Come Rain or Shine: Rose Gardner Investigations #5 (Rose Gardner Investigatons)

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Come Rain or Shine: Rose Gardner Investigations #5 (Rose Gardner Investigatons) Page 16

by Denise Grover Swank


  I shook my head, my eyes wide. “You don’t have to do this, Brox. I’ll come with you willingly.” It was a lie, but I was sure I sounded convincing.

  A sad expression shadowed his face. “Even without his order, I’d still do this. I think you’ll run first chance you get.”

  He was right, and I demonstrated how right he was by scraping my heel down the inside of his leg and stomping hard on his foot. He leapt back a step and I bolted toward the road, screaming, “Help!”

  The sirens were louder now, and I hoped someone would hear me.

  Brox caught up to me in five seconds, wrapping his arm around my stomach and lifting me off the ground. His free hand covered my mouth to muffle my screams.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Rose. But I have to take you.”

  I viciously kicked his legs and bit his hand. He cursed loudly but didn’t flinch away as I had hoped. “If you don’t settle down, I’ll be forced to chloroform you,” he said as he walked back to his truck. “You’ll wake up with a nasty headache.”

  I went stock-still. Would chloroform hurt my baby? I couldn’t take the risk.

  “That’s a good girl,” Brox said as he pressed my chest against the truck, his hand still covering my mouth. His hand only lifted so he could secure a length of duct tape over my mouth—and then he spun me around to face him.

  I stared up at his face and he frowned as he started to tape my hands together in front of me.

  “Don’t look at me like that, Rose. We just have to be careful.”

  He ripped the tape with his bare hands, then hefted me into the back seat and grabbed my legs.

  I started to panic, flooded with memories of the Sugar Branch police officer who’d nearly raped me in his car. Then I was hyperventilating, and the tape over my mouth made it so much worse.

  Brox tried to ignore me as he wrapped tape around my ankles, but he kept sneaking glances at my face. When he finished, he gave me a worried look. “Rose, take deep breaths.”

  What was I doing? Panicking wasn’t going to solve anything. I needed to get myself together. The Sugar Branch police had been evil; Brox was basically a good man in his core. The way he’d carried me through the trees proved it. I needed to ride this out and keep my wits about me.

  When he finished with the tape, he pushed me to the floor of the back seat and leaned in. “I need you to stay down. If you try to get up, I’ll have to chloroform ya.” He held my gaze. “Do you understand?”

  I nodded.

  Regret filled his eyes. “I don’t wanna do it, Miss Rose, but if you break the rules, I’ll be forced to.”

  The sirens were even louder now, which seemed to spur Brox into action. He pushed the driver’s seat back into place, then climbed in. I could feel the truck start to move. I tried to pay attention to the various turns and the conditions of the roads, but I began to suspect Brox was driving in circles like James often did when he was going to his house south of town.

  James. I tried to keep my mind occupied with thoughts of escape, but memories of our encounter kept filtering in. His eyes had looked so cold when he’d told me to go to Jed to take care of it. I’d known better than to think he’d be happy, but I’d expected some type of support from him. Some softness. At least after he got over his initial shock. Would he come to his senses and check on me? What would I do if he did?

  I didn’t have time to think about it any longer, because the truck had pulled off the smooth road onto bumpy terrain and was slowing down. It was hard to see much out the windows since it was nighttime, but it didn’t look like he was taking me to their property. So where were we going?

  We came to a stop, and Brox remained silent as he opened the door and climbed out. Moments later, he tipped the front seat forward and grabbed my ankles.

  “Just answer his questions and you’ll be okay,” he said softly, gently pulling me forward.

  After he carefully pried the tape off my mouth, refusing to look me in the eyes, he pulled out a pocketknife and cut through the tape around my ankles. He set me on my feet, then grabbed my upper arm—my hands still bound together—and led me to a small, well-kept, one-story house.

  The property was surrounded by trees, and a quick glance behind me revealed even more trees with a narrow road winding through them. The windows in the house glowed with a warm yellow, giving it an inviting look, but all I felt was dread. The last time I’d seen Gerard Collard, Brox’s father and leader of their band of lost boys, I’d pointed a gun at him. I was pretty sure he was going to hold that against me.

