by Leigh, Lora
Zeke entered his office two days later to find the coroner Jay Adams’s report on Callie Walker’s death. Joe and Jaime’s grandmother hadn’t died accidently. The blow she had received on the head had been delivered by a blunt object rather than the side of the bathtub as it had been made to appear.
The blow could have been fatal in time, but the cause of death had been drowning as she lay in the bathtub.
He read the report before breathing out roughly and shaking his head. The coroner had released the bodies for burial, and Lisa Walker had been notified.
He rubbed his hand over his head before taking the file and locking it in the file cabinet. Joe and Jaime, and then their grandmother. A woman tied them together and Zeke was no closer to figuring out who that woman was than he had been the day of the twins’ deaths, just as he, Cranston, or the Mackays were no closer to finding the killer.
He’d questioned everyone he could think of to question. Even the Mackays had come up blank on the woman’s identity. That didn’t make sense. Pulaski County wasn’t that large. It thrived on gossip as any small county did. Zeke bet he knew every lover, potential lover, or wannabe lover that Joe and Jaime could have had in their sexual lives. All but one. The one that had led to their deaths.
Or had she been the one to commit the murders?
The twins’ phone records had revealed very little. They had no cell phones, so there were no records to trace there. There was just nothing left to go on except his gut-deep certainty that all three murders were linked.
At this point, there wasn’t much more he could do without any leads. Lisa Walker had called earlier, informing him that she would be returning home unless he was close to an arrest. She had things to take care of, and her sons’ father wanted the boys back in town. Lisa still had family here, too, her job, a life. She couldn’t stay away indefinitely.
That was an additional worry. Whoever had killed the twins and their grandmother, Callie Walker, wouldn’t hesitate to kill again. He had a feeling the murderer might have even enjoyed the elaborate game that had been made of the deaths, just as Cranston had suggested.
A knock at his office door had him moving from the file cabinet back to his desk as the door opened and his secretary peeked in.
“Zeke, you have a visitor.” Kendal Birchfield arched her expressive brows as her blue eyes twinkled with amusement. “Mr. John Calvin Walker Jr. requests a few moments of your time.”
Zeke’s brows arched. John Calvin Walker Jr. It couldn’t be anyone other than Calvin Walker’s son.
Zeke grinned as he took his seat. “I have a few minutes, Kendal. Show him in.”
Kendal winked back at him playfully before closing the door. A few seconds later it opened it again and Mr. John Calvin Walker Jr. entered the room.
Zeke wasn’t certain what he was expecting in the form of Rogue’s brother. A polished Bostonian lawyer, perhaps. John Walker was known as a lawyer with teeth. He was picky about the cases he took, but the ones he took he rarely lost. Zeke’s contacts in D.C. had placed the younger man as an up-and-coming political force to be watched.
It wasn’t the first impression Zeke had of him though. John Walker was dressed in jeans, a rumpled white cotton shirt, and well-worn boots. Zeke would have pegged him for a California surfer boy.
“Sheriff Mayes.” Violet blue eyes were set behind thick blond lashes in a sun-darkened face. Overly long white blond hair fell almost to his shoulders and framed hard, slashing features.
The boy looked a lot like the father had when he was younger, except Calvin Walker had sported red hair rather than blond and had been broader, more muscular, where John Walker was leaner.
His handshake was firm and hinted at strength. His gaze was cool and determined, and Zeke understood why his contacts in D.C. foresaw a political future for this young man. Zeke saw something that perhaps they didn’t though. He saw a decided lack of true deception in the other man’s eyes.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Walker?” Zeke held his hand out to the visitor’s chair in front of his desk as he took his own seat.
John Walker sat, though he slouched with lazy negligence.
“So, you’re the sheriff sleeping with my baby sister.” John’s smile was tight and hard. “I was wondering what had Jonesy so worked up about you. I understand now.”
Zeke leaned back in his chair and arched his brow. “Last I heard Rogue was over twenty-one.”
