by Leigh, Lora
He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind to consider later as he pulled into Teddy Winfred’s driveway.
The white single-wide mobile home sat peacefully within a small clearing surrounded by oak, pine, and dogwood trees. The yard was neatly cut, and old Teddy’s late-model Ford pickup was parked next to the mobile home.
Zeke parked the Tahoe, turned off the ignition, then moved from the truck and strode up the graveled driveway to the front door.
The door opened as he stepped onto the faded porch, and a grizzled Teddy Winfred met him with a wide smile on his wrinkled face. Teddy still possessed most of his natural teeth and didn’t mind bragging on them with his wide smiles.
“Teddy.” Zeke shook his hand. “Kendal said you called and asked me to drop by.”
“Come in. Come in.” Teddy’s smile flashed again as his faded hazel eyes sparkled with humor as he led the way into the scrupulously neat little home.
A threadbare couch and recliner sat in the living room, facing a wide-screen television. Zeke knew Teddy’s sons, one a minister in the county, the other a store owner, made certain their father was well taken care of. It was one of their biggest gripes that their father refused to give up his independence and move in with one of them.
“How are you doing, Teddy?” Zeke removed his hat as he took the seat Teddy waved to.
“I’m doing good, Zeke. Real good.” Teddy nodded his bald head before wiping a hand over it. “I heard about Callie, how she died and all. I got to thinking about those grandsons of hers and them dying. There’s word going around, you know, that they were murdered. That concerned me some.”
Zeke sat forward in the chair and watched the old man.
“Why did that concern you, Teddy?”
“Well, Zeke.” He rubbed his gnarled hands together before clasping them slowly. “Callie called me that morning. The morning she drowned.” His hazel eyes darkened with sadness. “She said she thought her grandsons had been murdered because of some girl they were seeing. She asked me if I knew who it was.”
“Why would you know who it was, Teddy?” Zeke asked.
Teddy sighed. “I always know when folks come and go up this road. And Joe and Jaime, they did a lot of fishing here behind the house in the creek. Sometimes, they’d be drinking and talking and their voices carried real good here.”
Zeke nodded encouragingly. “Did you hear something before they died?”
“Well, see, that’s the problem.” Teddy scratched his head thoughtfully. “I heard them the night before they were killed. They were drunk as skunks out back, laughing and cutting up. I opened the back door so I could hear better.” He grinned unapologetically.
“Old folks like to live vicariously through young, dumb kids like that, you know.”
“I can imagine, Teddy.” Zeke chuckled. “What did you hear Joe and Jaime talking about?”
“Well, they were talking about a girl. Joe said he was getting serious about her, and Jaime laughed, said if Joe was serious, then he would get serious, too.” Teddy shook his head. “Those two got into some wild games with the girls, you know?”
“I know.” Zeke nodded again.
Teddy shook his head and breathed out roughly. “I told Callie what I’d heard and she said she was going to call you. But when I got hold of her granddaughter the other day, she said she thought maybe Callie hadn’t had a chance to talk to you.”
“Callie didn’t have time to talk to me, Teddy,” he affirmed. “I wasn’t aware she was trying to contact me until after her death.”
Teddy’s eyes glittered with moisture then. “She was killed, wasn’t she, Sheriff? Because she was trying to figure out who killed those grandsons of hers.”
“I don’t know, Teddy. Until I find out who the boys were seeing and if she had anything to do with it, then I can’t say,” Zeke stated.
Teddy breathed out slowly before rubbing the side of his wrinkled face.
“What else did you hear the boys say that night, Teddy?” Zeke asked.
“Just between me and you, Zeke?” Teddy asked. “Callie was going to talk to you and she ended up drowning in her bathtub. I don’t want to drown in my bathtub.”
“I can understand that, Teddy.” He nodded. “This stays just between the two of us.”
Teddy nodded again. “I didn’t hear much, and that was what I told Callie. They were talking about being serious about this girl, and Joe said they’d have to be real careful for a while, because her daddy would kill them if he found out. They seemed to talk like they might be a little worried about that. Then Jaime said he had a way to take care of it. That he knew how to keep her daddy quiet. He told Joe he had information, that he knew that her daddy was a part of those men they were looking for last summer and that her daddy wouldn’t want anyone to know just how deep he was in that group. Now, I took it at first as just talk; you know how young boys get, and Joe and Jaime could be a little paranoid sometimes about stuff. But when I told Callie what was said, she went real quiet for a long time. And she says, ‘That was what I was afraid of, Teddy. That was what I was afraid of.’ And she hung the phone up then. Next I heard, she was dead.”
The girl’s father was a part of what happened last summer. Joe and Jaime had given the Mackay cousins and DHS information then that led to uncovering the identities of several citizens involved in the Freedom League.
“That’s all she said? She didn’t give you a name, Teddy?”
Teddy shook his head. “She didn’t say a name, Zeke. She hung up and that was the last time I talked to her.”
Zeke stared back at Teddy thoughtfully.
“And you think Callie figured out who it was from that information?” he asked.
Teddy sighed. “I just know what she said and how she said it. And I knew Callie. She knew something. And I think that something got her killed.”
