The Body in the Landscape (A Cherry Tucker Mystery Book 5) (26 page)

“If I deserve this, why are you helping me?”

“Because if we all got what we deserved, this world would be even more hellish than it already is. The law doesn’t always work, but we need order.”

“Mike wanted me to shoot myself,” sobbed Rick. “Held his gun on me. But when he heard Jeff Digby coming, he tied me here and tossed the rifle.” He pointed to a massing of the long, fronded leaves of a Georgia buckeye shrub.

I dove at the bush. My hands grasped the wooden stock and I snatched the rifle. I scrambled to my feet and ran through the trees. Ten yards from the men, I stopped. They continued to grapple, grunting and panting with vicious desperation. Without checking to see if anything was chambered, I pushed forward the safety and aimed at the tree line across the ravine.

The rifle cracked. Mike flinched and caught himself, turning toward the shot. Jeff’s reaction was quicker. He charged, knocking Mike onto his back, and pinned the rifle against Mike’s chest.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” said Jeff, raising his Marlin. The butt crashed against Mike’s skull. His head lolled to the side.

Satisfied, Jeff climbed off his chest to stand and face me.

Damn, I hope I’m right, I thought, staring at the brawny man.

His .45 would make a bigger hole than my .30.

Thirty-Eight

The mist made the scene eerier, less real. Hard-edged and hostile, Jeff loomed over Mike’s unconscious body. I tightened my hands on the Winchester, knowing it didn’t serve much protection against the adrenaline rush coursing through the giant before me.

“How’d you get away?” Jeff’s brown ochre eyes narrowed.

“I have slender ankles.” My scowl deepened. “I don’t appreciate getting tied up.”

“I don’t care. You were getting in the way.” His shoulders twitched. “I didn’t need your help.”

“The hell you didn’t.” I glanced at Mike. “How bad is his injury?”

“He’s going to have a hell of a headache.”

I blew out a deep sigh and lowered my gun. “Did he kill Abel and Lesley?”

“Not sure about Lesley. Mike found him watching the bunkhouse and said he chased him off. Lesley could have slipped. But Abel?” Jeff paused. “Mike met with him when Abel brought Buckshot to the lodge. Usually I take care of the kennels, but I was busy. I suspected Abel overheard Mike and Jessica talking about Rick. Abel must’ve said something to Mike. Now I’m sure Mike met him walking home and chased him into that ravine. At the time, I had no proof and wasn’t going to rat on Mike to the police if he didn’t do anything. I didn’t want to believe it.”

“Abel was waiting for Rick, who never showed up at the Double Wide. To have Abel leak Mike’s plans to Rick would’ve been a waste of meticulous design. And might have gotten Mike arrested for intent to murder.”

“Mike thought he was protecting someone else’s daughter from that sicko. He really thought Abel’s death was an accident. An accident he caused, but still an accident in his mind. Probably Lesley’s too.” Jeff flicked his stony gaze past me.

“It’d suit you better if that’d been Rick’s skull instead of Mike’s, wouldn’t it?”

He nodded. “Mike’s a good guy. I helped him get his job. Helped him move here. He was under a lot of pressure.”

“I’m sorry, but ‘under pressure’ doesn’t cut it. Mike followed me to Jayce Deed’s camp. I thought Mike was sleeping. When he thought Jayce would expose him, he shot him in cold blood.” I paused. “I thought it was you for a minute.”

“We’re not all meant for murder.” Jeff shook his head. “Never would have thought it of Mike either. Ruby’s death’s been burning him up. And if anyone deserved to die, it’s Rick.”

“But not Abel. Or Lesley or Jayce.”

“Or me or you, if it had come to that,” finished Jeff. “And that bastard’s still alive.”

Below us, Buckshot’s crazed baying had intensified.

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back,” I said, and scurried toward the edge of the hill.

Frantic movement shifted within the denser fog at the bottom and I called out to the dog to let her know I was safe. Slinging the rifle around my shoulder, I skidded down the slope, snatching at branches to slow my momentum. My toe caught a root and I tumbled, sliding on my bottom through the drifts of wet leaves. Buckshot met me with more howls and licks.

“Girl, your timing is crazy scary.” I buried my face in her neck and scrubbed her back. “We got him. You and your pack have your justice. And Abel can rest in peace.”

