The Indigo Brothers Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vickie McKeehan

  “I know what happened,” Raine said stubbornly. “Sinclair’s on the loose and no one knows where he is.”

  “It’s a lot more than that,” Mitch said, relating each detail, starting with the explosion at the Dalfourth House.

  Raine’s mouth fell open. “I thought that was thunder. It rattled the window panes.”

  “Not weather related. Once Tag and his guys got there it didn’t take them long to put out the blaze. The fire’s still smoldering, a total loss, completely destroyed both floors. And afterward, when we were standing on the lawn, you could smell burning flesh emanating from the ashes. We hung around long enough to see the firemen dig out three charred bodies. Most likely, Briggs is dead, so is Vargas, and the guy who helped Sinclair get out of jail, Turner Grey.”

  “We’re thinking Turner must’ve been the mole inside the state police headquarters back in Tallahassee,” Jackson added. “Sinclair knew him from his days as a trooper. His position there made sure Grey could keep the heat off Sinclair by intervening whenever necessary and still be able to take his cut from all the corruption in town. As a silent partner he’d be able to keep his hands in everything from the capitol.”

  Raine wanted to make sure she was hearing it all correctly. “So Jessup killed Grey even though the guy broke him out of jail? Talk about ruthless.”

  “Sinclair is ruthless and he’s still out there. It wasn’t his body they pulled out of Dalfourth House. He was never going to share the gold with Turner Grey,” Garret explained. “Turner was doomed the moment he set foot in Indigo Key with Briggs and Vargas, especially after the two were forced to subdue Sinclair, creating that very public spectacle at The Blue Taco when they helped the troopers drag him out of there.”

  Tanner appeared in the doorway, yawning. “Did you find Sinclair?”

  “We were just talking about that,” Jackson answered, catching his dad up on the story. “After we left Dalfourth House we went to Nathan’s to look for the key to get into the bank.”

  “He had a safe,” Garret began. “One of those wall unit outfits with a code number. Piece of cake.”

  “Okay, so what was in the safe deposit box?” Tanner wanted to know.

  Mitch took out a document, stretched his long legs out on the sofa, bone-tired. “A variety of things. First, and the most interesting, is this old Spanish land grant made out to Koda Indigo, dated 1716, and signed by Philip V, King of Spain.”

  “Let me see that,” Tanner said. “This belongs to me. What the hell is Nathan Hollister doing with it?”

  “In order to answer that completely, you have to go back to Koda’s day when Spain owned the land we now live on and all of Florida. Then in 1819 the United States acquired this area through a treaty for zero money. In order to cut the deal, the U.S. had to assume a five-million-dollar debt that citizens, like Koda, claimed Spain owed them. It took Congress three years to ratify the treaty. That’s when our great-great-great, you get the picture, our ancestor—probably Koda’s boy—got his land claim approved. That was in 1822. That document you’re holding and the one from the federal government signed by President James Monroe, recognize that the island belongs to the Indigos outright.”

  “It’s no myth. We flat out own it,” Garret declared.

  “The major point is why Nathan stole it from you in the first place,” Mitch revealed.

  Raine frowned. “How did Nathan get his hands on that if it belongs to Tanner?”

  Tanner rubbed his jaw. “I’ll tell you how. Your mother and I stored the land grant in our safe deposit box for security reasons. Worst thing I could’ve done. Ten years ago there was a fire at the bank. Nathan went out of his way to stop by and tell us everything in our box had been destroyed. Everything.”

  Jackson let out a low moan. “Wait a minute, ten years ago Nathan had just gotten his job there. He wasn’t even an officer yet. He must’ve set fire to the bank just to get the land grant.”

  “That sounds about right. Your mother and I used to talk about how Nathan always seemed jealous of you. Maybe this is the way he decided was best to get back at you.”

  “Me? Really? Nathan certainly had me fooled all these years. That explains what else we found in the box.”

  “Nathan’s lawsuit,” Mitch offered.

  Tanner looked dumbfounded. “His what?”

