Tidewater Inn (27 page)

She ran a few feet into the water to greet the dog as he struggled to shore. Sinking to her knees, she threw her arms around his neck. He licked her cheek weakly and she half guided, half carried him the rest of the way. They both collapsed onto the sand. Panting, Samson crawled onto her lap.

“Good dog,” she crooned. She'd wanted to see an angel, just as Aunt Pearl once had. Samson was that angel today.

The sun had colored the clouds with red and gold when Alec found Libby sitting on a piece of driftwood. Her face was turned toward the sunset. Her arm was around Bree's dog. They'd been for a swim. He could see that her hair wasn't quite dry and neither was the dog. Alec paused to shake sand from his sandals, and Tom nearly bowled him over in his haste to get to Libby.

“Ready?” Tom whispered.

“I guess we have to be. Libby,” Alec called. She turned her pensive face toward them. He knew when she saw Tom because her eyes widened and she inhaled. “Tom has some news,” he said.

Her lips tightened and she got up. “You've found her body?” The dog pressed against her leg as though he sensed she needed comfort.

Alec paused to reflect on her answer. He knew Tom would assume she'd asked because she knew for a fact that Nicole was dead. He didn't believe that. “Not her body but some of her clothing. Bree and Samson found it.”

“Where? Why didn't she come to tell me?” She'd thought Bree had acted a little strange. She'd been quiet before rushing the children in to get cleaned up, then off to dinner in town without Samson.

Tom grunted. “I ordered Bree to let us tell you.” He put his hands on his hips. “What we found were her sandals and cover-up, Miss Holladay. They match the description you gave us.”

“Oh no,” Libby whispered.

“You were quick to ask if we'd found her body. I suspect it's because you dumped her body out there.”

She went white and her fingers stilled in the dog's fur. “That's a terrible accusation. You were both so somber that I assumed the worst.”

“Her shoes and cover-up indicate that she's no longer alive,” Tom said, his voice harsh.

“I don't believe it.” Libby's lips trembled. Her gaze sought Alec's.

Alec saw no guilt in her face. “Tom needs you to identify the belongings he found.”

“Pink flip-flops and cover-up?” she asked.

He nodded. “Shoe size matches.”

“Where did Bree and Samson find them?”

Tom shot a fierce glance at Alec that warned him to be quiet. “They found one shoe in some rocks and the other twisted with seaweed a few feet away. The cover-up was fifty yards down the beach.”

“Maybe the things aren't Nicole's.” Libby's voice rose. “Pink is a common color for beach items.”

“I want you to take a look,” Tom said, gesturing back at his truck in the driveway.

Libby nodded and they trekked back to Tom's SUV. He stuck his head through the open window and withdrew a plastic evidence bag. Without speaking, he handed it to Libby.

The bag crackled when her fingers tightened around it. She loosened the top and pulled out the clothing and flip-flops. “They look like hers. I bought her the cover-up for Easter.” Her voice quavered. She turned the shoes over. “See this nick out of the bottom? Her mom's dog chewed them the weekend she got them.”

Alec nodded. “Looks like teeth marks.”

She closed the top and handed it back. “I think I can say without any doubt that these belong to Nicole.”

Tom tossed the bag into the SUV. “I think we have to assume we're investigating a murder, Miss Holladay.”

She visibly wilted. “I don't want to believe she's dead.” She turned a beseeching glance toward Alec.

He didn't want to give her false hope. “You have to face facts, Libby,” he said, gentling his voice.

“If she's dead, where is her body?” she asked. “Wouldn't her body have washed ashore too?”

Tom shrugged. “I know it's hard to hear, but it's rare to find a body. Fish take care of the remains.”

Her eyes filled and she backed away. Alec glanced at his cousin and saw Tom narrow his eyes. Did he think her distress was put on?

“I'd like to ask you some questions, Miss Holladay,” Tom said. “What happened to your mother?”

She reeled as though she'd been slapped. “What do you mean?”

“How did she die?”

Libby wetted her lips. “She fell down the basement steps.”

“Isn't it true that the police suspected you pushed her?”

“I didn't!” Libby blinked rapidly. “She was drunk.”

“You were held for questioning,” Tom said.

“They let me go.” Her eyes pleaded for them to believe her. “I had nothing to do with it.”

“But you were home?”

She sighed and leaned against the SUV. “I was home,” she agreed heavily. “But I was upstairs working on some paperwork.”

“You lived at home?”

“Someone had to take care of her. If I wasn't there, she wouldn't have bothered with food.” She tipped her chin up. “I took care of her. I cared for her for years.”

Tom took a step closer to her. “What happened?”

“I heard a clatter. I jumped up and ran downstairs calling for her. When I found the basement door open in the kitchen, I rushed down the steps and found her lying at the bottom of the stairs. Sh-She was lying there with her eyes open. I tried to help her up, but I knew as soon as I touched her that she was gone.”

