Deadly Intentions by Candice Poarch Page A

shook his head. “If your family doesn’t find out tonight, they will by tomorrow.”
    â€œI’ll explain then,” Lisa told him.
    â€œI don’t understand why you want to keep it a secret.”
    â€œMy family is too protective. Just keep quiet about it, okay?”
    Brian nodded, clearly confused about her secretiveness.

    It was evening before Greg reached Justin. “Tell me what I want to hear. You have the bowl.”
    â€œNot yet. It’s going to take some time,” Justin said.
    â€œYou’ve had months.”
    â€œLook, you brought me in on this deal at the last minute. You should have called me from the beginning. But I’m working on getting you that bowl in time for the party.”
    â€œGive me the details,” Greg said.
    â€œThe less you know the better. Your brother wouldn’t want you involved in this.”
    â€œI’m handling this,” Greg insisted. “Not my brother. So talk.”
    That little pip-squeak couldn’t piss straight without his brother backing him. If Justin hadn’t been desperate for the money this one last deal would bring him, he’d never have taken the job from him. This was his last job before he retired and moved on to something different, something safe. Greg was paying him a lot of money so it was worth the risk.
    â€œWe went there today, but the housekeeper was there,” Justin said.
    â€œDidn’t you check the place out first?”
    â€œOf course I checked it out. She veered from her usual schedule.”
    Greg sighed. “Tell me what happened.”
    â€œShe’s dead.”
    â€œDid you get the bowl?” he asked impatiently. The bowl was the issue here. The fact that he’d killed a woman to get it was insignificant.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWhen are you going back?”
    â€œSoon. It’s too hot right now. The grandson has moved in.”
    â€œI contacted you because you stress that you can get the job done. Try harder.” Greg slammed the phone down. Everybody he’d sent after that bowl had ended up dead. Justin was his last resort. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the damn thing was cursed—if he believed in that nonsense.
    He’d hired the best. What was it about that damn bowl—about the Claxton family that made that bowl impossible to grasp? It had moved from owner to owner and every time, something had happened.
    Greg didn’t believe in superstition. His brother had admired that bowl a couple of years ago when they attended the Founder’s Day festival. Nicholas had done so much for him. It was time he repaid him with a special gift—if the incompetent fools ever got the job done.

    Lisa left Brian sleeping on her grandmother’s recliner in the den when she went outside. “How long do you think it’ll be before she moves back in this time?” her uncle Cleve Claxton teased.
    Her father shook his head and frowned. “Don’t even say it. Every time she moves out she moves right back in. Even though she’s gone, she’s taken over half my garage.”
    Everyone had a hearty laugh over that one. Lisa, the loser. Ha, ha, ha.
    Lisa swallowed the lump in her throat. “Dad, I need space for my supplies.”
    Her father grunted.
    All her cousins had left home and never moved back. Her dad was right. Every time she saved enough and moved out, something happened and she found herself right back where she started. She promised herself this time she would succeed.
    Famous last words. Lisa stifled an ironic chuckle. She’d said that every time she’d moved out.
    â€œJust stop it right now,” Naomi said, and everybody clammed up. Nobody wanted to get on her bad side. She knew where all the skeletons were. “Lisa is already on her way. She’s doing very well. I’m proud of her. She’s doing her best. That’s all you can ask of her. She’s got talents we’ve yet to