The Indigo Brothers Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vickie McKeehan

  Young Roger caught on at home how to handle women. Long before his father got shipped off to prison, his parents didn’t much care for each other and showed it by creating a tempest of domestic conflict that would follow him around for the rest of his life. His personal relationships were doomed to crumble each time he chose a quick backhand that always ended in that first ugly purple bruise.

  Those same fists had him fighting his way into the Biloxi branch of the Dixie mafia. As a mob enforcer he’d done his share of dirty deeds—executed a rival, kidnapped a drug dealer, collected debts. But not since coming to Indigo Key had he really hit his stride in that department.

  Establishing himself as a businessman had been easy. He’d talked his way into Royce’s favor, then won him over enough to get a string of business loans. These days, he owned the busiest car repair shop in town, a body shop that never had to advertise, and a used car lot where customers had their pick of late-model gems. Money streamed in. He used it to gamble at various casinos, to bed all the hookers he could get, and run a little scheme or two on the side that no one knew about.

  Many times since coming to the island and morphing into a respectable fellow, he’d been on the cusp of full-blown success, the success he felt he deserved. But it seemed he always lacked the funds, even if his benefactor, Royce, let him live in his guest cottage rent-free. His lifestyle could be taxing, especially when he lost big at blackjack or craps or blew it on thousand-dollar call girls.

  That’s why to accomplish what he wanted and ice the cake with a tasty cream topping, he’d had to become what amounted to a flunky to the town’s wealthiest resident.

  Managing the old guy’s properties was okay. He could live with it, knowing there was a certain prestige to the job. But driving the old man around town like a chauffeur was a slap in the face. He knew people laughed at him behind his back for doing it.

  Maybe that’s why he’d gone out of his way to bed the man’s precious daughter, Winnie. He’d given Winnie her first drink—frothy margaritas with plenty of tequila, laced with a little ecstasy. Who knew the girl couldn’t hold her alcohol or her drugs? But over time, she’d gotten better at it, too good, turning into a raging, spitting drunk, especially when she was pissed.

  Killing Winnie Buchanan hadn’t been part of the plan. But when she’d started trying to push him into marriage, that had been her death knell. No one was going to tie down Roger Baskin. Her old man’s money had been a huge temptation. He couldn’t deny that part. But to hook up with someone like Winnie, with a mean mouth on her, just wasn’t going to happen. No one told him what to do or when to do it. Not Winnie Buchanan or some snot-nosed tourist who’d believed Walker’s promise to cut him in on a share of the gold. Yeah, like that was ever gonna happen.

  And when Oakerson began shooting his mouth off in a public place, the mayor had signed his own execution. Stupid bastard.

  No one could ever accuse Roger Thornton Baskin of gladly suffering fools. He didn’t like stupid people. And to him, Oakerson headed the class right up there next to Walker. Maybe now the two were somewhere holding hands in the dumbass section.

  Tonight inside the guesthouse, he met with his friend, Boone Dandridge, and the chief of police, who hadn’t exactly been invited, but had chosen to butt in just the same.

  “I knew something was up when Dietrich went MIA,” Sinclair told the others. “That’s why I went along with Duarte’s plan to kidnap the little taco queen. It makes me look like a genius now since Duarte’s claiming he offed Dietrich.”

  “Do you think it’s true?”

  “Are you willing to call Duarte a liar?” Sinclair asked. “Not me.”

  “So what do we do without Dietrich running the show?” Boone wanted to know.

  “Kiss Duarte’s ass,” Sinclair recommended. “That’s what I intend to do. I want my share of that gold and no one, but no one, is cutting me out. You should adopt that same attitude.”

  “Those Indigos just keep pushing, nosing around.”

  “Maybe they’ll make a mistake and I’ll get to shoot them. I particularly don’t like that little bastard, the surfer. Every time I see him I think, ‘just give me a reason.’”

  “I thought they’d get bored with this whole thing and be gone back to where they came from,” Baskin commented. “Who knew they’d stick it out this long.”

