Appalachian Prey

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Appalachian Prey Page 2

by Debbie Herbert

The accusation in her eyes stung, but not as much as the truth of her words. Yes, he was ambitious. But it wasn’t the money and the power he craved—it was the chance to make a difference. This little corner in the Appalachian foothills had always garnered more than its share of hardship and tumult. And somehow, the situation kept going downhill. Elmore County was rife with drug trafficking, ancient feuds and an isolation that led many to a life of crime, believing the laws didn’t apply in this neck of the woods.

  “I won’t deny any of that,” he said slowly. “J.D. had a long talk with me. Basically said that if I continued seeing you, he wouldn’t endorse me as his replacement.”

  “And your career means more to you than I do. Fine. But you could have talked to me instead of giving me the silent treatment.”

  “You’re right. And I regret that.”

  Harlan regretted a lot of things. He should never have listened to J.D. or anyone else. He should have defended Lilah. He should have never let her slip away.

  He was an ass.

  Harlan shook his head. No, he’d done the right thing. The people in this county needed him. No point in throwing his career away because of one magical week. But that one week together during her spring break from work and school had been an unbelievable whirlwind of passion and emotion. And then, he’d slipped out of her life without a single word, even after all the plans they’d made for the summer. He raised a hand to touch her, to cup her face in his palms, to tell her he was sorry.

  Lilah stepped back, lips curled in a bitter smile. “Don’t even think about it, Harlan Sampson. We’re done.”

  Abruptly, he dropped the hand by his side. He’d lost the right to touch Lilah ever again.

  “Message received.” He took a deep breath and straightened his spine. “But I still don’t like leaving you alone out here. Can’t you get a room in town until you’ve finished your business?”

  “No.”

  She turned and headed down the hallway, leaving him no choice but to follow. Lilah opened the front door wide and waved a hand in dismissal. “Goodbye, Harlan.”

  He nodded, but as he brushed past Lilah, he couldn’t resist placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry for everything. And for your loss. Your dad might have been on the other side of the law, but he was a decent man. I liked him, and he didn’t deserve what happened. I’ll do everything I can to find who shot him.”

  The anger and hostility fled, and her lips trembled the slightest bit. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  She shook her head.

  “If you think of something, you have my number.”

  Before she could object, he planted a light kiss on her cheek and stepped out onto the porch. The sun was sinking low in the green mountains, casting a coral and purple hue on the clouds. Damn, he hated leaving her with night approaching.

  “Wait. There is one thing you can do.”

  He swung around, eager to help. “Name it.”

  Lilah lingered in the doorway, rubbing her arm. “I—I found some money today while I was cleaning up the place. In light of what happened to Dad, well, it makes me nervous. It’s too late for me to go to the bank, but maybe you could keep it safe for me tonight? I’ll come pick it up in the morning and deposit it.”

  “No problem.”

  He returned to the inside of her cabin. How crafty of Chauncey to keep a hidden stash of dough. He hoped for Lilah’s sake that it was at least a thousand dollars or so. She could use the cash. Working as a teacher’s aide and going to college didn’t leave her much in the way of money.

  “I told Darla ’bout finding a wad of cash up under the mattress, and she wanted us to go on and split it, but I told her it didn’t sit right with me. That much money should be reported.”

  He gave an indulgent smile. “No one would be the wiser if you didn’t turn it in. There’s no need to worry. I agree with Darla, just keep the money.”

  “But it’s a lot of money. I’ll need to talk to the bank manager. Don’t they investigate if you deposit more than ten thousand dollars at a time?”

  The hell. “Excuse me? How much money are we talking about?”

  “About thirty thousand.”

  Thirty. Thousand. Dollars. Ill-gotten dollars, no doubt. The rumors must be true. Chauncey, and probably his partner-in-crime brother as well, had graduated from moonshine to marijuana—or even harder drugs.

  “Get it,” he said tightly. Small wonder the Tedder reputation stank.

