Deadly Double-Cross
Autor:in
Lena Diaz
Gelesen
17,9K
Kapitel
23
Chapter One
Mason Ford vowed to pay more attention next year when his assistant chose the date for the companyâs fall hayride, because it was incredibly difficult acting the benevolent boss on the anniversary of his brotherâs unsolved murder.
Then again, maybe having the hayride this morning was a good thing. A new, happy memory to help dull a horrific one.
Heâd forgotten the charm and beauty of the eight-mile arts and crafts loop just east of Gatlinburg, Tennessee. And it certainly wasnât a hardship admiring the colorful fall leaves as a pair of enormous draft horses pulled the eighteen-foot wagon through the Smoky Mountains. It was the exact opposite of his Louisiana hometownâs evergreens, swamps and bayous without a mountain in sight.
Moving here, escaping the daily reminders of his old life, was the only thing that had kept him sane through the years. Well, that, and being able to hire others like him, men and women whose law enforcement careers had been destroyed through no fault of their own. Being a Justice Seeker gave all of them a chance at redemption and an opportunity to continue their true callingâhelping others.
The modern-day Camelot heâd created investigated crimes and protected others, with one important distinction from their law enforcement counterparts. The twelve Seekers who worked for him, his Knights of the Round Table, would bend or break the law if necessary to keep someone safe. It was infinitely preferable to prevent a murder than to hunt down an offender after theyâd violated a useless restraining order and killed someone. The Seekers sometimes played fast and loose with the law. But Masonâs team helped their allies in law enforcement so much that they were usually willing to turn a blind eye.
The enormous success of his company was bittersweet since it owed its existence to his older brotherâs death. Mason had been the chief of police in his hometown of Beauchamp, Louisiana, when Landon was framed and convicted with blinding speed, then killed in prison while Mason was scrambling to exonerate him. It was his subsequent civil suit against the corrupt town leaders whoâd been instrumental in his brotherâs sham of a conviction that had given him the millions to start his company. But heâd give up all his wealth, without hesitation, if it would bring Landon back.
Since that wasnât possible, heâd done the only thing he could to honor his memory. Heâd secretly continued the investigation on his own, trying to figure out the identity of that one last person behind the conspiracy that had resulted in his brotherâs conviction and murder. But justice was proving to be frustratingly elusive. Which was why heâd soon head home for his annual appointment with a bottle of Jack Danielâs to grieve for his brother in private and curse his own failure to solve the riddle of Landonâs death.
A burst of laughter sounded from the far end of the wagon. Former FBI profiler, Bryson Anton, was laughing at something his fiancĂ©e, Teagan, had said. Beside them, former secret service agent, Gage BishopâMasonâs closest friend and the very first Seeker heâd ever hiredâgrinned at his girlfriend, Harper. It was truly amazing to see Bishop looking so happy these days. Harper was exactly what the normally morose Bishop needed, a balm to his battered soul. It was a balm to Masonâs as well, seeing how much his team seemed to be enjoying the outing.
Except, perhaps, the newest member of The Justice Seekers.
Eli Dupree sat by himself a couple of hay bales away from Mason, splitting his time between watching the scenery and surreptitiously glancing at the other Seekers. He was relatively new to Gatlinburg, having arrived only a few months ago. A former police officer and Louisianan, like Mason, Eli had been the victim of a crooked conspiracy in Baton Rouge. But unlike Mason, he hadnât been able to turn his misfortune into something good and had struggled to make ends meet.
Mason considered himself fortunate that Eli had looked him up and asked for a job. The timing was perfect, since Mason had been searching for a suitable replacement for their fallen Seeker, Seth Knox. And Mason was thrilled to help someone from his home state. He just hoped Eli would learn to appreciate Tennessee the way Mason did, and that heâd eventually fit in with the rest of the team.
When the wagon slowed and made the final turn off Highway 321 into the Family Dollar storeâs parking lot, where theyâd all parked their personal vehicles earlier, Eli motioned toward Masonâs black BMW. âLooks like someoneâs waiting for you.â
A familiar red convertible was parked in the spot beside his with an even more familiar-looking platinum blonde standing between the two cars. Mason let out a deep sigh. Why had she chosen today, of all days, to show up again? It had been a couple of years since the last time sheâd made the long trip here in her ongoing campaign to win him back. Plus, heâd heard sheâd gotten engaged again. Apparently it had been too optimistic on his part to assume that would mean sheâd finally stop what could only be called harassment.
