Chapter Twenty-six
Ryan sat in Castaways with his elbows planted on the bar as he nursed a beer along with a piss-poor mood. All he’d done was try to help Leah, despite his misgivings, and he was the bad guy? Just went to prove money and friendship didn’t mix. Apparently love only made the problem worse.
When someone plunked a glass down on the bar and claimed the stool next to his, he glanced up and met Pete Brewster’s slightly glazed stare. Obviously the cocktail wasn’t his first of the evening.
“Drinking alone, Ryan?”
“Apparently not anymore.”
The irony in his tone was lost on Pete. “I don’t mind keeping you company while I wait for George and Brock. They’re late.”
Ryan stiffened. “Brock’s in town again? He was just here a couple of weeks ago.”
“Last time I checked, hanging out in Siren Cove wasn’t a federal offense. Astoria is only a few hours away, and he has friends here.”
“Astoria?” Ryan frowned at his old classmate. “Brock lives in Astoria?”
“That’s where he moved after that bi . . .” Pete’s voice faded beneath Ryan’s hard stare. “Uh, I mean after Leah divorced him and took him to the cleaners, despite my best efforts in the courtroom. Brock went into business with his uncle who lives there.”
“Un-freaking-believable.” Ryan pulled out his wallet and dropped a ten-dollar bill on the bar.
“You leaving without finishing your beer? What has your shorts in a wad? Afraid Leah’s going to cheat on you with her ex?” Pete’s smirk held little humor. “Hey, maybe that’s why my buddy’s late. He had a better offer.”
“Go to hell, Brewster.” Ryan strode out of the bar, letting the door slam shut behind him. The fog closed in around him as he headed toward his Jeep, climbed in, and started the engine.
Could Brock be the asshole conning seniors?
It didn’t seem likely he would have risked approaching Evie, even in disguise, but the man had always been brash. His headlights cut through the fog as Ryan pulled out onto the road and turned toward Leah’s house. One thing was certain, he intended to have a discussion with her . . . whether she liked it or not.
Tension thrummed across his nerves as he parked in her empty driveway a few minutes later. Obviously she was home alone, not that he’d believed Pete’s insinuations for a minute. After climbing out and pocketing his keys, he headed up onto the porch and knocked. A few hours before, he would have simply walked inside. Tonight, he didn’t plan to push his luck.
The door opened slowly, and Leah regarded him with wary eyes. She wore fleece pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt with her SOU college emblem on the front. Obviously she hadn’t dressed for company.
“Can I come in?”
With a nod, she held the door wide then shut it behind him. Without speaking, she led the way into the living room and curled up on one corner of the couch. He sat on the opposite end and tried to ignore the ache in his chest.
He met her gaze head-on. “I’m sorry, honestly and truly sorry if you think I questioned your character. I didn’t mean my gesture that way. I only wanted to help.”
“You consider fifty thousand dollars a gesture?”
When her voice rose, he cringed. “One meant to ease your anxiety. I only want you to be happy, and I know you hoped your grandma could stay in the senior apartments where her social life is centered.”
Leah’s feet hit the floor with a thump as she stood to pace the room. “She is staying there. I started to tell you she plans to move in with Magnus, her boyfriend . . . or whatever the heck you want to call him. You interrupted me with the check before I could explain.” Her hands shook a little as she fisted them on her hips. “Along with a helping of attitude. Don’t pretend you were thrilled with your noble gesture.”
“Evie’s moving in with Magnus? You’re okay with that?”
“It’s not my place to judge. She’s a fully competent adult who’s capable of making her own decisions. They seem to get along well, and I have the feeling they spend most of their nights together, anyway. If this man makes her happy and takes away the loneliness losing my grandpa caused her, then I’m going to support her choice.”
“Good for you. I wish my mom had remarried after my dad died. I know she struggled with depression over the years but battled her way out of it.” He shrugged. “Now she says she likes living alone. To each his . . . or her . . . own, I guess.”
“Exactly. We all make our own choices, and sometimes they’re mistakes. We learn from them, grow stronger, and move on. Having friends and family around to support us helps.”
He eyed her as she stopped by the window to stare out into the darkness. “I’ve admitted I made a mistake. Can we move past it? Please?”
“I’d like to think we can, and I apologize for snapping at you.” She turned to face him. “But I’m a little concerned. Do you believe everyone you meet is after your millions—or is it billions? Don’t you know me better than that?”
The hurt coloring her tone tied his stomach in knots. “I trusted Jay implicitly, and he screwed me over. Obviously the end result is I’m slower to place faith in people, but that doesn’t mean I don’t believe in your integrity.” He patted the cushion next to him. “Can you please sit down and stop pacing like a caged animal? Even Barney is disturbed.”
They both glanced over at the dog lying on the rug with his nose on his paws. Sad brown eyes followed Leah’s every step.
“He senses the tension between us.” She crossed the room and dropped down beside Ryan. “Okay, I’m listening.”
“Thank you.” Reaching out, he took her hand and held tight. “I realize we have a few things to settle between us. I love you, and I know you love me, but love doesn’t solve every problem. We loved each other back in high school, too.”
