“I was hoping you’d offer because, right now, there’s no other place I’d rather be.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
They stopped at Raine’s to let Tessa leave a note for her roommate and pick up a few things she’d need for an overnight stay. She collected her toothbrush and toiletries, a change of clothes, and stuffed a robe down into her bag.
At the market they browsed for fresh yellowtail snapper and settled on a fifteen pounder Jackson could pan grill. He grabbed eggs and milk while Tessa headed down the produce aisle, picking out a bundle of asparagus and the makings for a salad.
Even weighed down with the shopping bags, the easy stroll to the cottage took less than five minutes. But before reaching the front door, Jackson pulled up short and pointed to the Patagonia Pike moored practically across the street from the bungalow. “Look how low she sits in the water. They’re loaded with supplies and gearing up for an expedition to somewhere.”
“You don’t think that’s odd for them to anchor so close?”
He did, but sending alarm bells running through her was the last thing he wanted, especially today. “It’s a free country. During the last week, I’ve seen the crew come and go in the harbor.” He unlocked the door and carried the groceries into the tiny kitchen. Heaving the bags on top of the counter, they began to unload the sacks.
The salvage boat forgotten, he tried to pamper her by plopping her down at the table to watch him cook. But that didn’t last longer than the need to throw a salad together.
“I’m not an invalid. I can help with dinner,” she insisted as she took out a knife to slice and dice the vegetables.
“You aren’t used to being coddled, are you?”
Had she ever been coddled? she wondered. “I guess not. My mom died when Ryan and I were still in middle school. There was no one around after that to spoil us about anything. Dad worked long hours to pay Mom’s mounting medical bills. Ryan usually tried to ease his burden while I kept the home fires burning, cooking, cleaning, that sort of thing. I guess by the time my mom had been dead several years and he joined that online dating site, he thought he deserved a little attention of his own.”
Jackson dumped rice into a boiling pot, lowered the burner. “It’s a shame he didn’t get it with Suzanne. I’m looking forward to meeting this infamous femme fatale.”
“You shouldn’t be. She’s a viper. It’s funny how people think she’s so charming and normal. Of course those are members of the country club she joined. She acts like she’s from old money when in truth she’s more of a phony than anyone I’ve ever met.”
“You don’t think she had anything to do with Ryan’s death, do you? How did Suzanne feel about Ryan? How does she feel about you?”
The question had her fumbling the knife she used to chop up the peppers. “As much as I detest my stepmother that’s how much she detests us. The feeling is quite mutual.”
“But you mentioned something about when your dad dies all his money will go to her, right?”
“I did say that, but it was an assumption, an off the cuff attempt at humor. In truth, I’m sure my dad would never even consider leaving his children out of his will.”
Jackson dropped the fish into a skillet. “Just how greedy is this woman?”
A sick look crossed Tessa’s face. “Greedy enough to insist on my father taking out life insurance to the tune of two million dollars and making her the beneficiary.”
“With you and Ryan out of the way, she’d get his entire estate. I don’t want to freak you out or anything, but if we’re making a list of suspects, it’s something to consider.”
“Maybe she hired someone to follow Ryan down here from Nags Head.”
“Would she do something like that?”
“I don’t know.” Tessa took out dishes from the cupboard to set the table. “But once when Suzanne got mad at a neighbor she told us she knew the right people who could make things happen. About a month later, the lady’s house caught fire. Luckily, the woman and her children managed to get out in time and escaped without any injuries. But I always wondered if Suzanne’s threat was connected in some way. When I mentioned it to Dad he dismissed it, said Suzanne was just trying to impress us with a lot of big talk. Believe me, it had the opposite effect on everyone but Dad.”
Jackson removed the pan-seared snapper onto their plates and dished out the rice. “I’m curious. What had the neighbor done to piss her off?”
“She let her little boy wander over the property line with his dog and the dog pooped on Suzanne’s prize tea roses.”
“You’re kidding? That’s it? This woman sounds like a piece of work. How did Suzanne act when you announced you were coming down here to look for Ryan?”
A slow moving fear spread to the pit of Tessa’s stomach. “Suzanne was against it, told me it was a waste of time, that he probably just wanted a break. Now that I think about it, she did everything she could to keep me from coming here.”
With that charge hanging in the air, Jackson got out two beers from the fridge. They sat down to supper under a cloud of doubt.
When he realized the mood had darkened, he laid a hand over hers. “Look, we’re probably letting our imaginations take off into the irrational and the wild. Something you definitely don’t need right now. I hate it that you have to go through this. But we don’t dare deny that the situation calls for thinking outside the realm of normal.”
“Granted I might have a wild imagination, but just in case, I’m asking Anniston to look into Suzanne’s background.”
“There you go, an even better plan.”
“Jackson, do you really think Walker murdered my brother?”
An unsuitable topic for sure, Jackson decided. “I’ve been thinking about that and I don’t know. If I believe Walker killed Ryan, then I have to consider the possibility he did the same thing to Livvy and the kids.”
She wanted to be mad at his change of heart, but understood the logic of that. “You know what? I think we should table any further discussions about murder and enjoy the food you fixed.”
