Book Read Free

Arrest of the Heart

Page 10

by Judy Kentrus


  Before heading out, he wanted to change his clothes and quickly check his email to see if there were any messages from Sam. There were over a hundred emails, but he spotted Sam’s first. Arrived safely at the motel. It’s not the Ritz, slept in worse. Stopped at truck stop when the sky started to get black. Didn’t relish getting struck by lightning. Ran into a friend of ours. Nate Haines is on an undercover assignment driving an eighteen wheeler. I met his partner, Treig Taylor. He’s State ABC. Nate knew enough not to ask me any questions. They dropped me off at the motel. Treig asked what my business was in Laurel Heights. Said I was the new short-order cook at the Spoonful. I don’t think your secret is going to be safe too much longer. Will be on the job tomorrow at 6:00 am.

  Linc shook his head at the irony of the situation. What were the chances Treig would show up now? Not staying in touch with his friend had been wrong. TJ had begged him not to leave Laurel Heights, and they’d had a bitter argument. Everyone in the town, except Sallie Mae, had thought he was dead. Hopefully, Treig wouldn’t contact his sister or his mother. Linc’s presence in Laurel Heights would surely come up in conversation.

  He programmed the location in his GPS and tapped the police scanner app on his phone, wanting to get a heads up on the situation on the bridge. He passed two crews clearing the roadway of downed trees. One section of River Road had been blocked off due to dangling electric lines and an arcing transformer. What was so important that the mayor was driving in this remote wooded area on a hellish night? Was it really an accident, or someone’s plan to get the mayor out of the way? With Humperdinck missing, Margaret Taylor would be temporary mayor. Linc didn’t need the yellow rain gear to feel like the captain of a sinking ship.

  A few miles down the road, Jessie remained the ranking officer on scene. The storm had set off security alarms all over town. The chief and another unit was confirming they were weather related. Lightning had struck a house on Stop Street and Lieutenant McCarthy and unit four were assisting the fire department.

  Linc slowly approached the scene and took in the barricade of shooting flames from the flares preventing anyone from crossing the bridge. A kaleidoscope of red and white flashing lights bounced off the surrounding woodlands. He parked in back of a radio car and reluctantly donned the Glouster fisherman outfit. Wind driven rain beat against him as he pointed his powerful Mag flashlight at the wet slick surface of the road. He didn’t feel that much out of place. The police had donned bright orange raincoats and covered their baseball style hats with neon coverings. Yellow caution tape had been strung across the two sections of the bridge, where the frame guard rails had been taken out. Large spotlights on the rescue truck were aimed at the vehicle caught up on tree limbs that resembled a raft wedged between giant boulders. It was a miracle the car hadn’t been swept away by the rushing water.

  Donatiello recognized the figure in the bright yellow get-up and sneered, “If it isn’t Buford’s bad boy out for a stroll. Lose your whaling ship?”

  Jess pursed her lips at the mocking drawl in her patrolman’s voice. “Can the comments, Emilio.” Jess turned to Linc. “Everything okay with Edie?” Personally, Jess thought he looked cute.

  “Yes, Lisa Kay is at the house. How can I help?

  “Don’t know right now, but my first priority is to confirm the mayor isn’t in the vehicle, injured or worse. Any attempts to tow the car out would be insane because of the rain and poor visibility.”

  Linc walked the short span to the side of the bridge and ran the beam from his flashlight down the length of the bordering slope to gauge the distance to the bottom.

  “It’s about a twelve or fourteen foot drop. I’ve got a belaying rope in my truck. It will hold anyone.”

  “I’ll go,” Donatiello quickly volunteered, not wanting Buford’s bastard to appear the hero.

  “No, I want you and Dailey to stay on scene to handle communications with the chief. Once word gets out what’s happening, the busybodies will be arriving, even in this God awful weather.” She watched the water drip off the brim of Linc’s hat. “Feel like getting some exercise?”

  “Sure, but I can check out the car alone. You’d be safer up here with your men.”

  Jess felt an invisible slap, and she took offense at his “be safe here,” remark. “Why? Because I’m a female and might get hurt?”

