The Indigo Brothers Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vickie McKeehan

  Tessa glanced up at the heavens. The sun broke out through billowy clouds streaking the sky with rosy orange stripes. The scene resembled an inspirational postcard she’d picked up for others back home when she’d been trying to comfort friends.

  But it seemed there was no chance of comfort.

  Sitting there she felt aimless. Staring out at the horizon she watched the sun drop slowly into the afternoon sky. The harbor was alive with activity. There were sailboats returning to port having tested the wind and currents. Yachts were motoring out with the sole purpose of taking advantage of dinner and a sunset. Fishing trawlers brought in their end-of-the-day catches, their holds brimming with shrimp or crabs. Schooners were filled to capacity with vacationers anticipating trophy barracudas for their walls.

  Life, it seemed, went on around her.

  But not for Ryan. Never again for Ryan.

  A burst of sadness swept through her. The sobs erupted and she couldn’t seem to stop the flow of tears.

  As soon as he stepped off The Black Rum, Jackson spotted her like that, sitting forlorn and lost. Head tossed back, she looked like a fiery red-haired mermaid waiting to cast her spell over the nearest male.

  Which would be him, he thought now. He sat down on the bench next to her, tossed an arm around her shoulders. “Raine called Mitch with the news. I’m so very sorry, baby.”

  Her head dropped to the comfort of his shoulder. “Deep down I already knew.”

  She wiped her nose on a napkin she’d stuffed in her jeans pocket from the taco shop. “What about you? Did you find anything?”

  “Nah, just a roll of carpet that probably fell off a freighter a long time ago.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her breath hitched. “They don’t even know a cause of death. How is that possible? He could’ve been shot in the head, but…”

  “Don’t do this to yourself,” Jackson pleaded. “Don’t think about how he died, not now.”

  “No, right this minute my grief is so deep and wide, I almost feel as though it’s a living thing that I could reach out and touch, or hold this giant ball of heartache in my hands. I have something to ask you. I know it’s a lot, but…you can say no because the timing really sucks. But when I leave to bring Ryan’s remains back to North Carolina will you…?”

  Jackson didn’t let her finish. “I’ll go back with you.”

  “You will? I know it’s an imposition.”

  “Don’t be silly. I’m not doing anyone any good here. That’s a fact. Besides, I don’t want you having to go through this without me. Let me take you to the cottage. We’ll spend the night there just the two of us. I’ll pick up some more groceries and make you a meal. I want to be with you tonight.”

  “I was hoping you’d offer because, right now, there’s no other place I’d rather be.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five - Fire

  They stopped at Raine’s to let Tessa leave a note for her roommate and pick up a few things she’d need for an overnight stay. She collected her toothbrush and toiletries, a change of clothes, and stuffed a robe down into her bag.

  At the market they browsed for fresh yellowtail snapper and settled on a fifteen pounder Jackson could pan grill. He grabbed eggs and milk while Tessa headed down the produce aisle, picking out a bundle of asparagus and the makings for a salad.

  Even weighed down with the shopping bags, the easy stroll to the cottage took less than five minutes. But before reaching the front door, Jackson pulled up short and pointed to the Patagonia Pike moored practically across the street from the bungalow. “Look how low she sits in the water. They’re loaded with supplies and gearing up for an expedition to somewhere.”

  “You don’t think that’s odd for them to anchor so close?”

  He did, but sending alarm bells running through her was the last thing he wanted, especially today. “It’s a free country. During the last week, I’ve seen the crew come and go in the harbor.” He unlocked the door and carried the groceries into the tiny kitchen. Heaving the bags on top of the counter, they began to unload the sacks.

  The salvage boat forgotten, he tried to pamper her by plopping her down at the table to watch him cook. But that didn’t last longer than the need to throw a salad together.

  “I’m not an invalid. I can help with dinner,” she insisted as she took out a knife to slice and dice the vegetables.

