The Indigo Brothers Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vickie McKeehan

  “I’m like that,” he said with a grin. “What were you like as a little girl?”

  “Worshipped my dad, wanted to be a cop just like him. And before you ask, I get along fine with my mom. She teaches English and computer skills to immigrants, mainly because, I guess, her grandparents came here and struggled to fit in, so Mom helps others to adjust to life in the US.” She looked up from her screen. “But I don’t have the patience for teaching like she does.”

  “You’re a bundle of energy, an adorable bundle, but nonetheless driven to solve a puzzle. That’s why you’re a good cop. You’re only twenty-five. I doubt many of your clients know that since you try to act a lot older.”

  “Act older? How do I do that? You’re assuming quite a bit about me. And aren’t you just as driven to be the best surfer in the world?”

  “Every year I get a little less driven.”

  She studied his face, noted he was serious. “Really? Why? That surprises me.”

  “How do I put this? It gets more difficult to sustain the ambition to stay on top.” He really did want to know more about her. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask, when exactly did you and Dack Hawkins hook up? And for how long were you a hot item?”

  She cut her eyes, landed a heated stare. “That’s none of your business. It isn’t even relevant to the subject at hand, certainly not the case as a whole.”

  “It might be if it affects your work.”

  “It doesn’t. At. All. That’s over. Has been for…five years.”

  “No carrying a big-ass torch for him then?”

  “God no. Look, we were together about two weeks during the time I was at the police academy. Getting through those early days of training is tough for a woman. I was twenty at the time and suffering little panic attacks along the way, maybe even a ding or two in my self-confidence. One day I walked into class and spotted an old family friend. I latched on to his familiar face, had a few easy dates where we spent our time reminiscing about growing up in the same Miami neighborhood and before I knew it we were sleeping together. It was a mistake from the get-go. We broke it off, mutually, when we both realized we got together for all the wrong reasons.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t pick up on any residual chemistry between you two.”

  “Then why ask me about him?”

  “To see if you’d tell me the truth.”

  Absorbed in the hunt for information on Nathan, she ignored the comment. But it was harder to do with the man getting sloppy drunk beside her. “Look at this. There’s no indication Nathan flew anywhere. If he left the island at all he did so by car.”

  Garret shifted toward her, his body close to hers, and snapped the lid down on the laptop. “You’re working way too hard tonight, Anniston.”

  He began to nip her neck and spoke to her in what she thought sounded like French. “Garret, how many beers did you have before you got here?”

  “Mmm.”

  She tilted her neck to give him better access. “There are so many reasons we shouldn’t do this.”

  “But there’s only one reason for amore.”

  “Garret, you’re drunk.”

  “I know. If not for that, I’d be all over you.”

  She laughed. “If you were any more all over me we’d be sharing the same bones.”

  “We’re sharing the same bed. That’s gotta be good enough for tonight.”

  With that, his head fell back to the pillow. She shook her head. “Son of a gun. You just passed out on me.”

  Chapter Five - Heat

  Garret woke to a grating sound like a cement mixer grinding away at a construction site. Or it might be someone shouting in his ear. He tried to respond, but found his mouth was as dry as the Gobi Desert. He tried to form spit but the foul taste had his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth.

  He focused on every other word because the whole of it made his skull hurt. Through heavy-lidded eyes, he watched Anniston’s mouth move, full and sexy.

  “Garret, wake up. Your mother’s worried about you. She left a message on my phone.”

  Anniston saw him mumble something, but didn’t catch any part of it, so she poked him in the ribs again. “What did you say? I didn’t catch that.”

  He tried to lift his head despite his noggin feeling like it was about to tumble off his shoulders. The burn at the top of his head felt like someone had doused him with fuel oil. He spoke slowly because…well, because it’s the only way his brain could engage. “I said I left Mom a note on the fridge. Now go away.”

