The Indigo Brothers Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vickie McKeehan

  It wasn’t until everyone cleared out that Lenore turned to her family. “Did you get the sense that was a united mission to make sure we believe that Livvy up and left on her own?”

  “That was certainly my take,” Mitch answered.

  “Mine too,” Jackson stated. “The question is why? They didn’t even bother to get their stories straight. They had Livvy leaving to go all over the country. What’s it to them what we believe or where we look? It’s as if they’re making not-so-subtle suggestions we give up searching.”

  “Pretty lame if you ask me,” Tanner added. “Especially that part where Livvy wanted to see practically every state in the union.”

  “Then why the full court press? Why make us believe something that flat out isn’t true? A lot over the top if you ask me,” Jackson grumbled. “It didn’t seem to matter to them that their pitch was so obvious. I’ve no doubt they stopped by just to let their tongues wag.” But despite his demeanor, panic began to set in, a realization that they were no closer to having any real answers than the day before or the day before that.

  Garret walked into the kitchen holding a legal pad scribbled with handwritten notes.

  “Nice of you to show back up again,” Mitch muttered. “Where did you disappear to?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business but I went down to Mattito’s for a beer.”

  “We got a crazy-ass caller while you were gone who claimed they saw Livvy and the kids at Disney World. We passed the information along to Sinclair.”

  Lenore poured herself a glass of iced tea. “Even I know that isn’t true. Livvy didn’t like the crowds there. When Blake was five he got lost at Magic Kingdom—for about five minutes—scared Livvy into the next county. She swore she’d never take the kids there again.”

  Garret rolled his eyes and tossed the legal tablet on the kitchen table. “So let the crank calls begin. A side effect of the large reward we posted.” He turned the paper around so he could share what he’d jotted down. “I finally got a callback from Marcelli’s office. He’ll be here tomorrow. Apparently, he’s been keeping up with the case through the media so he’s pretty much up to speed. Although I did have to assure the guy I spoke with that Livvy wasn’t the type to leave town without letting people know where she was going. He seemed to agree, at least over the phone.” Garret looked around the room at the faces for a reaction. “I thought for certain y’all would be whole lot more excited than this. What gives? What’d I miss?”

  Jackson helped himself to a beer out of the fridge and twisted off the top. “Well, for starters, a series of performances from the stalwart community we’ve known and loved for years.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Jackson replayed all the different conversations.

  “Sounds like someone wants us to go off on a wild goose chase,” Garret snapped.

  “Several wild goose chases.” Jackson guzzled his beer. “The problem with that load of crap is that if it ever gets back to inexperienced cops like Hawkins. The guy might take it as fact and decide it’s further proof Livvy took off.”

  Lenore’s eyes widened as she pulled back the plastic wrap on one of the mac and cheese dishes the neighbors had dropped off. “Well, luckily for us, Antoinette and Cristina set them straight. Surely Hawkins would listen to them over…”

  “Livvy’s pastor?” Tanner pointed out. “Did the women set Boone and the others straight? Some people will believe what they want to believe regardless of the facts. Boone flat out ticked me off. Why the very idea Livvy would be so irresponsible as to take her kids out of school to fly to Maui to see some stupid crater is not worth my time.”

  “Then why go out of their way to tell us the stories at all?” Jackson queried. “Why stop by at all? Unless they were purposely trying to send us in the wrong direction?”

  “Are we getting paranoid here?” Tanner wanted to know. “These are people we’ve known for years, people we’ve trusted.”

  Jackson lifted a shoulder. “We could stand around trying to figure the why of it but we have bigger issues to deal with, like a third day of searching.”

  “Which reminds me,” Mitch wondered. “Why didn’t Tessa show up at the search point today to help?”

  “She wasn’t there? At all?”

  “Nope. I have the roster for each and every person who went out today. Tessa didn’t check in.”

