The Indigo Brothers Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vickie McKeehan

  “You think I’m involved with Mitch Indigo?” She shook her head and threw the notepad off the nightstand at his head and watched it bounce off his chest. “Wrong brother. It’s the hot surfer I’m interested in.”

  The waiter set up the food near the sliding glass door with a view of the white caps churning in the Atlantic surf.

  Sebastian stared out at the scenic picture it made. “This seems like such a cute little town. It’s hard to imagine all the things you’ve been telling me about it are true.”

  Starving, she sat down and started to dig into her eggs. “Wow, do I need to catch you up to speed!”

  Chapter Seventeen - Heat

  Garret spent the rest of the morning with his brothers filling his parents’ house with music. Mitch sat at the piano, Jackson took up his guitar, and Garret tapped his snare as they rehearsed what they recalled were Livvy’s favorite songs.

  The first note, the first chorus, were definitely forced and rough. But as they stayed with it, the harmony began to flow from the heart.

  In order for them to play at the memorial service, they pretty much had to put the grief they felt on display for everyone to see. Sharing their sorrow and sadness wasn’t easy for any of them to do.

  But to create the versions they liked best, the ones that came from deep down in the soul, took a certain amount of mettle out of each brother. Working to achieve the right melody, the right tone, gave them an opportunity to keep their minds occupied and off the subject of murder.

  But it also created friction.

  As band mates tend to do during the creative process, they squabbled about notes and refrains and which one kept coming in late on the beat.

  Frustrated, Garret tossed his drumsticks in the air and headed into the kitchen to get a bottle of water. That’s when the wall phone rang. That’s how he ended up being the one to take the call instead of his mother.

  Daniel Shugart had been the owner and operator of Shugart’s Funeral Home for as long as Garret could remember. Daniel had taken over the job from his father who had been the town’s only mortician for more than fifty years.

  Daniel’s voice was somber and professional. “I thought you might like to know that I just got all four bodies down here from the county coroner’s office. They released them to me this morning.”

  “Okay. So, what happens next? What do we need to do?”

  “I’ll take care of getting them ready for burial. But you should tell your parents they need to start thinking about picking out caskets by tomorrow.”

  Garret felt a lump form in his throat. “Got it. I’ll pass the info along.”

  The call had been brief but devastating. He turned to see his dad hanging on every word. The man looked as though he’d aged ten years in the last ten minutes.

  “I guess that’s it then,” Tanner told Lenore.

  “It’s hard to believe I’ll never see my daughter again or have Friday night sleepovers with Blake and Ally.” Lenore’s eyes went moist as her fingers worked her knitting needles. “I want to finish this sweater top for Ally. She picked out the mint green color herself. I thought maybe we could bury her in it along with that little plaid skirt she loved so much.”

  “One of us should probably call Royce,” Jackson suggested. He cut his eyes to his dad. “Not you. Okay. Me. I’ll make sure he knows about the service on Monday.”

  “Why bother with Royce?” Mitch snarled. “Do you see him anywhere around here concerned about any of us?”

  “It’s a courtesy,” Jackson began. “We didn’t get along with him when Livvy was alive. She knew that. The least we can do is try to maintain some kind of civility while we bury her and the kids.”

  The atmosphere was tense as they continued to practice for a little while longer. But they were never able to achieve the same pace or harmony as before the phone call.

  When they agreed to end the session, Garret caught Jackson’s attention, then Mitch’s. He bobbed his head toward the backdoor indicating he wanted them to follow him to the backyard. Each man grabbed a beer out of the fridge and wandered outside.

  Once they’d gone far enough away from the house for privacy, Garret told them about the burglar alarm going off at the Vitamin Hut, about the car that looked like Baskin’s spotted nearby, and the Alton Rennie incident near Port Charlotte.

  “The picture Dack showed me of the man driving the minivan could’ve been Boone’s twin. I think someone stole Rennie’s driver’s license at the track because he looked similar to Boone, enough that the cop didn’t question it. I’m convinced the driver outside Port Charlotte was Boone heading to the airport to ditch the van.”