He locked his fingers into hers and kissed the top of her hand. “An excellent suggestion. Did you know my grandmother was a combat nurse assigned to a MASH unit during the Vietnam War? Her sister, Tansy Williamson, a photojournalist, got the idea to travel over there and take photographs of my nana in action.”
He stood up and crossed over to where an older photo hung on the wall. “This is the shot Tansy took of my grandmother in her nurses outfit tending to an injured soldier that made the cover of Time magazine.” He tapped the glass. “Tansy behind the lens, my nana in front.”
“You come from interesting stock, Jackson.”
He chugged his beer and smiled. “I really do. You know, when I’m around you, you get me to thinking about things I’d forgotten.”
“I wish I could’ve met your nana.”
“Me too. She was a feisty individual long before anyone ever heard of the feminist movement. She used to wear these crazy hats around town so she wouldn’t get too much sun. That’s before all the warnings came out and every kind of sun screen hit the market.”
“Sounds like your nana was ahead of her time.” Tessa leaned over and began to nibble his jaw. “Let’s hurry and clean up the dishes and go to bed. What do you say?”
“I like the way you think.”
Jackson was fast asleep with Tessa nestled beside him when he heard what sounded like a thud hitting the front of the house. He sat up, rummaged through the nightstand drawer, grabbed a hefty two-foot-long flashlight he found there and tossed back the covers. The floor creaked as he made his way to the bedroom door, wishing he’d followed through with Michael Tang and bought a gun.
The minute he turned the handle, Tessa shot up like a rocket, still in a sleepy stupor. “What’s wrong?”
He put a finger to his lips for quiet and motioned that he’d heard a noise and intended to check it out.
In spite of his protests, Tessa crawled out
of bed to follow on his heels. “I’m going out there with you,” she whispered.
“That stubborn side to you is annoying,” Jackson muttered.
“Get used to it,” she said, and grabbed her robe.
They tiptoed down the hallway, past the bathroom to the living room. He crossed to the window, peered out onto the lawn.
“See anything?”
“No.” He went to the front door, opened it up enough to see if anyone was on the porch.
The brown envelope, the nine by twelve variety, had been propped up against the front door and fell into the open doorway. In bold letters printed across the width, it was addressed to “Livvy’s Surviving Family.”
Jackson leaned down to scoop it off the mat, but before he could, Tessa warned, “You don’t want to handle it. Maybe they left fingerprints or DNA. Let me find something to use to protect it.” She dashed off to the kitchen to grab a potholder or dishtowel.
While Tessa did her thing, Jackson used the time to scan the street and the harbor from the doorway. There were no cars moving, no shapes or shadows lingering anywhere near the house. He squinted in the direction of the harbor and noticed the Patagonia Pike had its running lights on, motoring out of the bay.
When Tessa reappeared, she handed off two potholders for Jackson to use to grasp both sides of the packet.
They treated the envelope as if it were an explosive device, using a pair of tweezers to undo the metal clasp and pull out the document—a single sheet of paper, computer-generated, three paragraphs long.
The letter read like someone had ripped the pages out of the middle chapter of a thriller. Jackson stared at the words, unable to focus.
It was Tessa who began the gut-wrenching narration.
As soon as she’d finished the last word, Jackson felt like he might be sick. “Call everyone, get them rounded up. They need to know about this.”
“Jackson, it’s four-thirty in the morning.”
“I don’t care. Either we go to them or they come here.”
Tessa dug out her cell phone. “With limited space here, I’d say it’s better if we do this at your Mom and Dad’s. But that would mean we’d have to transport the note and use additional care handling it. I think that’s a bad idea. We should get everyone over here.”
“Fine, just do it,” Jackson muttered. “When will this nightmare ever end?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
An hour later, they’d thrown on clothes and made coffee and got ready to greet their sleepy band of sleuths.
Anniston arrived first, half-awake and cranky. She was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact someone had left a note when Jackson handed her a mug.
“Thank God for caffeine.” Using both hands to grip the cup, Anniston took a seat on the couch, the whole time eyeing the document still on the coffee table. “This case just keeps getting weirder.”
Jackson took a sip from his own cup, playing lookout at the front door for the rest of the family. Too angry, too upset to sit, he railed into the early morning dawn. “We’ve suspected from the start sick people scuttling around in the dark is pretty much how this whole thing got started. I just don’t think we were prepared for a blow by blow detail like this.”
“Who would write such a thing?” Tessa asked.
“The same person who murders little kids,” Jackson barked. He rubbed his forehead. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
She rubbed his back. “It’s okay. I know it hurts.”
When Anniston got too close with her coffee, Tessa took up guard around the note. “Try not to spill anything on it. And before you ask, we never touched it with our bare fingers.”
“Good thinking. It hadn’t crossed my mind because it’s a little early for me. At this hour I’m barely able to form a cognizant thought.”
Lenore walked in, gave her son a big hug. “So this is where you two have been hiding out.” She patted Jackson on the back and whispered in his ear, “You should buy this place, move back home and get out of that concrete jungle you call Manhattan.”
“Mom, not the time or the place.”
“Just saying.”