  “That’s one of the reasons.” Linc realized his natural protective instinct had just insulted Jessie Taylor in front of her patrolmen.

  Now wasn’t the time to discuss his archaic chauvinistic attitude. She stepped forward and stated with conviction, “I’m going down to that car, with or without you.”

  “Be right back.” Linc wasn’t happy, but standing around arguing with her in the pouring rain was wasting time. Once the rope was securely tied to the end of the light truck, he turned to Sergeant Taylor. “I don’t know about you, but I can maneuver better without this damn bulky raincoat. Besides, it adds too much weight.” Linc threw the coat on the back seat of Jessie’s radio car and passed her a pair of beige climbing gloves. “They’ll help prevent your hands from slipping. If you have no objection, Sergeant Taylor, I’ll go first.”

  This time, Jess didn’t argue with him. They were getting wetter by the minute. Linc took a firm grip on the line and made it effortlessly down the mud-slick slope to the river’s stone and sand surface. He ignored the needle thin rain beating against his face as his flashlight beam created a lighted path for Jess to follow. “Good girl,” he said, when she was on solid ground. She didn’t object when he wrapped his fingers around the upper part of her arm as they walked the short distance to the rocking tree limbs. The body-pounding wind and rumble of powerful rushing water reminded them of their precarious position.

  “Let’s see what we’ve got,” she shouted, approaching the open driver’s side door, praying this wouldn’t turn out to be a crime scene. The climbing gloves helped her keep a firm grip on the roof edge of the pitching car, while she moved her own flashlight, inspecting the dark interior. The air bag had deployed, but there wasn’t any sign of the mayor.

  Linc stood beside her and directed his light around the rear of the car. Black floor mats sloshed from the seeping river water. He paused when the beam picked up something that shouldn’t have been there. “Looks like the mayor might have had a passenger or became a passenger in his own vehicle,” he shouted. “Look.” Linc directed the stream of light to what appeared to be dark red blood on the back seat. Second nature had him taking out his cell phone to document their evidence.

  “I sure hope you’re wrong.” Jess had to shout above the thundering sound of angry water. “We don’t have a body. Until we get the blood tested, we can’t confirm the mayor is dead or alive.”

  Jess watched the water running down his handsome face. The leather band had come loose and a curtain of glossy black hair fell forward onto his shoulders. Dark, mysterious, the devil himself. Water dripped from the brim of her cap and she blinked, trying to get the picture out of her mind. At that moment, Mother Nature sent a powerful wave to attack the unsteady tree limbs. Jess gasped and threw her body against Linc. A natural instinct had him wrapping his arm about her and tightening his hold. They were soaking wet, but she never felt the cold. She suddenly remembered that the bright spotlights were aimed directly on the car, and them. Unless the patrolmen or volunteer firemen turned mute, tongues would be wagging tomorrow.

  Linc, too, realized they had an audience. “Let’s get out of here, Sergeant Taylor. I don’t know about you, but I’m soaked to the skin.”

  The rain started to let up by the time they got topside, but a blanket of low lying fog flirted with the red beams from the emergency vehicles, creating an eerie setting. Jess determined the vehicle was to be considered a crime scene. The Caddie would be brought topside, and a search for the mayor’s body would be conducted in the daylight hours. She updated the chief, and he told her to go home, but report to his office at nine o’clock in the morning. Jessie elected to stay behi
nd to spell her men guarding the bridge until one of the other units had cleared the other scenes.

  It was pushing three o’clock when Linc reluctantly returned home. He was tired, wet, and wanted nothing more than a hot shower and warm clothes. Linc opened the apartment door and walked into the powerful fist of Treig John Taylor.

  “You son-of-a-bitch! You’re supposed to be dead!”

  Chapter 8

  The powerful punch wasn’t enough to knock him out, but Linc staggered back. “Jesus H. Christ, you’ve still got fists of steel.”

  “All these years you let me believe you were dead!” Treig took a step back and glowered. “You look like a damn pirate! Why the hell are you all wet?”

