Mint Juleps and Justice (23 page)

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Authors: Nancy Naigle

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Suspense, #Contemporary Fiction, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense, #Series

BOOK: Mint Juleps and Justice
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Brooke made sure everything was moving along and then went to the house to catch a short break and a second wind to keep up with all the action.

J
enny took a sip of punch and waved to Rick, who was dancing with an older woman from the church.

Mike walked over to join her and grabbed a mint julep from a passing waiter.

“Don’t you ever hurt my best friend again,” Jenny warned.

He searched her face for a moment. He needed to say it out loud to someone. “When my wife died I didn’t think I would ever love again. Brooke changed all that.”

Jenny cocked her head slightly. “She’s in love with you.”

“I fell for Brooke the day I met her.” He stared off as if he were replaying it in his mind. Mike’s words trailed off as he shook the ice in his glass nervously. Where was she? She’d said ten minutes max. He glanced at his watch again. It was going on half an hour, and there was that feeling again. The one he got when something was getting ready to go really wrong.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

B
rooke walked out on the front porch to get some air. The excitement of Rick planning to propose to Jenny had been so romantic and then Mike showing up was almost too much to process. With the push of a hundred fifty excited people ready to cheer on Hillcrest Joyful Kixx in the Derby she’d needed just a few minutes to get her thoughts together.

She sat on the porch swing. The sounds coming from the back of the house were comforting, but something didn’t feel right. She put her foot on the decking to stop the swing. For a moment, she was afraid to even take a breath. The feeling of being watched was familiar, and not in a good way.

She scanned the yard around the porch, but everything looked fine. The celebratory noise from the barn reminded her that this was a happy occasion, and there was no sense spoiling it with some bad vibes.

The phone in the house rang. She ran inside and glanced at the caller ID but it said UNKNOWN.

“Hello? Hello? Is anyone there? Joyner residence.” Her greetings were met with silence. She dropped the phone back in its cradle and started to go back out on the front porch. The phone rang again. She took the steps back inside and grabbed it mid-ring.

“Hello.”

Someone pulled her backward and a rag went over her face. She kicked her feet, trying to get traction on the slick wooden floor to pull free, but the arm pulled her back farther and lifted her off the ground.

The harder she struggled, the more she seemed to lose ground. Then everything went dark.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

S
he was stronger than he’d expected. He hadn’t anticipated a struggle. Good thing he had talked through the plan with Wheelie. That guy knew all the ins and outs of everything. He’d received an unexpected lecture about how things in real life weren’t like they looked on TV and picked up two or three good tips about making the chloroform mixture. He’d gotten the warning too that it might kill her, but then he’d just have to go to plan B. No problem. He always had a plan B.

There was no way he would have won the struggle she gave him if it had lasted much longer. Good thing he had the help of the chloroform, because she didn’t seem willing to give up on her own.

His arms burned from the mixture on the rag and just when he thought he couldn’t hold on any longer, she softened in his grip. Still wearing the surgical mask, not as a disguise but to protect himself from the overwhelming fumes of the chloroform, he dropped the towel, thrust his arms under hers, and dragged her quickly toward a truck parked out front.

“Not as quick and easy as it looks in the movies, but it worked.” He lifted her into the passenger seat, then slid behind the steering wheel.

He turned the keys that were dangling from the ignition like he knew they would be.

“Country folk are so damn trusting,” he muttered under his breath. He didn’t know how long she’d be out, so he made quick work of tying her hands together just in case. He wasn’t in a hurry. He had a lot to do before tomorrow night and he would be sure to take the time to do it all perfectly according to plan this time.

He turned on the air-conditioning and let the air wash over his face. It was cool against the sweat on his skin. He pulled the truck out of the driveway slowly so as to not attract any attention from anyone else arriving at the party. The gravel crunched under the tires of the big truck.

He knew exactly where they were going. He had been there before.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

H
ave you seen Brooke?” Mike asked Rick.

“No, not in a while. She’s probably checking that list of hers.” Rick pulled out his cell phone and pushed redial. “No answer.”

The party was in full swing, but he’d wandered through the crowd twice and didn’t find her. “I’m worried. It’s not like her to disappear.”

Jenny cocked her head and gave Mike a look
.
“Y’all didn’t have another fight, did you?”

“No,” Mike said. The level of his anxiety rose.

One of the people in earshot said, “I think I heard Brooke tell someone she was going up to the house to do something. That was a while ago, though.”

“She probably got sidetracked,” Jenny said. “I’ll go look for her.”

Mike stopped her. “No. It’s your party. You’re the guest of honor. I’ll go.” He set his drink down on one of the tables and jogged up to the house.

“Brooke?” He called out as he threw open the back screen door, and stepped into the kitchen.

The telephone was on the floor.

Mike paused. Hearing nothing, he moved quickly through the kitchen to the living room. The front door was ajar, and on the floor nearby was the jeweled comb he’d given to her just hours ago.

He picked it up and held it in his hands.

“No.” He dialed her cell phone, but as soon as the line rang he heard the echo of a cell phone ringing on the front porch. He ran outside; there on the porch near the swing—her phone.

Stay calm. There could be an explanation. Goto is dead. You’re just on high alert.

He turned and rushed back to the barn through the groups that stood talking, and climbed on the stage, taking the mic right from the singer’s hands.

