Mississippi King

by Celia Aaron

  “Yes.”

  “How did she sound?”

  “Fine.” She blinked, clearly not keen to offer any more information.

  “Did she say anything to you? Did you know why she was calling?” Benton coaxed.

  “She sounded normal. I put her straight through to his phone. He was still talking to her when I left. The light was lit up on my phone.”

  I made a note to check Letty’s call log, though Logan had probably already gotten to that at the scene. “Is there anything else you haven’t told me? Anything at all that has to do with Randall King and possible enemies or problems?”

  “That’s all I can think of.”

  “Who came to see Randall last week? Anyone stick out in your mind?”

  “Just the usual clients. No one I didn’t know.” She wrung her hands. “The mayor and Judge Ingles both stopped by on Tuesday for an hour or two—all three of them shut up in Mr. King’s office. I think it was an appointment to talk about some sort of tax law issue with that new hamburger place on the square.”

  “The mayor or the judge owns that?” I jotted down another note.

  “I’m not sure which, to be honest. I tried to eat there once. After a night spent on my knees in my bathroom, I’ve stayed away. Sad what it’s become, really. When I was a kid, that place was a fancy makeup shop.”

  “It closed when I was in high school. I remember.” My mother had taken me in there one time so she could buy a lipstick. The sales staff had treated us like trash. In Azalea, everyone knew what side of town you were from, who your parents were, and likely what days the garbage ran on your street.

  Margaret nodded at me. “Right, and then the place was abandoned till someone bought it a few years back. Spent a potful of money to get the burger place going. Shame.”

  “Okay, so other than those people, who came to see Mr. King? Anyone unusual?”

  “Not that I recall. Other than maybe…” She pressed her lips together.

  “Other than who, Margaret?” Benton urged.

  “Other than, well…” She shot me another look, then took a deep breath. “Chief Garvey.”

  14

  Benton

  We sat at the counter of Shady’s Diner, the familiar sizzle of the griddle and the scent of greasy cooking swirling through the air. Arabella stared at her notes, the words written in clean block letters, as June took our orders. Arabella had argued with me about getting lunch at all, but I was beginning to flag, and she didn’t look much better. I needed somewhere to sit and think. It seemed I wasn’t the only one, as Arabella had been studying her notebook from the moment we sat down.

  “Things aren’t connecting.” She pressed her pen to each bullet point. “Not in a way that makes sense, anyway. Did your father’s new lover kill both he and Letty Cline in some sort of jealous rage or a revenge plot? I don’t think so. The murders were too far apart. These were methodical executions, not crimes of passion. Why would Chief Garvey visit your dad? And what’s with the—” She cut herself off and glanced over at me. “Sorry. I guess I’m just used to talking things out with Logan.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I’ve been thinking the same things. Trying to figure out the thread that links the two of them besides the obvious.” I’d jumped to a million conclusions as we left Margaret’s house. None of them even remotely made sense. A niggling feeling tickled the back of my mind. I should have told Arabella my suspicion that a file was missing from the firm. But what good would that do if I didn’t know what file it was? Not to mention, I wanted to find it first.

  I poured some sugar into my cup and handed the container to her. “I suppose we have an appointment with Judge Ingles today?”

  “Yeah, I had to push it back because of Letty.” She added sugar and cream to her cup. “But we can go straight to the courthouse after lunch. Get in the ring for a few rounds. See who gets the TKO or the warrant. Whichever.” The fatigue in her voice made me want to give in, to let her win this one. But I couldn’t. I’d meant what I’d said about keeping my clients’ information private if at all possible. That’s what Dad would have done. At least that’s what the Randall King I thought I knew would have done.

  “And then I have a few more people to talk to.” She meant Garvey. I would have pressed to go with her if I didn’t know it would have been futile. No way was she going to let me sit in on that conversation.

  Instead of kicking that wound, I cleared my throat and changed the subject. “So, Logan.”

