Ashes and Bone

by Stacy Green

  Hendricks takes over for Jaymee, and she rushes toward me. A long second later, her lips are on mine, her hands wet and cold and beautiful.

  “I love you,” she’s saying over and over. I think I say it back.

  To our right is a strangled cry. It’s Cage. He’s holding Dani, lifting her off the ground. She’s still limp. Jaymee stills. I can’t breathe again.

  And then Dani’s arms slowly lift and circle Cage’s shoulders.

  Jaymee starts to cry. I suck in a breath of spring air. Still safe in Cage’s arms, Dani twists her head until her gaze finds us. She smiles and then sticks her tongue out at Jaymee.

  Now Jaymee is laughing through her tears, and I lay back against the grass. The sky is a brilliant blue—the brightest I’ve seen. A few wispy clouds stretch here and there, but they only add to the day’s beauty. A second pair of birds fly ahead, squawking at each other. They disappear into the trees, still arguing.

  All around me is chaos, people shouting as the house continues to sink. The sound of Jeb’s bawling. Cage shouting at him, and Dani trying to get him to stop.

  I lay still, gazing up at the blue sky.

  39

  “You’re going to screw up the steaks.” Nick couldn’t help but hover over his former brother-in-law. “The secret is to flip them only once, you know. Otherwise that messes up the flavor.”

  “I think I know how to cook a steak.” Cage shot him a glare. “You’re still supposed to be resting. So sit down and shut it.”

  Nick sank into one of the comfy chairs that decorated Ironwood’s freshly poured patio. The reconstruction of the screened-in porch wasn’t complete, but Cage insisted on getting the patio in for the rest of the spring. Nick had to admit it was a good decision. It was a beautiful night to sit outside and appreciate the open air and being alive. “I’m fine.”

  And he was. His lungs had healed in the hospital, his ribs were working on it. After numerous rounds of testing and shots, he, Jaymee, and Dani had all been given clean bills of health. So this warm March evening was about celebration.

  Thank God Cage had gotten Dani’s message. The one item he hadn’t told her or Jaymee about—the note Nick had left in the cartridge box—had saved them all.

  “I can’t believe you let him eat off the table.” Dani emerged from the house carrying a bottle of wine and four glasses. Mutt rushed by her and quickly stashed himself behind Nick’s legs.

  “I didn’t exactly let him.” Jaymee followed, looking like she was trying not to laugh. “He just started chewing before I could stop him.”

  Dani rolled her eyes. “We’re down half a loaf of bread.” She stood on tiptoes to kiss Cage. “Did you hear from Gina?”

  “Yep. Margaret is being tried for first-degree murder of Ben. Guess the grand jury didn’t believe Booth had convinced her to try to kill for him.”

  “But he helped,” Dani said. “She stuck the needle into him, but Booth had to do the rest.”

  “Her idea, though. And serves her right. She was a hell of a lot more involved in this than her husband. Still says she didn’t know anything about Beau Asher killing Emery Lewis, though. She would have spoken up about that.”

  “Sure she would have,” Dani said. “You don’t spend that many years with someone without knowing their dark secrets. She probably didn’t care. Plus, her husband was dumb enough to believe Booth when he threatened Margaret, so I don’t think he was very good at keeping secrets from her. She was in on getting the Semple land for the natural gas from the beginning.”

  Jaymee snuggled next to Nick. The strawberry scent of her shampoo made him feel ridiculously happy. “So, just so I’ve got this straight, Margaret and Booth had an on and off thing for years. She stuck with Asher because of his money and because Booth didn’t really want to commit. He tells her about Ben causing trouble, that he’s going to talk to him. Wasn’t enough Stanley basically handed Ben to the police by telling them where he’d bought the fakes.”

  “And then,” Cage flipped the steaks, “while Booth was threatening Ben, Margaret stuck the needle loaded with fentanyl into his neck. Booth says he didn’t know she was going to do it, but no one believes him. Doesn’t matter, anyway. Feds have got him on plenty, thanks to the Ashers.”

