Cowboy Truth: Cowboy Justice Association #3

by Olivia Jaymes

  “I’ve been trying your phone for the last few hours, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. We must have been in some dead spots on the drive back, that’s all.”

  It felt strange to be talking about such mundane matters as cell phone coverage when a huge issue hung over their heads like this.

  “I called to tell you that George Bryson’s funeral is tomorrow morning at ten with a get together at the estate afterward. You’ll be there in support of your sister, won’t you?”

  “Of course I will. Do you want me to pick you up for the funeral?”

  “We’ll meet you there. Your father is taking the morning off of work. But you can give me a ride home afterward so he can go back to the office.”

  “No problem. Listen Mom, we just got back into town and haven’t even unloaded the car. I really need to go.”

  Ava wasn’t sure she could keep up the facade any longer. She wanted to blurt out to her mother that things were going to go from bad to worse.

  “I’ll let you go then. See you tomorrow morning. Love you.”

  Her mother rung off and Ava dropped her phone back in her purse.

  “George’s funeral is tomorrow morning with a get together at the estate afterward.”

  She wasn’t sure Logan would want to even go under the circumstances. It would be difficult enough not to show any of her thoughts and suspicions.

  “That’s perfect. I’ll execute the search warrants while everyone is at the funeral. It will be easier and quicker if no one is at home.”

  “Can you do that?” she asked.

  “It’s actually preferable because it’s safer for the officers. We just leave a copy of the warrant on the table.”

  Ava twisted her purse strap. “Do you want me to not go to the funeral? I can call my mom back.”

  “No, I need you to go,” Logan answered. “I don’t want to tip anyone off as to what is going to happen. I’ll meet you at the estate after we’ve finished to pay my respects. It will be as good a time as any to tell them I’m selling out my share.”

  Ava wasn’t sure if it would make the brothers happy or upset. At this point, it probably didn’t matter one way or the other.

  “I’ll go. But I’ll be worried the entire time.”

  Logan smiled and pulled her in for a kiss. “I’d be disappointed if you weren’t. Now let me get the car unpacked. I have to head into town and see the judge. Relax and work on that new book, honey. I’ll be home in a couple of hours.”

  Ava tried to write after he left but she couldn’t concentrate. The evidence kept swirling around in her brain making her forehead pound. She finally gave up and took two aspirin with a big glass of water.

  She walked out into the backyard and climbed up into Logan’s treehouse. Feeling the need for quiet and serenity, it seemed like the best place. She could hear the singing of birds and the rustle of leaves in the wind but nothing else. Sitting back on to the bed, she tried to imagine how things would be if all or any of the brothers were guilty.

  The Bryson family, including her sister, would be torn apart. Ava would have to come to terms with her own culpability in destroying this once prominent family. If she’d been less intrigued by the mystery and Logan less of a lawman, things might have gone very differently.

  Her mother’s words came back to haunt her. “If wishes were horses…”

  Wishing wasn’t going to make this go away. The truth was going to come out eventually. They’d set in motion a series of events that was now out of their control. The case had taken on a life of its own.

  This morning she’d been enfolded in the warmth of love with Logan. Mere hours later they were facing the cold hard facts about someone they’d known their entire lives.

  Life could turn on a dime.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Ava shifted in her seat as the eulogy droned on and on. Carl O’Halloran, president of the Rotary Club, was standing at the podium extolling the virtues of George Bryson. If Carl was to be believed, George had lived his life in a perpetual state of sainthood. She was sure George had done good works but this was ridiculous.

  Carol Hayworth leaned close to Ava’s ear. “When will Logan get here?”

  “Later,” Ava whispered back. She’d already answered the same question earlier for her father who was sitting on her other side. Mary was in the front row with Lyle. “He had to work. He’ll try and meet us at the estate if he can get away.”

  Ava’s answer seemed to appease her mother at least for the time being. Her dad had been awfully concerned about Logan’s whereabouts this morning as if he was daring her to admit that she’d been dumped. She’d told him Logan had to work and left it at that, not in the mood to entertain her father’s issues. Bruce Hayworth still couldn’t look Ava in the eye as if having sex outside of marriage embarrassed him in some way. He studiously avoided her gaze as if it might turn him into a pillar of salt.

