The Indigo Brothers Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vickie McKeehan

  Garret spotted the crowd of reporters standing in front of a shotgun-style bungalow about the same time Anniston did. It was hard to say who let out a louder string of curses. “How the hell do the vultures get word so fast?”

  “Police scanners, or in this case, their source in the police department—they all have them. There is a third possibility. Chief Sinclair leaked the info to the media.” She grabbed Garret’s arm before he could open the passenger door and leap out into the swarm of news crews.

  “Pull yourself together. Don’t confront them in the state you’re in, at least not until you bank that rage. I know you’re pissed off, but think of it this way. If the world is watching, then so is the killer. You want the son of a bitch who did this to know you’re motivated to find him but that you’re in total control of your emotions and the situation. From this point going forward, act like you know something they don’t. If you can’t do that, then let me do the talking.”

  For the first time Garret truly looked into the depth of her sharp, nut-brown eyes. What he found there was a confidence he didn’t feel at the moment. Obviously she’d already crafted a predetermined strategy to deal with all this. He squeezed her hand. “I’ll follow your advice. It’s good. But they’ve likely already talked to Mitch. There’s no telling what he’s said on-camera.”

  “If that’s true, then we’ll deal with it.”

  As soon as the car door swung open, newshounds surrounded them. Reporters clutched microphones and shoved them in Garret’s face for comment. They all talked at once, bombarding him with rapid-fire questions.

  He’d been used to interviews with sports reporters before, but this was a different thing entirely, a different tone. These people were asking about how he felt learning that his sister and niece had ended up stuffed in a fifty-five-gallon drum and discarded in the Gulf waters like trash.

  He did his best not to take the bait. Tamping down his fury, he straightened his spine. “We don’t know for certain it’s them. But if it is, that means Walker and Blake are still out there. Our priority is to find them and bring them home to be with Livvy and Ally.”

  He cut his eyes to Anniston before staring straight into the camera lens. “I just want to say one more thing to whoever did this. Killing women and children makes you the lowest of the low. You’re not even human. You’re nothing but a sick coward. Our second priority will be to find you. And there’s no place where you’ll be able to hide.”

  Anniston spoke up so the journalists could hear her over the din. “That’s it for now, guys. As you might imagine, Mr. Indigo needs to be with his family. I hope you’ll respect their privacy while trying to deal with their grief. For now, I hope you allow them the time they’ll need to mourn.”

  With her five-eight height, she shouldered Garret through the crowd, pushing them both toward the foursquare bungalow and up to the front porch.

  Garret flung open the door and stepped into the tidy living room, Anniston following on his heels. He took one look at his big brother, two years his senior, and stopped in his tracks. He’d never seen Mitch’s face so knotted with emotion. Mitch sat on the couch watching the interview Garret had just given replayed on one of the morning TV shows. Like an echo, Garret heard his own voice rerun the same words.

  Mitch looked up at his baby brother. “Way to go, you said exactly what I couldn’t. The reporters have been pounding on the door since they woke me up at six fifteen. I looked out through the curtains and saw the news vans lining up at the curb. And I knew. I just knew something had happened overnight. So I turned on the TV and heard about the skipper on the Southern Star netting the drum. I’ve been sitting here ever since, not wanting to go outside and face the reporters.”

  Garret went over, bear-hugged him, and dropped down on the other end of the sofa. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to tell you myself.”

  “It wouldn’t have made a difference. I called Jackson, woke him up—helluva thing having to hear news like that over the phone. He’s the one who’ll break it to Mom and Dad. I don’t envy that chore. He’s making arrangements to catch the next flight out of the Norfolk International Airport. If they can manage it, all four should be back here sometime this afternoon.”

  “So Tessa decided not to stay in Nags Head?”

  Mitch shook his head. “I think she wants to be here for Jackson. And for Mom and Dad.”

  They heard someone pound on the front door. “Go away!” Mitch shouted, his head in his hands. “You got your interview, now go the hell away.”

