The Indigo Brothers Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vickie McKeehan

  “Where do you want these?”

  “Park them in the hallway for now, I guess.”

  Hollings rushed into the room, his Diet Coke can in one hand, a half-eaten burrito in the other. He pointed to a spot in the corner of the living room where he’d set up his workstation. “Over there, please. It’s more convenient for me.”

  “I thought you meant your wife was sending you a package,” Mitch commented. “A couple of books, a list or two of code words. I wasn’t expecting you to send for your entire archive.”

  “Oh, this isn’t all of it. During the latter stages of the war, the Germans were known to change their codes at least once a week, sometimes more frequently. There are thousands of variations. Since I didn’t know what I’d be dealing with yet, I needed to cover all my bases. Let’s just hope the author of that diary didn’t go rogue and develop his own personal code. That would throw a wrench into everything.”

  The driver finished unloading the cartons as Hollings counted and inspected each one. He refused to sign the slip for the delivery until he’d checked each book one at a time for damage.

  When it seemed to take forever to placate Hollings that his stuff had arrived intact, the driver grew impatient.

  Hollings noticed Raine and Mitch eyeing the huge stack of books. “Honestly, I didn’t know what I’d need, so I had Gracie, that’s my wife, send the lot. I hope you don’t mind.” With that he got busy setting up his research library. And within minutes he was zoned out to everything and anyone around him.

  Mitch scrubbed his hands down his face and strolled back into the kitchen, ready for coffee. He spun Raine in for a long kiss. “Get a good night’s sleep in my old room?”

  “You know I did.” She grabbed a fistful of his T-shirt. “But just so you know, I draw the line at making weird noises right down the hall from where your parents are sleeping.”

  “Trust me, I’m not complaining. Besides, they’re very sound sleepers.”

  She sent him an eye roll. “That sounds just like something you would’ve pointed out in high school.” She poked him in the belly. “What happened to that hands off promise? I knew you wouldn’t keep it.”

  “How am I supposed to keep my hands off a tasty morsel such as yourself?”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Sensing a land mine, he veered off course. “I want one of those burritos. I’ve been smelling them for almost an hour.”

  “Nice dodge.” She plated a burrito and watched him dig in.

  “I love these things.”

  Tanner stood in the doorway, sniffing the air the same way Hollings had done, and Lenore followed him. “Something smells good.”

  “I need coffee,” Lenore announced.

  “Do you see what’s happening in my own living room?” Tanner grumbled. “Professor Bishop has taken over an entire corner of my house and stacked enough books in there until it looks like I’m starting my own public library. It’s lopped over very near my TV watching recliner. I can’t even see the whole flat screen TV. I thought when he said his wife was supposed to send him stuff, he meant a box, a couple of research papers.”

  “Who do you think let the Fed Ex guy in?” Mitch returned. “At least he seems to take the work seriously. That’s a plus these days.”

  The kitchen began to fill up when Jackson walked in by himself. “You aren’t going to believe who showed up at my door this morning before six o’clock.” Without waiting for anyone to play a guessing game, he went on, “Wendy Hollister. That scene in the bar Prentiss overheard is turning out to be prophetic. Oakerson’s nowhere to be found. Wendy says he hasn’t been at home or work the past two days and hasn’t called or texted. You know what that means.”

  Mitch rubbed the stubble on his chin. “So the cannibals are beginning to eat their own. I’d think Wendy would be frantic. Did you put the fear of God in her?”

  “No, just the state police. But she refuses to talk to the cops, any cops. That leaves us.”

  “You didn’t leave her alone, did you?” Mitch asked.

  “Are you kidding? I left Tessa there guarding Wendy, holding the SIG in one hand and the phone in the other.”

  Anniston and Garret walked in, overheard the last part. “What’s going on?”

  Debriefing them didn’t take long.

  “We need a place to keep her, a place no one knows about,” Anniston suggested. Inspiration hit and she turned to stare at Raine.

