Fulfilling Promises (Red Starr, Book Five) (2 page)

Joey had hoped the two would take things to the next level, but a visit from Catori Starr had changed the course of Trigger’s life. The opportunity to join the elite Red Starr squad wasn’t something he could have passed up and Devyn had too many roots at home to pick up and leave. Life happened and choices had needed to be made without suffering regret. Regret was like a bag of bricks. Why lug all that shit around for no reason?

“So you’re not here for Joey’s funeral?”

Trigger must have heard Cody wrong, so he continued to stare at the man until it was apparent he wasn’t going to say anything more. There had to be some horrible misunderstanding. Joey couldn’t be dead. Cody sometimes had a sick sense of humor, but this was taking things too fucking far. Diesel must have sensed his struggle to comprehend what Cody was saying, because the Shepherd shifted his body against Trigger’s left knee and stiffened.

“Could you repeat what you just said?” Trigger asked rather slowly, wishing the suppressing humidity hadn’t rolled in with the gathering clouds. It would have made it a hell of a lot easier to breathe. “Did you just say—”

“Oh man,” Cody said with a remorseful shake of his head. He rubbed his palm over the front of his stained shirt. “I’m so sorry, John. I thought you knew. Joey’s body was found down in the swamp south of town, out past Cold Creek Road, last night by two boys gigging frogs in their ion boat. You know, the place where we would go partying back in the day? The Staties at first thought maybe it was a suicide, but it didn’t take long for them to decide he’d been murdered.”

Trigger slowly inhaled, trying to sort through the information that was rapidly being given as if he hadn’t just had a devastating blow to his chest. His friend, his buddy who had stayed home where it was safe…dead. He needed a minute to compose himself, refusing to allow Cody to share in his grief. Joey and Trigger’s bond had been one of brothers, and now that was gone. Something Cody would never know anything about, because a person needed to put another before him or herself to have that kind of friend. Trigger experienced an emptiness he hadn’t since his time in the service.

“You’re telling me someone murdered Joey right here in Amberton?” Trigger tightened his fingers around the set of keys, digging the metal into the palm of his hand. How was he going to tell his mother that her second son was gone? Joey and Devyn’s upbringing hadn’t been the best, both of them living with their mother in a singlewide trailer north of here on a small patch of cleared land. Just like any other town in America during the late nineties, there was the lower, middle, and not-so upper class. Trigger’s father had made a decent living, though they never flaunted it. Jack Dixon was a thrifty man. Joey had been like a second son to Gail and Jack Dixon. As with anyone, time tended to put distance between all of them, but Joey’s death was still going to be hard on them. Trigger wanted answers. “Do they know who or how?”

It was a well-known fact that the state police covered this area due to the small size of the community and the fact that the county sheriff was just an old retired military veteran handling mostly administrative work. The sheriff would have been little more than a road bump for anyone acting like a real criminal, although he did carry a sidearm. Murder would have had the boys in the smokies out here in force.

“Yeah, sort of,” Cody answered somewhat somberly, glancing over his shoulder toward the entrance of The Laughing Griffin. He swung his dark gaze back and it was evident he didn’t want to say anything else. Trigger stared him down while still trying to grasp the fact that his friend was dead. “Well, they think they know. Trigger, the police took Devyn in for questioning last night. They finally let her go this morning, but it won’t be long before they arrest her from what I hear. That’s why everyone is here…to show their support and all.”

Trigger was well acquainted with the sounds of mortars and the lethal sound of them hitting the ground…the rumble of the earth below his feet. It was the deep penetrating cracks echoing across the ground that could leave a person with their ears ringing and a cold sweat on their skin. He was experiencing that now, the effect from Cody’s words just as devastating.

“Is she inside?”

Trigger didn’t really wait for an answer, but he still caught the affirmative reply as he started to jog across the gravel parking lot toward the storefronts. Diesel followed close by, the sooty grey stones crunching underneath their steps as they quickly made their way to the old wooden swinging doors that would have been right at home in a spaghetti Western. It was the staple of this old tavern. He swung them open and immediately stepped inside, ignoring the stale air filled with the recognizable odors of hamburger grease, cheap beer, and home-rolled cigarettes.

