“So, the Dixie
Mafia.” Dani sped down the highway, her voice pitched high with excitement. Jaymee’s ears rang. “I mean, part of me thinks we’re reaching into soap opera territory, but it would make sense. Whoever took him knew what they were doing.”
“Hopefully Cage will find something. Make sure you tell him about Penn’s information before you mention telling me about the case. He’ll be distracted with the ass chewing. You drive too fast.” Jaymee clutched her seatbelt as Dani whipped down the curvy highway. Between her nerves and the dangerous ride, she barely clung to sanity. The scenery rushed by, shimmering and then shadow, there and gone.
“You all drive too slow,” Dani said. “That’s the one thing I can’t get used to down here. Your pacing is worse than a snail’s.”
She rapidly approached a large, green pickup with Adams County plates. Jaymee recognized it at once. “Huh. What’s Dylan doing out of town?”
“Dylan Asher?”
“Yeah, slow down, for Christ’s sake. Stop tailgating.”
Dani grumbled but slowed her pace. “Why shouldn’t he be out of town?”
“He stopped by this morning to check on Magnolia. Ashland was hit, and you know how he is about that house. He’s worse than you are with Ironwood.”
“Doubtful.”
“Trust me. Anyway, it was odd enough he was checking out town damage instead of obsessing over the plantation. Now he’s out of town.”
“Maybe he needed something in Fayette. It is the nearest town with any kind of stores.”
“Roselea has stores. And Dylan’s the mayor’s son. He makes it a point to shop local.”
The vehicle’s windows weren’t tinted, and Jaymee saw Dylan talking animatedly on his phone. He swerved, the tires skimming the gravel, and then cut back onto the pavement.
“Jesus,” Dani said. “And I’m the bad driver?”
A few miles later, Dylan took the turn for White Creek Road towards Ironwood. “Must be checking on Oak Lynn,” Dani said.
Jaymee didn’t think so. For some reason, her gut told her Dylan wasn’t out on a social call. “We’ll see.”
Sunlight peeked through the clouds, shining off the hood of Dani’s truck, and Dylan’s gaze shot to the rearview mirror. Dani kept a safe distance, but he’d noticed them. A mile later, the thicket of trees cleared to reveal Ironwood’s dirt drive.
Yesterday, Dani had lugged the mailbox to the side of the road, leaving it in three chunks of busted wood. Dylan hit the brakes hard, turning into the long driveway.
“Oh shit,” Dani said. “I hope he’s not planning on nagging me about the Heritage Tour again. The house isn’t ready.”
A note of warning rang in Jaymee’s head as Dylan jumped out of the truck. His smile seemed too wide, posture too stiff. He waved, the lines around his eyes taut.
“Hey there.” Dani greeted him. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Well, I was in the neighborhood and saw you ladies. Thought I’d see how things were going. Any news on Nick?”
“No,” Jaymee said. “Dani and I were just following a lead.”
“Where to?”
Jaymee debated. Something about the controlled tone of Dylan’s voice bothered her. But a person never got information without giving something up. “I needed to get outside, and I wanted to tell Penn about Nick in person. So we paid him a visit at the Delta Correctional Facility.”
“Is that where he’s at?” Dylan looked past her, towards the house, as if he were studying it. Not that she blamed him. Maybe it was because of the house’s newly uncovered history, but Ironwood had an aura all its own, as if it were a living entity. “I didn’t realize you two had contact. But that’s good. He’s a good man. I don’t suppose he’d heard of anything that might help?”
“Not really,” Jaymee lied. Why would Dylan assume Penn would know something about Nick missing? Beside her, Dani coughed but didn’t say anything. “I just needed to do something.”
“I understand.” Dylan toed the dirt with his shoe. Jaymee noticed his usually clean sneaker had a fine layer of red dirt over it.
“What about you?” Jaymee said. “I figured you’d be at Ashland cleaning up. Or in town. But it looked like you were coming from Fayette.”
Dylan’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. “Busted my shovel. Hardware in town was overrun.”
Dani casually made her way to the pickup and leaned on the side. “Looks like you’ve been doing some digging. Or plan to.”
“Yeah.” Dylan shuffled his feet again. Jaymee wanted to snap at him to stand still. “Actually, Dani, I wanted to talk to you about that. About the Semple property.”