  Raine nodded knowingly. “It’ll work, even though the idea of having that bitch in my family’s vacation home down in Ramrod Key is totally repulsive to me. But it’s a good spot to keep her away from anyone else like Baskin or Sinclair. But who plays guard dog? Not me. I don’t trust myself alone with her.”

  “Walsh,” Mitch proposed as he picked up his cell phone.

  “Wait,” Raine said, latching on to his arm before he could place the call. “He’s a guy. What if Wendy bats those long lashes of hers at him and he caves like—”

  That’s as far as she got. Mitch choked out a laugh. “You don’t know Walsh. Long story. He’s immune, bad history there with trusting the wrong women. Wendy tries that with him, she’ll end up gagged and tied to a chair.”

  Raine burst out a laugh. “I’m beginning to love that guy already.”

  “Walsh will need directions to this cabin,” Jackson prompted.

  “No he won’t, not over land anyway,” Raine said. “What if he uses The Black Rum instead of driving?”

  Mitch thought it over. “It might be missed in the harbor.”

  “So what if it is?” Raine asked. “Greedy Sinclair and Baskin would probably think your crew left to hunt for the gold already.”

  “That’s true. Okay, why not? Ramrod Key isn’t all that far away. It should be fine. Maybe my crew won’t have to disembark to your family’s place after all. The boat and our witness might be easier contained inside a stateroom.”

  “Oh please, please, instruct Walsh to stick her in that mess where Dietrich and Nathan were. Please,” Anniston pleaded, all but shouting it. “Give Wendy the blood room.”

  Mitch’s lips curved up. He pivoted his look toward Garret. “Better watch out, little brother. This one has a wicked payback streak. I like it.”

  Garret went to the coffee machine, filled his mug almost to the brim. “That’s what I love about her. She knows the importance of making a statement.”

  “Which reminds me that I need to get back to Tessa,” Jackson stated with some worry. “I keep glancing at my cell phone to make sure Tessa hasn’t unloaded that pistol in Wendy’s direction. Tell Walsh he can pick up Wendy from Nana’s house whenever he considers it safe. He’ll have to do something with her car, though. I suggest parking it back at her house to raise the fewest red flags.”

  “Believe me, Walsh knows what to do. I trust him with my life because I’ve had to over the years,” Mitch assured them all.

  “Our news pales compared to having Wendy secured,” Garret noted. “Anniston and I heard from Sebastian. He’s already delivered the surveillance tape to the state police, stayed to watch it with Paul Briggs to make sure Briggs takes action.”

  “I feel in my heart that things are starting to shake and bake,” Anniston announced.

  “If only,” Mitch uttered with skepticism. “I’ll believe it when they slap the cuffs on our chief of police. I’m not even sure it’s possible. Sinclair’s one of them. Cops, all cops, stick up for each other. They get the benefit of the doubt.”

  Anniston laid a hand on his shoulder. “I know it’s tough to believe it, but have a little faith. Cops have a major dislike toward other dirty cops. Sebastian’s prodding Briggs to keep the door open there. He’s sticking around for a couple days to make sure the charges progress through the system with the state attorney’s office.”

  They had to wait several hours for Jackson and Tessa to unload Wendy on Walsh. When they did finally get back, Mitch wanted to know, “How’d it go with Mrs. Hollister?”

 
; “A lot of kicking and screaming and making a fuss in general,” Tessa answered. “That is one foul-mouthed woman. But I have to hand it to Walsh. He told her if she didn’t move her bony ass, he’d call Sinclair himself and turn her over to him. The threat worked, which speaks volumes to how scared she is of the local top cop.”

  “Good to know for down the road,” Mitch stated.

  “How soon before we start grilling her for details?” Raine asked.

  Mitch had already considered which course to take. “We let her stew for the first twenty-four hours with Walsh right outside her door. Whenever she starts to howl, he’ll make sure to remind her she’s hit a wall, that she’s completely out of options.”

  Jackson pulled out a soft drink from the fridge, popped the top. “Are we ready to sit down with the professor?”

  “Just waiting for you guys to join us,” Garret said, slapping his brother on the back. “Hollings has been itching to hold court in the dining room for the last hour. Got his stuff all spread out for the lecture.”