Zeke was pretty damned certain it had. He considered the information Teddy had given him. There wasn’t a name to go on, but there was definitely information here that Timothy Cranston needed to know.
The suspended Homeland Security special agent could have information there that Zeke could use. Zeke knew there were files that the DHS agent had on suspected homeland terrorists, though Zeke hadn’t been given the privilege of going through those files.
“Did you hear anything else, Teddy?” Zeke asked.
Teddy shook his head. “Nothing about the girl they were seeing. They started talking about being thrown out of their cousin’s bar. Said Rogue had a mean knee.” Teddy’s gaze lightened with a hint of laughter then. “Jonesy taught her how to use that knee, I hear. Jonesy used to be a hell of a fighter.”
“That’s what I’ve heard.” Zeke nodded, moving to rise to his feet.
“You know your dad and Jonesy used to be good friends,” Teddy said.
“I know that.” Zeke nodded.
“Yeah.” Teddy rubbed his hands together slowly. “Jonesy, James, and Thad, they were all real tight at one time. Until your dad started hooking up with that Dayle Mackay. Jonesy never could get along with Dayle, you know?”
“I didn’t know that, Teddy.”
Teddy nodded. “Your dad was a good man when he was younger, until he hooked up with Dayle.” Teddy grimaced soberly. “He changed. But I guess all men change when they grow older in some ways. Some for the better, some for the worse, huh?”
“So it would seem, Teddy,” Zeke answered. “So it would seem.”
Teddy nodded again before wiping his hand over his jaw. “You had a good mother though. She loved you like crazy. She was always taking those pictures of you and your dad. Everywhere she went she took pictures. Memories, she called them.” He grinned at that. “She used to say they were her memories, and when she was old they would serve her good. I saw her once when I was hunting, taking pictures in the mountains by herself. Your daddy and some friends were fishing out by the old cabin he kept. She didn’t see me. She was taking pictures of your dad and you, I guess. There were a l
ot of folks there. She liked her pictures.”
Zeke tensed. Memories flashed in his mind, comments his mother used to make, arguments she’d had with his dad. And one odd comment that stuck in his brain and shot adrenaline through his body.
His mother and her damned pictures. Her insurance, she had told his father when Zeke had been twelve, maybe thirteen. It was her insurance and if Thad was smart he’d save his own insurance. And he knew where his mother had hid her insurance. Son of a bitch, all these years, time spent investigating, searching, and the proof he needed could have been right under his nose all this time.
TWENTY
Rogue watched her brother warily as he prowled the living and kitchen area of her spacious apartment. He made the walls shrink in the once-airy rooms. Pacing like a caged tiger, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he had started growling at her.
“You know, Mom and Dad are not going to be pleased.” He threw her a fulminating glare as he turned and faced her from the other side of the couch. “Why the hell do you think I showed up? Dad is within days of arriving, Caitlyn. He’s not happy over this situation.”
“He’ll have to live with it.” She shrugged. “It’s no more his business than it is yours.”
She didn’t need family interference right now. She’d managed to keep her father off her back for the past five years by putting up with Jonesy, which she had considered the lesser of two evils. Now, she had her brother here looking for all the world like a younger version of her father, albeit with blond hair rather than her father’s red gold.
“Dad is not just going to live with it, Cait,” he warned her.
“Rogue,” she corrected him. She’d lost count of the times she had corrected him. He just threw her another glare, just as he had each time she had reminded him before.
“Look, just come back to Boston for a few weeks.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared back at her as though that look alone would get him his way.
Rogue almost smiled. Why was it that men thought all they had to do was cross their arms over their chests and stare back at a woman with determined eyes to get their way? It didn’t work on her.
“And do what?” She grinned. “Are you going to take me out with you at night and make certain I’m entertained?”
His expression didn’t change.
“Of course you aren’t,” she answered her own question with a mocking edge of humor. “And Mom and Dad have their things to do. That leaves poor little Rogue sitting in the corner to stare at the walls.”
“Caitlyn,” he growled her name. “Your name is Caitlyn. Son of a bitch, you’ve had four years, Cait. You’ve had plenty of time to get back at the bastards that hurt you. Now it’s time to come home.”
She stared at him in surprise, and she admitted a bit of anger. She would have thought that her brother would have known better than to believe she had stayed in Somerset for such a paltry reason.
“You think the only reason I stay here is because I want to get back at someone?” She felt like pulling at her hair. She hated dealing with her brother, or her father, when they got something into their head. They didn’t let up until they got their way, and Rogue wasn’t of the mind to give in to them.
“That’s exactly why you stay,” he bit out harshly. “Tell me what else you have. Family? Friends? You didn’t even make friends outside the damned bar until last year.”
“So? I have friends now.” She shrugged as she adjusted the hem of her T-shirt over the band of her jeans. “I have a business, a job, and a sheriff.” She winked suggestively as she watched him flush angrily. She hadn’t said the word lover, it hovered there in the air between them, infuriating his brotherly sensibilities.
“Caitlyn …”
“Rogue,” she injected softly. She was getting tired of reminding him.
He grimaced. “Even I know Sheriff Mayes’s reputation with women. He’s not a relationship kind of guy and you know it. He’s going to break your heart.”