Her wagging tail shook my body like an earthquake.

The roar of an approaching motor reached my ears. I jerked my face from Buckshot’s fur to grab her collar as she began another spate of crazed baying. A few minutes later, Max limped into view.

“This dog has a fine nose,” said Max, grinning. “She leads me to the lost artist like that dog in the old television show.”

“Where have you been?” I glowered.

“It took some time to find the vehicle you lost.” He pointed behind him with his walking stick, then hitched forward. Offering a hand, he pulled me to standing. “What has happened to leave you looking like this?”

“It was Mike all along. Rick caused his family an unspeakable tragedy and Mike used this contest as a means for revenge. There was an anti-Bob Bass activist invited by Mike to stir up trouble so he could draw attention away from a fatal accident for Rick. Abel Spencer found out somehow. Mike took care of him before Abel could spill the beans and ruin Mike’s chance of ridding the world of Rick.”

“Accidents to detract from a planned one.”

I nodded and wiped away a tear.

“Where is Mike and Rick?”

“Jeff’s holding them up there.” I pointed at the top of the hill and bit my lip to stop its trembling.

Max studied me, then lightened his tone. “Do you know what I have done? Of course, I am the winner. You have my portrait to paint, Artist.”

“You got the hog?” Another tear welled, and I shoved it away with an angry sniffle. His gentleman’s hunting apparel had barely dirtied, whereas I looked like I had waded through Rembrandt’s palette. “That was probably you chasing Hogzilla and shooting at me last night. I figured you for dead in a creek.”

“You wound me. I am invincible, you do not know this by now?” Clasping me in a brief hug, Max rubbed my back, then held my bedraggled self away for further examination. He tucked a frizzy lock of hair behind my ear. “I think you are also invincible. But invincibility is much harder on you.”

I sniffed, but my tears had magically disappeared. “Not all of us enjoyed ourselves. How could you cut off communication?”

“Tennessee and I felt to concentrate we must ignore the drama. I’m sorry that I didn’t believe this drama was so serious. I thought it was a few pranks to put me off guard.” He shoved his hands in his pocket. “Plus there was Viktor at the bunkhouse. It was not a good idea to put us in such close quarters. I heard Viktor had fled to Canada. If I had known he worked here...”

“So you do know him. Dammit, I defended you. Viktor thought you were trying to kill him.”

“Viktor was always paranoid.” Max’s smirk faded. “But I cannot trust him either. He tried to poison me once. Not that it was his fault. He was under orders by the boss. But I will never eat scallops again.”

“Huh.”

Thirty-Nine

T
he low-lying fog was blamed for the inability to send more than one rescue chopper. Knowing small-town police, I figured budget conditions probably trumped the fog. Mike and Rick were flown directly to Swinton’s county sheriff’s department. An unhappy Peach was forced to join them to give her version of the Ban Sapiens enterprise. I had endured another bumpy, mud-sucking ride back to the lodge with Max, Viktor, and
Bob
Bass. Buckshot remained to assist the police in finding Jayce Deed, whom Mike had dragged from the camp and hidden. I had left Buckshot’s brindle coat tearstained and well-hugged. On the other hand, I left Jeff without any farewell. He stayed with the guide Tennessee to bury Hogzilla.

For this, Max had spent the entire ride in a sulk. He had no good footage of his victory other than a handful of overexposed shots taken with his cell phone.

“Shit, anybody could have doctored these,”
Bob
Bass had said with the graciousness of a man accustomed to buying his wins. “Besides, after the hell we’ve been put through, I’d think you’d give up the trophy. Not real sporting of you, Avtaikin.”

Bob did have a point, I thought, but not one I’d ever verbalize.

“Maybe his reward should be my loyalty.” Viktor glanced over his shoulder to catch the Bear’s frigid blue gaze and narrowly missed driving into a sinkhole. “I will not pretend I do not remember you. However, I am no informant. I only threatened you to protect myself. I have no interest in the old life.”

“You would do well to remember this,” said Max, but quirked a smile. “When we return, we should drink to this. I still have the scar where you sewed up my shoulder.”

“Bullet wound?” I asked.

“Chef’s knife.” Max slapped Viktor’s shoulder and laughed.

