The Indigo Brothers Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vickie McKeehan

  Mitch threw up his hands. “Are you ever going to get tired of beating that same dull drum? I’m sick of hearing about it! I have a salvage business to run, a legitimate business that takes me around the world. It’s what I do. I go where the treasure is. And it doesn’t include scamming people or stealing because I’m in debt up to my eyeballs.”

  “Kids,” Lenore pleaded. “This isn’t the time or the place for bickering about something that happened a dozen years ago between you two. Let it go.”

  Raine bobbed her head. “You’re absolutely correct, Lenore. That’s why I’m happy to approach Carson. I think I’ll be able to dig Walker’s scheme out of him, if there is one.”

  “Well, I’m an outsider,” Tessa said in an attempt to break the tension. “It doesn’t matter to me who I get. All I ask is that Jackson go with me or I go with him. You know what I mean.”

  Mitch lifted a shoulder. “Fair enough. We want to draw straws for someone other than the doughnut man, or what?”

  Jackson, who’d been leaning up against the counter, set his jaw. “I talked to Royce already. I’ll take Dietrich.”

  “No,” Mitch said quietly. “Dietrich’s mine. Our professional connection should give me something to jam open the door. If Walker was trying to hook up with him to look for gold, then I’m the best person to talk to the treasure hunter, professional courtesy.”

  “Fine. Then I’ll take Baskin.”

  “We will take Baskin,” Tessa corrected.

  “Right.”

  “Your mother and I want Dandridge,” Tanner said.

  “No offense, but do you think you’ll be able to keep your cool enough to ask him about any kind of conspiracy?” Mitch asked.

  Tanner glared at his son.

  It was Lenore who spoke up. “I’ll see to it that he does, because I’m going with him.”

  Garret chewed his jaw. “Anniston’s already talked to Sinclair once, and it didn’t go all that well. So I think we’ll skip him for now. I’ll go see Dave Oakerson. See if I can determine how deep the mayor’s dirt goes.”

  “There’s something else we need to discuss,” Jackson said, cutting his eyes toward Garret.

  “You’re wading into dangerous water there, bro,” Garret cautioned. “I’m not sure now is the best time.”

  “No, if we’re splitting up to face the enemy, everyone needs to have all the facts.” Jackson chose his words carefully before going on, “There’s some indication that Livvy was seeing Nathan Hollister.”

  Lenore’s brow wrinkled. “Of course, she saw him, every day. They were old friends. Livvy and Nathan were always doing something together.” Her words bounced back as the implication hit her and everyone else in the room at the same time.

  “Wait. You’re saying Nathan and Livvy were having an affair?” Mitch put his hands on his hips. “You want to tell me what the hell you’re implying?”

  Garret waded in. “That Day-Timer I found behind the water heater is very…detailed.”

  Mitch whirled on his brother. “That’s bullshit. That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Livvy wouldn’t do that.”

  But Jackson was determined to stay on course. “Try to remember how unhappy she was, Mitch. I think Livvy had finally reached her limit with Walker and was ready for something else in her life. On the days he took off to Miami, I think she and Nathan spent that time together. I don’t think Livvy cared Walker was seeing the Ellerbee woman.”

  “Based on what? Some stupid day planner?”

  Jackson told them about all the emails Livvy had sent him, and that she always seemed to mention the banker. “Now no one can find Nathan. I’ve called. I’ve left messages. It’s obvious he’s avoiding me.”

  Acceptance came hard for Mitch. He slumped back against the wall as if he’d been punched. “You think Nathan might have killed the entire family and left town when he thought we were getting close?”

  “I don’t know. But if we’re planning on sending the army out in attack mode, we need to keep an open mind about Nathan’s part in all this. I don’t think he could do such a thing, but then…you never know.”

  Mitch scrubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t care if she and Nathan were having an affair. Let’s say for argument’s sake you’re right. Maybe Livvy got fed up, gave the cheating thing a try. Walker was unfaithful, too. The marriage must’ve been over. Did you know, Mom? Dad?”