  From Ava’s spot about three rows back, she could see Wade sitting next to his wife and three children with Lyle and Mary on his other side, and Aaron with his wife and children next to Mary. All three of the brothers looked ghastly with gray skin and trembling lips. With their hunched shoulders they didn’t look much like serial killers. But then Ava had never actually met one in the flesh. She’d read about several in her research and they could run the gamut from antisocial misfits to charming sociopaths. Where the brothers fell on the spectrum she didn’t know.

  The eulogy came to an end and row by row they stood and filed out of the chapel. Ava followed her parents to the exit, breathing in the fresh air. The chapel had been stiflingly hot and crowded. The entire town had come out to bid farewell to another Bryson family member. She quickly scanned the parking lot looking for any sign of Logan.

  He’d kissed her goodbye this morning, the search warrant he’d procured last night in hand. There had been a purpose in his step as he’d left the house. He wanted to know the truth. They both did. If any of the Bryson sons was indeed the vigilante, it was time to put a stop to the killing.

  Ava’s father fished his car keys from his pocket. “I need to get back to work. You’ll take your mother home, Ava?”

  “Of course, Dad.”

  He nodded curtly and headed towards his car. She shook her head in frustration. “Is he ever going to get over it?”

  Carol Hayworth put her arm around Ava as they walked toward her vehicle. “He’s old-fashioned, that’s all. He’ll get used to it eventually, I suppose. Is there any chance you and Logan will get married? One grandchild and he’ll forget all about this, dear.”

  “Stop,” Ava groaned. “It’s too soon to be talking marriage. Or babies. It’s a pretty big deal that we’ve made a commitment. I’ve never been someone who absolutely needed to get married anyway.”

  “Are you going to move here? It doesn’t make sense for you to live in Portland when Logan is here.”

  Ava had been coming to this conclusion herself. Logan’s job was here. She could work anywhere. As much as she liked Portland, Corville was truly home. She didn’t want a long-distance relationship.

  “I’m thinking about it,” Ava hedged, catching sight of Wade helping his wife into the limousine. Everyone was going to the graveside. “My life is easier to relocate.”

  Ava’s mother followed her daughter’s gaze. “The family seems to be holding up well for having a second tragedy so close to the first. Have you and Logan made any headway in finding out who did this? It must be hard on the boys not knowing.”

  It was hard on everyone, especially Logan. Knowing he might have to arrest his childhood friends for multiple murders had kept him tossing and turning all night. Eventually they’d both got up and sat out on the porch watching the sunrise.

  “We’ve made some progress but there are still some unanswered questions.”

  She should be a politician. Her mother smiled and pulled open the car door, seemingly satisfied with the vague non-answer.

  Ava got into the car
and started the engine, fighting the urge to text Logan and find out what was going on. He was busy and she’d know soon enough. It wouldn’t be long now.

  * * * *

  The smiling housekeeper opened the front door to Wade’s house. Logan had sent his other deputies to Lyle and Aaron’s homes but he wanted to search this one himself. Wade had the strongest motive for killing his father since he had been an actual witness to his mother’s murder.

  “Sheriff Wright, what can I do for you?”

  “We’re here to execute a search warrant, ma’am. Please step outside.”

  The housekeeper gasped and her face went pale. “I—I need to call Mr. Bryson,” she stammered.

  Logan had assumed she would. It wouldn’t matter either way. There was nothing Wade could do to stop him.

  “Do what you need to do but we have a warrant. You’ll need to step aside. Alex, please keep her company.”

  Stepping into the foyer, Logan slapped the search warrant on the round table directly in front of the door and slid a vase of flowers onto the corner to anchor it.

  “Everything by the book. Take your time and do it right,” Logan stated to his deputies. “Drake, help me with the office. Tony, take the closets. I want that gun.”