  “Then let’s get to it. I need to get my mind on something else other than a devious, calculating female.”

  Hollings’s face lit up when he saw his students filing in. “I’ve come across new information. It looks like the rendezvous point for the plot to kill FDR was scheduled a mile offshore. The navigational point was in line with Fort Clinch Beach. I’m certain of that, by the way. That’s where they were supposed to drop off the man slated to go onshore and make his way to Warm Springs from there.”

  Jackson found that idea fascinating. “So in 1945 a Nazi sub came calling that close to Florida’s shores? Amazing. You know that fort was only designated a public park in 1938. So it was probably not that crowded during the time this took place. It’s like the conspirators had firsthand knowledge that the spot would provide a perfect launch point for that kind of subversive act, away from a large city, no one around to detect the sub in the waters. Perfect,” he repeated.

  Curious, Garret threw out a question. “Was the sub supposed to wait around for the guy to come back? It’d be interesting to learn who that was.”

  Hollings thumbed back several pages. “That’s easy. Mühlhauser mentions the crewman’s name was Conrad Eisenbart. Mühlhauser notes that Eisenbart spoke perfect English because he was originally from the Florida area. That’s the reason he was handpicked for the job.”

  Mitch shook his head. “No Eisenbarts are on the island that I know of.”

  “They wouldn’t keep that name,” Anniston reminded him. “The family likely changed it after the war ended when it didn’t go well for their side.”

  “Right,” Mitch said in agreement. “So would there have been an official name change through the courts? I doubt it. Not back then. So the Nazi sympathizers will likely go undetected during our lifetime.”

  “There might be a way,” Anniston said. “Because we’re looking for really old tax records, Garret and I could go sit in the tax office and pore over the archives, see if there were ever any Eisenbarts anywhere around here circa pre-World War II.”

  Mitch looked at Garret. “That’s up to you, but it sounds like it’d be right up your alley.”

  “Maybe. But I’d rather get into that safe deposit box at the bank. Since that will take precise planning to pull it off, I’ll bide my time like a good boy and go to the tax office instead.”

  Hollings turned in his chair. “Look, guys, I’ve gone as far as I can with the simple translations. The rest of the diary uses those codes I mentioned. I just received the bulk of what I need this morning. Who knows what else the algorithms might reveal once I crack each section of the journal. It may even tell us the names of those Nazi sympathizers you’re looking for. All I can do is punch in the software data and see if I can break the code, see what pops up.”

  “Then that’s what you should do,” Mitch advised.

  Once Walsh got Wendy secured on board The Black Rum, it didn’t take long for him and the crew to grow tired of the woman’s tirades.

  “You can’t hold me here like this! I want to get off. I have a plane to catch! Take me back home this very minute!”

  It went on like that until Walsh shouted over her outburst, “Sit down, shut up, or I’ll call Sinclair myself. If he doesn’t want you, I’ll turn you over to Baskin, and I’ll go right down the list until I find someone interested in taking you off my hands. Got that?”

  Fortunately, she shut up. But later, when she complained about the food, Walsh picked up the phone and dialed Mitch.

  “This woman is a complete pain in the ass. How long do I have to babysit this fiend?”

  “Not long is probably too long for you guys. But we do have another ace in the hole left.”

  “Come up with it soon because even the threat of prison is wearing off. And I’m not certain how long I can keep her in line by telling her I’m calling Sinclair. I don’t think she believes me.”

  “Tell her the deal includes collecting on Nathan’s life insurance. Tell her that we’ll swear Nathan’s dead so she can collect his hefty two million dollars. That should keep her quiet for the next couple of days.”

  “And will you?”

  “Hell, no. That bitch can languish up in Broward where they keep the death row inmates for the next twenty years for all I care.”

  “Okay then. As long as we’re on the same page.”

  As soon as Mitch hung up the phone his mother was waiting to talk to him.

