Ripple of Secrets: Rose Gardner Mystery Novella #6.5 (Rose Gardner series Book 3) Read online

  Kate stopped behind me, standing on her tiptoes so that her mouth barely reached my shoulder. She whispered, “You and I need to chat later.”

  I glanced down at her in surprise. When she left two years ago, she’d made it clear that she was through with me and the entire Simmons mess. I couldn’t help but wonder what she’d heard—and from whom—to incite her return. I planned to find out.

  My parents sat on either end of the table, with me and Hilary on one side and Kate and the Wilders on the other. Kate sat directly in front of me, and both of us were positioned at the end of the table next to our father. No doubt the seating had been planned strategically, as my mother was unable to control herself around my unconventional sister.

  The conversation was stilted during the first two courses, while everyone waited for the ticking time bomb that sat across from me to explode. But Kate surprisingly kept most of her snide comments to herself.

  Everyone ignored her for the most part, but I finally asked her the question I’d been dying to have answered. “Kate, where’ve you been for the last two years?”

  Mom glanced at Hilary’s parents, then shot me a glare. “Joe, I’m sure the Wilders don’t want to hear about Katherine’s exploits.”

  I grinned at my sister. “Oh, I’m not so sure about that. They’ll probably be entertained.”

  “I could go into all the drugs and booze and men…” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, the men.”

  I laughed. How could I have forgotten her sense of humor and flair for drama? It was entertaining as long as it wasn’t directed at me.

  Hilary cringed, her hand tightening around her butter knife enough to slightly lift it off the table.

  I cast her a curious glance. Was Hilary capable of violence? She’d been in the Arkansas State Police with me, but her position had mostly been a desk job. Though she’d carried a gun, it had never been used in the line of duty. Still, the looks she was shooting my sister made me wonder.

  “Maybe you should leave out those particular exploits,” I said with a wink.

  “Then that hardly leaves me anything to tell.” Kate held up her wine glass, swirling the liquid before inhaling the scent and taking a sip. Her outward appearance was a sharp contrast to her actions now. In fact, it was a sharp contrast to her upbringing. The art of acting proper while attending a dinner party had been pounded into us before we even started middle school. Kate had been raised in this world with me, but she’d thrown off the mantle and blazed her own trail. Looking at her now, I couldn’t tell if she was happy or not, but I was dying to know. I had to know if it was possible for me too.

  If Mason Deveraux succeeded in his fanatical quest to bring down my father, I would have the chance to truly be free. But like a man who was faced with the prospect of freedom after spending his life in prison, I found myself unsure of what I really wanted. Had Kate figured that puzzle out for herself?

  When we were served pie and coffee, Kate decided it was time to turn her attention to the woman beside me.

  “So, Hils. Whatcha up to these days?”

  Hilary’s fork continued its sideways slice through the pecan pie on her plate. She scooped the bite onto the tines, then glanced at my sister. “I’ve taken a leave of absence from the state police.”

  “Because you’re pregnant?” Kate’s voice was deceptively vacant of emotion.

  “Yes.” Hilary lifted her fork to her mouth, her hand tightly gripping the handle.

  Kate leaned her elbows on the table, tilting closer to Hilary. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard or not, but it’s the twenty-first century. Pregnant woman are allowed to go out in public and have jobs up until the time they deliver.”

  “Katherine,” our mother interrupted. “Hilary worked for the state police. She couldn’t very well put the next Simmons heir in danger.”

  Kate sat back in her chair, shaking her head in disgust. “There are so many things wrong with that statement. For one thing, Hilary basically had a desk job.”

  But how did Kate know that? Hilary had only started her new position with the state police a few months before my sister took off.

  Hilary set her fork down and lifted her finely waxed eyebrows. “I was at a big bust in Henryetta last June. We took down a criminal mastermind.”

  “The way I heard it, you only became involved because you found out Joe had met someone.” She turned and looked at me. “Is that true, Joe? Did you meet someone in Henryetta, Arkansas?”

