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The Indigo Brothers Trilogy Boxed Set

Page 82

by Vickie McKeehan


  “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. Just turn the damn thing on.”

  Anniston pushed the button, sat back and listened to the replay of the men’s voices as the ugly words filled up the air. She watched the old guy’s face. She knew hearing them discuss Livvy’s death and that of the children wouldn’t get much of a reaction, so she waited for Sinclair to mention Walker and for Baskin to respond.

  “How dare that son of a bitch call my son a sniveling coward!” Royce thundered, full of rage. His forehead popped out in sweat. His vision blurred as rage blinded him. “I’ll kill him! No, I’ll kill them all!”

  Anniston patted his hand. “I’m afraid there’s more.”

  Raine found her nerve to speak up. “A lot more. Anniston uncovered something we all overlooked. Baskin and Winnie were involved in a hot and heavy affair. Without telling you too much, let’s just say there’s evidence in Baskin’s credit cards that proves it. We think something went south with their relationship. Whatever it was, it was enough to make Baskin stage Winnie’s car wreck that night to look like an accident. We don’t think it was.”

  Royce’s eyes continued to glaze over with fury along with steely determination. He stared at Anniston. “That explains a great deal.”

  “Really? Well, Baskin’s credit card statements reveal several interesting transactions. Over the course of two years, he regularly ordered Winnie flowers from the florist in town. Sage Lowery remembers each one because the roses went to your daughter with a sweet card attached.”

  “Roger doesn’t strike me as that kind of a romantic,” Raine pointed out. “He strikes me as cold and calculating. I don’t think he’d go to that trouble unless he had an ulterior motive.”

  Anniston nodded and went on, “There were lots of credit card transactions showing Roger and Winnie often went out for candlelight suppers at Romano’s in Key Largo, never here in town though, always somewhere that the hookup wouldn’t get back to you. I’m thinking that was orchestrated for a reason.”

  Royce clutched his stomach. “Had I known, I would’ve demanded Winnie stop having any contact with him at all. I’d have gotten rid of the lying scum!”

  Anniston cut her eyes toward Raine and Tessa before turning back to Royce. “Naturally, we’ve put our heads together to try and come up with a reason you’d be so opposed to the match. The logical explanation is that you already knew about Baskin’s mob enforcer days, knew he wasn’t good enough to go out with your daughter and never would be no matter what he did. You don’t strike me as the type of businessman who’d let someone live in your guesthouse without doing a thorough background check on them. How long have you known about Roger’s past?”

  Royce’s eyes drifted to all three women. “I…I…all…right…I knew. So what? I didn’t expect him to set his sights on my Winnie, not like that. He told me once he wasn’t the type of man to settle down with one woman. That alone made him undesirable. He had a reputation for cavorting with loose women, hookers, and the like. It was one thing to have him as my driver, quite another to let him become a member of the family. Besides, I’d never stand by and let him kill my baby girl or my son.” He tapped his cane on the floor for emphasis. “How do you think he could’ve killed my daughter and made it look like she wrecked the car?”

  “Truthfully, no idea. My guess would be that he beat her just as he did Walker, then put her back in the car. He did what he could to stage the scene to look as though she’d had too much to drink and ran off the road. Who investigated this so-called accident?”

  Royce’s face paled at the memory. “Sinclair. He claimed he’d been up in Key Largo that night fishing with a buddy and just happened by the scene.”

  “There you go. Very convenient. You’ll likely never know the truth unless you have the case reopened. I hate to say it again, but keep in mind you’re the one responsible for bringing Baskin into your fold, into your home, into your business. He wouldn’t have had access to your children without you letting him in the front door. He’s here masquerading as a legitimate businessman on the money you loaned him.” Anniston leveled a finger at his nose. “Think about that. Now you have to do your part to rid the town of them all.”

  “I already told Tanner I’d do whatever he wanted me to do.”

  Raine discovered it wasn’t so hard to stand up to a Buchanan after all. “You keep saying that. Now it’s time to prove it.”