A shadow fell across him. He looked up to see Bishop in full former secret service agent mode, dark sunglasses in place, pistol bulging beneath his light jacket, a deadly serious look on his face. âI can take care of this. Just say the word.â
Dalton Lynch, a former policeman from Montana, stepped beside him, straightening the black Stetson he was never without. âNeed me to block Guinevereâs car while you make your getaway?â
Bishop gave Dalton a warning look over the top of his shades. âIâve got this, cowboy.â
Dalton bumped his shoulder against Bishop.
Bishop held his ground and returned the gesture, his frown growing fierce.
Dalton grinned, not at all intimidated.
A few feet away, Eli glanced back and forth between them. âGuinevere?â
Mason narrowed his eyes at Dalton, before answering. âHer name is Audrey Broussard. Years ago, many years ago, we were engaged.â
âLancelot must have frozen her credit cards,â Dalton said. âNo offense to your charms, boss, but I can give you several million reasons why she wants to be on your arm again.â
Eliâs look of curiosity turned to confusion. âLancelot? Wait, didnât he sleep with Guinevere behind King Arthurâs back?â
Dalton had the grace to wince before his expression sobered. âLet Bishop and me take care of this, boss. You donât even have to talk to her.â
Masonâs throat tightened when he realized the rest of his team had silently moved to stand behind Dalton and Bishop, letting him know they were there to support him, as well. Except for Bishop, none of the Seekers knew the details about what had happened in his hometown years ago. But all of them were making it clear whose side they were on.
He had to clear his throat, twice, before trusting his voice enough to speak. âI couldnât ask for a better team. Youâre always there for me and each other. But this...this is something I have to take care of myself.â
They stepped back so he could make his way down the center aisle through the hay bales and dismount from the wagon. But before heading to his impatient-looking former fiancée, he turned around to address his employees. No, his family. His chosen family, rather than the one he was born into. He cherished every single one of them.
âI hope you all had a great time. Enjoy the Fall Festival in town today and Sunday. As a bonus, take Monday off, with pay. The last thing I need is a bunch of hungover gun-toting yahoos dragging into the office after partying hard all weekend.â
Their cheers gave him the strength he needed to face whatever Audrey was about to dish out. When he reached his car, he nodded in greeting and leaned against his driverâs door. âAudrey.â
She mimicked his pose, leaning against the passenger side of her sports car. âMason. Still wearing business suits everywhere, I see. Even on a hayride.â Her red lips curved in a practiced smile.
âImage is everything.â He returned her smile, taking in her stilettos and silky black dress that couldnât come close to keeping her warm. The early morning temp this time of year, this high up in the mountains, was probably hovering around fifty degrees, if that. Heâd offer her his suit jacket, but he could see a fur coat draped over the passenger seat through the window behind her. Sheâd obviously chosen to go for looks, instead of warmth. And she did look good, always had. Even in grade school sheâd been the prettiest girl on the playground.
âYouâre as beautiful as ever.â On closer inspection, though, there were dark circles under her eyes that her makeup failed to completely conceal. And she seemed tired, pale. Even her hair seemed to lack the luster it usually had. Since heâd never seen her looking anything less than perfect, he couldnât help wondering if something was wrong. âIs everything all right? Do you feel okay?â
Her cornflower blue eyes widened and she self-consciously patted her hair. âIâm fine. Why do you ask?â
She was probably just tired after the twelve-plus-hour drive from Beauchamp to Gatlinburg. Maybe sheâd driven through the night to get here and hadnât stopped at a hotel yet to rest. âNo reason. Just small talk.â He shifted against the car and crossed his arms. âI heard you and Thibodeaux got engaged. Congratulations.â
âIf thatâs what your baby sister told you in those gossip sessions over the phone, then sheâs either out of touch with the local grapevine or just being mean. Richard and I broke up a few months ago.â She tilted her chin defiantly.
