Thirty-Six and a Half Motives: Rose Gardner Mystery #9 (Rose Gardner Mystery Series) (22 page)

“Then there’s Hilary,” Neely Kate said.

My eyes narrowed as my anger blazed again. “What about her?”

“Kate told you they have a history.”

“Mason explained it to me.”

“
His
side. But what about hers?”

I jerked my hand from hers, so furious I was seeing red. “I am not falling for any of this. I know that man. He would
never
hurt me.”

“Rose,” Neely Kate said, her voice full of sympathy. “I never in a million years thought Ronnie capable of siding with people out to hurt you. Maybe you should try to be objective.”

“It would be a betrayal to even consider it, and I’ve betrayed him enough!”

Skeeter pushed Neely Kate aside and gave me a cold, hard stare. “No. You put you first. Above everything else.”

I returned his stare. “You’ve been puttin’ yourself first for thirty-nine years, Skeeter Malcolm. How’s that workin’ out for you?”

His nostrils flared, but he held my gaze. “I’m still alive, so I’d say it’s workin’ pretty well.”

Until me. But I couldn’t deal with that guilt. I already had enough on my plate.

I lifted my chin and said in defiance, “I know Mason. I trust him.”

He held my gaze, his jaw tight. “You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.”

I pushed his shoulder and walked past him. “And you like me that way. End of discussion.” I took a breath and shined my light on the opposite wall. “So presuming what we’re looking for is still here, where should we look? Because the obvious places have all been searched.”

Both remained silent for a good three seconds before Skeeter took a step into the middle of the room. “Let’s act as though it’s the first time it’s been searched.”

We’d been searching for fifteen minutes when I heard a loud groan of splitting wood. My mouth dropped open when I saw that Skeeter had ripped an empty tack cabinet off the wall with a crowbar.

“What on earth. . . ?” I gasped.

“Time to start lookin’ in the
non-
obvious places.” He’d tossed his jacket into the corner and was wearing a dark gray Henley that clung to his thick arms and wide chest.

His eyebrows rose in a challenge. “You got a problem with it?”

“No,” I said, with a hand on my hip. “I was thinking about remodeling anyway.”

If he caught my joke, he didn’t let on. Instead, he continued ripping off the cabinet to reveal the wood planks behind it.

I watched him for several seconds before Neely Kate flashed me a grin.
What on earth was she so happy about?

She pointed her thumb behind her. “I’m going to check the loft.”

My head was still spinning after their earlier confrontation. I’d told them my trust in Mason was unwavering, but a small part of me kept wondering if there was a kernel of truth to their accusations. And that made me feel so guilty I could hardly bear it.

I had to nip these stray thoughts in the bud.

Feeling like a traitor, I brushed my dirty hands on my jeans. “I’m going to the house to check on Muffy and get some bottles of water. I’ll be back.”

Skeeter gave me a sideways look of disgust. “You always dote on that dog this much?”

“Yes, not that it’s any of your business,” I said. My snotty response caught me off guard, but he’d helped plant these annoying seeds of doubt. I realized I was more than a little ticked at the both of them.

“Next thing you know, you’ll be carryin’ it around in your damn purse. Or in one of those baby carriers,” he grumbled, then ripped a cabinet clean off the wall. It occurred to me that he was pissed, too.

“What a great idea,” I sneered. “I think I’ll go order one online right now.” Then I flung the barn door open with more force than necessary. The door bounced off the wall, and I looked back to see Neely Kate’s stunned face peering over the edge of the loft.

If I’d had any notion of surprising Muffy, it was quickly dismissed. Her face was still peering out the window, and she started barking and jumping up on the window the moment she saw me. I slipped through the back door and scooped her up, nuzzling her head with my cheek.

“Mason would never betray us, would he, Muffy?”

She assured me he wouldn’t by licking my chin. Unfortunately, that didn’t quiet the whispers of doubt floating through my head.

Setting her down, I walked into Mason’s office and sat in his chair. My shaken faith was a betrayal, and what I was about to do was even worse. Never once since he’d moved into the farmhouse had I gone through his desk. I’d given him the room for his private, professional use, and I’d always respected that boundary. Honestly, I was surprised he hadn’t come back to clean it out. He’d come by the house to pick up some clothes, but those files were on his desk. And I suspected there were more in the drawers.

I had no idea what the contents held. Mason Deveraux could never be accused of being careless, so if they were criminal files, I knew they couldn’t be too serious. The best way to find out was to start looking.

Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the folder on top of the stack and opened. It contained a file on a sixteen-year-old boy who had shoplifted at Walmart. The teen was a repeat offender, but a cursory glance told me Mason had worked with the boy’s case worker to get him into an anger management class and community service rather than a youth detention center. The rest of the files on the desk were similar—minor crimes, often repeat offenders.

In each, there was evidence of Mason’s fair-mindedness. He’d offered smaller punishments in plea bargains to the offenders who complied with counseling and community service. He’d referred several defendants to Jonah’s support group.

I closed the last file and took a deep breath. This was not the behavior of a man hell-bent on revenge, let alone a man who’d use a woman he claimed to love. I had a choice—I either trusted Mason or I didn’t—and I had to choose right now.

I was following my heart.

With my decision made, I hurried into the kitchen and grabbed three bottles of water from the fridge. I was about to go out the back door when my phone rang. When I pulled it out of my pocket, I was surprised to see Neely Kate’s name on the caller ID.

The moment I answered, her breathless voice filled my ear.

“You need to get out here. We found something.”

I
dropped
the bottles on the table and ran out the back door, Muffy hot on my heels. I didn’t stop until I opened the door and found Neely Kate standing outside a horse stall. The cabinets on the other side of the room had been completely removed, but Skeeter was nowhere to be found.

She looked over at me with a horrified expression on her face.

“What did you find?”

“Do you have the key?” Skeeter called out, his voice muffled. I was pretty sure he was behind the horse stall.

For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why Neely Kate was so freaked out. We’d already turned the barn inside out. What could they have found? And, more importantly,
where
?

“Yeah.” I pulled it out of my front jeans pocket as I walked toward the stall. Muffy stayed at my feet, acting subdued. “What did you find?”

I rounded the corner and found Skeeter had ripped out the feed trough, which now lay on its side. “Are you seriously going to tear my barn apart?”

“Rose,” Neely Kate said, “he found something.”

“You already said that. Why don’t you look happier?”

“I found a trap door,” Skeeter said, reaching out his hand. “Let me try the key in the lock.”

I moved closer and realized he’d discovered a two-foot square door that was flush with the dirt, and which looked to be encased by concrete. The door had a deadbolt with a keyhole and a handle. There was a shallow hole next to the concrete box, but Skeeter’s body and the darkness obscured my view. Both the hole and the box looked to have been previously covered by the feed trough.

“This is a good thing, right?” I asked. “Why are you so freaked out?”

“Skeeter found something along with it.”

“What?”

“A body.”

I gasped and took a step back, turning my attention to Skeeter. “
What?
”

Skeeter grunted his impatience. “It looks like it’s been there for years. He’s not goin’ anywhere. We need to see what’s in the box. Give me the key.”

I handed it to him and tried to look around him into the hole. How could I have lived here—been in this barn multiple times—without knowing there was a dead body buried under the rusted tin trough?

“How’d you know to turn over the feed trough?” I asked, trying to catch my breath as my mind whirled. “It was bolted down.”

He looked up and winked, apparently unbothered by the fact that he was squatting next to a corpse. “A trick from the depression. People didn’t trust banks, so they hid their money in lots of hidey holes. My great-grandmother used to hide things under her feed trough along with a whole lot of other places. I suspect the trap door was already here, but this lock looks like it’s only twenty to thirty years old. The grave was probably dug at around the same time.”

I heard a pop of metal, and Skeeter grabbed the handle on the door and lifted. He peered inside and pulled out a soft covered journal, folded over on itself and wrapped up with leather strings.

“How many journals can a damn person have?” he grumbled.

“Maybe she was an aspiring writer,” Neely Kate mused. “Maybe she thought she could write a memoir.”

“Or maybe she wanted to keep me from knowing this seedy part,” I countered. “The journal I found in her drawer was all personal stuff, nothing about any of the mess she was in except for vague insinuations. The journal in shorthand looked to be dates and figures with text.”

“So what about this one?” Neely Kate asked.

Skeeter handed it to me. “Only one way to find out.”

I took it, glancing over his shoulder. I could see clothing, but it was partially covered by dirt. “What about the body?”

“You take a look in the book, and I’ll see what I can find out. The safe seemed more pressing.”

I nodded and unwrapped the cords with slightly shaky fingers. I had no idea what to expect.

Neely Kate moved next to me while I unfolded the book and opened the cover.

“It’s in regular English,” she said in surprise.

I was equally stunned but also relieved to see that the writing was in Dora’s script in legible English, not the shorthand of the other journal and the page in the safe.

