Chapter 9
Paradise fastened her seat belt but waited until her brother got in the back seat of the truck and Blake started the engine.
She gave a last, lingering look at the house where her life had changed forever. Coming back here wasn’t something she wanted
to do ever again. It was too painful.
Blake turned the truck toward the Kate Norris Bridge. His window was down, and the salty scent of the Gulf wafted in as they
passed the houses on stilts along County Road 1. “What did you remember?”
“I was thinking about the tree house and how I would lie back on the boards and listen to the neighbors arguing. I heard that
a lot and was always thankful that my parents never fought. But they argued a few days before they were killed. Mom had given
me a muffin and told me to go outside, so I took my book and climbed to the platform. It was Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I’d already hugged my dad goodbye because he had a business trip. Mom seemed tense that morning and kept glancing out the
window.”
Blake reached over and took her hand. “You’re shaking.”
She hadn’t realized it. When she laced her fingers with his, the trembling stopped. “The screen door was open, and I heard Dad yelling at her. He said, ‘Becky, you had a child with another man and never told me. Who is he? And how could you keep something like this from me? And don’t try to lie.
I heard the message from the private investigator on the answering machine.’”
Behind her in the back seat, Drew gasped. “Granger knew about me? What did you think when you heard about it?”
“I sat up and wished I had my binoculars. I was mad. I’d asked and asked for a baby brother or sister, and Mom never said
a word about me already having an older brother. I was ready to go down and join Dad in yelling at her.”
“What happened next?” Blake asked.
“Mom started crying and apologizing. She said she wanted to tell him but was afraid he’d be angry. Mom said she’d been contacted
by a private investigator who was looking for information about you, Drew. Someone was trying to find you.”
“I’m here now.” His voice was grim. “And this time I’m looking too.”
“Do you know if your mom told the PI anything?” Blake asked.
Paradise closed her eyes and tried to sort the memories flooding back. “She told him she didn’t know anything. She said the
PI started stalking the house and threatened to tell Dad if she didn’t reveal Drew’s real name and whereabouts.”
Drew leaned back. “Who would hire a PI to track me down? It seems very odd.”
Paradise released Blake’s hand and reached for a water bottle to soothe her dry mouth. “And about the time my parents were
killed. Was the PI’s client the person who killed your dad, Drew? It would make sense.”
“And maybe he killed all three of them,” Drew said. “This is even more connected than I thought it would be. What if the man she kissed was my dad?”
Paradise sipped her water. “That’s what I wondered.”
“Was there any clue to who the PI might be?” Drew asked.
She stared out the window toward the bridge. “I didn’t hear a name. But what if we could find that old answering machine?
My cousin Lily had a few of their things in a box. She was going to get it for me when I was there a few weeks ago, but it
didn’t happen. We could get it and see if the answering machine is in there.”
“We could try, but it’s not likely she kept something like that,” Drew said. “Could you arrange for us to go see her? I want
to meet her anyway.”
“You could invite everyone over for a cookout,” Blake said. “The whole family would likely want to meet Drew—especially Rod
since they’re both in law enforcement.”
“That’s a great idea,” Paradise said. “When?”
“How about Sunday? Drew can find out what a Gulf Shores shrimp boil is like. I’ll grab shrimp from Billy’s Seafood and corn
on the cob from the farmer’s market. We’ve got sausage and potatoes.”
“I’m already drooling,” Drew said.
Paradise pulled out her phone and began to tap out a message. “I’ll ask Lily to bring the box of stuff with her.” Paradise
sent off the message, then started another to the rest of the family. “I’ll tell them to come at six.”
“That gives us two days to do some other digging,” Drew said. “What about their best friends?”
“Trisha and Wes Miller. They were good friends with my parents ever since high school. They played cards together almost every
weekend.”
“They have to know something.”
“Trisha admitted she knew about you, but she wouldn’t tell me anything more.”
“Maybe she’ll talk to me when she sees Becky’s son in the flesh. The shock might loosen her tongue.”
Paradise glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “It’s almost time for her pottery shop to close. We could try to catch her
before she leaves.”
“I guess that means we’re turning around.” Blake braked and swerved into the parking lot of the Mary Ann Nelson Park.
Closed. Blake took a step back from The Red Firepot. The pottery shop’s hours clearly read it closed at five, but it was only four
thirty. “She must have gone home a little early tonight. She and Wes live down the road from Hez and Savannah’s house. I saw
them in the yard the first time Hez showed me the property.”
He held Paradise’s hand, and they walked back to his truck with Drew on their heels. Drew practically vibrated with his need
to find out what had happened. His detective mindset might actually solve this mystery. Blake couldn’t wait for the load to
be off Paradise. The danger felt ever present, and he wanted it to end.
His phone sounded, and he answered a call from Rod on the dash. “Hey, Rod.”
“Good news, Blake. The state agreed with us on keeping the lemur in your care at The Sanctuary. But be aware that Creed is
back in town early. He’ll be coming your way when he hears the news.”