  “You aren’t used to being coddled, are you?”

  Had she ever been coddled? she wondered. “I guess not. My mom died when Ryan and I were still in middle school. There was no one around after that to spoil us about anything. Dad worked long hours to pay Mom’s mounting medical bills. Ryan usually tried to ease his burden while I kept the home fires burning, cooking, cleaning, that sort of thing. I guess by the time my mom had been dead several years and he joined that online dating site, he thought he deserved a little attention of his own.”

  Jackson dumped rice into a boiling pot, lowered the burner. “It’s a shame he didn’t get it with Suzanne. I’m looking forward to meeting this infamous femme fatale.”

  “You shouldn’t be. She’s a viper. It’s funny how people think she’s so charming and normal. Of course those are members of the country club she joined. She acts like she’s from old money when in truth she’s more of a phony than anyone I’ve ever met.”

  “You don’t think she had anything to do with Ryan’s death, do you? How did Suzanne feel about Ryan? How does she feel about you?”

  The question had her fumbling the knife she used to chop up the peppers. “As much as I detest my stepmother that’s how much she detests us. The feeling is quite mutual.”

  “But you mentioned something about when your dad dies all his money will go to her, right?”

  “I did say that, but it was an assumption, an off the cuff attempt at humor. In truth, I’m sure my dad would never even consider leaving his children out of his will.”

  Jackson dropped the fish into a skillet. “Just how greedy is this woman?”

  A sick look crossed Tessa’s face. “Greedy enough to insist on my father taking out life insurance to the tune of two million dollars and making her the beneficiary.”

  “With you and Ryan out of the way, she’d get his entire estate. I don’t want to freak you out or anything, but if we’re making a list of suspects, it’s something to consider.”

  “Maybe she hired someone to follow Ryan down here from Nags Head.”

  “Would she do something like that?”

  “I don’t know.” Tessa took out dishes from the cupboard to set the table. “But once when Suzanne got mad at a neighbor she told us she knew the right people who could make things happen. About a month later, the lady’s house caught fire. Luckily, the woman and her children managed to get out in time and escaped without any injuries. But I always wondered if Suzanne’s threat was connected in some way. When I mentioned it to Dad he dismissed it, said Suzanne was just trying to impress us with a lot of big talk. Believe me, it had the opposite effect on everyone but Dad.”

  Jackson removed the pan-seared snapper onto their plates and dished out the rice. “I’m curious. What had the neighbor done to piss her off?”

  “She let her little boy wander over the property line with his dog and the dog pooped on Suzanne’s prize tea roses.”

  “You’re kidding? That’s it? This woman sounds like a piece of work. How did Suzanne act when you announced you were coming down here to look for Ryan?”

  A slow moving fear spread to the pit of Tessa’s stomach. “Suzanne was against it, told me it was a waste of time, that he probably just wanted a break. Now that I think about it, she did everything she could to keep me from coming here.”

  With that charge hanging in the air, Jackson got out two beers from the fridge. They sat down to supper under a cloud of doubt.

  When he realized the mood had darkened, he laid a hand over hers. “Look, we’re probably letting our imaginations take off into the irrational and the wild. Something you definitely don’t need ri
ght now. I hate it that you have to go through this. But we don’t dare deny that the situation calls for thinking outside the realm of normal.”

  “Granted I might have a wild imagination, but just in case, I’m asking Anniston to look into Suzanne’s background.”

  “There you go, an even better plan.”

  “Jackson, do you really think Walker murdered my brother?”

  An unsuitable topic for sure, Jackson decided. “I’ve been thinking about that and I don’t know. If I believe Walker killed Ryan, then I have to consider the possibility he did the same thing to Livvy and the kids.”

  She wanted to be mad at his change of heart, but understood the logic of that. “You know what? I think we should table any further discussions about murder and enjoy the food you fixed.”

