SEAL The Deal (29 page)

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Authors: Sharon Hamilton

BOOK: SEAL The Deal
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“Not a word. And I halfway expected they’d interfere with our escrow, too.” She saw them glance at each other. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Mr. Rodriguez had a crew come over and board up the house.”

“What? He can’t do that.” Devon was furious. “He doesn’t own the property.”

“Apparently—well, he says he bought it,” the older detective said.

“That’s impossible.”

“Have you talked to the prospective purchasers recently?”

“I—I was just going to call them. We just came from Sophie’s memorial service.”

“I’d do it now.”

Devon dialed the Hallbergs and got Donna Hallberg on the phone first.

“Devon, I was just going to call you.”

The hair at the back of Devon’s neck began to stand up. Her stomach tightened.

“We’ve decided not to purchase the property, with all the fire and the problem with the well.”

“There’s no problem with the well,” Devon insisted. She knew where this was going, but she was trying to head it off before it caught too much momentum, if that was possible.

“Well, we don’t want to argue with you, but apparently there is some arsenic contamination—”

“That can be rectified. The tank can be removed. The well is fine, so getting another tank is no problem.”

“We just don’t want to take that risk.”

Devon felt there was more, and she knew she wasn’t going to like it. The detectives sat passively, as if they knew more about her transaction than she did. “So, you’re just going to cancel, just like that? Don’t you want to see what we can get the insurance to do for you?”

“Well, let me have you speak to my husband.”

That was always a bad sign when one spouse wanted to switch the phone to the other one. David Hallberg came on the line.

He began talking in a sheepish tone, and it was hard for Devon to follow what he was saying, but then she heard the phrase, “offered us two hundred thousand dollars to walk away, well, not walk away, but assign our contract to him.”

“He can’t do that.”

“I’m sorry, but we went to see an attorney this morning, and yes, we can. And the money is already in our bank.”

Devon closed her eyes.

“If—if you’re comfortable, we’d like you to help us find another place to set up our nursery, that is, if you’re not mad,” he said. “We appreciate how hard you’ve worked for us.”

“You do understand that the neighbor is the prime suspect in Sophie’s murder?”

The detectives sat up in alarm.

“The attorney you went to see, would he defend you in a criminal case if the authorities question your benefitting from Sophie Dunn’s demise?”

Devon heard the other end of the line go silent. “You think that could happen?” David asked.

“You didn’t call me first. You just entered into this arrangement, and I imagine you used the attorney Mr. Silva recommended, and without consulting me, correct?”

“Well, he said he would defend us without charge if there was a challenge to it.”

“Or if you were arrested?”

Devon knew she was dashing her chances of ever having a successful relationship with the Hallbergs, but she was furious. And her fury was escalating. The detectives stood and were making motions for her to hang up.

“I’m afraid I have to go, David. But I think your next call should be to a criminal defense attorney. If you hold on a second, I’ll get you three names and you can pick one for yourself.”

The line went dead.

“Miss Brandeburg? We didn’t ask you to do this. Half of what you told them wasn’t even true.”

Devon stood up too. “Then you tell me. Was Sophie murdered or not?”

“We don’t have an autopsy.”

“And why is that?”

“Because she was buried today, as you know, and we are attempting to get hold of her brother. Do you know where we can find Nicholas Dunn? It would be a lot faster if we got his approval, otherwise we have to get a court order.”

Devon checked her cell phone and wrote the number down on her card for the police detective. “Does he know anything about this?”

“As far as we know, no.”

“He’s a Navy SEAL. You’d best tell him while he still has some of the other members of Team 3 around. I know they’re here today, but not sure for how much longer.”

“Thanks Miss Brandeburg.”

After they left, Devon wondered how Nick would handle the news, and hoped to God they listened to her admonition. He’d be a dangerous combination of terror and skill if he got focused on revenge. As much as she disliked the cretins who poisoned dear Sophie, she was more worried now about the plot ensnaring Nick.

 

Chapter 32

 

Nick forced himself to wake up. His mind was in a fog. The images in his vivid dreams involved exploding IEDs and screams of the wounded. Then there would be the image of Devon’s nude body at his feet.