  Sitting across the street in the pickup, the brothers held their vigil in silence as they kept an eye out for Sinclair or Baskin.

  As Garret sat there, though, he eyed Mitch’s demeanor. He and Jackson had talked about their brother’s odd behavior over the past twenty-four hours. Thinking it had to do with Raine, they’d agreed to leave the guy alone in his own deep thoughts. But the more reserved Mitch became, the more it bugged Garret. If it was about Raine, then he should be able to needle out an explanation. But he didn’t think this mood was about Raine at all. The more he thought about it, the more it irritated him. He wondered if now might be the perfect time to get at the truth.

  After another thirty minutes ticked by and Mitch’s sulky mood dragged on, Garret had had enough. He angled in his seat to stare at his brother. “What gives with you? You haven’t said two words to anyone since you heard that tape last night. What’s going on in that brain of yours?”

  Mitch clenched his jaw. “You’ll think I’m crazy.”

  “Probably, because you are crazy. Come on, Sally, man up. Tell us what’s bothering you.”

  “Besides the fact that those assholes killed our sister’s family, wiped them out like the monsters they are?”

  “Yeah, besides that,” Jackson replied, scooting up from the backseat to look over the console. “Something’s on your mind. Might as well spit it out.”

  Mitch sat there a full minute deciding whether or not to unburden what had festered inside him for the past day. Finally, he huffed out a breath and said, “Okay. Here’s the deal. I heard Sinclair’s voice on that tape and it triggered something inside me, a memory maybe. I don’t know.”

  “You’ve talked to Sinclair lots of times. Did it ever get to you like that before?” Garret asked.

  “No. That’s why it’s crazy and probably means absolutely nothing.”

  “You’re not this upset over nothing,” Jackson stated. “Your surly mood is starting to piss me off.”

  Mitch struggled for the right tone. “Like I said, Sinclair’s voice sparked this snippet from childhood, a memory of him...”

  “I have memories of that old coot bullying half a dozen people around town,” Garret prompted. “I saw it with my own eyes. So what?”

  “It probably means nothing. I was too young—”

  “Jeez, what is it with you? A memory of him doing what exactly?” Jackson snapped, his patience waning.

  “I was probably around seven or eight. I’d gone off exploring even though Mom had specifically told me not todragging Garret along because he vowed to tell Mom if I didn’t take him with me.”

  “I learned early to use that threat. It was great leverage. Worked every time, too,” Garret boasted with pride.

  Mitch sent him a look of impatience. “Do you want to hear this or not?”

  Garret held up a hand. “Touchy, aren’t you? Go ahead.”

  “There’s this image I have in my head. Garret and I are standing on the bank near the bridge coming into town hunting for river rocks.”

  Garret nodded. “We did that a lot back then. Used to pick up the smooth ones. Those were best for skipping on top of the water.”

  Mitch leveled another annoyed gaze at his brother. “Will you shut up for five seconds? It’s tough enough to talk about this as it is without you interrupting every five seconds.”

  “Then spit it out already,” Garret demanded. “Stop acting like a diva who can’t talk about it because it’s too painful.”

  “Okay. I’m standing on this little ridge looking down across the water when I hear a car coming up on th
e blacktop below us at a high rate of speed. I duck down and make Garret do the same because I don’t want either one of us to get caught. Pretty soon I watch a squad car screech to a stop underneath the trestle near the shoreline. There’s not another soul around when I see a much younger Sinclair get out of his police cruiser like he’s pissed off about something. I mean really angry. He skirts the hood real fast and goes around to the back door on the passenger side and yanks this woman out of the car by her hair. Her feet hit the dirt like she’s already struggling to stand up. Maybe she’s been drugged. I don’t know. But he doesn’t let her gain her legs before he hauls off and slaps her right across the mouth. It knocks her down to the ground. Now that I think about it, they might’ve been having sex. He jumps on her, and then wraps his hands around her throat. I see him, clear as day, sitting on top of her. Sinclair wearing his uniform, the woman’s got on this dark blue business suit, dark high heels. She’s kicking and doing her best to scream, but it’s not doing one bit of good because Sinclair is much bigger and he doesn’t let up. At some point she must’ve had her brown hair put up on her head in one of those twist things women like to do. But during the struggle with Sinclair, it all comes loose and hangs down around her shoulders. I see it all through a young kid’s eyes like I’m terrified and don’t know what to do. I see that he’s hurting her but I don’t know if I should run to get help or simply run away to protect myself and Garret because I know Sinclair’s done something really bad and we need to get out of there to keep him from coming after us.”