  He locked his fingers into hers and kissed the top of her hand. “An excellent suggestion. Did you know my grandmother was a combat nurse assigned to a MASH unit during the Vietnam War? Her sister, Tansy Williamson, a photojournalist, got the idea to travel over there and take photographs of my nana in action.”

  He stood up and crossed over to where an older photo hung on the wall. “This is the shot Tansy took of my grandmother in her nurses outfit tending to an injured soldier that made the cover of Time magazine.” He tapped the glass. “Tansy behind the lens, my nana in front.”

  “You come from interesting stock, Jackson.”

  He chugged his beer and smiled. “I really do. You know, when I’m around you, you get me to thinking about things I’d forgotten.”

  “I wish I could’ve met your nana.”

  “Me too. She was a feisty individual long before anyone ever heard of the feminist movement. She used to wear these crazy hats around town so she wouldn’t get too much sun. That’s before all the warnings came out and every kind of sun screen hit the market.”

  “Sounds like your nana was ahead of her time.” Tessa leaned over and began to nibble his jaw. “Let’s hurry and clean up the dishes and go to bed. What do you say?”

  “I like the way you think.”

  Jackson was fast asleep with Tessa nestled beside him when he heard what sounded like a thud hitting the front of the house. He sat up, rummaged through the nightstand drawer, grabbed a hefty two-foot-long flashlight he found there and tossed back the covers. The floor creaked as he made his way to the bedroom door, wishing he’d followed through with Michael Tang and bought a gun.

  The minute he turned the handle, Tessa shot up like a rocket, still in a sleepy stupor. “What’s wrong?”

  He put a finger to his lips for quiet and motioned that he’d heard a noise and intended to check it out.

  In spite of his protests, Tessa crawled out of bed to follow on his heels. “I’m going out there with you,” she whispered.

  “That stubborn side to you is annoying,” Jackson muttered.

  “Get used to it,” she said, and grabbed her robe.

  They tiptoed down the hallway, past the bathroom to the living room. He crossed to the window, peered out onto the lawn.

  “See anything?”

  “No.” He went to the front door, opened it up enough to see if anyone was on the porch.

  The brown envelope, the nine by twelve variety, had been propped up against the front door and fell into the open doorway. In bold letters printed across the width, it was addressed to “Livvy’s Surviving Family.”

  Jackson leaned down to scoop it off the mat, but before he could, Tessa warned, “You don’t want to handle it. Maybe they left fingerprints or DNA. Let me find something to use to protect it.” She dashed off to the kitchen to grab a potholder or dishtowel.

  While Tessa did her thing, Jackson used the time to scan the street and the harbor from the doorway. There were no cars moving, no shapes or shadows lingering anywhere near the house. He squinted in the direction of the harbor and noticed the Patagonia Pike had its running lights on, motoring out of the bay.

  When Tessa reappeared, she handed off two potholders for Jackson to use to grasp both sides of the packet.

  They treated the envelope as if it were an explosive device, using a pair of tweezers to undo the metal clasp and pull out the document—a single sheet of paper, computer-generated, three paragraphs long.

  The letter read like someone had ripped the pages out of the middle chapter of a thriller. Jackson stared at the words, unable to focus.

  It was Tessa who began the gut-wrenching narration.

  As soon as she’d finished the last word, Jackson felt like he might be sick. “Call everyone, get them rounded up. They need to know about this.”

  “Jackson, it’s four-thirty in the morning.”

  “I don’t care. Either we go to them or they come here.”

  Tessa dug out her cell phone. “With limited space here, I’d say it’s better if we do this at your Mom and Dad’s. But that would mean we’d have to transport the note and use additional care handling it. I think that’s a bad idea. We should get everyone over here.”

  “Fine, just do it,” Jackson muttered. “When will this nightmare ever end?”

  Chapter Twenty-Six - Fire

  An hour later, they’d thrown on clothes and made coffee and got ready to greet their sleepy band of sleuths.

