As I watched him get into his car and drive off, one thought kept circling through my head.
What in tarnation had I just agreed to?
“Do you need help with Joe?” Neely Kate asked.
“No,” I said quietly as I headed for the porch stairs. “I think I need to do this alone.”
She placed her hand on my upper arm as I passed. “If you change your mind, just let me know. We’ll be waitin’ out here.”
I gave her a smile as I covered her hand with my own. “Thanks.”
Joe was in the living room, pacing the floor. He’d obviously known we were up to something, and he stopped his carrying-on as I walked in.
“Tim Dermot was here,” he said. “Is there trouble?”
I gave him a half smile. “Isn’t there always?” When he didn’t return the smile, I headed to the sofa. “We need to talk.”
His eyes widened slightly, and he swallowed before settling into an overstuffed chair. “What’s goin’ on, Rose?”
I took a breath. “I feel like you and I have come a long way. I’m over hidin’ everything from you, but I don’t want to get you in trouble by sayin’ too much.”
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his legs. “Rose, if you’re in trouble, I don’t want you to hide anything.”
“I’m not in immediate trouble,” I said. “But Dermot thinks it’s comin’. How soon, I can’t say, but I’m guessin’ sooner rather than later.”
“Malcolm?” he asked in a tight voice.
“No. The Hardshaw Group.”
His face lost all color. “How the hell did you get mixed up with them, Rose?”
“I didn’t,” I assured him. “But Dermot has reason to believe they’ll come after me when they finally march into town.”
“Why?”
“James.”
His eyes darkened. “I’m gonna find a way to haul his ass to prison so he never sees the light of day again. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll flat-out kill him.”
Fear squeezed my heart for both men—because despite all the evidence piling up against James, I still loved him.
“You hush,” I said softly. “You’ll do no such thing. This baby needs you.”
He sat up, his eyes widening in surprise. “You’ve made a decision?”
I cringed, realizing what I’d said. “No, not yet. I’m sorry.”
“No,” he said, “don’t be sorry. I didn’t expect you to come to a decision yet, especially with everything else goin’ on.”
“No matter what my decision is, I want you to be part of this baby’s life, Joe. Even if you’re not the baby’s daddy, I want you to be Uncle Joe.”
A grim look filled his eyes. “You don’t even owe me that, Rose.”
“I know,” I said, “but I’ve seen you with Ashley and Mikey. They love you, and I want my baby to have as much goodness as possible in his or her life. So no more talk about doin’ things that could get you killed or incarcerated. Okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”
I released a breath of relief. “I have to go to a meeting, and I can’t tell you anything about it. It’s not because I don’t trust you—it’s because I’m protecting you. Can you accept that?”
He studied me for a long moment. “Yeah. I can accept that.”
I couldn’t keep the shock from my face.
“I know,” he said with a grin that faded just as quickly as it had appeared. “I guess we’ve both come a long way. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I will.”
“Then go do what you need to do to protect yourself and your baby.”
AN HOUR LATER, I climbed into the back seat of Tim Dermot’s car. Jed sat in the front passenger seat and Neely Kate was in the back with me.
I lived on the northern end of the county, and everything of importance seemed to happen south of me, so I was confused when Dermot headed due west.
“Are we goin’ to Lafayette County?” I asked.
“No,” Dermot said, sounding grave. “We’re goin’ to my land.”
“I didn’t know you had land.” I realized there was a lot I didn’t know about him.
I suspected that was about to change.
Everything was about to change.
Fifteen minutes later, Dermot turned onto a private road leading into a tract of farmland. Two armed men were posted on either side of the road before a grove of trees. When they saw Dermot, they waved us through.
As we cleared the trees, light flared at us. Multiple metal trash cans had been spread around an open area, roaring fires burning in each one, but that wasn’t the only source of light. Dozens of cars and trucks were parked around the edges of the circular clearing, their headlights pointed inward, and a large group of men stood in the middle.