  Beau and Dylan Asher received immunity for testifying about the fraud, but Dylan would be charged locally with arson. He was still sitting in the Adams County Jail, terrified he’d end up in Delta Correctional with his ex, Gilbert. Beau Asher was charged with the first-degree murder of Emery Lewis. Matt Hastings and Jeb both told the same story: Beau was the ringleader. He’d been drinking that night. His idea to follow Lewis. He’d hit him first with the butt of his pistol and then wrested the axe handle away from him. Beau even knew about the cave—he just didn’t know it was a natural gas gold mine.

  Yesterday, the Mississippi State Medical Examiner had confirmed the bones in the cave were Emery Lewis’s.

  “I feel sorry for Grace. She’s lost two people in all of this,” Dani said.

  “We’ll take care of her.” Cage pulled her close. “I’m not going to let her sit in Oak Lynn and die from her misery.”

  Because the purchase of the Semple land had been accomplished with fraudulent intent and the cause of illegal zoning, the state was working on getting the land back from Norton’s empire. The state planned on mining the gas while still maintaining the integrity of the land but likely had a long legal battle ahead of them.

  Matt Hastings and Jeb Riley were both charged with manslaughter for Lewis’s murder. Hastings was in Hospice and not expected to live more than another week. He claimed he hadn’t told Dani and Jaymee the full truth because he didn’t want to spend his last days in prison. Nick couldn’t blame him for that. Being trapped in a closed space is no way for a man to live his last days.

  Jeb was charged with kidnapping Nick and incarcerated in the Delta Correctional Facility. Dani had promised to go see him.

  “I don’t understand how anyone could hate somebody that much.” Dani poured everyone a glass of wine and started handing them out. Nick probably shouldn’t be drinking since he was still on painkillers, but he figured he’d enjoy himself tonight.

  “You mean those men beating Lewis?” Jaymee asked.

  “Yeah. All over skin color.”

  “It’s more than that,” Cage said. “They were brought up to believe there was a fundamental difference behind that skin color. And even if intellectually they knew it wasn’t true, people don’t like to change. It’s easier to stay the course, keep your head in the sand. Accepting you’re wrong is hard work. Plus, Lewis may have had good intentions, but he went about things the wrong way. With race issues back then, finesse mattered.”

  “I’d like to know what Jeb Riley was thinking.” Jaymee still harbored a healthy hate for the man. “Was he going to let you die and rot there in his funeral home?”

  No one had the answer. Nick didn’t think Jeb knew himself. He’d been backed into a corner and acted out of desperation. That’s a powerful motivator for stupidity.

  “The house is totally gone by the way,” Cage said. “DNR thinks they’ve got the sinkhole managed, but it’s still touch and go.”

  Apparently, the septic system beneath the defunct Riley Funeral Home had been leaking, slowly eating away at the foundation of the house. Eventually the pipes cracked and began to pull the house down. Instead of the settling Jeb believed was going on, the house was literally sinking beneath him. When the sink hole finally took the house, two of the main water pipes also burst, adding to the flood.

  “Don’t burn my steak.” Nick rose to check on Cage’s progress, but Jaymee caught his arm. “Would you just relax? Enjoy the spring night before the mugginess sets in?”

  He grinned and leaned back into the lounger. Carefully, she laid her head on his chest.

  “You’re really moving down here?” Jaymee still sounded unsure of his decision. But he’d made it weeks ago, when the derecho was closing in on him and the car was s
pinning. If he came out of this alive, he was moving to Roselea, finding a job at the paper or somewhere else, and settling down with her. He wouldn’t waste another minute.

  “Yes. I’ve just got to get my apartment taken care of.”

  “And find a job,” Cage said. “I heard there’s an opening as county coroner. You’re as qualified as anyone as this point.”

  “No, thanks. I’ve dealt with enough death.”

  “What are you going to do?” Dani sat across from Nick and Jaymee. Mutt slipped out from beneath Nick’s chair and sheepishly stuck his head beneath her hand. She glared at him and then rubbed his coarse fur. “Spoiled brat.”