  It was a long time before Tanner opened his mouth. “No. But if I had known, I might’ve done something stupid like encouraged my daughter to leave Walker and take the kids. I wanted her to be happy. Do you think Nathan made her happy?”

  Lenore bit her lip. “I think he did. I don’t think Nathan would’ve hurt her or the kids. But Livvy did spend a good deal of her free time with him. They’d go shopping or pack a lunch, even take the kids on picnics. They weren’t exactly secretive about it. Livvy said they were friends, and I believed that’s all it was.”

  “I asked Livvy about it, too,” Raine admitted. “She and Nathan took a lot of trips to the antique mall. When I pointed out to her that she didn’t own a single piece of furniture in her house that would be considered antique, she laughed and told me that she was helping him pick out stuff for his office at home. Livvy said they were just friends. I believed her explanation.”

  Mitch threw off the shock. “So how long do we give the Coast Guard before we go looking for Blake and Walker ourselves? You know they’re out there somewhere in the same general vicinity.”

  Lenore shook her head. “I never thought for one moment it would come to this. But I don’t want to bury Livvy and Ally without Blake. We’ll need to talk to Royce about whether or not he’ll want Walker to be buried with Carla and Winnie.”

  Mitch gave his mother a sympathetic look. “Okay, then I’d say we wait twenty-four hours. If they haven’t located them by then, I’ll get the precise coordinates where the Southern Star pulled in the barrel and start charting the waters. I need to give my crew a heads up on a time frame anyway. Walsh will stand by until I give the word.”

  “And how long do we wait before we start looking for Nathan?” Jackson prodded.

  “I have Anniston on that already.”

  “So you knew yesterday when you found that thing?” Mitch accused, sending Jackson, and then Garret, a disgusted look.

  “Yeah. I did. But then Jackson knew I wouldn’t blow a gasket at the news. Instead of asking Dad if he’s able to keep his cool, do you think you can do the same when you get in front of Dietrich? Because if you freak out with him like you just did, you’ll demonstrate a weakness we can’t afford to show.”

  Mitch’s chest tightened. “I won’t freak out.”

  Raine snorted. “That’ll be the day.”

  “Don’t start,” Mitch warned.

  Garret had heard enough. “Both of you need to lose the anger. We’re all tired of listening to you bicker, or playing referee. Get over the past or walk away. It’s just that simple. There’s too much at stake for all this infighting every time we get together. It’s a costly distraction. What do you say?”

  Raine kissed Garret’s cheek. “I’ll do better. But I can’t promise your brother will do likewise.”

  Chapter Six - Heat

  Walsh Kingston had a past that very few people knew anything about. He’d learned at an early age that it was best to keep certain things about himself private. He’d gotten good at it over the years. But not before making some major mistakes.

  His yearlong incarceration at seventeen occurred after a fight with a bully over a woman. Defending the lady’s honor had come at a price. His rashness taught him a valuable lesson. Bullies were fine if they were left in control. When that control was taken away, they had a tendency to run scared into the nearest corner, crying all the way to law enforcement. Because he’d acted out of immaturity, a brash act over nothing, he did his best not to repeat the mistake. He’d learned to keep his temper in check.

  Walsh knew the value of intimidation. It h
ad kept him alive while surrounded by older, tougher, meaner inmates. He’d survived by serving each of those three hundred and sixty-five days growing wiser, getting smarter, learning to control certain urges.

  He’d made a vow to himself never to take his freedom for granted ever again. So far, he’d been successful.

  His military background in Special Forces was another matter entirely. He’d joined the Navy right out of Fort Madison lockup, spent ten years doing his government’s dirty work in places like Somalia, Bosnia, and Libya before getting fed up with the lifestyle and chucking the entire thing. He’d long since obliterated his tattoos, turning them into tropical things like parrots or other frivolous wildlife so there was nothing left to tie him to his former life.

  His training came in handy sometimes though, whenever he needed to handle a weapon or take up for a fellow crew member. He hadn’t taken a life since his Navy SEAL days. But this thing in Indigo Key had all the earmarks of ramping up to a turf war.