  She’d watched him sleep for almost five whole minutes, wondering why she’d never noticed the slight cleft in his chin, barely a dimple, but enough that it set him apart from his brothers. “Aww, that is so sweet. You actually left a note for your mom? Well, I already told Lenore you were here with me. So…”

  “Then why are you still yelling at me?”

  She ran a hand gently over his hair until it was out of his eyes. “Aww, that’s cute, ’cause I’m using my normal tone of voice. Does your head hurt and have a temperature?”

  “Go away.”

  “Are you sure you want me to do that?” She leaned in and whispered in his ear. “Because I ordered strong coffee and a full breakfast. It’ll be here in ten minutes or so. I didn’t think you were up to heading to the buffet.”

  “Coffee?” He snatched her hand when she tried to crawl out of bed. “I need a shower and a toothbrush, but I want to do this first.” He angled where he could cover her body with his.

  While his lean torso hovered above her, she felt the jolt of his touch. His rangy body skimmed hers. There was no doubt all of him was awake and aware and hard.

  Her heart took an extra lap in her chest while his mouth got busy. His skillful lips did things that made her warm all over. From somewhere inside she melted, yielded. The assault turned into a feast, a tightrope between want and need.

  It was the situation they found themselves in—part danger, part attraction. She worked her hands between their bodies and up to his chest, then gave him a little push. “We shouldn’t do this.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that.” Mischief winked in his eyes as his mouth grazed her lips again, tugging out a low, throaty moan. He felt her skin heat, her pulse pick up.

  The knock on the door signaled room service and brought them full circle from the night before. They’d slept in their clothes, side by side, and still the heat between them created a fully engaged inferno.

  She managed to get her breath back. “I’ll get it. I don’t think you’re in any condition to make it five feet.”

  He huffed out a laugh and watched her dash across the room. “Make sure it’s room service,” he cautioned.

  In one smooth motion, she picked up the Smith & Wesson from the nightstand on the way to the door. “This isn’t my first rodeo. But thanks for the concern.”

  The server came in and set up breakfast. All the while, their eyes remained on each other, even as she signed the tab.

  When they were alone, she brought the tray over to the bed, took a seat and poured the coffee. “Cream and sugar?”

  “Black. Thanks.”

  She looked down, stared at his jeans. “I see you’ve recovered.”

  “Disappointed?” His eyes cleared and he patted his chest. “Right here, baby. Just climb on top, and I’ll do the rest.” He reached for her hand.

  Anniston smiled and latched onto his fingers. “Don’t push it. Now drink your coffee. If your stomach is up to it, eat your eggs. On second thought, maybe toast would be better.”

  She leaned over and kissed his forehead. “If you weren’t so cute suffering from your hangover, I’d send you packing.”

  He lifted her hand, pressed his lips to her fingers. “Good to know you aren’t heartless.”

  “I think you’ll find I’m a very warmhearted person.”

  “I’m looking forward to finding that out. But right now, what I could really use is four aspirin if you have any on hand.”

&nbs
p; She placed a kiss on his forehead, turned his palm over, dumped several little pills into it. “You’ll also find that I think ahead. When I ordered breakfast I thought you might need something for the hangover.”

  “I think I love you,” he declared before he threw back the meds with his coffee.

  She choked out a laugh, slid a hand down his cheek. “We’ll see about that.”

  An hour later, Garret trekked through town toward the house on Quay Avenue to the sound of noisy seagulls. It occurred to him that it was already well into October. The days had flown by until it seemed he’d lost track. The month meant carved pumpkins on doorsteps and Halloween decorations popping up on windows all over town. In fact, he noted the blasts of orange and black plastered everywhere—the elementary school, the library, bars and restaurants, even city hall. Jack-o’-lanterns and ghoulish faces of all shapes and sizes adorned neighborhood porches and peered out, ready to greet unsuspecting trick-or-treaters at the end of the month. Scary witches took up guard over graveyard scenes spread out on the lawns. Any other time the displays depicting ghosts and goblins, even the ghoulish bloody exhibits wouldn’t have bothered him. But today—the day after he’d learned his sister and niece had suffered a gruesome death—it all seemed too much.