  She gave me a quizzical expression. “Was that a question?”

  “I was just wondering why he’s so, you know…possessive of you.”

  “Possessive?” She shook her head. “It’s not like that.”

  “Seems like it.”

  “I’m not discussing this with you.” She took a big gulp of her coffee.

  “I think if your husband saw the way he looks at you, he’d take issue.”

  She set her coffee down, the saucer clattering. “You don’t know me. And that’s none of your business.”

  The warning tone didn’t stop me, even though it should have. “I’m just pointing out the obvious. Logan clearly has a thing for you, and—”

  Her phone rang, and she answered quickly, though the storm clouds that had gathered in her eyes remained. I couldn’t hear anything over the low hum of customers talking in the booths along the windowed wall plus the kitchen noise, so I drank my coffee slowly. Whoever was on the other end of the line seemed to do all the talking, because Arabella only got in a few affirmations here and there.

  I replayed my words over again in my mind. What the hell was wrong with me? I had no right to say a word to her about Logan—or about her life, really. I didn’t know her. The fact that I wanted to didn’t justify anything.

  When she hung up, I spoke before she had a chance to. “I’m sorry.”

  Her eyebrows shot up.

  “Seriously. That was out of line, and I apologize. I guess I’m just not dealing with all this very well, but that’s no excuse for me to act like an unmitigated ass. So, I apologize.”

  The tension in her ebbed, and she gave me a slight quirk of her lips. “‘Unmitigated ass’. I like that. I’ll have to use it sometime.”

  I smiled. She had that effect on me. Or maybe I was still out of my mind with grief and shock. It was all a wash at that point.

  “Look.” She stirred her mashed potatoes and gravy. “Just so you know—even though it’s none of your business—” I couldn’t tell if she was reproaching me or herself, but she continued, “I’m not married. I live with my mom and my little girl, Vivienne. Logan is like a brother to me and an uncle to Vivi.”

  “So Vivi’s father…”

  She took a big bite of country-fried steak and washed it down with the coffee. “Long gone.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It is what it is.” She shrugged. “Dale was never meant to be a father, a husband, or anything like that. Depending on him was impossible. But I was too foolish to see that at first. It all became crystal clear when Vivi was born. Dale went on a bender for weeks. He stopped by the house once afterwards, gathered his things, and left. Haven’t seen him since.”

  “Shit.” I hesitated, but then reached over and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze before letting go. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  She glanced at her hand where I’d touched her, then said, “Why? Worried you’d dampen our jovial mood?”

  I had to smile at that. “Gallows humor. Always in fashion.”

  We ate in silence for a while—me, contemplating her single motherhood, and her, probably thinking what an ass I was.

  I broke the awkward impasse. “Who called?”

  “Pauline, the forensics doc.”

  “She find anything?” I didn’t particularly want to hear any grisly details, but if it would help us solve the case, I was all for it.

  “Nothing other than it looks like Letty was killed late last night, early this morning. Everyth
ing was consistent with what happened to your father. Except, of course, the business card in her—”

  “Excuse me, can I get this to-go?” A man stood at the end of the bar, his accent jarring against the southern lilts all around. If Arabella had antennae, they’d be pointing straight toward him.

  He glanced at us, and I was struck by his light eyes that verged on creepy. Blond hair, thin build, sallow skin—he could have been terminally ill or just cursed with bad genes. One thing was for certain, his Jersey accent didn’t mesh. Usually, it wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow, but with two murders in town and no answers…Arabella had zeroed in on him.

  June delivered the man’s coffee and made change for him. Arabella began to rise from her seat, her food forgotten. “Excuse me, sir. I’m—”

  Her phone rang again. She pulled it from her pocket, cursed, and answered it. The man took his coffee from June and walked away as if Arabella hadn’t spoken to him.

  I tossed a ten down for June and walked toward the man’s retreating back.

  Arabella gasped and grabbed my arm. “You’re shitting me!”

