Missing the Stars: Chandler County

by Melissa Sinclair

  Two friends, comrades, lost their lives and he lost his mind. Now he was somewhere in the middle of Kentucky on his way to his family farm. Not the intended destination for his vacation; then again, he’d had no destination in mind. Even so, he shouldn’t be lost. Misplaced. That’s the way he would think of it. He had misplaced himself on the drive home, or rather, the road which used to be there was misplaced. This went to show how long it had been since he’d been home. Too long. His mother and father would tell him that very thing if they were still around. His brother told him often enough he needed to come home.

  Yet he wasn’t on his way home because he wanted to be. He was on his way home because his brother, Coop, had called in a state of near panic. After their parents died, Coop, the slightly younger brother, took over full ownership of the horse farm they’d built from the ground up. It was a small horse farm by comparison, and in recent years Coop had been working hard to build it up, to allow for him to do what he really wanted to do. Coop was doing a stand-up job growing the farm—or so he’d thought. The gist of the panicked phone call was that his prize horse, Race the Stars, had gone missing. Coop had explained that, with the Kentucky Derby fast approaching, this could spell disaster for the farm’s reputation. The farm itself was doing well financially, but to lose credibility could bring a bad windfall Coop’s way.

  Race the Stars was not favored to win, but Coop had spent a lot of time and money getting the horse ready. Only he was nowhere to be found—and neither was his jockey. Even if he found his horse, without the jockey there would be no race because at this point it would be too late to find another jockey to ride in the race. The horse and man had bonded, and Cole had been told that Race the Stars was very skittish around anyone other than JD. In true Davenport fashion, Coop was clear and concise with his rundown of the situation, but also in true Davenport fashion, he was leaving something out. Cole knew it, and Coop knew he knew it.

  While Cole suspected there was more going on than what Coop wanted to let on, he couldn’t get Coop to tell him all the details over the phone. His vagueness was duly noted, but it wasn’t that which had peaked Cole’s interest. It was the fact that there was a certain level of panic in his brother’s voice. A sliver of fear settled in and gained traction. Was it possible that Coop hadn’t been fully honest about the solvency of the farm and that it actually was riding on this race? Not just any farm, but their parents’ farm. No. That couldn’t be. Cole was aware of how much money Coop had made, and the farm was solid. There was no way Coop would allow them to lose the farm. It was the only way they could honor the memory of their parents, which was why Cole was going home for the first time since they’d gotten the news that they were dead.

  Which was what had led to Cole being begged to come home and find the missing racehorse as well as the jockey in time for the race, all while trying to keep a lid on the fact that the horse was missing at all. Cole acquiesced. He may not like the idea of going home, but it wasn’t because he didn’t love his brother or his family. It simply hurt too much to be surrounded by the memories, and he had made a life somewhere else. Coop had told him JD’s sibling, Jessie, was in town and stirring up trouble. The sibling was asking people if they’d seen JD anywhere. Cole’s first business at hand was finding the amateur detective and telling said detective to butt out of it for now. The last thing he needed was someone else asking questions when he had been called in to do the job. It would just slow him down.

  Cole had discovered after his phone call with Coop that he was closer than he had first realized to the family homestead; he suspected his subconscious had been steering him home. Nothing could heal him as fast as seeing his brother, even if the house held too many memories for him. Coop was a salve to any wound he had. Growing up, they had been inseparable. People often confused them for twins because they were born eleven months apart in the same calendar year and they looked so similar in height and stature. But the physical similarities and close birthdays were where the similarities ended. Coop was refined, charismatic, and made friends easily. Cole was a little rough around the edges—reserved—and had a core network of those he trusted, most of which were part of his operation and a handful of which were friends he made along the way. Coop was clean shaven and a ladies’ man. Cole always had scruff and was a ladies’ man. While the men were different, took different paths and didn’t see each other enough, they were incredibly close and would do anything for each other.

