The Elder: Mississippi Kings

by Aaron, Celia

  “Like hell I will.” Chief Garvey stomped up the steps behind Porter. “We don’t need those state assholes ruining this investigation. Unless you’re saying you can’t handle it, Arabella?” He peered at Logan and gave him a disgusted look.

  “I’m not saying I can’t handle it, but Chief—”

  “Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page. Logan gonna make it?”

  “Thanks for the concern, Chief.” Logan groaned. “Really appreciate it.”

  “I’ve been shot three times, son. And I’m none the worse for wear. You’ll get over it.” He pointed at Leonard’s body. “He tell you anything?”

  “I think he identified his killer. The man with the light eyes.”

  Chief Garvey’s mustache twitched. Nothing huge, just a slight jump. No one would have noticed, but I was looking up at him. I didn’t miss it. A sick feeling swirled in my gut.

  “You put out a BOLO on any man in the county with light eyes?” He hitched one thumb into the waistband of his pants. “That’s a lot of people, Arabella.”

  My tongue felt glued to the roof of my mouth. He knew something about the man with light eyes. He knew and hadn’t said anything. I dropped my gaze to Leonard. If the Chief had been straight with me, could I have saved him? What did the Chief know, and how long had he been watching me try to solve this case while withholding crucial information from me?

  “Arabella?” Chief’s voice filtered through my thoughts.

  I met his gaze again. “Yes?”

  “I asked if you’d checked the garage?”

  “No. Not this time.”

  Logan reached down and clutched my jacket, pressing it to his leg. “You go.” He gritted out, “But take one of those idiot Kings with you. I’ll be fine here.”

  “I’ll stay with the crybaby.” Chief shuffled inside and leaned against the wall. “I doubt anyone’s in there, but better safe than sorry.”

  I tried to search his face for any hint of lies, or maybe some sort of plot. Was the killer lying in wait for me in the garage?

  “I’ll go.” Benton grabbed his shotgun. “I’ll get Porter to search with m—”

  “I’m coming.” I pushed to my feet. No way I’d let Benton take a bullet for me.

  “Check it, but if you find someone in there, shoot first and ask questions later. Don’t risk yourself.” Chief covered his concern for me with his usual gruffness, but it rang true all the same. He knew something he wasn’t telling me, but he wouldn’t send me toward danger. Would he?

  I walked out of the shack as mistrust warred with my knowledge of Chief’s character, of our history together.

  “It wasn’t your fault.” Benton kept his voice low as we walked through the fading grass toward the back of the garage. He’d mistaken my worry for distress over Leonard.

  “I know.”

  “Okay. You just seem shaken is all.”

  “I’ve never fired my weapon at someone.” The scary part was that it had been easy. And I knew I could do it again if I had to.

  “That’s a good thing, and I hope that’s the last time.” He cut in front of me and cautiously opened the door.

  I wanted to pull him back so I could go first, but he eased inside, his gun up. My pistol was warm in my palm, and I had nine rounds left. Plenty to put someone down if need be.

  “Hang on.” I pulled the heavy flashlight from my belt and clicked it on. The strong beam cut through the gloom, revealing the same array of rusting parts and unused tools as before. We stuck close to the husk of a car and swept the place. Nothing. Then I turned around and caught the rickety ladder in the beam of the flashlight. “There.”

  Benton maneuvered toward it, the hollow sound of metal clanking through the dusty space as he knocked over an ancient gas can. “Shit.”

  “Do me a favor and keep your finger off the trigger.” I moved up behind him, the path to the ladder even narrower, dusty tarps covering mystery junk, lawn mowers, and an array of wire spools pressing close on either side.

  At the base of the ladder, he stopped and turned to face me. We were close, my chest almost touching his as dust motes swirled through the flashlight’s ray.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I stared at the open collar of his shirt, unsure if I could meet his eyes. Too many dark thoughts were passing through my mind, all the what-ifs around what had just happened. What if it hadn’t just been Logan’s leg?