  Obviously that’s why he’d sought out Anniston’s company. It didn’t hurt to pursue a distraction. God knows, he needed one.

  He rounded the corner at the lighthouse and appreciated the bloom and look of autumn, although the temperature in the Florida Keys rarely dropped below a balmy eighty during the day. It was that time of year when people would start thinking about family holidays, like Thanksgiving, and getting their Christmas shopping done.

  He realized Christmas without Livvy and the kids would never be the same again.

  When he reached his parents’ house, Garret quietly opened the side door and snuck into the little mudroom. Before making his move, he wedged himself between the door and the washer waiting to see if anyone was milling around in the kitchen. His teenage years came rushing back to him in vivid color, all the times he’d done the same thing to keep from getting caught.

  Tanner sat at the kitchen table peeling an apple. As if his fatherly instincts went on radar, without even glancing in the direction of the utility room where his youngest son stood, Tanner said simply, quietly, “I told you to leave that woman alone.”

  “Technically…” Garret started to argue that the caveat had been that he would leave the private eye alone until she found Livvy. But since that no longer applied it was stupid, pointless, and just plain immature to bring it up to his dad now.

  Instead, he went over to help himself to a cup of coffee and kept his mouth shut. He folded into a kitchen chair with honesty at the forefront. “I needed someone to talk to.”

  His mother came in, ruffled his hair as if he were twelve again. “Did you get any sleep at all? Want some eggs?”

  “Nothing happened, okay?” Except for having her body up against his and a whirl of tongues mating that he’d like to repeat at the first opportunity, nothing at all had occurred between them.

  “Anniston ordered breakfast for us.” It wasn’t judgment he saw in their eyes but rather compassion. “Look, I went over to her hotel last night just to socialize for a bit, to get out of the house. I couldn’t sleep in Livvy’s old room. I couldn’t. We ended up talking for more than six hours about all kinds of stuff. By that time, I’d cleaned out most of the beer in her mini-fridge. I think she felt sorry for me.”

  Tanner put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Anniston has that look in her eye every time she’s around you. Think about it. She strikes me as the levelheaded sort. If she hadn’t wanted you there, she would’ve kicked you to the parking lot in a heartbeat.”

  “She didn’t do that.”

  Mitch came in, trying to wake up. He poured his own coffee and helped himself to eggs still warming on the stove. “Morning, stud muffin. Have a productive evening?”

  Garret sent his brother a broad smile and picked up his coffee. “As a matter of fact, I did. Want me to see if she has a friend for the lonely, solitary man you’ve become?”

  Mitch started to raise his middle finger but thought better of it under his dad’s watchful gaze. Instead, he dropped into the chair next to his brother.

  “Where’s Jackson?” Garret asked. “Did he make it official and move in to Nana’s bungalow?”

  The kitchen got even more crowded when Jackson and Tessa appeared in the doorway. “Sorry we’re late but we slept in. Yesterday was an emotionally draining day for all of us.”

  “Want some breakfast?” Lenore repeated.

  “Thanks, but Jackson fixed pancakes this morning,” Tessa answered.

  Lenore went to the cupboard, took out the Colombian java beans her sons seemed to prefer and dumped them in the grinder.

  Garret had intended to wait and let Anniston relay what she’d learned from her research into Dandridge and the like. But since the gang was all here, before he knew what was happening, the details came pouring out of him beginning with the pastor’s background.

  As she brewed another pot of coffee, Lenore’s hand went to her mouth in a gasp. “Boone stole money from the elderly? That’s pitiful. I guess we aren’t the only ones who trusted him. We’ve been a members of that congregation for more than twenty years. Since we’ve been back, he hasn’t stopped by the house or telephoned us once to pass along condolences. Not a word from him. That’s telling.”

  “Good God. For two decades he’s been our pastor. Maybe he’s the one who did something to Livvy. Did Boone serve jail time for this scam back then?” Tanner wanted to know. “Because that would explain his attitude when I mentioned visiting him at Raiford.”