Dermot slowed down and began to circle around the cars, toward the rear of the gathering.
I sucked in a breath, terrified out of my mind. “I can’t do this,” I said under my breath.
Neely Kate grabbed my hand and squeezed.
“Yes, you can,” Jed said in a stern voice. “I’ve seen you do this more times than I can count.”
“There’s so many of them,” I said. “There must be over fifty men and women here.”
“Try seventy,” Dermot said. “My men have been givin’ me updates.”
“Why’d they come?” I asked.
“I won’t blow sunshine up your ass,” Dermot said as he reached the back of the assemblage and came to a stop. “Not all of them are here to pledge themselves to you. Some are just curious. I’m sure a few are here to get a report to Skeeter. But this is your chance to win them all.”
What in the world was I going to say? Did I even want this?
It might be my only way to live safely in Fenton County.
Both men got out of the car, and Dermot walked around the trunk while Jed opened my door.
It was showtime.
There was a chill in the air, but Jed had agreed with Dermot that it was important that I dress the part, especially tonight, so I’d worn a slinky black dress with long black sleeves and a plunging neckline that seemed to be rounded out with a little more cleavage than usual. Jed had insisted I wear the heels too, which would be a pain in the butt in the field after the recent rainfall. Thankfully, several pieces of particleboard had been set out for me to walk on.
I got out and the roar of conversation cut off, leaving dead silence as I walked to a small two-foot-tall platform that looked to have been constructed out of more particleboard. I was shorter than most of the men here, so it stood to reason I needed to be higher, not to mention I’d been Lady long enough to know small details mattered. They’d be forced to look up to me now. Not down.
Additional metal bins blazing with fire surrounded the platform, providing some heat and deep shadows, but I shivered for another reason. I was afraid, but if I allowed them to see that, this would be over before it started.
Dermot stepped up first, heading to the center of the approximately ten-foot-wide and six-foot-deep platform, while Jed gave me his hand to help me up with the ridiculous heels. Neely Kate stayed on the ground behind us, and to my surprise, several men stood in front of the stage, facing the crowd. I recognized some as Dermot’s men, but I knew two of them personally—Witt and Marshall, both taking their sentry positions seriously.
My first thought was horror that so many men and about a dozen women considered themselves outside the law, but then I saw Gerard standing toward the back of the group along with his four sons, and I realized some of them weren’t necessarily outright criminals. Instead, these were folk who skirted the law.
“There’s a war on the horizon,” Dermot called out, the only other sound the flicker of the flames surrounding us. “The Hardshaw Group from Dallas has been makin’ a play for Fenton County right under our noses, and Malcolm’s workin’ right alongside ’em.”
“Where’s your proof?” a voice called out.
Jed stepped forward. “Y�
�all know that I was Skeeter’s right-hand man.”
“You turned traitor!” another voice shouted.
“Traitor?” Jed said, his voice booming in the night. “I worked with that man for fourteen years and he had more secrets than a spook. He worked with J.R. Simmons since the moment he came back to town over a decade ago, doin’ the man’s biddin’, and never shared a word of it with me.”
The raw pain in his voice sunk into me. I wasn’t the only one James had hurt with his lies.
“That’s his right!” another man called out.
“Yeah,” Jed said in disgust. “It’s his right to keep things from the men beneath him, but I was like a brother to him, or so I thought. He turned on me time and time again. He’s been workin’ with Hardshaw for three years! Under my nose! Under all y’all’s noses too! What do you think’s gonna happen when they get here?”
“You only care because they’re after your girlfriend!” someone shouted.
“Y’all are gonna care when they move in,” Dermot threw back. “I don’t need to remind you of what they did in Henry County.”
I had no idea what they’d done in Henry County, but if what Jed had warned me about was even close to true, I knew we had to stop them. The rumbling in the crowd suggested they agreed.
