Jennifer Morey - Front Page Affair

When they reached the gate, two Jeeps waited just inside, angled toward the road. Four men stood outside of the vehicles, all of them armed. They each held some sort of automatic weapon, the barrels long and pointed to the ground at the moment. Around their waists, pistols hung.

Fear shot into Arizona as the driver began to slow.

“Don’t stop,” Braden said.

Arizona could hear the driver breathing and his eyes were round, the green of them stark against his dark skin and the whites of his eyes.

“They must want us to drive through the gate,” she said, trying to calm him.

He drove past. The men outside the Jeeps moved as they did, facing their departure. But then they all climbed inside the Jeeps.

The taxicab driver’s eyes remained wide as he looked into the rearview mirror.

“Drive faster,” Braden said from the backseat.

The driver complied, as eager as them to get away. The dust cloud behind them rose higher.

The cab fishtailed around a turn and raced up a hill. On the other side was Soper’s Hole. Cresting the hill, it came into view.

The Jeeps stopped at the top of the hill. Arizona waited for gunfire. None came. She waited for them to chase them again. They didn’t.

“They’re not following.” Why weren’t they?

The driver slowed as they reached town. Then he pulled into a gas station and parked.

“Get out,” he said.

Braden tried to pay him but he waved his hand. “Get out. You walk from here.”

She and Braden did as the driver asked. When the taxi drove away, she said, “Gave him a pretty good scare.”

“Julian Blake gave him the scare.” He turned to her, each thinking the same thing. Why? Why was Julian Blake someone to fear on this island?

He started walking toward the center of Soper’s Hole. She jogged to catch up to him and then walked beside him on the sidewalk. Five minutes later they reached the busy town center. It was clean and beautiful. The street wasn’t in very good condition, but cars parked along the side and the sidewalk was dotted with black streetlamps. Big flowerpots were placed between, and multicolored, wooden benches offered seating along storefronts. People entered into and emerged from shops, walked along the street, talking, smiling, peering into store windows.

Then those that weren’t tourists began to take notice of them. At first Arizona thought she was mistaken. Why would they single them out? A man leaning against the enclave of the entrance to a gift shop puffed a cigarette as they passed, his dark eyes following them eerily. Two women sitting at one of two tables on the patio of a café spoke quietly together between glances at them.

A dark blue Cadillac slowed on the street, rolling beside them on the other side of parked cars. The window moved down. Crawford was driving. Why was he here?

“Everything all right?” he asked.

When she and Braden stopped walking, he stopped the car.

“We were just chased off Blake’s property,” Braden said.

Crawford looked from him to Arizona as though digesting that announcement. “Why don’t you both get in the car?”

Braden touched his hand to Arizona’s back and opened the back door for her. She climbed in and he got into the front passenger’s seat.

Crawford began to drive. “I can appreciate your concern for your sister, Mr. McCrae, but I’m going to have to ask that you leave the investigation to me.”

“His goons had guns,” Braden retorted.

“The more stormy weather you stir up, the harder it will be for me to do my job.”

Braden didn’t argue.

“I understand you feel helpless and you need to do something. Time is of the essence. But I assure you, I’m doing everything I can to find Tatum. Tortola is a quiet community. A safe community. I intend to do my part to keep it that way.”

“Are you going to talk to the hotel manager?” Braden asked.

“I just left there. And he explained what I suspected. Most around here like to leave Julian Blake alone. They prefer not to have any contact with the man.”

“Why is that?” Arizona asked. “Don’t you think that’s strange?”

“No one will ever say Julian is a friendly fellow. But that doesn’t make him a criminal. He prefers seclusion. Many come to islands like this for that reason.”

“But he has armed guards,” Arizona argued.

“I have seen no evidence of that. He is good at concealing his activities.”

Hearing the detective’s frustration, Arizona sighed. “You have to agree that it’s strange.”

“Oh, I do agree. There’s just not much I can do about it right now.” Crawford checked the rearview mirror. “Where am I taking you two?”

Braden told him the name of their hotel just as Arizona’s cell phone rang. She dug into her purse and retrieved it. Lincoln.

“Lincoln?”

“Hey, Arizona. How are you?”

“Fine, you?”

“Doped up on pain medication, enduring Mom’s care at home and working. And I just found something big.”

“What? You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I rest. When I’m awake, I work. You want to hear this or not?”

“What have you got?” Her words made Braden twist in his seat to see her and Crawford glance in his rearview mirror.

“A news report of a missing woman in Tortola. Three months ago. The article said she checked in at the Frenchman’s Point Hotel and was never seen again. She has a sister in Oregon. I gave her a call and she had something very interesting to say.”

“What was that?”

“The missing woman was having an affair with a man who lives in Tortola. His name is Julian Blake.”

Sucking in her breath, she met Braden’s eyes, which hardened at her reaction. “We were just chased away by the very same man. Tatum went to see him before she disappeared.”

Lincoln cursed.

Had Braden’s sister had an affair with him? Both women had disappeared.

Crawford kept looking in his mirror.

“Can we talk to her?” Arizona asked her brother.

“She’ll come to you. She’s on her way to Tortola now. I gave her your hotel information.”

The woman had been looking for her sister just as Braden now was.

“Thanks, Lincoln.”

“Glad to help any way I can. Vengeance for my knee.”

She ended the call and stared at Braden.

“What?”

She glanced at Crawford. “There was another woman who disappeared three months ago. She was having an affair with Julian.” She allowed Braden some time to process that. “She has a sister in Oregon.”

“I’m familiar with that case,” Crawford said. “If Julian is behind both disappearances, he’s covering his tracks well. He checked out when I questioned him.”

“Tatum would have told me if she was seeing someone,” Braden said.

“Would she have? Julian doesn’t seem like a typical boyfriend.” Far from it. And Arizona wondered why Crawford hadn’t told them about the other missing woman.

Chapter 4

Braden sat with Arizona inside the busy hotel restaurant. The first missing woman’s sister had called Arizona’s cell number when she’d landed and asked to meet them here. Braden didn’t want to put the woman in danger, but he was curious to see if one of the hotel staff would say or do something. The manager, perhaps.

A short, plump woman in her early thirties appeared, her peppered dark hair cut above her ears.

“That looks like the woman in the picture Lincoln sent.”

“That’s her.” Braden lifted his hand.

Charlene Andrews nervously approached. “Mr. McCrae?”

Braden stood and shook her hand. “Thank you for coming all this way.”

“I’ve been looking for Courtney for weeks. I’m glad to help in any way.”

“This is Arizona Ivy.”