  An hour later, he was finally on a road he recognized. If he wasn’t so stubborn, he would have stopped for a map, but his navigation system had failed him, and there were few options of places to stop for a map. At least that’s what he kept telling his stubborn self. In reality, he just hated admitting defeat, and a small portion of him wasn’t ready to be around people. Cole had been enjoying his self-imposed exile. After the events of the last months, he needed to have this time alone. A long-suffering sigh escaped him as he saw the signs for Bourbonville.

  The farm was somewhere between Bourbonville and Chandlerville, small in comparison to the other sprawling farms in the area, but it was something his father and mother had sweat over and made a home. Not able to go there yet, he decided to swing through Bourbonville, have lunch, and see if he could find the meddling sibling. Wandering around his hometown sounded minutely better than going home. He would face that a little later, but not yet. A part of him was excited to see what his brother had done with the farm. He'd only heard about all the changes over the phone, and while he had seen numerous pictures, he had yet to see it in person, since he was constantly looking for excuses to not go see it for himself. It wasn’t hard to find a reason not to go home; all he had to do was take the next case that came his way.

  As soon as he pulled into Bourbonville, the recollections of a time long forgotten, or at least one he tried to forget, came crashing back. He remembered taking his first girlfriend on a date to the local diner, and all the subsequent girlfriends after…before he moved out of town chasing the adventure he had longed for. The adventure his parents supported, even if they tried vainly to hide their nervousness over his leaving. It was amazing how far he had come in the fourteen years since he had squealed his tires as he drove his car entirely too fast toward the state border. It had only taken two years to straighten himself out before he started his company Port Investigations at the age of twenty-one.

  No one takes a private investigator seriously when they’re twenty-one, but he proved himself more often than not, and his business grew—slowly at first—until one day it had become apparent he needed to hire some help. Now he had a new recruit, Harrison Black, whom he suspected was going to go far and would help take the business to the next level. Cole had been considering expanding and taking on a partner. In a short amount of time, he had come to realize Harrison was the man he’d been looking for. He knew it was time to bring him on if he was ready; he could only keep up this pace for so long. In fact, before he left, he’d put Black in charge and asked him if he would be interested in a full partnership. His main worry was that his being overextended was why he had lost two men in the last year. Harrison had seemed surprised by the suggestion and had responded with a flat “no.”

  Cole knew the man would come around and he’d have to be ready for the offer; he had been through his own hell recently. While he hadn’t known the man for long, Ethan had vouched for his character, and Cole had been doing a favor for his friend when he sought out Harrison and offered him the job. Little did he know by doing so, Harrison would find a way to heal by working for his company. He was as solid as they came, and Cole suspected that the giant of a man could come back to his former self a bit faster if given something to work for.

  Parking his car, Cole leaned his head back and rested it on the seat a moment before he got out. The images of his two men, lying in puddles of blood still haunted him and were major factors in his sleepless nights. After Tony died while they were extracting the Plummers from the safe house, he had thrown hims
elf into his work headfirst—burning the midnight oil. Then Danny died. Telling their parents, their girlfriends, was too much and Cole lost his edge. He could no longer trust himself to run an op or to do anything effectively. Much like he’s been lost on his way to Bourbonville, his soul was adrift. The puddles of blood and the tears from their families haunted him. Even though they absolved him of any wrongdoing, and there was nothing a court of law could have found to charge him with, the guilt still made him feel raw. Those men were brothers to him, handpicked and hand trained to work for Port Investigations. Tony had been his first hire and willing to move with him to Wisconsin to make their home base. Danny had been with him only a couple of years, but it didn’t lessen the impact of his death.

  “Get out of the car, you pussy,” he mumbled under his breath.