“Maybe Malcolm’s workin’ out a deal with ’em,” a man said from the front of the crowd. I recognized him from the group Jonah had run for recently released cons—Lars Jenkins. He was not someone to mess with.
I reminded myself that this crowd was full of savage men. Some were guys like Witt and Bruce Wayne or even James’s brother, Scooter, struggling to find their way in this world and doing illegal things to make ends meet. But others were like Lars Jenkins—self-centered and cruel. Men like that would never listen to me. They’d never assent to mediation with words instead of guns. Dermot and Jed were crazy to think this would work.
It struck me that we were going about this all wrong. Here I stood in the back, while the two of them worked the crowd. This wasn’t a position of strength. If I didn’t do something quick, things were about to head south.
“Skeeter Malcolm’s not workin’ out a deal with them for you,” Jed said. “He’s in this for himself.”
“He’s thinnin’ out his inner circle,” I said out loud before I could second-guess myself.
All eyes turned to me.
I took several steps forward. “How often does that happen? When a man steps into power, he pulls it closer. He doesn’t clean his loyal people out. He’s up to something.”
“Did you find this out when he had you on your back?” a man I didn’t recognize asked with an ugly laugh.
I searched out the crowd until I found the heckler. “You.” I held his gaze. “What’s your name?”
He gave me a defiant glare. “What’s it to you? You lookin’ for a new sugar daddy? ’Cause that’s one job I’d be happy to apply for.”
I felt Jed tense beside me, but he knew me well enough to let me handle it on my own.
I gave the heckler my deadliest stare, and asked no one in particular, “What’s his name?”
“Tilmont,” Brox called out, moving toward the middle of the crowd. “Andrew Tilmont.”
I gave him a slight nod but kept my icy gaze on Tilmont. “Sugar daddy? From the looks of you, you haven’t got two wooden nickels to rub together to make a fire.”
Tilmont shot me a deadly glare.
“You don’t have to like me, Mr. Tilmont, and I assure you the feelin’ will be mutual, but if you’re here at this meeting”—I jabbed my index finger toward the stage—“discussin’ the future of your dick while the grownups are discussin’ the future of our county, then perhaps you need to go back to the kiddie table.” I pointed to the back corner where several teens had formed a cluster.
Several men chuckled, and while Tilmont looked furious, I noticed a growing number of men were now giving me their undivided attention.
“I haven’t been in this world long, but one thing that has stood out to me from the beginning is the loyalty y’all show to one another.” I shook my head. “But I was doubly surprised by the disloyalty. While all y’all have been running around the county switchin’ sides and wreakin’ havoc with little regard to what was goin’ on around you, the enemy’s been movin’ in like an army of fire ants. Y’all need to stop foolin’ around and take this seriously!”
“What do you expect us to do?” someone yelled.
“For one thing, start payin’ attention to what’s goin’ on. Skeeter fired Jed Carlisle back in July—his right-hand man for half his life, if you count when they were kids. Why would he do that?”
Even as I asked the question of them, I asked it of myself. He claimed he was protecting us and I’d believed him, but what if he hadn’t wanted the opposition?
From Jed. Or from me.
“Skeeter’s been up to something for at least a year,” Jed said. “More like two. He’d disappear for days at a time, and after the J.R. Simmons deal, I figured that was the reason why. But he’s still doin’ it, so where’s he goin’?” Jed paused and scanned the crowd. “What man in charge shuts out his second? His loyal second? I’ll tell you who—someone up to no good.”
A few men began to voice their agreement.
“I know for a God-given fact that two of the men in his new inner circle worked with Hardshaw as recently as six months ago.”
“You were his second,” someone called out. “You’re a traitor for turnin’ on him.”
“I didn’t turn on him,” Jed said in disgust. “He shut me out until he outright fired me. He won’t even take my calls. I gave him my life, and he tossed me out like garbage,” he said. “So which one of us is the traitor?”
More men murmured their agreement.