  How did Kate know so much about our lives, particularly since we knew next to nothing about hers? But that question ranked lower on my priority list than my resolve never to discuss Rose at this table again. I gave my sister a menacing glare. “Not now, Kate,” I said through gritted teeth.

  She appraised me for a second before glancing away, seeming to recognize she’d pushed too far. It was like she was sending out feelers, seeing what was and wasn’t acceptable to me, although she didn’t seem to care about establishing that boundary with anyone else.

  Turning away from me, Kate returned her attention to Hilary, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “What exactly have you done in Henryetta besides screw up the report of what happened in the Crocker bust?”

  Screw up the report? And how did she know about Daniel Crocker, and why? I shifted in my seat. “What are you talking about?”

  But Kate ignored me as the two women embarked on a staring contest. “Hilary knows exactly what I’m talking about. We both know why she was in Henryetta in June and what her real purpose was.”

  Mom’s face reddened. “Katherine, I won’t allow you to destroy Christmas dinner for our guests.”

  Vanessa looked down at her plate, but irritation crept over Ed’s face. Surprisingly, my father merely observed it all.

  “Guests.” Kate laughed. “Please. Besides, you have to admit things have been drop-dead boring since I left.” She took a sip of her wine, keeping her gaze on Hilary. “But you still didn’t answer my original question. What are you up to these days besides incubating the Simmons heir?”

  Hilary lifted her chin. “I was helping Joe with his campaign for state senate.”

  “Yeah, I heard that didn’t go so well. Except for your little souvenir.” Kate uncurled her index finger from her wine glass and pointed at Hilary’s stomach. “But that was almost two months ago. What are you doing now?”

  Hilary’s cheeks went pink. “I’m living in Henryetta.”

  “With Joe?”

  Hilary’s forehead wrinkled. “No.”

  Kate chuckled, then said in wonderment, “Hilary Wilder living in Henryetta, Arkansas. Is this some type of community service project?”

  “Katherine,” Mom said with more force. “That is enough.”

  Kate kept any more questions to herself, but we both knew her goal had been achieved. My sister may have been gone two years, but it had taken her hardly any time at all to pick up her favorite pastime: tormenting Hilary.

  Mom cleared her throat. “Why don’t we adjourn to the living room to exchange gifts?”

  She ushered us back into the living room so she could pass out presents. It was a ridiculous waste of time and money. We gave each other the same gifts every year. I made a charitable contribution in my parents’ name to the American Heart Association in honor of my grandfather. My parents gave me several dress shirts. Then there were several insignificant yet expensive gifts for the Wilders, Hilary included. While there weren’t any gifts for Kate—which she found amusing—there were a slew of presents for Hilary’s baby.

  Hilary’s baby.

  It was funny how much trouble I had acknowledging it was mine. I hoped I could somehow find it in me to love him or her despite the way I felt about the mother. But I figured I still had seven or so months to sort out my feelings.

  Hilary opened boxes of expensive baby clothes, knit blankets, and even a silver rattle. As soon as she opened the last present, I decided I’d fulfilled my responsibility. I looked at my phone and stood. “Well, this has
been fun as always, but I need to get back to Fenton County for my shift. Kate, could you walk me out?”

  “Leave? That’s ridiculous,” my mother said, a scowl deepening the crow’s feet around her eyes. “It’s Christmas, Joe. You should use your elevated position to your advantage.”

  I gave her a wry smile. “While that seems to be the Simmons way, I’ve decided to take a different tactic.”

  Kate studied me as though she was trying to figure me out, but I didn’t have time to say anything to her because Dad said, “Hold on, Joe. I need to talk to you before you go.” He stood. “In the office.”

  My heart thudded against my ribcage. Why would he want to talk to me alone? This couldn’t be good news, and I was terrified it either had something to do with Rose or—worse and much more likely—Mason’s continued pursuit for incriminating evidence against my father.

