “I’m going to ask around town about the Powers-Ellis feud.”

  “Okay, I’ll get on the computer and see if I can dig up any satellite photos that give us some clues about that case.” Jolene flipped open her laptop and pressed the space bar to bring her computer to life.

  “See you tonight.” Jake closed the door, leaving Jolene alone to focus on the computer. But not the satellite photos. She went straight to the town residents database in search of Andrea June.

  Three hours and several databases later, she still hadn’t found her. She’d searched births, deaths and licenses to no avail.

  Jolene closed the computer with a sigh, stood up and stretched out the kinks in her back. It was time to go home and re-meet her estranged aunt.

  Chater Six

  Jolene lifted the lid on the cast iron pot, inhaling deeply until her nose was filled with the sweet aroma of cream and clams. Clam chowder was her favorite and no one made it like her sister, Fiona.

  “Hey, no tasting!” Fiona appeared at the kitchen door in a lavender silk sleeveless blouse and faded blue jeans. “It needs to simmer a little more for all the flavors to meld together.”

  Jolene dropped the lid back onto the pot. “It’s like torture. You know that’s my favorite.”

  “You’ll get plenty once Eliza gets here and we sit down to eat,” Morgan chimed in from the pantry where she was standing on her tiptoes pulling the ‘good’ glassware from the top shelf.

  Morgan’s white linen top hugged her slim curves and made her dark hair look even blacker. Jolene looked down at her own outfit of black t-shirt and capris self-consciously.

  “Am I under-dressed?”

  Morgan peeked her head back in. “Nope, not at all. We don’t have to dress up. It’s just an informal dinner.”

  “I didn’t dress up, either.” Celeste padded in from the hallway dressed in her usual outfit—light blue yoga pants and a swirly loose purple and blue print top.

  Morgan took the crystal wine glasses to the sink to rinse them out. “Eliza should be here any minute. Is anyone else nervous?”

  The four sisters looked at each other. Truth was, Jolene did feel a little nervous and she could tell her sisters did, too.

  “Let’s wait in the foyer so we can greet her as soon as she gets here.” Fiona started down the hallway to the front door.

  The foyer was a large, open space where the front door, openings to the dining room and formal living room, and stairs converged. It wasn’t fancy like in some large homes, but it was nice with polished oak flooring and a carved oak staircase and moldings.

  The front door gaped open. Jolene could see out past the front porch to the circular driveway. Beyond that, the view included the quaint shops and boats of Perkins Cove. She walked up to the screen door where the scent of fried clams from the restaurants in the cove mixed with the sting of the ocean air, creating a contrast to the sweet smell of Fiona’s clam chowder coming from the kitchen.

  The sun was low in the cloud-dotted sky. It would be setting in an hour, but the patches of sunlight dotting the driveway were still bright.

  “Do you think we’ll recognize her?” Fiona asked.

  “She’s probably changed a lot since we last saw her,” Morgan answered.

  “I only have fuzzy memories of her,” Celeste said.

  Jolene didn’t remember her at all. She pursed her lips, trying to conjure up an image of Aunt Eliza. To her left, a small sailboat drifted by on the wide channel of water that led to the cove where the locals moored their fishing boats. To her right, beams of sunlight danced off the waves of the Atlantic Ocean just beyond the cliff. Which reminded her of her mother.

  “Do any of you know someone named Andrea June?”

  Morgan’s forehead creased. “I don’t think so.”

  Fiona shook her head.

  “Not that I can remember,” Celeste shrugged. “Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, just a case I’m on.”

  The sounds of tires on gravel pulled their attention away and Jolene felt grateful for the change of subject as all heads swiveled in the direction of the driveway where the Noquitt taxi was pulling to a stop.

  “She’s here.” Fiona said softly.

  Jolene watched a purple flip-flop clad foot appear from the back door of the car followed by a slim pale leg in purple capri pants and deep-purple tank top. Her Aunt Eliza’s long, silver-white hair flowed past her shoulders as she tipped the cab driver and retrieved her luggage—a small purple bag on wheels.

  The sun ducked behind a cloud and a shadow fell over Eliza’s face as she turned her ice-blue eyes toward the house. Celeste rushed out the door and swooped her into a hug.

  Eliza suffered Celeste’s exuberant greeting looking a bit taken aback.

  “Welcome, Aunt Eliza!” Celeste released her.

  “Thanks. I know you must be Celeste, but it’s been such a long time I barely recognize you,” Eliza said in her soft, melodic voice, the sound of which struck a familiar chord in Jolene’s heart. She must have remembered the distinctive tone from her childhood.

  Morgan pushed the screen door open and the rest of them came out onto the porch as Celeste took Eliza’s luggage and led her up the steps.

  “Morgan?” Eliza tilted her head as she inspected the oldest Blackmoore sister.

  “Auntie Eliza, we’ve missed you.” Morgan hugged Eliza, then the two women broke apart and Eliza turned to face Fiona, reaching out to run a lock of Fiona’s red curls through her fingers.

  “I’d recognize these red curls anywhere,” Eliza said then her eyes hardened. “My mother’s hair was the same shade of red.”