“Yes, we did, but don’t you think we’re smarter now and more willing to compromise?”
“I would certainly hope so. However, I didn’t want to confuse the situation between us by bringing any sense of obligation into play. My intention was to give you the money with no strings attached. The last thing I’d ever want is for you to feel beholden. However our relationship works out, I need to be one hundred percent certain you’re in it because I’m what your heart wants.”
“If you believe—”
He raised his voice. “Come on, Leah, don’t flip out on me again. If you did a big favor for me, don’t you think I’d want to respond in kind? It’s human nature to be grateful.”
She slumped against the cushions. “I suppose.”
“That’s why I was reluctant to broach the subject of helping your grandma out of her financial bind. This time around, I want nothing between us but honest feelings.” His grip on her fingers tightened as he tugged her closer and slipped an arm around her. “I guess I should have said all this before I pulled out my checkbook.”
Leah rested her head against his shoulder. “That would have been nice.” She waved a hand. “Look at my home, Ryan. Most of my possessions are hand-me-downs older than I am. My car was a relic. I dress like I shop at the thrift store, which I’ve been known to do on occasion. I’m in a profession where I take joy from inspiring kids, not in the size of my paycheck. Money is not my top priority in life.”
“I know that.”
“Yes, I’ve been worried, but only because I want my grandma to be happy. I’m not dismissive of financial security, but I also don’t let it rule my world.”
He laid his palm under her chin and tilted her face to look into her eyes. “You make me feel like a total schmuck.”
Leaning forward, she kissed him then stroked his cheek with her thumb. “You don’t need to feel bad about anything. What I want is for you to let go of Jay’s betrayal and learn to trust again. Hauling around baggage like that isn’t healthy.”
“Probably not, and I do trust you.” He kissed her back, a lingering caress that almost made him forget what he’d been about to say. “You’re everything I want. Everything I need, and I do believe we’re smarter now.”
“Obviously I haven’t gotten over my tendency to go ballistic before I think things through. And I’m still messy.”
“Yes, you are. And I’m still a neat freak.” His smile had a self-deprecating edge. “I hold grudges longer than I should. Still, I’m willing to make an effort to let go of the small stuff.”
“If we can both do that, the larger problems have a way of working themselves out with a little effort.” She slid her hand around to the back of his neck. “Thanks for being big enough to make the first move after I told you to take a hike. I literally took a hike with Nina and cooled off. I was planning to call you.”
“I’m glad, but I did have another reason for coming over. I stopped by Castaways for a beer and had a brief conversation with Pete while I was there.”
“I can’t imagine any good coming from that.”
“Apparently Brock’s in town again.”
“Ugh.” She screwed up her lips. “He didn’t mention anything about it when I talked to him over the weekend.”
Ryan frowned. “Why’d you talk to Brock?”
“He called after he heard about my wreck to express concern for my welfare. That was decent of him, actually.”
“Pete mentioned your ex lives in Astoria. Don’t you think it’s a bit of a coincidence the con man struck there so soon after he fleeced elderly residents, including your grandma, here in Siren Cove?”
“I did mention it to Brock. Of course he thought I was insinuating—”
“You told him?” Ryan reared back. “Before or after that dirtbag bailed on the meeting with his intended victim?”
“I think it was before. Why?”
“I don’t know.” He tried to ease off the sarcasm and failed. “Maybe because I’m wondering if Brock is the one robbing seniors.”
“Are you kidding?” She pushed his arm aside and jumped up from the couch. “Don’t you think Gram would have recognized my ex-husband, for crying out loud?”
“If his disguise was good enough—”
“Brock may be a cheating weasel, but he doesn’t have the IQ of a stump. If he was the man running the con, he would never have approached my grandmother. Maybe he would have risked targeting her neighbor, but not someone guaranteed to nail his ass! Geez.”
“If you’re sure . . .”
“Positive.”
“I still don’t like the coincidence of this guy hitting elderly targets both here and in Brock’s new hometown. Something about the whole situation doesn’t feel right. If the guilty party isn’t Brock, maybe he’s someone your ex knows. I’d bet my damn business he’s the one who tipped off the con artist before the police could arrest him. Nothing else makes any sense.”
“I don’t know . . .” She collapsed onto the couch. “You think this person is someone he met up in Astoria?”
“Or he could be a buddy from around here. Or an old college friend. Who the hell knows, but you told Brock, and the suspect bolted. Unless someone on the police force tipped off the dude, it must have been Brock.”
Leah held her head in her hands and let out a low moan. “God, I feel like an idiot. I never thought—”
Ryan scooted over beside her. “This isn’t your fault.”
She let out a breath and glanced up. Eyes dark with worry regarded him. “Then why do I feel like I totally blew it? Should we tell the police what we suspect?”
“Let’s not rush into anything without facts. Maybe we can figure this out ourselves, going off the assumption Brock helped this whack job evade arrest.” Ryan squeezed her shoulder. “Quit beating yourself up and think. You probably know most of your ex-husband’s friends. Let’s start with that and this game he plays with aliases. Why would any of Brock’s good buddies assume the birth names of vintage pop stars as a disguise?”
