Deadly Intentions by Candice Poarch Page B

hope her ex-husband’s nieces and nephews don’t think they’re going to get Aunt Harriet’s estate. They divorced decades ago.”
    Lisa was disgusted. The woman wasn’t buried and the vultures were circling already. Had she acted like that when Aunt Anna died?
    The woman elbowed the man in the side. They both faced Lisa and Brian. “You all go inside,” the man said. “My mom is there.”
    The older woman inside was a few years younger than Harriet and sported reddened eyes. Several younger people were sitting around the table. Someone took the platter from Lisa.
    Brian and she were immediately introduced to Harriet’s two sisters. Their children were organizing things for the funeral—writing newspaper articles, getting the program together.
    â€œI’m so sorry for your loss,” Brian said.
    The sister nodded. “She thought a lot of your grandfather. Does he know?”
    â€œNo. I sent a message, but it could be weeks before it reaches him. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”
    â€œWe have everything under control,” the sister said. “Our children are helping us make the arrangements. I have your number and I’ll let you know as soon as we decide on a date.”
    Brian nodded.
    They stayed a few minutes visiting with the family before they left.
    â€œYou don’t think the ones on the porch had poor Harriet knocked off for her estate, do you?” Lisa asked, backing the car out of the driveway.
    â€œNo, I don’t.”
    Lisa turned on the radio and found the news. A body was missing in Norfolk.
    Detective Wright called Brian, telling him someone would meet them at his grandfather’s house.
    But it wasn’t just someone, it was the detective himself.

    Justin was pacing near his front window when he noticed the cars pulling up in the driveway across the street late that afternoon. He watched the detective, Knight’s grandson, and the cleaning woman enter the Knight house.
    The detective broke the crime-scene tape on the door. Justin frowned as lights popped on in room after room. He was hoping the police would get rid of the tape, but it really didn’t matter one way or another with him.
    His cell phone rang, but he didn’t take the time to look at the number.
    They were there for fifteen minutes before they came outside. The woman was carrying a duffel bag. A bag that could very well be holding the golden bowl. He thought he’d checked the place thoroughly, but maybe he missed some hiding places.
    The three stood by the car talking for a few minutes before they left.
    Justin got into his car and followed the younger two. The maid dropped the guy off at the same motel where Justin had a room. He frowned. Was that just a coincidence or did this guy know something?
    The woman didn’t get out. After the guy went into the motel room, she drove off. Justin knew where the guy would be. He followed the woman. He was uneasy. Tootsie had stayed at an artist colony on Paradise Island. He’d rented a car and driven through just to get the lay of the land when he first arrived in the area for this project.
    He’d have to lay low. Escaping from an island wasn’t easy if you didn’t have a boat handy. Ferries ran on schedule, but he didn’t want the tiny police force waiting for him there. Then there was the Coast Guard. Things here were too iffy.
    But instead of getting into the ferry line, she drove past it and turned around.
    Justin sure hoped she wasn’t watching for him, because he made a U-turn and stayed behind her as she drove through town. He wasn’t letting that bag out of his sight.
    She certainly wasn’t headed back to the motel, he thought as he followed her for several miles. She turned into a seafood restaurant and parked. Night had fallen. He waited until she and a few others had gone inside before he approached her car.
    It only took seconds to get