“It would’ve brought thousands of jobs to the community,” Dorchester said.
“Yes,” Broadman agreed. “It’s all water under the bridge now. I’m surprised you brought it up.”
“We’re not convinced it is water under the bridge,” I said then explained to him that we thought the casino talk might’ve started back up again. “Had he mentioned it to you?”
“No,” Broadman said in surprise, “but he did schedule an appointment with me for next week. I thought maybe he wanted to discuss trust business, but my receptionist, Lucy, said he evaded the reason for his appointment.”
“Can you tell us the names of the men you met with during the land sale negotiations?” Dorchester asked.
“Sure, I can,” he said confidently then proceeded to rattle them off the top of his head. “Drew McCarren was present a few times with his lawyer, Rick Spizer, and then there was Michael Larkin and Tommy Thompson. Michael was the development guy, and Tommy was the money man.” I sat up straighter when I heard that McCarren had the same attorney as Nate and Jonathon.
“How did the negotiations go?” I asked. “Were there any tense moments or disagreements over the terms?”
“There was only one heated moment in the beginning,” Broadman told us. “Apparently, Drew McCarren doesn’t usually get involved in the actual negotiations because he has a team for that. Lawrence wanted to be able to look McCarren in the eye and assess if he was a man of his word. Larkin was pissed because he felt like Lawrence doubted his character. Larkin implied that Lawrence’s demand for an in-person meeting with McCarren would be a deal breaker, but it seemed to have the reverse effect. McCarren appeared to be very honest with Lawrence.”
“You didn’t get an underhanded or sneaky vibe from any of them at any time?” Dorchester asked.
“Honestly, no. It was going to be a circumstance where both parties seemed to come out ahead in the deal.”
“One last question,” I told him, “and then we’ll let you get back to your day. Alice mentioned that the nephews were making noise about Mr. Robertson being unfit to handle his affairs. Is that true?”
“Lawrence did tell me that, but there was never any evidence to substantiate his claim. He couldn’t tell me of a single incident where one, or both, threatened him in any way.”
“Odd,” I remarked. I wondered if perhaps Robertson was paranoid when it came to his nephews. I rose to my feet, and Dorchester did too. We pulled cards out from our jacket pockets and handed them to Broadman. “Please let us know if anything comes up.”
“The safe deposit box,” Dorchester mentioned to me then looked at Broadman. “Does the box need to be audited by the county clerk before we can look through the contents?”
“Lawrence had a trust, so there will be no probate. The contents belong to the trust, and I’m the trustee, so you won’t need a warrant to search the box. I’ll check with the bank to see if they’ll accept my permission in writing or if I need to be present.”
“We’d like to get in there today, or tomorrow at the latest,” Dorchester told him.
“That won’t be a problem, Detectives. I’ll rearrange my schedule if needed,” Broadman assured us.
I’d dealt with lawyers hundreds of times during my career, and I could honestly say that none of them had been as helpful as Rylan. “Thank you for your assistance. We look forward to hearing from you,” I said, shaking the man’s hand once more.
There wasn’t anything local left for us to look at so we headed to Cincinnati to update the task force on what we learned. We ordered in lunch and gathered together in the large conference room we’d taken over.
“This is what we’ve got so far,” I said, addressing the task force after lunch. I told them about Bandowe telling us that Nate mentioned investing in a casino and how Dorchester told me about the failed attempt to build a casino in Carter County in 2013. “Since Nate was killed in Carter County, I started to question if Nate’s death could be related to resumed talks of building a casino. It seemed like a long shot until we found the landowner shot dead in his home yesterday.”
“Let me guess, he was shot with a forty-five, and both the casing and bullet are missing,” Jade said.
“The M.E. hasn’t provided the caliber of the bullet, but the entrance and exit wounds look consistent with a forty-five to me. You’re right about the casing and the bullet, though; neither were found at the crime scene. It would appear to be the same person who killed Nate Turner and Owen Smithson. We need physical evidence and a name instead of supposition and guesses.” I blew out a breath in frustration.