  “It’s looking more and more like Baskin and Dandridge are the killers.”

  “Yeah, well, Dack said it wasn’t enough evidence to prove either man had anything to do with the murders. So we need to find the proof ourselves. They’re also probably the ones who shot Dack.”

  Mitch rubbed the stubble on his chin. “There’s just one problem with your theory. Last night I was watching Dandridge. I know he left church at five-thirty and went straight to his house. He never left unless he managed to slip out the back. We haven’t been covering the back. I must’ve missed seeing him sneak out. Which means I have terrible surveillance skills. As soon as I learned about Dack’s murder, I checked with Walsh. He says Baskin never left the auto repair shop until around nine-thirty.”

  Jackson took a slug of his beer. “That’s really late to stay and work at a garage. Most people expect to have their cars in there for repair overnight or even several days. The problem is how do we prove either man slipped out the back without you or Walsh knowing about it?”

  Mitch finally folded himself into one of the lawn chairs, stretched out his legs. “As far as I’m concerned that’s exactly what they did. The failure in surveillance comes if you don’t cover all your bases. That’s on me. I thought I could handle it by myself. Maybe Dandridge spotted me days ago and ditched me to go out with Baskin. We need to do a better job.”

  “Anniston will be bringing her brother over later. She says he’ll help us out. Maybe one more person means we can split up into pairs. There’s something else, though. Last night’s scene at the rest stop makes me realize it’s time we arm ourselves. I was out there in pitch dark with Anniston, unable to defend her or myself—not that she isn’t fully capable of protecting anyone, anytime. But she had a gun and I didn’t. It was an ideal situation where I could’ve used my own weapon. It was an eerie feeling. And that was before I saw Dack lying on the ground dead.”

  “I’m all for arming ourselves,” Jackson chimed in before taking another swig of his beer. “In fact, it’s overdue.”

  “Good, because I already called Michael Tang this morning and made arrangements for us to go by his store and check out his inventory. You know he has a gun range next door.”

  “I don’t need weapons,” Mitch told them. “I have an arsenal on the boat.”

  “Those are for you and your crew,” Garret pointed out. “Jackson and I need to pick out our own anyway. Something else to consider in all this, if we don’t turn this thing around and fast, I’m not sure who we should trust now in law enforcement. Dack was our in because Anniston had a history with him. Now he’s gone. Without him, I don’t see anyone on the horizon we can talk to.”

  “I was thinking the same thing. Sinclair isn’t even worth bothering with,” Mitch said in agreement.

  Garret had one more thing on his mind. “I think we should try to talk Dad into taking Mom out of town after the funeral. Make sure they don’t come back here until this thing is over.”

  “Do you think he’d do that?” Jackson asked.

  “If we handle it right. Maybe.”

  “It won’t hurt to put it on the table, especially if we let them know how things are heating up.”

  Michael Tang had excelled in the same class as Mitch in school. Where Mitch had languished near the bottom, Michael had graduated valedictorian. He’d become a
savvy entrepreneur who owned several businesses in town. One of those enterprises sold hunting and fishing gear along with guns.

  Garret studied the pistols under the glass case. He didn’t see what he was after. “What about a SIG-made P210? You sold any of those lately?”

  “Too pricey for most folks around here. I can order it for you, but it’ll take at least a week plus the three-day waiting period.”

  “Do you carry any SIGs at all?”

  Michael reached behind him and unlocked a cabinet. “Oh sure. I carry any number of SIG Sauers, mostly P230s and 238s.”

  “I’ll take one of those.”

  Michael pushed paperwork toward the men. “Three days. Plus, you guys need to take some time at the gun range, go through a safety course.”

  “I’ll teach them everything they need to know,” Mitch offered.

  Garret bumped Mitch’s shoulder. “I never thought I’d throw down a thousand dollars on a gun. It feels like I’m living in a parallel universe.”

  “For that kind of money I damn sure want to know how to use it,” Jackson tossed back. “You ever shot anybody?” he asked Mitch.