  Drake followed Logan into Wade’s large home office overlooking the backyard. Logan pointed to the dark oak cabinets on one side of the room for Drake to look through. Heading straight to the matching desk, Logan began pulling open the drawers shuffling through files, pens, and miscellaneous office supplies. Searches were never fun and this one was at the bottom of his list.

  “He’s organized, I’ll give him that,” Drake observed. “He’s made good use of a label maker.”

  “See if there’s a shelf marked ‘Gun for illicit activities’.” It wasn’t funny but there was something about the situation that invited gallows humor.

  He’d hardly slept a wink last night, keeping poor Ava awake as well. The thought of one or more of his childhood friends being a cold-blooded serial killer hadn’t sat well with him. The fact that this friend had systematically hunted right under Logan’s nose made him even less happy.

  Of course there was always the chance that they were all innocent.

  Logan didn’t believe in coincidence. He’d always relied on his gut as a cop. It hadn’t let him down yet here at home or in the Middle East as a soldier. Although Aaron had been in Griffin’s town the day of a murder, it was only one piece of evidence. Logan’s gut was currently telling him that Wade’s purchase of gas in another town at the time of a vigilante murder was more important. It was compelling enough to get Logan to personally search Wade’s home on the day of his uncle’s funeral. If Logan was wrong, he would owe Wade a huge apology. If he was right…

  It might not be a bad idea to move to Portland with Ava. If Wade, or any of the brothers, were indeed the vigilante, Logan would be blamed for bringing them down. It wouldn’t make him popular with the Bryson family nor their friends. Small towns could be funny that way. A scandal like this could rock the very roots of Corville, changing it forever. People didn’t like change, so they might not like him by extension.

  “Got something.” Drake reached deep into the cabinet and pulled out a handgun. “It’s a .22. Not what we were looking for.”

  “Get it bagged anyway. As soon as we’re done here, I want you to take it to the state ballistics lab. I need to know if it’s a match to any other cases that may be unsolved.”

  Logan had already received the call this morning that the two bullets pulled from George Bryson’s chest matched all the other murders. If Wade was the killer, he’d shot his father and his uncle. Who was next? Lyle, Aaron, himself? Or maybe some other accused criminal? Logan needed to put an end to this once and for all.

  Finishing the drawers on the left side of the desk, he pulled open the middle drawer. Sitting down at the desk chair, Logan opened the drawer as far as possible. A couple of pens, a pencil, a ruler, and a pair of scissors were at the front. Nothing.

  Logan’s phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he scowled at the screen.

  “Logan. What’s up, Dave?”

  Deputy Dave Hoskins was currently leading the team searching Lyle Bryson’s home.

  “We found a .38 in a drawer. Looks recently fired.”

  Logan rubbed his temples, his frustration growing. Every time he thought he had something figured out, this case would take a twist. Yet he couldn’t help feeling a moment of relief that Wade might be innocent.

  “Bag it and get it ready to take to the state lab. Then give it to Drake when we get back to the office.”

  “Got it, boss.”

  Dave hung up and Logan tried to get his mind back on the search. He couldn’t let the discovery of a gun distract him from what he’d come to do. It might not even be the actual murder weapon.

  It was time to finally put the vigilante behind bars, but he would need the ballistics before he could make the final determination. One thing he knew for sure, he couldn’t face any of the Brysons today at a social gathering. The next time he saw one of them, it would be with an arrest warrant.

  Logan pulled his cell from his pocket and sent a text to Ava.

  New evidence. I’ll tell you about it later. Not going to the funeral.

  * * * *

  Wade fucking hated funerals.

  A bunch of people he hadn’t seen or talked to in years, gathering together to create some grand illusion about someone who was now worm food. The parasitic assholes would suck down the free food and booze before heading out, not to be seen again until the next poor bastard kicked the bucket.

  He felt a hand on his shoulder. “It’s a good turnout, isn’t it?”

  His little brother Lyle was standing there, his eyes bloodshot as if he’d been crying.