  The front door opened and one of Brox’s brothers stood in the opening—Carey, if I remembered correctly from our previous encounter. He’d been none too fond of me before I’d held a gun on his father. Heaven only knew how he’d treat me now.

  Brox steered me through the opening, but Carey barely moved out of the way to let me pass. He looked me up and down as though I was a plate of fried chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy—one that had been left on the counter to congeal all day, but his hunger was such that he’d still devour it in one sitting.

  Brox sent him a dark glare, and Carey took a step back as his brother shut the door.

  Gerard sat at a small table, only he didn’t ask me to sit like he had last time. He narrowed his gaze on Brox, none too pleased. “There was trouble.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  Brox gave a slight nod. “I followed her from the pool hall to the pharmacy. I planned to get her when she came out, but two armed men went in soon after she did. I considered going in to get her, but she came out the back door. The men approached her from either side, and I took them out.”

  Gerard’s thin lips pursed together. “I suppose the authorities could blame their deaths on Malcolm’s overexuberance to protect her.”

  Brox shot me a quick glance, then turned back to his father. “They were Malcolm’s men.”

  CHAPTER 16

  T he blood rushed from my head and I gaped up at Brox.

  “Malcolm’s men were going to kill her?” Gerard asked, his surprise evident in his voice.

  “Yeah, I remember one of them from our last deal,” Brox said. “They were definitely his guys.”

  I turned back to face Gerard. He had his gaze on my face, studying me. “Based on your color, you didn’t realize Malcolm had turned on you, not that I blame him after you were so quick to move the chief deputy sheriff into your bed,” he said without a hint of gloating. “Brox, help her to a seat.”

  So he knew about Joe, not that I was surprised. He’d clearly been keeping tabs on me, but I didn’t have time to process that. My mind was still caught on what Brox had said. James’s men had been prepared to kill me. Had he known? No. He would never condone my murder.

  They hadn’t known it was me. They’d only known there was a witness.

  Still, did that mean James condoned his men killing the innocent?

  Brox pulled out a chair and tried to help me sit, but I managed it on my own. It irked me that I’d obeyed Gerard, but I figured I’d lose all respect if I passed out.

  I leveled my gaze on Gerard. “Skeeter Malcolm wouldn’t betray me, and I didn’t recognize either of those men. They were there for prescriptions Dr. Arnold had written for the pharmacist to fill.” I paused a beat, thankful my equilibrium was better and my confidence was returning. “They had to be working for Denny Carmichael.”

  A hint of a smile appeared on Gerard’s face as he steepled his fingers under his chin. “What makes you think so?”

  He acted like a man who knew something I didn’t, but I tried to hide my fading confidence. “Everyone knows Carmichael is the drug lord of Fenton County. Likely all of southern Arkansas. His cook is very good and he’s protective of him.”

  Gerard’s brow lifted as amusement filled his eyes. “True. So why would Carmichael be interested in prescription drugs?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, then quickly closed it. Gerard wasn’t making assumptions. He had solid intel.

&
nbsp; “You’re tellin’ me that Skeeter Malcolm is starting to branch out to prescription drugs?” I asked, sounding incredulous. James had told me he had nothing to do with drugs. The only reason he didn’t stop Carmichael was because he believed people who were miserable would find a way to get drugs one way or another. Still, James was in the process of working with a manufacturer to bring a canning industry into town to give people well-paid jobs, reasoning people who weren’t scraping by would be happier and much less likely to resort to drugs.

  “Startin’ to?” Gerard laughed. “This ain’t recent, Lady. It’s been goin’ on for at least three years.”

  I slowly shook my head. “I don’t believe you.”

  He shrugged. “Believe me or don’t, but here’s what I know: Carmichael has a guy putting out first-class, high-quality meth. He’s selling to big organizations in bigger cities and bringing in top dollar. Why would he waste his time nickel-and-diming with prescription drugs?”

