Broken Road (Limelight Series Book 1)

by Piper Davenport

  “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

  “If you could let the guys know what’s going on, I’d appreciate it,” I said. “I should be back in Montgomery in a few days and we can talk then.”

  We wrapped up our conversation just as I reached the Starlight Diner. I pushed through the double doors, the familiar smell of coffee, stale cigarette smoke, and breakfast on the griddle momentarily transporting me back in time. I couldn’t recount the hours I’d spent in this diner.

  I noticed a stern looking man in a dark blue suit sitting with his back against a wall, eyes on the exits, and since he looked totally out of place, I assumed this was Agent Quinn. I made my way to the table and gave him a nod. “Agent Quinn?”

  “Mr. Nelson. Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking my hand as I sat down.

  “Please call me Bam.”

  “Bam. Thanks for meeting with me so early. I know you got in late last night, but I’m on a bit of time crunch and so wanted to get started as soon as possible.”

  “What’s all this about exactly?” I asked impatiently.

  “Simply put, I believe your mother’s murder may somehow be linked to an ongoing FBI investigation into the Dixie Mafia. I would have never found the possible connection had Mack not asked me to look into your stolen money.”

  Special Agent Jaxon Quinn seemed like he was all business. He looked totally out of place in this small town diner and yet completely confident. I had no idea if this guy was going to be a straight shooter or full of shit, but Mack asked me to trust him, so that’s what I was going to do.

  “Chas Chambers has serious ties to the Dixie Mafia,” he continued. “They bankrolled his earliest business ventures when he arrived here from England twenty years ago. He proved to be a capable earner for them, and knew how to handle himself when things got rough. It wasn’t long before he was known as trustworthy within the organization, and not much long after that he started skimming from them.”

  “I’d love to say I’m shocked,” I said flatly.

  “You knew about his ties to the Dixie Mafia?”

  “No, but I’m not surprised that piece of shit is involved with them. It wasn’t my choice to bring him on. I never liked the guy and I hope he rots in the shittiest federal prison there is, but I still don’t see what any of this has to do with my mother.”

  “Upon looking for the money Chas had stolen from your band, I saw that we already had a file on him due to his mafia connections. Your name was in his file due to him being Roses for Anna’s manager, which isn’t strange, but I did notice a flag on your name.”

  “What do you mean a flag?”

  “You were listed as potential witness in your mother’s murder case and the recorded statement you gave to the police was attached.”

  “Why does the FBI have a file on my mother’s case? Wouldn’t that all have been handled by the local police?”

  “Yes, but about a year ago the bureau noticed a pattern of unsolved murders throughout Alabama, Louisiana, Arkansas, and Mississippi, that appeared to date back over fifteen years. The killings were identical, and all in Dixie Mafia territory. Once I saw the details of your mother’s murder, and how little the local PD did to solve it, I knew we had another example.”

  “Example of what exactly?”

  “Of a Dixie Mafia hit.”

  Lights flickered behind my eyes and my field of vision narrowed. I took a deep breath to keep from blacking out. “A hit? Why would my mother have been executed by the mafia?”

  “All I can tell you right now, is we’re building a case against some key players. I have some big questions and there may be people within this town that can provide answers.”

  “I don’t know anything and have barely spoken to anyone in this town since I left. I can’t see how I can be any help to you.”

  “People in this town know you, Bam, and I have a feeling they will talk to you a lot sooner and easier than they would talk to me.”

  “Maybe. But if people didn’t talk twelve years ago, why would they talk now?” I asked.

  “Because… I’m the one asking the questions this time,” he said in a low, controlled tone.

  Well, shit.

  Bam

  AS JAXON AND I made our way down Main Street, I tried to wrap my mind around everything I’d learned so far. The morning’s heavy dose of caffeine coursed through my veins, but still, I was more tired than I’d ever been. Every thought that wasn’t about my mother’s case or Elwood was reserved for Lucy. I wished I hadn’t told her not to come. Even though I didn’t want my past to interfere with our relationship, I also didn’t want this distance to interfere with our future together. I simply couldn’t get her out of my head.

