Exhaling in frustration, she decided at that moment she’d rather tell him to take a flying leap off the town’s water tower.
Her gaze followed the long driveway with various trucks, SUVs, and luxury cars lined up on one side. When the limo passed a large black SUV, a huge man exited the driver side and watched as they drove to one end of the house. She doubted if Big Judd Richards could see through the tinted black windows. So she didn’t bother waving, and instead stared in amazement at the six-car garage.
Who in their right mind needed that many vehicles? She couldn’t imagine paying their insurance and maintenance bills.
She twisted in her seat hoping to see the cars parked behind each closed bay, but the driver stopped several yards away next to a side door leading into the house. A tall, thin woman stepped out onto the small porch and watched them exit the limo. Their housekeeper had been with them for years and everyone in Marystown knew her. Probably the only woman over fifty not rumored to have slept with old man Whitfield.
“Tick, show them to the den downstairs, and make sure they don’t leave. Tell Jimmie Sue to give them something to drink and snack on until supper.” Jake’s gaze swept over Angel, and a teasing glimmer returned to his eyes. She almost melted from the look. “Behave yourself. All of our guns are locked up, so I expect you to be there when I’m finished with my meeting, understand?”
She hid her surprise. He didn’t really believe she was dangerous, no matter how much he accused her of shooting at him. She found his attitude to be a curious contradiction.
“Do I have an option?” She wanted to go home and forget how he found it so easy to push her around. And for some unknown reason, she let him. Truthfully, she needed to be as angry at herself as she was with him. But what good would it do?
He laughed and turned away, walking with his brothers toward the front of the house. Satisfied that he didn’t know everything, she grinned. He was going to be plenty angry when he found out the truth.
Seeing Judd there reminded her he hadn’t called with the time and place to complete the requirements of her granddaddy’s will. She couldn’t wait to hear one certain asshole’s reaction to it.
Her attention drawn by Jake's broad shoulders slid over his jacket stretched tight to the point she wondered if the seams would split like the Hulk’s. The image of his shirt and pants tattered, slipping off with each step, revealing taut pecs and biceps glistening in the waning light caused her face to warm.
Tick cleared his throat behind her. Uncomfortable being caught dreaming about Jake’s clothes falling off his naked form, she forced her gaze to the big man called Tick and glared. His knowing grin irritated her.
“Come this way, and I’ll get you settled.” He tossed her the backpack, and she smoothly caught it. It felt lightweight. Her small Beretta was probably still missing inside. Tick continued to talk. “Wait until you see the room. It has an eighty-six-inch TV and stadium seating and a sound system that will blow you away. There’s also a popcorn machine. Jimmie Sue keeps two jars of cookies on the bar.” Tick put an arm around Damien’s shoulders and waited for her to walk ahead.
Her brother stared at the house with amazement. She knew he’d never been in the mansion. Even though their granddaddy had money and property―still nothing like the Whitfields―old man Mac Tally lived in a mid-size home. The man was frugal to the point he could make a penny scream. She and Damien lived in the double-wide they grew up in. It wasn’t until their mom died last year that Mac asked them to move into his house. She and Damien refused. Being under his thumb while she worked for him would be a bit too much.
She blinked a few times to get rid of the extra moisture. Despite her grandaddy being a hard-ass, she missed him.
The sun reflecting off the sparkly clean windows emphasized the difference in how they grew up. For that matter, Angel had a hard time not looking around. She guessed she would always have a feeling of awe. Only it was more about the man who lived in it than it was the house.
And what a shame Jake was similar to all the men she knew who never listened to what women said. When would he find out his bachelor days were over?
CHAPTER THREE
The old man’s cousins, Teddy Bear and Rat Boy, stood in the foyer, waiting for Jake when he walked into the house. Nicknames in the South made it easier for all the Michaels, Brians, and Matthews. When it came the two men standing in front of him, he no longer remembered the stories behind their nicknames, and Jake didn’t care, just as he refused to refer to them as his cousins. Too many memories of their jeers when he was a kid. They enjoyed abusing him including throwing rocks and calling him a bastard.