  Pushing the door open, he braced himself for the heat of the day as he exited the car. Man, what he would give to be back in Wisconsin in the cooler climate. He didn’t miss the heat, that was for sure. Not to mention, crazy as it might sound, he liked the snow. Running in the morning, seeing his breath in the air—it made him feel alive. Healed him from the inside out. The snow was gone for now. Stretching, he looked up and down Main Street, admiring the seemingly unchanged town. Had it really been nearly fourteen years since he’d stepped foot in this very town? If it hadn’t been for the sound of panic in Coop’s voice, he would have thought that he was being set up by him to come home. Even Coop wasn’t that good of an actor, was he?

  As he walked down the street, he breathed deeply; the air seemed sweeter than he remembered. More fragrant. Which probably had to do with all the blasted flowers planted everywhere. Of course, down deep Cole liked the new touches to the quaint town. There wasn’t much he hadn’t liked about Bourbonville or Chandlerville, other than the fact that they were entirely too claustrophobic for him after their parents died. Who knew, maybe if they hadn’t died for simply being in front of the wrong house he would have never left? Something told him he still would have; raising horses was never his thing. He loved horses, he just didn’t want to have a career that revolved around horses, there was so much more to his life for him.

  That was a lie, though. There wasn’t much more to his life these days other than one case after another while he continued to try to find his parents’ killers. After fourteen years, it was becoming more apparent than ever that it wasn’t going to happen. It was entirely possible the fear he would never be able to bring their killers to justice was the driving force in what he considered the downward trajectory of his life. Down deep Cole knew he couldn’t do anything different to save Tony or Danny, but it didn’t stop the guilt, and after losing them coupled with the fact that he couldn’t even solve his own parents’ murders, it was crippling his confidence. Which was not something Cole was entirely used to happening. As he walked, he watched an auburn-haired woman with sun-kissed skin come storming out of the deli. He knew a woman on a mission and the woman with the emerald eyes stomping her way toward him was hell-bent on finding some kind of answers. The only question in Cole’s mind was why the hell was she stomping toward him like he was part of the problem?

  “Listen, I’m tired of the runaround, Mr. Davenport. You need to tell me where JD is or at least you need to tell me when you last saw him. I am not into ambiguous responses, so enough with the ‘he’s around’ BS you’ve been trying to sell me because I’m not buying it.”

  To add emphasis to the B and S, the fiery vixen in front of him jabbed her finger into his chest—twice. Once for each letter. Cole didn’t know if he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss the shit out of her or if he wanted to take a step back and run for the hills. Warning bells were sounding all around him that this woman could be his downfall. It wasn’t instant love, but it sure as hell was instant lust. It wasn’t the first time his little soldier took over, but normally he was able to talk him down from the ledge. This time it seemed like the line of communication between big brain and little brain had completely disconnected, and while he acknowledged that he should be pissed off that some woman he didn’t know from Adam came marching up to him accusing him of what he didn’t know, he couldn’t find the energy to be angry.

  “Listen, Ms…?”

  “Carpenter. Jessie Carpenter.”

  Shit! Jessie wasn’t JD’s brother. In fact, Jessie was very much not a dude. A smile spread across his face as he replayed the phone conversation with Coop. Well played, brother, well played. Now that Cole thought through it all, Coop had chosen specific words when describing the woman standing in front of him. JD’s sibling was in town stirring up trouble. Sibling, not sister. Cole had just assumed that Jessie was a man because the name was Jessie and not Jessica. Although, that was dumb of him. He knew that now.

  “Well, then, I suppose I should introduce myself.” His mouth twitched again as he stuck his hand out to shake hers. “Cole Davenport. Brother of Coop Davenport, who conveniently neglected to tell me the sibling causing trouble was, in fact, a sister and not a brother.”

  “Causing trouble? The hell you say—I’m causing trouble? I’m worried about my brother, and you should be worried about your brother because when I get my hands on him…I’m gonna…”

  Cole couldn’t help the full belly laugh that escaped him. The woman was a sight to behold and a force to be reckoned with.

  “You’ll do what, exactly?” He couldn’t stop himself from poking the hornet’s nest.