  We moved toward the office of Dr. Wayne Greene, who was not only one of the town’s most beloved family physicians, but he’d also served as the county medical examiner up until a few years ago. He’d been the man who’d delivered me, and the same man who had to perform my mother’s autopsy. He was the first person of interest on Jaxon’s list and I wasn’t looking forward to this visit. I knew I’d have to relive her death all over again once I’d agreed to help start digging into her case again, but knowing we’d be talking to Dr. Greene made all of this somehow feel even more real.

  “What kind of information are you hoping the doctor will provide?” I asked.

  Dr. Green’s office was located in the oldest part of town, in a converted historic home, as were many of the local businesses. Elwood was a town of only a few thousand people, many of which had ties to this community well before the Civil War. Things moved slowly here and changed at an even slower pace.

  “I’m looking for any and all information that is not in his official report,” Jaxon answered. “The report I have gives little detail about her injuries and there’s what looks to me like an inconstancy regarding her time of death.”

  We reached the office and entered. Behind the front desk was an elderly woman that must have been well into her eighties.

  “Good morning, may I help you?” she asked pleasantly.

  “Yes ma’am. We have an appointment with Dr. Greene. I’m special agent Quinn and this is—”

  “Beau Nelson, is that you?”

  As soon as she spoke my name I realized who she was. Miss Bunny was our school nurse when we were kids, and had patched me up more than any other student in history according to her. I was constantly getting into fights, falling from high places that I shouldn’t have been, and jumping my BMX bike off of homemade ramps that were made from pallet scraps.

  “Miss Bunny, you look as beautiful as ever,” I said smiling.

  “And you look like you’ve been fighting again, young man.” Her frail index finger pointed toward the faint remains of my bruised eye.

  “I’m afraid I’m guilty as charged ma’am,” I said sheepishly, then tried to change the subject. “You’re working for the doc now, huh?”

  “I’ve been his assistant for almost ten years… since my retirement.”

  “So you didn’t work for Dr. Greene at the time of Anna Nelson’s death?” Jaxon asked.

  “No, I was still the nurse at the elementary school at the time, but of course I remember that awful ordeal. That poor dear, she was so young and beautiful. Her death was such a shock to all of us in Elwood, and of course my heart broke for little Beau.”

  She looked at me with a sadness that instantly reminded me of why I left. The final blow up with my father was what had ultimately convinced me to leave, but, if I were being honest, I had one foot out of town already. After my mother’s death, I couldn’t stand to have people look at me with pity in their eyes. I didn’t want to be viewed as some sort of wounded bird or victim. I couldn’t even stand to hear the sound of my own name once my mother was gone, so I left, shed as much of the past as I could, and never looked back.

  Just then, Dr. Green appeared, welcomed us, and invited his into his office. Much like the rest of Elwood and its citizens, he was exactly as I
remembered him, only a little older. He was a round man with a bright pink face and a stark white mustache. He’d always worn a bow tie and spoke in a deep rich baritone southern drawl.

  “Tell me, gentlemen. What can I do for the Federal Bureau of Investigation and for our local celebrity here?” he asked jovially.

  “I’m investigating the murder of Anna Nelson and would like to ask you a few questions regarding your autopsy report,” Jaxon said.

  “Oh my, well, 2005 was some time ago,” Dr. Greene replied sounding somewhat evasive.

  “I understand that it’s been a while, but anything you might remember about the case would be really helpful to us,” Jaxon said as he handed a file folder to Dr. Greene, who opened it and examined the contents carefully.

  “Well, it sure looks like this report is in order. My notes are as I remember them, and everything looks correct to me. I didn’t have anything more to add then, and I’m afraid I don’t have anything to add now.” He looked up at me. “I’m sorry, son, I’m not sure I can help you.”