“There are two trains of thought here,” Dorchester said, speaking up. “They might’ve been killed to prevent the casino from going up, or maybe they were killed by a competing casino who didn’t want attention drawn away from them. We’re not ruling anything else out, but these seem to be the most likely scenarios.”
“We need to start with McCarren Consortium,” I said. “He’s a Cincinnati-based guy. What do you know about him?”
“Douche,” Weston said in disgust. “He’s another one who vice was looking at for prostitution and drugs.”
“He has a reputation for being ruthless,” Harris said.
“Does anyone have a contact inside the Casino Control Commission?” I asked.
“Paul does,” Harris and Weston said at the same time. Of course, Paul does.
I rattled off the names of the guys involved in the meeting, except for McCarren’s attorney. I was saving that little bombshell for last. “I need you guys to dig up everything you can on these men. I want to know about any hint of illegal activity they’re suspected in.” I paused for dramatic effect. “We found the one string that’s connected to both Turner and McCarren.” That had everyone’s attention. I told them about Robertson’s notes and the initials he used to identify people at the meetings. “Robertson’s attorney confirmed that Rick Spizer was the attorney representing McCarren Consortium.”
“Whoa,” Jade said.
“That could be huge,” Harris said.
“We’re about to find out how huge it is,” I replied. “The connection,” I said to clarify, earning a lot of laughs from the team.
Dorchester divided tasks while I took my phone out and stared at it for several long moments. I dreaded the call I needed to make, but I couldn’t see a way around it. We’d gotten off to a terrible start, but I had to put that behind me. I just hoped that he could too because I was certain I’d need his assistance to solve these three crimes.
My call went to voicemail. I left my contact information, stressed the importance of my call, and asked Silver to get back to me at his earliest convenience. I disconnected the call with low expectations for a prompt response, but he proved me wrong when he returned my call within fifteen minutes.
“Detective Wyatt,” I said, answering the phone.
“You rang, Detective,” Jonathon Silver said sleepily into the phone. It was sometimes easy to forget that some people slept while you were awake and worked while you slept.
“I’m sorry that I woke you, Mr. Silver. There’s been a development in your brother’s case, and I need your help.”
“Are you serious?” he asked, suddenly sounding alert. “Um, give me an hour to wake up and get my crap together. Where do you want to meet me?”
“You name the place and time, and we’ll meet you,” I said.
“We?” Silver asked.
“Yes, you met my partner,” I reminded him.
“Oh.” He sounded disappointed. “I was hoping you were coming alone.” I was somewhat flattered by his attention, but that was all. My heart and body belonged to a man I adored more than life.
“Not going to happen,” I assured him. “Dorchester and I will meet you. When and where?” I asked him.
Silver let out a dissatisfied sigh and said, “Four o’clock in my office. I’ll even wear clothes this time.”
“We’ll be there,” I replied, ignoring the rest of his comment.
I appreciated his attempt at humor to lighten the tone of the conversation, but I felt it was better to keep things very professional between us and laughing at his jokes might’ve given him the wrong impression.
I hung up from Silver and sent a text to Josh. Promising break in the case. Interview will run late. Hope to be home around 6. Love you! It was Josh’s night to work late so he wouldn’t even know I wasn’t home, but that didn’t matter. I wasn’t fucking up the best thing that ever happened to me.
Dorchester came over once he finished and I updated him on our interview appointment. “Maybe he’ll keep his clothes on this time,” he commented.
“He said he would,” I replied.
“You asked him?” Dorchester wanted to know.
“No, he volunteered after he hinted that he wanted me to come alone,” I told him.
Dorchester blew out a low whistle. “What did you say?”
“I told him it wasn’t going to happen.”
“Looks like we need to find your other boy toy, Paul, and have a chat with him about his contacts in the Casino Control Commission,” Dorchester joked. I pinned him with my bad cop glare, letting him know I didn’t think he was that funny. “Okay, I was over the line. I won’t do it again.”
