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Tyler was taken aback. “I haven’t set foot in this garage until this morning. And I wouldn’t have then, but for seeing that you were about to fall flat on your beautiful butt. Anyway, why would I take your stuff? The cash those things would generate wouldn’t begin to cover the amount I’m looking for.”
“But my television, my laptop, my jewelry—everything is gone!” Against hope, she searched through the blankets and afghans once again. All she found was her old cell phone, the contract long expired.
“Did Hadley Wilson have access to this garage?”
Stormy shook her head. “No. He was arrested before I was, and he never raised bail. He went straight from the county jail to federal prison once he was convicted. If you’re thinking he hid the money among my things, the answer is, he didn’t. Besides, I wasn’t living here when I dated him.”
“Maybe your sister stored your stuff elsewhere for safekeeping.”
“I’ll ask. But that doesn’t seem logical. Anyway, there isn’t any other place to store them.”
Tyler wonderedhow long it would take for Stormy to hit on the truth—that her sister had searched the boxes for the stolen money. Stormy’s family had probably come to the same conclusion he had: Wherever the money was, it had not yet been touched. Stormy had made certain that all and sundry knew she’d raised her attorney’s fees by selling her business and house. While out on bail, she had been conservative, splurging not so much as an extra penny.
That didn’t prove she had no knowledge of where the money was, as she claimed. It simply meant she wasn’t stupid enough to go around spending ill-gotten gains while under surveillance.
Perhaps, Tyler chastised himself, he had alerted her to his presence too soon.
“Does this house have an attic?” he ventured.
Stormy moved as if in a trance to gather up shredded paper and stuff it into the empty boxes. “There’s an attic, but it’s packed to the rafters with things Mom and Dad put up there.” Stormy paused, managing a smile. “Mom never threw away anything.”
Tyler became thoughtful. If the money had been hidden among Stormy’s boxes, it was gone now. He could attest to that. But what, if anything, had Stormy had to do with the situation? Inviting him to help her go through her possessions had either been a gesture of her innocence or a monumental ruse.
It was time to finagle an interview with her family members. He coaxed her down the ladder.
“Do you suppose you could spare another cup of coffee? That was dry work.”
She led him from the garage through a catch-all room lined with hooks holding fishing poles, swimsuits, paddle boards, oars, deflated inner tubes and into the kitchen.
Two adults, the infamous Nina and Tully she’d mentioned earlier, he presumed, were in the breakfast alcove. They looked up in unison as Stormy entered, frowning when Tyler appeared behind her.
“I thought you told her no boyfriends,” Tully said to his wife.
The discourtesy angered Tyler, but Stormy spoke before he could correct the man’s assumption.
“Mr. Mangus is an asset-recovery agent,” Stormy announced stiffly.
Tully smirked. “Oh, yeah? Whose assets?”
“Those of the Beach Coast Savings and Loan,” Tyler answered, returning the rude volley lobbed his way.
“My brother-in-law, Tully Dawson,” Stormy put in. “I believe you’ve met my sister, Nina.”
Tyler nodded and leaned against the counter near Stormy while she poured coffee into their mugs. The moment was awkward, but he’d dealt with worse. And his response had had the effect of shifting Tully’s interest from Stormy to himself.
“You’re looking for Stormy’s loot,” Tully said. “It isn’t here, buddy. We’ve checked.”
Stormy pivoted away from the counter. “Checked?” Her eyes shot sparks. “You mean it was you who went through my things?”
“You got it. We’re not interested in being charged as accessories to a crime. Had to look, didn’t I, to see if you were pulling a fast one on us?”
Stormy huffed. “You believed me capable of stealing? Still do?”
Something’s rotten in Denmark, Tyler thought. Tully Dawson did not give off honest vibes. Clearly, the man had pawed through Stormy’s possessions for his own benefit. The idea made Tyler’s adrenaline gush as if from an uncapped oil well.
Then he saw the shock and devastation lurching across Stormy’s face. He wanted to jump in front of her, protect her from hurt, make her battle his own.
Good sense intervened. Reluctantly, he tempered his anger. Stormy had the passion to handle this situation on her own. Best he merely observe and gather as much perspective as he could. It was obvious the Dawsons believed Stormy guilty of the theft—and were piqued that she had not shared the windfall with them.