  Eliza and Fiona hugged and then it was Jolene’s turn. Eliza stepped in front of her and studied her face.

  “And Jolene … you were just a baby when I left.” Jolene smiled and hugged Eliza. Her small frame felt fragile.

  Eliza held her at arm’s length again, then her gaze drifted to the locket on her neck and Jolene saw her eyes widen. A shadow crossed her face. For a split second, Eliza looked almost panicked, but then she composed herself, abruptly turning and looking out at the ocean.

  “I see the house has been kept up nicely and the view is still superb.” Eliza spread her arms to indicate the scenic view from their porch, which encompassed the channel and cove to the left and ocean to the right.

  “We tried to do our best. There’re still some repairs that we need to catch up on,” Morgan said.

  Eliza was still staring out at the ocean. Jolene saw her eyes narrow as she looked at the cliff … or rather, the section of cliff that was missing.

  “What happened over there?” Eliza pointed in the direction of her gaze.

  The sisters exchanged an uneasy look. The side of the cliff had been blown away when modern day pirates came to the Blackmoore estate to hunt for treasure. Due to the unusual and somewhat paranormal circumstances, it was an event the Blackmoore sisters didn’t care to talk abou
t … even to their aunt.

  “The face of the cliff crumbled into the ocean.” Fiona recited the story they’d all agreed on.

  Eliza turned back to them, her eyes narrowed. “Really? How unfortunate.”

  The five women stared at each other and Jolene got the distinct impression that Eliza knew they were lying.

  Fiona broke the uncomfortable silence “I hope you’re hungry. We have a seaside feast prepared, including my famous clam chowder.” She held open the screen door then turned to Eliza. “I hope you like seafood.”

  “But of course.” Eliza stepped into the house and stood frozen in the foyer with Morgan, Fiona, Jolene and Celeste behind her. She looked to the left and right, then up the stairs. “This hasn’t changed a bit. It feels almost like I’ve stepped back in time.”

  “We’ve made some changes since your time here, but not in the foyer,” Morgan said.

  “We think the foyer is pretty much perfect the way it is,” Celeste added. “But wait until you see the kitchen.”

  “First, though,” Morgan cut in. “We wanted to ask you to stay here with us.”

  Eliza raised her left brow. “Oh? Well, I don’t want to impose.”

  “No, we insist.” Celeste pulled Eliza’s suitcase closer, as if she would hold it for ransom should Eliza decide to go to a hotel.

  Eliza shrugged. “Well, then, I guess it’s decided.”

  “Meow!” Belladonna appeared seemingly out of nowhere and proceeded to turn figure eights around Eliza’s ankles.

  “Bella!” Eliza’s face lit with surprise. She bent down to pet the cat who rubbed her face on Eliza’s hand, purring loudly. “Wait. You can’t be Bella … Bella would be too old now.”

  “That’s Belladonna,” Jolene said. “We’ve had her for ages. I remember we always had a white cat, but I’m not sure how old Belladonna is.”

  “We always had a white cat, too.” Eliza frowned up at the girls.

  “Maybe they’re related,” Morgan said. “She could be one of Bella’s kittens.”

  “Or even one of her kittens’ kittens.”

  Jolene looked down at the cat who slowly lowered her eyes to contented slits. They’d had Belladonna ever since she could remember—how old was she?

  “So. It’s settled, then. Celeste started toward the stairs, tugging Eliza’s suitcase after her. “I’m sure you know this place as good as we do. Which room do you want?”

  Eliza stood, her gaze drifting up the stairs. “I guess I’ll take my old room if no one else is using it.”

  “Which one is that?”

  “West wing, on the end.”

  The girls exchanged a look. They’d always felt the west wing was rather dark and foreboding. They never went there. And the room on the end was decorated in vintage gothic style, complete with an intricately dark carved wood mantle and red velvet wallpaper on one wall. It was the furthest room from the main household activity, but if that’s what their guest wanted, that’s what they’d give her.

  “It’s empty, but I’ll need do a little freshening up and put new sheets on the bed,” Morgan said. “You guys give Eliza a tour of the downstairs while I do that and then it should be time to eat.”

  “I guess we can start with familiar territory,” Fiona said as Morgan took the luggage from Celeste and headed upstairs. “I don’t think the living room has changed much since you lived here.”

  Celeste was closest to the living room entrance, so she led the way inside the large room. The front of the room boasted long, wide windows framed with green velveteen drapes. The edges of the wide pine floor peeked out from under a green and gold oriental rug. The room was dotted with antique furniture from various Blackmoore generations.

  “It does look much the same.” Eliza’s eyes scanned the room. She pointed to the overstuffed green brocade sofa and matching chair. “New sofa though. My mother always kept that stuffy Victorian set in here.”

  “That’s up in the attic now,” Jolene said.

  “There’s a lot of stuff up there.” Eliza glanced up at the ceiling and Jolene thought she saw a strange expression flicker across her face just before Fiona captured their attention by sliding the wood-paneled pocket doors open, revealing the library.

  “My favorite room,” Eliza said turning toward the room with its giant bookcase walls. The tufted leather sofa and chairs sat stoically as they had for decades and Jolene wasn’t surprised when Eliza recognized them.

