Conard County--Traces of Murder

by Rachel Lee

  The enormous success of his company was bittersweet since it owed its existence to his older brother’s death. Mason had been the chief of police in his hometown of Beauchamp, Louisiana, when Landon was framed and convicted with blinding speed, then killed in prison while Mason was scrambling to exonerate him. It was his subsequent civil suit against the corrupt town leaders who’d been instrumental in his brother’s sham of a conviction that had given him the millions to start his company. But he’d give up all his wealth, without hesitation, if it would bring Landon back.

  Since that wasn’t possible, he’d done the only thing he could to honor his memory. He’d secretly continued the investigation on his own, trying to figure out the identity of that one last person behind the conspiracy that had resulted in his brother’s conviction and murder. But justice was proving to be frustratingly elusive. Which was why he’d soon head home for his annual appointment with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s to grieve for his brother in private and curse his own failure to solve the riddle of Landon’s death.

  A burst of laughter sounded from the far end of the wagon. Former FBI profiler, Bryson Anton, was laughing at something his fiancée, Teagan, had said. Beside them, former secret service agent, Gage Bishop—Mason’s closest friend and the very first Seeker he’d ever hired—grinned at his girlfriend, Harper. It was truly amazing to see Bishop looking so happy these days. Harper was exactly what the normally morose Bishop needed, a balm to his battered soul. It was a balm to Mason’s as well, seeing how much his team seemed to be enjoying the outing.

  Except, perhaps, the newest member of The Justice Seekers.

  Eli Dupree sat by himself a couple of hay bales away from Mason, splitting his time between watching the scenery and surreptitiously glancing at the other Seekers. He was relatively new to Gatlinburg, having arrived only a few months ago. A former police officer and Louisianan, like Mason, Eli had been the victim of a crooked conspiracy in Baton Rouge. But unlike Mason, he hadn’t been able to turn his misfortune into something good and had struggled to make ends meet.

  Mason considered himself fortunate that Eli had looked him up and asked for a job. The timing was perfect, since Mason had been searching for a suitable replacement for their fallen Seeker, Seth Knox. And Mason was thrilled to help someone from his home state. He just hoped Eli would learn to appreciate Tennessee the way Mason did, and that he’d eventually fit in with the rest of the team.

  When the wagon slowed and made the final turn off Highway 321 into the Family Dollar store’s parking lot, where they’d all parked their personal vehicles earlier, Eli motioned toward Mason’s black BMW. “Looks like someone’s waiting for you.”

  A familiar red convertible was parked in the spot beside his with an even more familiar-looking platinum blonde standing between the two cars. Mason let out a deep sigh. Why had she chosen today, of all days, to show up again? It had been a couple of years since the last time she’d made the long trip here in her ongoing campaign to win him back. Plus, he’d heard she’d gotten engaged again. Apparently it had been too optimistic on his part to assume that would mean she’d finally stop what could only be called harassment.

  A shadow fell across him. He looked up to see Bishop in full former secret service agent mode, dark sunglasses in place, pistol bulging beneath his light jacket, a deadly serious look on his face. “I can take care of this. Just say the word.”

  Dalton Lynch, a former policeman from Montana, stepped beside him, straightening the black Stetson he was never without. “Need me to block Guinevere’s car while you make your getaway?”

  Bishop gave Dalton a warning look over the top of his shades. “I’ve got this, cowboy.”

  Dalton bumped his shoulder against Bishop.

  Bishop held his ground and returned the gesture, his frown growing fierce.

  Dalton grinned, not at all intimidated.

  A few feet away, Eli glanced back and forth between them. “Guinevere?”

  Mason narrowed his eyes at Dalton, before answering. “Her name is Audrey Broussard. Years ago, many years ago, we were engaged.”

  “Lancelot must have frozen her credit cards,” Dalton said. “No offense to your charms, boss, but I can give you several million reasons why she wants to be on your arm again.”

  Eli’s look of curiosity turned to confusion. “Lancelot? Wait, didn’t he sleep with Guinevere behind King Arthur’s back?”

  Dalton had the grace to wince before his expression sobered. “Let Bishop and me take care of this, boss. You don’t even have to talk to her.”

  Mason’s throat tightened when he realized the rest of his team had silently moved to stand behind Dalton and Bishop, letting him know they were there to support him, as well. Except for Bishop, none of the Seekers knew the details about what had happened in his hometown years ago. But all of them were making it clear whose side they were on.

  He had to clear his throat, twice, before trusting his voice enough to speak. “I couldn’t ask for a better team. You’re always there for me and each other. But this...this is something I have to take care of myself.”

  They stepped back so he could make his way down the center aisle through the hay bales and dismount from the wagon. But before heading to his impatient-looking former fiancée, he turned around to address his employees. No, his family. His chosen family, rather than the one he was born into. He cherished every single one of them.

  “I hope you all had a great time. Enjoy the Fall Festival in town today and Sunday. As a bonus, take Monday off, with pay. The last thing I need is a bunch of hungover gun-toting yahoos dragging into the office after partying hard all weekend.”