  “It is. George was loved.” Lyle nodded in agreement, either not hearing or not understanding Wade’s irony. Uncle George was a slime who had sucked at the tit of the Bryson wealth for years. Wade’s father had been systematically paying George every year to keep his mouth shut. It was the only thing George had ever done well in his entire life. He’d kept secrets and protected Bill Bryson.

  “You should check on Mary. All this has been hard on her.” Wade nodded to where Lyle’s wife was holding court with the other ‘ladies who lunch.’ Mary Hayworth Bryson hadn’t done a decent day’s work in her life. She was perfect for this family.

  “You’re right, it has. I’m going to make this up to her when this is all over.” Lyle made a beeline for his wife and Wade went back to studying the mass of people who had taken over the living room of the estate house. Standing near the long dining room table, he could easily see out into the living room and also into the backyard.

  It looked like everyone in town had shown up for the funeral and now the after party. Everyone except Logan. Wade had kept a watchful eye out for him but he was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps Logan had decided he didn’t want to be a Bryson.

  Anger churned in Wade’s gut. Logan didn’t understand the lengths Wade had gone to making sure the Bryson family tree was purged of its evil. Bill Bryson had been a son of a bitch, beating his wife, cheating on her, and then finally pushing her off that balcony. He deserved to rot in the fiery depths of hell for all eternity.

  It had been a surprise when Logan had questioned Wade about his mother’s death. His memories had been hazy about that day for so long, but had come into sharp relief the night of Lyle’s wedding. Overhearing his father talk to his uncle about being Logan’s father had shaken Wade to the core. He could have handled his father’s actions toward him, but what Bill Bryson had done to Logan had been unforgivable. Wade had been left with only one option. His father had to die for his crimes.

  Out of the corner of Wade’s eye he saw Ava Hayworth chatting with his brother Aaron. A passably attractive brunette, she’d caught Logan’s fancy. Everyone in town knew she was helping him try and find the killer. If she was sleeping with Logan, she probably knew abou
t the family dirt. Luckily Aaron and Lyle were also ignorant of the true extent of Bill Bryson’s crimes. Wade had done what he could to shelter them. He’d always tried to protect his younger siblings from the ugly side of life.

  He took another swallow of bourbon, enjoying the heat as it traveled down his throat and into his stomach. Savoring a fine whiskey was something Uncle George had never mastered. He’d been a sloppy drunk who chased women and lacked self-control. He wouldn’t be missed. He’d brought nothing but shame to the family.

  Wade’s pocket chimed and he ducked into a hallway and pulled out his cell hoping it was Logan with a good excuse as to why he wasn’t here with the rest of the family.

  “Wade Bryson.”

  “Oh, Mr. Bryson!” The shaken voice of his housekeeper came through the phone. “The sheriff is here and they’re searching the house! I didn’t want them to but they had a warrant. Please don’t be mad.”

  Stone cold anger fisted in Wade’s chest at the intrusion. There was nothing to find, he’d made sure of that. But this meant Logan was closing in. If Wade were caught it would be all over. Killers, wife beaters, and pedophiles would be free to roam the streets, raping and murdering again and again. He couldn’t let that happen.

  He gulped down the last of the whiskey and muttered some platitudes to Alice before striding over to where Ava was talking to Aaron. “Ava, do you know where Logan is? We expected him to be here.”

  Something flickered in her eyes before she could hide it. She knew exactly where Logan was and what he was doing.

  “He’s working, I’m afraid. He’s hoping to be here soon though.”

  Lying bitch.

  “That’s too bad,” Wade replied smoothly. “He’s so dedicated to his job. We’re lucky to have him as our sheriff.”

  Aaron nodded in agreement. “He’s the best sheriff this town has ever had.”

  “Wade! Aaron!” Lyle and Mary were hurrying toward them, their expressions stormy. Lyle was holding his cell in his hand. “Our neighbors just called. The police are at the house with a search warrant. Paul went over to ask them what they were doing and he saw it. Logan has deputies searching my house. He saw them carry out my gun in a plastic bag,” Lyle squeaked.