  “That’s odd. I thought we’d missed each other. It never occurred to me she was a no-show.” Jackson took out his cell phone, flipped through his texts and phone calls. “Come to think of it, with everything else going on, I haven’t heard from her all day.” He keyed in the message, What’s up? Are you okay?

  But after waiting several minutes without a response, Jackson made a decision. “Maybe I’d better take a spin by the hotel and see what’s up.”

  Tanner took the beer out of Jackson’s hand. “Make sure she’s okay. I don’t want to have to worry about someone else’s daughter disappearing.”

  Lenore patted Jackson’s arm. “What he means is invite her back over for dinner tonight. Look at all this food. Now who wants some of this tuna casserole?”

  At the Mainsail Lodge Jackson was stunned to learn Tessa had checked out of the hotel. Standing in the lobby he tried calling Tessa’s cell phone only to have it go straight to voicemail.

  Baffled, he stood there and thought back about their last conversation. Something about her pointing out that Walker had been the last person to see Ryan. At the time he’d been too busy and too distracted with the search to take the time to really listen to her.

  But now, unease began to creep its way into his gut. He hoped to Christ he didn’t have another missing person to worry about.

  He ran back outside to where he’d left his dad’s truck and spent the next hour combing the streets looking for her blue Toyota.

  In hindsight, he should’ve asked for her family’s phone number back in Nags Head. But who knew she’d do a vanishing act. He racked his brain trying to figure out where she could have gone. After scouring every street near the hotel, he pulled over and sent one final text message before heading home. His last effort of the night read, Private investigator coming tomorrow. You’re welcome to sit in on the meeting. Where are you?????

  While Jackson hunted for Tessa, she’d gone for a drive not far outside town. In fact, at the same moment he dashed off the urgent message, she was sitting down the road from Royce Buchanan’s mansion snooping on Walker’s father.

  If Walker had done something to Ryan, it stood to reason that Royce had known about it, or played some role in getting it done and then covering it up. The Buchanans certainly had the resources.

  There might be zero logic to it, but she’d never wanted to leap to a conclusion more than she did now. How else had Ryan’s medical alert bracelet ended up on the floor of that stateroom on Walker’s yacht? Tessa chose to ignore a reasonable explanation, like it might’ve come unfastened while Ryan had been reeling in one of those oversized swordfish.

  Instead, she’d bought a pair of well-worn but high-powered binoculars for fifteen bucks from a thrift store in town with the sole purpose of using them to spy on Royce. For the past hour, she’d watched several luxury cars pull up and park in Royce’s circular driveway.

  As a stranger in town she didn’t recognize any of the men who’d shown up. It was too dark to make out any of the guests anyway. That is, until she spotted Jessup Sinclair’s squad car pulling up. She watched as the police chief got out, adjusted his gun belt, and walked to the front door as if he belonged there.

  A lump of mistrust settled in her belly.

  When a Mercedes zoomed past the Toyota and parked behind the line of other cars, it made her wonder if all this activity signaled a break in the case that she knew nothing about.

  There was one way to find out. She used her cell phone to check local news outlets online. But after several minutes, she couldn’t find a single mention of a development, at least none that had gone publi
c.

  She thought about calling Jackson, especially after reading his texts. But when she picked up her phone again, it had gone completely dead. All the Internet searching had drained the battery.

  The sound of another car made her glance up in time to see a BMW whiz by. The driver of the Bimmer took a position in line behind all the rest.

  Something big was going on. She’d bet money on it.

  Gut instinct had her rethinking the call to Jackson. Could she really trust anyone in this town? By the looks of the high-end vehicles, Royce’s summit embraced a segment of Indigo Key’s well-connected higher ups. But if Royce had gathered a consortium of his buddies, the police chief was obviously a part of that.

  Whatever the reason for their meeting, it was taking place right in front of her. She’d been in town a week and realized this was the first opportunity that might provide a little insight into what Walker might’ve been involved in and with whom. Like father, like son. Because the occasion presented itself, Tessa needed to take full advantage.

