Reed Ferguson Mystery Box Set 5

by Renee Pawlish

  My eyes darted between them all. “You are one sick bunch.”

  Marcia sniffled, then stared at her brother. “Why are you trying to hurt me, Toby?” Her voice cracked.

  “Don’t talk to her,” Madisen said.

  Toby shook his head. “You know what? I’m tired of you ordering me around. You’ve gone too far this time.” He looked at Marcia. “Ben asked me to get involved in the drug smuggling, and I did.”

  “Toby, why?” Marcia said.

  “The money was a way to not have to be under Father’s thumb. I didn’t want to work at the plant, not for him! And everything was going fine until Jay decided he wanted more money. He got arrogant and careless, and we had to do something about it. But I didn’t kill him.”

  She turned to Madisen. “You did?”

  “Yes, our brother-in-law killed Jay,” Toby said.

  “You knew about it, so that makes you at least an accessory to murder. Try not to sound so high-and-mighty,” Madisen muttered to him.

  Toby shook his head. “I didn’t kill Jay, and I didn’t kill Paula, either. You did, and you even botched getting rid of her body.”

  “Shut your trap,” Madisen growled.

  “Why kill Jay’s wife?” I asked.

  “She knew what was going on,” Toby said. “She came back to Sagebrush after Jay disappeared, and was asking questions.” He jerked his head at Madisen. “Ben here was only a deputy and he threatened her, but I guess he wasn’t scary enough – he couldn’t keep her quiet. She said she’d go to the sheriff, so Ben decided she’d have to go, too. Eddie hadn’t been happy about Jay’s death, and he knew the plan to eliminate Paula, and he wanted out. That’s why he left with you,” he pointed to Marcia, “when he did. But we couldn’t let him escape.”

  “Eddie was smuggling drugs with you two?” Marcia asked.

  Madisen snorted. “Eddie got out of college and drifted, and had been dealing drugs. He and Jay knew some people in Denver, and they helped us with the whole thing. But we hadn’t counted on the idiot dating you and getting you pregnant.”

  Marcia blushed and her hand shook as she aimed at Madisen. “What’d you do to Eddie in that hotel room?” Her eyes flashed dangerously.

  “Marcia, put the gun down,” Madisen said in a low voice.

  Marcia aimed over his shoulder and pulled the trigger. The explosion rocketed throughout the barn. The horses neighed and bucked in their stalls. Madisen ducked and swore.

  “Start talking,” Marcia said, “or the next bullet will go in your chest.”

  “All right,” Madisen said, his voice trembling but angry. “When we got to your hotel room, you were sleeping. Eddie and I argued, you woke up and tried to stop us, and you fell and hit your head.”

  “How’d you know we were there?” she asked.

  Madisen laughed. “You called Jennifer, remember? You told her you were scared, but not to tell anyone.” He shrugged. “She told me.”

  Marcia got a faraway look in her eyes. “I’d forgotten I’d called her.”

  Madisen went on. “Anyway, we talked with Eddie. He said he wouldn’t tell anyone what we’d done.” He laughed bitterly. “You were only knocked out for a minute, and when you came around, Eddie started telling you everything. I told him to shut up, but he just kept talking. I went after him, and Toby and I beat him up. We were going to dispose of him, but by then your baby was making too much noise, and you were hysterical, so Toby took you and the baby outside. I tied Eddie up and went to look for you all. Toby had you in the car, and we had to drive you around so no one would hear you yelling and wailing. By the time we got you calmed down and returned to the room, Eddie had escaped and run off.”

  “Great job,” Toby muttered.

  “Shut up!” Madisen snarled. He stared at Marcia. “We brought you back to Sagebrush, and, well, you know the rest.”

  “You were going to kill Eddie?” Marcia could barely speak.

  “He was going to turn us in,” Madisen said.

  Marcia gazed at Toby. Anguished tears ran down her face. “You were there, Toby? And not Father?” Toby stared at the floor. “I thought you cared about me.”