At the time, he’d wanted badly to be a part of a real family. With a mother more child than parent and a father who’d rather curse and slap him across the room, he never had a family that resembled the ones he seen with other classmates. When he discovered blood didn’t mean family, he treated the cousins with caution and avoided their presence as much as possible. But as the years went by, he had learned how to deal with their asinine ways, even while working with them through the family business.
For the last few years, they’d wiggled their way into the organization by providing transportation for the untaxed liquor Whitfield Industries brought in and distributed. No matter how he warned his old man, the cousins took over the family businesses’ freight logistics, especially the products requiring movement under the local authorities’ radar.
“Jake boy, we need to talk.”
“This isn’t a good time, Teddy.” Eventually he would need to deal with them, but the reading of the will took precedence. He sidestepped Teddy and headed toward the study with Ethan and Sen following.
“I believe it’ll be in your best interest to listen to me, boy.” Teddy’s tone warned of trouble if ignored.
Boy? The redneck had no common sense at all.
Jake stopped, nodded to his brothers to go on, and then turned to face the man. At five-eight, Teddy was nearly a half foot shorter, and with his rusty color hair and freckles, he looked like what people imagined as an older Tom Sawyer. Rat Boy looked nothing like his brother with greasy black hair and beady dark eyes.
“Me and Rat Boy have a proposition for you. I think you’ll want in.” He smirked and crossed his arms.
Tempted to knock him on his ass, Jake gritted his teeth and pointed to the dining room. If they wish to feed him some bullshit, he might as well be seated properly.
“Okay. What do you have to offer?” He leaned back in the chair and folded his hands above his belt.
On the opposite side of the table, the cousins sat next to each other.
“Cousin Dick was a real dick.” Teddy chuckled at his own lame joke and glanced over to Rat Boy who shook his head and indicated that he should move on. “We figure you hated him as much as everyone else. He did love baiting you and your brothers. I remember that one year he refused to let Jimmie Sue wash or buy you boys any clothes, not that he was ever generous. I hadn’t seen such filthy kids in my life. Whew-wee! Ya’ll stunk to high heaven before Social Services came after him. Or how about that time―”
“You don’t know shit about me and the old man. If that’s all you got, people are waiting.” Jake shook his head. He stood, preparing to tell them to go to hell, when Rat Boy stood up and blocked his way. Rat Boy was only a couple of inches taller than his brother, but he didn’t scare Jake one bit as he towered over them both. He would love a reason to beat the shit out of him. With the old man dead, there would be no one stopping him.
“Give us a minute more. You know how Teddy is. Let him finish. He’ll get to the point now.” He shoved his brother’s shoulder.
“Yeah. Right. See, me and Rat Boy have a plan. We’re guessing that you don’t really want anything to do with the old man’s businesses, what with him treating you and your brothers like shit all the time.”
Jake just stared at him. Teddy was as crazy as he acted. He remembered being beaten by those two often, until he wa
s big enough to fight back, about the same time the old man quit slapping him around. Besides, what would they know about what he did or didn’t want?
“Seeing that we’re older and know a lot more about the business overall than you and your brothers. The old man held his dealings tight to the chest, but we know a lot. So me and Rat Boy can run Whitfield Industries for ya, and we’ll make you honorary vice president. That’s right. Honorary has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? All you have to do is draw your paycheck and not do a thing. You can buy a nice modern place―better than this old dump―kick back and not lift a finger. Leave all of the hard work to us, and we can make you even richer.”
Were they out of their minds? Had they believed the old man when he called him lazy and stupid? From their eager looks, they obviously did.
“I tell you what. I’ll think on it and talk to my brothers and let you know our decision in a couple days.” That would give him enough time to set his plans in motion.