  Linc put a hand to his throbbing jaw, and was trying to get over the shock of seeing his friend. “I’m glad to see you too. Give me ten minutes to get cleaned up and then I’ll answer all your questions.” Linc draped his wet jacket on the back of a kitchen chair. “There’s a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue in the cabinet the under the sink. I could use a drink.” He took a deep, reflective breath. “It’s been a helluva night.”

  He went to step away, but found he couldn’t move. Treig’s strong arms banded around him. “I’m so glad you’re not dead.”

  “Me, too,” Linc replied, returning his friend’s strong hug.

  Hot water pelted his chilled body, and he held his head under the pulsing stream. His mind was going in twenty directions. Sam’s prediction had come true and he asked himself, who had leaked Linc’s presence in Laurel Heights? How much should he tell his oldest friend about the threat against his mother?

  When Linc returned to the kitchen, dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt, TJ had made himself right at home and built a Dagwood sandwich from the assortment of cold cuts, cheeses, and bread in the refrigerator. Linc smiled at the tall glass of milk next to the plate. Margaret Taylor claimed she should have purchased a cow, considering how much milk her son drank. The bottle of Johnny Walker Blue sat on the table, along with two Flintstone jelly glasses.

  Treig’s well-toned football-player build was the same. He chose to keep his copper colored hair cropped in a short brush cut because he had a tendency to sweat. His dark brows shadowed deep blue eyes and edged the slanted scar just above the bridge of his nose. Things had gotten out of hand when they were playing an enthusiastic game of field hockey. A wayward stick collided with TJ’s forehead and he ended up with eight stitches, plus a permanent reminder of the winning game.

  Linc poured two fingers of his favorite drink and held out a glass to TJ. “Here’s to friendship.”

  Treig raised his glass in salute and took a small sip. “Man that is smooth. You won’t find that stuff in the local bar.”

  Linc kept it to himself that a serving averaged thirty-six dollars. “Who let the cat out of the bag and told you I was alive?”

  “Who do you think?” TJ took another bite of sandwich and washed it down with cold milk. No matter how much he ate and drank, he still maintained a thirty-eight inch waist. “When Sam mentioned taking the position of the short-order cook at the Spoonful, it got me to thinking and I wondered why Sallie Mae was hiring an outsider. I called her to confirm and it all came out, with you being alive and living above my mother’s garage.”

  Linc took another sip of scotch that added warmth to his chilled body. “I’m sorry I never got in touch with you. I was filled with so much hate when I left, I wanted nothing to do with this town ever again. Since returning, I’ve developed a deep sense of regret and realize I was selfish to shut you and the others out of my life. Again, I’m truly sorry.”

  TJ wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “When my mother told me you’d been killed, I got drunk for a month.” TJ tipped his head toward Linc. “Is that where you got hurt?”

  “Yes, but I’ve learned to live with it. Enough about me for now. Sam told me you’re an Alcoholic Beverage Control agent, working undercover with Nate Haines.”

  “Yesterday at the truck stop, I sensed something was off. Nate and Sam’s conversation was friendly, but I got the impression there were things they wanted to say, but couldn’t in front of me. You can fill me in later how you know Sallie Mae’s new cook, but first, where the hell have you been the past eighteen years? What brought you back to Laurel Heights after all this time?”

  “Ever heard of Adams Security and Investigations?”

  TJ’s blue eyes widened in recognition. “That’s you? I never made the connection. Your firm is one of the best agencies in the country.”

  “We have a good reputation,” Linc modestly replied. “I started the company when I got out of the Army Rangers, with the help and backing of two very good friends, Scott Landis and Russell Long. We served together.”

  “Long, a family by that name owns that fancy cabin on the reservoir.”

  “That’s Russell’s parents. The first job I had when I left here was working on a Long construction site.” Linc rolled his almost empty glass between his fingers. “As for why I’ve returned, Buford split his estate between me and the Town of Laurel Heights. If I don’t live here for a year, everything goes to charity.”

  “Leave it to that old reprobate to screw up your life.” Treig’s voice was filled with disgust, remembering how hard Buford had made Lincoln’s teenage years.