  “I’ll kick his ass, that’s what!” She crossed her arms over her chest and blew the hair that kept falling into her eyes out of them.

  “Well, I would absolutely love to see that. As a matter of fact, I would like front row seats, because there is a huge part of me that wants to kick his ass as well.”

  Cole didn’t have time to deal with the woman in front of him, even if she was gorgeous as hell, and while he was happy for the distraction, it was just that…a distraction. Yet, wasn’t it precisely what he needed to get him through the fact that he was home, standing on the very soil he was raised on? A home where so little had changed while at the same time so much had. None of which had such a complete transformation as he did all those years ago. He had gone from a boy on the cusp of manhood to a young man filled with anger. An anger that still fought to consume him and the thought he was home was terrifying because he had vowed that he would never step foot in his home until he found out who had murdered his parents. He was about to break that fourteen-year promise he’d made them.

  3

  Jessie Carpenter was mad. In fact, she was seeing red, which was better than the fear that was threatening to devour her. Where the hell was JD? Why the hell wasn’t he answering her phone calls, and what the hell was he up to? Because Jessie knew his absence wasn’t a good thing. JD had always behaved spontaneously—too spontaneously for Jessie’s liking. She had been stewing in her fear and anger all day while she tried to track him down and get Coop-freaking-Davenport to talk to her.

  While she felt JD was too spontaneous, he felt Jessie was too rigid and scheduled for his liking. It worked for her and her line of work. She wondered if he would be impressed that she had dropped everything and come here to find him, even though it was clearly not on her planner to do so. Of course, if he only knew what she’d been through and how she’d been forced to throw schedules out the door, he would understand. It wasn’t like she wouldn’t come looking for him; he was her brother. Even if he was prone to irritating her with his risk-taking. She was sure that at some point in his life he would become more responsible and stop waiting for her to clean up all his messes. At some point he would realize that she only worried because life was so fragile. Which was their main fight. He thought because life was fragile they should take the bull by the horns and really live. She felt he should be wrapped in bubble wrap—his words, not hers—and be more cautious. And now he was Coop Davenport’s jockey. When no one else would give him a chance, Coop did. For that, Jessie was grateful, even though she wanted to wring his neck becau
se he was not being cooperative regarding the location of her missing brother.

  Which brought her back to her stewing in her anger because it was the only thing that was stopping the fear from crippling her. Without a second’s hesitation, she had driven to Bourbonville and began asking anyone willing to answer her questions if they had seen JD. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if after all these years of protecting him she was ultimately the cause of his disappearance.

  For hours she walked from store to store, asking anyone and everyone about JD. Everyone was friendly, but no one was able to help her. While they all knew JD, no one was able to tell her anything useful. She wanted to scream every single time she finished talking to another person and finding another dead end, and if she heard one more person say they hadn’t seen him in quite some time…let’s just say it would get ugly—and fast. What did that even mean? Was “quite some time” an hour, a day, a week, or a month?

  She had just left the deli when she saw a tall, dark, and brooding man walking down the street. At first glance, she thought it was the man she had seen in pictures. Coop Davenport. It wasn’t until she had been jabbing her finger into his chest that she realized how wrong she’d been, but instead of letting on she had figured it out ahead of the introductions, she rolled with it. So much for not being spontaneous, huh, JD? Anyway, Jessie had always been a good actress, so she knew she had pulled off her surprise well. It wasn’t that hard since she hadn’t expected to run into the brooding man, but now that she had, she was damn sure going to make him help her find her brother. After all, her research had told her he was a PI. A damn good one.

  “Listen, while this has been fun and all, I really don’t have time for the pleasantries.” Smooth, Jessie, great way to get him on your side. “I mean, I’m sorry, I just need to find my brother. We have an agreement that we talk to each other every other day. He missed the check-in.” The eyebrows of the ruggedly handsome man shot to the sky.