  His head snapped up. “I did!” he said defiantly. “I hated how Father was treating you. It was awful! After we came back here, Ben was going to kill you, but I begged him not to. I said you didn’t remember anything, so you weren’t a threat. That’s why he left you alone. Because of me. And I tried to tell him that, after Eddie called the other day, but he didn’t believe me and still wanted you dead.”

  “Along with Eddie,” Madisen said.

  Marcia stared at him. “Eddie’s dead?”

  Madisen pointed at Toby. “He shot him.”

  “Toby?” Marcia’s lower lip quivered. “You killed Eddie?”

  “I don’t know if he’s dead.” Toby jerked his head at me. “He came into the lot, and I left.”

  Marcia’s gaze swung to me.

  “He’s dead,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  “He was going to turn us all in,” Toby said in a whine. “Marcia, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

  Her lip quivered. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “I’m sorry,” Toby repeated. Then he shook a finger at Madisen. “This ends here and now.”

  “What’re you talking about?” Madisen said.

  “You’re not going to kill anyone else,” Toby replied.

  Madisen lowered his hands. “Try and stop me.”

  “Don’t anyone move,” I said.

  But even as I spoke, Madisen lunged for Marcia. She screamed and a shot rang out, then another. Madisen jerked around, then crumpled to the ground and lay still. Red spots formed on his brown shirt. Someone shouted. The horses neighed and crashed around in their stalls.

  “Marcia, no!” Toby yelled.

  Then it was suddenly quiet. The smell of dust and a faint acrid bite of gunpowder lingered in the air. Marcia aimed the Beretta at Toby.

  “You ruined my life,” she whispered.

  Toby held his hands up. “Marcia, don’t.”

  I pointed the Glock at her. “Marcia, drop the gun.” Her hand shook. “You don’t want to kill him,” I said softly. “Think about your daughter. You don’t want her visiting you in prison.”

  She stood for a long moment, staring at Toby, then the gun suddenly dropped to her side and she fell back against the wall, sobbing.

  “I’m so sorry,” Toby said, but I don’t think she heard him.

  He took a step forward, and I swung the Glock toward him. “Stay right there.” He stopped.

  I moved over to Madisen’s body and checked his pulse. “He’s dead.”

  “He got what he deserved,” Toby said.

  I nodded as I stood back up. “And you’re going to, too.”

  He gazed at Marcia, who had sunk to the floor, still crying. Then he nodded. His will to fight had vanished.

  With my Glock still aimed at him, I stepped over to Marcia and took the Beretta from her. No one said a word as I pulled out my phone and dialed 911. I spoke to an operator for a few minutes, and then called Willie. She was just wrapping up with the deputy. I briefly told her what had happened, asked her to have him take her back to the Sagebrush Inn, and to not stay awake for me. Then I waited.

  Chapter Thirty

  It took a while before the same deputy who’d been at Holder Farm Equipment showed up. He rushed into the barn with a gun raised and saw all of us. Then his gaze fell to Madisen and his jaw dropped.

  “Is that … the sheriff?” he said slowly.

  I nodded and explained the situation. The deputy seemed stunned at first, but quickly gathered himself and moved into action. He called for backup, verified Madisen was dead, then arrested Toby Holder. At that point, Jennifer Madisen ran into the barn.

  “I saw the lights go by. What’s going on?” She stopped short, gazed at all of us, then ran to her husband.

  “Oh, Ben,” she said, choking back tears. She touched his arm. “Wha
t did you do?”

  The deputy went over and spoke to her, and asked her to move away. Jennifer nodded and pushed herself to her feet. Then she noticed her sister.

  “Marcia,” she said in a small voice.

  Marcia wiped her eyes and gazed at Jennifer. “Hi, Sis.”

  Jennifer dropped down beside Marcia and hugged her. “Oh, it’s been so long.”

  The two held each other and spoke in quiet tones as Toby stared at them.

  “All these years, I wondered if Ben was doing something illegal,” Jennifer muttered.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” Marcia whispered.

