“In the barn. Where’d you get the translation that told you it was a shed?” The accusation in his voice was clearer this time.
My blood turned to ice. “His mother.”
Without a word, he continued following the wall with his flashlight beam, but his shoulders had tensed.
I planted my hands on my hips. “Spit it out, James. You don’t think Mason has my best interests in mind.”
Skeeter stopped and slowly turned around. “I don’t know the man like you do, so you tell me—do you think he’s really so shiny and clean?”
“Joe thought he was using you,” Neely Kate said quietly. “Remember? To get even.”
Skeeter’s voice was deceptively calm. “To get even for what?”
Neely Kate turned to him. “Joe was certain Mason stole Rose from him in retaliation for Joe’s role in Savannah’s death.”
Anger burned in my gut. “First of all, no one stole me. I have something called free will, and Joe had already broken up with me. But more importantly, Mason would never do such a thing. He loves me. He’s proven that time and time again.”
“He left you when you needed him more than ever,” Skeeter said in a harsh tone. “He left you defenseless.”
“He didn’t leave me defenseless,” I said in exasperation. “He called you to make sure I was watched.”
He took a step toward me, his eyes glittering with menace. “Why would he call me—a man he’s sworn to put away—to watch after his own girlfriend?”
I pointed my finger at him. “You stop that right now, James Daniel Malcolm. You know darn good and well why he called you.” I snuck a glance at Neely Kate, hoping to find support there, but she was frowning. Trying to regroup, I returned my gaze to Skeeter and started over in a calmer voice. “You and I were the ones to instigate the plan to bring down J.R. Mason knew you had a vested interest in me as Lady. He knew you would protect me.”
He shook his head and took two steps closer. “No. He knows that Simmons wants us both, and how convenient—we’re here together. To prove my point, Deveraux knows how I feel about you, and he still asked me to keep an eye on you. What man would do that?”
I crossed my arms. “A man who loves unconditionally.”
“But he didn’t love you unconditionally,” Skeeter continued, taking another step. “He left you.”
I shook my head, getting angrier by the second. “What are you saying, James? I want to hear you say the words.”
“I think Deveraux’s been using you and is betraying you even as we speak.”
I dropped my hands to my sides and clenched my fists, livid. “Have you plum lost your mind?”
“What if he’s right?” Neely Kate asked. “What if he’s setting you up for J.R.?”
I spun to face her. “That’s crazy, Neely Kate! That man loves me. You saw how devastated he was when I was in jail.”
“What if it was an act?” Skeeter countered. “You insisted on reaching out to Deveraux before sending him that video of your supposed death. You said he’d be good at playing along. And he was.”
My eyebrows nearly shot to my hairline. “Are you saying he was in on that, too?”
The muscles on his jaw line tightened. “I think we should be suspicious of everyone and everything right now.”
I looked at Neely Kate.
She gave me a sympathetic grimace. “He has a point.”
“Neely Kate!”
She reached for me, but I took a step back. I could barely see her face through the pool of unshed tears in my eyes.
“Rose. I know you love him, but you have to put aside your feelings for him and look at the facts. I’ve had to do the same with Ronnie.”
I found myself in too much shock to do anything other than nod my head.
Skeeter moved up behind her.
“We knew that J.R. was the one who sent him here to Henryetta,” Neely Kate said.
“We can only speculate that,” I said.
Skeeter’s hard eyes sought mine. “You knew damn good and well it’s true.”
Neely Kate grabbed my hand. “Mason hates Joe. And he hates J.R. for sending him to Fenton County in exile.”
“And both those things contradict your speculation,” I said in a firm voice. “What you’re suggesting would mean he’s working with J.R. He would never do that after discovering J.R. was behind his sister’s murder. On top of that, why would J.R. want to hurt Joe?”
“You know why. Punishment,” Skeeter said matter-of-factly. “To teach him a lesson for not following orders. For picking the wrong woman again. J.R.’s just going to keep upping the stakes for his disobedience. And Deveraux just discovered J.R.’s involvement in his sister’s death.” He paused. “Maybe Simmons convinced him I’m lying. Maybe he convinced him that I was the mastermind behind it.”
I shook my head, trying not to cry.
“Then there’s Hilary,” Neely Kate said.
My eyes narrowed as my anger blazed again. “What about her?”
“Kate told you they have a history.”
“Mason explained it to me.”
“His side. But what about hers?”
I jerked my hand from hers, so furious I was seeing red. “I am not falling for any of this. I know that man. He would never hurt me.”
“Rose,” Neely Kate said, her voice full of sympathy. “I never in a million years thought Ronnie capable of siding with people out to hurt you. Maybe you should try to be objective.”
“It would be a betrayal to even consider it, and I’ve betrayed him enough!”
Skeeter pushed Neely Kate aside and gave me a cold, hard stare. “No. You put you first. Above everything else.”
I returned his stare. “You’ve been puttin’ yourself first for thirty-nine years, Skeeter Malcolm. How’s that workin’ out for you?”
His nostrils flared, but he held my gaze. “I’m still alive, so I’d say it’s workin’ pretty well.”