John’s eyes narrowed. “Caitlyn,” he corrected softly. “And she may be over twenty-one, but you, Sheriff Mayes, are nearly old enough to be her father.”
Zeke stared back at him implacably, refusing to be drawn into whatever fight the younger Walker thought he was getting ready to start.
“Your sister is Rogue in these parts, Mr. Walker,” he said evenly. “I haven’t known a man yet that called her Caitlyn that didn’t end up on his knees with his hands covering his balls. She has a wicked knee. And you’re exaggerating the age difference by quite a bit.”
John’s grin was slow and filled with amusement this time. “Little witch. She always did know how to go for the weak spots.” His smile dropped just as quick. “That doesn’t tell me why a man your age is taking advantage of my sister. Or a man of your past.”
Zeke stayed still. He stared back at Rogue’s brother coldly, sensing what was coming. This younger Walker was no man’s fool; he would have run a check on Zeke the minute he knew his name, and the information he could have found would have worried any brother.
“You have quite a reputation in L.A.,” the other man stated. “The detective who took down one of the most corrupt underground BDSM communities in the nation? After your wife’s death, you became quite enmeshed in the community before your investigation and the subsequent arrests were made, didn’t you?”
Zeke propped his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepled his fingers as he stared back at John Walker.
“The investigation had nothing to do with the BDSM aspects of that community,” he stated. “I was there to find a killer and a drug dealer, Mr. Walker. And the lifestyle itself has nothing to do with my relationship with your sister.”
John’s gaze sharpened. “Strange, I hear you don’t have relationships.”
“Strange,” Zeke drawled. “I hear that who your sister sleeps with or how she lives her life really isn’t any of your damned business. If that’s why you’re here, then perhaps you should head back home.”
“Or perhaps I should just ask my sister about it,” John suggested.
Zeke leaned forward, his arms bracing on his desk. “Mr. Walker, before this goes any further let me warn you right now, I won’t brook any interference in my relationship with Rogue. You don’t want to make an enemy of me, and that’s something your contacts should have warned you of. You might think you see a dumb hick sheriff sitting in front of you, but let me assure you, Mr. Walker, this dumb hick knows how to hold on to what belongs to him.”
Thick lashes narrowed over violet eyes as John stared back at him. “Are parking lot brawls a requirement of holding on to your woman in this town?” he asked. “I stopped by Jonesy’s before coming here. His face is a little worse for wear and yours isn’t much better, even two days later. What did Caitlyn think of your beating up on the man that protected her for four years?”
“What did you think of the reason he received that beating?” Zeke’s smile was cold. “Or didn’t you ask him why it happened?”
“He said he was protesting your treatment of Caitlyn,” John said softly. “Are you denying it?”
Jonesy had lied. Zeke had to admit that surprised him. He hadn’t thought the bartender would bother to lie.
“What happened will stay between me and Jonesy.” He finally shrugged. “If you have any questions or objections, then I imagine you’ll take them up with Rogue.”
“With Caitlyn,” John stated again.
“How old are you, Mr. Walker?” Zeke asked then. “Twelve? I think by now you’re well aware of the name y
our sister prefers, as well as the one that suits her best. If you can’t stop with the immature comments, then you can leave my office now.”
Silence filled the room as John stared back at him with eyes that were like chips of violet ice. Finally, the younger man straightened in his chair and his expression smoothed out.
“Joe and Jaime Walker, and their grandmother, Callie Walker, were murdered, weren’t they?”
The change of subject didn’t surprise Zeke. Whatever answers John had been looking for about his sister had evidently been answered. The air of confrontational disrespect had evaporated and clear, icy purpose filled those violet eyes. This was a man on a mission, and his mission was identifying and eliminating the threat to his sister.
“Where do you get your information from?” Zeke asked rather than answering.
John’s lips titled. “Let’s say I have my sources as I’m certain you have your own, Sheriff. Joe, Jaime, and their grandmother were important to Caitlyn. But even more, they were close to her. I’d like to know if her life is in danger as well.”