  He was getting a very bad vibe.

  It was barely dawn when Walsh waited on the deck of The Black Rum sipping his first cup of Colombian roast. His light brown hair fluttered in the breeze, his olive skin glowed in the sheen of the morning light. His sharp, pale blue eyes watched as Mitch made his way up the ramp to the boat.

  “Everything here normal?”

  “We haven’t had our ass blown out of the water yet, if that’s what you mean,” Walsh fired back.

  “How’s Prentiss doing?”

  “He does his job, doesn’t make trouble. What’s the latest in this saga?”

  Mitch let it all come streaming out. Because he trusted the man like a brother, he told Walsh about the interviews and what Anniston had discovered hiding in each man’s background.

  “I can’t exactly throw stones at someone’s past, now can I?” Walsh said as a reminder.

  Mitch stared into his friend’s face. “You ever steal from someone, Walsh?”

  “Nope. Don’t like thieves. But I’ve done far worse things.”

  “As a soldier,” Mitch pointed out. “I’m talking cold-blooded murder here.”

  “Did you have any idea your hometown was such a hotbed for criminal types before now?”

  “I don’t think it was. Something changed. I’m just not sure when. I have a favor to ask. I want you to keep an eye on Roger Baskin for me.”

  “Sure, in my spare time, I’ll see if I can out-slicker the mob enforcer. If I’d known I’d be asked to babysit like this, I’d’ve asked for a big fat raise. But since I don’t care for cold-blooded killers who go after little kids, I’ll do it without you doubling my pay.”

  Mitch slapped his friend on the back. “I knew I could count on you.”

  “That, too.”

  The banter went back and forth between friends until Mitch got serious. “I want you to keep your guard up out here. Pass the word along to the men to do the same. And tell them not to go blabbing around town about the case when they spend any time in town.”

  “They don’t really know that much about the case, certainly not specific details. But it sounds to me like you have a major trust problem.”

  “I guess I do.”

  Chapter Seven - Heat

  “It took me an hour to convince Wendy Hollister that it was weird her husband never made it to Denver. What a cold bitch,” Anniston revealed as she breezed into the house on Quay Avenue.

  In the heat, she’d changed into a peach sundress that set off her bronze skin. But with the humidity outside soaring, she was still fanning herself when she walked in. “Whew, it’s hot out there. Sorry I’m late, but Wendy likes to go on and on, unfortunately it’s all about Wendy. I don’t think she mentioned her husband until I asked about him.”

  “So you got inside? Good for you. She wouldn’t even let me in the door the night I stopped by to see Nathan,” Jackson detailed. “Were you able to talk her into filing a report, making it official?”

  “Eventually. But it was like dragging her there kicking and screaming. Something’s off with the woman,” Anniston declared. “I sat there while Chief Sinclair took the report, otherwise I thought she might get bored and get up and leave.”

  Garret came out of the dining room where he’d been helping Mitch pinpoint the exact coordinates of the shrimp boat. “Wendy works for the mayor. So maybe when we get Dave to talk to us we’ll find out how and why she’s off.”

  “The whole town’s off, if you ask me,” Anniston stated without holding back. “No offense.”

  “None taken,” Tanner muttered. “Although it used to be a nice place to raise kids.” He stared at Anniston still gripping her laptop. “You need a place to put that and work? Take the kitchen table. Mitch has charts spread out all over the dining room.”

  Later, they were all clicking in their respective zones when the doorbell rang.

  Tanner opened it, only to see Royce Buchanan standing on his porch. He looked beyond the old man and noticed Roger Baskin leaning up against a Maybach sedan parked at the curb.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Royce? What do you want? You lost or something?”

  “Your oldest boy invited me,” Royce explained in a gravelly voice. “’Course that was when we still thought our children would be found alive.”

  Tanner turned an accusing eye on Jackson before he snapped out, “What could you possibly want here with us?”

  “Let me come inside. You don’t expect me to tell you standing outside on the porch, do you?”