“Yeah, I won’t hold my breath,” I told him.
“I wouldn’t either if I was you.” Dorchester whistled a jaunty tune as he walked away.
My phone buzzed with an incoming text, I knew it was going to be from Josh before I even looked. Crossing my fingers it goes well. Be safe. Love you. Those ten words gave me energy and propelled me out the door to find Paul. I could start making some phone calls and make use of my down time while we waited to meet with Silver.
I HAD WEIRD-ASS DREAMS involving my new neighbor and didn’t sleep very well. They weren’t sexy dreams or anything to be ashamed of, but I didn’t talk about them with Gabe. He had enough on his plate already without adding my paranoid premonitions to the mix. Included in the myriad emotions, was the guilt I felt about my new neighbor.
Even though I remained unsure of his reasons for being in town, and I in no way believed it was coincidental, it was wrong of me to blatantly lie to him. Finding out about him losing his husband and the ways he tried to right the wrongs punched me hard in the gut. Being skeptical of his presence was one thing, but being outright rude wasn’t acceptable. Letting down my defenses and falling in love with Gabriel Wyatt changed how I viewed the world. Pre-Gabe, I wouldn’t have felt bad about my behavior with Emory, but post-Gabe, I realized that our first impressions weren’t always accurate.
I had set out on my morning run with Buddy, hoping to get the blood pumping and wake myself up for the long day ahead of me. I noticed that the lights were on inside Emory’s house as I ran by and I wondered what his life was like before the accident. What did he do for a living before his world turned upside down? How long had he known his husband? Random questions kept popping up, and the inquisitive side to my personality was quickly taking over the cautious side.
I decided to stop at The Brew for a cup of strong coffee and a pastry on my way back through town. I couldn’t take Buddy inside with me, but there was always someone willing to wait with him outside while I ran in for a coffee. I pretended not to see Mrs. Perkins give Buddy a bite of her strawberry cream cheese pastry.
There were a few people ahead of me in line, and I took that time to peruse the baked goodies in the display counter. My eyes caught on the large chocolate chip cookies and thought they’d make a nice welcome to the neighborhood gift. I doubted they were as good as my homemade ones, but I only gave my cookies to Gabe, literally and figuratively, otherwise I might have a mutiny on my hands.
I ordered a half dozen cookies and a lemon poppy seed muffin for myself with my coffee. “Can you put those cookies in a cute box? They’re a gift,” I remarked.
I accepted my goodies and turned from the counter to leave when I saw a familiar figure coming through the door. It was all I could do not to groan out loud at being in the same room as Rocky Beaumont. I had never forgiven the way he treated Georgia, who I was proud to call my friend, even though she wasn’t perfect. I had forgiven his second wife for the hateful things she said to Georgia before her death because I felt her genuine sorrow for the way she treated Georgia. We all screwed up in life and deserved a second chance. Rocky had been given plenty chances to prove that he had an ounce of decency inside him, but he never did. He was a user, a liar, and a motherfucking cheater.
I might not have groaned out loud, but my facial expression must’ve given me away because Rocky narrowed his eyes and scrutinized my reaction. I told myself to keep my mouth shut and not betray any of the secrets Gabe accidentally spilled about Rocky having an affair with Commissioner Wallace. I nodded politely at the mayor then walked right past him and out the door without a word.
“Thank you, Mrs. Perkins, for hanging out with Buddy.”
“It was my pleasure, dear. Buddy’s such a delightful boy. He reminds me of the dog I had growing up. His name was Baxter, and he was a lab and shepherd mix too.” Mrs. Perkins gave Buddy’s ears a good scratching before she said her goodbyes and walked in the opposite direction of my house or we would’ve walked with her.
Buddy sniffed the air hoping for another treat, but he knew better than to expect sugary sweets from his dads. I planned to give him one of the homemade dog cookies made from sweet potatoes that I bought from Brook’s over the weekend, but only after we made a quick stop at Emory’s to give him my peace offering.
