Shadows of the Falls (Twelve Oaks Farm Series Book 2)

by Teresa Greene

  Lacy asked again, “May I see the cameo?”

  The woman’s hands trembled when she opened the case with the key on the chain around her neck. She took out the case holding the cameo. “Yes, Mr. Graves brought the cameo, the ruby ring, and several other pieces I have already sold. He came by yesterday to pick up his profit from the sales.” She watched Lacy take the cameo out of the case and hold it up to the light. “It is a rare and precious piece. It is ivory.”

  “How much?”

  “As I said, it is a very rare cameo. It is over two hundred years old.”

  Obviously annoyed, Josh asked with a little more force, “How much?”

  “Three hundred dollars.”

  Lacy’s shoulders slumped. Beth knew she didn’t have the money to pay for such an expensive piece of jewelry. She unfastened her purse planning to put it on her charge card. Josh grabbed her hand. “I’ll pay for the cameo.” He opened his billfold and took out his credit card and handed it to the owner.

  Lacy placed her hand on his arm. “No, Josh, I can’t allow you to pay for something that costs that much. I won’t be able to pay you back until I’m finished with school.”

  “Consider it a gift.” He patted her hand. “No need to pay me back.”

  The owner swiped Josh’s credit card. “Would you like for me to wrap it?”

  “No, thank you.” Lacy took the box holding the ivory cameo and hurried outside. Removing the cameo from the box she held the cameo up to the sun. She held it in her hand and closed her eyes.

  “Do you see Hilda?”

  “No.” She handed Beth the cameo. “Do you feel anything when you hold it?”

  Just like Lacy had done, Beth rubbed the cameo between her palms and closed her eyes in concentration before handing it back. “No, I think Hilda likes you best anyway. She had never shown herself to me before Sunday.”

  Lacy pinned the cameo to her shirt. “Should I take that as a compliment?”

  Josh asked, “Do you want me to send an agent to question Billy Graves?”

  “No, I would like to meet with him myself. I have several questions to ask him. First I would like to know why he has Hilda’s jewelry. If he has her jewelry, it is possible he knows something about her. He could be family, maybe a distant cousin or something. I feel like I’m finally getting somewhere.”

  Beth took the box that the cameo came in from Lacy’s hand and twined her fingers with hers. “I’ll go with you, but you’ll have to wait until late tomorrow because I have a full agenda.”

  “I plan to go to school tomorrow. I helped design a new prosthetic leg and I want to be there to see the four year old boy when he is fitted. He lost his leg in a car wreck last year and it will be his first prosthetic limb.”

  Lacy had had a lot of success with her work study. She spent every spare minute with her professor and a couple of other students on the new design. It was something she was very proud to be a part of.

  Josh ordered in a firm voice, “Make sure you let Grant know. It won’t be safe to go to some stranger’s house alone.”

  “I promise not to go by myself.” Lacy wrapped her arms around Josh’s neck and kissed his cheek. “I feel we are getting close to solving a mystery.” She touched her fingers to the cameo. “Thank you.” She wrapped her other arm around Beth’s neck. “Thank you both.”

  Beth hoped they were doing the right thing helping Lacy find out more about Hilda. After witnessing Grant’s anger, she felt a heavy sense of dread. What if he was right and Hilda harmed Lacy? The guilt would destroy her if something tragic happened to her baby sister.

  ****

  Smoke curled around Randal Collins. He waved his hand to get it out of his face. He hated smokers and here he was working with one. Travis Kane was rarely without a cigarette stuck between his thick lips. Yellow nicotine had stained his two fingers where he held the butt of the cigarette to get the last of the tobacco. He didn’t waste anything taking the last draw all the way to the filter before dropping it into the ashtray. Piles of butts filled the crystal ashtray. The man was a billionaire. Why the hell he sucked a cigarette to the filter was a puzzle to him. Randal grabbed the ashtray and emptied it into the trashcan then slammed it back on the table.

  “That’s a nasty habit.”

  “Maybe someday I’ll quit.”

