Chapter 40
Bea had readily invited her in, and Paradise settled on one of the two tan sofas facing each other. Bea took the other one
once she’d brought in coffee. The pictures of her eight grandchildren on the wall had been updated with more recent ones since
Paradise was last here.
“Looks like your granddaughter is quite the volleyball player.”
Bea beamed and tucked a wayward curl of her salt-and-pepper hair behind one ear. “Oh, she is. She’s a junior and is being
recruited to USA.” Her soft drawl was all sweet tea and black-eyed peas.
“The University of South Alabama is a Division I school. She must be really good.”
“She’s a center and has interest from all over the country, but she’s set on USA. I’m happy about that since she can come
home when she wants.” Bea took a sip of her coffee and set it on the end table beside her. “What can I do for you, sweet girl?”
Sunlight slanted through the picture window and highlighted Bea’s face. Her wary expression warned Paradise the older woman’s
smile was a front. Bea knew hard questions were coming.
“How do you know Lloyd Adams?”
A tiny gasp escaped Bea. “I—I don’t know what you mean. He and his wife were friends a long time before they moved away.”
“You haven’t seen them recently?”
Bea reached for her coffee. “Why are you asking about him?”
“The police are questioning him in connection with Ivy Cook’s murder.”
“Murder? I thought a big cat killed her.”
“Someone hit her with a tranquilizer dart and let the tiger into the outer perimeter so it appeared the tiger killed her.
Someone is trying to destroy The Sanctuary. Adams took little Levi from our picnic last night, bound him with duct tape, and
hid him for us to find. The little guy was traumatized. Is that the kind of person you want as a friend?”
“Oh my, that’s terrible. You’re sure it was Lloyd?”
“Positive. And I know his car was parked in your driveway recently.” Paradise leaned forward. “Here’s the thing—I don’t believe
he’s acting alone. Someone else is telling him what to do, and I think you might know who’s pulling the strings. Not much
happens here in Pelican Harbor that you don’t know.”
The color washed out of Bea’s cheeks. “I’ll admit I realized Lloyd was involved in something when he stopped here recently.
Weeks ago he’d stopped by to ask me questions about when your parents were murdered, about your life before that, anything
I might know about toys and favorite movies, that kind of thing.”
A sick feeling settled in the pit of Paradise’s stomach. “You knew about the monkey music box and told him.”
Bea clenched her hands together in her lap and stared down. “I’m so sorry. We were just chatting, and I thought he wanted
to make amends for, you know, the difficulty. I thought maybe he wanted to get you a small gift to say he was sorry.”
Difficulty? The word seemed so innocuous for something so awful. “When did you realize it wasn’t a casual question?”
“I didn’t. I mean, not until he said something about you ruining his life. I got rid of him right away, let me tell you.”
Her gaze lifted. “I’m sorry, Paradise.”
Paradise realized her fists were clenched and forced herself to relax her fingers.
“He’s been terrorizing me with Phantom of the Opera lyrics, quotes, and memorabilia, so I’m sure he’s not the least bit sorry for anything.
And I ruined his life? I can’t grasp how he could blame me for his disgusting actions.
” She gulped and swallowed hard. “Did he say anything
about other people he’s seen recently? Do you know who he was closest to when he lived here? Any family or in-laws still in
the area?”
And had Paradise tried to remember any friends herself? She’d pushed so much about that time as far from her thoughts as possible.
Maybe there were things from those two years in the Adams household that might surface if she let them.
Bea rubbed the furrow that formed between her eyes. “I think most of his family is gone. Well, other than his cousin Roger.”
“Roger?”
“Your neighbor, Roger Dillard.”
How had she never realized Adams was related to the Dillards? He’d never been at the ranch when she was there, and Abby had
never mentioned it even when Paradise lived at the Adamses’. This new revelation sucked the oxygen from her lungs and made
her pause. With Bea staring at her, she found it impossible to think through what the connection between the two men might
mean—if anything.
She rose and slipped her purse strap over her shoulder.
“Thanks so much, Mrs. Davis. I appreciate your help. If you think of anything else, give me a call. You have my number.” As she rushed to the door, she had the sense she was fleeing some unseen evil.
Was a scary memory pushing its way out of her subconscious?
She threw herself under the steering wheel and closed her eyes a moment. Her heart fluttered in her chest, and her lungs squeezed
as panic swamped her. Whatever it was that was trying to emerge felt monumental and terrifying. The sensation ebbed, and she
opened her eyes.
It would come when it was ready.
The otter’s dark eyes stared at Paradise as if pleading for help. Roger moved out of the way to allow her to get closer. They
stood behind Roger’s biggest barn a couple hundred yards away from the pond where the otter had likely lived. A few curious
cows stared their way before heading to the pond.
When Paradise got the call from Roger, she’d been on her way to Mary’s from Bea’s house, but she’d swung around and headed
back. It wouldn’t hurt to ask Roger about Lloyd Adams since they were related. Being with Roger might help her dig up that
memory that refused to surface.