  In a reluctant posture, Tanner opened the door wider so the old man could make his way inside. He watched while Royce used a cane to hobble over to the sofa and sit down next to Jackson.

  Tanner let him get comfortable before he cleared his throat. “Okay, let’s have it. What do you want?”

  Royce lifted his cane in the direction of Mitch. “I need his help to find my boy. Walker’s still out there in the water somewhere. I want you to help bring him home where he belongs.”

  Mitch clenched his jaw. “Why me? Why not ask your buddy, Werner Dietrich, for help? He’s the one with the major bucks.”

  The name threw Royce off balance. They could tell it by the way his eyes grew wider. “What do you know about Werner Dietrich?”

  “I know his boat, the Patagonia Pike, is outfitted a lot better than The Black Rum. And I know you Buchanans always go first class.” Mitch had the satisfaction of seeing Royce go white as a sheet, so he went on. “I know the guy has a penchant for collecting artwork, circa World War II, and spends his time looking for Nazi gold.”

  Mitch thought Royce looked like he might pass out. “Which makes me wonder why you’d come to us for help when you could rely on a seasoned crew like Dietrich’s bunch. Unless your buddy is busy with other more pressing matters, like trying to pinpoint the whereabouts of something very, very…lucrative.”

  It took a full minute before Royce recovered enough to speak. “I’m not in the habit of asking Werner Dietrich for favors. He isn’t the type of man who hands them out, not without wanting something in return.”

  As much as Tanner loved watching his sworn enemy squirm, he lobbed another hard volley. “We already know you met with him during the height of our search for Livvy. In fact, the discussion got rather heated. What have you gotten mixed up with, Royce? What did you do that cost Livvy and my grandkids their lives?”

  Royce’s eyes watered with emotion. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Werner is a businessman. He simply put in some money to fund the development of the golf course. So did a lot of other wealthy backers. My association with him is strictly a business arrangement, no different than other members of the community who want to see this deal go through. There are business owners who want a resort built here to watch the town grow and prosper. Not everyone is like you, Tanner, stuck in the bygone days. Some people actually want to see us grow.”

  “I’m not getting in a political discussion with you the day after I find out my daughter and granddaughter
were discovered stuffed in a barrel.”

  “But they haven’t found Walker,” Royce tossed back.

  “And little Blake,” Tanner supplied. “Why do you never mention the kids? What are you up to, Buchanan? You’ve dragged Boone and your other cronies, even Jessup Sinclair, into your web of deceit. What are you hiding?”

  “You’re talking conspiracy-theory foolish. I’m the one who had Sinclair taken off the case right from the beginning. Do you understand that? I didn’t trust a two-bit, rinky-dink, easy-to-bribe cop like Sinclair to find my boy. So I called Tallahassee direct, talked to a friend of mine up there, someone in charge. It isn’t my fault the state sent me down some inexperienced dimwit like Dack Hawkins.”

  Tanner dropped into his recliner as if he’d been shot. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

  Garret wasn’t so ready to trust the claims. “But you are involved in something with Dandridge, Sinclair, Mayor Oakerson, and this Dietrich guy from South America, right?”

  Royce looked tired and worn out. “Other than the development deal, I swear to you I don’t know what you’re talking about. All of you have gone crazy.” His eyes darted around the room at all the disbelieving stares. A full thirty seconds went by before he decided to speak again. “All right. Fine. I’ll tell you what I know. Last summer Walker came to me claiming he was putting together a business deal, a big one, one that would blow me away. When I asked for details, he wouldn’t tell me a thing.”

  “Didn’t you think that was odd?”

  “Not really. It isn’t the first time Walker attempted to stand on his own two feet. Of course that usually led to his failing but I always encouraged him to keep trying. I never gave up on my boy. Every son tries to impress his father at one time or another. Walker was no exception.”

  “That’s pretty hard to believe,” Garret pointed out. “That he wouldn’t brag to you about the players he’d lined up. Any idea what type of deal he was working on?”

  “I questioned him about it more than once. He was very vague. But he was also very excited, couldn’t wait to get it off the ground.”