“I understand. You want to give your bast—half brothers a chance to express their opinion.” At Teddy’s intentional slip, Jake narrowed his eyes. “But don’t wait too long. Then again, the old man always said you were a smart ass.” Teddy laughed at his sorry joke again. A really bad habit he’d regret one day.
Jake turned toward the hallway, catching Rat Boy’s expression. Yeah. Teddy did all the talking, but Jake knew who to watch. It would be best not to underestimate Rat, as his cousins underestimated him.
Judd Richards waved to the numerous chair provided for the meeting.
“Gentlemen, if you would all have a seat, I’ll read the section of Dick Whitfield’s Last Will and Testament you’ve been waiting for in just a few minutes. For now, I’ve hit a snag. We’re missing one more person.”
Big Judd had been Dick Whitfield’s lawyer for as long as Jake could remember, but he didn’t trust the son of a bitch. Years ago, the old man had helped get Richards’s youngest son out of trouble. Mike “Tick” Richards wasn’t the smartest man alive, but he’d been loyal to the old man ever since, and now father and son’s loyalty belonged to Jake. When it came to Tick, he trusted as much as he could anyone who weren’t his brothers. He could only hope he was wrong and the elder Richards was as trustworthy.
Richards adjusted his glasses and squinted at his cell phone. “It appears I’ve just located the last person named in the will, and she’s in the last place I would’ve expected. She should be here any second.” He turned to Jake with eyebrows raised.
She? Had the old man forgotten to mention another woman? Jake knew of two women in town the old man had visited on occasion, but they understood the arrangement. They provided a service and a little company, and they received the old man’s attention and a nice allowance. The other possible scenario was a dead end, too, for the old man had told him he’d gotten himself fixed after Ethan’s mom turned up pregnant. So there was no chance of another sibling.
Jake glanced around the room to see who could be missing or if anyone had a clue to the mystery woman. Sen and Ethan shrugged their shoulders. His mom flashed a grin at him while the old man’s cousins sniggered from where they sprawled out in the chairs arranged at the edge of the room.
Rat Boy burst out laughing after Teddy mumbled something.
Then it hit him. Angel. Maybe he should have listened to what she had to say after all.
The door opened and with a swirl of black leather, she walked in and flopped into the chair Richards pulled out for her near the old man’s desk. She appeared upset but hard to tell beneath that white makeup. He did know that he liked seeing her pale breasts rise and fall with agitation above the red lace trim of her corset.
Jake tore his gaze from Angel and looked at Tick standing in the hallway, giving him a thumbs-up. He better mean the teenager remained in the den guarded by one of the other men. Keeping Damien in his control meant he controlled the sister, and he felt it would be very important before this was over.
The woman sat rigid, ignoring the whispers that circulated the room. Then Teddy spoke up. “Hey, what’s a Tally doing here?” The way he emphasized Tally sounded the same as something found beneath their feet.
Richards shuffled some papers and shot the men a look. “Shut the fuck up. The ball game starts in two hours and I plan to be sitting in front of my TV with a large bowl of salsa cheese dip, chips, and a cold one.”
A few nervous chuckles scattered across the small group until Richards cleared his throat.
Impatient, Jake shifted his chair. “Don’t even bother with all the legal gook, get to the meat of the will.”
“That’s my plan.” Lowering his reading glasses toward the tip of his nose, he cleared his throat again. “A week before Tally and Whitfield were blown up, uh, died at the Juicy Goose, and we still don’t know how it happened―”
“Get to the point.” Jake crossed his arms.
Everyone knew the old man had been trying to negotiate a peace treaty with Mac Tally. While Whitfields owned all of the clubs in the tri-county area along with controlling several bookies, the Tallys ran the high-stakes poker games in the back of their restaurants, convenience stores, and bait shops. The night club, the Juicy Goose, was the old man’s pride and joy, and he spent most of his evenings there. Instead of coming home at the usual time of midnight, he’d stayed drinking with Tally, supposedly celebrating a truce and the place blew up around three that morning, burning to the ground before the volunteer fire department arrived. They’d found two bodies burned beyond recognition, and the dental records matched.