Rogue pushed her hands into her back pockets and gave him a tight smile, warning herself to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t want to fight with her brother. It had been too long since she had seen him. She’d let him bitch a little, then maybe take him down to the bar and let him have a drink or two. Maybe a beer would chill him out a little.
“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” he accused her, a hint of anger entering his voice.
“Should I be?” Rogue arched her brows as she pulled her hands from her pockets and turned away from him to grab her apartment keys and cell phone from the kitchen table. “Let’s go down to the bar. I need to check a few things out and you need a beer.”
“I don’t need a damned beer.” His violet gaze hardened as he stared back at her. “I’ll help you pack instead.”
Her lips quirked. “You can come downstairs for a beer, or you can find yourself a hotel room for the night first. But packing isn’t something we’ll do.”
His lips thinned. “You have a spare bedroom here; why should I have to find a hotel room?”
“Because you aren’t staying here,” she informed him as she moved for the door.
“Because your sheriff stays here?” he forced out between clenched teeth.
“Pretty much.” She shrugged mockingly. “I prefer not to have my brother in the next room while I’m sleeping with my lover. It just smacks of tacky.”
His hands plowed through his hair. Anger marked his face and glittered in his eyes as she strolled past him.
“Come on, John.” Opening the door, she stared back at him warningly. “I’m not in the mood to fight with you, and you don’t want to push it. Let’s go downstairs and have a beer and chill out. You can go back home tomorrow and tell Daddy I’m just as stubborn as I ever was and you can go on about your business.”
“You think all it takes is telling Dad that you’re being stubborn, don’t you, Rogue?”
“That’s all it took before.” She moved for the stairs. “I’m a big girl, John. I really can make these decisions all by myself.”
She heard him follow behind her, the door closing before she started down the stairs. Music drifted up the stairs, clashing and wild as a popular classic rock tune thundered out onto the dance floor and beyond.
“You like to think you’re a big girl,” he snorted behind her. “A half-pint wishing is more like it.”
She grinned at the comment. A half-pint wishing, that was one of her father’s ways of telling her she was too small and delicate to do the things she normally did. It was usually in reference to another fight she had been involved in, or when she went nose to nose with Jonesy over something he ended up tattling over.
Pushing through the door that led to the main customer area of the bar, she let a grin tilt her lips. It was going to be hard at first to step away from the home she had taken over four years ago. The bar had been her rebellion, and she had done a damned good job of rebelling in it. Maybe she had grown up a bit over the years though. The bar wasn’t as important as it had been, or maybe she was tired of rebelling. Either way, she knew her time there was limited.
Moving behind the long counter, she drew her brother a draft beer before pulling a chilled bottle of her favorite brand from beneath the counter. Her gaze went over the bartenders’ activity, from Jonesy at the register as he made a point to ignore her, to Kent as he filled orders quickly and efficiently.
“You know, you should move to Somerset.” She grinned at her brother’s look of horror. “Just think, you could escape that stuffy lifestyle you’ve adopted for yourself and have some real fun. I’d even let you take over the bar.”
She leaned a hip against the counter as she stared out over the dance floor before swinging her gaze back to her brother.
“You’re joking.” He grimaced as he glared at her.
“Not in the least,” she assured him, raising her voice to be heard over the din. “I like working with Janey, John. I want to spend more time at the restaurant rather than here.
You’d do well here.”
Come to think of it, her brother would fit in here, she thought. He’d been discontent for years at her father’s law firm. Where her sister seemed to fit in fine, John and her father clashed constantly.
“You’ve lost your mind.” He turned his back on her as though she weren’t worth listening to any longer.
Rogue grinned; she knew her brother, and he wasn’t as disinterested as he wanted to pretend. His body was tense, a frown was brewing at his forehead—proof that he was at least considering her suggestion.
Shaking her head at him she finished her beer before disposing of the bottle and making her rounds of the bar.
She greeted regulars, chatted with visitors, and picked out tourists from among those just passing through on their way to other locations. She laughed and made certain the waitresses kept the drinks flowing. And through it all she kept her eye on the door, watching for one figure, one man.
“Hey, Rogue.”
She turned at the pat on her shoulder.
“Gene, how are you doing?” She shot the deputy a quick smile as he looked around the bar.
“Seen Zeke this evening yet?” he asked as he looked around the bar, his ruddy face creasing into a frown.
“Not yet.” She kept her smile relaxed, kept the worry out of her expression. “He usually shows up before the night’s over.”
“I thought you’d be at the restaurant tonight?”
She looked around the bar as she shook her head. “I’ve had some things to take care of, so I took tonight off.”
“Things like your brother?” His grin was slow and easy. “Talk is already making rounds that another Boston Walker is in town. I hear he’s a hell of a lawyer.”
Gene’s voice lifted to carry over the music, making it loud enough for those standing and sitting around them to hear their conversation clearly. Rogue was aware of the interest they were generating; it would have been impossible to miss.
“John is definitely one hell of a lawyer. If you’d like to chat with him, he’s over at the bar.” She nodded toward John’s location. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a few things I need to check on.”