  Randal snorted, “Yes, sure you will.” Randal knew he had made several attempts at giving up the habit of smoking. Nicotine gum, the patch, hypnosis, and even going cold turkey. Nothing had worked. He always went back to smoking. But then he had been smoking since he was fifteen years old. It was difficult to give up a habit that had plagued a person for that many years.

  At least he had no other vises. He abstained from alcohol, gambling, unhealthy foods, and only indulged in sex once a week. Just like clockwork, Melanie Monroe showed up at 8:00 every Saturday night to screw Travis’ brains out. No wining or dining, no small talk. The moment she arrived they would go into the bedroom and go at it for hours.

  The outside of Travis Kane’s one thousand five hundred square foot house was modest, but the inside was spectacular. Bamboo floors shone brightly. The expensive black leather sofa and loveseat held pillows of various bright colors. The dark blue walls gave it an elegant appearance. Some of the paintings on the walls were painted by the most famous names that ever lived. For a man that came from nothing, he had done well. But as Randal knew a life of crime could be very profitable. That was until he was caught and had to flee the country to keep from going to prison.

  He and Travis had been friends in high school. High school was when they started their very lucrative life of crime. At first it was selling marijuana to other students. As their need for money increased, they started selling crack cocaine. It had been a prosperous partnership. Travis preferred to stay in the shadows keeping a low profile, Randal liked to be in the thick of things. He loved the danger and excitement.

  Unable to tolerate the smoke any longer, Randal pushed away from the table, stood and moved to the huge glass sliding doors that looked out over the Neuse River. Location was what impressed Randal most. The house was perched on a hill overlooking one of the most picturesque scenes he had ever seen. The back yard sprawled and sloped to the edge of the water. It was late evening and the woods beyond the river were full of shadows. Sunlight shimmered on the water. Still his favorite time was morning when the mist rose off the water and the trees shined with various shades of green. He would miss the view when he returned to Mexico.

  Beyond the gazebo, the boathouse housed a beautiful speedboat, a slow moving pontoon, and two jet skies. The man loved his toys. During the summer he probably spent more time outside using those toys.

  Travis’ neighbors had no idea he was a drug dealer, mainly because he led a quiet life. He chose his friends carefully. Friends that he knew would never speak of his secret life. And if they did, Travis wouldn’t hesitate to kill, or rather pay someone to do the killing. He didn’t like to get his hands dirty. That was how he had remained anonymous for the past fifteen years. He had always been able to stay one step ahead of the FBI. But then Randal thought he would never get caught either. He had been a careful man, but not careful enough.

  From the time he landed his private plane at a small airport outside of Raleigh, he had been staying with Travis. When he heard his father had been killed in an ambush while being transferred to a different prison, he left the safety of Mexico with plans to take revenge on the person responsible. Then to discover that person had once been his partner, Travis Kane, left a sour taste in his mouth. His first instinct was to kill Travis, but he needed him. If he was going to make the money to keep him in the lifestyle he was accustomed, he had to trust him.

  “Are you still brooding about your father?”

  Randal ground his teeth to keep from lashing out at Travis. “I wish there would have been another way.” Randal turned and stared at him.

  Playing solitaire at the carved oak table, he placed a red queen on top of a b
lack king. “There wasn’t any other option but to eliminate your father. Brutality is required to survive. He was going to give my name to the FBI. I couldn’t let that happen. I don’t understand why you felt the need to tell him of our partnership. You know how much I detest the FBI.”

  Not wanting to have the conversation about his father, Randal said nothing. He turned his back to Travis. “Your father told the FBI where three of my meth labs were located. Millions of dollars lost because he couldn’t handle prison. It not only hurt me, but also you. You were going to handle the operations in Mexico. Now we are going to have to pay for more protection at the remaining two meth labs.” He swiped the air in anger. “Not to mention the money I’m paying the rogue FBI agent that has cut into my profits.”

