Deadly Double-Cross
Auteur
Lena Diaz
Lezers
17,9K
Hoofdstukken
23
Chapter One
Mason Ford vowed to pay more attention next year when his assistant chose the date for the companyās fall hayride, because it was incredibly difficult acting the benevolent boss on the anniversary of his brotherās unsolved murder.
Then again, maybe having the hayride this morning was a good thing. A new, happy memory to help dull a horrific one.
Heād forgotten the charm and beauty of the eight-mile arts and crafts loop just east of Gatlinburg, Tennessee. And it certainly wasnāt 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 hometownās 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 callingāhelping others.
The modern-day Camelot heād 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 theyād violated a useless restraining order and killed someone. The Seekers sometimes played fast and loose with the law. But Masonās 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 brotherās 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 whoād been instrumental in his brotherās sham of a conviction that had given him the millions to start his company. But heād give up all his wealth, without hesitation, if it would bring Landon back.
Since that wasnāt possible, heād done the only thing he could to honor his memory. Heād 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 brotherās conviction and murder. But justice was proving to be frustratingly elusive. Which was why heād soon head home for his annual appointment with a bottle of Jack Danielās to grieve for his brother in private and curse his own failure to solve the riddle of Landonās death.
A burst of laughter sounded from the far end of the wagon. Former FBI profiler, Bryson Anton, was laughing at something his fiancĆ©e, Teagan, had said. Beside them, former secret service agent, Gage BishopāMasonās closest friend and the very first Seeker heād ever hiredāgrinned 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 Masonās 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 hadnāt 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 heād 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 storeās parking lot, where theyād all parked their personal vehicles earlier, Eli motioned toward Masonās black BMW. āLooks like someoneās waiting for you.ā
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 sheād made the long trip here in her ongoing campaign to win him back. Plus, heād heard sheād gotten engaged again. Apparently it had been too optimistic on his part to assume that would mean sheād 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. āI can take care of this. Just say the word.ā
Dalton Lynch, a former policeman from Montana, stepped beside him, straightening the black Stetson he was never without. āNeed me to block Guinevereās car while you make your getaway?ā
Bishop gave Dalton a warning look over the top of his shades. āIāve got this, cowboy.ā
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. āGuinevere?ā
Mason narrowed his eyes at Dalton, before answering. āHer name is Audrey Broussard. Years ago, many years ago, we were engaged.ā
āLancelot must have frozen her credit cards,ā Dalton said. āNo offense to your charms, boss, but I can give you several million reasons why she wants to be on your arm again.ā
Eliās look of curiosity turned to confusion. āLancelot? Wait, didnāt he sleep with Guinevere behind King Arthurās back?ā
Dalton had the grace to wince before his expression sobered. āLet Bishop and me take care of this, boss. You donāt even have to talk to her.ā
Masonās 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. āI couldnāt ask for a better team. Youāre always there for me and each other. But this...this is something I have to take care of myself.ā
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 fiancƩe, 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.
āI 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.ā
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 driverās door. āAudrey.ā
She mimicked his pose, leaning against the passenger side of her sports car. āMason. Still wearing business suits everywhere, I see. Even on a hayride.ā Her red lips curved in a practiced smile.
āImage is everything.ā He returned her smile, taking in her stilettos and silky black dress that couldnāt 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. Heād offer her his suit jacket, but he could see a fur coat draped over the passenger seat through the window behind her. Sheād obviously chosen to go for looks, instead of warmth. And she did look good, always had. Even in grade school sheād been the prettiest girl on the playground.
āYouāre as beautiful as ever.ā 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 heād never seen her looking anything less than perfect, he couldnāt help wondering if something was wrong. āIs everything all right? Do you feel okay?ā
Her cornflower blue eyes widened and she self-consciously patted her hair. āIām fine. Why do you ask?ā
She was probably just tired after the twelve-plus-hour drive from Beauchamp to Gatlinburg. Maybe sheād driven through the night to get here and hadnāt stopped at a hotel yet to rest. āNo reason. Just small talk.ā He shifted against the car and crossed his arms. āI heard you and Thibodeaux got engaged. Congratulations.ā
āIf thatās what your baby sister told you in those gossip sessions over the phone, then sheās either out of touch with the local grapevine or just being mean. Richard and I broke up a few months ago.ā She tilted her chin defiantly.