  “A lawsuit, the brief had already been written, outlining how he planned to wait until the resort was built before taking everyone involved to court, using the land grant to claim that he owned the property, meaning the island, all of it, outright.”

  Tanner put his hands on his hips and stared at his middle son. “How did he plan to get away with that when there are Indigos right here still on the island? Me. I’m still standing here in this house. And you three boys come home at least once a year.”

  Mitch winced at that, but went on, “That’s just it, Dad. Our coming back so infrequently actually played right into Nathan’s hands. And the fact as a family we never talked much about estate planning.”

  “What was there to talk about?” Tanner argued. “The document was reportedly lost in the bank fire. I never questioned Nathan’s honesty.”

  “None of us did. The thing is, to make this work, Nathan would’ve had to get rid of you, especially you, first. Nathan was getting very close to acting on that devious plot because his legal brief had been prepared by an attorney in Miami last spring, March to be exact. It claimed there were no surviving Indigos left, which speaks to Nathan’s mindset and what he intended to do.”

  Mitch stared at his dad. “I think maybe you should sit down for this last part.”

  Tanner opened his mouth to protest, but realized the betrayal must run deeper. He plopped down into his easy chair.

  “The final stab in the heart is this. Nathan had another signed document in the safe deposit box, signed by Livvy, notarized by Derrick West that said she was transferring ownership of the island to Nathan.”

  Raine let out a gasp. “Wait a minute, Livvy signed away her birthright?”

  “I doubt she knew how devious Nathan was. Apparently this was his plan all along, long before last summer when Livvy brought up the subject of Nazi gold. Once Nathan latched onto the idea of the bullion, he put this scheme—the one about stealing ownership of the island—on the backburner, at least until he knew for certain the gold story was for real. But make no mistake, Nathan planned to kill us all eventually. That’s why I’m pretty certain the night Livvy died, Nathan had a hand in the plot. Once he made the rounds killing off you and Mom, he’d take the island for himself.”

  “It meant that much to him,” Jackson finished, rubbing his aching temple. “There’s no telling how long he’d been putting this together. Years. That’s probably why he made a play for Livvy in the first place.”

  “You sure it was her signature on the document?” Tanner asked. “You’re certain she signed it?”

  Mitch exchanged long looks with his brothers before answering. He pulled out another piece of paper from an envelope. “Unfortunately, we’re sure. But you can see for yourself that it’s her signature.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” Garret said. “She was caught up in leaving Walker. Maybe she was that desperate to get away.”

  “Don’t make excuses for her,” Lenore said from the doorway. “I’m done with that. So Nathan was in league with all of them—Boone, Roger, Jessup, Dave, Carson—from the beginning?”

  “It seems so, yes.” Mitch swung his legs over and made room for his mother, patted the seat so she’d sit down.

  “So Sinclair is gone. They’re all gone. And Briggs isn’t here to catch any of them either?” Lenore said sadly. “What do we do now? Who do we turn to now?”

  Mitch took her hand in his. “It’s not a big deal, Mom. We know they’ll come after the gold. That’s a given. They won’t give up now after coming this far, not without getting their hands on the treasure, if there is any. We just have to dangle the right bait to get these guys to play the game and
get them to fall for the trap we set.”

  “That sounds serious,” Raine admitted.

  “And one reason we wanted to leave you out of it,” Mitch claimed.

  “It just makes us more determined,” Anniston said as she came into the room, followed by Tessa.

  “No point in backing down now,” Tessa added.

  “Then we won’t,” Raine vowed. “When do we leave?”

  “First, we get some sleep and then we narrow down the coordinates within a five-mile radius.”

  On board the Patagonia Pike, Jessup Sinclair sat in one of the staterooms Duarte had provided for him, drinking his morning cup of coffee. He looked across his mug at the men, who’d picked him up the night before near the harbor.

  “By this time, the Indigos know I took care of Briggs and Vargas. They’re wondering who they turn to now, wondering who they should trust.”

