by Jana DeLeon
“I’m not sure.”
She blew out a breath. “Well, I guess this experiment isn’t going to last.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “But I figured you should know. I’d hate for him to show up in the café one morning and surprise you.”
“Thanks,” she said and started to walk off.
“Hey,” I said before she could leave. “Would you mind getting me a glass of water? I need to take an aspirin.”
“No problem,” she said and poured me a glass from the serving tray near the wall. She placed the glass on our table and took off for the kitchen.
I pointed to a plant in the corner beside me. “Is this real?”
“Of course it’s real,” Ida Belle said.
“Good,” I said.
I picked up the glass by the bottom and poured the water into the planter, then looked over at Gertie. “You got a baggie?”
Gertie handed me a baggie and I placed the glass in it and handed it to her. “Put this in your purse. I’ll bring it back to Francine later.”
“What in the world are you doing?” Gertie asked.
“Running Amber’s prints,” Ida Belle said. “You thinking it’s a domestic violence situation?”
“That would make the most sense,” I said. “Perhaps his heartfelt declaration about how wrong it is to hit women is guilt talking.”
“But there’s nothing on Brandon’s record,” Gertie said. “If she’d called on him, there would have been something.”
“She might not have reported him,” I said. “But women often have a pattern of getting involved with the wrong kind of men.”
“Oh,” Gertie said. “You’re thinking she might have reported someone else before Brandon and she’s repeating the cycle.”
“It would explain why she’s here and why she didn’t look happy to see him,” I said. “And it would also tell us that Brandon doesn’t have a problem with violence against women. It doesn’t prove anything with regard to Emmaline and St. Ives, but it sets a precedent.”
“That’s a good point,” Gertie said. “You’re starting to think like a DA.”
“God forbid,” I said.
Ally stepped back up to the table and took our order. When she was done, I made a motion toward Amber, who was taking an order on the other side of the café.
“What’s the deal with her?” I asked.
Ally frowned. “I can’t figure her out. She’s a good server—even Francine thinks so. Pleasant and keeps up with her tables. But I’ve tried chatting with her while doing our side work and she changes the subject as soon as anyone asks a personal question. You think she’s got trouble?”
“Probably,” I said.
“Well, whoever she’s worried about better not come here,” Ally said. “You know how Francine is about her employees. We might as well be family.”
I nodded. “Do me a favor and let me know if there’s ever a dustup.”
“Are you expecting one?” Ally asked, looking a little worried.
“No,” I said. “But it’s Sinful.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
After breakfast, we headed across the street to the sheriff’s department. Carter was already in his office, looking just as frustrated today as he’d been the night before.
“I take it Whiplash never showed up?” I asked as we sat down.
“No,” he said. “Deputy Breaux and I did another knock on all the trailers early this morning, figuring no one would be gone yet. We made a lot of people mad and I sort of implied that until we found Whiplash, it would be a regular occurrence, but it still didn’t result in anything. Either they don’t know or they’re never telling.”
“What about Brandon?” I asked.
“Gone with the wind,” he said. “Or maybe I should say gone with the Whiplash.”
“I wish we knew what they were up to,” Ida Belle said.
“Do you think one of them is who ran you off the road yesterday?” Gertie asked Carter.
“Given that Whiplash was going to blow up Fortune’s house, I think we have to presume he’s not opposed to violence at any level if there’s something he wants,” Carter said. “And with him and Brandon bunking together and disappearing at the same time, it’s way too much coincidence for me.”
“That’s what we thought,” I agreed. “But all of this for what purpose? We always come back to the same questions—which is why was St. Ives killed? Why was he hired to watch Emmaline? What’s Brandon’s angle? It’s all part of the same master plan, but I still don’t get what it is.”
I motioned to Gertie to hand me the glass and passed it over to Carter, who raised an eyebrow.
“What is this?” he asked.
“My prints are on the bottom,” I said. “But toward the top will be prints for the new server at Francine’s—the one who looked startled to see Brandon. I thought maybe you could run her.”
I explained my domestic violence theory.
He nodded. “I’ll take a look. What are you guys up to today?”
“Someone needs to find Whiplash and Brandon,” I said.
“Those carnival workers aren’t going to talk to you,” he said.
“I know,” I agreed. “But at some point, they’ll be out of their trailers and at work.”
He gave me a look of dismay.
“See?” Ida Belle said. “That’s why we keep you in the dark.”
“Someone tried to kill both of us,” I said. “Do you really care how I go about things at this point?”
He shook his head. “Just be careful. I heard from the bomb squad just before you guys walked in. Those explosives were military grade, not homemade junk.”
“Whiplash had a Marine Corps tattoo,” I said. “He might still have connections.”
Gertie sighed. “It is entirely too easy to buy military-grade weapons these days. They’re getting into the hands of the wrong people.”
We all stared.
My phone rang and I checked the display. Mannie.
“Walter filled me in this morning on the bomb and Carter’s accident,” Mannie said when I answered. “Takes everything up a notch.”