  She decided taking photos of all the license plates on the cars would go a long way to finding out exactly who was on the guest list. She had to wait for the phone to charge to at least twenty-five percent before she unplugged the device and got out to get a closer angle. The trick was not getting caught.

  Eager to take the pictures, she walked down the dark road toward the house. On the way, it occurred to her how remote this house was. Anything could happen out here and no one would be the wiser.

  “Stop letting your imagination run wild,” she murmured into the shadows. “Stick to what you’re able to prove.”

  As she went from one car to the next snapping photos, she wondered if Ryan had made it to this same spot during his visit. Had Walker brought Ryan here just as he had brought him onboard the Misty Dawn?

  A loud discussion coming from inside the house broke her train of thought. The male voices drew her closer. Ducking into a row of hedges, she made her way past juniper, the rough needles causing her bare arms to itch.

  The drapes on the front windows were still open so she peered through the glass and got her first look at the five guests who’d dropped in to visit Royce Buchanan. From Jackson’s description, the elderly man was easy to spot. He looked frail and broken as he sat shriveled in a wing chair in front of a roaring fire.

  The heated discussion seemed to be coming from the other men as well while Royce sat back and listened. The men argued about what to do next. Of all the unlikely members bent on getting his point across, Jessup Sinclair seemed the most adamant. Entrenched in his stance, the police chief shouted in Royce’s direction. “We shouldn’t give up now, not after everything, not after coming this far.”

  Another man added, “We’ve invested a lot of time and money in this. Do you know what this could do for the town? Why, we could build one of those megachurches with a sprawling campus, maybe even start a college like you see other towns doing.”

  It didn’t seem fair though to single out these two, Tessa thought. Because the other men seemed just as locked in the same opinion.

  “He’s right. It would be pointless to go back on our word. We’re in too deep to give up now.”

  Those last words had goose bumps forming along Tessa’s neck. On the warm breezy night, the chill she felt went straight to her bones. How deep had these men gone exactly? Had murder taken them all down a deeper, darker path?

  Those questions brought her full circle. What the hell was going on in this picture-perfect little town? And at some point had Ryan asked that same exact question?

  Chapter Eight - Fire

  Inside the clubroom at the marina, the third day of scheduled searching began with a disappointing turnout. Fewer than twenty people showed up. And the ones who did began to wonder about Livvy and Walker pulling the kids out of school and taking off for Barbados via the Tampa Bay Airport.

  By midday many had decided that the couple had opted for an impromptu vacation, and were, even now, listening to calypso music while sipping mojitos and soaking up rays on sugar-white sand.

  Jackson had tried his damnedest to explain that if Livvy and Walker had wanted to sit on the beach, they had only to go down the street to do it. “Why would they take off for the Caribbean?”

  But logic didn’t seem to make a difference.

  What the hell was going on in this town?

  If it hadn’t been for Jackson and Garret, Mitch would’ve told the doubters what they could do with their ridiculous theories.

  Tanner looked around at the sparse crowd. “Where are the rest of the volunteers?”

  Jackson knew the truth would sting. “I’d say we’ve encountered a major ding in the town’s support system. Where’s Mom?”

  “Where do you think? Sitting by the phone. She refuses to leave the house hoping Livvy will call.” Tanner scanned the clubroom a second time. “What do you mean we’ve lost support? Overnight? How is that possible? There are at least four thousand people on this island. Surely they don’t all believe Livvy and Walker left on their own.”

  Jackson exchanged looks with his brothers. “That’s the thing, Dad. You should never underestimate the power of Boone Dandridge and his flock. Rumor, innuendo, and email are powerful tools when you want to get the word out.”