  “You did what?” Garret asked.

  “I told Boone that if he was into anything illegal, I’d relish the idea of visiting him every week in prison.”

  Garret rolled his eyes. “Sheesh. I can see how that would get a reaction. The scam he ran was back in Oregon when he was Roland Wainwright. I guess facing a subpoena, Roland took off and headed to Florida, somewhere along the way he morphed into Boone. It might be that Buchanan recruited all these people to come here. They all have questionable pasts.”

  Mitch sat back in his chair and thought that over. “Scamming little old ladies is one thing, a Dixie mafia enforcer among us is a lot more serious. And does Sinclair know Baskin’s true past? I’m thinking he has to know about it.”

  “Yeah. Plus, if the mayor and Frawley are deeply in debt they could be blackmailed to do just about anything,” Jackson estimated.

  “Same goes for Sinclair,” Tessa reminded them.

  “You bet. But here’s the kicker. Anniston doesn’t think Royce is part of whatever hurt Livvy and the kids.” Before Tanner could raise an objection, Garret added, “I’m not saying I agree with her, but you do have to wonder. Royce has always been protective of Walker, overly so. Why would he risk dragging Walker into something dark and dangerous at this stage of his life? He’s already lost his wife and daughter. Wouldn’t it be more likely that Walker wanted to impress his old man so much, he did something completely off the radar?”

  Tanner nodded. “And incredibly stupid.”

  “Like going for the gold,” Mitch tossed out in agreement. “And hooking up with the wrong set of partners, getting in way over his head.”

  Lenore pressed a hand to her chest. “Should we still plan to do those interviews? I’m not so sure I can. If I get in Boone’s face now I can’t promise I won’t slap him silly.”

  Garret had been against the interviews from the beginning, fearing they’d yield nothing new. “I hear ya. Anniston’s background checks change the game.”

  Mitch grunted into his coffee. “Something to consider. If we get any of these four to talk to us at all, we have to be in total control of our emotions. Anything else and we’re liable to have confrontations with them instead of a simple Q & A session.”

  “But it has to be d
one,” Tanner concluded, glancing at his wife. “We can’t wait for law enforcement to get around to it. Your mother and I have known these people for two decades. We have to be able to gauge for ourselves whether or not Baskin, Dandridge, Oakerson, Sinclair, and Frawley were part of murdering innocent people.”

  Garret huffed out a sigh, knowing it was true. “Well, I doubt we’ll get Dietrich to speak to us. But Royce seems to like Anniston well enough. He might open up to her. During these ‘interviews’ for lack of a better description, we need to find the weakest link in the bunch, do our best to cut him off from the others, and either exploit or break him.”

  Jackson nodded, getting on board with the idea. “That’s okay by me. Any objections to that?”

  “So it’s a go,” Mitch declared. “Now all we have to do is decide who gets to talk to whom. Raine already mentioned she wants in on this.”

  “I certainly do,” Raine said from the back doorway, where she’d been listening.

  “How long have you been standing there?” Mitch asked.

  “Long enough. If no one else wants him, I’ll take Carson Frawley. Carson and I went out a couple of times about two years ago. He likes me. He’ll talk, especially about himself. I’ll be able to wade through his BS well enough.” She looked directly at Mitch and crossed her arms over her chest as if daring him to object.

  Mitch returned her cold stare and stood up. “You actually went out on a date with that guy? Why? Carson’s what, at least ten years older than you are? That’s so…pathetic.”

  “Well, thank you very much, Mitch Indigo. You’re such an expert on pathetic. At the time, I felt kind of like that. But you don’t get to tell me who I date. Got it? Back then, I considered Carson a viable candidate for an affair. And why not? He’s stable, owns his own business, and goes to the dentist regularly. You should see his teeth. But the best thing, and this is the icing on the cake, Carson doesn’t take off to the ends of the world every time the wind changes direction.”