“Or two,” I agreed.
“Well, I have some good news for you,” he said. “Cam did have an older brother. Thirteen years older to be exact.”
“Holy crap!” I said and jumped out of my chair. Everyone stared at me and I said to Mannie, “We’re with Carter now. Let me put you on speaker and say that again.”
I put the phone on the desk. “Go ahead.”
“Carter,” Mannie said, “your dad had a brother thirteen years older than him.”
“Holy crap!”
“Son of a—”
“I can’t believe it!”
Everyone spoke at once.
“Tell me everything,” Carter said.
“Named Sean, and from the dates I found, he might have been a wedding night baby,” Mannie said. “According to a couple of teachers I found that he had in school, he was trouble from start to finish. Your grandparents couldn’t do anything with him. An old neighbor of theirs said Sean was arrested the first time when he was twelve and he did plenty of time in juvie. He ran away when he was sixteen and would show up from time to time with his hand out but wouldn’t come back home.
“I wonder why my dad didn’t remember?” Carter asked.
“He was only three when Sean ran away and my guess is your grandparents kept him away from Cam when he showed up for money,” Mannie said. “Sean was arrested out of state a couple years later for stealing a car. He served two years on that one and that was just the start of his career as a criminal. He spent more time incarcerated than he did out.”
“Jesus,” Carter said.
“Yeah,” Mannie said. “Your grandparents cut him off completely after his arrest and even moved to a new neighborhood, but he found them again. According to one of your grandfather’s old running buddies, there was an incident when your dad was seven and Sean tried to pick him up from schoo
l. Your grandparents were afraid Sean would take Cam and hold him for money, so they packed up in the middle of the night and moved to Sinful—a place where they didn’t know anyone and where they thought he wouldn’t find them. Apparently, your grandfather had made good money and socked it away. Along with his inheritance, they had enough to live so no work records to track them by. He gave his middle name for documents and bought the house using a trust.”
“And with LeBlanc being such a common name, they thought Sean wouldn’t find them,” Carter said. “But apparently he did and that’s who Walter saw that day.”
“Yeah, and just guessing on timing of that one, it looks like Sean had warrants out for his arrest around the time that Walter indicated and went to prison shortly after,” Mannie said.
“What did he go in for?” Carter asked.
“Armed robbery of a convenience store,” Mannie said. “He killed the clerk and shot a delivery driver who’s still in a wheelchair.”
“Oh my God,” Gertie said.
Carter shook his head in disgust.
“Sorry to unload all that on you,” Mannie said. “He did ten years inside and was released on parole. Got a job with a construction company in New Orleans after that and his parole officer signed off on him leaving.”
“They were probably happy to see him go,” Ida Belle said.
Mannie nodded. “Best I can figure, he was only in New Orleans a year or two, then headed back to North Carolina. He must have hooked up with Brandon’s mother shortly thereafter. He went back to prison a year after Brandon was born for stealing a car.”
“Where is he now?” Carter asked.
“Died inside,” Mannie said. “Got an additional fifteen for killing two prisoners and a security guard after he went back in for the auto theft. About ten years into that sentence, he picked a fight with someone better at knife games than he was. I got in touch with a couple of the prison guards and they said he never mentioned having a kid, but I don’t figure that means much.”
“I’m sure in his mind, he never did,” I said. “Assuming he even knew.”
“I wonder how he found them in Sinful?” Ida Belle asked.
“I asked, but no one can answer that,” Mannie said. “Could be he lucked out and got someone stupid on the phone at a business and asked for a forwarding address. I’ve done it more times than I can count. It’s an old trick.”
“Anything else, Mannie?” I asked.
“I did a check for that carnival manager that ghosted,” he said. “Haven’t located him yet.”
“Add Whiplash and Brandon to the ghost list,” I said.
“You want me to look for them?” Mannie asked.
“I’ve got that covered,” I said.
“Then that’s it for me,” Mannie said. “Let me know if I can help with anything else and watch your backs.”
I hung up and we all stared at one another for a bit.
“I think we all agree that Sean is Brandon’s father, right?” Ida Belle asked.
Everyone nodded.
“Then how did he even find out about Cam?” Gertie asked.
“He might have known all along who his father was,” I said. “For all we know, he talked to Sean when he was on one of his stints out or even visited him inside. We only have Brandon’s word that his mother never told him.”
“So why claim it’s Cam?” Gertie asked.
Carter shook his head. “I wish I could think of something, but I just don’t have an answer that makes sense.”
I blew out a breath. “I think the answer to that question would blow this whole thing wide open. Well, if there’s nothing else, I guess we better get out of here and see if we can find Brandon or Whiplash.”
“There’s way too many people missing right now,” Gertie said.
As we headed out of the sheriff’s department, a man in a military uniform held open the door and nodded to us as we passed. I stopped on the sidewalk.
“Did you guys recognize that man?” I asked.
They both shook their heads.
