Grime and Punishment (A Harley and Davidson Mystery Book 9)

by Liliana Hart

  They had a quick briefing, and Hank gave everyone their assignments. Finding the murder weapon was key, and they had warrants to deliver to Oddie. He wasn’t going to be happy.

  He’d called for other deputies to meet them all at the country club for crowd control, and to detain anyone who tried to get away. Hank let Rodriguez take the lead, lights and sirens blaring, and then fell in line with the rest of the gang. This had truly been a team effort, and they all wanted to see it through to the end.

  They met the other deputies just before they turned into the country club, and they sped into the parking lot among all the high-priced cars and golf carts. There were a couple of early teams already on the course, but there was a large crowd in the lobby along with television cameras.

  A man in a suit was the first to see the police cars and ran out to intervene before a scene could be made.

  “Can I help you, officer?” the man asked. “I’m Charles Wilson. I’m the manager here at the club.”

  “It’s sheriff, actually,” Hank said. “Sheriff Davidson. And we have a couple of warrants to serve.” He handed the paper to Wilson. “We’re here to search the grounds, the club house, locker rooms. We believe one of your members killed Leland Grant.”

  “Mr. Grant was also a member,” Wilson said, looking shell-shocked. “He was a very nice man. It was terrible to hear of his passing. Whatever you need, me or my staff are happy to help.”

  “Thank you,” Hank said, directing his deputies to fan out.

  “What in Sam Hill is going on?” Oddie asked, pushing his way through the cameras and crowds to confront Hank.

  Hank was ready for him. “This is a warrant to search that truck of yours and your locker here at the club, including your golf bag.”

  Oddie took the warrant and tore it in half, tossing it on the ground. “Your warrants don’t mean anything here. This is my territory.”

  “Yeah, your understanding of the law is pretty terrible for someone who wants to be sheriff,” Hank said. “I’ve been on the phone with the state ethics committee about your campaign spending. It seems Leland Grant shared his findings with several people, including the FBI. It was only a matter of time before they came for you. Did you really think killing Grant would be the end of your troubles?”

  Oddie paled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure you do,” Hank said, smiling. It wasn’t his nice smile and Oddie took a step back. “We’ve got charges of money laundering, bribery, misuse of funds. Enough to send you to prison for the rest of your life. Now you add murder to that and you’re looking at the death penalty.” Hank shook his head. “You’re so proud of the people you know in high places who will do anything for you because you’re lining their pockets, except at the end of the day, not one of those people were willing to go down with you to save you. You need better friends, McElroy.”

  “I didn’t kill Leland,” Oddie insisted. “You can’t prove anything. You’re just grasping at straws. Isn’t Bud sitting in jail because he’s your prime suspect?”

  “Sheriff,” Rodriguez called out, holding up a golf bag. “His driver is missing, but the cover is here. It lit up like a Christmas tree when hit with luminal.”

  “Where’d you dump the driver?” Hank asked Oddie. “We got the report back from the FBI lab. Your golf clubs were specially made, weren’t they? You had them coated with a gold primer. Very unusual. And a terrible idea for a murder weapon. That gold ended up in Leland Grant’s head when you hit him.”

  “Got it, Sheriff,” James called out. “It was in his truck. He wiped it down, but he couldn’t remove all traces.”

  “Nice job,” Hank said. “We’ve got you cold.”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head, looking shell-shocked. He caught a glimpse of the cameras, all pointed in his direction, and the crowd of people who looked just as shocked as he was. He was finished.

  “Tell me,” Agatha said. “Did Evelyn Grant know you were going to kill her husband that morning? Did the two of you hatch this plan together so you could have a life together?”

  “Evelyn had nothing to do with any of this,” Oddie said angrily, taking a step toward Agatha. “Nothing. Leave her alone!”

  With one swipe of his forearm, Oddie struck out at Agatha, but Hank moved quickly, stepping between them before he could make contact. Hank blocked the punch and delivered one of his own to Oddie’s midsection, and then spun him so he faced the wall, jerking his arm behind his back while Oddie was still trying to catch his breath.