  The wail of a siren cut through the diner sounds, and the man disappeared out the door. My stomach lurched as Arabella stared up at me, her eyes wide. Something was wrong. Bad wrong.

  “What?” I sent up a silent prayer that Charlotte and Porter were all right.

  “Let’s go.” She dashed toward the door and pocketed her phone.

  “What’s wrong?” I followed.

  “Your law firm’s on fire!”

  15

  Arabella

  We pulled up as the fire department sprayed the building, the flames already shooting through the windows and licking the siding.

  Benton jumped from the car and dashed across the lawn.

  “Hey!” I chased him and grabbed a handful of the back of his polo. “It’s too late!” The inferno put off enough heat to singe, and deep cracking noises inside didn’t bode well for the structure.

  He let me pull him backwards until we stood at the curb, the firemen spraying sheets of water that created rainbows above the rampaging flames. He sank to his knees in the grass as Logan hurried over to me from his cruiser.

  “Fucking hell.” Logan stared at the inferno as the fire chief yelled instructions at his crew.

  “I don’t think this is a coincidence. None of it is.” The heat came in waves as black smoke rose in a plume overhead. “Someone set this fire.”

  “The killer?” Logan shielded his eyes.

  “Maybe. But it seems like they would’ve torched the place when they killed Randall King. Why wait?”

  “Good question. I’ll find out if they know anything.” He struck off toward the fire chief.

  I knelt beside Benton. “Hey.”

  He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the firm, the ferns on the front porch wilted and sizzling.

  “Hey.” I took his hand in mine. It wasn’t professional, but it was what he needed.

  He blinked and turned to me. “It’s gone. First Dad and then…”

  “I know.” I wanted to hug him, to do something that would erase the anguish that radiated from him like the heat from the fire. Instead, I gave his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

  He linked his fingers through mine, an intimate touch that I didn’t expect. “We’re going to find out all the secrets. All the lies.”

  Porter’s SUV rolled up behind us, and Charlotte jumped out of the passenger side and rushed over to Benton. “You weren’t inside, were you?” She checked his face, then her eyes darted to where our hands were joined.

  “No.” He stared at the firm as a chunk of roof collapsed.

  I pulled my hand away and stepped back.

  “How?” Porter stood next to Benton, the last of the Kings all watching as their namesake burned to the ground.

  Logan hurried toward us, a grim look on his face. “Arson. The chief would put money on it. We won’t know for sure until the fire burns out, but he said the pattern of the burn was irregular to the point that he thinks someone doused the inside with gas before striking a match.”

  “So much for the warrant on the files.” I put my hands on my hips and let my head loll back on my shoulders. “Shit.”

  A thunderous shudder shook the building as an even bigger chunk of the roof collapsed and sent sparks cascading upward.

  Logan grabbed my elbow. “Move back. It’s not safe.”

  Benton got to his feet, and he, Charlotte, and Porter followed us to the other side of the road. A few cars had stopped on either side, their occupants taking pictures of the fire or filming it with their phones. Waiting for the place to burn down wasn’t getting us anywhere, and my frustration was building with each second I spent chasing my tail. I grabbed my keys and turned toward my cruiser.

  “Where you headed?” Logan turned to me.

  “I’m going to the courthouse. I saw Letty there yesterday. I want to know what she was doing.”

  “I’ll come with you.” Logan started toward my passenger side at the same time as Benton, both men almost bumping into each other.

  “I’ll go.” Benton looked down his nose at Logan in that maddening way of his.

  “I don’t think so.” Logan launched himself at my hood, sliding across the front corner and landing on the passenger side. He gave Benton a triumphant smirk.

  I didn’t have time for their pissing contest. Before I closed my door and started the engine, Benton barked at Porter to take him to the courthouse.

  All three Kings loaded into the sheriff’s SUV as Logan gave me an eye roll. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a new puppy.”