“Well, if y’all are drinking, I’ll join you. After this weekend, I need it,” said Bob. “And I suppose I should wait for Peach anyway.”

I made no plans for a post-murder drink. A shower seemed more appropriate. By the time we pulled into the lodge parking lot, the fog had lifted and weak afternoon rays struggled to break through the clouds.

“Figures,” I said, looking at the sky. “Now we’ll get some sun.”

Max elbowed me in the ribs. “Do not forget to thank Todd for contacting the police.”

“Of course not,” I said. “Why would I?”

He pointed toward a familiar black Raptor 4x4 parked in the lodge drive. An even more familiar broad-shouldered, lean-hipped man with gray eyes, dusky brown curls, and hidden dimples leaned against the truck. My Deputy McHottie. Next to him leaned my Deputy Rookie. Rookie Holt waved. Deputy McHottie simmered. He didn’t need waves to attract my attention.

“Your personal cavalry has arrived. Not a pleasing sight for your friend, Todd McIntosh,” said Max. “Nor to me.”

I tried to ignore the fluttering in my chest and surreptitiously smoothed my humidity-styled hair. “You don’t like law enforcement, period. And you do business with the Bransons, so you don’t get an opinion on my love life.”

“Artist, this is your problem. We all get to have the opinion on your love life, but you can choose to ignore us. You attribute the opinion to fact, probably because you believe your opinion is thus.”

I eyed him. “I can’t let my family down.”

“They will be angry, yes.” He patted my knee. “If you continue a relationship with Deputy Harper, you may find yourself alienated from everyone. But take this from me, you can learn to live as the island if it is important to you.”

“What would be important enough to cut yourself off from family?”

“Freedom.” The icy blue eyes met mine and he smirked. “Money’s not bad, either.”

“I don’t know if I can do that. Down here, we are judged by our family, because nothing is more important than family. At the end of the day, family’s all you got.”

The side-by-side slowed to a halt. I vaulted from the cramped seat and into Luke’s waiting arms. I pressed my face into the t-shirt smelling of his mother’s favorite fabric softener and tried to free myself from the guilt and misery that had become my personal hog wallow.

Pulling myself together, I freed myself from Luke’s arms and shook Rookie Holt’s hand.

“Good to see you in one piece, Tucker,” she said. “From Todd McIntosh’s report, he was worried you wouldn’t be.”

Luke’s arm slipped around my waist and held tight.

“All’s well when you’re alive, right?” My smile didn’t convince anyone. “I guess your commanding officer will be happy. You’ve got Abel Spencer’s killer. I’m glad I could help.”

Her gaze steeled. “I didn’t ask for your help. All you’ve done is convince me you’re a lunatic. Lucky for you, your boyfriend persuaded me not to file charges to teach you a lesson.”

“I guess this means no celebratory GNO? I was hoping we could be friends. After spending so much time with Buckshot, I realized I could use more girlfriends. Particularly ones who take victim’s dogs into their home.”

She rolled her eyes and hid a smirk. “I’ll think about it. But I never want to see you in Swinton again.”

“Works for me.”

She sauntered over to the Gator, calling for
Bob
Bass. With the officer gone, Max broke his silence to say goodbye.

“Avtaikin.” Luke’s stiff nod matched his voice.

“The artist is not herself these days,” droned the Bear. “Do not add to her stress. She still has a portrait to paint.” With a sharp look toward my gape, he pivoted, and using his walking stick, gimped toward the Twenty Point bar.

“That guy drives me nuts,” said Luke, then hugged me again. “Holt filled me in on some of her investigation. They were able to lift a clean footprint with Traxtone not far from the ravine where the victim died. Swinton’ll get a warrant to search the perp’s boots for a match.”

“Good. I hope Mike confesses, though.” I broke his embrace to peer around the soggy drive. “Have you seen Todd?”

“I heard he got a ride back to Halo.”

As we strolled to Luke’s truck, I refused to reflect on Todd’s lack of goodbye for fear of tears. Our friendship had weathered a few storms, including a three-second marriage. My feelings for Todd were more mixed than a bag of old buttons, but I couldn’t hurt him anymore than I could hurt my family. I just hoped he wasn’t serious about dating Shawna. That idea was so God-awful, even Todd couldn’t pull it off.