  Hilary looked up at me with a pretty pout. “I was hoping we could drive back to Henryetta together.”

  I shook my head and gave her a glare that let her know I thought she was crazy. “But we drove up in separate cars. How would you get yours back to Henryetta?”

  She sighed. “Well, will you at least take some of the baby’s gifts back with you? I’m not sure they’ll all fit in my car.”

  I wasn’t sure why she wanted to take them back at all. Our parents were sure to coerce her to move back to El Dorado when her plans to strong-arm me into marrying her fell through. But if agreeing got me out of my parents’ house faster, I’d do it, even if it meant I’d have to see her sooner than I’d like in Henryetta. “Fine. But have Gerald put them in my car now. As soon as I’m done talking to Dad, I’m out of here.”

  Dad headed to the office and I followed on his heels. The familiar arrangement put me in mind of dozens of memories, none of them pleasant. When I was a kid, the walk to my father’s office—always behind him—had always filled me with terror, and this time wasn’t any different. The stakes were so much higher than they’d ever been.

  He walked through the threshold and—without looking back—said, “Shut the door behind you.” His instruction was unnecessary and we both knew it, just as we both knew he was saying it to let me know I was on his turf and he was in total control.

  He moved behind his desk and sat in the creaky leather chair. “Take a seat, Joe. We have a few things to discuss.”

  I sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, trying to keep my gaze from the whiskey decanter on the table against the wall. If ever I needed a drink, it was now, but I put both hands on the chair’s arms and stared at him with a look of studied indifference.

  He waited for several seconds in an effort to make me squirm, but I managed to wait him out without reacting.

  “Do you know where Mason Deveraux was last week?” he finally asked.

  I blinked in surprise. That was probably the last question I expected. “Do I look like Mason Deveraux’s keeper?”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  I shrugged away my confusion. “How should I know? He doesn’t clear his schedule with me.”

  “You’re telling me that the chief deputy sheriff didn’t know the ADA was out of pocket for three days?”

  How close of tabs did he keep on Deveraux? “I knew he took several days off, but he’d just been in a car accident. Not to mention the fact that he nearly died in a fire the night of that big strip club bust. I didn’t think anything of it.”

  “He was in Little Rock.”

  I tried to hide my surprise. “So? His mother just sold her home there and moved to Henryetta. Maybe he was in town to tie up the loose ends.”

  “He was in the offices of the state capitol.”

  “Why don’t you stop beating around the bush and tell me what you think you know, since I obviously don’t know anything.”

  “I think he was there snooping on me.”

  I took a slow steady breath, trying to hide my sudden anxiety. Was my father right? It wouldn’t surprise me if that’s exactly what Deveraux had been doing, and if so, it had been smart of him not to tell me. “I think you’re paranoid. Why would he be snooping on you?”

  “He’s dating your old girlfriend. Does she know about the information I have on her?”

  That question caught me by surprise, although I wasn’t sure why. To tell him yes would put Deveraux in a dangerous place, but would my father really buy that I hadn’t told Rose anything? In the end, it was a moot point; my hesitation was all he needed to confirm his hunch.

  “Of course she’d tell her ADA boyfriend. The question is what he’s planning to do about it.”

  “You don’t know that. She was embarrassed by it.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Are you really going to sit there and tell me that she wouldn’t confide in the one man who would help her?”

  The one man who would help her. That statement stung more than he’d probably intended, but he was right. When I found out that my father had fabricated evidence suggesting Rose hired Daniel Crocker to murder her mother, I’d toed the line and run for office. My course of action after discovering the trap my father had set for Rose—a trap he could set off at any moment—was to wait him out. But Mason wasn’t that kind of man. My father knew it and so did Rose. Still, I’d warned Deveraux how dangerous his path was, and he’d rushed headlong down it anyway.

  Dammit.