“What about it?” Dani asked.
“You probably know there’s been a motion to halt the commercial zoning, and the city council is debating. They’re hearing all arguments in a couple of weeks.”
“I heard that’s part of the reason Joseph Stanley’s around,” Jaymee said. “Greasing the wheels.”
“It is,” Dylan said. “And my father, top-notch citizen that he is, is all for it. He thinks the destruction of history is good for Roselea.” He practically spit out the words, eyes flashing behind his stylish glasses.
“But you disagree?” Dani said.
“I always have. I argued against it from the beginning when Norton Investment first started seeking support. I was part of the group that tried to save the land before Norton bought it.”
“So what do you need me for?” Dani asked.
“I can’t go onto Semple property from the usual route. If what I’m doing gets back to my father, he’ll have my head, and I won’t have the chance to make a difference.”
“What are you planning to do?” Jaymee asked.
“I want to prospect the land. See if I can find anything that will make the city council say no to Norton.”
“The foundations of the buildings should have been enough,” Dani said. “I know the structures Norton bulldozed weren’t the Semple’s first houses, but the foundations are original. And I thought the appeal to the city council was based on the connection to Ironwood and the Laurents?”
“It is, but we need proof from the Semple side. Something tangible. It’s not that they don’t believe it, but if we could find Semple family relics or even graves—it would go a long way in convincing the council.”
“So you’re wanting to access the land from my property?” Dani said.
“I know it’s asking a lot, but I won’t bother you, and I won’t drive on your property. I’ll walk back there.”
“How did the land ever get zoned commercial in the first place?” Jaymee said. “There are other properties with less that have been deemed too historic to mess with. Why wasn’t the Semple property?”
“It’s because there’s money in the land, and someone powerful pushed it through.” Dylan’s eyes narrowed, his nose flared. “But that doesn’t matter right now. If I can find something, we might be able to save it.”
“That’s a big if,” Dani said. “With Joseph Stanley around, they’ve got to be putting pressure on the right people. This is politics. History doesn’t matter, or the property wouldn’t have been sold to a developer in the first place.”
“You have no idea,” Dylan said nastily. “But I can’t just sit back and keep my mouth shut anymore. I have to at least try.”
“You filed the appeal?” Jaymee guessed.
“Anonymously,” he said. “My father and I already have issues. I didn’t feel like giving him something new.”
“I can understand that.” Jaymee couldn’t put her finger on it, but Dylan’s attitude bothered her. She didn’t doubt his anger, and the issues between him and his father were common town gossip.
He stopped looking me in the eye when I asked about Fayette.
“You can have all the access you want,” Dani said. “I admire what you’re doing, but don’t get your hopes up. I’ve seen this happen too many times to expect any other outcome.”
“Thank you.” Dylan grabbed a shovel and a metal detector out of the truck, along with a dirty, black nylon bag. “I won’t be a bother, I promise.”
Dani pointed to the path along the west of the house. “You take that, you’ll go down to the creek. The Semple property is on the other side.”
Dylan hurried down the drive, loitering around Ironwood’s exterior. Jaymee knew he’d asked Dani several times to see the house’s hidden passage. So far, she’d refused. “I doubt he’ll find anything useful.”
“So why’d he lie?” Jaymee asked, staring at Dylan’s retreating back. Shoulders slumped and gait slow, he looked more like a man unwillingly going off to dig in the trenches instead of one happily fighting the good fight.
“About what?”
“He said his shovel broke, and he went to the hardware store in Fayette for a new one. Except the one he just pulled out of the truck was old and covered with the same red dirt that’s on his shoes. Which are normally pristine, by the way.”
“He’s probably already been digging without my permission.”
“But he lied about why he was in Fayette,” Jaymee said. “That bugs me. Dylan’s usually a straight-up guy. And why did he assume Penn would have information on Nick’s case? For all Dylan knows, Nick just decided to disappear.”
“I don’t have the answers. But we need to track down Cage and tell him what we know. If we do it in person, he’ll be less likely to yell at me for sharing information.”
NICK
W
hatever he gave
me is screwing with my memory. Or maybe it’s being confined in a dark room and robbed of most of my senses. I keep trying to remember what I’ve left behind, if anyone will be able to put the pieces together like I did.