Until me. But I couldn’t deal with that guilt. I already had enough on my plate.
I lifted my chin and said in defiance, “I know Mason. I trust him.”
He held my gaze, his jaw tight. “You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.”
I pushed his shoulder and walked past him. “And you like me that way. End of discussion.” I took a breath and shined my light on the opposite wall. “So presuming what we’re looking for is still here, where should we look? Because the obvious places have all been searched.”
Both remained silent for a good three seconds before Skeeter took a step into the middle of the room. “Let’s act as though it’s the first time it’s been searched.”
We’d been searching for fifteen minutes when I heard a loud groan of splitting wood. My mouth dropped open when I saw that Skeeter had ripped an empty tack cabinet off the wall with a crowbar.
“What on earth. . . ?” I gasped.
“Time to start lookin’ in the non-obvious places.” He’d tossed his jacket into the corner and was wearing a dark gray Henley that clung to his thick arms and wide chest.
His eyebrows rose in a challenge. “You got a problem with it?”
“No,” I said, with a hand on my hip. “I was thinking about remodeling anyway.”
If he caught my joke, he didn’t let on. Instead, he continued ripping off the cabinet to reveal the wood planks behind it.
I watched him for several seconds before Neely Kate flashed me a grin. What on earth was she so happy about?
She pointed her thumb behind her. “I’m going to check the loft.”
My head was still spinning after their earlier confrontation. I’d told them my trust in Mason was unwavering, but a small part of me kept wondering if there was a kernel of truth to their accusations. And that made me feel so guilty I could hardly bear it.
I had to nip these stray thoughts in the bud.
Feeling like a traitor, I brushed my dirty hands on my jeans. “I’m going to the house to check on Muffy and get some bottles of water. I�
��ll be back.”
Skeeter gave me a sideways look of disgust. “You always dote on that dog this much?”
“Yes, not that it’s any of your business,” I said. My snotty response caught me off guard, but he’d helped plant these annoying seeds of doubt. I realized I was more than a little ticked at the both of them.
“Next thing you know, you’ll be carryin’ it around in your damn purse. Or in one of those baby carriers,” he grumbled, then ripped a cabinet clean off the wall. It occurred to me that he was pissed, too.
“What a great idea,” I sneered. “I think I’ll go order one online right now.” Then I flung the barn door open with more force than necessary. The door bounced off the wall, and I looked back to see Neely Kate’s stunned face peering over the edge of the loft.
If I’d had any notion of surprising Muffy, it was quickly dismissed. Her face was still peering out the window, and she started barking and jumping up on the window the moment she saw me. I slipped through the back door and scooped her up, nuzzling her head with my cheek.
“Mason would never betray us, would he, Muffy?”
She assured me he wouldn’t by licking my chin. Unfortunately, that didn’t quiet the whispers of doubt floating through my head.
Setting her down, I walked into Mason’s office and sat in his chair. My shaken faith was a betrayal, and what I was about to do was even worse. Never once since he’d moved into the farmhouse had I gone through his desk. I’d given him the room for his private, professional use, and I’d always respected that boundary. Honestly, I was surprised he hadn’t come back to clean it out. He’d come by the house to pick up some clothes, but those files were on his desk. And I suspected there were more in the drawers.
I had no idea what the contents held. Mason Deveraux could never be accused of being careless, so if they were criminal files, I knew they couldn’t be too serious. The best way to find out was to start looking.
Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the folder on top of the stack and opened. It contained a file on a sixteen-year-old boy who had shoplifted at Walmart. The teen was a repeat offender, but a cursory glance told me Mason had worked with the boy’s case worker to get him into an anger management class and community service rather than a youth detention center. The rest of the files on the desk were similar—minor crimes, often repeat offenders.
In each, there was evidence of Mason’s fair-mindedness. He’d offered smaller punishments in plea bargains to the offenders who complied with counseling and community service. He’d referred several defendants to Jonah’s support group.
I closed the last file and took a deep breath. This was not the behavior of a man hell-bent on revenge, let alone a man who’d use a woman he claimed to love. I had a choice—I either trusted Mason or I didn’t—and I had to choose right now.
I was following my heart.
With my decision made, I hurried into the kitchen and grabbed three bottles of water from the fridge. I was about to go out the back door when my phone rang. When I pulled it out of my pocket, I was surprised to see Neely Kate’s name on the caller ID.
The moment I answered, her breathless voice filled my ear.
“You need to get out here. We found something.”
Chapter 24
I dropped the bottles on the table and ran out the back door, Muffy hot on my heels. I didn’t stop until I opened the door and found Neely Kate standing outside a horse stall. The cabinets on the other side of the room had been completely removed, but Skeeter was nowhere to be found.
She looked over at me with a horrified expression on her face.
“What did you find?”
“Do you have the key?” Skeeter called out, his voice muffled. I was pretty sure he was behind the horse stall.
For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why Neely Kate was so freaked out. We’d already turned the barn inside out. What could they have found? And, more importantly, where?
“Yeah.” I pulled it out of my front jeans pocket as I walked toward the stall. Muffy stayed at my feet, acting subdued. “What did you find?”