  “Springer,” Hank called out. “Let’s get him cuffed.”

  Springer looked like a kid on Christmas morning. “You got it, Sheriff.” He snapped on the cuffs, and then his grin spread when he heard his mother telling one of the cameramen that it was her son arresting Oddie McElroy, and how proud she was of him.

  The reporters were all talking over each other, trying to get to Hank, but he put his hands up to quiet them.

  “This is just part of the job. And it probably would’ve been done a lot faster if Sheriff Reggie Coil had been behind the helm instead of me. But that was part of Oddie’s plan. You’ve got a great sheriff and this is a great and safe community. It’s time to bring Coil back and get the real criminals like McElroy out of positions they abuse.”

  Hank led Agatha to the car, but he was smiling. The crowd had started yelling Coil for Sheriff. It was a good day.

  Epilogue

  “I, Reginald Walker Coil, do solemnly swear, that I will faithfully execute the duties of the office of Sheriff for Bell County, of the State of Texas, and will to the best of my ability preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution and laws of the United States and of this State, so help me God.”

  “Congratulations, Sheriff Coil on your re-election and return to the Office of the Sheriff,” said Judge Thomas Trammel.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  Hank held Agatha’s hand as he watched his best friend being sworn-in for a new four-year term as sheriff. Coil’s wife and son clung to him while reporters and members of his staff circled around to commemorate the occasion.

  “Hey, Boss,” Springer said.

  “It’s just Hank now,” he said.

  “Right,” he said. “I just wanted to thank you. You really helped me a lot. I won’t forget it.”

  “Springer, you’re going to be a good cop. I’m proud of you.”

  Springer looked like he was going to cry, so he hurried off to stand with the rest of the deputies that had come to the swearing-in.

  All the charges against Coil had been dropped. He’d been viciously and falsely attacked for having given his entire life to protect the very same people who cast false allegations against him. In the end, most of those same accusers who sat on the state’s law enforcement ethics board were removed and charged with criminal conspiracy once Oddie McElroy started to spill the beans in hopes of a plea deal.

  As the small county court room cleared, Coil hurried over to them. He embraced Hank and held tight. He couldn’t say the words he was feeling, and Hank understood that. They’d been through a lot together over the years, and they’d always had each other’s backs. And they always would.

  “Thank you,” Coil finally said. “I owe you.”

  “You owe me nothing,” Hank said. “I have something for you.” Hank held out his hand and in it was the gold sheriff’s badge.

  Coil let out a shaky breath and took it. It was a badge that weighed heavy, no matter who held it. “I’m going to take the family down to the Kettle Café to celebrate. Want to join us?”

  “No way,” Agatha said, frowning. “They ditched you in support of McElroy. They took down your signs”

  “Actually,” Hank said. “McElroy owned the lease on the building and threatened to evict them unless they showed their support.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep,” Coil agreed. “The manager called me to apologize and let me know they had no choice.”

  “We’ll pass on lu
nch, but thanks. You and your family enjoy the time together.” Hank slapped him on the shoulder. “Just think, you’ll be back behind that desk, dealing with all the politics bright and early in the morning. I missed retirement.”

  Coil grinned and pulled Hank close so only he could hear what he had to say. “Don’t get too comfortable. You’ve only got two weeks to figure out how to propose to Agatha.”

  Sneak Peek: Blazing Saddles

  On Sale Now

  Tuesday, February 14th

  Today was the day Hank Davidson’s life would change forever.

  He’d thought about it, worried about it, talked about it, considered it, and reconsidered it. And finally, he’d made the decision to propose to Agatha Harley. And he was almost sure he could do it without making a fool of himself.

  It had been almost three years since he’d moved to Rusty Gun, Texas. He’d spent his career as an FBI-trained serial killer hunter, but his heart had no longer been in it, and he’d turned in his gun and badge for the lazy days of retirement.