The band stopped playing.

“Sorry.” Everyone’s attention turned toward the scuffle on stage. “Sorry. This is an emergency.”

Rick and Jenny ran to the stage area.

“Has anyone seen Brooke Justice? Short? Brunette?” Mike lowered the mic as he scanned the crowd, but no one responded.

Mike pulled the mic back up to his mouth. “She’s the only lady running around here without a hat on.”

Heads shook and people mumbled.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Mike jumped down.

Rick snagged his arm as he ran by. “What’s up?”

“Something’s wrong. She’s missing.”

“I’m sure there’s an explanation,” Jenny said, trying to calm him down.

Mike held the comb out for her to see. “The phone was on the kitchen floor and this was lying next to the front door on the floor.”

“She wouldn’t have left that behind.”

“The front door was open.”

“We had that locked. No one was using the house but Brooke and me.”

“I know.”

“Do you think it’s her ex-husband again?” Rick asked.

“Maybe. I’m calling the police. With the pending charges against him they may even still have him in custody. If not, they can run him down faster than I can. I’ll get Von on the phone too.”

Rick took Jenny’s hand into his. “Is her car still here? We were both parked next to Rick’s truck out front.”

Mike nodded. “Yeah. Her car is still there, but your truck is missing.”

“What can we do?” Jenny looked between Mike and Rick.

Mike’s lips pulled into a tight line. “Nothing except pray I’m wrong and I’m overreacting.”

“Are you thinking—” Rick didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to. Mike was thinking exactly what he was thinking.

J
ust outside the front door, Mike noticed the blue rag on the ground. He picked it up and sniffed it. The sweet smell was unmistakable, and although that stuff evaporated quickly, there was still enough there to give him a slight head buzz. Chloroform. Old-school. Just like Goto. This wasn’t good.

Mike pulled the front door of the house shut and jogged back to his vehicle, then punched in Sheriff Calvin’s number and brought him up-to-date with what he’d just found.

Sheriff Calvin’s voice held a tone of concern. “I think she would have mentioned it if she’d heard from that ex of hers. I don’t see anything here that she’s reported.”

“Could you get someone to track him down and see what he’s been up to the last couple of days?”

“Absolutely. We’re on it. I’ll also get an APB out on Rick’s truck to see if we can locate that. Let’s touch base at the top of the hour and sync up. If not sooner.”

“Thanks, Sheriff. I have a couple ideas I’m running down. Just hang tight with me.”

“Count on it, buddy.”

Rick insisted on going with Mike. The short distance between Rick’s and town seemed like miles today. Time was ticking slowly in his state of confusion. Once back at his office, Mike continued his search using the technology he had at his fingertips, which reported no unusual activities for Keith over the last couple of days.

Only fifteen minutes had gone by when Sheriff Calvin got an update from his precinct. They had easily located Keith at his home and he had an airtight alibi. He didn’t seem to have any information to help them.

The officers arranged for a detective to keep track of Keith, just in case. Sheriff Calvin was not taking any chances with Brooke’s safety.

Mike’s phone rang. “Mike here.”

“Mike, it’s Von.”

“What do you have?” He hoped it was something good.

“A text message.”

“Great.”

“No, not great. It’s not from Brooke’s number, but it says it’s from Brooke.”

“Go on…” Mike’s jaw tightened.

Von read it to Mike. “It says, ‘Goto hell. Déjà vu?’”

Mike’s text message alert sounded on his phone. “Hang on,” he said to Von. He swept his finger over the icons to retrieve the message.

Goto Hell. Déjà vu?

He pulled the phone back up to his ear. “I just got it too.”

Rick rounded the corner. “Mike. I just—”

“I got it too,” Mike said as he swallowed back the fear that threatened to break him. “Rick got the message too, Von.”

Von’s voice was rigid. “He has her. Why is he playing this game with us?”

Mike went white. The room spun. Déjà vu? No. “I know where she is.”

“I thought the guy was dead. I’m on my way,” Von said.

“I knew it was too good to be true,” Mike said. “Get here. I need y’all with me on this,” he said, looking toward Rick, “because if I find him first I’m going to squeeze the life out of him with my bare hands.”

V
on’s profiling expertise came in handy. He’d quickly pulled the other cases that they’d suspected Goto was guilty of
,
but had been unable to prove. Then he had their computer system pull data on all the cellmates Goto had spent time with over the past eight years. That was an opportunity for Goto to pick up a new skill or idea that wouldn’t have been part of his prior profile. Armed with that data, Mike now had a good idea what else Goto was capable of. As if what he’d done before wasn’t bad enough.

Sheriff Calvin gathered his team at the station. Von was on his way, and Mike and Rick had marked out the property information on the diagram in the precinct room.

Mike put Von on the speakerphone as they briefed all team members on the plan and possible scenarios.

“You’ve been busy. This sounds like a good plan. So my job is to just stall him while you all get into position, right?” Von confirmed.

“Yes. Exactly. No plan is perfect, so I need you to take the precautions we talked about, just in case. When will you be here?”

Von said, “I should be at your place in fifteen more minutes.”

“Perfect. We’re all here. Just waiting on you and we can make the move.”

“Mike. We’ll get her back. She’s the pawn. You’re the target. Be smart. It’s going to be all right.”

“It has to be, Von. It has to be.”

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