  Tanner couldn’t believe his ears. But after Boone’s declaration yesterday while standing in his own living room, it was tough to dispute the results. The tide had definitely turned. “Your mother and I have been members of that church since you guys were little. Through the years we’ve attended baptisms, weddings, held prayer meetings, baked enough potluck casseroles to feed thousands, sat beside most of them in Sunday school class. We’ve showed up at the hospital to show our support when members of the congregation got sick. Walker and Livvy did the same. And this is what happens when we need help? Why would Dandridge turn on us like this? Why would he choose to ignore the very real problem that members of his own church have gone missing, disappeared out of their house in the middle of the night? What’s going on here anyway? Has everyone gone nuts?”

  Annoyed with the turn of events, Garret pointed out, “That’s why we hired the private investigator, to get to the bottom of all this. Speaking of Marcelli, the guy should be pulling into town in about an hour. I suggest we grab something to eat and plan on a long afternoon.”

  Mitch agreed and started packing up the extra posters and other equipment. “Were you able to locate Tessa?”

  Jackson looked miffed. “No. She checked out of the hotel without a word to me.”

  “What do you intend to do?”

  “About what? What do you want me to do? Didn’t you hear what I said? She didn’t exactly leave a fond farewell note behind.”

  “What if something’s happened to her, Jackson? She’s the one who got such a chilly reception from this town when it came to asking questions about her brother.”

  “Well, damn. Thanks for making me feel like a coldhearted jerk for not following up last night.”

  Mitch rolled his shoulders back, lifted one. “Look, maybe it’s as simple as her switching hotels. The Mainsail is a tad on the pricey side even this time of year. Did you try the Sugar Bay Motel? They’re already offering an off-season rate if you book at least a weekly stay.”

  Jackson rubbed the back of his neck. “That just shows how much my brain is on overload. I didn’t even consider she might be looking at saving a few bucks.” He took out his cell phone, searched the motel’s number online. “It’s worth a shot.”

  But when the desk clerk checked, he was told Tessa Connelly hadn’t registered. Jackson decided then and there it might be time to worry.

  Garret noticed the concern on his face. “You look like you took a punch to the gut. What do you want us to do?”

  “Get something to eat, recharge, get ready for the meeting. I’ll take another spin around town, try to locate her car.”

  “Okay, but keep us posted.” Before turning to head out, Garret added, “
Don’t worry about her. She struck me as a capable woman who could handle herself. I’m sure she’s around somewhere.”

  “She doesn’t know anyone else but us.”

  “True. But there’s always the possibility she got fed up with things around here and headed back to North Carolina.”

  That option didn’t sit right with Jackson. He had to admit he liked the spunky redhead.

  “Mitch wants to head over to The Blue Taco. But if you ask me, I think he really wants to catch a glimpse of his old high school flame. Want us to grab you a plate to-go?”

  “Sure. I’ll meet you there. Order me the lobster roll with an extra side of rice and salsa. If I don’t make it there, bring them back with you to the house.”

  Ten minutes later, the rest of the Indigo men opened the door to a turquoise and gold-trimmed stucco building in the heart of the marina district belonging to The Blue Taco. Family-owned, the restaurant had been around for more than three decades. It began when Diane and Douglas Manning moved to the Key in 1962 and started a food stand near the beach where they served fish tacos.

  Through the years, they added versatile dishes to their menu. They boasted low to moderate prices. An affordable meal always appealed to tourists. That’s why visitors flocked to it during the summer. It wasn’t unusual for lines to form out the door and around the corner at lunchtime.

  By the late eighties, the eatery became a popular teen hangout for the high school crowd. It was tradition to dish up a tasty fish taco combo or burrito platter, or offer up their famous eight-inch lobster rolls served with fries cooked in peanut oil.

  Mitch let his Dad and Garret do the ordering while he slid into one of the peacock blue vinyl booths under a wall of plate-glass windows. From that spot he could look outside onto the patio and see familiar faces in the crowd. His heart did a little extra thump in his chest when he spotted Raine Manning, her honey-blond head ducked under a bright blue umbrella.