  “You shouldn’t have done that to Turner,” Carson Frawley said. “Eliminating him is one of the reasons I want out. This whole thing started falling apart with Dietrich’s death. Now Oakerson’s gone. It’s rumored the state police have Wendy in protective custody. Who knows what kind of deal she’ll cut to save her sorry ass. And to top it off, now you’ve screwed us all by killing cops. I’m not waiting around for the FBI to show up. Not me. I’m smarter than this. I’m getting the hell away from this crap. The gold’s not worth my hide.”

  Sinclair didn’t like quitters. He’d never been that fond of the former athlete who seemed to think he was better than everyone else because he could toss a baseball around. “We all know you don’t like to get your hands dirty, don’t we?”

  “Carson’s too good for that,” Baskin chided, pouring a generous amount of whiskey into his coffee before cutting his eyes toward the baker. “You think you can just walk away from all this now. You know too much. Who says you won’t hunt up the number for the FBI yourself?”

  “I won’t.”

  “We’ll hunt you down if you even try it,” Baskin forewarned him. “Do I have to remind you that I have associates all over the world? There’s nowhere you can go that I won’t be able to find out about it.”

  Carson swallowed hard and glanced over at Dandridge. “You’re just sitting there. Tell them you feel the same way.”

  But Boone shook his head. “Not me. I’ve waited a long time for that sub full of gold to pay off. If you don’t think it’s worth sticking around for, then go. One less man to take a cut.”

  Baskin turned in his chair toward Dandridge. “Do you believe this whiner?”

  The former preacher man lifted a shoulder. “To each his own. I’m a little nervous myself about Wendy Hollister telling them everything.” He looked over at Sinclair. “If you were planning to do anyone in, why not make it Wendy? That would’ve alleviated a lot of stress for all of us.”

  “Because the opportunity to off Wendy didn’t present itself,” Jessup said quietly. “We’re close to getting everything we want. Once we have the gold we’ll leave this area for good, make a new start with new names. It won’t matter then what Wendy tells the feds or anyone else.”

  Carson fidgeted. “If only I could count on that, count on everything going down just like you laid it out.”

  Tired of listening to the man’s prattling like a child, Sinclair finally huffed out a worn-out breath. “I say if Carson wants to leave, let him go. It’s one less share to divvy up. We’ll need to do something about Duarte’s entire crew when the time comes anyway.”

  Carson threw up a hand. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. The Patagonia Pike has a crew of at least twenty men. Nathan was supposed to get rid of some of those while he was working on board. Maybe if he’d done his job and hadn’t let us down we might’ve had a chance at pulling this off. Nothing’s gone like we planned. Nothing.”

  Repulsed by Carson’s whining, Baskin sent him a disgusted look. “Your unwillingness to stick it out is starting to really bug me.”

  But no matter the dirty looks he got, Carson was adamant. “I want off the boat. Let me go my own way.”

  Baskin exchanged glances with Dandridge and Sinclair. “Then go. Get out of our sight. I’m not sure Duarte will allow you to take one of his rafts. But before you take off, understand this. If you tell anyone about us or mention anything about what’s happened in Indigo Key over the years, I’ll find you wherever you go. I have a very far-reaching network of friends that stretches from one end of the country to the other. No matter where you end up, know that I’m capable of grabbing my enemies by the throat. So keep your mouth shut or you’ll wish you had. Are we clear?”

  Carson nervously strummed his fingers on the table, but stood up. “Thanks. I won’t tell anyone anything. I swear it.”

  After Carson left the cabin, Sinclair stared at Baskin. “You’re just letting him leave like that?”

  Baskin’s lips curved up over the rim of his coffee mug. “Of course not. Boone, go get Duarte. He needs to know we have a situation.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight - Justice

  On six hours sleep, Mitch had a lot to do. And he needed help doing some of the chores. He sent Prentiss and Blaine on a shopping spree to buy groceries. They needed enough food for at least four weeks at sea. He doubted they’d be gone that long, but on a dive such as this, you never knew what you’d run into or who you’d meet carrying a grudge.