  In a low voice she said, “Let’s step outside in the backyard for a minute, away from the house.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Once they reached the spot where she liked to read, she turned to him and said, “I don’t make a habit of interfering in the lives of my children. Not even when I saw how unhappy Livvy was did I make it a point to stick my nose into her business. I’d politely ask how things were and leave it at that. When her answer was almost always the same, I didn’t question her about it. I realize now I should have. A mother wants the best for her kids. Always. So I brought you out here to ask about Raine. You two are obviously seeing each other again. Does that mean you’ve decided to stay on island when this is all over?”

  “Mom, it’s complicated.”

  “Does Raine know that?”

  “She knows I love her and we’re trying to find some kind of common ground to build on. But she keeps insisting she can’t leave the island because of her responsibilities to her mother. Even though I know she isn’t happy running the restaurant.” He shuffled his feet, looked around the yard as if the answer might be in the honeysuckle vines.

  “Go ahead, tell me the rest,” Lenore prompted. “I know when something’s bothering you. I’ve never seen you so tense. It isn’t like you to be anything but direct with us.”

  “These past few days, I’ve tried to think of the best possible way to tell you and Dad about it. I guess the direct approach will have to do. Take a seat on your bench there and get comfortable.”

  Lenore eyed him with open interest. “So that bad, huh? I have to sit down? Okay…might as well tell me straight up what’s bothering you.”

  Once he built up his courage, Mitch told her about Baby Taylor.

  “Why didn’t she come to me? I didn’t hear a rumor or a thing about it back then, not a thing.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Is there some kind of higher power at work that keeps me from having my grandchildren around me?”

  “Mom…”

  Lenore sniffled, drew out a Kleenex she’d stuffed in her pocket and wiped her nose. “I’ll be all right. I have to tell your father.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. How do you think I felt when Raine finally got around to telling me?”

  “You must’ve felt like you’d been hit by a cement truck.”

  “Something like that. If I’d had a clue…maybe…”

  She patted the space on the bench next to her, watched him plop down. “So many secrets floating around this town. I’ve always heard that everyone has them. But you wak
e up every day in the same place and somehow fail to see what’s right next door or right in front of you. All these years, Mitch, I had no idea. How many times did I run into The Blue Taco after work for a to-go order for supper? Too many. How many times did I see Raine around town while I was running my errands? Hundreds. She never said a word to me. I guess that explains why she’s been so angry with you.”

  “Angry, yes. But how could I have known? Was I supposed to play twenty questions each time I hit town? Even then, I wouldn’t have guessed that was the reason. Am I stupid because it never occurred to me?”

  Lenore took her son by the hand as if to offer some solace. “She was so young. You mustn’t think she purposely went out of her way to deceive you.”

  “I was angry after she finally told me. I could give her the benefit of the doubt for the first two or three years, but after that…it was difficult. Turns out, Marla kept my letters from getting to her. I don’t know how she managed that, but she did. After that, our relationship, such as it was, seemed destined to fail, especially since she harbored such resentment toward me.”

  Lenore started to speak, then didn’t know what to say. After several long seconds, she finally got the words out. “Marla is not well.” She tapped the side of her head. “Up here. I’ve seen it getting worse. Once Danny died, she slipped into some kind of non-functioning role where all she wants to do is sit on the sofa and watch TV. Without Raine to run that eatery, there won’t be a restaurant.”

  “I refuse to believe that. There are any number of solutions. Marla could hire a manager, someone other than Raine. Charlotte could easily step into that job, let Maddie continue to run the kitchen. Raine doesn’t have to stay stuck there.”

  Lenore rubbed his back. “Now you just have to convince Raine there’s life out there after The Blue Taco.”

  Chapter Fifteen - Justice

  Very early in life, the young man who’d started out his life as Roger Thornton, learned how to survive with his wits and fists. That chimerical world of his started out roaming the streets down in the French Quarter between Simon Bolivar and La Salle. He couldn’t have been more than nine when he tried his hand at petty theft. Running with a pack of neighborhood kids like himself, stealing came easy. Having a father in Angola gave the boy a lot of instant street cred.