Killing
Justice
fractured mind series
book 2
Kate Allenton
Copyright © 2019 Kate Allenton
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or use fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Published by Coastal Escape Publishing
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 1
“Which one of you dumped dad’s body in the lake?” Carson asked, his somber tone devoid of emotion as he stared at his father’s ghostly apparition.
Carson Tines and his two brothers stared slack-jawed, watching the horrific nightmare unfolding. Red and blue flashing lights bounced off the overhanging canopy of evergreen trees across the water. The gasoline smell from the Sheriff’s Department boats and machinery drifted on the wind. Leashed barking dogs tugged their handlers toward the boat and bodies being lifted out of the water. The motion sent waves lapping against the shoreline.
For years people had gone missing from Carson’s hometown. They weren’t missing anymore. Lake Raymont wasn’t a tourist town. It was located in the backwoods of Alabama. The only people who visited this place were locals who left and came home to visit their folks, and people who got lost on the highway.
“None of us put him in the lake,” Michael answered. “We don’t even know if any of those bodies are him.”
His older brother’s drunk optimism wasn’t reassuring. As sure as Carson knew the sun would rise in the east, he knew the identity of at least one of the dead bodies the cops were fishing to retrieve.
Carson could feel it in his soul. They’d find five bodies beneath the murky water.
Bodies wrapped in blue tarps were being hauled out one by one. He and his brothers had known they’d eventually figure out their father’s fate. They all knew their dad was near. How near, well, one of them must have known more than the other.
“I need a drink,” his younger brother, Bishop, announced as he spun and stalked away.
They all did. A shot of whiskey, their father’s favorite drink, to commemorate the day.
Michael and Bishop headed through the woods. Carson was slower to follow. Every time he returned home; he was ready to leave again. The painful memories consumed his thoughts, but being around his brothers made them worse.
Carson barely remembered when his parents moved them all to the United States from Ireland. All he remembered was the country locals making fun of his family’s Irish accent. Now he sported an Irish accent with a southern drawl. His parents had thought this place would give them a fresh start. They’d been wrong.
“Janet is working behind the bar. Is that going to be an issue?” Michael asked.
Carson cursed. “My visit is temporary, but I’ll be lucky if the lass doesn’t spike my drink.”
The bar was practically in their backyard, connected to their home by a well-worn path their father had carved through the woods. As teens, Carson and his brothers had to retrieve their dad when he’d attempted to stumble home and inevitably passed out on the way. He excelled at drinking away his worries; that was the only life lesson he’d bestowed on his sons.
Carson stepped into the bar; his gaze went to the familiar clock on the wall in the shape of a cowgirl holding on to her hat. At the top of every hour, her leg would swing out, and the neon lights around her frame grew bright. Even that clock was worn with age. Scarred wooden stools lined the counter. One of the locals was hunched over at the end of the bar, nursing his frosty mug.
“Want to sit at the bar?” Bishop asked.
Carson shook his head. “No.” He pointed to the table across the bar. “Over there, where we can talk.”
Michael nudged him. “Grab the table, and I’ll get the beers.”
Carson crossed the room and spun the beat-up wooden chair around before straddling it. His gaze locked on Janet behind the bar, making sure she didn’t poison his drink with arsenic.
She hadn’t changed. Her red hair fell in waves down to her shoulders. Her bright green eyes had lost some of their light. Working in this place wore on a person. She was still beautiful, still sexy, and, judging by the tension in her jaw, still very stubborn.
As if she sensed Carson’s thoughts, she lifted her gaze to meet his and narrowed those sexy, heated eyes. Carson tilted his head in acknowledgment, earning a deeper scowl.
“Do you think she’s still pissed?” Bishop asked.
“Looks that way,” Carson answered, taking a shot of whiskey and a bottle of beer from Michael before his brother scampered off to grab the rest of the drinks and join them.
Carson took a long swig of the cold beer before leaning into the table. This was a conversation they should have had years ago. Only then he hadn’t been prepared to know the truth. Now it was a necessity. “Listen, they’ll think one of us killed him. They always look at family first. There’s no denying we hated the bastard.” Most of the time. “So, if one of you killed him, you need to tell me now so I can work out a plan to protect you.”
“We don’t even know if one of them was him,” Bishop said, taking a sip of his beer.
Carson lifted a brow at Bishop’s comment. His brothers might not know, but Carson did.
“Still, if it is him, we need a plan.”
“Why are you so convinced they’ll find Dad?” Michael asked. “Unless you know for a fact, he’s in the lake.”
Bishop leaned forward. His intense gaze landed on Carson like their father’s had when dear old dad learned he’d been the one who flushed his alcohol down the toilet. “Did you kill him?”