  “I really don’t have a clue,” Nick said. “Good thing I’ve got some money saved up. And a sugar mama with a nice house.”

  Jaymee grinned. “That’s my father’s house.” It was the first time she’d referred to Penn Gereau as her father, but if she realized it, she didn’t show it. “He might not like you hanging around.”

  “He can deal with it.”

  “I could use the help around here,” Dani said. “Cage is busy with work, and I’ve got a lot of stuff I want to get done to this place this summer. If you don’t mind manual labor. I might even pay you a real salary.”

  “Aren’t you thoughtful?”

  “That’s what friends are for.”

  Down the hill, toward the trees, a bird started a racket. A hawk emerged from the oaks, followed closely by two angry, smaller birds. “Mockingjays?” Nick guessed.

  Jaymee gave him a squeeze. “You’ll be a country boy yet.”

  Cage snorted. “Keep dreaming.”

  “That’s okay,” Dani said. “Nick and I will be city kids together.”

  Nick stretched out his legs. “Good God. In league with a Yankee.”

  Dani laughed. “Damned right.” She jumped up and joined Cage at the grill.

  “Oh Christ, honey. You’re burning those steaks.”

  Laughter bubbled up in Nick’s chest. Living in Roselea wasn’t going to be bad at all. He never thought trading in the big city life would appeal to him, but as long as Nick had Jaymee and his friends, living the small town life might be just what he needed. Not many people get a second chance to do things right.

  Nick held Jaymee closer, inhaling the sweet jasmine scent of her hair. He was going to seize his chance and never let go.

  THE END

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  Books by Stacy

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  The Lucy Kendall Series

  She’s no killer. She’s just taking out the trash.

  Delta Crossroads

  Delta Detectives

  Standalone

  Acknowledgments

  I’ve got to be honest: the moment I realized I ready to finish this book and end the Delta Crossroads Trilogy, I cried. When I wrote Tin God, it was meant as a stand alone, but I loved the world I’d created so much the ideas kept coming. I wanted to live in Roselea for a while, and I’m so grateful I made that decision. I’ve learned so much about myself as a person and a writer, and I’ve made a lot of new friends and readers. Thank you for all of your amazing support!

  Many thanks to the Natchez Historical Society, the Mississippi Historical Society, Shannon Pritchard (Old Southern Antiques), the Cedar Rapids fire department, and Dr. D.P. Lyle for their help in ensuring this book’s accuracy. Thanks to William Simon for his forensic computer expertise and his patience with my million questions.

  Thank you to Melinda Vanlone at Book Cover Corner for helping me to understand the fine art of book covers and coming up for the outstanding treatment for the Delta Crossroads Trilogy.

  Writing is a solitary endeavor unless someone is around to yank us out of our habitats, and I’m thankful for my circle of supportive friends. To my critique partner Catie Rhodes: your advice and guidance is invaluable. This trilogy absolutely wouldn’t have been finished without you. To my close friend Kristine Kelly: thanks for pushing me when I needed it the most, and for your editing savvy. Thanks to the ladies at misterio presss for their advice and marketing help, and to the great authors at the Indie Voice who so generously spend their time helping others to succeed.

  To my small but mighty street team: you guys rock. Your enthusiasm for my writing is contagious, and it’s a big part of what fuels my day.

  Words can’t express how grateful I am to my family for their support. No one has more faith in my writing than my mother, and I am thankful every day she is here to read it. Thanks to my dad for igniting my love of history, and special thanks to Rob and Grace for the sacrifice of allowing me to write. You’re my rock, and I love you both more than I can say.

  About the Author

  Born in Indiana and raised in Iowa, Stacy Green earned degrees in journalism and sociology from Drake University. After a successful advertising career, Stacy became a proud stay-at-home mom to her miracle child. Now a full-time author, Stacy juggles her time between her demanding characters and supportive family. She loves reading, cooking, and the occasional gardening excursion. Stacy lives in Marion, Iowa with her husband Rob, their daughter Grace, and the family’s three obnoxious but lovable canine children.

  Website: www.stacygreen.net

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  Twitter: @StacyGreen26