  Jennifer looked around the barn. “We had the ranch and everything else. What would happen if we lost all this? How would I start over? What would I do?” She visibly shook. “That’s probably hard for you to understand.”

  Marcia glanced at me. “Not as much as you might think.”

  The deputy watched their exchange for a moment, seeming unsure what to do. Then an ambulance arrived, along with an older deputy whose nameplate read “Sparks.”

  He spoke to the younger deputy for a minute, giving orders, and then he jabbed a finger at me. “You. Come with me.”

  I followed Sparks outside.

  He put his hands on his hips and stared at me. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

  I launched into a long explanation of what had occurred in the barn, and he peppered me with questions while other county officials arrived and hurried in and out of the barn. While we were talking, the young deputy escorted Toby Holder to a cruiser. Toby glanced at me with a stony expression as he was helped into the backseat. Then the deputy slid into the front seat and drove off.

  I finally concluded my story, and had to sit on the porch while Sparks went back into the barn. When he came out, he spoke to me for a while longer, got my contact information, and allowed me to leave. He wouldn’t let me speak to Marcia or Jennifer.

  It was well past midnight when I finally headed back to town. On the way, I called Gina Smith. Her voice was groggy when she answered the phone.

  “Reed, what’s wrong?”

  I stared out the windshield, then finally said, “I’ve got some bad news. There isn’t an easy way to say this.”

  “Is it Marcia?”

  “No, your dad. He’s dead.”

  “What?” Her voice was shrill.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said lamely. Then I told her the long and complicated story of everything that I’d discovered.

  It took her a long time to speak after I finished. “I don’t know what to say,” she said. “I … need to call the sheriff’s department and talk to them. I’ll call you later.”

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated.

  “Thank you.”

  The call disconnected. I cranked the music, wishing it could drown out the sadness I felt for Gina. A little while later, I arrived at the Sagebrush Inn. I quietly let myself into my room and turned on the bathroom light. Willie – sans her black teddy – was asleep with the covers half pulled over her. I undressed and crawled in beside her.

  “Hey,” she said sleepily as I pulled her close. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, go back to sleep. We can talk more in the morning.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” I said.

  We were soon asleep.

  “Hey, Reed, I have a good idea,” Deuce said as he sauntered up to our table.

  It was a few weeks later, and Cal, Willie, and the Goofballs were with me at B 52s for a night of burgers and pool, my small way of thanking them all for their help. Ace had just beat Deuce at pool, a waiter had delivered burgers for everyone, and now we were all gathered around a table.

  “What’s that?” I asked Deuce.

  “How about Ace and I take some gun safety courses?”

  Willie was sitting next to me, and she put her hand to her face, hiding a smile.

  I took a sip of my beer, and then said, “Why do you want to do that?”

  Ace chimed in. “We thought if we were trained officially with guns, maybe in your next case, you’d let us carry.”

  “A gun safety class would be a good idea,” I said.

  Deuce beamed.

  “You’re not seriously going to let them carry guns when they help you?” Willie murmured at me.

  “Not anytime soon,” I whispered. “But it can’t hurt for them to take the class.”

  She nodded. “That’s true.”

  We dove into our meals, and then Cal asked, “Did you ever find out what John Smith’s real name was?”

  I grinned at him. “I thought you would’ve figured that out by now.”

  “With that generic name?” He held up his hands. “I tried.”

  “John Smith’s real name was Eddie Lendale,” I said. “After graduating with a degree in accounting, he wandered the country, getting arrested in Virginia, Miami, and then in Denver. Toby Holder said Lendale had drug connections in Miami, and he came to Denver and smuggled drugs from Mexico.”

  “His crime connections probably helped him get a new ID when he left Sagebrush,” Cal said.

  I nodded. “Right. Anyway, Lendale ended up in Sagebrush, where he connected with Toby Holder, and they started smuggling drugs up from Mexico. But then Lendale fell in love with Marcia, and … well, you know the rest.”

  “What’s happening with Marcia and Gina?” Cal asked.