  “I told you those three would be a problem,” Boone said.

  Sinclair groaned low in his throat. “Yeah, you also thought you had their old fart of a dad figured out. Then four dumbasses show up on their doorstep trying to convince him Livvy took off. That might’ve been the stupidest part of this whole thing yet.”

  Sinclair sneered particularly hard at Dandridge. “Your idea went south fast, didn’t it? I’m glad I wasn’t there to see you guys embarrass yourselves like that. You should’ve at least presented it better. I would have.”

  Tired of listening to his bragging, Boone set his jaw. “You weren’t around though, were you? My reputation’s at stake here. I’ve already lost a small group of my congregation, half a dozen or so, strongly influenced by Tanner and Lenore. I can’t afford to have my good name dragged—”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, shut your pie hole!” Sinclair bellowed. “Quit blubbering on about yourself. You’re not the only one who has a rep to worry about. At least you have a job no matter what. I’m up for re-election next spring. People are beginning to flap their gums about me. I’ve got deputies who look at me different these days.”

  Baskin tried to get them to settle down. He had to shout over the din. “That’s why we got involved in this. I knew Dietrich would figure out a way to screw this whole thing up. But he just couldn’t leave it alone with Hugo.”

  Sweat beaded on Boone’s forehead. “If we can’t wangle our way into Duarte’s confidence, we have to devise a plan to get on board that ship. I’m not sitting back and watching anyone take my share of the gold after everything I’ve done to get this far. Although I still don’t understand why we had to take such extreme measures with the Buchanans.”

  Sinclair laughed. “Are you kidding? Baskin had been itching to put that sniveling little coward Walker in his place for years. Am I right?”

  Baskin grinned. “His wife put up more a fight than he did.”

  “Good thing I got me a piece of that before we finished her off,” Sinclair boasted.

  “You finished her off,” Baskin corrected. “And left Boone and me to clean up the aftermath.”

  Sinclair raised his middle finger toward the mechanic. “Hey, I’m the one who woke the mayor up at two in the morning to let us use one of his touring boats. My little fishing craft would never have handled the weight.”

  “I don’t know why we have to rehash this,” Boone said. “We should just play cards or something instead of talking about it.”

  But Sinclair refused to let it go. “You sure you boys cleaned up everything that night like I told you? Exactly like I told you. Nathan wasn’t sure you could get the job done.”

  Baskin clenched his teeth and snarled, “Screw Nathan. Carson and I spent practically all night cleaning up while Boone got rid of the van. No one will ever find anything even if they go to the body shop. And why would they bother to look there now? The damn Indigos may suspect us, but they sure as hell don’t have the goods to nail us for anything.”

  Across town, inside the Indigo house, the entire conversation captured the room in a spellbound state of shock. They listened in stunned silence as each word sent chills through the room. In the humidity, the temperature felt like it dropped a full ten degrees.

  Lenore began to cry. Tanner swore, clenching his fists at his side.

  Filled with anger, hurt, tension, the rage ran hot as the implication of the confession slammed into each of them.

  Anniston’s eyes misted over. “When Sebastian bugged the cottage, this is the kind of results we were hoping for. I know it rips your heart out hearing it like this but…”

  “We always
suspected Dandridge was right there when Sinclair and Baskin murdered them, now we know for certain,” Mitch said as his eyes glistened with tears, his outlook full of hate. He looked at Raine. “Carson helped them clean up.”

  The horror hadn’t fully settled over her when Raine repeated what she’d heard out loud. “So Sinclair raped Livvy. I wonder if Nathan knew that part. They confessed right on tape. I’ve known these men my entire life. They’re horrible monsters, all of them.”

  “We all have,” Mitch stated, beginning to go numb. “We have to take these guys down, once and for all, so they’ll never be able to do anything like this to anyone else. The state police may drag their feet, but we can’t afford to wait. We need to up the pressure. Now. Find a way to lure them into some kind of trap.”