  Randal stuffed his hands into his pockets and leaned his shoulder against the glass door as he glared at Travis. He was beginning to hate him. Anger twisted in his belly. If he knew he could find someone to handle things as well as his ex-friend, he’d pull his pistol from his shoulder strap and shoot him right between the eyes. But he couldn’t stick around and show a new partner the ropes. That would take too much time. Besides, he didn’t want to clean up the mess. “We’ll get back on our feet.”

  Not finished reaming him out, he continued, “Worse yet, you insisted on going to The Red Diamond for a few drinks and to screw a couple of the waitresses. Said no one would disturb us in the back room. That stupid girl walked right in and saw my face.”

  “The woman had no idea who you were. I told you to let it go, but would you listen to me. You’re so damn paranoid.” Randal folded his arms and gave him a fierce look. He hated the long days and nights of doing nothing. He was accustomed to parties and wild women. All Travis ever wanted to do was stay home. He liked to fly under the radar. “No, you had to hire a professional hit man, who the FBI has in custody.”

  “Your face has been plastered on every TV station and newspaper for months. Can you say with absolute certainty Kathy Lassiter didn’t recognize you?”

  “I look very different than I did six months ago. I doubt anyone would recognize me. The only expression on her face was embarrassment.” Randal closed his eyes as he massaged his forehead. “Yes, I can say with certainty she didn’t recognize me.”

  “It doesn’t matter because Chase Powers doesn’t know my identity. He can tell them nothing that connects me to Kathy Lassiter.”

  “Well maybe not, but because Kathy Lassiter was questioned by the FBI they now know I was in that room. If you would have left it alone, she would never have been questioned and shown my picture. Because of your damn paranoia the FBI knows I am in Raleigh. If this comes crashing down, it will not fall on you. I’m the one that’ll do hard time.” Randal pointed his finger at Travis. “We’ve got a product to move, and that will be difficult with the FBI breathing down our necks.”

  Travis dropped the cards to the table in frustration. “Then return to Mexico and begin to build your empire. I’ll handle things here, you handle things from there.”

  Randal pressed his forehead against the glass and felt the warmth from the sun. The longer he stayed with Travis, the more he wanted to kill him. It was true there was no honor between thieves and murderers. As youngsters they had been the best of friends. Now that friendship was strained. But then he would never be able to forgive him for ordering the hit on his father.

  “As soon as I complete my business here, I’ll return to Mexico.” He needed to finish what he came to Raleigh to do. He was going to kill Grant Wilson and his brother Josh Wilson. The hatred in his heart would never end until he had eliminated the brothers. Grant had taken something precious from him; something more precious than all his drugs and property. He had taken Nina from him.

  “I’m going for a walk.” Randal snatched the cap hanging by the door, slapped it on his head pulling it low. He slid the door open, strode across the deck, and took the steps leading to the river. He sat on the bank and watched a couple of ducks bobbing on the river. It was a peaceful scene but he was anything but calm. In his mind he tried to think of the best way to kill the Wilson brothers. He didn’t want to put Nina in danger, so his timing had to be perfect. To make sure it was done right this time, he would do the deed himself. He should never have asked his cousin Clay to take out Grant. He should have done it himself. Because of Grant Wilson, he was forced to live in the shadows. He lost his home, identity, and friends. Hell, he couldn’t even go see his mother because he was sure the FBI was watching her.

  ****

  The moment Beth walked into her office, Tim was by her side. “Honey, are you okay?” Before she could answer, he shut the door so no one could hear their conversation. He took both her hands and continued, “I heard what happened. I can’t believe you followed Shirley Powers to their lair of crime. You could have been killed.” He framed his hands around her face. “What did that horrid woman do to you? She marred your beautiful face.”

  She pulled his hands away and held them at his side. “I’m fine.” She shook with exhaustion and fatigue. Last night she couldn’t sleep fearing she had gone too far and would lose her job. “How much trouble am I in?”

  He paused as if searching for the right words. “I don’t know. Phillips, Robbins, and Daniels have been in the conference room all morning.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of. They are debating whether to let me remain with the firm or fire me.” She prayed they wouldn’t dismiss her. If they did, she wouldn’t be able to get another position at another law firm without a recommendation from the partners. She was probably screwed.