  My heart stuttered. I refused to believe that James was behind the prescription drug ring. “If Denny Carmichael is too successful to mess with prescription drugs, why is he living in squalor?”

  Gerard laughed. “You been to his place, have ya?” His eyes narrowed slightly. “You’ve been to our place. We live in a humble abode, but that’s not indicative of how much money we have.” He shook his head slightly. “Not all men want to live in fancy houses, Lady. Your Malcolm doesn’t.”

  Which meant he didn’t know about James’s secret house. If James had a secret house, I supposed Carmichael could have one too. But that was beside the point. What mattered was that Gerard’s story had a ring of truth to it.

  I took a deep breath, needing to get control of this situation. Holding out my still-bound hands, I said, “Cut me loose. I take it we’re here for some type of discussion, and I refuse to participate if I’m bound like a prisoner.”

  Gerard grinned. “How do you know we don’t plan to kill you?”

  I pulled on my Lady persona like a pair of fireman’s coveralls, my shoulders flexing back and my chin lifting. “If you wanted me dead, Brox would have let Malcolm’s men take me out in the parking lot. Seems like a lot less trouble.”

  “Unless we wanted something from you first,” he said with a glint in his eye.

  “I can’t think of a single thing you’d want from me. If you were hopin’ to ransom me to Malcolm, the confrontation in the parking lot proves I mean nothing to him anymore.” My heart twisted as I said the words, refusing to believe they were true. James might be upset with me, but he’d never condone my murder. In fact, I couldn’t believe he’d condone the cold-blooded murder of any innocent. If those had been his men, they must have gone rogue. It had happened before, but it was alarming it was happening again. Whatever the case, I would deal with that later. Right now I had to placate Gerard. “Which means we’re here for a chat, and the more hospitable you are, the more open I’ll be.”

  Carey stood to the left, by the kitchen sink, and the snarl he released didn’t sound very accommodating.

  “The last time we offered our hospitality, you snubbed us and pulled a gun on me,” Gerard said in a low growl.

  “That’s because I felt threatened. Up until that time, we were engaged in an active discussion.”

  “Not entirely true,” Gerard said. “I wanted information you refused to give me.”

  “You wanted to know what Mason Deveraux was up to, and I told you the truth. I didn’t know. He and I were no longer speaking, and that remains the case, not that it’s any of your business.”

  “Why are you livin’ with Joe Simmons?”

  “That’s not any of your business either.”

  “It’s my business if they’re both out to get me.”

  “That’s between you and them. I haven’t spoken to Mason in months, and Joe keeps his sheriff business to himself, just like I keep my business to myself. Joe has no idea what I’m doin’ or who I’m talkin’ to. I haven’t betrayed a single person to him, nor do I plan to.” I took a breath, wondering if I’d said too much. Presenting Joe as my backup could work in my favor, but it could just as easily backfire and get me killed. No, I’d played it right.

  “Besides,” I continued, “you’re accusin’ me of keepin’ secrets from you. Seems to me that you ought to be glad I’m capable of keepin’ secrets.” When his eyes turned hard, I lifted my mouth into a partial smile. “Sounds like what you really want is for me to share my secrets about everyone but you.”

  His jaw tightened. “You know secrets about Malcolm. He just tried to have you killed. We’ll help protect you if you tell us what he’s up to with Carmichael.”

  As if I knew. Did he suspect James was handling the prescription drug end of the business while Denny cooked? “That information is not for barter or for sale.”

  “You’ll scoff at our offer of help and let that man kill you?”

  It struck me that Gerard hadn’t brought me here to get me to speak out against James. Brox’s news had surprised him, but he’d seen an opportunity and pounced on it. He had another purpose.

  “I swore to keep his secrets. My word means something to me, Gerard. So let’s cut to the chase. I know exactly why I’m here. You know about the grand jury and you’re afraid of what I’m gonna say.” I held out my hands again. “If you’d like to have a real discussion, I suggest you treat me with respect, and I’ll do the same.” I nearly issued a threat, but I bit it back. I was in a house in the woods with three armed men and no weapon of my own, with my hands bound. Fortune was not on my side. I needed to make sure any threats I issued had teeth.