“Can you believe…”

“Do you think she…”

“The body was…”

“The police said…”

All of the numerous conversations faded as the doors swung closed behind him. The patrons recognized who had just walked in the door and were now watching him closely. Diesel remained steadfast in his determination to remain by his owner and never left Trigger’s side as they both made their way through the maze of additional tables Isaac must have setup for the influx of patrons.

The place was well lit considering it was early afternoon and the windows allowed the sunlight to filter in. The clapboard construction of these old stores was cookie cutter—deeper than they were wide. The bar ran down the left-hand wall almost to the back hallway. There were bathrooms opposite the office and storage room with doors on either side. The pool table was just short of the corridor on the right side along with a couple of small booths for couples. Mostly the bar consisted of high-top tables and simple wooden barstools for seating, even at the bar. The only dash of color was the neon Wurlitzer, and that was turned off in respect for the solemn nature of the recent events.

Isaac Bigham was standing behind the counter with a bar towel thrown over his shoulder. He couldn’t look any more cliché if he wanted to. He was in his sixties and of mixed heritage, although the Native American side had given him his deep brown, almost black eyes. They were canvassing the place in a rather protective manner, his fondness for Devyn making him more like a father figure.

“Where is she?” Trigger asked once he was close enough to the bar for Isaac to hear him clearly.

“In the back.” Isaac wiped his hand on the cotton fabric before extending his arm over the clean counter. They shook hands and the bartender held on longer than necessary to make his point. “It’s bad, John. I was going to call you this afternoon once things had calmed down a bit. I know your parents and your sister’s family are out of town.”

“I appreciate that, but one of the reasons I came into town was because Joey wasn’t returning my calls. It was unlike him, especially since he took over the garage and was managing the place for me.” Trigger’s throat constricted at saying his friend’s name. Joey was gone. It was still hard to fathom. “Give me the rundown before I go see her.”

“Joey went missing a few days ago.” Isaac leaned his elbows on the smooth wooden surface covered in a thick coat of polyurethane, not wanting his words to carry. There was already enough gossip to lug these people through for weeks, let alone finding out what few personal details Devyn had managed to keep to herself and didn’t need to share. “Devyn had even gone out to the garage after a few local customers complained Joey hadn’t opened the place up since last Friday. He wasn’t there, nor was he at his trailer down Cold Creek. She checked with all of his friends, his on-and-off again girlfriend, and even called the Magnolia Regional Health Center over in Corinth.”

“Did Devyn call the police?”

Trigger realized that the majority of Amberton was leery of the Staties, but that was more ingrained from previous generations and their dealings with revenuers and later the crews the banks hired to foreclose on the local farmers. Plus, Devyn would have called out the National Guard for her brother if she’d had the ability.

“No.” Isaac motioned for Trigger to come a little closer. “Devyn received a message on the bar’s answering machine that night. It was a call from Joey saying he had things to take care of and he’d be back in town by the end of the week. Only his body was found by some teens who went out to the swamp last night to celebrate their graduation and gig some frogs.”

“Cause of death?” Trigger asked, steeling himself for what Isaac was going to reveal. If Devyn had been questioned, the police thought they’d found something to connect her to the murder. She was innocent, though. Trigger didn’t even need to ask one question to know that beyond a shadow of a doubt. She wasn’t capable of hurting her brother, let alone taking his life for any reason.

“Gunshot wound to the head.” Isaac’s lips thinned out as his dark gaze swung to the office door in the back of the place off to his left side. His concern was evident, but Devyn had a tendency to keep people at arms’ length…even those she loved. “The police showed up last night and took Devyn in for questioning. I was all ready to use the bar’s checking account to bail her out, but they let her go without pressing charges. She doesn’t even have a good attorney and will probably take one of those state defenders. You know, the ones who have about two months out of law school worth of experience.”