  His palms warmed my upper arms, the same gentle grip from his house this morning—from when I wore only a towel. “You’re freezing.” He pulled me against him and opened his coat, wrapping it around me.

  “I’m fine.” Despite my insistence, I melted into his cocoon of warmth. It was what I needed, even though I couldn’t admit it, and certainly couldn’t ask for it. No one could see. It was just the two of us, hidden in the dark, pretending all of this was normal, pretending that maybe there was a connection between us.

  I clicked off the flashlight.

  “You’re safe.” He tucked my head under his chin. “When I heard the gunshot, I thought…” His voice faded, but his arms tightened around me.

  I closed my eyes and breathed him in, the clean scent of his soap and the underlying hint of something else—maybe of him. It was foolish, and I knew I was kidding myself, but I needed what he was offering. A simple touch to get my feet on the ground again, to push away the terror and the worry and the uncertainty that seemed to whirl around us like a tornado.

  My eyes began to sting, and I had to bite back tears. I didn’t even know they were there, lurking beneath my armor. Why did kindness bring them to the surface faster than anything else, even pain?

  “You’re safe,” he repeated, as if he was reassuring the both of us.

  We stood for a while, until the threat of tears receded, and my skin warmed under his embrace.

  I turned my head to the side and rested my ear against his chest. “If you tell anyone about this, I’ll deny it.”

  He shook with quiet laughter and nuzzled into my hair. “I wouldn’t say a word. Frankly, I was relieved you didn’t knee me or stomp my foot when I took the liberty of holding you.”

  “I should have.” I sighed.

  “Oh, come on. It’s not so bad, is it?”

  I smiled, and it was real. “I guess it could’ve been worse.” Stepping back, I missed his warmth.

  “Here, take this.” He started to peel off his jacket, but hit his elbow on the ladder. “Shit.”

  “Keep it. I’ve got a coat in the cruiser. Besides, I don’t need anything else weighing me down when I go up the ladder.” I clicked my light back on.

  “I’ll go.” He put a hand on a rung, his low voice like an invisible caress.

  “No. I’m lighter.” I focused the beam on the wood. “It might not even hold me, but I need to see what’s up there.” I holstered my gun and scooted past him.

  He moved around until he was behind me, his arms on either side of the ladder, caging me in. “I’ll hold onto it. Be careful.”

  I tested the first rung with a kick. It didn’t break, so I put my weight on it and pulled myself up. He pressed his chest to my back, his hands locked on the side rails. Focus. I took another step, then another, my flashlight thunking against the rungs as I climbed. I could almost see over the edge of the landing when the rung I was on splintered.

  “Shit!” I fell, but not far.

  “Gotcha.” Benton cupped my ass in his palms, then gave me a push. I pulled myself over the edge of the landing, the wood sturdy beneath my knees.

  “You good?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  “Anytime.” I didn’t miss the amused inflection.

  I trained the light ahead of me and moved forward into the cramped loft. The roof beams were right overhead, and I had to hunch to make progress. Compared to below, the loft was nearly empty, only a few odds and ends tossed on the floor. I inspected the wooden two-by-fours beneath my feet. They were old and splintering just like the ladder
, but there was a clear path where the dust had been disturbed. I followed it a few paces until I reached a large steamer trunk, the kind that those antiques shows would say was worth a small fortune. It was unlocked, so I lifted the top, the joints creaking. When it was open, I blinked to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.

  “See anything?”

  Focusing the beam on the trunk, I stared. “I should say so.”

  “What?”

  “From the looks of it? About ten thousand dollars.”

  25

  Benton

  Porter counted out the last stack of bills and set them on Millie Lagner’s dining room table.

  “How much?” Chief Garvey stood in the doorway, casting glances down the hall at the crime scene tech.

  “Twelve thousand and change.” Arabella finished the tally in her notebook.

  Chief Garvey whistled. “What was Leonard doing with that kind of money?”