âOlivia doesnât have a mean bone in her body. But itâs been a while since our last phone call, so I didnât realize your status had changed. Iâm sorry that things didnât work out between you and Richard.â
And he was. Even though Audrey had destroyed the friendship between Mason and Richard Thibodeaux, Mason sympathized with her over losing him. It had taken her years to get him to give her a ring. With him gone, there werenât many more prospects left in the small town of Beauchamp, since her main preferred qualification in a relationship was money, or at least the prospect of decent future earnings.
She shrugged, pretending it didnât matter. âHe moved to Texas. The man I left you for has now left me. That probably makes you happy, doesnât it? Poetic justice?â
âNo, it doesnât. You deserve to find that special someone just as much as anyone else. I assumed that person was Richard. Iâm sorry that it wasnât.â
She stared at him a long moment, before blinking back the suspicious moisture in her eyes. âHe was always my second choice.â
âAudrey, donât.â
âI mean it, Mason. You and I were good together. Really good. Give me another chance. Give us another chance. Forgive my one little mistake.â
âSleeping with my best friend, then throwing your engagement ring in my face in the middle of the town square isnât what I call one little mistake.â
âIt was only the one time. I turned to Richard for comfort. I was upset at you for filing that silly lawsuit. You sued half my friends. No one would talk to me anymore.â
âI may have been a lovesick fool back then, but I wasnât blind. We both know it was more than once, with more than one guy.â
Her face turned a bright pink.
âAs to the silly lawsuit,â he continued, âit was the only way I could obtain any kind of justice for Landonâs death. Those so-called friends of yours helped conceal and falsify evidence. If it wasnât for them, my brother wouldnât have been convicted, sent to prison and slaughtered before I could prove his innocence. The infidelity I could forgive. You supporting the people responsible for my brotherâs murder? That, I can never forgive.â
Her eyes flashed with anger. âItâs so easy for you to judge me. Saint Mason can do no wrong, always better than anyone else. Maybe someone should judge you for a change, make you pay for what youâve done to others.â
Her lightning-quick mood swing surprised him, but no more than what sheâd said. Other than bringing criminals to justice, heâd always tried to treat others with respect, especially Audrey. No matter what had happened between them, heâd loved her once, had planned to spend the rest of his life with her. Part of him would always care about her. âIâm not sure what youâre talking about. What do you think Iâve done?â
She opened her mouth as if to say something, then seemed to think better of it. When she regained control, she drew a steadying breath. âObviously, coming here was a mistake. I shouldnât have wasted my time thinking youâd soften toward me. You probably never loved me in the first place.â
Heâd loved her too much. That was his downfall. His mind had known the relationship was doomed long before his heart would accept the painful truth.
âWhy are you really here? Especially today.â
She arched a brow. âWhatâs special about today?â
Her tone told him what she refused to admit. She knew the significance of the date and must have chosen it hoping heâd be more vulnerable, maybe more amenable to whatever it was that she wanted. âDid you come here for money? Have you burned through what I gave you after I won the civil suit?â
Her face pinkened again. âItâs been seven years since the lawsuit. If I had spent it all in that long a time, Iâd hardly qualify it as burning through the money.â
Since heâd given her close to a million dollars, he wasnât sure that he agreed. âHow much do you need?â
She stared at him incredulously. âAre you seriously offering to pay me off?â
âItâs not a payoff. Itâs an offer to help. If youâre in financial trouble, Iâm happy to give you some money. As a friend, nothing more. But after this, Iâm done. Itâs not fair to either of us for you to keep coming up here. You should go home and never come back.â
âNever come back.â She gave him a tight smile. âCareful what you wish for.â
He frowned. âWhatâs going on in Beauchamp? Is someone bothering you? Do you need help?â
She clutched her keys in her hand and rounded her car to the driverâs side. âIf you think Iâm here to hire The Justice Seekers, youâve lost your mind. Your little companyâs a joke back home.â
âA joke, huh?â
She gave him a mutinous glare.
He considered telling her his little company grossed over ten million dollars, in a bad year, and that his investments generated far more than that. It was true that half of his clients either paid little or no money, because they couldnât afford his usual fees. The Seekers never turned someone away based on finances if they had a legitimate, urgent need and Mason felt his company could help them. But the rest of their clients more than made up for that financial gap.
Wealthy businessmen were willing to pay a small fortune to protect their assets or to quietly resolve problems involving their families. Not to mention the lucrative hostage rescues the Seekers performed for corporations who didnât want the public to know their CEOs had been taken captive on a trip out of the country. They couldnât risk having their stock tank on that news. Business for the Seekers was good. More than good. But telling her that would only sound like bragging.