I’ve become more and more suspicious of the things going on at Atchison Manufacturing. Before it was just me, but now I have my baby to protect. With that in mind, I plan to create a record of how J.R. Simmons was introduced to Henry Buchanan and what occurred afterward.

I have done so many things wrong. I am not blameless in any of this. But I hope to find redemption. For my baby.

“What does it say?” Skeeter asked as he shined his flashlight into the hole.

“I don’t know yet,” I said, flipping the page. “It’s a whole separate journal.”

“But this one reads like a book,” Neely Kate said. “See? I told you she might be an aspiring writer.”

She was right, about the reading like a book part anyway. The next page started like a story. I read out loud, “The first time I first met J.R. Simmons, I was mesmerized by his good looks and charm.”

Skeeter snorted. “He’s like the angel of light, Lucifer himself. Is there anything we can use?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m not even sure what to look for. Sure, we can give this journal to the state police, but that won’t help us tonight.”

“The Fenton County chief deputy sheriff took the other journal, and no one knows where it went,” he said. “You really think handing this one over is a good idea?”

He had a good point.

He leaned down into the hole, rooting around. “If this won’t help us, then we find something that does. Leverage.”

“Oh, my stars and garters,” Neely Kate moaned. “Are you touching that dead body?”

“Gotta find out who he was.” He rose to a squat with a wallet in his dirty hand. “Whoever buried him did a piss-poor job. They must have been in a hurry. Looks like they dug just deep enough to stuff him under the trough, then filled the cracks with dirt. But the body’s decomposed, so some of the dirt on the sides has fallen in on him.”

I cringed and swallowed my nausea.

“How do you know it’s a man?” Neely Kate asked, inching closer.

“His clothes. His hair.”

“Hair?” she screeched, moving next to the grave.

Skeeter shined the light into the hole. “See his hair? It’s short but dark, so he was probably young. He’s wearing men’s jeans and work boots. Look, see the blood on his shirt? I think he was shot.”

Neely Kate looked over his shoulder. “How do you know he wasn’t stabbed?”

“Because of the small holes in the cloth.”

“So he died from gunshot wounds to the gut?”

“No. I suspect he died from a bullet to the head. See the hole in his forehead?”

I shuddered. “How can you be discussing a man’s death so coldly?”

He glanced over at me. “He’s been dead for quite some time, Lady. I’m sure it’s not a coincidence he’s here next to the safe.” He opened the wallet. “Thaddeus Brooke. His license expired a year after the factory fire and Dora’s death, so if he died in that period of time, he was thirty-five. He lived in Henryetta, and based on his photo, he was plenty rough around the edges.”

“You think he was here in the barn looking for the book?” I asked.

“There’s a good chance. I think we need to do some diggin’ into poor Thaddeus while you skim the journal.”

He leaned over again and dug into the grave, pulling out a set of keys and a money clip. “You girls head into the house. I’ll be inside in a minute.”

“What are you gonna do?” Neely Kate asked.

“See if there’s anything underneath him. It’s bound to get messy.”

Neely Kate made a beeline for the door, and Muffy, who’d been so quiet at my feet that I’d nearly forgotten her, took off in a sprint after her.

I paused at the edge of the stall, suddenly feeling the weight of Skeeter’s discovery. “We’re gonna have to kill J.R., aren’t we?”

Skeeter had jumped into the shallow grave, but he looked up at me with a serious expression. “
You
won’t be killin’ anyone. I’ll take care of it.”

That should have made me feel better, but it only terrified me.

“What’s our endgame, James? We know J.R.’s plan is to torture and kill us. We’ve been on the defensive, trying to outwit him, but what’s our goal? It can’t just be survival. We have to best him, and the only way I know how to do that is to kill him, because as long as J.R. Simmons is drawing a breath, he’s a threat to everyone. So what’s our plan?” My voice broke, frustrating the hell out of me. This wasn’t the time to fall apart, but I couldn’t believe what I was suggesting. When had I crossed the line to condoning murder?

“You’re right. I have an endgame in mind, but I haven’t shared it because I’m sure you would never approve. I plan to show the bastard no mercy.”

“That’s murder.”

“Not if it’s in self-defense.”

“I suppose that’s how it’s goin’ to end anyway. The two of us starin’ down the barrel of his gun.”

He held my gaze for several seconds, then turned his attention to the grave. “Not if I can help it.”

I headed into the house to find that Neely Kate had started a pot of coffee and set the remains of one of Maeve’s lemon pound cakes on the table. I grabbed one of Mason’s empty legal pads, a pen, and my laptop, and sat down at the table with the journal.

“I think we should write down anything that looks important, then figure out how it might fit in.”