  “Nope. Never had to. Certainly never thought it would rear its ugly head in the place where I grew up. Maybe on some of my expeditions around Somalia, it got close. But it never reached that point.”

  “Look at us, carrying guns in our own home port,” Garret noted. “Things have really changed.”

  For their first meeting with Sebastian, Lenore spent the morning over a hot stove, frying up plenty of chicken. Garret commandeered one of the burners to boil his pasta for the macaroni and cheese casserole he planned to make. He counted on Mitch creating the gooey, cheesy sauce from scratch that held it all together.

  Mitch had to share space at the kitchen counter with Jackson and Tessa, who tackled the job of peeling a bag of potatoes for potato salad. Tanner agreed to make the beer run.

  By mid-afternoon they served up the feast in the backyard picnic-style. When Anniston walked in with her brother, she made sure he remembered faces and names.

  “It’s a lot to remember,” Tessa said, patting Sebastian on the arm. “My first time here I was flat-out overwhelmed.”

  “The Indigos are like that,” Raine added. “But they’re good, decent, hardworking people.”

  Sebastian’s first impression of the Indigos was that of a typical American family, down to earth and welcoming. But it wasn’t in his nature to be shy, too many years spent as a nosy cop. Even though Anniston had given him a clear heads up, he still had a lot of questions.

  Sebastian couldn’t shake one important fact. Dack’s presence here among these very people had contributed to putting him in danger. This case had cost Dack his life.

  Garret shoved a beer toward Anniston’s brother. “Thanks for coming. We could use all the help we can get.”

  “I wish I’d been able to break away sooner and be here to help Anniston more.”

  “She’s done a great job. It’s just that this is a lot for one person. I think Dack would’ve agreed. That last morning he met with us, you could tell he was stressing out. He seemed to have a lot on his plate.” Garret drank generously from his own bottle of brew. “Dack had planned to give us Walker’s emails.”

  “Dack was at that rest stop to share evidence with me. Someone must’ve known that. Dack must’ve been close to something important—something that implicated Baskin and Dandridge. I should’ve searched the car for a flash drive before the EMTs got there. I didn’t, but the killers probably did and beat us to it,” Anniston said, resting her head in her hands. “I’d planned to use that info to see if Walker contacted Dietrich. Twenty-four hours later do we even know who’s picking up the investigation?”

  “Already asked Briggs that very question. This morning he hadn’t even assigned anyone the case,” Sebastian complained. “So there’s no one yet to bug.”

  Garret decided it was time to level with his parents. He told them about Baskin’s car seen near the Vitamin Hut that Wednesday night and that a Dandridge lookalike might’ve dumped the minivan in Tampa. “And Dack uncovered the fact that Dandridge couldn’t be Roland Wainwright from Oregon. The height doesn’t match up. We don’t know who Dandridge really is, only that he came to Indigo Key twenty-some odd years ago. Before that, Anniston can’t find anything on him.”

  Tanner pushed his plate of chicken away, uneaten. “Goes to show how you never really know anyone. Trust. That’s a big word. Your mother and I trusted Dandridge, not just as a man, but also as a pastor. And so did Livvy and Walker.” He wiped away a tear. “That’s what hurts the most.”

  Lenore circled her arms around his shoulders. “The day he stood in the living room and said all those things about Livvy taking off, that was it for me. I knew something was wrong. Dandridge—or whatever his name is—has to be involved. The question is why would he harm an entire family, members of his own congregation?”

  Seeing the emotion firsthand, Sebastian’s heart went out to the family. “We’ll find out. Anniston wants me to go over every surveillance camera in town. That’s a tall order but it’s something I’m willing to tackle. I’ll beg the business owners if I have to. We also agree that finding this Hugo Reiner guy is essential. If the treasure hunting scheme was what started all this, then Hugo has to be the key link straight to Dietrich.”

  Anniston let out a deep sigh. “So you see, there’s still a great deal to do.”