It didnât matter anyway. His hometown was no fan of him, no matter what he accomplished in life. The feeling was mutual. The secret trips he made to Beauchamp twice a year under the guise of vacations were just thatâsecret. Even his own family didnât know he was there, since none of them were willing to risk being seen with him any more than Audrey was, once heâd filed that lawsuit.
No one in Beauchamp ever saw past his alias and the movie-set-worthy disguise heâd paid a small fortune to obtain. Which was exactly what he wanted. He wasnât there for socializing. He went there to work on his brotherâs case, not that heâd made any real progress. It was taking far too long to get the locals to trust a supposed businessman on vacation twice a year and open up about anything theyâd seen or knew. One of these days heâd have to put his life on hold and spend a couple of months in Beauchamp to really dig into the case. Maybe then heâd finally get justice for Landon.
âIf youâre not here for money, then why are you here? We both know youâre not really pining for me. Not after all this time. Whatâs going on?â
Again, she looked like she wanted to say something important, but she just shook her head. Without another word, she got into her car.
Mason had to jump back to avoid having his feet run over by her tires. He watched her tear out of the parking lot, going dangerously fast around a curve in the mountain road before disappearing from sight.
He stood there a long time, reflecting on their oddly short and bizarre conversation. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldnât make sense of it. Her past visits had been far less confrontational. Theyâd usually go to dinner, take a walk in the mountains, talk about old timesâthe good ones, before everything went bad. But no matter what he said or did, these trips of hers always ended the same wayâwith her storming off. If he lived to be a hundred, he didnât think heâd ever understand her. Which was a sad statement, considering theyâd known each other for several decades.
Half an hour later he was standing at his kitchen sink, holding a shot glass of whiskey. Before taking a sip, he made the same toast heâd made on every anniversary of his brotherâs death. âLandon, I promise Iâll never stop trying to find out who really killed Mandy DuBois. I vow to get justice for you, and for our family. Rest in peace, big brother.â He tossed the shot down, grimacing at the burn. But he knew from experience the next one would go down easier, and the next after that. The more drunk he got, the better the whiskey tasted.
He was reaching for the bottle to take it to the family room when a floorboard creaked behind him. He jerked to the side, grabbing his gun from its holster. A masked man dived at him, tackling him to the ground. Mason arched off the floor, bucking the man off even as other masked intruders swarmed into the room. He swung his pistol around and squeezed the trigger.
Pop, pop, pop.
One of the men dropped to the floor, groaning.
âSuck it up, Hank,â another man yelled. âYouâve got a vest on, you wuss.â
Mason lunged to his feet.
Someone slammed into his back, knocking him to the floor again. There were five of them, all wearing masks.
âGrab his arms, Gary. Good grief. Heâs just one man. Guys, help him.â
Mason rolled and swung his gun around, but the one named Gary crashed down on his arm, knocking the gun away.
The rest threw themselves on his legs, his other arm, his ribs.
Mason bucked and thrashed, desperately trying to throw them off.
âSit on his back, sit on his back! Hank, quit rolling around on the floor. Get the syringe. Hurry!â
One of the men slammed Masonâs jaw against the floor. A coppery taste filled his mouth.
âDo it!â one of them yelled again. âHurry up.â
A sharp pain pierced the side of Masonâs neck. He tried to jerk his head back but the weight of all the bodies on him was too much. A heaviness flooded his limbs. Theyâd drugged him. He tried to twist away but he couldnât seem to make his body obey his commands. He slumped against the floor, his muscles twitching, useless. His lungs seized as he gasped for breath, trying to draw in much-needed oxygen. Spots swam in front of his eyes.
âGood gravy, how much did you give him? We donât want to kill him. She wants him alive.â
She? Were they talking about Audrey? Had the conversation in the parking lot been a test that heâd failed, and sheâd sent these thugs to teach him some sort of lesson? Heâd never known her to be violent in the past. Maybe this was related to his company, revenge because the Seekers had helped the police put someoneâs family member in prison.
He struggled to keep his eyes open, to fight back. But his strength melted away like ice on a hot road in summer. His eyelids fluttered closed and he surrendered to the darkness.