  “Mason Deveraux is not a stupid man,” I said. “He knows how dangerous it would be to tangle with you. I’m sure he was in Little Rock on Fenton County business. He was just part of a sting operation for the county. Perhaps he was in Little Rock working on that.”

  “Deveraux needs to let sleeping dogs lie.”

  My eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”

  He paused, then smiled. “How’s your new position in the sheriff’s office working out?”

  My father never did anything without a purpose. So why was he asking about my job after mentioning Mason’s involvement in the sting operation? “It’s going great.”

  “You have the potential to make a name for yourself there.”

  I couldn’t help but wonder where this was going. “I seem to be settling in.”

  “That failed bust on Thanksgiving was a mark against you, but the one last week will definitely be an asset.”

  I wasn’t surprised he was keeping a score sheet.

  “The Fenton County sheriff is going to announce his retirement and you will run for his position.”

  My eyes widened. “You want me to stay in Fenton County? Mom wants me to move back to El Dorado.”

  His lips pressed together, showing his displeasure. “We all know who will win this disagreement.”

  While it stuck in my craw that my father was dictating yet another career move for me, the idea of running for sheriff actually felt right.

  “But there’s still too much turmoil in Fenton County. It needs to die down, or your race won’t be the shoo-in it should be.” He paused and placed both palms on his desk. “I want you to take care of the organized crime problem in town.”

  I shifted in my seat. “What do you think those last two big busts have been about?”

  “The new crime lord needs to disappear.”

  I gaped at him. “Skeeter Malcolm?” While it didn’t surprise me to hear that my father had been keeping tabs on the situation in Henryetta, I hadn’t expected him to show this much interest in the nitty-gritty details.

  “You need to listen carefully.” He paused to make sure he had my attention. “There are pieces in play that you don’t need to know about. In fact, considering your position, it’s best for you to stay in the dark. But it’s in everyone’s best interest for Mr. Malcolm to lose his crown.”

  My mind raced to connect the dots. “My job is to deal with the criminal elements in Henryetta. While it might look as though I’ve been unsuccessful, we were very close to apprehending the owner of the strip club last week. He’s become a major player in the crime world in my area. We have leads on where he might
be holed up.”

  “Back off on his apprehension.”

  I hesitated, trying to let his message sink in. Since when did my father concern himself with Fenton County matters? It was two counties away, and he’d always considered it a cesspool. “Why would I do that?”

  “He has his role to play, and so do you.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “You want me to let an alleged murderer escape?”

  “I expect you to do as I say.”

  “I’m not five years old, and this is much bigger than J.R. Simmons getting his way. This man is armed and dangerous. The citizens in my county won’t be safe until he’s apprehended.”

  “If Malcolm disappears, things will die down.”

  What exactly was my father proposing? “So essentially you’re telling me to let a murderer and thief get off scot-free so he can murder a man and become the next crime lord.”

  “While it sounds base, it’s important to look at the bigger picture, Joe.”

  Base. So he really wanted me to do it. He wanted me to allow this underworld criminal to kill Malcolm, then take over for him. But my previous undercover work served me well. I hid any sign of surprise, acting intrigued instead. “Which is?”

  He sat back in his chair. “Your job is to make the county feel safe.”

  “No,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm and even. “My job is to actually keep the citizens safe, not fabricate the illusion of safety.”

  “You will do as I say in this, Joseph.”

  “I need a reason.”

  “No, the only thing you need to know is that I want this matter left alone.”

  “So I’m supposed to tell my deputies to back off and let Mick Gentry get away. And then I just wait for him to take care of Malcolm?”

  “It’s as simple as that.”

  None of this made sense, not that I was actually planning to go through with it. Why would J.R. Simmons care about Skeeter Malcolm and Mick Gentry? The real question was what was in it for him? But if he had developed an interest in the crime world, perhaps Rose had been correct about suspecting his involvement in another matter. “What do you know about Deveraux’s car accident? Did you know it wasn’t an accident?”