  “My brothers and I want to help you find Hugo. We suspect he’s hiding somewhere along the coast. It’s where he’s known to hang out. We’ve even talked about starting in Key West, but right now keeping an eye on Dandridge and Baskin has to be the priority,” Garret explained.

  “What if we could do that using a remote security camera for surveillance?” Sebastian offered.

  Mitch chewed his lip. “I don’t think that would work. What if they go after someone else like they did Dack? What if they decide to go after Jackson and Tessa in Nana’s cottage? Or what if they go after Mom and Dad in the middle of the day when we’re busy doing something else? We’d find out about it too late to save them just like Dack.”

  “So we all agree that those two had something to do with Dack’s death?” Anniston asked, looking at Garret.

  “As far as we’re concerned, they’re responsible for obliterating an entire family, shooting Ryan, and killing a cop. We have to be willing to put them under watch twenty-four-seven.”

  “Your mother and I are up to watching Boone,” Tanner added.

  “That means we all have to take a shift,” Raine decided. “I’ll take 6 to 2 a.m.”

  “You can’t do that. You have the restaurant to run,” Mitch reminded her. “It isn’t practical for you to work all day and then spend eight hours on a stakeout.”

  Tessa got up to get herself more lemonade. “Not only that, it’s dangerous if we don’t work in pairs. If we think these men are coldblooded killers, it means any one of us could end up in a precarious situation we’re unable to handle alone.”

  “That’s why you need to take a turn at the gun range,” Jackson stated.

  “I’m not opposed to that, especially when you consider that either of these men could’ve been the one to fire the rifle at us out at the preserve in broad daylight. They could’ve gone out in the early evening hours to kill Dack. These aren’t bogeymen who wait until the midnight hour to strike. We have to be prepared for anything at any hour of the day or night.”

  “Good point. Are we in over our heads yet?” Raine asked in jest. “The only weapon I have is the one Danny used in the army, an M9. I’ve never even fired the thing before, not sure I want to.”

  Mitch bobbed his head toward his brothers. “When we make the trip to the gun range, bring Danny’s handgun and I’ll show you how to use it.”

  “Thanks for that,” Raine returned. “But there’s an issue no one’s talking about. What do we do when we find out Dandridge and Baskin are the ones responsible? We can’t exactly
call up Sinclair to help make an arrest.”

  “That’s why it’s vital to keep the door open with the state police,” Sebastian said. “If not, we’re pretty much screwed.”

  Garret looked up from his plate about the same time a tall, gorgeous, model-thin woman came through the back gate. His jaw dropped when he realized it was Dominka Karetnikov. The woman had graced the covers of Sports Illustrated in little more than a bikini and the pages of Victoria’s Secret wearing skimpy lingerie. She wasn’t wearing much more than that now—a mini skirt that showed off her ass and a short-cropped top that barely covered her boobs.

  Dominka waved to Garret and spoke in a heavy Russian accent. “I rang doorbell. No one answered. I heard voices back here so I come back here. Hi! I find you! Finally.”

  Garret stood up and went over to the beautiful blonde. “Dominka, what are you doing here? I thought you were in Belize on a photo shoot.”

  “No. You get it wrong…again. Barbados. I was in Barbados. I hear others talking about your sadness, your sister, your niece and nephew, your brother-in-law, all gone. I had to come see you for comfort.”

  “That’s really sweet.” And who knew she was so unselfish, Garret decided. When he found all eyes staring at him, he cleared his throat. “Uh, everyone, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine. She’s originally from a tiny town in Russia. Dominka, this is my mom and dad.”

  He proceeded around the table until he got to Anniston. Her dark eyes narrowed down to steel traps. They kind of scared him.

  “I’m from Vorkuta,” Dominka corrected.

  “How do you know Garret?” Anniston asked through clenched teeth.

  “We go to Tahiti where he gets medal for surfing.”

  Anniston’s eyes tapered into furious slits aimed at Garret. The expression on her face was cold and distant. “I thought you flew here from Queensland.”

  “I did. This…” He waved his hand between himself and the model. “Me. Dominka. Was a long time ago. Tell her, Dominka. We haven’t been together in…months.”