  Anniston arrived first, half-awake and cranky. She was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact someone had left a note when Jackson handed her a mug.

  “Thank God for caffeine.” Using both hands to grip the cup, Anniston took a seat on the couch, the whole time eyeing the document still on the coffee table. “This case just keeps getting weirder.”

  Jackson took a sip from his own cup, playing lookout at the front door for the rest of the family. Too angry, too upset to sit, he railed into the early morning dawn. “We’ve suspected from the start sick people scuttling around in the dark is pretty much how this whole thing got started. I just don’t think we were prepared for a blow by blow detail like this.”

  “Who would write such a thing?” Tessa asked.

  “The same person who murders little kids,” Jackson barked. He rubbed his forehead. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  She rubbed his back. “It’s okay. I know it hurts.”

  When Anniston got too close with her coffee, Tessa took up guard around the note. “Try not to spill anything on it. And before you ask, we never touched it with our bare fingers.”

  “Good thinking. It hadn’t crossed my mind because it’s a little early for me. At this hour I’m barely able to form a cognizant thought.”

  Lenore walked in, gave her son a big hug. “So this is where you two have been hiding out.” She patted Jackson on the back and whispered in his ear, “You should buy this place, move back home and get out of that concrete jungle you call Manhattan.”

  “Mom, not the time or the place.”

  “Just saying.”

  Tanner grumbled as he came in behind his wife, followed by Mitch and Garret. “What’s this all about anyway? Where’s the damned coffee?”

  Lenore pushed her husband and sons toward the kitchen. “I’m sure it’s not in the living room.” She pointed toward Jackson. “We still have to wait for Raine. We don’t start without her.”

  Raine showed up last, but she’d stopped to pick up a dozen pastries and croissants from the French bakery on Seafarer Way. “After Tessa’s phone call I thought we might need butter-laden dough with our sugar high.”

  Mitch took the box and flipped up the lid. He made a sound in his throat that sounded like pure pleasure. He picked out a cruller, took a generous bite. Showing his gratitude for the food, he bent his head, placed a kiss on Raine’s forehead, then her cheek. “Good call. You always did think of everyone else first.”

  Raine tilted her head at the compliment. “Have you been drinking? If not, you must still be half asleep.”

  “Now Blondie, that’s just mean. It’s too early for that kind of wanton aggression.” He watched as she pushed past him into the kitchen.


  “If I have to put up with your attempt at being nice, I’ll need a gallon of coffee.”

  After everyone served themselves coffee and sweet rolls, dragged chairs in from the other rooms, they huddled together in a circle in the small den as Tessa used the tweezers again to hold the paper in place. She began to reread the chilling account of how Walker, Livvy, and the kids had supposedly died.

  “‘Your sister suffered. I made sure of that. I beat her before putting a bag over her head and strangling her just as I did Walker. I suffocated him first, though, made sure he was dead. I did the same thing to the bratty kids. The little boy begged me not to hurt his daddy. The boy was so scared he wet his pants. The girl wasn’t much better but at least she showed some gumption. She tried to kick at me. She was still screaming and fighting when I put the bag over her head and watched her slowly die. I watched each one take their last breath and enjoyed every minute of it. Although it was over too quick to suit me.’”

  Tessa stopped, put her hand on her stomach. “Someone else has to finish. I think I drank my coffee too fast or something. I feel sick.” She dashed down the hall to the bathroom.

  Anniston leaned over the table to read without bothering to pick up the note and continue where Tessa had left off.

  “‘They didn’t live long after I took them. But did I mention your sister tried to get away? She crawled on her belly before I hit her in the head and crushed her skull. She still wasn’t dead though and begged for her life. Don’t think you’ll ever find me. And you’re wasting time looking for the bodies. You’ll never find their makeshift graves. The swamp is a very unforgiving place. Decomposition begins immediately. It tears at the skin. And the ’gators use them for food. You might as well accept they’re gone for good.’”