The bar door flew open, and the sheriff walked in with two of his deputies. Behind him was Marine Recruiter, Master Sergeant Farley. He’d been the man who straightened Carson out all those years ago and sent him down a more rewarding path.
The sheriff scanned the room. His gaze held Carson’s as he crossed the distance. “I heard you were back,” Sheriff Anderson announced.
There was no love lost between the sheriff and Carson. Carson had been a known troublemaker growing up.
“Sheriff.” Carson nodded. “I’m not here to start any trouble, just visiting my brothers.”
“Give the kid a break, Sheriff. The Marines instilled a sense of duty in Carson a long time ago. He’s no longer the punk you remember,” Master Sergeant Farley announced. “Isn’t that right, son?”
“Sir, yes sir.” Carson rose from his seat and nodded.
Sheriff Anderson glanced over his shoulder at his daughter, Janet, before turning back around. “See that you keep your nose clean, Tines. I’d hate to throw you in jail.”
The sheriff claimed that was where Carson would end up all along. He’d been wrong.
Carson retook his seat and grabbed his beer.
“I’m surprised you’d have time to worry about us seeing that your guys are dragging several bodies out of the lake,” Bishop said, a little louder than necessary.
The patrons sitting nearby turned in their direction. One said, “Is that true, Sheriff?”
The diversion worked like a charm. Carson clinked his beer against Bishop’s and grinned.
Sheriff Anderson gave Bishop a stinky side-eye before addressing the customers at the table. Carson’s daddy and the sheriff had never seen eye-to-eye. Not since Carson’s mom had died. Everyone in town blamed Carson’s daddy for the deed. Hell, even his children had. Their dad had waited forty-eight hours before calling her in as missing. He’d been the last one with her before the cops had found her broken body on the side of the road the next day, and he hadn’t had an alibi.
The questions paused when the door opened again, letting more sunlight into the dingy bar. The bar hadn’t been this busy the last time Carson had visited.
As the door swung shut, a familiar face came into focus.
“Crap,” Carson whispered beneath his breath. As if his day couldn’t get any worse, it had doubled in a matter of seconds. Lucy Bray investigating the dead bodies would bring results, and no matter if either brother was guilty, she’d figure it out. They were royally screwed. Carson rose from his seat. “Lucy, what are you doing here, and how did you escape?”
Lucy smiled in his direction. “You know, you didn’t have to kill anyone to see me again. All you had to do was ask.”
Bishop’s and Michael’s mouths parted as they stared at Lucy. Her loose-fitting jeans hung on her hips. Her V-cut cotton tee revealed enough cleavage to tease a man, make him want...no, need to see more. She was the girl next door and most men’s wet dream.
Janet tilted her head and rested her hand on her hip.
“I never would have guessed you came from a small town, Carson. I thought you were conceived in a military experiment.”
Michael laughed, and Carson knocked him in the gut before rubbing the stress knot forming in his neck.
“Now, lass. How did you escape?” Carson asked as Lucy stepped farther into the bar with her handler, FBI Agent Noah Roth, and Sam Zachman, the IT guy, behind her.
“Did you say escape?” the sheriff asked.
“Escaping was the easy part,” she said, glancing around the room. “We’re connected, Carson, or have you forgotten?” She placed her hand over her heart and winked.
The entire bar was quiet as they watched Lucy walk over to the table, pick up Carson’s beer, and take a sip. “And from the looks of it, you could use our help.”
Lucy stepped up to the sheriff and held out her hand. “Dr. Lucy Bray, Sheriff. The FBI and I look forward to working with you.”
“Escaped from where?” he asked.
“Glendale psych ward.” She patted his badge. “But don’t worry. I’ll grow on you.”
“I doubt that,” Sheriff Anderson answered.
“Can I just be the first to say that Carson didn’t kill anyone. He’s a big teddy bear.”
“How did you even know we pulled dead bodies out of the lake? We’re still collecting evidence.” The sheriff’s brows dipped.
“Yeah, well, then…” Lucy wrinkled her nose. “Carry on.” Lucy waved her hand around the bar. “Which one of you sexy guys is going to buy me a glass of wine?”
“You’re on the clock, Dr. Bray,” Noah said, earning Lucy’s frown.
Lucy loved her time away from the psych ward. She tended to push everyone’s buttons and often. It was as if she could feel and taste the freedom that had been yanked away.
She sighed as she turned to meet his gaze. “I have no victim, no blood, nothing yet to play with, Noah.”
“Agent Roth,” he corrected.
“Noah, I think one glass of wine wouldn’t hurt. Someone might even suggest it will help loosen me up for playtime.”