  “Did he see you, Sinclair?” Jackson wanted to know.

  “I don’t think so. No,” he added, thinking back. “But I tell you one thing, I was almost too scared to move. I kept my hand over Garret’s mouth the entire time to keep him from talking a-mile-a-minute like Chatty Cathy and blowing our cover. That’s how terrified I was.”

  “You’d know it if Sinclair had spotted the two of you,” Jackson declared with a nod of his head. “He’d have gone after you at some point because you and Garret were just two little kids, playing at the wrong spot at the wrong time. Two little kids who witnessed him beating up a woman. It stands to reason you’d be scared watching an adult—someone you’d been told to respect—treat a woman like that.”

  “I don’t think he beat her up, Jackson. I think he killed her right in front of me.”

  All kidding gone, Garret angled in his seat. “What was the name of that woman Anniston mentioned who’d gone missing back in ’92?”

  “Darla Pendleton. But why would I remember it now, so vividly? Why not ten years ago, five? Why am I just now seeing it so clearly? I don’t remember saying a word about it to Mom or Dad or anyone else for that matter. And now, I can’t stop thinking back to that day. I even recall cautioning Garret to keep his mouth shut about it.”

  “Want my opinion?” Jackson asked.

  “Do I have a choice?” Mitch snarked.

  “Not really. I think it’s because of all the stress you’ve been under lately. Coming back here dealing with all the sadness over Livvy and the kids, then finding out about Raine’s miscarriage, then having to face all those emotions that come with it. I think all of it’s caused a flood of feelings you had about your past here in town. All those demons have come rushing to the surface. Part of it includes this memory from childhood.”

  In a voice barely above a whisper, Garret asked, “Do you think he buried her, right then and there, underneath the bridge?”

  “I don’t know. But maybe we should go out there and dig at the same spot where I remember the attack taking place, the exact place I saw Sinclair last with the woman,” Mitch suggested.

  “We could do that,” Jackson said.

  When Mitch looked up and saw Raine along with the others emerge from the rental, he started the engine. He realized he needed to talk to her as soon as possible. There were things he needed to explain.

  After breaking away from everyone else, Mitch was finally able to pull Raine back to the houseboat so they could be alone. But after all his bluster, it took him a good twenty minutes to work up the courage to start talking.

  “What’s the matter, Mitch? You’ve been acting weird since last night. I know what you heard on the tape is disturbing but…”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Are you upset that I went to meet with Royce?”

  “What? No.” He rubbed his forehead, realizing this was harder to get out than he’d first thought because it just sounded flat out crazy. “After years of avoiding it, I think I know why I wanted out of this town so much.”

  Her stomach dropped. She got a sinking feeling in her heart. “Uh, okay. Are you about to tell me you’ve discovered it’s really me you want to—”

  “Of course not,” he snapped. “When will you get that out of your head for good? Stop thinking that way. It wasn’t you. It’s all on me.”

  “Oh, jeez. Are you breaking up with me again?”

  “No. Raine, listen to me. What I’m about to tell you is likely to sound improbable and maybe a little crazy, but it hit me when we sat there and listened to that tape. Hearing Sinclair’s voice triggered something in me, a memory from when I was a kid. I can’t explain it. For a man who goes off to hunt treasure based on nothing but charts and a gut feeling, I haven’t been able to fully wrap my mind around this. So bear with me.”