“I don’t know.” Zeke leaned forward and watched the younger man intently. “At this moment, I don’t believe it is, but I’m taking precautions just in case.”
“By sleeping with her?” There was a spark of anger in his eyes now.
“By taking precautions,” he repeated coolly.
John grimaced heavily.
“I’m going to assume you didn’t stop and see your sister before you arrived here,” Zeke said, more than certain that was the case.
John grinned wryly. “My balls are still intact. What do you think?”
“I think your sister must have known how to use that knee of hers before she ever made an appearance in Somerset.” Zeke grinned.
“Let’s just say I’ve experienced her wrath more than once. But in all fairness, I’m the one that first taught her the maneuver. A girl has to know how to protect herself.”
Zeke inclined his head in agreement. “And sometimes, a fist is needed rather than a knee,” he told the brother as he thought about his fight with Jonesy.
“Then essentially, you have no idea who killed Joe, Jaime, and their grandmother, Callie?”
Zeke shook his head. “All I know is that a woman ties them together. Joe and Jaime were involved with a woman together; they were due to meet with her the night they died. A few days ago, their grandmother told Lisa she thought she might know who the girl was. She was supposed to call me. She was found dead the next day. It looked as though she had slipped in the bathtub, hit her head, and drowned. The coroner’s report says otherwise. Callie Walker was murdered, just as her grandsons were.”
John reached up and rubbed one finger over his lower lip thoughtfully as Zeke stared back at him.
“Rogue was attacked six months ago because of something someone thought she knew,” he mused quietly. “She was hospitalized for over a week, Sheriff Mayes.”
“I’m well aware of that, Mr. Walker,” Zeke stated quietly. “I intend to make certain it doesn’t happen again.”
“As am I.” John stood to his feet then. The deliberate slouchiness he had displayed when he first entered the office was no longer apparent. The younger man moved with unconscious grace and predatory awareness now.
“John.”
John turned back as he reached the door, his expression brooding.
“Yes, Sheriff?”
“I don’t need civilian interference in this. This is my investigation. Don’t forget that.”
His lips quirked. “I’m here, Sheriff, to see after my sister’s welfare.”
“As long as you stay out of my investigation,” he agreed. “And my relationship with your sister.”
John arched an eyebrow. “You’re not her husband, and that’s the only relationship I’m required to stay out of where my sister is concerned. Perhaps that’s something you’d do well to remember.”
John opened the door, stepped out of the office, and with a click of the latch left Zeke alone with that final thought. It was a thought that should have filled him with a sense of dread. That was his normal feeling whenever marriage was mentioned. Strangely, the dread wasn’t there now.
He shook his head at the thought of that, grabbed up his hat before strapping on his weapon and heading for the door.
“Kendal, radio Gene and inform him I’m heading out. I’d like to meet up with him at the diner in town before he takes over the evening shift,” he told his secretary.
“Gene called in while you were meeting with Mr. Walker. He had to take the rest of the day off to take his wife to the doctor in Louisville.”
“Alicia all right?” he asked.
Kendal nodded. “It was a checkup, but she wanted Gene to go in with her. I think they’re going to visit with their daughter Willa while they’re there.”
Zeke nodded at that. “I’ll head on out then.”
“Sheriff, you had a call from Teddy Winfred. He asked that you stop by his place when you can.”
Zeke stopped and turned back to her. “Teddy lives on the road that leads to the Walker twins’ place, doesn’t he?”
Kendal’s expression sobered. “About two miles.”
“I’ll head out there now.”
“Sheriff,” she called him back as he started to head to the door.
“Yeah?” He turned to her again, seeing the worry in her blue eyes.
“He asked me to make certain no one knew that he asked you to come to the house. And he asked that you keep it to yourself.”
“Did you tell anyone he called?”
She tilted her head and stared back at him in disbelief. “Not hardly,” she said mockingly. “I didn’t even tell Gene when he called in.”
“I’ll head on out there then.” He nodded. “Let the deputy on duty tonight know that I’m on call if he needs me.”