  The female voice from outside hollered back, “Mitch, it’s me, Raine.”

  Anniston got up to let her in.

  Raine burst through the doorway, breathless and sobbing. “My mom heard it on the news and called me. I got here as soon as I could.” She darted over to the men she’d known since elementary school, squeezed her way in between them and took a seat on the couch.

  Mitch laid his head on her shoulder. Garret did the same on the other side.

  “Thanks for coming,” Mitch whispered.

  “Why wouldn’t I? This is beyond heartbreaking. Livvy’s been my best friend ever since…” She started to bring up old baggage, but thought better of it. What would be the point on a day like today? Instead, she placed a tender kiss on Mitch’s cheek, rubbed his back, and threw an arm around Garret. “Are they absolutely certain it was Livvy and Ally?”

  Garret deferred to Anniston, who went over the same ground she’d already covered. “Several days ago Tanner provided the medical examiner with the name of the family dentist. Give it twenty-four hours and the dental records will tell us for certain.”

  “I’m surprised Dad did that,” Garret noted, as the wall phone in the kitchen started ringing. “I don’t feel like talking to anyone right now. In fact, I need a shower. Then I need to get dressed into other clothes.”

  So Anniston played buffer. She fielded calls from the close-knit neighbors, as well as curious strangers who kept asking about all the macabre details. Managing the phones was part of the job, she decided. But it struck her that this was a bizarre turn of events. Not surprising since this had been a weird case from the beginning. She did her best to remain calm, but the tether on her cool demeanor was tested when she realized the killer might be one the callers, making contact just to get a reaction.

  She took care of several of the more persistent reporters before Garret snagged her hand and tugged her down the hallway to where he’d slept the night before in Livvy’s old room.

  “I want you to play decoy with the press. Go back out to your SUV and maybe they’ll follow you.”

  “While you do what?”

  “I need to get inside Livvy’s house again.”

  “Why? I’ve spent hours in that house, Garret. There’s nothing there.”

  “I don’t care. The answers have to be there…somewhere,” he shouted. “The cops missed something. You missed something. We all did. I want to take another look around before Mom and Dad get back. I’d like to be able to give them some answers, tell them why their daughter and granddaughter ended up tossed into the Gulf like waste.”

  “Garret,” Mitch began from the doorway. “It’s a good idea. We’ll go back in and comb through everything, room to room.”

  Anniston threw up her hands. “I opened every drawer, looked through every closet. I’m telling you there’s nothing there.”

  “Then you missed something,” Mitch charged. “Something that tells us why Livvy and Ally were killed.”

  Garret turned to Anniston, gauged if there were hurt feelings at the comment. He decided she’d weathered the Indigo temper just fine. “Look, we’re not accusing you of slacking off or anything like that.”

  Mitch moved his head from side to side. “I’m definitely not. It’s a large house, easy for anyone to miss a piece of the puzzle, especially when we have no idea what piece we’re looking for exactly. One person couldn’t possibly cover every angle.”

  “I’ll help look,” Raine offered, c
oming up behind Mitch. “I’d intended to make everyone breakfast, but I don’t think anyone’s in the mood for food.”

  “Thanks for that,” Garret drawled. “But we’ll grab something later before we head to the airport.” To Anniston, he asked, “So will you help us dodge the press?”

  “No problem. I’ll make sure they don’t follow me to Livvy’s. I’ll even go back in the house and help you look as many times as you want.”

  She pushed past Mitch, stopped. “And you have a point. Of all the cases I’ve ever worked, it never occurred to me Livvy and Ally would end up dumped in the water in a rusty barrel. I want to find the person responsible for doing that to a mom and a little kid.”

  Chapter Two - Heat

  Thirty minutes later, Garret and Mitch ducked out the back door and took off around the carport. They cut across the neighbor’s backyard to get to the next block.