  “Okay. Then you’d better just spit it out because you’re really freaking me out here.”

  “Fine.” He went through the backstory, the logistics of how he and Garret had ended up underneath the bridge. “We were standing on the embankment, not the lowest part but a little ridge where we’d had some success looking for river rocks before that day. But as we’re searching and pawing through the runoff from the marsh, I get distracted once I hear a car coming up fast over the bridge. It’s a police car. The driver backs up and I remember hoping that he won’t stay for long. But no such luck because he’s only backing up to hit the turnoff that leads below the trestle. Garret and I take cover so whoever it is doesn’t see us there. Pretty soon I see Sinclair get out of his squad car near the water’s edge. Even as young as I am I can tell he’s royally upset about something. I mean, I see his eyes and they’re stone-cold and bulging with rage. He rounds the hood and goes around to the back, pulls this woman out of the backseat. Her feet hit the dirt like her body won’t hold her upright. After thinking about it, I’m pretty sure he’d drugged her. But he doesn’t give her any time at all to right herself before he hauls off and starts beating the crap out of her. She finally drops to the ground from the blows. He falls on top of her and I’m pretty sure they start having sex. Next thing I see is that his hands are wrapped around her throat. Tight. And he doesn’t let up. I see him kill her, Raine. He’s sitting there on top of her stomach, wearing his lousy uniform, while the life drains out of this woman.”

  “Oh, my God. You saw all that? Oh, my God.” She snapped her fingers. “What was the name of that woman Anniston mentioned who went missing? Darla Pendleton. How old did you say you were?”

  “Yeah, the time frame fits. I was probably seven and it left an impression on me. Garret remembers that I started having nightmares around that time. Mom had to come in and calm me down almost every night after that. I don’t know how Garret remembers something like that from five years old but he swears he does.”

  “My first memory was at three,” Raine offered. “So it’s more than likely Garret remembers more than he thinks he does about the incident.”

  “Not like I do. I still see the woman’s blue outfit, her dark shoes, her brown hair sinking into the wet dirt. She’s kicking and fighting, trying to scream, but it’s not doing one bit of good because no one’s around to hear her except two little boys who are too scared to do anything, not just of what happened, but of the man, Sinclair. She doesn’t have a chance at winning against him because he’s much bigger and stronger and he doesn’t let up. I see him take her life and I’m too petrified to move and don’t know what
to do next. I should’ve run to get help or told someone.”

  He saw a tear drop down on his shirt. “Maybe if I’d have said something back then to my mom or dad, Livvy might still be alive today.”

  “Surely you don’t really believe that,” Raine murmured, pulling him to her. She caressed his hair, trying to comfort that idea away. “You were a frightened little boy, a child. You probably weren’t even sure what you saw exactly.”

  “I knew enough that something bad had happened.”

  “And this is why you couldn’t wait to leave this place?”

  “I think so. Consider it from a kid’s point of view, a kid who sees a cop, the top cop, murder a woman forty yards from where he’s rock hunting with his kid brother. It stuck with me, must’ve made such a lasting impression with me and not in a good way. From that point forward, I associated Sinclair with a monster, a very bad guy in a position of authority that I wanted, no, needed, to get away from, even if that meant leaving you behind. I’m sorry,” he added quietly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t the man you thought I was.”

  She kissed his mouth and then said, “While I see your point, you shouldn’t beat yourself up about it. You and your brothers are doing everything you can now to see that Sinclair is locked up. I think that has to be enough for that little seven-year-old who couldn’t process what he saw. No child should ever witness such a violent crime.”

  She stood up, took his hand. “I think we should go to bed. Tomorrow will have its own challenges. That’s enough for tonight.”

  Later, their bodies slick, they snuggled together, skin to skin. He brushed a hand down her thigh then up to her belly where she’d carried their son. “Every inch of you is so incredibly beautiful.”

  “I’ve put on five pounds since last summer.”

 

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