I gave Luke a brief account of the tragedy. Before I could finish, he had pulled me off my toes and into another tight embrace.

Pressing my head into his shoulder, he kissed my filthy hair. “Lord, you scare me.”

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” I wrapped my arms around his back and let my head rest in the crook of his neck, seeking a moment’s peace between storms. His lack of noise over my amateur sleuthing didn’t fool me for a second. The stiffened muscles in his shoulders and neck felt like I hugged a steel column.

Luke released me slowly and stepped back. Scrubbing his short curls, he slackened the clench of his jaw and shook out the tension in his shoulders. “The sheriff and I talked over your concerns about the doings here and I got permission to switch shifts with a buddy. The lodge had thought the radio didn’t work because of the storm, but it was Todd’s report to Rookie Holt that organized the rescue.” He reached into his pocket. “I’ve got something for you.”

“Wait.” I placed a hand over his, then shifted my gaze toward the restaurant, where the others partook of vodka. I should have joined them for a shot before taking on this sudden serious sharing of feelings. “I thought a lot about our past while trapped here this weekend. And about my family. I saw firsthand what can happen when a family is ripped apart by tragic circumstances.”

“Sugar, what Mike suffered is different from our family feud. He allowed a real darkness to eat at him if he was willing to commit homicide.” Luke grasped my hand and brought it to his lips.

“I want to be with you. But silly or not, I can’t choose between you and my family. Grandpa, Casey, and Cody are my only blood. I’ve got to respect and honor their feelings.”

“And you’ve got those who have chosen to be in your lives, like your Uncle Will. Even Red and Todd.” Luke shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “And me.”

I kept my eyes on the paper so Luke couldn’t see the tears I tried to force back into my sockets. “What’s that?”

“An address.” He placed the slip in my hand, then crossed his arms and leaned against the truck. “Billy Branson’s address. I didn’t sleep last night either. Spent my free time searching the DMV and warrant databases.”

I unfolded the paper and read Luke’s scrawl. “What the hell? After all this time, Shawna’s daddy is in Georgia?” I glanced up. “What does this mean?”

“Billy Branson’s been in the state pen. Got out about a year ago.”

“Incarcerated? And now he’s out? Did JB Branson know this about his brother?”

Luke shrugged, but his eyes read yes.

“That son of a bitch. What about Shawna?”

“I’m not sure, but I’ve a feeling she’s had a hunch.”

“The Bransons have been blaming his disappearance on my mother and all this time Billy Branson’s been in prison?” Fury welled inside of me and I tasted a bit of the darkness that had pushed Mike Neeley beyond reason. “And you’re giving this information to me because why?”

“We’re going to clear up this situation of the disappearance of Billy Branson and Christy Ballard Tucker. I’m tired of the bullshit. This openly declares me on the side of the Ballards.” He grasped my hand and the paper crumpled between our clasped fingers. “I understand your commitment to your family. But, Cherry, you are mine, and I’m not waiting any longer.”

As he jerked me into his body, my soft frame melded to his hard planes. His finger slipped beneath my chin and tipped it up. My cornflower blues met his stormy gray
s.

“I only have the address. Haven’t had a chance to read his criminal record. You understand what I’m saying? Bringing Billy Branson back to Shawna may not have your desired effect. And there are other implications.”

“Implications about my momma.” I nodded and stretched onto my toes to kiss him.

Soft lips met mine, but he broke off the kiss before I wanted. “Think you can handle that?”

His concern was justified. We’d be ripping off an old bandage, exposing a wound that had never healed. Besides a hot mess of family feelings, the town would take issue with us for waking an ugly dog that had slept for nearly twenty years. Luke and I would be destroying lines once clearly drawn in the old feud. Local folks needed to know where to stand.

Then there was sweet and loyal Todd to consider. Buckshot had done well as a replacement, but Todd had been my longstanding companion. If I sided with Luke on this venture, what would it do to poor Todd? As a staunch Tucker ally in the war with the Bransons, my secret romance had already threatened to divide his loyalties. This might kill our friendship.

But despite a weekend of death and misery, my heart had not given up on hope. Not on Todd. Or family forgiveness. Or happy endings.

“If you’re with me, I can do this,” I whispered to Luke. “Bring it on.”