Paradise knelt on the muddy ground. The moisture soaked through the knees of her jeans. “Could you get her some water?”
Roger nodded before grabbing a bucket and heading to the hose spigot by the barn. The poor thing’s leg was mangled by the
trap, and Paradise’s gaze moved from the injury to the animal’s belly. The otter needed to be out of the sun more than anything
right now.
She pulled on thick leather gloves to make sure the animal didn’t try to bite in a frenzy of fear and pain. “I’ll get her
fixed up. I think she’s pregnant.”
Roger pushed his cowboy hat off his forehead. “Quinn found it before school, and I released it from the trap before calling you. I didn’t want to move it in case I did more damage.”
He grabbed a stainless-steel bowl and carried it back with the bucket of water. The breeze carried a whiff of his cologne,
a masculine scent of leather and hints of tobacco and citrus. She’d usually seen him later in the day when the smell had worn
off, and something about the leather and citrus combination brought familiarity that tugged at her memories. She struggled
to grasp the shadowy thoughts as she wrapped the otter’s leg and transferred her to a cage.
That whiff came again and this time brought an innate sense of revulsion. What was going on with her? Maybe the stress from
yesterday and the lack of sleep were playing with her emotions. She put the crate containing the otter in the back seat of
her Kia and turned to find Roger in her personal space. Her adrenaline surged, but she controlled her initial flight response
and smiled at him.
“I heard something interesting today. I didn’t realize you and Lloyd Adams were cousins.”
The smile on Roger’s face ebbed, and his gray eyes narrowed. “Who told you that?”
She didn’t want to implicate Bea in whatever had caused his mood change. “Does it matter if it’s true?”
He regarded her with a hard, appraising look, and in that instant she remembered. He’d been at the Adamses’ house the night
Lloyd had come into her bedroom. She’d run shouting and crying out into the yard where she’d stood hugging herself. A faint
conversation from the side yard had filtered through her hysteria. It had been between Mrs. Adams and Roger, and it sounded
like a lovers’ quarrel.
While she stood absorbing the facts in the dark of a moonless night, he’d come around to the front yard, and Mrs. Adams had followed. They both saw her standing there, and Roger had come toward her with his fists clenched. “You saw nothing tonight.”
“No,” she agreed, because she hadn’t. “Mr. Adams, h-he tried . . .”
His hard gaze took in her pajama top torn from one shoulder, and he cut her off. “Go back to your room and I’ll handle it.”
She’d done just that and had propped her desk chair under the doorknob to keep Adams from coming back in. There’d been no
argument or shouting from the other side of the door, so she didn’t know what he’d said. The next morning she wasn’t sure
he’d said anything at all. And maybe he hadn’t, but at least Adams hadn’t tried the door again.
The memory slammed into her. “You were having an affair with your cousin’s wife. Is that why you and Abby never talk about
him? Lloyd is trying to run us all off The Sanctuary.”
“I don’t intend to discuss it, not with you or anyone.”
His back rigid, he stalked off without another word toward the barn, where he disappeared from view. His reaction astounded
her since the affair had been fifteen years ago. Why would he be upset she remembered now?
She got behind the wheel and drove back to the park with the little otter. Once the animal was resting, she headed out Fort
Morgan Road toward the Steerforth house. The storm gathering on the horizon matched Paradise’s mood, and she dreaded the coming
confrontation as she mentally rehearsed what she intended to say to Mary. It might get as turbulent as the clouds roiling
over the water.
Mary was nowhere around when Paradise got out of the car.
Lightning flickered overhead, and the faint odor of ozone wafted to her.
She started to duck back into her car but spotted Mary under the house pilings.
She lay unmoving on the concrete near the storage door.
Lightning crackled as Paradise ran to kneel next to her on the cold concrete.
She touched Mary’s arm, and the woman groaned and moved her head. A large gash ran from her forehead to her chin, and blood
pooled under that side of her face. Her pulse was thready and fading. Paradise needed to stop the bleeding. She noticed an
open trash bag with clothing spilling out the top and grabbed a tee. The material sopped up the blood as she pressed it against
Mary’s wound.
Mary moaned, and her lids fluttered open. “I hoped he’d get arrested for Allen’s death, but it never happened. I’m sorry,”
she whispered. “All that money. And they had to have both properties.”
Both properties? “I’m calling an ambulance, Mary. Hang tight.” Paradise rose to run back for her phone.
The clouds opened up and dumped buckets of rain on her head as she thrust her phone into the pocket of her loose sweats. The gun. She pulled the little pistol out of her purse and tucked it into her other pocket, then ran through the deluge to rejoin
Mary. Water dripped from her hair and ran down her face.
A furtive shuffle came from her left, and spinning on her heel, she started to turn to face whoever was there.
Something struck her on the head, and she crumpled into the darkness.