Neely Kate nodded. “How about you read and I’ll take notes?”

“Actually,” I said, opening the book, “why don’t you search the Internet for anything you can find about Thaddeus Brooke?”

We’d been at it for ten minutes before Skeeter walked in the back door, covered in dirt.

“You find anything?” Neely Kate asked.

“No.” He glanced at the book. “What about you?”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “I’ve found a host of things that will interest the state police, like the dates and times J.R. and Henry Buchanan met, but nothing that will help us tonight.”

Neely Kate looked up from the computer screen. “And I’ve been searching for anything I can find about Thaddeus Brooke, which isn’t much, so I’ve sent texts to a few friends at the courthouse to see what they can find.”

“Keep diggin’,” he said as he walked across the room. “I’m gonna take a shower. Jed should be here in a bit with a change of clothes.”

“He struck out at the barn, too?” Neely Kate asked.

“It doesn’t look too promising. He’ll tell us when he gets here. Is your shower upstairs?”

“Second door on the right,” Neely Kate said, giving me a worried look. Once we heard his footsteps on the stairs, she said, “So far we have a fat lot of nothing to help us for tonight. I think we need to try tracking down Anna and Bruce Wayne. If we can find Anna, we’ll find Bruce Wayne.”

I sighed. “You might be right, but it seems a little late for us to try findin’ her now. I wouldn’t even know where to look. That’s the reason we went this direction.”

“I think Hilary knows more. I texted Jonah, but apparently she wasn’t home when he stopped by her house. The question is what’s the connection between Anna and Hilary? You said Anna acted strange when Hilary walked into the shop.”

“Yeah, but Hilary didn’t seem to recognize her.”

Neely Kate was quiet for a moment. “Hilary was pretty upset over Roberta leaving. It was obvious from the way she acted earlier, and Joe even said as much. What if Hilary had something to do with it? What if Anna is here because of that?”

I shook my head. “That seems like a reach, but we don’t have
any
idea why she’s here.” I tapped my pen on the table and flipped the legal pad page over. “We’re gonna write down everything we know and try to tie it all together.”

“Good idea.” She grabbed the notebook and pen from me. “Let’s start with Kate. She disappeared from Little Rock two years ago, right around the time Roberta died in Memphis.”

“Yeah.”

“Then she says she went to California, but she dropped off the face of the earth when she left. She didn’t even tell Joe how to find her.”

“Right.”

“But we know she’d been keepin’ tabs on Mason since July—she has photos of him outside the courthouse with you and Joe.”

“Right.”

“She showed up in town right after Christmas. But why?”

I nodded my head. “Good question.”

She sighed. “Okay, let’s move on to Hilary. She showed up pregnant with Joe’s baby in November . . .”

I jumped in. “And Kate showed up a month later, eager for me to get back together with Joe.”

“Hilary and Kate seem to hate each other.”

I paused for a moment. “We know how Joe and Hilary felt about Roberta leaving, but what about Kate? How did she react?”

Neely Kate released a loud groan. “This seems pointless.” Tears filled her eyes. “That monster is going to hurt Bruce Wayne or worse. And we’re sitting here talkin’ about a housekeeper who worked for the Simmons family thirteen years ago!”

I stood and began to pace. “We know why J.R. is here—revenge against Skeeter. I’m collateral damage. And Mason . . . Why Mason?” I stopped and looked at her. “The fact that Mason’s name was on J.R.’s hit list proves he’s not involved.”

“Unless he’s on the list to throw you off.”

I shook my head and pulled out my phone. “This is ridiculous. Why would J.R. go to so much effort?”

“Because it would be quite the reveal at the showdown, wouldn’t it? I don’t want to believe that Mason’s part of this, but after Ronnie, I don’t trust anyone but you, Skeeter, and Jed. But think about it—Mason standing by J.R’s side. How much drama would that be? And you’ve said it before—J.R. Simmons loves a big show.”

I gaped at her. I couldn’t believe she would turn on Mason so easily. “You really believe Mason would do that?”

“Did I think Ronnie would be part of a plot to kill you? Hell, no.” She took a breath, then lowered her voice. “Look, I’m not saying Mason’s part of it. I don’t want to think he is. But you can’t ignore some of the red flags. Just like I’d ignored them with Ronnie.” When I started to protest, she held up her hand. “All I know is that we can’t trust
anyone
, Rose. Only each other.”

I could see why she’d say that. She’d been used and lied to for years, so in her eyes, this was just more of the same. But I had plenty of trouble believing either man was capable of such a thing.