  It had been Sheriff Reggie Coil, his long-time friend, who’d first invited Hank to Rusty Gun so he could disappear and get some much-needed R&R. But never in a million years had the big city murder cop ever thought he’d become a permanent citizen of the sleepy, southern town. Much less fall in love there.

  Agatha was his perfect match. She’d once had dreams of solving high-profile criminal cases as a forensic anthropologist, but a stalker had changed the course of her life and sent her back to Rusty Gun. She’d persevered through more than he could imagine and still managed to become a successful author, writing about the very crimes she first dreamt of solving.

  Agatha enjoyed small town living and was content to spend her days reading, researching and writing about the career she no longer pursued. But Hank had changed all of that when the two clashed while investigating their first cold case together.

  Their relationship was what some might call a slow simmer, but Hank was methodical in every aspect of his life. It’s what made him one of the best homicide detectives in the world. It was what also caused him to wait months to propose while he planned everything down to the minutest detail.

  Though to say he planned it without help would be a lie. Preparations for solving a crime were a lot different than preparations for romance. And he wasn’t afraid to admit his skills in romance were…lacking. He didn’t understand why people couldn’t just make a decision to get married and do it, but in his experience, women tended to disapprove of the cut and dried technique. And more importantly, he wanted to make it special for Agatha.

  And for that, he’d had to get Agatha’s best friend, Heather Cartwright, involved. He and Heather had never seen eye to eye on anything, and she was one of Hank’s least favorite people on the planet, but they both loved Agatha and had her best interests at heart.

  Heather’s favorite pastime was marriage and divorce, so she knew a thing or two about romantic proposals. She’d also accumulated a lot of wealth during her marriages, so she knew all the best places stay and eat. Which is why Hank had booked adjoining suites at a luxury hotel on the Riverwalk in San Antonio, a private driver, and reservations for a seven-course dinner for Valentine’s Day, where he’d eventually get down on one knee and pop the question. Just the thought had him breaking out in a sweat.

  Hank patted the ring box in his pocket that he’d been carrying around for several days. He was afraid to let it out of his sight. He’d driven to Austin and picked it out himself, finding an unique design that reminded him of Agatha—because she was definitely unique in every way.

  He knew his mind should be on the upcoming weekend getaway, but he couldn’t help but be distracted by the email he’d gotten from the FBI field office in Philadelphia—his old stomping ground. He needed to get his emotions under control before he saw Agatha. She was very intuitive, especially where he was concerned, and she’d know something was wrong.

  It was the only news that could have elicited this kind of response. It was his past come back to haunt him. The only case he’d worked that had ever gone unsolved. The Cooper Cove Boys had robbed banks all over the east coast. They were brilliant in their execution. Like a military operation. And then they upped the stakes and added murder to their list of crimes.

  Hank wasn’t proud to say that politics and red tape had gotten in the way of bringing justice to the victims. The FBI wanted to make sure the headlines focused on the robberies and not the murders. It brought better press and looked sexier in print. And the FBI outplayed their hand, setting up a sting that never came to fruition because the Copper Cove Boys got wind of it, took the fortune they’d amassed, and went underground.

  “And now they’re back,” Hank whispered. And the FBI wanted him to help with the investigation.

  Even a year or so ago, he would have jumped at the chance to get back on board. His pride was at stake. It was the one case that got away from him. But his priorities had changed. There were other investigators who could lead the charge and bring the ruthless gang down. But not him. He was looking to the future. It was time to get engaged and start his life with Agatha.

  He’d been amazed how easily everyone had been able to deceive Agatha into taking the trip to San Antonio for the weekend. Coil’s recent suspension and reinstatement as sheriff had played into the scenario perfectly. Agatha hadn’t thought a thing of it when Coil said he’d book the trip as a thank you to them both for stepping up to the plate and taking over while he’d been out, and also for exposing all the corruption that had been going on during the election.