  And she’d planned on sleeping on that load of cash tonight? Some folks ’round these parts would kill for thirty grand. Even if Lilah knew how to use that shotgun, she’d have been putting herself in jeopardy staying here overnight with that much money. If anyone else knew about it, she could have ended up with bullets riddling her body—the same fate as her father.

  She scampered away, seemingly eager to be rid of the cash. Hard to believe, but at some level, Lilah must still trust him. Damn, he would have to tell J.D. about this. No way he could just let her waltz into a bank and get flagged as a possible drug dealer.

  He sat on the sofa and ran a hand through his hair. “What the hell did you get mixed up in, Chauncey?” he muttered under his breath. He kicked back on the cushions and sighed.

  Sure was taking her a long time. Harlan drummed his fingers on the wooden arm of the old couch, waiting.

  And waiting.

  “Everything all right, Lilah?” he called out.

  She staggered back into the den, face pale and fiddling with the gold cross chain around her neck.

  He stood, dread prickling his scalp. “What’s wrong?”

  She drew an unsteady breath. “The money...it’s gone.”

  Chapter Two

  Gone.

  Harlan rubbed his temples and sat back down on the sofa. He pointed to the rocker, and Lilah settled across from him. How to tell her?

  “Was your dad in the habit of keeping large amounts of money around the cabin?” he finally asked.

  “No.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “At least, not that I’m aware of.”

  “Any idea how he might have come into this money?”

  Her lips pinched together. “No.”

  “Moonshining can be pretty profitable for a few folks.”

  The muscles in her jaw worked, and she lifted a hand and waved it in the air. “Not for us. Does this look like a mansion or something? If Dad made much money at it, he sure didn’t believe in spreading the wealth.”

  Harlan knew her financial struggle. She’d been working for six years as a teacher’s aide, paying for college tuition and books as she could on her salary.

  “Sure, he wasn’t known for having an extravagant lifestyle,” Harlan agreed. “But you told me yourself that he acted different when you visited in March.”

  “Lots of shady characters hanging around. A younger crowd, people I’d never seen before.” She sighed and stared down at her hands. “Lots of long talks with Uncle Thad, too. Whenever I entered the room, they would stop talking. But that wasn’t so unusual. In the past, they would come up with some pretty harebrained get-rich schemes that never worked. Part of the reason Mom cut out years ago.”

  Lilah lifted her head and faced him dead on. “But you already know most of this. I confided a lot to you when—” she hesitated a heartbeat “—when we were seeing each other.”

  Seeing each other. Images of her flashed through his mind—Lilah lying on his bed, her hair spread against the sheets, the play of moonlight on her skin, the feel of her hand gliding down his abs and lower still... Best not to dwell on that. He cleared his throat.

  “Can’t help wondering if your dad might have changed his, er, business model. He wouldn’t be the first to switch from moonshine to marijuana. That’s where the real money is these days.”

 
Gray eyes flashed. “You asking if Dad was a dope dealer? No way.”

  There was no kind way to have her face the possibility. Might as well be honest. “There’s been rumors. We know for a fact that there’s a huge drug-running operation that passes through our mountains. We just haven’t been able to make a major bust yet.”

  “Rumors?” She stood and paced, temper sparking in her clipped movements. “Figures. Anything criminal happening in Elmore County and people are going to bring up Dad’s name. It’s so unfair. He never hurt anybody. And he never sold liquor to the teenagers that came around. Said moonshine was a grown man’s drink.”

  Harlan bit the inside of his mouth to keep from blurting his thoughts. He’d liked Chauncey, but Lilah had either forgotten her dad’s more violent tendencies or she’d shoved them to the back of her mind. She hadn’t been especially close to her dad, but his death was so recent, so fresh in her heart, and Chauncey was her father, after all.

  “I’m not judging him,” Harlan said, treading lightly. “He had plenty of good qualities—a loyal friend, always minded his own business and generous to a fault. But he had a dark side, too. Chauncey spent many a night as a guest of the Elmore County jail for assault.”

  She shrugged. “Drunken bar fights.”