“I don’t know. Brock is a country music fan. No one our age listens to Tom Jones or Tony Bennett or any of the others. That music wasn’t even popular with our parents’ generation. More likely it was our grandparents who listened to them.”
“True. His victims are from the age group most familiar with those singers. Do you think this guy gets off on tempting fate? Some people live for an element of danger.”
“I suppose that could be it. But why use their birth names? Why singers and not movie stars? It all seems so random.”
“Okay, let’s go at this from a different angle. Who are Brock’s friends and relatives he’s tight with, men he would be willing to protect even if they committed a crime?”
Leah leaned back against the cushions and unclenched her fists. When Ryan picked up one hand to hold, she squeezed back. “His uncle Craig and cousin Del. Craig took him into their business after our divorce. I always liked both men, and I can’t imagine either one of them would commit a crime against the elderly.”
“We’re looking for a man around our age, so let’s consider Del.” Ryan pulled his phone out of his pocket and released her hand to type. “Is his full name Delbert Hooker?”
Leah nodded.
“Hmm, nothing pops. Of course, I can’t check to see if this guy has a record, but the police will do that.” He glanced up. “Let’s try a few other options. Who are Brock’s closest friends?”
“I don’t know who he’s hooked up with in the years since our divorce. As for old college buddies, he never kept in touch with anyone in particular after graduation. He spent his free time here in Siren Cove hanging out with Pete, and he’d get together with George whenever he was in town to visit his dad.”
“Okay, let’s start there.” He typed Peter Brewster into his phone and hit enter. “Hmm, that’s too bad. No flashing neon indicators to tell me Pete’s the guilty party. That idiot seriously rubs me the wrong way.”
“He was always a bad influence on Brock, encouraging him to party with the boys to the detriment of our relationship. Then he tried to shaft me during our divorce. That didn’t work out so well for either of them, since I had a better attorney.”
Ryan grinned. “Good for you.”
Her smile held a hint of old pain. “Water under the bridge now.”
“If we can’t nail Pete for this, let’s check out George.” He typed George Dorsey into his phone then scanned the results. When the name Arnold George Dorsey caught his eye, he paused. “Isn’t George’s dad named Arnold?”
“Yeah, why?” Leah leaned in to peer at his screen as he clicked on the entry.
“Well, holy shit, look at that.”
Leah read out loud, “Engelbert Humperdinck was born Arnold George Dorsey.” She turned to stare at him. “Oh, my God!”
“So, George knew he had the same name as a famous singer and thought he’d be clever by using the birth names of other similar performers as aliases.” Ryan dropped his phone on the coffee table. “What an idiot. If he’d used a bunch of random names and disguises, we’d never have figured it out.”
“You have to love an arrogant criminal who thinks he’s smarter than everyone else. Even back in school, George was kind of an irritating know-it-all.” Leah turned to face him with a thoughtful frown. “George moved back to town not that long ago. I wonder if he lived near any of the places where the other scams took place.”
“Pretty easy to find out. Even with this much information, we need to go to the police. Hopefully they can get a warrant to search his place and find enough evidence to make an arrest.”
“And recover my grandma’s money.” Leah pushed down on his thigh to lever to her feet. “Should we call now or go report this in person?”
“Let’s drive into town. I’ll feel more comfortable talking to someone face-to-face. Do you know how late the police station stays open?”
“Damn, I’m sure the office is closed by now, but I have Chris Long’s cell number. I’ll call to see if he can meet us, but first I need to go get dressed.” She glanced over at Barney, who lay on the floor whining, with one paw stuck under the end of the couch. “You okay, boy?”
“What’s his problem?”
She walked around the coffee table to crouch beside the dog. “Can’t you reach your stick?” Rising to her feet, she regarded the dog with a frown. “He brought home a stick from our walk earlier and hid it under the couch before I could take it away. He’s going to scratch up the floor if we don’t get it out for him.”
“I’ll move the couch. That thing is heavy.” Ryan stood and nudged her aside to grip the padded arm and swing the bulky sofa forward. “Can you reach it now?”
Barney lunged between them and came out with the prize clamped between his teeth.
“What the hell?” Dropping the couch with a thud, Ryan grabbed the dog’s collar. “That’s not a stick.”
“It’s not?”
“No, it looks like a charred bone. Drop it, Barney.”
The dog whined and tried to jerk away.
When Leah knelt to pry open his jaws, the object fell to the floor. Ryan scooped up the bone before the dog could retrieve it. Turning the grimy, blackened thing in his hands, he frowned.
“Looks like a femur that’s been through a fire and is splintered on one end. Barney might have caused some of the damage, chewing on it.”
When the dog jumped up and whined, Leah fended off her pet. “Is it a deer leg?”
Ryan set the bone on the back of the couch, out of Barney’s reach, then wiped his hands down the legs of his jeans and shuddered. “I’m no anatomy expert, but I’d swear that bone is human.”