  She flipped a few sheets back in her notes, then set the pad down. “I think that Leonard was working for Judge Ingles on multiple fronts. And it all comes back to the judge’s money. If I can figure out where it came from, maybe I can figure out why the murders are happening. It has something to do with the man with light eyes.” She glanced at Chief Garvey, then continued. “I think he or Leonard killed Randall King and Letty Cline, probably on the judge’s orders. Maybe the judge sent the man with light eyes out here to clean up his loose ends by killing Leonard.”

  Chief Garvey furrowed his eyebrows. “I’m hearing a lot about what you ‘think’ happened. What do you know?”

  “We know the judge ran. We know someone in his house took a shot at me. Maybe Leonard, maybe Light Eyes. We know the judge is the one with a money trail that doesn’t add up.” She rose. “The next step is to search his place on the edge of the county.”

  I nodded my agreement, and the chief shot me a glare.

  “I just need to find the judge, and I need him to talk.” She seemed certain she could manage it. “He’s the thread that runs through all of this.”

  Chief Garvey seemed to chew on her words, his mustache twitching before he finally stilled. “All right. Let’s get out there. I’ve been wanting to see it ever since you told me he had a secret mansion.”

  “I’ll come, too.” Porter eyed the cash, the green bills stacked up neatly inside a black garbage bag. “It’s out of the county, but I know Ted, the Coffee County Sheriff. He still owes me a favor for that time I helped his mistress out of a DUI when she and her smoking hot sorority sister—”

  Chief Garvey held up a hand. “We can use all the help we can get, especially now that Logan’s going to be spending his evening at the hospital. Arabella, head out. I’ll follow you.”

  “On it.” Arabella strode down the hall and said a few words to Pauline, then hurried to the front door. “How many deputies can you—”

  Chief Garvey grabbed the bag and hefted it over his shoulder as his phone rang. He pulled it from his belt and grimaced at the number. “Hang on.” He stepped onto the porch.

  “I’m coming with you.” I followed Arabella into the hall.

  “I’ve got Garvey and Porter, plus Porter’s deputies.” She seemed so confident, the moment in the garage gone. “You should hang back, check on Charlotte.”

  “Like hell I will. I’ll ride with Porter. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

  “I don’t need you to save me, Benton. I’m not that kind of woman. Never have been.”

  “I know that.” I stepped closer to her, forcing her to meet my gaze. “It’s one of the things I like about you. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need me at all.” I’d work as hard as I could just to hear those words from her lips— “I need you.”

  Porter edged past us and out the front door, but not without giving me a knowing glance.

  “You could get hurt.” She shook her head as I stepped closer.

  “I could.” I pressed my index finger under her chin and tilted her face up to mine. “So could you.”

  She didn’t smack my hand away. Instead, her lips parted on a soft sigh. “This is my job. I agreed to take this risk the second I signed on.”

  What I wouldn’t give just to taste her. I leaned closer. “I’m a deputy these days. All about some danger.”

  She smirked, the corner of her mouth tempting me. “I’m pretty sure you’re a starched shirt attorney. At least you were when I met you a few days ago.”

  “A lot has happened since then.” Closer still, our lips were only a breath away from touching.

  Her eyelids lowered as I ran my fingertips down her neck, her pulse fluttering under my touch.

  The door opened, jarring us out of the stolen moment.

  She stepped back and cleared her throat.

  “Chief Garvey just took off,” Porter announced.

  “What?” Arabella pushed past me and stared out the door at his disappearing cruiser. “Why?”

  “He said the hospital called. Lina woke up.” Porter pushed his hat back on his head. “I guess that means he’s out, at least for this part of the investigation.”

  “Lina’s awake?” Arabella seemed stunned, but then the ghost of a smile crossed her face. “Thank god. That’s the first good news we’ve had in I don’t know how long.”

  Porter scuffed his boot on the concrete porch. “Since, um, the chief’s out, would you mind letting Benton ride with you? I’ve got some stuff to do.”

  “While you’re driving?” She cocked her head at him.