  “Grandpa’s furniture,” Celeste ran her hand lovingly along the back of the sofa. “This is my favorite room, too. It’s so quiet and peaceful.”

  Eliza nodded in agreement, studying the room almost as if she was looking for something.

  “It’s quiet because the books absorb sound.” Jolene crossed the jewel-toned oriental carpet and opened the door at the other end of the room leading them out into the hall.

  Across the hall was the east parlor and its expansive view of the Atlantic Ocean. They led Eliza in there and she looked around the room in wonder.

  “Boy, has this room changed,” she said.

  “Yeah, our mom redecorated it shortly before she … died,” Celeste said.

  Jolene could see a sad, faraway look reflected in Eliza’s eyes as she glanced out at the cliff … at the very spot form which Johanna had jumped.

  Eliza turned back toward the room, her eyes cast down at her feet. “I’m really sorry about your mom. She was like a big sister to me. I wanted to come back when it happened … but I couldn’t.”

  Jolene’s heart tugged for the other woman.

  What had happened that was so terrible it kept Eliza from returning for her sister-in-law’s funeral?

  No one knew what to say. The awkward silence stretched on, punctuated by the ticking of the grandmother clock in the hall until Morgan appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.

  “Okay, your room is all set up and I think dinner is ready,” she said. “You guys want to eat?”

  “Absolutely.” Celeste started toward the door.

  “My chowder!” Fiona bolted for the kitchen.

  Morgan turned back into the kitchen and Eliza started toward her slowly with Jolene lagging behind at the edge of the room.

  As she left, Eliza cast one long glance out the window toward the ocean. Jolene concentrated her senses to read the other woman’s aura.

  Her aura showed bands of purple to match Eliza’s outfit. Jolene wondered if Eliza had paranormal gifts too. Purple indicated spiritual thoughts—she might have gifts and she might not even know, or maybe she was religious. But there was another color in her aura that set Jolene’s nerves on edge—gray.

  Jolene felt a prickle of unease in her stomach as she watched her aunt disappear through the door into the kitchen. She had no idea why Eliza had suddenly shown up after all these years, but one thing she did know was that her long lost aunt had a secret.

  Chapter Seven

  Jolene sat on the edge of her bed, her feet flat on the hard wooden floor, trying to wake herself up. Jake, Luke and Celeste’s boyfriend, and long-time Blackmoore family friend, Cal, had arrived just in time for dinner and had stayed up well into the night filling Eliza in on town gossip.

  Luke and Cal were both townies and Eliza remembered their families and even embarrassed Cal by telling a funny story of when he was a young boy. Of course, she didn’t know Jake since he was new in town. Thoughts of Jake reminded Jolene that she’d better get a move-on. She was supposed to go down to Perkins Cove to dig up information about ‘the feud’ and she wanted to get an early start. She hadn’t been very productive on either one of her cases and wanted to put in a full day so she could make some progress before Jake got on her case.

  But first … coffee.

  She threw on jeans, a t-shirt and sneakers, then swirled her chocolate brown hair into a high pony tail before heading down to the kitchen.

  Celeste was already up and at the counter making her wheat grass concoction. Jolene headed straight for the k-cup machine to make he
rself a cup of strong, dark roast.

  “Morning!” Celeste’s perpetually cheerful chirp grated on Jolene. She couldn’t take ‘cheerful’ until she’d had at least half a cup of caffeine.

  “Hi.” Jolene settled into one of the stools at the kitchen island.

  “Did you sleep well?” Celeste asked.

  “Like a baby. You?”

  Celeste nodded. “I wonder if Eliza is an early riser.”

  Jolene shrugged, preferring to focus on drinking her coffee instead of talking.

  “What are you up to today?” Celeste asked after a few minutes of silence.

  “This morning I’m heading down to Perkins Cove to ask around about Gordy fooling with Jed’s traps. Then this afternoon I have a lot of computer work to do.”

  “I could walk down to the cove with you if you want. I have to drop some lavender oil Morgan made off to my friend, Darlene, at A Scent of Maine,” Celeste said, referring to one of the boutique shops in the cove that sold perfumes and oils.

  Perkins Cove was comprised of a small, horseshoe shaped piece of land that abutted the Blackmoore land. On one side was the cove that housed a variety of fishing, pleasure and sightseeing boats. The land next to it was filled with three rows of old fishermen’s shacks made into quaint boutique stores and restaurants. Back in the day, only fishermen came here, but somewhere along the line someone realized how picturesque the small cove with its wooden, manually-operated drawbridge was and it didn’t take long for it to become a popular tourist destination. Soon, the old shacks had been turned into stores and restaurants.

  “Okay. Sure.” Truth was, Jolene could use the company. She’d been considering confiding in Celeste about her search for the truth about their mother. She could use someone to bounce ideas off of and she was closest to Celeste. She would be less resistant to the idea of trying to find out what really happened than their older sisters.

  Celeste cleaned up the juicer while Jolene waited for the caffeine to hit her brain. After a few minutes, she put her mug in the sink.

  “You ready, or do you need to change?”