Did Cage find what I left in the car? He’d think to look, surely. When Lana and I were first married, I’d told Cage that any time I had valuable information for a story, I stuck it underneath my driver’s seat. He’d laughed and told me to use the computer.
But that’s the first place people look. And when you’re trying to be the first to break news, you guard your secrets like a cheating spouse.
Why am I here again?
Oh yeah, because I didn’t tell a soul what I was up to, and now no one knows where to look. Or what to look for. Jaymee found the fakes in the chifforobe. If Cage finds my gift under the seat, they’ll start in the right direction. But I don’t think they’ll see the turn in the road until it’s too late.
Maybe I can talk to him. He brought me water earlier. Told me to drink. He’s not all bad. Maybe I can get him to see this is the worst mistake he can make.
JAYMEE
C
age met them
at the sheriff’s office. Bags under his eyes and terse replies told Jaymee he hadn’t had any sleep. He took one look at Dani’s sheepish smile and dropped the turkey club sandwich she’d brought him.
“You told Jaymee about the cartridge case, didn’t you?”
“I couldn’t
not
tell her,” Dani said. “She’s terrified and wants to help. You can’t expect her to sit around and do nothing.”
Cage glared at them both before going back to his sandwich. He took a huge bite and talked out of the free side of his mouth. “So what have you two been up to?”
“Well, a few things,” Dani started. Cage’s glare didn’t soften as she quickly recounted their afternoon. He finished his sandwich, wadded up the plastic wrap, and tossed it in the trash. Then he took a long drink out of a sweating paper cup. Finally, he sat back in his chair and unleashed.
“So, you two are reminded of this meth dealer who moonlights as an antiques fraud, and when you realize he’s in the same jail as Penn, you decide to make a social call. Have a girl’s outing to the prison.”
Jaymee bit back a retort. He knew she hated being called “girl,” which was exactly why he said it.
“That sums it up, yeah.” Dani grinned. She handed him the homemade brownie she’d snagged at Sallie’s.
Cage ignored it and gritted his teeth. “Why would you not call me first? Let me know you’re visiting a men’s correctional facility? Or even that you’re out of town?”
“It’s a private prison,” Jaymee said. “And we can handle ourselves just fine. Besides, you were busy with Joseph Stanley and the lead Lee gave you. And I had to do something, Cage. You know me better than that.”
His eyes softened, but he pointed a long finger at both of them. “You two need to stop going on adventures. You’re going to get yourselves in trouble one day.”
“We’ll deal with that if it happens,” Dani said. “So what do you think about the whole Dixie Mafia connection?”
“Yesterday I would have said it’s a stretch, but today, I don’t know. I’m still having trouble believing this was all over some fake relics, but whoever did this either was a professional or knew Nick. Hit him and then got him out of the car.” Cage ran a hand through his short hair, an annoying habit he’d had for as long as Jaymee had known him. “Without leaving any real trace. We’ve searched within a two-mile radius of where the car was found and haven’t turned up a damned thing.”
“What about Joseph Stanley?” Jaymee asked.
Cage hissed at her. “I never gave you that name. You just assumed—”
“He’s a slick one.” Gina entered the office. “And I see you two are playing amateur detectives. Foster, you need to stop giving out information.”
Cage looked sheepish.
“It’s my fault.” Jaymee said. “I’m a mess, and I’m a pushy broad. I bullied him until he caved.”
“He knows better.” Gina still looked pissed, but she let out a long sigh and sat down on the edge of Cage’s tiny desk. She crossed her feet at the ankles and then her arms over her chest. She looked more intimidating than any of the men in the department. “Shit gets around anyway, and you’re right, you are a pushy broad. Stanley says he gave Nick his card last month when he requested an interview about Norton Investment’s plans. Told him he’d set something up, but Nick never called. That’s the only interaction Stanley had with him. Plus, he’s alibied for last night. He was stuffing his face with wings at Pig’s and riding out the storm with the rest of the restaurant.”
“Do you believe him?” Dani asked.
“Doesn’t matter unless I break his alibi,” Gina said. “As for the interaction with Nick, I’ve got my reservations. This guy is big business smooth. Willingly came to the station and completely at ease in the interview room, which tells me he either believes he’s above the law, or he’s just naive. Gut tells me it’s the former.”