  Raine gripped his hand. “They all talked about it so casually, as if it were an everyday kind of thing—murder an entire family, little children. Maybe they’ve killed before that night.”

  “Absolutely. We suspect Boone’s killed before. Willis Hartman,” Anniston pointed out, her voice cracking with emotion. “Maybe Royce was right. Maybe Sinclair did do something to Darla Pendleton all those years ago.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” Raine amended. “Their coldness tells me they’ve all killed right here before.”

  “I was hoping they’d mention Ryan. That we’d get them on tape confessing to that,” Tessa said, her voice bleak, her tone filled with grief. “I understand their mindset a little more now. But I still wonder why Ryan had to die. Couldn’t they have just run him out of town or something?”

  “Not these guys,” Jackson said, taking her hand. “They weren’t about to share the gold.”

  “I know that part. But I guess I may never know all of it. I mean, how does Ryan lose his life over a treasure they hadn’t even found yet? The same goes for Livvy and Walker and those babies. What in the world did they do that they had to kill all these people?”

  Jackson stroked her hair. “I promise you we’ll find out the reason before this is finished. But you might as well get ready to settle for knowing that it was all about the gold, the power of it, and ego. Look at each man involved in this. Sinclair, Baskin, and Dandridge exhibit your basic narcissistic psychopathic characteristics. Everything is about them. Rules don’t apply. They think they’re entitled, they’re even above the law.”

  Tessa chewed her lip. “That certainly applies to the three you mentioned. I get the sense Oakerson and Frawley are simply followers.”

  “Simple maybe, but still dangerous,” Jackson said in agreement. “I’m with Mitch on this. We have to do whatever it takes to bring these people down who’ve operated in this town for way too long. We need to get our hands on their DNA.”

  Mitch traded looks with Raine. “We already have Sinclair’s. That cup we gave Anniston for testing came from him.”

  “And I sent the cup in the day you gave it to me. Whatever comes back, though, it won’t hold up in court because it came from you, and you’re not a member of law enforcement. But it will give us the ammunition we need to get the state cops to act.”

  Anniston went on to volunteer a theory. “I think Baskin and Sinclair have a screw loose. I also think those two in particular have a major grudge against Buchanan. It translates to what Prentiss overheard that night in the bar. Something has always bothered me about Winnie Buchanan’s death. I should have dug deeper into that. I knew it was too great a coincidence that she died ten months before Walker did. Now we know for certain Walker died at the hands of Baskin and Sinclair. I’m not sure these murders that night were all about getting the location of those papers out of Walker and Livvy. I think Baskin had been looking for an excuse to get rid of both Winnie and Walker for quite some time. The night Winnie died, I suspect an opportunity arose when she was coming back from Key Largo after dining out with friends. It was too convenient for Baskin to pass it up.”

  “Cunning and sneaky how Baskin managed to somehow pull it off and made it look like an accident,” Raine said, chills running down her arms at the notion. “If we could find out where Baskin was that night, it might sink him for good.”

  “I intend to find that connection,” Anniston promised. “If I have to, I’ll dig into his credit card statements, illegally, of course.”

  Garret’s brow wrinkled, a look of puzzlement filled his face. “But guys, don’t we have enough on our plates without adding Winnie Buchanan into the mix?”

  “Maybe so, but the more charges we’re able to heap on these guys, the better off we’ll be,” Anniston reminded him.

  “I think Royce should hear that tape.”

  All eyes turned to stare at Tanner as if they couldn’t believe the suggestion came from him.

  Anniston choked out a response. “That sounds like a definite change of heart on your part.”

  “Slight change of heart,” Tanner corrected and told them about the plan he’d devised on his own. “I’m convinced Royce will do his part. That’s why I think Anniston should make a copy of the tape and let him listen to it. Just in case he thought I was full of hot air earlier, he’ll know the truth for himself. Don’t take it into his house, though. It’s too dangerous to meet there with Baskin nearby on the premises. I don’t trust that crazy rat bastard. You should make sure it’s a neutral spot, somewhere spontaneous out of the public eye.”