  Their cheers gave him the strength he needed to face whatever Audrey was about to dish out. When he reached his car, he nodded in greeting and leaned against his driver’s door. “Audrey.”

  She mimicked his pose, leaning against the passenger side of her sports car. “Mason. Still wearing business suits everywhere, I see. Even on a hayride.” Her red lips curved in a practiced smile.

  “Image is everything.” He returned her smile, taking in her stilettos and silky black dress that couldn’t come close to keeping her warm. The early morning temp this time of year, this high up in the mountains, was probably hovering around fifty degrees, if that. He’d offer her his suit jacket, but he could see a fur coat draped over the passenger seat through the window behind her. She’d obviously chosen to go for looks, instead of warmth. And she did look good, always had. Even in grade school she’d been the prettiest girl on the playground.

  “You’re as beautiful as ever.” On closer inspection, though, there were dark circles under her eyes that her makeup failed to completely conceal. And she seemed tired, pale. Even her hair seemed to lack the luster it usually had. Since he’d never seen her looking anything less than perfect, he couldn’t help wondering if something was wrong. “Is everything all right? Do you feel okay?”

  Her cornflower blue eyes widened and she self-consciously patted her hair. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

  She was probably just tired after the twelve-plus-hour drive from Beauchamp to Gatlinburg. Maybe she’d driven through the night to get here and hadn’t stopped at a hotel yet to rest. “No reason. Just small talk.” He shifted against the car and crossed his arms. “I heard you and Thibodeaux got engaged. Congratulations.”

  “If that’s what your baby sister told you in those gossip sessions over the phone, then she’s either out of touch with the local grapevine or just being mean. Richard and I broke up a few months ago.” She tilted her chin defiantly.

  “Olivia doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. But it’s been a while since our last phone call, so I didn’t realize your status had changed. I’m sorry that things didn’t work out between you and Richard.”

  And he was. Even though Audrey had destroyed the friendship between Mason and Richard Thibodeaux, Mason sympathized with her ove
r losing him. It had taken her years to get him to give her a ring. With him gone, there weren’t many more prospects left in the small town of Beauchamp, since her main preferred qualification in a relationship was money, or at least the prospect of decent future earnings.

  She shrugged, pretending it didn’t matter. “He moved to Texas. The man I left you for has now left me. That probably makes you happy, doesn’t it? Poetic justice?”

  “No, it doesn’t. You deserve to find that special someone just as much as anyone else. I assumed that person was Richard. I’m sorry that it wasn’t.”

  She stared at him a long moment, before blinking back the suspicious moisture in her eyes. “He was always my second choice.”

  “Audrey, don’t.”

  “I mean it, Mason. You and I were good together. Really good. Give me another chance. Give us another chance. Forgive my one little mistake.”

  “Sleeping with my best friend, then throwing your engagement ring in my face in the middle of the town square isn’t what I call one little mistake.”

  “It was only the one time. I turned to Richard for comfort. I was upset at you for filing that silly lawsuit. You sued half my friends. No one would talk to me anymore.”

  “I may have been a lovesick fool back then, but I wasn’t blind. We both know it was more than once, with more than one guy.”

  Her face turned a bright pink.

  “As to the silly lawsuit,” he continued, “it was the only way I could obtain any kind of justice for Landon’s death. Those so-called friends of yours helped conceal and falsify evidence. If it wasn’t for them, my brother wouldn’t have been convicted, sent to prison and slaughtered before I could prove his innocence. The infidelity I could forgive. You supporting the people responsible for my brother’s murder? That, I can never forgive.”

  Her eyes flashed with anger. “It’s so easy for you to judge me. Saint Mason can do no wrong, always better than anyone else. Maybe someone should judge you for a change, make you pay for what you’ve done to others.”

  Her lightning-quick mood swing surprised him, but no more than what she’d said. Other than bringing criminals to justice, he’d always tried to treat others with respect, especially Audrey. No matter what had happened between them, he’d loved her once, had planned to spend the rest of his life with her. Part of him would always care about her. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. What do you think I’ve done?”

  She opened her mouth as if to say something, then seemed to think better of it. When she regained control, she drew a steadying breath. “Obviously, coming here was a mistake. I shouldn’t have wasted my time thinking you’d soften toward me. You probably never loved me in the first place.”

  He’d loved her too much. That was his downfall. His mind had known the relationship was doomed long before his heart would accept the painful truth.

  “Why are you really here? Especially today.”

  She arched a brow. “What’s special about today?”

  Her tone told him what she refused to admit. She knew the significance of the date and must have chosen it hoping he’d be more vulnerable, maybe more amenable to whatever it was that she wanted. “Did you come here for money? Have you burned through what I gave you after I won the civil suit?”

  Her face pinkened again. “It’s been seven years since the lawsuit. If I had spent it all in that long a time, I’d hardly qualify it as burning through the money.”

  Since he’d given her close to a million dollars, he wasn’t sure that he agreed. “How much do you need?”

  She stared at him incredulously. “Are you seriously offering to pay me off?”

  “It’s not a payoff. It’s an offer to help. If you’re in financial trouble, I’m happy to give you some money. As a friend, nothing more. But after this, I’m done. It’s not fair to either of us for you to keep coming up here. You should go home and never come back.”