  “I think you can, Dr. Greene,” Jaxon said. “Perhaps you recall something that wasn’t in your report.”

  “How is that exactly? Everything I know is in my original report, which I’ve just told you, looks good to me.”

  Jaxon crossed his arms and stared pointedly at the doctor. “I find that fascinating, because your report seems vague, incomplete, and possibly inaccurate.”

  “Inaccurate?” Dr. Greene’s pink face took on a beet red hue. “I’ll have you know, I was this county’s medical examiner for twenty-five years and no one here has ever questioned my findings on a case or accused me of misconduct.”

  Jaxon paused. “I never said anything about misconduct doctor, only that your report is lacking details and quite possibly full of mistakes. Unless… they aren’t mistakes at all. Are you covering something up, Dr. Greene?”

  He sputtered with indignation. “I don’t have time for this, I have patients to see―”

  “Dr. Greene, why does your report list the time of death at approximately 9:00 p.m.?” Jaxon continued unfazed.

  “Because that’s when she died. Now I really must ask you gentlemen to leave, I have nothing more to say on this matter.”

  Jaxon pulled out a small notepad from his pocket and his fingers scanned one of its pages. “The body Anna Nelson was found at a little after 10:00 p.m. by a man named… ah, here it is… Grady Jones after he noticed his dogs barking at something in his field. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, but―”

  Jaxon ignored him and carried on with his questioning, “Then please explain to me how her body was in full rigor if she had only been dead for about an hour. Rigor mortis takes at least three to six hours to fully set in, which would’ve placed her actual time of death somewhere between 4:00 p.m. and 7:00 p.m. According to phone records, Mr. Nelson spoke with his mother for the last time at 4:19 p.m., so that narrows the timeline down a bit. Given when they last spoke, the state of the victim’s body, and the remote location where she was found, I’d calculate the time of death window to be closer to 5:00 p.m. to 7:00 p.m., and certainly well before 9:00 p.m.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing that you’re not a medical examiner, young man. Now, if you’ll please excuse me―”

  “One more thing, doctor, then we’ll leave you to your patients, although I don’t recall seeing any in your waiting room when we came in.”

  Dr. Greene shifted in his seat.

  “Why does your report list the cause of death as a single gunshot wound to the back of the head?”

  “I don’t understand the question,” Dr. Greene replied. “I wrote that in the report because, that’s how she died; a single gunshot to the back of the head.”

  “Then why were there two bullet holes?”

  I felt my blood run cold. What the hell was he talking about? It had always been reported that my mother was shot once, likely in a carjacking gone wrong. I turned to face Jaxon but his gaze was fixed on the doctor, who had now risen to his feet.

  “I must ask you both to leave right now or I’m going to call the sheriff. You have my final report and I’ve told you I don’t know anything else. I won’t stand here and have you lob accusations at me and my quality of work.” He turned to face me. “I’m sorry about your mama, Beau, and about your daddy, I really tried to help him―”

  “I don’t give a shit about the last days of my father,” I snapped. “If you have information about my mother’s murder and you are holding out on us, this town is going to have another homicide on its hands.” I took one step toward the doctor and Jaxon stepped in front of me.

  “That’ll be all for now, Dr. Greene,” Jaxon said. “Thank you for your time. We’ll be in touch soon.” Jaxon ushered me out of the office and through the empty lobby, past a very concerned looking Miss Bunny.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I protested as we made our way out the front door. “You said yourself that he’s lying, or at least covering something up. Why aren’t we in there grilling him more?”

  “Patience, Bam, you can only push someone so far. Besides, now he knows we’re onto something and will likely reach out to whoever else is involved. This could be a way for us to start flushing the others out of hiding

  “Whoever else is involved? You actually think this is some sort of conspiracy? That my mother’s death had something to do with the Dixie Mafia and that Dr. Greene covered it up?”

