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“So Barnes was a bad kid.” Despite her confusion, Scarlett felt a jolt of excitement at the old documents and what they meant to Grady.
“In another file, I found this newspaper clipping about an accidental drowning during a storm. A local boy by the name of George Barnes had been killed. An eighteen-year-old kid from California had tried to save him. A wealthy, orphaned kid by the name of Preston Rhodes.”
“Preston Rhodes?” Scarlett looked from the article to the photo. “As in Tiberius’s brother-in-law, the current CEO of Stone Properties? That explains why Tiberius had collected information on George Barnes. But what does it mean?”
“The article says Preston was traveling cross-country on his way to attend college on the East Coast. Thought he’d go out and do a little hiking.”
Despite the weird sensation crawling up her spine, Scarlett couldn’t discern anything in either the article or the photo that had prompted Grady’s call. “I’m not sure I understand what’s so important about this information.”
“Look more closely at George Barnes.” Grady was buzzing with excitement. “Does he remind you of anyone?”
“No. Yes. I’m not really sure.”
“He looks like JT Stone.”
“What?” Scarlett looked closer and the pieces slipped into place. “You’re right. What are you thinking, that this George Barnes guy and the Stone family are related somehow?”
“No.” Grady grew serious. “I’m thinking that Barnes and Preston Rhodes are the same guy.”
“How is that possible?” Then a door in her mind opened and a hundred detective-show plots raced through her brain. “You think George Barnes stole Preston Rhodes’s identity?”
“Why not? Barnes’s file paints a picture of a kid with no future. Mom’s a hooker. Dad’s probably one of her clients. He’d been in and out of the foster care system. Spent some time in juvy. Three of his buddies in the photo are in prison. Then he meets Preston Rhodes, a kid his own age who has money and no family, and who’s moving clear across the country to go to college. Who would know if George Barnes put his wallet in the dead kid’s pocket and assumed Preston’s identity?”
“And when Tiberius found out...” Scarlett stopped breathing as she absorbed the implication. “You think that’s why he was killed.”
“Makes a good motive.”
It certainly did. Perhaps it was time to let the police know what they’d discovered.
* * *
As Logan was turning into his driveway, his cell rang. It was Scarlett.
“Logan, you won’t believe what Grady and I found in Tiberius’s files.” She sounded both exhilarated and anxious. “We might have figured out who killed him.”
Logan entered his house and made a beeline for Madison’s room. Earlier that afternoon his sister had called. Madison hadn’t done as he’d asked and called her parents. Nor was she answering her phone. Giving her the summer to change her mind about college wasn’t working. It was time for her to go home.
“The police already have a suspect in custody. A detective buddy of mine has been keeping me updated on the case and he called to tell me that a little after noon today.”
Madison’s bedroom had an empty, unlived-in feel. No clothes cluttered the chair by the window. The dresser wasn’t littered with jewelry and cosmetics. Even as he crossed to the closet, his instinct told him what he’d find. Nothing. His niece was gone.
“Are they sure they have the right guy?” Scarlett’s doubt came through loud and clear.
“Positive.” Cursing, he retraced his steps down the hall and found a folded piece of paper on the breakfast bar. “He confessed that he was hired by Councilman Scott Worth to silence Tiberius and get a hold of some documents that proved he was embezzling campaign contributions.”
“That’s what he stole from my suite?”
“And grabbed some other random files to hide his true purpose.”
Madison had taken off for L.A. again. No wonder she wasn’t answering her cell. What the hell was she thinking?
“Oh, well, good.” Scarlett sounded less enthusiastic than she should.
“Did you ever talk to Madison?” he asked.
“No. I was going to and then Grady called.” Scarlett sounded subdued. “Have you tried her cell?”
“She’s not answering. She took off for L.A.”
“No,” Scarlett assured him. “She wouldn’t do that. Not without talking to me first.”
“Well, she did.”
“Damn.” Worry vibrated through Scarlett’s tone. “I really thought I’d gotten through to her.”