  He put one hand on his hip. “I’m a very important sheriff, Arabella. I have to multitask, even when I’m driving.”

  I knew he was full of shit. Arabella did, too, but she simply walked past him and down the stairs.

  Porter gave me a grin and waggled his eyebrows. “Now you owe me one.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  He followed me out into the driveway. “You still owe me one.”

  Arabella cranked her cruiser, and I dropped in next to her, closing the door as Porter walked by with a wink.

  “He’s not obvious or anything.” She put the car in reverse as I returned the shotgun to its spot between the seats.

  “Subtlety has never been his strong suit.”

  “Oh, I remember.”

  I didn’t like the way she’d said it, but I tried to keep my tone even. “Were you two close in high school?”

  She shot me a sideways glance. “What are you really asking?” She turned onto the highway leading out toward Coffee County.

  “Were you two, you know…” Please say no.

  “Were we together? No. Did we hang out sometimes, drinking beer we were too young for and smoking cigarettes that made us cough? Yeah.”

  Sounded like Porter. “I wish I’d known you back then.”

  “Yeah?” She shook her head. “I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have looked at me twice. After all, I wasn’t quite up to the King standard.”

  “I was a prick in high school.” I settled lower in my seat. “Loved rules, especially playing by them. Porter was my nemesis. I couldn’t stand how he’d fly by the seat of his pants, but somehow still manage to come out on top.”

  “Like the way he became sheriff?”

  “Exactly like that.” I still couldn’t believe he’d won the county election. “I was always trying too hard. All of it just so I could impress my dad, make him think I was worthy to carry on the family business. It was all I thought about, really. Porter was out chasing skirts, and I was at home studying for exams.” A wry chuckle escaped me. “The truth was—and I’d never tell him this—was that I wished I could be like him. He didn’t care about what Dad thought, not like I did. And it seemed to make Dad think even more of him. But if I stepped out of line…” I clenched my jaw shut, thinking of some of the harsh words my father had thrown at me over the years. He’d always reminded me I was the elder, the one who was responsible for the other two.

  “Doesn’t seem like he treated you equally.” Arabella’s voice
was soft even as she tore up the asphalt toward the judge’s house.

  “He didn’t.” And I hadn’t realized how much resentment I still bore from it.

  “There are so many perks to being an only child.” She smiled, lightening the mood. “All the Christmas gifts, mine. No pesky siblings to fight with. Nobody vying for the attention that was mine, all mine.”

  “Sounds heavenly.”

  She shrugged. “Lonely.”

  I peered through the small window into her past. “So you were a wild child in high school?”

  She smiled, a memory tickling some spot in her mind. “I did some stupid things—many of which your brother was witness to and has been sworn to secrecy about—but I managed to get good enough grades to go to community college. Mom instilled in me from a ridiculously young age that I needed to be able to support myself. Didn’t need to rely on a man, only myself. Not that she needed to tell me that, since she raised me on her own.”

  “How did you meet Vivi’s father?”

  She stayed silent and chewed her bottom lip as we rocketed around an 18-wheeler, red and blue lights flashing.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to push—”

  “No, it’s fine. I met him while I was working at the Skate N’ Shake close to school.”

  “You wore roller skates and served up fried food?” I tried to imagine her in the shorty-shorts and tank top the restaurant required. Hell.

  “Yep. It paid for my books. He came in one day, then the next, and on and on for weeks on end. Every time he asked me out, I said no. I didn’t have any plans to be someone’s girlfriend, and definitely not a wife.”

  “What made you change your mind?”

  “He was persistent.” The wistfulness in her voice made me jealous of a man I’d already decided to despise. “I eventually gave in, and he was charming…at first.” She slowed and peered at the left side of the highway where dirt roads meandered off into the trees at intervals. “They always are at first. Abusers and drunks and any sort of bad news, really. They start off great. Thoughtful, caring, just what you’re looking for. And you’re the frog in the pot, the water getting hotter and hotter until you’re boiling.”