  Fierce fights that had resulted in serious injuries to the unlucky, foolhardy men who crossed him. But he let that pass without comment. “You’ve never seen anything else suspicious?”

  “I know what pot plants look like. If I’d seen any on our property, I’d have reported it. Take a look around for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

  “Your father didn’t have to be growing it in his fields to participate. He could have managed an indoor operation.”

  “I don’t know anything about that.” Lilah crossed her arms.

  If she had a fault, it was stubbornness. She’d come by it honestly as Chauncey Tedder’s daughter. That man refused to live life on anyone else’s terms and abided by his own creed of what constituted right and wrong—the law be damned. Truth be told, many mountain folk felt the same.

  “If you find anything incriminating while you’re staying here, I hope you’ll tell me.”

  “Outlaws keeping a step ahead of the law up here?” she quipped. “Imagine that.”

  Were they ever. Every drug raid ended the same—a dead end with no evidence or suspects in sight. “This is serious, Lilah. Drug operations bring in a dangerous criminal element. They aren’t like your dad.”

  She sobered. “Which is why Dad would never have been a part of that. Never.”

  He raised his hands, palms out. “Okay, okay. I just can’t help worrying about you staying out here alone.”

  “I won’t be here long. There’s no reason to stay now that...you know.” She let her words trail off.

  Now that their relationship was over.

  Again, it hung heavy in the air between them, weighing on his shoulders like a thick blanket. “When?”

  “Soon,” she answered dismissively.

  He’d lost the right to question her more closely about her comings and goings. None of his business.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Sorry for—”

  “Forget it.” She thrust out her chin. “I have.”

  Had she? Had Lilah really moved on? Because he sure as hell hadn’t. “Why don’t you stay with Darla while you’re here? The next guy coming along to buy ’shine might not be as nice as the one that just skedaddled off your property.”

  He caught the slight tightness at the edge of her eyes. “She’s busy with Ed and her kids. We’d get on each other’s nerves after a while, anyway.”

  “Too bad Jimmy couldn’t have stayed longer.”

  “Yeah. He looked so sad when he had to fly back,” she said wistfully.

  His old friend, her brother, was no longer the free-spirited kid that he used to hang around with in high school—and occasionally get in trouble with. Jimmy’s tour in Afghanistan had changed his carefree attitude. At the funeral, and even afterward, he’d been distant and grave. Shell-shocked, some might say.

  The loud rumble of a diesel engine roared from the driveway, and Harlan stepped out onto the porch in time to see a large gruff man at the wheel. He sharply turned the truck, and it circled the yard before heading back down the road.

  “Your cruiser is running off my dad’s business,” Lilah said drily.

  He rubbed his chin. “Wish I could leave it here overnight.”

  “I’ll be fine. Just go.” With that, she turned away.

  He’d been dismissed, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. “At least for tonight, call your sister and see if she’ll stay out here with you.” At the cold snap of her gray eyes, he added, “Please.”

  “Maybe.”

  The old oak door shut firmly behind her. Stubborn woman.

  * * *

  A LEATHER CORDED bracelet with a crimson stone, a triple-stranded necklace of multicolored glass and a tarnished silver ring with a fake cameo carving. Lilah laid the jewelry on the kitchen table and examined the pieces. They obviously held little, if any, monetary value, but they’d been carefully wrapped in an embroidered linen handkerchief inside a red silk drawstring pouch. So they’d meant something to somebody at one time.

  Curious, she’d called Mom, who’d snorted when asked if they’d once belonged to her. “Anything I wanted from that cabin, which wasn’t much, I took with me when I left your dad.” She also claimed never to have seen the jewelry. “Might have belonged to Chauncey’s mama, but if it did, I never noticed he had them, and he never mentioned it to me. Your dad wasn’t exactly the sentimental type, anyway.”

  Still, Lilah was reluctant to chuck the pieces in the charity box with everything else worth salvaging. If the jewelry had belonged to Granny Tedder, she wanted to keep it.