“No one would say that, only you,” Noah answered.
“Fine, I would say that,” she said, turning back to the guys in the bar. She surveyed each as if determining which one might be a threat and which might be the easiest guy to talk into buying her that drink.
“You haven’t answered how the hell you know we pulled bodies out of the lake,” the sheriff growled.
Lucy gestured to Noah. “That’s above my pay grade. Oh, wait…” Her hand flew to her chest. “They aren’t paying me a dime, so be a dear and talk to Sparky over there.”
“Why does she need blood and bodies?” Bishop whispered into Carson’s ear.
“She’s a genetically enhanced hunter. She stalks her prey.”
Carson
Chapter 2
Carson took Lucy by the arm and escorted her out of the bar while Noah talked with the sheriff. The rays from the afternoon sun blinded him. The last thing he needed was for her to stick her nose into this case. If she fingered one of his brothers for the crime, he might kill Lucy himself.
Carson’s dad wasn’t always mean. He’d just lost his way in the bottom of a bottle to deal with his grief. The liquor changed him. The kind, gentle man who had taught him to fish in his younger days had him and his brothers walking on egg shells the rest of their lives. Until he’d disappeared.
“How did you know?” he asked, just out of earshot from other patrons entering.
“We’re connected,” she answered as if that was enough detail.
It wasn’t.
“How do we disconnect?” he asked.
Her mouth parted, and she rested both palms on his shoulders. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask that. We’re like family, Carson. You give us toys to play with, and we use those toys to watch your back.”
“We’re not family,” he answered. “My brothers inside are my blood. You’re a colleague at most.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Is there a reason you don’t want me to look into these deaths? Because, if you killed them, I hope they deserved it, and I can be your alibi.”
Carson shook the confusion from his head. “I’ve never killed anyone in this town.”
“There’s a first time for everything.” She grinned up at me. “So how about that wine?”
“Noah told you no wine.” Carson shoved his hands into his pockets. “Besides, I’m not sure that bar is the best place to get a drink if you don’t want to die.”
Lucy glanced over her shoulder back toward the bar. “I thought I felt a bit of hostility mixing with desire.” Her eyes widened. “It’s the bartender, isn’t it?”
Lucy had turned to head back inside when Carson caught her arm and steered her to the SUV in the parking lot. It was the only vehicle that looked out of place compared with the beat-up trucks and cars.
“This is my private life, Lucy. Respect that, and stay away from the bartender. Janet’s my ex and happens to be the sheriff’s daughter. Do. Not. Piss. Her. Off.”
“Who me?” Lucy chuckled and headed back to the bar. Carson fell into step beside her. “So, who broke things off, you or her?”
“It was mutual,” he answered.
Lucy paused with her hand on the door. “I think it’s safe to say she’s over you.”
; “And why is that?” he asked.
“Because that lust she has isn’t directed at you. It’s directed at your brother.”
Carson placed his palm on her arm, stopping her. “Which one?”
Lucy’s mouth parted. “You didn’t know?”
“Which one, Dr. Bray?”
“The tall one with the plaid shirt,” she answered.
Carson spun Lucy out of the way and entered the bar, stomping up to his brother Michael. He clenched his fist and swung before Michael even knew what was coming. “How long have you been sleeping with her?”
His pulse sped up as heat flashed through his body. One hit wasn’t going to be enough. His body stiffened as he battled between disbelief, hurt, and rage. His own brother had broken their code. Ex-girlfriends were off-limits. No exceptions.
Michael grabbed Carson around the waist, lifted him up in the air, and fists started flying.
Noah pulled Carson away, restraining him as Bishop blocked Michael.
“Take it outside, boys,” the sheriff demanded.
Janet’s eyes widened as she grabbed a rag and went to Michael’s side, dabbing at the blood dripping from his lip.
“I thought you guys weren’t going to say anything,” Bishop said.
“You knew?” Carson glared at his other brother, his nostrils flaring. He shoved open the door, storming outside. Anger and betrayal stirred in his blood, kicking up his heart rate like a shot of adrenaline.
Lucy appeared by his side. “I know what you’re feeling.”
“Get out of my head, Lucy. You won’t like what you find,” he growled.
“I’m not in your head, Carson. We haven’t exchanged blood. We’re connected because I chose to be. You’re my friend, you proved that in Florida, and I’ll always be concerned for you.” She shrugged. “Besides, it’s your emotions that tell me everything I need to know.”
Carson stopped walking and turned to face her. “We aren’t friends. You live in a psych ward for the criminally insane. You’re a part of the unit I’m assigned to, nothing more.”
Killing Justice (Fractured Minds Series Book 2) Page 1