  But Agatha had been thrilled for the chance to get away, and hadn’t asked too many questions.

  “This is exciting,” she said, looking out the window as their plane landed. “We’re both in need of a break and this is going to be perfect. I’m going to eat my way through pounds of chips and salsa.”

  Hank chuckled. The gleam in her eyes was like that of a kid in a candy store. “And when you get too full, I’ll roll you back to the hotel so you can fall into a carb coma.”

  “That’s one of the many reasons I love you,” she said, squeezing his hand.

  Hank let out a breath when he saw the driver waiting for them at the airport. Everything was going to plan. He owed Heather big time. Check-in went smoothly, and the concierge gave him a thumb’s up out of Agatha’s view. Hank hoped that meant the champagne and chocolate covered strawberries were waiting in the room.

  Hank had lived life on a policeman’s budget, so he’d never stayed in a hotel like this one before. It was built like a fort, complete with stone battlements and cannons in the parapets. The décor was lush and expensive and old, and he saw from the placard on the wall that it had, in fact, been a real fort during the Mexican-American War.

  The man who’d checked them in was guiding them to their suite in the top tower. The suite had two bedrooms and two baths, but was connected by a common living area. The temptation had been enormous, but they’d both been careful to keep separate living quarters, at home and when they traveled. He really hoped they had a short engagement.

  “Wow,” Agatha said, when their guide opened their door and let them in. “Gorgeous.”

  Hank barely noticed the open space or the balcony that looked out over the Riverwalk. The champagne and strawberries were laid out next to a bouquet of flowers, just as planned, but his throat was closing up and he started to feel the panic of what was to come.

  “You okay?” she asked, putting a hand on his arm.

  “Yeah, I’m just warm,” he said, and tipped the hotel employee before shutting the door behind him.

  “Is that a hot tub in the corner?” Agatha asked.

  Hank chuckled uncomfortably, but it came out more as a croak.

  “Everything is beautiful,” she said, smelling the bouquet of yellow roses.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  The smile that spread across her face was worth every worry and hours of time spen
t planning for the weekend.

  “I love it,” she said, her eyes glistening with tears.

  It was then he realized how little time he spent trying to romance Agatha. He took her no-nonsense attitude and drive to get the job done for granted. She still had these hidden soft spots, and it was important for him to remember that.

  She threw herself into his arms and kissed him, surprising him with her enthusiasm. By the time she let go, they were both out of breath.

  “Wow,” she said again, blushing this time. “This really is special. I’m so glad you attacked me on your lawn the first day we met.”

  He barked out a laugh in surprise. “You tripped over the sprinkler.”

  “Yes, after you blasted me with a garden hose.”

  “You were trespassing.”

  “There’s no such thing in a small town,” she said. “I was just being neighborly.”

  “Nosy,” he corrected. “Champagne?”

  “Of course,” she said.

  He poured her a glass and made her a plate with the strawberries. “We have dinner reservations in a couple of hours. I suggest you take these, put some bubbles in the tub, and soak until you’re puny. I’ll meet you back out here at eighteen-thirty.”

  Hank tried to nap, but he was too wired up, so he turned on the TV. When that didn’t hold his attention he went ahead and showered and dressed in his dark gray suit and a pale purple shirt and tie the woman at the store helped him pick out.

  He’d left his champagne untouched, wanting a clear head, and he was pacing back and forth in their common area when he heard her door open. He turned to face her and the spit dried up in his mouth and his lungs stopped working.

  She wore a dress the color of crushed strawberries, and it skimmed her long, lean body in a way that made him want to keep her all to himself and not let any other man set eyes on her. The strappy black shoes had her standing slightly taller than him, but he didn’t mind. Agatha was simply a natural beauty, with eyes that changed between blue and green, dark lashes, and dark hair she’d been letting grow and let hang in loose curls around her shoulders. Hank loved that she was comfortable in who she was, and her confidence drew every eye to her when she was in a crowd.