  “Oh, it gets better.” Linc proceeded to reveal the town’s poor financial status and the petition to drill for natural gas. “Someone is opposed to Laurel Heights’ financial resurgence and sent threatening emails to your mother stating she should vote against the proposal or pay the consequences, and that includes her family.”

  Treig sprang up from the chair and accidently nudged the table, almost spilling the rest of his milk. “Son-of-a-bitch! What’s Jessie doing about this shit?”

  “That’s the kicker. Your mother wants to keep everything confidential, especially from Jessie and you. The judge is afraid to bring the peril home and is worried, especially, about Edith. She’s a mother bear trying to protect all her cubs.”

  “Well, she is way off-base in her thinking, Goddamn it!” Treig sat down and knocked back the golden liquid in his glass. “Knowing you’ve got my back and are watching over them takes the edge off my worry. How did you get involved in all this, other than your inheritance?”

  “Before I left Laurel Heights, I thanked your parents for taking me in and hoped to pay them back some day. Your mother called in my marker. I made a deliberate splash returning to Laurel Heights and got arrested. My “punishment” is to live here for the next three months as her handyman, so I can conduct an investigation. I’m not totally alone. Sam works undercover for me and is my eyes and ears at the Spoonful. Unfortunately, my pretense as a devil-may-care rich playboy is shaky. A “get out of town, or the people close to you will get hurt,” note was shoved under my windshield wiper when I came out of the Spoonful the other day. I overnighted it to Danni Snow, Nate’s sister, who is a crime scene investigator, to check for prints. My tech is trying to backtrack the origin of the emails sent to your mother. After last night, the situation has gotten a lot more complicated. I came in looking like a drowned rat because the mayor’s car went over the bridge at Youghiogheny Crossing. Humperdinck’s body is missing and there’s evidence of foul play.”

  Treig leaned his strong forearms on his jean-covered knees and gave his friend a troubled glance. “This is a big pile of shit. I’m not going to tell you what to do because you are following my mother’s orders, but keeping Jessie in the dark is wrong. She’s a good cop and would never let anything happen to Edie or our mom.”

  “I agree, but it’s up to your mother to confess all to Jessie. Right now, the judge is in Pittsburgh on business. When she returns, I want to install an alarm in the house. A couple of years ago, I branched out to commercial and residential security systems.”

  “It’s a great idea, but it will raise a red flag and Jess will start asking questions. Knowing my cagey sister, she’s probably run your plates.”

&nb
sp; “I already anticipated her snooping. My truck is registered to me personally with my condo address, and I’ve been paying cash for everything.”

  “Sounds like you are one step ahead of her.”

  “Now that we’ve found out about me, what’s an ABC Agent doing in this area? How did you get here? I didn’t see a vehicle when I pulled into the driveway.”

  “Nate drove me over to the Spoonful and Sallie Mae dropped me off here. He’s been investigating a company suspected of smuggling high end liquor and un-taxed cigarettes. The FBI task force brought me in to cover PA. The company has a fleet of trucks and their own railroad line, so they have unlimited resources for contraband distribution. I’d like to ask for a leave of absence to give you a hand, but that would blow my cover and screw up Nate’s case. When I’m on assignment, I don’t communicate with either my mother or sister. If there’s an emergency, they have my supervisor’s number. I might be able to swing a couple of days off when we get back from this run.”

  “If you do, how will you explain that you know I’m alive?”

  “I won’t. I’ll act surprised and punch you in the mouth again,” Treig grinned.

  Linc decided he’d better reveal his feelings for Jessie. “There’s something else you should know. I’ve fallen for Jessie, hard.” Linc put a hand to his sore jawbone and wiggled it back and forth. “If you want to hit me again, try the other side of my face.”

  “My freckle-faced sister! Man, I never saw it coming. At least I won’t have to run a background check,” he laughed and then sobered. “I’ve no problem with you having tender feelings for Jessie. The son-of-a-bitch she was married to did a job on her and I won’t let that happen again.” Treig gave his friend a hard stare. “If you hurt her, I’ll do more than punch you in the face.”

  “I consider myself forewarned. Come on, I’ll take you back to the motel before it gets light and someone sees you. We can take a walk down memory lane some other time.”

 

‹ Prev