Fulfilling Promises (Red Starr, Book Five) (5 page)

“Would you mind staying with Devyn while I make a couple of phone calls?”

“Of course not,” Jenna replied, shooing him away with her other hand. Her eyes were still bright with unshed tears. “Go. I’ll be right here.”

“Try talking her into going upstairs and getting some rest,” Trigger murmured as he walked past. He looked over his shoulder to see Devyn setting her coffee back on her desk as she knelt down to clean up the papers scattered on the floor. He narrowed his eyes, recognizing her movements were somewhat hurried. She wasn’t boxing up the files to give to the police. She didn’t want Jenna to see what was written in them. “She needs sleep.”

Trigger motioned for Diesel to follow him out of the office and then quietly closed the door behind them. He reached for the phone in his back pocket only to realize there wasn’t a private place to make his calls. He motioned to Isaac that he was stepping outside the back door and the older man then called out to Diesel, who happily made his way behind to the back of the bar where he would get some snacks as well as water.

“Dixon, good to see you, man,” Luke Stoddard said, standing next to the pool table and blocking Trigger’s path down the hallway and out the back door. “I’m sorry to hear about Joey. He and I went way back.”

Trigger shook hands with Luke, thinking of how much things had changed since their high school years. Luke had a receding hairline and had also put on a few pounds since the last time they’d seen each other. Luke and Joey had played varsity basketball together and had been two of the Famous Five back in the day. It was rare their small high school ever claimed championships, but their senior year had been an exception.

“I wish I could stay and talk, but I have to step out back to make a couple of phone calls.” Trigger made his way around Luke with a slap to his back, knowing he’d be stuck there for an hour if he so much as gave Luke the chance to continue speaking. “I’m sure I’ll see you later.”

Trigger had to dodge a few more people coming out of the restrooms on his way out the door, but he finally made it outside where he would have sworn the humidity had risen another ten percent. He didn’t want anyone to overhear him, so he continued walking around the back of the stores until he reached his Jeep on the far backside of the parking lot. He didn’t immediately place the call, but instead sat in the driver’s seat and took time to absorb all that had taken place.

Joey had been murdered.

Trigger rested his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes, allowing himself to feel the pain he couldn’t in front of Devyn. She didn’t need people making her feel worse right now.

Who could have wanted to hurt Joey? Who could have taken his life in such a cruel fashion? There were so many unanswered questions, but all of those would be dealt with in time. Right now? Joey was still gone and nothing they did would bring him back.

Memories of their youth played like a movie and he gave himself time to remember their excursions in the swamps, the dangerous dares they would give each other, and the nights they would sneak out to meet up for a smoke they’d stolen from Mac’s office or a bottle he’d mislaid. Trigger smiled fondly recalling the first package Joey had sent him on deployment…the entire box had been filled with home-rolled cigarettes.

The two of them had been almost inseparable, with the exception of sports. Trigger had played football, whereas Joey had been six foot, four inches in his sophomore year and added on a couple more by the time he’d graduated. They had both been a little wild back in the day, but wasn’t that what boys did? They’d attended their fair share of parties, drank their limit of moonshine on the weekends, and drag raced through town on any given Saturday night.

Joey was dead.

All that was left were the memories of a man who would have given the shirt off of his back to anyone in need. Devyn made it sound as if Joey had never recovered from being turned away by the Corps, but that wasn’t the way Trigger remembered it. He’d gone to the community college, and though he’d never graduated, he made a decent living out at the steel mill until Trigger had talked him into taking over the garage.

Joey had always been the first to meet up with Trigger when he’d roll into town, and he’d be the last one to tip a jug with on Trigger’s way out. When he’d been given an offer to join the Red Starr team, Joey had been the first person in mind to trust in managing the garage. There had never been a doubt, but now? Why had Joey been keeping personal information on their customers? That smelled of some kind of paranoia, something Joey wasn’t.

“Damn it, Joey,” Trigger muttered to himself, pressing his fingers to his burning eyes. He pulled himself together and then looked at his phone. Only one reception bar was lit up. “Shit.”

Trigger still tried to make the call. He eyed the gathering storm clouds as the ringing cut in and out to the point he couldn’t even tell if Starr had picked up her line. He disconnected.

“Need help getting that top on?”

There were moments in a man’s life, no matter how young or old, when only a father could make things right. Jack Dixon’s voice sure as hell was a soothing sound to Trigger’s thirty-one-year-old ears. He unfolded his large frame and took one step—into his father’s welcoming arms.

“I’m so sorry you had to come home to this, son,” Jack muttered, slapping Trigger on the back a couple of times in support. “Margie called your mom on the way in from the airport. I figured you might be here, since you weren’t at the house already. Your mother’s worried about you. You holding up okay?”

“I can’t believe it, Dad.” Trigger pulled away and rubbed his hands over his face as he collected himself. “One of the reasons I’m even here is because Joey wasn’t returning my calls. I figured something wasn’t right, but I never considered this as a possibility.”

“Do they know who did it? Margie was telling your mother something about Devyn being questioned by the state detectives, but I can’t believe that for a minute.” Jack walked around the Jeep and unfastened the ties to the soft covered roof. He waited for Trigger to do the same before drawing it over the first roll bar. “Have you spoken with her?”

“They did talk to Devyn,” Trigger informed him as they worked on securing the canvas top. It got his mind on the right track, which was what his father had probably been aiming for. “They have some damning evidence, but I’m going to place a few calls to see what’s taking place behind the scenes. There has to be more information than the police are letting on.”