  At the crunch of gravel outside, she peered out the front window. Good, just Darla and Uncle Thad come to call. She opened the screen door and waved them inside. Uncle Thad hefted Darla’s overnight bag from the truck bed as her sister minced her way to the porch in high heels. Lilah suppressed a giggle. Even as a kid, Darla was into playing dress up and acting like a Hollywood ingenue instead of a hillbilly’s daughter.

  “Thanks for coming over, y’all. Harlan was over earlier and got me all paranoid about staying alone out here.”

  “Harlan, huh? He’s sexy.” Darla winked as she entered, leaving a trail of perfume in her wake.

  Lilah ignored the comment.

  “Got yer shotgun, don’t ya?” Uncle Thad bellowed. “Yer safe enough.” He huffed and puffed up the porch steps. He was a giant of a man, over six feet tall, and as strong and as broad-boned as an ox.

  He always knew just what to say to make her feel better. She hugged him as he entered the cabin.

  Darla walked to the kitchen table, hips swaying. When she pulled out a chair and sat, she crossed her legs, exposing a long stretch of thigh. “You’ve been working hard. I’ve never seen Dad’s place look so tidy. At least not since Mama ran off.” She tossed her hair and sighed. “Be a love and make me a cup of coffee. Those kids ’bout ran me ragged today.”

  Lilah exchanged a quick knowing glance with Uncle Thad, who was dragging the suitcase to the back bedroom. Somehow, everything always centered on Darla and her needs. Feeling guilty, Lilah set about fixing the coffee. After all, her sister was busy with her own home life and didn’t have to come babysit a grown fraidy-cat woman.

  “What do we have here?” Darla cooed, picking up the multicolored necklace and holding it to the light.

  “Found them under Dad’s mattress. Any idea who they belong to?”

  “No, but it’s mine now.” Darla clasped the necklace around her neck and preened. “How does it look?”

  Gaudy, actually. Lilah measured the coffee and started the machine. “Mmm,” she said no
ncommittally.

  Uncle Thad waved from the den. “Gotta hit the road. Momma’s waiting dinner on me.”

  “Tell Aunt Vi I said hey,” Lilah called from the kitchen.

  Darla put on the bracelet and ring. “Not too shabby, I guess. Whatcha think, Uncle?”

  He stopped and stared. “Where’d ya get those baubles?”

  “Lilah found them. Do they look pretty on me?”

  “Sure, sure. Not that you need adornment.” He winked at Lilah. Uncle Thad knew how to flatter his niece.

  “You want to keep one, Lilah?” Darla asked.

  “Nah, that’s okay. They should go to someone who appreciates them.”

  Uncle Thad left, and Lilah warmed up a large pot of chicken and dumplings and another pot of butter beans. She was suddenly ravenous and exhausted as the aroma kicked in, and she absently stirred the dumplings, thinking of all the things she’d have loved to discuss with Darla. Hidden matters of the heart. But there was a layer of reserve between them. It seemed sometimes as if Darla resented her. Lilah had left Lavender Mountain years ago, finished her high school degree, and would soon graduate college with her teacher’s certificate, whereas Darla had never left, never finished her schooling and had pretty much been forced into marriage when she’d gotten pregnant at sixteen.

  Lilah set their plates on the table and sat across from her. “I know the kids keep you busy, but aren’t they fun, too? I mean, you like being a mother, don’t you?”

  Darla shrugged. “It has its moments, I suppose. But it’s lots of work. More than I realized it would be.”

  “But satisfying, right?”

  “Sure,” she said carelessly, lifting her little finger as she sipped her coffee.

  Well, that hadn’t been particularly enlightening or encouraging. What had she expected? Lilah ate, savoring the homemade food. As soon as her stomach was sated, lethargy crept in like a drug. She blinked, surveying the dirty dishes with dread. All she wanted was to crawl into bed and snuggle under the covers.

  “Hey, kid.” Darla’s hand closed over hers. “You look beat. I’ll wash the dishes.”

 

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