I rounded the corner and found Skeeter had ripped out the feed trough, which now lay on its side. “Are you seriously going to tear my barn apart?”
“Rose,” Neely Kate said, “he found something.”
“You already said that. Why don’t you look happier?”
“I found a trap door,” Skeeter said, reaching out his hand. “Let me try the key in the lock.”
I moved closer and realized he’d discovered a two-foot square door that was flush with the dirt, and which looked to be encased by concrete. The door had a deadbolt with a keyhole and a handle. There was a shallow hole next to the concrete box, but Skeeter’s body and the darkness obscured my view. Both the hole and the box looked to have been previously covered by the feed trough.
“This is a good thing, right?” I asked. “Why are you so freaked out?”
“Skeeter found something along with it.”
“What?”
“A body.”
I gasped and took a step back, turning my attention to Skeeter. “What?”
Skeeter grunted his impatience. “It looks like it’s been there for years. He’s not goin’ anywhere. We need to see what’s in the box. Give me the key.”
I handed it to him and tried to look around him into the hole. How could I have lived here—been in this barn multiple times—without knowing there was a dead body buried under the rusted tin trough?
“How’d you know to turn over the feed trough?” I asked, trying to catch my breath as my mind whirled. “It was bolted down.”
He looked up and winked, apparently unbothered by the fact that he was squatting next to a corpse. “A trick from the depression. People didn’t trust banks, so they hid their money in lots of hidey holes. My great-grandmother used to hide things under her feed trough along with a whole lot of other places. I suspect the trap door was already here, but this lock looks like it’s only twenty to thirty years old. The grave was probably dug at around the same time.”
I heard a pop of metal, and Skeeter grabbed the handle on the door and lifted. He peered inside and pulled out a soft covered journal, folded over on itself and wrapped up with leather strings.
“How many journals can a damn person have?” he grumbled.
“Maybe she was an aspiring writer,” Neely Kate mused. “Maybe she thought she could write a memoir.”
“Or maybe she wanted to keep me from knowing this seedy part,” I countered. “The journal I found in her drawer was all personal stuff, nothing about any of the mess she was in except for vague insinuations. The journal in shorthand looked to be dates and figures with text.”
“So what about this one?” Neely Kate asked.
Skeeter handed it to me. “Only one way to find out.”
I took it, glancing over his shoulder. I could see clothing, but it was partially covered by dirt. “What about the body?”
“You take a look in the book, and I’ll see what I can find out. The safe seemed more pressing.”
I nodded and unwrapped the cords with slightly shaky fingers. I had no idea what to expect.
Neely Kate moved next to me while I unfolded the book and opened the cover.
“It’s in regular English,” she said in surprise.
I was equally stunned but also relieved to see that the writing was in Dora’s script in legible English, not the shorthand of the other journal and the page in the safe.
I’ve become more and more suspicious of the things going on at Atchison Manufacturing. Before it was just me, but now I have my baby to protect. With that in mind, I plan to create a record of how J.R. Simmons was introduced to Henry Buchanan and what occurred afterward.
I have done so many things wrong. I am not blameless in any of this. But I hope to find redemption. For my baby.
“What does it say?” Skeeter asked as he shined his flashlight into the hole.
“I don’t know yet,” I said, flippin
g the page. “It’s a whole separate journal.”
“But this one reads like a book,” Neely Kate said. “See? I told you she might be an aspiring writer.”
She was right, about the reading like a book part anyway. The next page started like a story. I read out loud, “The first time I first met J.R. Simmons, I was mesmerized by his good looks and charm.”
Skeeter snorted. “He’s like the angel of light, Lucifer himself. Is there anything we can use?”
“I don’t know yet. I’m not even sure what to look for. Sure, we can give this journal to the state police, but that won’t help us tonight.”
“The Fenton County chief deputy sheriff took the other journal, and no one knows where it went,” he said. “You really think handing this one over is a good idea?”
He had a good point.
He leaned down into the hole, rooting around. “If this won’t help us, then we find something that does. Leverage.”
“Oh, my stars and garters,” Neely Kate moaned. “Are you touching that dead body?”
“Gotta find out who he was.” He rose to a squat with a wallet in his dirty hand. “Whoever buried him did a piss-poor job. They must have been in a hurry. Looks like they dug just deep enough to stuff him under the trough, then filled the cracks with dirt. But the body’s decomposed, so some of the dirt on the sides has fallen in on him.”
I cringed and swallowed my nausea.
“How do you know it’s a man?” Neely Kate asked, inching closer.
“His clothes. His hair.”
“Hair?” she screeched, moving next to the grave.
Skeeter shined the light into the hole. “See his hair? It’s short but dark, so he was probably young. He’s wearing men’s jeans and work boots. Look, see the blood on his shirt? I think he was shot.”
Neely Kate looked over his shoulder. “How do you know he wasn’t stabbed?”
“Because of the small holes in the cloth.”
“So he died from gunshot wounds to the gut?”
“No. I suspect he died from a bullet to the head. See the hole in his forehead?”
Thirty-Six and a Half Motives: Rose Gardner Mystery #9 (Rose Gardner Mystery Series) Page 24