  I weaved through the cars and gawkers along the road. “Don’t be an ass.”

  “I’m just calling it like I see it. He can’t take his eyes off you. Not even when his precious law firm is turning to cinders.”

  I sighed and headed toward the square, the sheriff’s cruiser right behind me. A subject change was in order. “Please tell me you’ve gone out to Millie Lagner’s place.”

  He scratched his jaw. “Not yet.”

  I slapped my hand on the steering wheel. “Chief is going to chew my ass over the fire and the okra. Not good, Logan.”

  “You couldn’t have stopped the fire.”

  “I should have had Brody staking out the place instead of watching over the Kings.” Hindsight always had a way of biting me right in the ass.

  “Limited resources, Arabella. You had to choose between protecting people or protecting a building. You made the right call.”

  “I’m not so sure.” Not when the biggest pile of evidence I had was now smoldering into ash. “When we’re done at the courthouse, I want you to canvas all the businesses around the firm. Someone had to have seen something. It was broad daylight. Then pull the video from Sal’s Gas Mart. It’s the closest station. If someone used gas, they might be on the surveillance cam filling up some containers.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He pulled out his phone and dialed Sal as I parked in front of the courthouse. While he directed Sal to pull the recordings, I hurried up the front steps and into the main entrance. I waved at the security guard when the metal detector pinged as I walked through, then turned toward Judge Ingles’ office. I’d seen Letty on his hallway, and it was a good bet that she’d been visiting him.

  “Wait up.” Logan fell into step beside me. “Sal should have the tapes ready for me when I get there.”

  “Good.”

  More footsteps behind us told me the Kings had arrived.

  I turned and held up a hand. “I’ll need you all to wait out here.”

  “Not a chance.” Benton crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I can’t conduct my investigation with every King in the county looking over my shoulder. Just wait here and let me do my job.”

  Benton’s jaw tightened, and he glanced from me to Logan. “Shouldn’t he be at Millie Lagner’s house?”

  Logan stiffened and took a step forward. “I don’t take orde
rs from jumped up little boys who hide behind their names.”

  “Logan.” I put a hand on his arm, but Benton’s glower only deepened. The situation in the hall had turned into a powder keg in the space of seconds. “Everyone, let’s calm down.”

  Logan shrugged. “I’m calm. How about you, Benny boy. You calm?”

  “How about you and I walk outside, and I’ll show you just how calm I can be.” Benton dropped his arms to his sides and took a step toward Logan.

  “Whoa!” I hurried around Logan and stood between them, holding my hands out toward them to keep them apart. “A little help here, Porter?”

  Porter’s amused grin reminded me of why he was voted ‘class clown’ in high school. “I’d love to see Benton kick this guy’s ass.”

  Logan scoffed, but Charlotte stormed past all of us. “Get a grip! Daddy is dead, the firm is gone, and you assholes are trying to start a brawl in the courthouse!”

  Charlotte was right. I dropped my hands and followed her around the corner. If those idiots wanted to wrestle while the firm burned, that was on them.

  “—isn’t here, I’m afraid.” Judge Ingles’ secretary sat at her desk, reading glasses perched on the end of her nose.

  “Where is he?” Charlotte asked.

  “I’m not sure, dear. He called this morning and said he had things to do today. Usually, that means he’s at the farm or maybe hunting.”

  “Can you call him? We need to speak with him.” I peeked into his office just to make sure. The light was off, and he wasn’t there.

  The secretary frowned at me. “I assure you he isn’t hiding in a closet. Give me a moment, and I’ll ring him.” She picked up her phone and hit a speed dial button.

  Low voices floated in from the hall. The men must have taken it down a notch.

  Charlotte shook her head, her dark hair flowing down her back. “My brothers are such idiots sometimes.”

  I shrugged. “Logan is too. How are you holding up?”

  She turned her blue eyes to me, the dark circles under them giving me my answer. “I just want this to be over. Whoever did this needs to pay.”