The two then labored in silence, pulling the plastic wedges into the metal tie-down points. Trigger clamped the front down to the frame just as the first raindrop hit the windshield. He hadn’t worried about his belongings being stolen for several reasons, the main one being that he was already carrying his weapon in a side holster attached to his black leather belt holding up his most comfortable worn blue jeans. His faded black Johnny Cash T-shirt was loose enough that it covered over his 1911A rather well. The other reason? These types of people knew better than to mess with a neighbor’s belongings. It just wasn’t done around these parts. A person asked if he or she had to borrow something. If he or she couldn’t ask first, a note was left behind along with a homemade pie in appreciation.

“Devyn’s exhausted, emotional, and downright angry the police are targeting her and no one else—that we know of just yet,” Trigger continued, falling into step beside his father. He was in his early sixties and considering an early retirement, which he richly deserved. “Dad, I need to ask you a question and you need to answer me straight out.”

“Don’t I always, son?” Jack stopped in front of the door to the tavern, ensuring the small green and white striped awning covered them both. His dark bushy eyebrows rose above his brown eyes in interest as he waited for Trigger’s questions.

“Did Joey go off the rails after I left for the Marines? He told me he’d tried a few drugs here and there, but he always made it sound as if it had been nothing serious.” Trigger recalled what Devyn had said, some things not adding up. “Just how bad was it?”

“I’ll be truthful, son. He didn’t come around that often after you left.” Jack slid his hands inside his heavy set canvas khakis, a thoughtful look on his face. “We would see him once or twice a month, usually here at the tavern if your mother and I stopped in after seeing a movie up in Corinth. He always made sure he sat with us for a few minutes and always caught us up on news around town. I’d heard a rumor or two he’d been into a few things, but Joey always appeared to be fine to us. After you left for San Diego and Red Starr, he worked harder than anyone to make sure that garage stayed open. Everyone talked about how dedicated he was to making it just as good as when Mac had been running the place years back.”

Had Joey been trying to prove something? Trigger had never meant for his friend to feel that way, but something had gone wrong along the way—maybe not with the garage, but with one of the customers. What had caused Joey to start keeping personal information about them on his work orders? Had he suspected one of the residents of doing something illegal? Was that the reason he’d been killed? If that was the case, wouldn’t the scumbag have taken the paperwork and burned it?

“Dad, do me a favor and keep your ears open,” Trigger said, knowing full well he was about to get involved with the investigation. He wouldn’t leave here until they had answers. “You deal with almost everyone in this town at some point or another. Someone is liable to say something that might help.”

“Of course I will.” Jack looked off to their left, a tender smile appearing on his face. Trigger didn’t have to be told his mother had just arrived. “The entire crew just pulled up. I told them to give you time here with Devyn, but they—”

“I know, Dad.” Trigger loved his family very much. They were always there for one another and he was starting to understand just how alone Devyn must be feeling right now. “Can you hold them off for a minute? I want to make sure Devyn gets some rest first.”

“I’ll do what I can, but you know your mother and sister. They both have their own way of doing things.”

Trigger caught the headlights of some other vehicles as they drove through the rain and into the parking lot. The place would only get busier as the day wore on. Amberton was a very small town. Someone here had to know something and it was only a matter of sifting through the useless chatter in order to find anything to latch onto. His family would understand what needed to be done.

“Trigger.”

Trigger looked over his shoulder to see what had captured his father’s attention. A disconcerting foreboding settled over him as he saw the flashing red and blue lights circling atop of a state police cruiser as it pulled into the parking lot, followed by the headlights of an unmarked car. Both of the vehicles had their windshield wipers smearing the rain away as they pulled up directly in front of the entrance.

“This can’t be good, Dad,” Trigger muttered, wondering why they would be back here so soon after Devyn’s release. A couple of police officers stepped out of the vehicle and came forward, eventually walking past them and into the tavern. “I need to go inside and use the landline in Devyn’s office. I have a feeling she’s going to need Starr’s assistance quicker than I had anticipated.”

‡

D
evyn jolted straight
up in bed, reaching for someone who was no longer there. Her dream about Joey had been so vivid, so real. She let her hand drop as she tried to breathe through the pain of remembering he was gone forever. Her chest hurt so much from the heartache.

“Dev?”

She tried, really tried, telling Trigger to leave. The heavy sob overtook her body, so she slowly lay back against the sheets and pulled her pillow to her chest. She buried her face in the warm pillowcase and attempted to pull herself together, but the dam had broken and there was no piecing it back together.

The mattress dipped as Trigger joined her, forming her body as he pulled her to him. Her back was to his chest and all he did was hold her. He didn’t speak, he didn’t give her platitudes, and he didn’t tell her everything was going to be okay like so many of the townsfolk had.

No one had answers regarding such a tragedy as this, and yet people always said things would be okay. Her life would never be right again. People offered to help, not really meaning it. What could they do? They stressed how the pain would fade, but they weren’t experiencing the sharp wound to their hearts.

No, Trigger didn’t say anything of the sort. Instead, he simply held her.

Devyn cried for the little boy who would make her peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner when their mom was working late. She mourned for the protective teenager who made sure his baby sister’s first date had enough money to buy her dinner. She grieved for her brother whose loyalty was beyond question and whose love had been without end.

Joey hadn’t been perfect. He’d had his flaws, but he had been her family. Devyn had loved him unconditionally, just as he had her.

Why had Joey been clutching her necklace? What had happened down at the swamp? Devyn couldn’t bear to think of him dying alone. They’d always promised to be there for one another and yet her last words had been said in anger.