  “Actually Bam, that’s exactly what I think.”

  * * *

  The next few days were the worst trip down memory lane I could imagine. Jaxon and I interviewed what felt like half the town, but made little progress. The people of Elwood were friendly but very guarded. Most folks around here didn’t trust outsiders or the government, and so were reluctant to speak with Jaxon. Sometimes my presence helped and sometimes it backfired. Some people felt that I had “big timed” them by leaving and becoming successful, and some treated me like a rock star. I didn’t know which was worse. Most people simply didn’t want to talk about my mother’s murder, or acted like they didn’t know what we were talking about.

  “We’ve been at this for several days and have come up with jack-shit,” I said as we pulled onto the private road that led to the Jones farm.

  This was to be the last interview of the day and the one I had been dreading the most. Grady Jones had found my mother’s body in his back field and called the police right away. At first he was very helpful, but became very tight lipped after just a few days into the investigation. Then the investigation came to a grinding halt, and the case was put on the back burner as a possible “robbery motivated homicide.”

  “I know it’s tough Bam, but try to be patient,” he responded.

  “Patient? It’s been twelve years? How much longer does my mother have to wait for justice? What the fuck are we doing here? These people probably won’t want to talk to us anymore than anyone else in town. We’re spinning our wheels and wasting time.”

  “I’m on your side, Bam, and believe it or not, we are making progress.”

  “Progress? How do you figure?”

  “Dr. Greene is clearly hiding something, and I get the general feeling from the locals that the folks in town are afraid.”

  I rubbed my forehead, warding off a headache. “Afraid of what? The Dixie Mafia? You still haven’t told me why you think my mother would be involved with them, or why they would have killed her.”

  “There are things I can’t tell you yet, and there are details I’m still trying to bring into focus before I say anything definitively. This is our last stop, so let’s see what we can find here and go from there,” he said reassuringly.

  The Jones place was a small soybean farm on the edge of town. Honestly, I was surprised it was still up and running, as it was on the verge of failure when I had left. Not only had the farm not failed, but it appeared to be thriving. The main house, barn, and equipment all seemed to be in tip top shape, and the size of the crop acre
age had increased noticeably.

  “I thought you said this place was a dump,” Jaxon said as we walked toward the front porch.

  “It was back in the day, believe me. As kids we’d tear through these fields and raise all sorts of hell. There was little more than dirt and rusted out pickup trucks around here.”

  Jaxon nodded toward the south field. “Looks like Mr. Jones’s fortune has changed for the better while you’ve been away.”

  “Indeed,” I replied softly as we reached the front porch. We didn’t get any further when Grady Jones flew out of his front door holding a double barrel shotgun.

  “I know why you boys are here and you can turn right back around,” Grady said.

  “Mr. Jones, we’d just like to ask you a few questions about—”

  “You deaf? I told you I know why y’all are here, I don’t care. I want you off my property.” He raised his gun ever so slightly. “Now.”

  Jaxon sighed. “Mr. Jones, if you don’t lower that weapon right now, I’m going to show you my gun. I’ll also show you my shield and credentials, and then you can see the back of my shitty rental car. The next thing you’ll see after that is the inside of an FBI black site cell, and trust me when I tell you, there is one closer to here than you’d think.”

  Grady lowered his gun, but kept the same shit sniffing expression on his face. He had always been a mean bastard, but this was more than typical grumpy old man bullshit.

  “Thank you. Now, as I was saying, we’d like to have a chat with you and I promise we won’t take up much of your time,” Jaxon continued.

  “You won’t be taking up any of time. I told you I want you off my property and I meant it. You can talk to my lawyer if you want, but I got nothin’ to tell you.”

  “Thank you. That would be great,” he replied.

  “What’s that now?” Grady asked.

  “Your lawyer’s number. I’d love to get that from you.”

  “The fuck you talkin’ about, boy?”