  While part of his crew bought groceries, Walsh and Jenkins made sure the boat was in tip-top shape. They had to be combat ready. Mitch refused to go into battle unprepared.

  He enlisted Jackson and Garret to obtain additional fuel, ammo, and extra weapons, specifically a shoulder-carried rocket launcher he’d ordered a week ago from Michael Tang.

  While Raine gave Lenore and Tanner a quick rundown on restaurant management, Mitch’s first stop was to go back to Dalfourth House and walk through the charred stubs with Tag.

  What had once been a showplace in its heyday was now rubble.

  “Helluva note,” Tag lamented. “Happened two blocks from the fire station and we couldn’t get here fast enough to save it.”

  “Do you know yet what he used for an explosive device?”

  “The reason you smelled gas is because he turned on all four burners of the stove, took out a box of matches, set the cardboard on fire, and then while the fumes circulated he headed outside. That’s when you guys showed up. It went boom and the whole place went up. The county coroner stayed here until nine-thirty this morning. He’s sure those three bodies had gunshots to the head. They were dead before the fire.”

  “Sinclair didn’t intend to leave witnesses behind…or evidence.”

  “Is it true you and Raine are back together?”

  Mitch smiled. “I’m hoping for good this time.”

  “Really? So you’re giving up the treasure hunting business?”

  He was trying not to think of that. Before he could come up with an answer, Mitch caught sight of an SUV pulling up at the curb.

  “Looks like ATF to me, or maybe FBI,” Mitch remarked as he slapped Tag on the shoulder and started for his truck. “I gotta go.”

  “I hope they’ll be able to turn the tide,” Tag said.

  “Don’t bet on it. Good luck with your investigation though.”

  Mitch’s second stop was a return trip to the bridge to see if the forensic team was still there. Sure enough, they’d made progress. He got out of the car and was met by a field supervisor, a balding thirty-something who wore an official-looking dark blue uniform.

  “You can’t come down here. See the crime scene tape. It’s off limits to non-personnel.”

  Mitch held up his hands, unable to take his eyes off the others in the distance, bent over a large hole in the ground and chipping away at the dirt. They wore white uniforms, latex gloves, with rubber boots on their feet and masks hiding faces. “No problem. I see your forensic team’s dug a lot further down.”

  “I can’t discuss that. You’ll have to move along.”

  Mitch was a
bout to get back in his truck when Brill pulled up in his cruiser.

  “How’s it going? How’s the head?”

  “Better. Did you hear about what they found?”

  “No. I asked that guy over there but he wouldn’t tell me.”

  Brill shifted his feet and angled closer. “After two days of digging, they found remains. There was female clothing next to the bones, looked like one of those pantsuits women used to wear in the ’90s.”

  “That fits with what I remember.”

  “Yeah? Well, before Briggs died he mentioned a woman named Darla Pendleton who went missing from here. But that’s not the big news.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They didn’t find one set of remains, they found three, spread out in the general vicinity. They have no idea who the other two are.”

  By the time Mitch reached the houseboat, Raine’s bedroom looked like a disaster area.

  “What’s all this?”

  “Packing.”

  “Raine, all you have to do is throw some jeans and shirts into a suitcase along with your wetsuit and dive gear.” He spotted a black teddy on the bedspread and held it up. “On second thought, correction. Lingerie is not only recommended but highly appreciated.” He sidled up behind her, put his arms around her waist, nipping his way down her throat. “Remember that time we made love on that little ketch?”

  “The one belonging to Keaton Payne? It was practically moored in the harbor within view of the marina.”

  Mitch laughed. “It was not. But it’ll be a lot different on board The Rum.”

  “I’ll say. We’ll have a packed house.”

  “That’s not what I mean. The whole time we made out on Keaton’s sloop, it bobbed all over the place. The Black Rum’s a lot more stable.”

  “And you’re telling me this because…”

  He ran a hand to her breast and caressed the plump little curve. “Because I’m looking forward to showing you the difference.”