Tanner grumbled as he came in behind his wife, followed by Mitch and Garret. “What’s this all about anyway? Where’s the damned coffee?”
Lenore pushed her husband and sons toward the kitchen. “I’m sure it’s not in the living room.” She pointed toward Jackson. “We still have to wait for Raine. We don’t start without her.”
Raine showed up last, but she’d stopped to pick up a dozen pastries and croissants from the French bakery on Seafarer Way. “After Tessa’s phone call I thought we might need butter-laden dough with our sugar high.”
Mitch took the box and flipped up the lid. He made a sound in his throat that sounded like pure pleasure. He picked out a cruller, took a generous bite. Showing his gratitude for the food, he bent his head, placed a kiss on Raine’s forehead, then her cheek. “Good call. You always did think of everyone else first.”
Raine tilted her head at the compliment. “Have you been drinking? If not, you must still be half asleep.”
“Now Blondie, that’s just mean. It’s too early for that kind of wanton aggression.” He watched as she pushed past him into the kitchen.
“If I have to put up with your attempt at being nice, I’ll need a gallon of coffee.”
After everyone served themselves coffee and sweet rolls, dragged chairs in from the other rooms, they huddled together in a circle in the small den as Tessa used the tweezers again to hold the paper in place. She began to reread the chilling account of how Walker, Livvy, and the kids had supposedly died.
“‘Your sister suffered. I made sure of that. I beat her before putting a bag over her head and strangling her just as I did Walker. I suffocated him first, though, made sure he was dead. I did the same thing to the bratty kids. The little boy begged me not to hurt his daddy. The boy was so scared he wet his pants. The girl wasn’t much better but at least she showed some gumption. She tried to kick at me. She was still screaming and fighting when I put the bag over her head and watched her slowly die. I watched each one take their last breath and enjoyed every minute of it. Although it was over too quick to suit me.’”
Tessa stopped, put her hand on her stomach. “Someone else has to finish. I think I drank my coffee too fast or something. I feel sick.” She dashed down the hall to the bathroom.
Anniston leaned over the table to read without bothering to pick up the note and continue where Tessa had left off.
“‘They didn’t live long after I took them. But did I mention your sister tried to get away? She crawled on her belly before I hit her in the head and crushed her skull. She still wasn’t dead though and begged for her life. Don’t think you’ll ever find me. And you’re wasting time looking for the bodies. You’ll never find their makeshift graves. The swamp is a very unforgiving place. Decomposition begins immediately. It tears at the skin. And the ’gators use them for food. You might as well accept they’re gone for good.’”
Anniston let those last disturbing words hang in the air before she took inventory. Lenore had leaned her head on Tanner’s shoulder and softly sobbed. He put his arms around his wife, unable to find any words of comfort.
Raine had tears streaming down her face. It warmed Anniston to see Mitch reach over and take Raine’s hand in his.
She searched out Garret’s eyes, eyes that were cold and distant. Anniston could almost see the guy plotting revenge. She finally cleared her throat to get everyone on the same page with what had to be done. “After we’ve thoroughly vetted this thing and spent hours discussing the way this asshole formed his thoughts, we’ll need to tag and bag the letter and envelope as evidence and send it off to the lab for analysis.”
It was the athlete who was forced to put on his game face. Garret needed to explore every avenue. “The thing is, how do we determine if we’re dealing with someone who’s simply yanking our chain or making a genuine confession?
”
Raine gently removed her hand from Mitch’s grasp to wipe away tears. “But who would make something like this up if it wasn’t true?”
Mitch sipped his coffee. “There are plenty of crazies out there who get their rocks off doing exactly that. Look at the poor mother back in Chicago in 1957 whose two daughters disappeared. For weeks afterward before the bodies were discovered the mother received a host of crank calls and ransom demands even though later it was determined her girls died within five hours of going missing. During times like this, a few rotten apples rise to the occasion with all the malicious intent of predators.”
“But who knew there would be so many rotten apples in the place where we grew up?” Garret pondered, pushing his remaining pastry to the side. Either the rush of sugar made him queasy or it was the idea that his sister and her kids might’ve suffered a horrible fate. His stomach felt tied in knots. “Mom and Dad have already received a few disturbing phone calls in the middle of the night, heavy breathing to boot. I’m surprised the phony ransom demands haven’t kicked in yet.”
Raine absorbed the sickness in that. “So you don’t think this note is for real? I’m not sure I agree. It sounds real enough to me.”
While Jackson listened to the discussion ramp up, unlike the others, he could see it in his head, could see Livvy’s fear, could almost touch her suffering for himself, and knew the terror she must have felt at knowing she was about to die.
There was something raw and primal that simmered inside him. His hands clenched in fists at his sides. He’d never been a violent man, but now, he wanted to get his hands on the person who’d brought such devastation to his family.
After washing her face, Tessa had joined the others and felt a little better. But she took one look at Jackson’s face and realized there was something wrong. The note had hit him hard. He seemed to be in his own world. She crouched in front of him, talking to him softly, reassuring him that everything would be okay. He seemed so troubled that she did her best to get through to him by touching his face, squeezing his leg, until he came back to himself.
[Indigo Brothers 01.0] Indigo Fire Page 30