  “Marcia’s back in Denver, and she and Gina are working on their relationship,” I said. “Gina was initially stunned when she learned about her father’s death, but she suspected him of some kind of wrongdoing, so I don’t think she was completely surprised.”

  “It was still tough to lose her father,” Willie interjected. “She took some time off for the funeral, but is back at work. She’s been having a tough time, and so has her son, Ethan.”

  “What about the mayor?” Ace asked. “Was he involved in the drug smuggling?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. Mayor Holder and Pastor Sheehan didn’t know what was going on. Toby and Sheriff Madisen were very careful with their operation, and when anything suspicious was reported – which wasn’t often – Madisen covered it.”

  “Did Jennifer suspect anything?” Willie asked.

  “Marcia said she did, but Jennifer chose to look the other way. She had no idea that they’d murdered anyone, though.”

  Cal took a drink of his beer, and then said, “And Toby Holder’s facing trial?”

  “He’s admitted what he’s done, so I don’t think there’ll be a trial. He’s been talking a lot, hoping it’ll help him get a lighter sentence.”

  “How’d you find all this out?” Deuce asked.

  “I’ve talked to Marcia,” I said.

  Ace had wolfed down his burger, and he stood up. “I beat Deuce, so how about a game with me, Cal?”

  Cal glanced up. “Uh, I guess so.”

  Willie winked at him. “It’ll be fun.”

  “Uh-huh.” Cal walked over to the pool table.

  “Let’s see how the genius does,” I said with a laugh. I didn’t have high hopes that Cal would win.

  “Want to play a game?” Willie asked me.

  “Sure, but you’ll lose.”

  She grinned at me. “We’ll see about that. Oh, by the way, your mother called me today. We had a nice chat.”

  I stared at her. “What’re you up to?”

  “Boy, she really wants grandkids.”

  “Yeah?”

  She patted my cheek. “Don’t worry, I told her we’re not ready yet.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. I want kids, just not yet. I studied the amused look on her face. “But?”

  “What if we got a cat?”

  I laughed. “My mother would be thrilled.”

  Turn the page to keep reading Nightmare Sally, Reed Ferguson mystery book 15!

  Nightmare Sally

  The Reed Ferguson Mystery Series, Book 15

  Chapter One

  She looked ne
rvous.

  That was my first impression as I watched her for a moment from the entryway of the Cherry Hills Country Club restaurant.

  “May I help you, sir?” a hostess in dark slacks and a white blouse asked me.

  “I’m meeting someone,” I said, then gestured at the woman, who was sitting near a window across the room.

  “Ah, yes. Are you Reed Ferguson?”

  I nodded.

  “Mrs. Evans is expecting you.”

  She escorted me to Mrs. Evans’s table, then said to her, “Your guest has arrived.”

  Mrs. Evans thanked the hostess, then indicated I should sit down.

  I introduced myself and she smiled.

  “Call me Brenda.”

  She discreetly sized me up, probably wondering how could this brown-haired guy with boring hazel eyes be a private investigator.

  If my guess was correct, Brenda Evans was in her fifties. That was maybe ten years or so younger than my mother, but you wouldn’t have known it by looking at her. Her cream-colored pantsuit hung loosely on her thin frame, her cheeks were hollow, and her short blond hair had a strange quality I couldn’t put my finger on.

  “I’ve met you before, but it was a long time ago,” she said.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t remember.”

  “When your parents lived in Denver, we golfed here at the club with them.”

  I nodded, letting her ease into the conversation. A waiter came over and asked if I wanted something to drink. Brenda was sipping coffee, but that wasn’t generally my style, and I asked for a Coke. He nodded and scurried away. It was after one on a beautiful September day, and the restaurant was quiet, only a few other diners in the room. The murmur of their conversations drifted into the background as Brenda and I talked.

  “I talked to your mother the other day on the phone and was telling her about my … situation,” she said, “and she suggested I contact you.”

  I leaned in a bit. “I’m happy to help if I can.”

  “Your mother speaks very highly of you. She says you’re quite the detective.”