Wake up! Wake up!
He squeezed his fists and was relieved to find he’d been restrained. No weapon in his hand. He watched as the vision of her body floated away from him. He began to hear sounds of the TV next door. He was warm. He was fully clothed. He was lying on a bed in a hotel room.

He opened his eyes. He felt the tears streaming down the sides of his face, and dampness on the pillow under his neck. The heaviness in his chest felt like someone with a boot was standing on him. And the pressure came from the inside too. His hands were shaking. He had a headache.

He flexed and squeezed his fingers, moved his arms up and down, then rested them above his head on the pillow. Something familiar about this made him close his eyes, and that’s when he saw her again, her arms above her head, her body turned on her belly, hair covering her face. Her creamy arms stretched out in front of her, tied tightly with the pink sash. He heard her moans, her sobs.

He inhaled and opened his eyes. It didn’t erase the images and sounds.

He heard talking in the next room as several males discussed something. He heard his sister’s name. “We’d like to get permission to exhume her body,” the man was saying.

He heard shuffling motions as someone approached the bedroom door. He closed his eyes and pretended to still be asleep. Through tiny slits in his eyes he saw Cooper’s worried face. Heard as Cooper shook his head and told them to come back in an hour. Said he’d revive him in an hour. Cooper said he wanted to let him sleep a little longer. Hell,
he
wanted to sleep.

Exhume her body?
That meant they suspected she’d met with foul play, which also  meant someone was responsible. That they were questioning the cause of death. There was only one person who could be responsible. He thought about what he should do as he wiggled the zip tie back and forth until it nearly melted in his hands and he was freed.

Someone had tucked his shoes halfway under the bed. Laid his sport coat on the chair. His tie had been removed and he found it on the dresser. He tested the strength of it and decided it would do. It wouldn’t be pretty, he’d have to jerk it tight and quick. Pull until all the air was forced from the neck, until he heard the crack of the windpipe cartilage. But he was a trained killer. He could dish out death like some ate their granola. That was the one part of him that wasn’t damaged. Everything else was a throwaway.

There wasn’t anyone to live for. Not even for himself.

 

Cooper checked his cell and swore there was no message from Kyle, Fredo or Armani. Marc had returned and was resting in the room across the hall. Cooper knew he’d promised the police he’d revive Nick if he didn’t wake up on his own in an hour. He had nearly fifteen minutes to go, but decided he’d go check on his patient.

Carefully turning down the lever door handle, holding it down so there would be no squeak of the hinges, he opened the door a crack.

Holy crap!

Nick was gone.

 

Devon knew she was the only one now who had the authority to find out about Sophie’s things. If they were boarding up the house, what were they doing with all the contents? Sophie wouldn’t want her things thrown away, her place treated with such disrespect.

It hadn’t been Devon’s choice to sell to the young couple. She’d told Sophie she could make more money, and perhaps it would have been easier on her to sell to the neighbor, but no. Sophie had to be the beautiful, stubborn woman she was.

Just like her brother.

She wondered if he was at the house. Or what he would do if he found them violating Sophie’s space. It was still Sophie’s space. It didn’t belong to Mr. Rodriguez, not if Devon had anything to say about it.

The drive over was quick with, very little traffic. She turned down the gravel driveway off Bennett Valley Road, spotting the nursery sign in the ditch, as if flung there by someone who didn’t care. There were two pickup trucks with an anthill of men unloading sheets of plywood and nailing them over the windows.

She pulled up to block one truck, and got out of the car.

“Who’s in charge here?” she asked a dark-haired youth with a baseball cap worn backwards.

The youngster pointed to a man helping to lift a stack of plywood off one of the trucks.

She waited until the plywood was unloaded and then handed the man her card. “Excuse me, sir, I’m the listing agent on this property and the owner didn’t give permission for any work to be done here.”

“I understand the owner is dead, ma’am.” He took a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his forehead. “Maybe you just didn’t get the memo?”

“I’m well aware of the fact that she’s dead. We have a contract to sell this property. No escrow has closed. ”

“Look, you’ll have to take it up with the new owner.”