  The corner house at the intersection of Blue Fin and Windward was a far cry from the Indigos’ house on Quay Avenue. Doubled in size, its West Indies style suggested money and prestige. Not a surprise since Walker was the son of the wealthiest man in the county.

  Walker had let Livvy paint the house a soft mint green while keeping the columns on each side of the front door and the second-floor railing a creamy white. The louvered windows sported shutters in the same eggshell tone that made the house look as if it belonged in upscale Nassau.

  The brothers headed around back to the breezeway connecting the main house to the detached garage. Sandwiched in between was a small guesthouse built as a cabana-style getaway and designated as Walker’s office. They’d already gone through his man cave once without finding anything of value, which meant they’d likely save a second hunt there for last.

  “Did you bring the house key?” Mitch asked.

  “Crap. Last time I checked Anniston had it. I forgot to get it back.” He dug out his cell phone to text her, asking for an ETA. A few seconds later a ding indicated she’d sent a reply. “She’ll be here in five minutes without the press.”

  Mitch studied the house and the long narrow windows running the length of the utility room. “I don’t like standing around. You could pick the lock.”

  “I forgot my keys. My gadgets for that are all on my key ring. But I could bust it down.”

  “Nah, no need for that. We could just crawl through one of the laundry room windows. There’s a gap.”

  Garret stared at his brother. “What are you talking about?”

  “When we were here last time looking around I noticed one of the windows above the washer and dryer had been left open about four inches.” He held up his thumb and index finger for a measurement.

  A disquieting thought occurred to Garret. “You don’t suppose that’s how they got in, do you? That Walker and Livvy never opened the front door at all.”

  Mitch’s eyes grew wide with interest. He walked around the house until he stood beneath the same bank of windows he remembered. “That’s a possibility. At the time, I assumed the window was located too high off the ground for anyone to crawl through. Plus, the screens on each one are still in place. See?”

  “But the window is open wide enough so that someone could’ve used it to get inside and then shoved the screen back in place later. We didn’t get to go through the house until a week after the cops got done with it.”

  “Garret, those windows are a good seven feet high. I’m a tall guy but I’d need someone to boost me up or use a stepladder to take off that screen.”

  “So the killer had help,” Garret shot back. But as he took in the height, his face showed the disappointment. “Okay, so this isn’t an entry point. Each time I think I’ve figured something out I take two steps back.”

  “I didn’t say we should rule it out. When we get inside we should see if it looks like anyone messed with it.”

  Garret heard a car engine and recognized the motor in Anniston’s SUV. He walked around the corner of the house in time to catch her and Raine pulling into the driveway.

  “How about if I open the garage and you pull the Explorer in there out of sight?” Garret suggested.

  “Why all the secrecy?” Anniston asked as she handed off the key to the house.

  “Because I don’t want any of the neighbors knowing what we’re up to and tapping into Sinclair.”

  She slapped his set of keys into his palm. “I noticed you left these on the counter. It has several of those little wrenches you so often use.”

  “Thanks. I generally never leave home without them. But I was upset. And since we don’t have the remote to open the garage…” He sent her a half-smile, dangled the key ring in the air. “I’ll use one of these on the side door.”

  A few seconds later, he stood inside the garage. He hit the button to raise one of the three doors so Anniston could park her vehicle next to Walker’s sporty Jaguar.

  “This is the cleanest garage I’ve ever seen,” Garret noted, looking around the tidy space. It was organized to the point that everything was in its proper place in a ridiculous, obsessive way. Four bicycles—two adult, two kids—hung from the ceiling so they’d take up less room. Plastic storage boxes were neatly arranged on the shelves and stacked on the sidewall. “Did you get a chance to search in here?” he asked Anniston.

  She got out, angled her chin in Garret’s direction. “I didn’t have the garage opener and didn’t want to face a B & E charge that might give the neighbors an excuse to call Jessup for doing what you just did.”

  Garret sent her a smug look as he hit the button to close the garage door behind them. “I keep telling you I’d’ve made a decent cat burglar.”