Someone somehow stopped the two old men from leaving. It had to be murder.
Whenever Jake found the killer, the authorities wouldn’t find a tooth to match to their records. He’d do that not out of love. The old man never invoked love from anyone but his mom. No matter how evil he’d been, he hadn’t deserved death by explosion or fire. People needed to know how dangerous it was to mess with a Whitfield. Now more than ever, Jake and his brothers had to show how strong the Whitfields were together. Letting anyone get away with murdering the old man would be a sign of weakness.
“The point is thirty-thousand each goes to the cousins here,” he nodded toward Teddy and Rat Boy and their other two siblings, “and twenty-thousand each to Mike Richards and Jimmie Sue.” Jake had known Tick and the housekeeper were included in the will, and the gifts were no surprise though he never really expected the old man to give anyone a cent. “For Lydia Morgan, she’ll receive a hundred thousand and his newest Caddy and her allowance to continue for life.”
His mom had never harassed the old man about not marrying her after having Jake. So she actually was one of the few the old man put up with after he got what he wanted. He refused to live with her anymore, but he did adore her in his own way.
“Jake Whitfield receives Whitfield Liquor Distribution and the warehouses, Townsend the pawnshops and novelty shops, and Ethan the bars and night clubs. But they will share equal ownership of Whitfield Industries.” Richards swiped his forehead with a handkerchief. What was he so nervous about? Those were the same businesses they’d managed for the old man the last eight years between a few interruptions. Once again, not a surprise.
“This house and the one in Gulf Shores belong to...” Richards shifted a sheet of paper to stare a little harder at the words. “Sally Angela Tally, on the contingency of her marriage to Jake Whitfield, and two million will be transferred to her account once the marriage is consummated.”
“What the hell?” Jake shouted as he stood. Angel turned wide eyes his way when he leaned over her. “Did you have something to do with this? How much did you pay Big Judd?” he asked in an accusing tone.
“I didn’t―” Before she had a chance to say more, Richards slammed his hand on the desk.
“Enough! Jake, sit your ass down.” Richards held the edge of the desk. “I’ll ignore that you insulted me.” The big man blinked as if he realized he pushed a dangerous man. He was smart to know Jake’s control had worn thin.
Jake shifted his jaw in frustration. Then decided some one-on-one time would be necessary to straighten everything out.
“This reading is over. Everyone out! You two stay and you, too.” Jake motioned to his brothers and Angel to remain seated. “Where the hell are you going?” He pointed at Richards to return behind his desk.
Richards actually paled.
His mom stopped in front of him. “Jake, darling, there had to be a reason for your dad to want you to marry...uh...a Tally.” She looked at Angel as if she couldn’t figure out the joke.
“It’ll be okay, Mom. Go with Jimmie Sue. She’ll fix you a glass of sweet tea. If I can, I’ll check on you before you leave.”
Behind his mom, the cousins smirked as they walked out, eyeing Angel and laughing.
“If you’re sure.” His mom gave him a sweet smile.
Why Lydia Morgan moved in with Dick Whitfield when she was only eighteen and the old man a little over fifty, Jake never understood. Sure, she claimed she loved the old man, but he knew she wasn’t loved in return. Hell, the old man often laughed about how before the first year ended, he’d figured out Lydia’s daddy had hit her in the head one too many times. Maybe that was the reason she survived all the craziness the old man put her through.
When Jake was a kid, he heard Lydia’s one and only temper tantrum had come about when she was pregnant and discovered two other women expected the old man’s babies, too. A week after he was born, she’d found her stuff moved out into a nice condo in a new section of town. Ever since then, she’d been drifting from one hobby to another, trying to fill in the hole the old man had filled when she was younger.
Jake: A Southern Crime Family Novel Page 3