“I’m telling you there is no new owner. Whoever told you to do this didn’t have the authority to do so. He’s lied to you and you’re going to get in trouble.”

The man shrugged.

“There has been no change in ownership. No escrow has closed.”

He shrugged again and continued to work.

“Can you at least call him and verify that what I have said is true?” She saw one of the men take a box from inside Sophie’s house and start to load it into one of the trucks. “Excuse me!” she shouted across the yard. “That’s stealing now. Now you’re stealing!”

The worker looked at the foreman who nodded back at the house and the worker disappeared inside, coming out empty handed.

“Call him,” Devon demanded.

“I don’t have a phone, Miss.”

She practically slammed her phone in the man’s face. “Call him right now.”

“No ma’am. I don’t have his number. So sorry. I’d like to help, but I’ve been hired—“

“Hired by Mr. Rodriguez, right?”

“Yes.”

“And can you tell me where I can find him?”

The man pointed across the vineyard. “I spoke to him about two hours ago. That’s when he instructed us to get the wood and start securing the property.”

“What about the contents?” Devon was furious.

“Beats me. Maybe he made some other arrangement you don’t know about. I don’t make up the rules, I just work here.”

Devon put a call into her broker, who she could not reach. She called the Sonoma County Sheriff’s Department and asked for one of the investigators and got their voicemail. She called 9-1-1.

The dispatcher wanted to know the nature of the emergency.

“I am a realtor and some strangers are boarding up a house I have listed.”

“Ma’am, what is the emergency?”

“These people are trespassing. They have no authorization to damage the owner’s property.”

“Ma’am. This is an emergency line. You must hang up immediately and call the local law enforcement agencies. Unless there is someone hurt?”

There’s going to be.

Sweat streamed down her back, her armpits and her chest. She couldn’t get in touch with anyone who could help her. She even tried dialing Nick’s number, uncertain if it was the right thing to do, but she was desperate to get someone to assist her.  But no one answered.

She called the Sonoma County Sheriff’s office again and told them about the emergency she was having. The dispatcher said that there wasn’t anyone available to come out to the site, that personnel were responding to “real emergencies.” Devon cursed and hung up. She wished she had Marc’s number, and tried Nick’s number again, which went right into voicemail. Wherever he’d holed up, he’d either turned off his phone or it lay in some ditch he was sleeping in.

She walked over to the heavyset foreman, inhaled and in a booming voice shouted, “You
all
are trespassing on private property. I am going to have you all
arrested
and sued. If you’d like to wait around for the
police
, go ahead. But trust me, you are all going to go to jail. I’d hate to find out a couple of you don’t have papers to stay in the United States legally.”

The foreman tried to shut her up, running at her, trying to grab her arm. Devon kept yelling over the top of his head as he attempted to get his hand over her mouth.

“The
po-leeeece
are on their way and you will be arrested for breaking and entering!”

Breaking and entering? Can a person be arrested for boarding up a house?

But it got the desired effect. A whole truckload of day laborers hopped into one of the two trucks and took off, sending sheets of plywood sailing in all directions as they tore down the driveway. The foreman yelled something to two other men standing by and they ran to retrieve the wood.

Devon remembered the baseball bat Sophie had by the side of her bed. The one she had intended to hit Mr. Silva with that first day she met him. She ran inside, looking at the complete disarray of the house, the papers everywhere, broken dishes, trees and plants overturned and picture frames lying broken on the floor. She rescued the picture of Sophie with Nick in happier times, cutting her fingers on the glass as she extricated the photo from the broken frame. She quickly slipped it into her pocket.

The baseball bat was right where Sophie had left it. Her bed was littered with debris. Crunching over broken things, Devon grabbed the bat and ran outside. She started her destruction of the pickup’s windshield, bringing it down with a satisfying
whop,
which brought yells from the other side of the yard. She swung and took off the driver’s side mirror, then hit the tail lights. As the men approached she swung and attempted to catch one in the gut, but discovered too late her aim was off and she’d hit him too low. He collapsed where he stood, doubling over on his groin.

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