“Why’s Lady here?” another man called out.
“Yeah!” someone shouted. “Why’s she here?”
“Because she can unite us,” Dermot said, stepping forward as Jed stepped back as though they were orchestrating a tag team wrestling match.
He let the men voice their protests before he lifted his hands. “How many of you met Lady last winter?”
A few men shouted that they had.
“How many have heard of her?”
A lot more men spoke up.
“And what did you hear?” Dermot asked.
“That she’s a haughty bitch,” a man called out, and I recognized him from one of James’s meetings from last winter.
“Bear Stevens,” I called out, surprised to see him. Not because he was turning against James, but because he’d been a problem for James—one James had told me he’d resolved. I was relieved to know Bear hadn’t been killed. The sight of him added a niggle of doubt, but it was too late to turn back now. “Fancy meetin’ you here.”
“You’re a liar,” he spat with a look of disgust. “You pretended to be some highfalutin bitch from Louisiana, but you’re no better than the rest of us.”
“You’re right,” I agreed in a direct tone. “I misled you about who I really was, but I’m here now as myself, and I’m the same person you met at Skeeter’s table and in his office.”
“Pretendin’ to be someone you’re not. How do we know you’re not tryin’ to hoodwink us now?”
“I guess you can’t,” I said. “It was Skeeter’s story about who I was, not mine, but I’m not sorry I played along. I was trying to protect the man I loved the only way I knew how.” I scanned their faces. “How many of you would do the same for someone important to you?”
A murmur went through the crowd.
“I hear you’re pregnant with Simmons’s baby,” a man shouted. “Does he know you’re here?”
“No,” I said. “He doesn’t, but it doesn’t matter because he doesn’t own me. No man does.”
“Not even Skeeter Malcolm?” someone called out.
My back stiffened. “Especially not him.”
“Go back to the kitchen!” a man shouted, waving a beer can. He turned
to the men next to him, as though waiting for an atta boy, but they wisely kept silent.
“You think my place is in the kitchen?” I demanded. “Where the hell were you when J.R. Simmons was tryin’ to take over our county? Huh?” I glanced around the crowd and trained my gaze on the guy with the beer can. “I sure as hell wasn’t in the kitchen. I was savin’ your sorry ass.”
A murmur went through the crowd. “I became the Lady in Black to save my boyfriend, and I won’t lie to you now,” I said, my temper rising. “My baby is a motivating factor. If I went to those lengths to save a man who cut me loose as soon as he found out I’d dirtied myself with the Fenton County underground, just imagine what I’ll do to protect my baby. To protect your children. I will move heaven and earth to save them all, and I won’t apologize for it either.”
A soft rumbling reverberated through the crowed, and then someone asked, “And that makes you qualified to rule us?”
I didn’t want it, not like that, and there was no doubt that I was far from qualified. Good thing I didn’t want to rule them—I only wanted to help them police themselves.
“Answer me this. We live in a democracy, so why is someone rulin’ you at all?”
Jed shot me a dark look. He was trying to make me the queen of the county, and this line of reasoning was counterproductive to his aim. But I had to help him, and everyone else, envision a different type of leadership.
“What are you talkin’ about?” a man close to the front asked. “Everyone for themselves?”
“Has that worked for you before?” I asked.
“We’ve never done it before.”
“And do you think it would work?” I asked. “You have your own territories. Your own turf. What happens when someone gets greedy and tries to take what someone else has claimed? Sounds like the Wild West to me.”
“Then what do you propose?” Bear asked.
“I’ve acted as a mediator in the past, and I’d like to do the same in the future. I settled a dispute between Skeeter Malcolm and Buck Reynolds with a parley. I stopped an all-out war between them over the kidnapping of Skeeter’s brother.”
“You want to be like King Solomon,” Gerard Collard said, moving forward.
Come Rain or Shine: Rose Gardner Investigations #5 (Rose Gardner Investigatons) Page 30