“He looked too old to be someone Carter served with,” Ida Belle said. “Maybe a commanding officer?”
“Maybe,” I said, but I had a funny feeling. “Let’s wait here for a bit.”
Ida Belle narrowed her eyes at me. “Your gut kicked?”
“Like a mule,” I said.
She nodded and sat on a bench. “It’s about time.”
Ten minutes later, the unknown military man exited and my phone rang.
“Did you guys leave town already?” Carter asked.
“We’re sitting outside the sheriff’s department,” I said. “I had a feeling.”
“Get in here. You’re not going to believe this.”
We hurried into Carter’s office, anticipation filling the air. Carter stared at us, his expression one of slight disbelief and anger.
“The man who just left here is a Marine attorney,” Carter said. “When I was serving, there was an old colonel who was about to retire—everyone called him the Grinch because he seemed to hate everything. My dad laughed when I told him about a run-in I’d had with him because my dad served directly under him for several years. He said he was called the Grinch back then, too, but had one of the sharpest minds for strategy he’d ever seen.
“Anyway,” he continued, “according to the attorney, my dad saved the colonel’s life in the first Gulf War, and the colonel contacted my dad every year on that anniversary to thank him. The colonel never married or had a family, and he passed away yesterday after being ill for some time. Anyway, between an inheritance from his own family and never spending much of his military pay, the colonel racked up some hefty balances in his bank accounts…and he left it all to my dad…a million dollars.”
We all stared.
“So what happens to the money given that your dad is no longer with us?” I asked.
“There’s a stipulation for that, which is why he never bothered to redo his will after my dad passed,” Carter said. “In the event that my dad’s death preceded the colonel’s, the money would be divided among my dad’s biological children.”
I jumped up from my chair. “That’s it! That’s the answer. Brandon was trying to cash in on your inheritance.”
“But how did he know about the colonel’s will?” Gertie asked.
Carter shook his head. “I don’t know. The colonel was stationed in North Carolina at the same base my father served on. So is the attorney. Brandon’s grandmother worked on base for a while. She might have overheard something.”
Ida Belle nodded. “And if they knew who Brandon’s father was by then, she might have come home complaining about how her daughter had picked the wrong brother to have a child with.”
“Whiplash was a Marine too,” I said. “I don’t know how he hooked up with Brandon, but the information could have come through him.”
“There’s definitely still a ton of unanswered questions,” Carter said, “but the big one is answered.”
“I’ll bet when St. Ives went digging, he found out about the fake father switch and the inheritance,” I said.
“And that didn’t match up to the reasons he was hired,” Ida Belle said. “I can’t imagine what Brandon told him or where he got the money to hire him.”
“Maybe he took after his father and pulled a robbery,” I said. “He just didn’t get caught that time.”
“We still have a huge problem,” Gertie said. “Without Cam’s DNA, we can’t prove that Brandon isn’t his son.”
I grinned. “Sure we can. Given Sean’s many prison visits, his DNA will be in CODIS.”
Gertie jumped out of her chair and let out a woot.
Ida Belle and Carter smiled.
“Now all we have to do is find Brandon,” Gertie said.
I blew out a breath. “Yeah, that’s all.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Twenty minutes later, we were on the highway on our way to the fairgrounds. I’d called Mannie and brought him up t
o date and he was going to make some calls and then head to the fairgrounds to do some questioning himself. Being the Heberts’ right-hand man, he could get information out of people sometimes that they would never give to anyone else.
Carter’s call came through just as we were pulling into the parking lot.
“Whiplash is dead,” he said.
“What? When? How?”
“Found in the funhouse. Gunshot to the back of the head. And guess who one of the carnival workers said he saw running from the fairgrounds before dawn this morning when he was trying to walk off a migraine?”
“Brandon.”
“He’s trying to clean up.”
“It’s a little late for that. Is Deputy Breaux still sitting on his truck?”
“Yep. And he hasn’t seen anything stirring. I’m on my way now to try to secure the scene, although I predict Palmer will show up to lord over it and threaten me.”
“Who called it in?”
“A carnival worker called it in, and it went to our dispatch. Sheriff Lee was on-site with Deputy Breaux and he’s covering things for now, which is why I’m driving like a maniac to get there.”
“Okay. Let me know if you get anything else useful.”
“You’ve backed him into a corner. He’s not going to go down easily.”
Ida Belle had stopped in the parking lot and I filled them in.
“Where to now?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Brandon’s on the run, so how would he get away? He’d need a vehicle and I’m sure he realized his is being watched.”
“He didn’t lift one from one of the carnival employees, or dispatch would have gotten a call on that as well,” Ida Belle said.
“He probably hiked it down the highway to the motel and got one there,” I said. “Given their sketchy clientele, someone’s probably sleeping off a bender and hasn’t realized his vehicle is gone yet.”
“Which makes him rather impossible to find,” Ida Belle said. “The guy has no permanent residence, no family, and no belongings that we’re aware of except what was in his truck and Whiplash’s camper. He could be anywhere.”