“What evidence did they even have to question her on?” Trigger asked, wanting as many details as he could get before talking to Devyn. She was independent and liked to handle things on her own, regardless of who was offering help. “Cody mentioned the state police originally thought it was suicide?”

“I don’t know where he’s getting that fucked-up information,” Isaac said in a tone that indicated he wasn’t surprised at the rumors swirling about. “I was here when the Staties came looking for her. Joey was shot with Devyn’s coach gun, Trigger. The one we keep behind the bar, but it wasn’t loaded with rock salt like we keep it in here…more like a double-ought buckshot.”

Trigger took one of the few empty stools at the bar, leaning into the seat as he absorbed everything Isaac was saying. This was bad, but they would have swabbed Devyn’s hands for gunshot residue. The absence of it would probably be why they hadn’t charged her, but it wouldn’t take the sting out of the fact she’d been suspected and questioned at length. Something like this tainted a person’s reputation and she already had one for being wild, regardless of the fact that nothing anyone ever said was even remotely close to the truth.

“Did you—”

“I already took care of identifying Joey’s body.” Isaac straightened his tall frame, looking over Trigger’s shoulder. He could see in the mirror behind the bar that everyone was watching the two men have their discussion. The conversations never did pick back up and they were all trying to gather grist for the rumor mill. “Devyn needs her true friends now more than ever.”

That was the kicker, wasn’t it? Devyn didn’t do friends. She had acquaintances, she had her customers, she had her bar, and she had her brother. Only she didn’t have Joey anymore and the folks questioning her character were starting to wonder what could have happened. She would most likely close herself off even more when someone she knew eventually questioned her involvement.

“It’s a shame, really. Two deaths in a matter of two weeks,” Isaac said, reaching for an empty beer mug. “This town has already been through the wringer and now this.”

“Two?” Trigger braced himself for more bad news. Just when he thought things couldn’t get worse. “Who else died, Isaac?”

“Ken Feragon. He never returned home from his teaching job at the high school in Corinth. Sarah drove out there and found his body inside the trunk of his car. Rumor has it the trunk was only partially closed. They think it was a robbery gone bad.”

Coincidence? Ken had been an upstanding guy. He’d graduated and gone to college on a sports scholarship. He married his high school sweetheart and had three children. His life…over in a split second. Who could possibly think a high school teacher had much money?

Trigger reached down and gave Diesel a scratch on the head. The Shepherd could sense the tension in the air. This wasn’t the homecoming either of them had expected.

“You’re a good man, Isaac,” Trigger said, meaning every word. “Devyn’s lucky to have you as a friend.”

Isaac didn’t reply, but his dark eyes became rather misty as he pulled the towel off of his shoulder and wiped his hands. He slowly turned and walked down to the other side of the bar, leaving Trigger to go do what he needed to. His gut clenched at the thought of seeing Devyn in so much pain. This wasn’t how he’d pictured running into her, but he couldn’t allow her to go through this on her own. He would eventually have to put in a call to Starr soon and see if she had any pull in the state of Mississippi. It wouldn’t surprise him if she did. Devyn needed a good attorney before she answered any more questions.

“Let’s go, boy.”

Trigger stood and walked behind the row of stools at the bar in the direction of Devyn’s office. Several of the customers murmured their greetings, but no one stopped him. There was nothing left to say to any of them. He closed his eyes and gathered his composure before lifting his hand. He rapped his knuckles on the solid wood door and waited. He had a feeling she wouldn’t answer, so he reached down for the doorknob and turned the handle.

Diesel was through the door before Trigger could stop him, so he finally widened the entrance enough to step through. He wasn’t sure what he expected—maybe Devyn crying at her desk or at least curled up on the couch she kept on the sidewall. He certainly didn’t anticipate the total wreckage of what used to be her office. Multiple boxes and hundreds of papers surrounded Devyn as she sat on the floor looking anything like a grieving sister. She was furious and Diesel’s presence did nothing to alleviate her anger.

“Get out, John. I don’t need you here right now.”

‡