“I’ll be ready. Thanks for the help, Rod.” Blake ended the call and his gaze met Paradise’s. At least they had the law on
their side.
Stilts elevated the white bay cottage with its hipped metal roof.
A white SUV sat in the drive in front of an open garage door that revealed a blue car parked inside.
Blake didn’t spot anyone moving around the yard or in the garage.
He pulled his truck into the double-width drive and parked beside the SUV. “Let’s see if we can find them.”
“I hope her husband is home,” Drew said.
Pink azaleas bloomed along the front porch, and a large stand of rhododendrons blocked the view to the neighbors on the left.
The breeze carried the scent of salt and fresh paint to his nose. Maybe they were working on the house.
“Wait here,” he told Paradise and Drew. “I’ll bet they’re outside.” Blake went up the steps to the porch and pressed the doorbell.
After two more tries, he rejoined them. “Let’s check around back.” He sensed Drew’s impatience to go first, but to his credit,
the detective let him take the lead.
The white paint on the side of the house still glistened. In the backyard he spotted paint trays filled with soapy water and
brushes by the back steps. An elevated deck had a view of a pier with a boathouse at the end of it. Two figures sat on the
pier with their legs dangling toward the water.
“There they are,” Paradise said.
The three of them walked down the sloping backyard, but the Millers didn’t spot them until they stepped onto the boards.
Wes Miller’s face turned their way. He was in his sixties with a neatly trimmed graying beard. He was mostly bald with very
short gray hair at the temples. His gaze darted from Blake to Paradise and then to Drew before focusing back on Blake. He
nudged his wife, and they both stood to face them. Trisha had white paint on her hands and arms, but Wes was mostly paint
free.
Trisha’s welcoming smile was stiff on her face, which was pink and perspiring from exertion. “Blake, Paradise, this is a surprise.”
Paradise stepped closer to them. “We stopped by the shop first and saw it was closed, so we came by hoping to catch you for
a few minutes. This is Drew Bartley. Andrew Bartley, my brother.”
The pink washed out of Trisha’s cheeks, leaving her pale. “Y-your brother.” Her gaze lingered on Drew’s face. “You and Paradise
both look a lot like Becky, same coloring and all.”
“So we’ve been told,” Drew said. “I’m sorry to bust in on you like this, but Paradise and I are trying to find out who murdered
her parents and my father.”
Trisha blanched more. “Your father is dead too?”
“Right before our mother and Granger died. Peculiar, don’t you think?”
Trisha wet her lips. “Coincidence.”
“Unlikely. Especially now that Paradise has remembered an argument her parents had a couple of days before they were killed.
A PI was looking for information about me and my father. Did he contact you?” Drew quirked an eyebrow in Wes’s direction.
“Either of you?”
Trisha shook her head, but before she could speak, her husband placed his hand on her forearm. “There’s nothing to protect
now, honey.” His voice was a deep Southern drawl.
“But I promised—”
“And the truth is already out about Drew. There’s no longer a promise to keep.” Wes nodded toward the house. “I hear some
sweet tea calling my name. Let’s settle on the deck and we’ll tell you what we know.”
Trisha set her jaw in a mutinous scowl, but Blake knew her husband would spill it all if she refused. They might get somewhere today. He took Paradise’s hand, and they all trooped toward the sprawling deck on the back of the house.
A white cat came down the steps to greet them and curled around Paradise’s ankles. “Who’s this beauty?” She scooped the small
feline into her arms and followed their hosts up the steps.
“That’s Bunny, named by our granddaughter. She was a stray who wouldn’t leave once Trisha fed her.” Wes headed for the door.
“I’ll be right back with sweet tea.”
An awkward silence descended until Trisha gestured to the chairs. “Have a seat.” She perched on the edge of a blue Adirondack
chair. “I’m not sure what you think we know. It’s probably not as much as you hope.”
Drew sat across from her. “Do you know my father’s name?”
“I know his first name, but that’s all. I know he came from a wealthy family. In Louisiana I think.”
Blake exchanged a dismayed glance with Paradise. That wouldn’t narrow it down much. Paradise started to speak, then shut her
mouth. They’d let Drew handle the questions. He was the expert at interrogation.
“What was his first name?” Drew asked.
“Ben. Becky called him Benny, and he didn’t let anyone else call him such a silly name. He was eight years older, but she
didn’t care. I tried to caution her against him, but she wouldn’t listen. Until the day his wife showed up.”
Paradise gasped and put her hand to her mouth. “He was married?”
“Very married. With a three-year-old daughter. It devastated Becky, and she broke it off. Two weeks later she found out she
was pregnant. As far as I know she never told Ben.”
Drew gulped. “Was he looking for me?”
Wes came through the door with a tray of ice-filled glasses and a pitcher of tea. “Here we go.”
“I told them everything I know,” Trisha said.
Wes set the tray on the table and began filling the glasses. “Then I’d better tell them the rest.”