“The policeman I spoke with seemed to think your story was fishy,” Tom said. “Why was that?”

Alec could tell Tom already knew the answer but wanted to see if she would tell him the truth. He prayed for Libby to be honest and put to rest any doubts his cousin might have.

She looked at her hands. “We'd had an argument in town earlier that someone overheard.”

“And you threatened to kill her.”

“It wasn't like that!” She lifted her head and stared at Tom. “I said, ‘I could just kill you when you act like that.' That wasn't a threat. It was just a figure of speech. A really awful figure of speech.”

“What had she done?” Alec asked gently.

“She insulted the grocery store owner, then threw tomatoes at him. It was an ugly scene. I tried to stop her, but she was like that when she'd been drinking. There was nothing anyone could do. She was the sweetest person when she was sober.”

Alec heard the ring of truth in her voice. She'd loved her mother. He glanced at Tom and saw compassion. Tom could tell truth when he heard it.

T
WENTY
-E
IGHT

L
ibby felt like she'd been tossed around by a tidal wave. Could the sheriff actually suspect that she'd killed her own mother—and that she'd disposed of Nicole? Couldn't he see her heart? She'd started to tell Tom that someone had just tried to drown her, but then she saw the suspicion in the sheriff's eyes. He would think she was making it up to divert suspicion. What a mess.

It was none too soon for her when Sheriff Bourne's vehicle left the driveway and headed back to town. Alec stood at the bottom of the porch steps with his hands in the pockets of his khaki shorts. She'd been hoping to tell him about what she'd discovered from Pearl, but now she didn't have it in her.

Her eyes burned, and she rushed up the steps before she could disgrace herself by showing how much the sheriff's accusations had hurt her. Samson whined and trotted after her.

“Libby, wait! Tom is just doing his job.”

“His
job
is to find out who took my friend, not to railroad an innocent person!”

He mounted the steps to the porch and stopped in front of her. “Look at it from his point of view. Can't you see why he would have some suspicions?”

She was in no mood for his placating tone. “While he wastes his time investigating me, the real criminals are walking free. Don't you worry that the men might take another girl? Someone
you
know and love?”

That stopped him. She could see him processing her question.

“You're saying you don't think it was personal? That Nicole just might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time?” he asked.

“I don't know what to think. You hear of human trafficking though. Who knows but that's what these men intended? How did they know she would be there at that time? Maybe they just came ashore and saw a lone girl and decided to grab her.”

He stared at her. “You didn't try to rent a boat until nine.”

“What?” She didn't understand the sudden change of subject.

“The night Nicole disappeared. That means you didn't leave Virginia Beach until a good two hours after you called 9-1-1. Why?”

“No. I threw some clothes in a suitcase and left right away. Then I got stuck in a traffic jam from a jack-knifed truck.” Her ire rose. “Do you want to check with the state patrol? I came as quickly as I could.”

There would be no end to the suspicion and accusation. She was going to have to do this on her own. The realization made her pulse jump. But it wouldn't be impossible. She had years of experience uncovering the history of houses, interviewing previous owners, delving into the secrets of dusty pages. While this would be a different investigation, she had determination and love on her side.

“I can see I'm on my own now.” She turned to leave.

“You're thinking about doing this yourself? You'll just make Tom and the state detectives mad,” Alec said.

“What other choice do I have? The story Earl wrote is going to hit the papers soon, and we both know it's going to be slanted toward my guilt. The state isn't going to look any harder than the sheriff is. If I want to stay out of jail, I'm going to have to do this myself and find those men. And quickly. Before everyone in town is convinced I'm some kind of killer.”

“Let's start with a sketch of what you remember.”

“Are you going to help me or accuse me, Alec? I'm having trouble keeping it straight.” If he doubted her, she didn't think she could stand it. His opinion mattered way too much.

“I told you I'd help. We've already started. I haven't changed my mind.”

She searched his face. “For my father's sake?”

He nodded. “And for the sake of truth. Truth matters.”

She relented. Should she tell him about today's attack? “It doesn't seem to matter to anyone but us,” she said.

“What do you mean by that? Has something happened today?”

He had an uncanny perception. Where did it come from? She pointed to the rockers on the porch. “Let's sit down. This is going to take a few minutes.” What would he think when she told him what their parents had done to her and Vanessa? Would he still idolize her father? And would he believe a diver had really tried to drown her?

A breeze lifted the strands of Libby's light-brown hair, and the porch light glimmered on her tresses. A few bugs buzzed the lamp. Alec stretched out his legs in the rocker and petted Samson, who rested his head on Alec's knee. The dog huffed with pleasure. If only people were so easily pleased. Libby had her legs tucked under her on the swing. He waited for her to explain what was going through that beautiful head of hers.