  “Even if you were wrong, you did what you thought was right.” Tim turned her around, placed his hands on her back, and nudged her toward the door. “Go in there and give your side of the story. Tell them how much they need you. It took a brave woman who was not afraid to take chances to do what you did. Fight for your job, sweetie. Don’t be afraid to sing your praises.” The sound of the door closing behind her caused her to jump.

  She found herself staring into Wendy McDonald’s smug face. Wendy would be overjoyed if she lost her position. The woman despised her. But then Beth didn’t have any love for her either. The woman was always causing trouble. Few people in the office liked Wendy and steered clear of her.

  Beth drew in a breath that burned all the way to her stomach. Nausea threatened as she squared her shoulders, raised her chin in the air, and walked right by Wendy without speaking. Other eyes bore into her as she made her way to the conference room. Some with sympathy, some as if they felt she had betrayed the firm. She kept trying to rehearse what she would say, but her mind was all muddled. She couldn’t think with her co-workers staring at her. Gossip had spread like wildfire that she had done the unspeakable. Beth had helped the FBI find evidence against her own client.

  Her heart flipped over in her chest as she stood outside the door of the conference room. Unsure if she should just barge in without being invited, she turned around intending to return to her office. Pride took over at the last minute and she whirled back around. Yesterday she fought with an assassin and still had the swollen lip to prove it. She wasn’t afraid of three men in suits. Primed for a fight, she turned the knob to the tall double doors and stepped into the room. She paused at the door and scrutinized the three men who turned their attention toward her. Face to face with her bosses caused her confidence to crumble. She couldn’t put two rational thoughts together.

  She took a deep breath and reminded herself she was made of sterner stuff than that. She was a strong, independent woman who wasn’t afraid to fight for what she believed in. Beth walked across the black marble floor as if she owned it. Stopping just inches from the edge of the table, she shifted her gaze from one man to the other two. “I would like to explain why I chose to follow Shirley Powers yesterday. For some reason I just couldn’t let it go.” Compelled to be completely honest, she rushed on. “From the beginning I have felt Chase Powers was guilty of attempting to murder Kathy Lassiter. In good co
nscience I couldn’t turn my back and let a guilty man go free. Preying on people’s lives is a tragedy and that is exactly what Chase and Shirley Powers have done for many years. When the opportunity presented itself, I took it. After speaking with Agent Wilson, he informed me Shirley Powers had given them the slip. I knew her demeanor, the way she walked. I drove to the area to see if I could be of any help. I recognized her and saw her get into a car.”

  She took another deep cleansing breath before continuing, “I saw the evidence with my own eyes when I followed Mrs. Powers. I saw the graves where bodies are buried.” Her voice broke. “Many graves filled with the bodies of people Chase and Shirley Powers murdered. Someone who loved those poor souls never knew what happened to them until now.” Josh informed her they had already unearthed twenty bodies. He said it was a grizzly scene. The sheer number of people Chase and Shirley Powers had murdered boggled her mind. How could they have gotten away with such heinous crimes for so many years?

  “Miss Reynolds.”

  Beth held up both hands and peered into Mr. Phillips’ face. “Bear with me.” She clasped her trembling hands behind her back and shifted putting her weight on her right leg. “I assure you, I am committed to my position here. If you give me another chance, I promise to be a better defense attorney.”

  Mr. Phillips stood. “Please sit, Miss Reynolds.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’d rather stand.”

  He held the back of the chair and ordered, “Sit, Miss Reynolds,” in a firm voice.

  She felt the color drain from her face as she sat in the chair. He returned to his seat and linked his fingers together before resting them on top of the conference table. “We appreciate your situation, but you must understand it is your responsibility to defend our clients whether they are guilty or innocent. We don’t care what crimes they have committed. Perhaps I was mistaken when I interviewed you and felt that you had that killer instinct. Clients pay us a lot of money so we must give them the best defense they are entitled to. If you are not capable of doing so, then you are working for the wrong law firm.”