āOlivia doesnāt have a mean bone in her body. But itās been a while since our last phone call, so I didnāt realize your status had changed. Iām sorry that things didnāt work out between you and Richard.ā
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 werenāt 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 didnāt matter. āHe moved to Texas. The man I left you for has now left me. That probably makes you happy, doesnāt it? Poetic justice?ā
āNo, it doesnāt. You deserve to find that special someone just as much as anyone else. I assumed that person was Richard. Iām sorry that it wasnāt.ā
She stared at him a long moment, before blinking back the suspicious moisture in her eyes. āHe was always my second choice.ā
āAudrey, donāt.ā
āI mean it, Mason. You and I were good together. Really good. Give me another chance. Give us another chance. Forgive my one little mistake.ā
āSleeping with my best friend, then throwing your engagement ring in my face in the middle of the town square isnāt what I call one little mistake.ā
āIt 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.ā
āI may have been a lovesick fool back then, but I wasnāt blind. We both know it was more than once, with more than one guy.ā
Her face turned a bright pink.
āAs to the silly lawsuit,ā he continued, āit was the only way I could obtain any kind of justice for Landonās death. Those so-called friends of yours helped conceal and falsify evidence. If it wasnāt for them, my brother wouldnāt 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 brotherās murder? That, I can never forgive.ā
Her eyes flashed with anger. āItās 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 youāve done to others.ā
Her lightning-quick mood swing surprised him, but no more than what sheād said. Other than bringing criminals to justice, heād always tried to treat others with respect, especially Audrey. No matter what had happened between them, heād loved her once, had planned to spend the rest of his life with her. Part of him would always care about her. āIām not sure what youāre talking about. What do you think Iāve done?ā
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. āObviously, coming here was a mistake. I shouldnāt have wasted my time thinking youād soften toward me. You probably never loved me in the first place.ā
Heād 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.
āWhy are you really here? Especially today.ā
She arched a brow. āWhatās special about today?ā
Her tone told him what she refused to admit. She knew the significance of the date and must have chosen it hoping heād be more vulnerable, maybe more amenable to whatever it was that she wanted. āDid you come here for money? Have you burned through what I gave you after I won the civil suit?ā
Her face pinkened again. āItās been seven years since the lawsuit. If I had spent it all in that long a time, Iād hardly qualify it as burning through the money.ā
Since heād given her close to a million dollars, he wasnāt sure that he agreed. āHow much do you need?ā
She stared at him incredulously. āAre you seriously offering to pay me off?ā
āItās not a payoff. Itās an offer to help. If youāre in financial trouble, Iām happy to give you some money. As a friend, nothing more. But after this, Iām done. Itās not fair to either of us for you to keep coming up here. You should go home and never come back.ā
āNever come back.ā She gave him a tight smile. āCareful what you wish for.ā
He frowned. āWhatās going on in Beauchamp? Is someone bothering you? Do you need help?ā
She clutched her keys in her hand and rounded her car to the driverās side. āIf you think Iām here to hire The Justice Seekers, youāve lost your mind. Your little companyās a joke back home.ā
āA joke, huh?ā
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 couldnāt 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 didnāt want the public to know their CEOs had been taken captive on a trip out of the country. They couldnāt 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 didnāt 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 thatāsecret. Even his own family didnāt know he was there, since none of them were willing to risk being seen with him any more than Audrey was, once heād filed that lawsuit.
No one in Beauchamp ever saw past his alias and the movie-set-worthy disguise heād paid a small fortune to obtain. Which was exactly what he wanted. He wasnāt there for socializing. He went there to work on his brotherās case, not that heād 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 theyād seen or knew. One of these days heād have to put his life on hold and spend a couple of months in Beauchamp to really dig into the case. Maybe then heād finally get justice for Landon.
āIf youāre not here for money, then why are you here? We both know youāre not really pining for me. Not after all this time. Whatās going on?ā
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 couldnāt make sense of it. Her past visits had been far less confrontational. Theyād usually go to dinner, take a walk in the mountains, talk about old timesāthe good ones, before everything went bad. But no matter what he said or did, these trips of hers always ended the same wayāwith her storming off. If he lived to be a hundred, he didnāt think heād ever understand her. Which was a sad statement, considering theyād 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 heād made on every anniversary of his brotherās death. āLandon, I promise Iāll 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.ā 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.
āSuck it up, Hank,ā another man yelled. āYouāve got a vest on, you wuss.ā
Mason lunged to his feet.
Someone slammed into his back, knocking him to the floor again. There were five of them, all wearing masks.
āGrab his arms, Gary. Good grief. Heās just one man. Guys, help him.ā
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.
āSit on his back, sit on his back! Hank, quit rolling around on the floor. Get the syringe. Hurry!ā
One of the men slammed Masonās jaw against the floor. A coppery taste filled his mouth.
āDo it!ā one of them yelled again. āHurry up.ā
A sharp pain pierced the side of Masonās 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. Theyād drugged him. He tried to twist away but he couldnāt 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.
āGood gravy, how much did you give him? We donāt want to kill him. She wants him alive.ā
She? Were they talking about Audrey? Had the conversation in the parking lot been a test that heād failed, and sheād sent these thugs to teach him some sort of lesson? Heād 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 someoneās 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.