“Will do, Boss.” Kendal flashed him a smile as he left the outer office and moved quickly along the hallway to the exit.
Minutes later he was in the Tahoe heading out of town toward the Winfred place. Teddy Winfred was eighty if he was a day. He didn’t venture out of his mobile home often and he didn’t like visitors. He’d damned near run Gene off with his cane when the deputy dropped by to question him after the Walker twins’ bodies had been found. He was also a close friend with Callie Walker.
Heading out to the Winfred place had put his plans to drop by Rogue’s apartment on hold though. The past two days had been hectic, for himself as well as Rogue as she worked at the restaurant well past closing. He’d picked her up after work and returned to her apartment with her where he stayed the night, but there was still an edge of tension between them that he hadn’t had time to deal with yet.
The appearance of her brother wasn’t going to help matters. He had a feeling John Walker was going to be more trouble than he was worth and definitely more than Zeke wanted to put up with at the moment.
If he was anything like his father, Calvin Walker, then he could become a hazard if he stayed in Somerset long. Calvin Walker had been a hellion when he was younger, more often in trouble than not, simply because he hadn’t known when to keep his nose out of others’ business. It hadn’t surprised Zeke at all that Walker had become a lawyer, and one in Boston nonetheless. Zeke bet he kept all the feathers ruffled there.
He grinned at the thought of it. He remembered Calvin, though the other man was a good decade and a half older than Zeke was. He also remembered how much his father and Gene’s had hated the other man.
James Maynard had been Thad Mayes’s deputy for several years when Thad had held the sheriff’s office. The two men had made it a point to harass Calvin as often as possible. They considered it a game, a way to feel superior. Thad hadn’t always run his office with any sense of justice. Unlike Zeke, he had seen it as a means to power, a way to keep others beneath him, and a way to ensure that he was accepted in the upper-class level of the county at the time.
Thad’s dreams hadn’t been Zeke’s, b
ut his father had drawn him into the dark underbelly of that life anyway. He wasn’t the county’s sheriff; he’d been Dayle Mackay’s sheriff, and what Dayle wanted, Dayle got. When Dayle had ordered Thad to prove Zeke’s loyalty to the League, Thad had done it in a way that had destroyed the boy Zeke had once been.
Blood stained his hands. It wasn’t innocent blood, but it was still murder. It was still a nightmare for the fourteen-year-old child he had been at the time. And it still held the potential to destroy him.
It had left a legacy that Zeke was still sometimes forced to fight. Through those years, Gene had always been a phone call away. A friend that knew the darkness and shared it with Zeke. For a while, Zeke had been certain that Gene had gotten out of the League. Recently though, Zeke had been forced to wonder if that were indeed true.
There were times Zeke wondered if Gene would ever be fully out from under his father’s thumb. There had been a time when Zeke had thought Gene was his own man; now, he wasn’t so sure of it.
Thoughts of Gene brought Jonesy to mind. Danny Jones was another wild card, and one who had been a part of Thad Mayes’s inner group of friends at one time. Danny “Jonesy” Jones had slipped out of that group when he had defended Calvin Walker against Thad Mayes and James Maynard. That had finished Jonesy’s friendship with Zeke’s and Gene’s fathers.
That information had come through the investigation the previous year. It was in the files his contact in Washington had finally gotten for him. Jonesy had once been rumored to be in the selection process for the League when he had learned what it was and how it would affect his friendships and his life. He’d chosen the friendships and had been targeted by Thad several times because of it.
It wasn’t surprising that when Rogue had found herself in trouble after arriving in Somerset, Jonesy had stepped in. And now that Rogue was involved with Zeke, Jonesy felt threatened, both personally and for Rogue. That didn’t excuse his treatment of her, and Zeke would never forget how Jonesy had bruised Rogue’s delicate arms. He didn’t trust the other man; there was something about his temper that bothered Zeke. It wasn’t just anger that drove Jonesy. There was something more. Something that had Zeke’s nerves on edge.