  “I don’t like sending Anniston there alone,” Garret tossed out. “I’ll go with her.”

  Anniston chewed her bottom lip. “No, it’s better if you aren’t there. It makes the stronger case if I meet with him like I have in the past—without any Indigos around to butt heads with him.”

  “Fine, but I won’t be far away,” Garret vowed.

  She put a hand to his face. “That’s what I like to hear.”

  Across the room, Mitch heard what sounded like water rushing through his ears. He saw his father’s mouth moving but couldn’t quite make out the words. Something about listening to Sinclair’s voice. It grated and buzzed through his head like a freight train whizzing by at a high rate of speed. He’d tried to latch on to what it meant but couldn’t quite narrow down the distant memory and pull it into full focus. It flared in his brain from when he was a kid. He blinked to clear his head, clear his mind.

  Next to him, Raine waved her hand in front of his face. “Mitch, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

  “I…I don’ know. I just…I don’t know,” he repeated. “I guess…I’m having trouble processing the fact they confessed. It’s one thing to suspect those guys. It’s quite another to hear them laugh about it with your own ears and know what they did. Listening to them has me seeing red.” But that wasn’t it, not entirely anyway.

  She placed her lips on his. “It’ll be okay. I’m here for you. I’ll do whatever’s necessary to help you get them behind bars.”

  “Could we get out of here?” Mitch suggested abruptly.

  “Sure. Are you certain you’re okay?”

  Instead of saying anything else, he grabbed her hand. “Come on, I need some air.” He led her out of the house into the night, taking several deep breaths along the way. Once he reached the back patio, he turned to her and simply buckled.

  She caught him up in her arms. “I’m so sorry.” Holding him, she whispered a few soothing words. “It’s okay to cry. Cry it all out.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible. I’m…numb.” There was something else going on inside him he couldn’t identify. But for now, he leaned on Raine. Not knowing what else to do, he wrapped her up.

  “Do you think Lenore and Tanner would mind if we went back to my place?” she prompted.

  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  Chapter Sixteen - Justice

  For the meeting with Royce, Anniston decided not to go alone. She persuaded Raine and Tessa to participate again. After setting it all up, the night began at the marina. It was like a scavenger hunt.

  For starters, Anniston directed Royce to leave his office and use a
taxi to arrive at the harbor. She caustioned him to make sure he wasn’t followed.

  Once he arrived, he hobbled over to her Ford Explorer and got inside. “Is all this subterfuge really necessary?”

  “We think so,” Anniston stated, as she took off heading to the other side of town. They ended up at one of Royce’s rental properties, vacant since summer, and well away from Baskin’s car repair shop or city hall. “You brought the key, right?”

  “I’m not an idiot,” he snarled. “There’s a car over there without its headlights on,” Royce noted as soon as he lifted himself out of the car.

  “Nothing wrong with your vision,” Raine muttered as she took hold of his arm. “Someone’s keeping an eye out for us.”

  “Three someones I’m guessing,” Royce mumbled. “When do you plan to tell me what this is all about?”

  “I don’t mean to be so mysterious but there’s something you need to listen to. Bugging your guest cottage finally paid off.”

  Royce’s face looked drained as he took out the key and handed it over to Anniston. “Why didn’t you say so before now?”

  With Raine on one side of him and Tessa on the other, the two women helped him maneuver the dark sidewalk and the steps up to the front porch. They waited while Anniston dealt with the lock.

  She hurried in ahead of everyone else, flipping on lights as she went. She checked room by room to make certain the house was indeed empty before ending up back at the living room. Since the rental came furnished, she watched as Raine and Tessa led Royce over to the couch. After plopping him down there, the women settled in around him.

  Anniston took out a small recorder, placed it on the coffee table, and slipped in a little micro-sized tape. “I want you to listen all the way through, no interruptions. If you don’t think you’re up to it, tell me now. I’ll warn you right off that it won’t be easy to listen to and what you’re about to hear will make you angry. But I don’t want to cause you to have another episode with your heart.”