“A word please, Josh,” came a hissing, angry request behind me.
I turned slowly and faced Rocky Beaumont. “Mayor,” I replied, not even trying to hide my contempt for the man.
Rocky closed the small distance between us and lowered his voice. “Listen to me very carefully,” he said in a menacing voice, “I’ll make your life a living hell if you breathe a word of what your boyfriend told you.”
I stood as tall as my five-ten frame allowed, which happened to be several inches over his short, stocky build, and stared him down. Josh Roman backed down from no one, and the pissant mayor was no exception. “Gabe is a man of honor who never talks about his cases,” I told the offensive man. Rocky didn’t need to know that my man let his secret slip in a moment of weakness and it wasn’t like the mayor was going to know firsthand how magic my hands were.
“You know my secret,” he hissed. “I can see it in your eyes.”
“A person would need to give a shit about you to want to know your secrets,” I replied. “I promise you that I don’t give a damn about your personal life.” I stepped even closer, causing him to back up. “As for your threat, who the fuck do you think you are? Did you threaten me or my business just now? Your position as mayor in this town is basically for decoration. You don’t have any real authority here, Rocky. You ride around on the back of a convertible during parades and have ribbon cutting ceremonies at businesses that the county commissioners approve or deny. All the county commissioners are my clients, or they’re spouses of my clients, so don’t think you’ll get them to shut me down, asshole.” By that time, Buddy had picked up on my anger and began growling at the reason for it.
Rocky flinched like he didn’t know I owned a pair or something. “Well, I…”
“Don’t threaten to malign Gabriel and me because you’re a pathetic piece of shit.” Subtle was not my middle name. I almost slipped and said something about not keeping it in his pants. His affair with Nadine while married to Georgia was public knowledge, but I doubted Rocky would believe that was the affair I meant. I refused to do anything that caused Gabe to look poorly in the eyes of the public he valiantly served, unlike the sniveling, scoundrel who stood before me.
“Who do you think you are, you little fa…”
“Is there a problem here?” A voice I didn’t recognize interrupted Rocky before he could finish what he was going to say. I turned an irritated face on the interloper because I really wanted to hear what my m
ayor thought about me. My eyes widened a bit when I saw it was my new neighbor and the reason for my sleepless night. “Josh, are you okay?” Emory asked, looking between Rocky and me. His concern showed in the etched groove in his brow.
“We’re fine,” Rocky said, stepping back. “Thanks for clearing the air, Josh.”
“Anytime you need me to straighten you out.” My fake smile was met with a sneer.
“Wow, that was intense,” Emory said once Rocky went back inside the coffee shop. “I’m sorry that I interrupted you, but I feared for that man’s safety if he let loose the word he was about to use.”
“I wouldn’t have hit him no matter how badly I might’ve wanted to,” I told him.
“I was thinking more along the lines of what your boyfriend would do to him,” Emory said, adding a smile.
“Yeah, there’s that,” I agreed.
“Not that I don’t think you can handle yourself,” he amended quickly. “You were doing fine all on your own.”
“I was, wasn’t I?” I asked but spoke again before he could continue. “Listen, Buddy and I were on our way to your house.”
“You were?”
“Yes,” I said, reaching into the bag and pulling out the box of cookies I bought for him. I held the box out to him and said, “A peace offering from me for being a jerk last night.”
“I’m allergic,” Emory said.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, pulling the box back then realized by the smile on his face that I was getting played. “You don’t even know what’s inside,” I told him.
“I know things,” he said jokingly, but the smile fell off his face when I stiffened. “Did you research my name, Josh?”
“Asks the psychic,” I mumbled.
“You did!” Emory blew out a frustrated breath. “Is that why you were bringing me a… treat? You either felt bad about what happened to me, or you’re afraid of what I might know. Which is it?”
Dyed and Gone to Heaven (Curl Up and Dye Mysteries, #3) Page 11