  “Never come back.” She gave him a tight smile. “Careful what you wish for.”

  He frowned. “What’s going on in Beauchamp? Is someone bothering you? Do you need help?”

  She clutched her keys in her hand and rounded her car to the driver’s side. “If you think I’m here to hire The Justice Seekers, you’ve lost your mind. Your little company’s a joke back home.”

  “A joke, huh?”

  She gave him a mutinous glare.

  He considered telling her his little company grossed over ten million dollars, in a bad year, and that his investments generated far more than that. It was true that half of his clients either paid little or no money, because they couldn’t afford his usual fees. The Seekers never turned someone away based on finances if they had a legitimate, urgent need and Mason felt his company could help them. But the rest of their clients more than made up for that financial gap.

  Wealthy businessmen were willing to pay a small fortune to protect their assets or to quietly resolve problems involving their families. Not to mention the lucrative hostage rescues the Seekers performed for corporations who didn’t want the public to know their CEOs had been taken captive on a trip out of the country. They couldn’t risk having their stock tank on that news. Business for the Seekers was good. More than good. But telling her that would only sound like bragging.

  It didn’t matter anyway. His hometown was no fan of him, no matter what he accomplished in life. The feeling was mutual. The secret trips he made to Beauchamp twice a year under the guise of vacations were just that—secret. Even his own family didn’t know he was there, since none of them were willing to risk being seen with him any more than Audrey was, once he’d filed that lawsuit.

  No one in Beauchamp ever saw past his alias and the movie-set-worthy disguise he’d paid a small fortune to obtain. Which was exactly what he wanted. He wasn’t there for socializing. He went there to work on his brother’s case, not that he’d made any real progress. It was taking far too long to get the locals to trust a supposed businessman on vacation twice a year and open up about anything they’d seen or knew. One of these days he’d have to put his life on hold and spend a couple of months in Beauchamp to really dig into the case. Maybe then he’d finally get justice for Landon.

  “If you’re not here for money, then why are you here? We both know you’re not really pining for me. Not after all this time. What’s going on?”

  Again, she looked like she wanted to say something important, but she just shook her head. Without another word, she got into her car.

  Mason had to jump back to avoid having his feet run over by her tires. He watched her tear out of the parking lot, going dangerously fast around a curve in the mountain road before disappearing from sight.

  He stood there a long time, reflecting on their oddly short and bizarre conversation. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make sense of it. Her past visits had been far less confrontational. They’d usually go to dinner, take a walk in the mountains, talk about old times—the good ones, before everything went bad. But no matter what he said or did, these trips of hers always ended the same way—with her storming off. If he lived to be a hundred, he didn’t think he’d ever understand her. Which was a sad statement, considering they’d known each other for several decades.

  Half an hour later he was standing at his kitchen sink, holding a shot glass of whiskey. Before taking a sip, he made the same toast he’d made on every anniversary of his brother’s death. “Landon, I promise I’ll never stop trying to find out who really killed Mandy DuBois. I vow to get justice for you, and for our family. Rest in peace, big brother.” He tossed the shot down, grimacing at the burn. But he knew from experience the next one would go down easier, and the next after that. The more drunk he got, the better the whiskey tasted.

  He was reaching for the bottle to take it to the family room when a floorboard creaked behind him. He jerked to the side, grabbing his gun from its holster. A masked man dive
d at him, tackling him to the ground. Mason arched off the floor, bucking the man off even as other masked intruders swarmed into the room. He swung his pistol around and squeezed the trigger.

  Pop, pop, pop.

  One of the men dropped to the floor, groaning.

  “Suck it up, Hank,” another man yelled. “You’ve got a vest on, you wuss.”

  Mason lunged to his feet.

  Someone slammed into his back, knocking him to the floor again. There were five of them, all wearing masks.

  “Grab his arms, Gary. Good grief. He’s just one man. Guys, help him.”

  Mason rolled and swung his gun around, but the one named Gary crashed down on his arm, knocking the gun away.

  The rest threw themselves on his legs, his other arm, his ribs.

  Mason bucked and thrashed, desperately trying to throw them off.

  “Sit on his back, sit on his back! Hank, quit rolling around on the floor. Get the syringe. Hurry!”

  One of the men slammed Mason’s jaw against the floor. A coppery taste filled his mouth.

  “Do it!” one of them yelled again. “Hurry up.”

  A sharp pain pierced the side of Mason’s neck. He tried to jerk his head back but the weight of all the bodies on him was too much. A heaviness flooded his limbs. They’d drugged him. He tried to twist away but he couldn’t seem to make his body obey his commands. He slumped against the floor, his muscles twitching, useless. His lungs seized as he gasped for breath, trying to draw in much-needed oxygen. Spots swam in front of his eyes.

  “Good gravy, how much did you give him? We don’t want to kill him. She wants him alive.”

  She? Were they talking about Audrey? Had the conversation in the parking lot been a test that he’d failed, and she’d sent these thugs to teach him some sort of lesson? He’d never known her to be violent in the past. Maybe this was related to his company, revenge because the Seekers had helped the police put someone’s family member in prison.