  He turned back to Raine and Mitch. “Instead of splitting up, I think we should stick together, go through one room at a time and finish it up before moving on to another part of the house. I say we might as well start in here.”

  “That’ll work. This garage is as orderly as the house,” Raine commented as she crossed over to get an up-close look at Walker’s convertible coupe. “He spent some major bucks on this. You know he bought it on one of his trips to Miami, probably to impress the Ellerbee mistress. Livvy was furious that he didn’t talk to her about the purchase beforehand.”

  Mitch made a derisive sound in his throat as he began to take down clear plastic storage boxes so they could rummage through the contents. “Yeah, to the tune of sixty grand. That’s why it’s so hard to believe the guy was having money troubles and couldn’t pay his web designer.”

  “Any excuse for being a tightass,” Garret muttered as he mentally counted the containers. “There’s only twenty to go through. That shouldn’t take long. I’ll start at the back wall near the water heater, work my way to the front, while you guys flip the lids on those.”

  Garret opened the door to a storage closet on the back wall. It held nothing more than a lawnmower, an assortment of garden tools, a gas can, a bag of peat moss and potting soil, and the usual water hoses and sprinklers.

  As he searched he remarked, “You know, I checked out Ryan’s website, and it’s a masterpiece of marketing. It should’ve taken the Vitamin Hut to the next competitive level. Which is another reason why it was weird Walker refused to pay Ryan his money.”

  Raine shook her head. “When you think about it, Ryan had no choice but to hound Walker to pay his bill. And yet, we’re looking at a luxury car in his garage and he couldn’t pony up a lousy five grand for the fancy website he ordered. Something’s wrong with that picture.”

  A comprehensive search meant Garret had to stick his hand behind the water heater. “Not so clean over here,” he grumbled, meeting sticky cobwebs along the way to the back. “I hate spiders.”

  “Don’t be a wuss,” Mitch ragged. “What’s a little bite from a brown recluse in the quest for the truth?”

  “Yeah. Well. There’s something back here behind the tank.”

  That caused Anniston and Raine to abandon the cartons they’d been digging in for a closer look. The women went over to where Garre
t ran his hand between the wall and the appliance, watched as he brought out a simple binder, a day planner in soft brown leather.

  “That’s a Filofax, nice. I have one of those myself,” Anniston remarked.

  “It belongs to Livvy,” Garret stated as he thumbed through the pages. “From three years back.”

  “You’re kidding?” Mitch scratched the side of his face. “Do you suppose it’s been out here all this time? Why would she hide it…out here of all places?”

  Raine bumped him on the arm. “Why do you think? She obviously didn’t want anyone finding it, namely Walker.”

  “But from three years ago?” Anniston’s brow furrowed. “I’m not sure what good that will do us. Although it’s an interesting find—and one we should fully check out from cover to cover—we should do it later when we can sit down and pick it apart. Anything like this, we box up.” She glanced around for something to hold the day planner and settled on a box full of out-of-date fishing magazines. She promptly dumped the contents onto the concrete floor to make room. “Here. Use this.”

  Raine went back to delving through a bunch of infant clothing Livvy had preserved in plastic bags and kept as souvenirs from Blake’s and Ally’s baby days. Tears filled her eyes even as she tried to hold them back. She held up a white lace dress Ally had worn at two months old. “Ally wore this at her christening. I can’t believe that baby’s gone. It was just August when I went with Livvy to help pick out school clothes for both kids.”

  Mitch was in the middle of foraging through old high school yearbooks when he crossed to Raine, put his arms around her shoulders. “I know. I’m having a hard time believing it’s real.”

  “It’s real, all right,” Garret chimed in while rummaging through a carton filled with holiday decorations. He was up to his knees in silver and red Christmas ornaments, wreaths, garlands, ceramic Halloween pumpkins, and bags full of plastic Easter eggs. “I don’t care what Walker got involved in, they didn’t deserve to die like that.”