  “Or,” Gerard said matter-of-factly, “since you refuse to provide us with useful information, we could just kill you and have nothin’ to worry about.” He lifted his shoulder into a half shrug. “No grand jury. No slipped secrets.”

  I pursed my lips, trying to hide my fear, because I doubted he was bluffing. “True, and Denny Carmichael could have done the same when he sent his man to see me this morning, but he was smart enough to realize he’d be high on the suspect list if something happened to me.”

  “We have the fact that no one knows you have a connection to us in our favor. We’ll never fall on the sheriff’s radar,” Gerard said.

  “Not entirely true,” I countered. “Skeeter Malcolm knows you and I have had dealin’s.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “And I thought we’d established that Malcolm’s cut you loose.”

  “True,” I said in a dry tone, “but with his men dead in a parking lot, he’s gonna be lookin’ for whoever killed them.”

  “It seems like you’d be at the head of that suspect list,” Gerard said.

  “Maybe so, but Joe’s gonna come lookin’ for me and Malcolm’s not gonna cop to tryin’ to snatch me from that parking lot. After your fallin’ out with him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he offered your name on a silver platter, especially since Malcolm and Carmichael seem to be gettin’ pretty cozy.” If Gerard thought the two of them were working together, I might as well use that to my advantage.

  Gerard’s jaw worked. “So Carmichael and Malcolm are workin’ together?”

  Oh. So his question had been a fishing expedition. Mercy, I was off my game, but I could still use this to my advantage. “I take my secrets seriously. I do not betray confidences.” He continued staring at me. “But I will only give you this warning once: Carmichael has a future project he wants me to work on. He’ll be pissed if you kill me before I can fulfill it.”

  Gerard scowled.

  I held out my hands and offered him a saccharine smile.

  Gerard flicked his eyes to Brox, and then the younger man pulled out his pocketknife. A quick slice through the tape cut me loose. He started to gently peel it from my skin, but I jerked my hands back and ripped the tape off, refusing to cringe from the pain it caused.

  Carey shot me a hateful glare, obviously disapproving of Gerard’s decision to free my hands. I could handle his glares. I was the damn Lady in Black.


  “Now,” I said, scooting my chair back and resting a hand on the table. “Let’s get to it. You’re concerned about my grand jury testimony.”

  “You think you’re so fucking smart,” Carey snipped.

  I turned slightly to face him. Carey was a hothead and I’d be smart to keep him in my line of sight. “So there’s something else you wish to discuss, then?”

  “You fu—”

  “Enough!” Gerard shouted. “She’s no fool, Carey, and we’re negotiatin’. We’ll treat her with the respect she currently deserves.”

  Carey’s lips clamped together even though it was clear he had plenty more to add to the subject.

  “So what do you plan to say?” Gerard asked, his shoulder tensing. He didn’t like that I’d taken control, but I didn’t care. My life might depend on my taking charge of their forced interrogation. The fact I’d gotten them to free my hands was in my favor.

  “My testimony’s supposed to be a secret, Gerard. That’s how a grand jury works.”

  His hand on the table stiffened into a fist. “I don’t tolerate impertinence.”

  “And I don’t tolerate bein’ manhandled, but here we are, both of us unhappy, so let’s get this discussion over with so I can go home and go to bed.”

  Carey took a step toward me and Brox’s body vibrated with anger.

  “We don’t hurt women,” Brox said.

  “We do if they’re disrespectful,” Carey said, his hands balling at his side.

  “Only if they’re our wives. We aren’t allowed to physically reprimand other women.”

  Were these guys for real? Sadly, I believed they were.

  Carey groaned in disgust. “Malcolm doesn’t want her anymore, and whatever purpose Carmichael might have for her, I doubt he’ll care if she shows up with a few bruises.”

  “No,” Brox snarled.

  “She’s disrespectful and uppity. She needs to learn her place.” Carey stood inches from his brother, only a fraction shorter than Brox, though not as heavily muscled. I had no doubt that Brox could take him, but would he fight his brother over me?

 

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