Right Behind Her (Bree Taggert) Page 18

  Matt asked, “How did knowing Jake and his cousin lead to you and Curtis going to jail?”

  “As I said, we were all broke. My dad left us early on. My mom worked two jobs, and we were still always behind on bills. Frank and Curtis’s dad died. They were in the same situation. You know what? You get real tired of government cheese-and-ketchup sandwiches.” His face flushed. “Anyway, Curtis didn’t have details, but he knew Jake, Harley, and Frank were up to illegal shit. Frank didn’t have a job. Yet he’d come home with a roll of cash. He had a cell phone. Back then, I wanted one so bad, but we couldn’t afford it. Frank would take me and Curtis out for pizza. He’d buy us beer. We thought he was a big shot. So, one day, me and Curtis talked about a quick way to make some money. We had the not-so-brilliant idea of robbing a convenience store. We were the dumbest motherfuckers alive. We barely planned anything, just stuck our fingers in the pockets of our jackets and demanded money from the clerk. We deserved to go to jail for sheer stupidity. We both did time and decided we didn’t want to repeat the experience.”

  Bree wrote in her notepad. “When did Frank disappear?”

  “A year or two after we got out,” Anders said.

  Matt asked, “You have no idea what kind of illegal activity Jake, Harley, and Frank participated in?”

  Anders stared at the ceiling for a few seconds. “With thirty years’ hindsight, I think they were hired thugs. These men were not criminal masterminds. They were low-level thugs. I remember Frank saying shit like they had to go bust a head. It all felt very Goodfellas, if you know what I mean.”

  Bree lifted her pen. “Who did they work for?”

  “That I can’t tell you.” Anders shook his head. “Once I got out, I avoided all of them. I went to work for a landscaping company. I didn’t even see Curtis until his brother disappeared and he needed money. Jail changed me. Frank’s disappearance knocked the sense into Curtis. He came to work here. There aren’t a lot of job opportunities when you have a record, but the guy who used to own this business”—Anders waved—“was an ex-con. He hired us, but we were warned: one fuckup and we were history. We worked hard and stayed out of trouble. When he was ready to sell the business, he let us pay him in installments. He was a really good guy.”

  Bree took Anders’s contact information, and he went back to work. Bree and Matt returned to the SUV. Bree put out a BOLO on Curtis and his pickup truck.

  She started the engine and gripped the wheel with both hands. “What now? We have two potential murder suspects and no idea where either of them is.”

  “Door number three?” Matt suggested.

  Bree steered the SUV out of the parking lot. “Let’s hope we can actually find Bradley Parson.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Matt stepped out of the vehicle at the Parson estate. On the drive, they’d called Todd and asked him to track down Harley Taggert. Matt used the dashboard computer to check motor vehicle records. Harley didn’t have a driver’s license or vehicle registered in the state of New York.

  Matt joined Bree in the long driveway. “Do you remember anything about Harley?”

  “I don’t know.” The V between her eyebrows deepened. “Maybe. The word cousin jogged a memory I didn’t even know I had.”

  The sounds of splashing and children’s voices floated on the hot breeze, and the air smelled like barbecue.

  On the way to the front door, Matt inhaled. “I’m hungry.”

  They rang the bell. The maid opened the door and raised her brows at them.

  “We’re here to see Mr. Parson,” Bree said.

  “Do you have an appointment?” The maid’s tone indicated they should.

  “No.” Bree pointed to her badge. “But I need to speak with him.”

  The maid frowned and glanced over her shoulder, as if uncertain what to do. Then she stepped back and opened the door wider. “Come in.”

  She showed them into a large study. An antique desk held a blotter, a small globe, and a pen in a brass holder. Bookshelves lined the walls. Two leather chairs and a love seat formed a conversation area. The room had an overall unused feel.

  “Wait here.” The maid withdrew.

  Bradley kept them waiting twenty minutes. When he walked in, a scowl darkened his face. He didn’t bother with a greeting. “I hope this is important.”

  “It is.”

  “I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. I was in the pool with my grandsons. I had to change clothes.” Bradley wore khaki trousers and a navy blue polo shirt. His hair was damp, and his face was flushed from heat and sun. He sat in one of the leather chairs and gestured for them to take the love seat. “What is this about?”

  Matt and Bree eased onto the cushions.

  “Where were you earlier today?” Bree asked.

  Bradley leaned back and crossed his legs. “Nancy and I took our grandsons to the fair this morning, just like every year. We brought them here afterward, and they took a nap. Why?”

  “There was an incident that might be tied to your sister’s murder case.” Bree watched his eyes.

  Bradley hesitated. “I don’t understand. How could that be? My sister has been dead for thirty years.”

  “Someone threatened my niece.” Bree quelled a quick surge of anger. “The note he left with her indicated it might be related.”

  To his credit, Bradley acted concerned. He shifted forward, planting both feet on the wood floor. “Is your niece all right?”

  “Yes.” Bree nodded. “Thank you for asking.”

  He exhaled. “We don’t know each other very well, but I would never threaten a child.”

  “Were you with your wife and grandsons the entire day?” Bree thought it convenient that Bradley was at the same event where Kayla had been nabbed.

  Bradley’s eyes locked on hers. “I wouldn’t hurt a child,” he said in a snooty tone, as if he expected her to simply take his word for it. But then, he came from a wealthy family. Being challenged was likely a rare occurrence for him.

  Bree ignored his attitude and enunciated each word of her next question. “So, you were with your wife and grandsons the entire time you were at the fair?”

  “Yes.” He bit off the word.

  “You didn’t go to the restroom or run back to your vehicle for anything?” Matt jumped in, pushing Bradley harder.

  “No.” He blinked and broke eye contact. “Wait. I went for food alone. Nancy watched the boys’ pony rides while I went to the food tent. The boys don’t have much patience for lines yet.”

  “How long were you apart from them?” Matt persisted.

  Bradley tugged at a crease in his slacks. “I don’t know. Not long.”

  “How long is not long?” Matt asked.

  Bradley’s face flushed. “I don’t know. Maybe twenty minutes.”

  From the way he was resisting giving them a time, it was probably longer.

  Bree made a note. “What did you do after you returned home?”

  Matt was suspicious. Was he reading too much into Bradley’s arrogance or the way he conveniently forgot he’d separated from his wife and grandsons for a short time?

  “I also took a nap.” Bradley gave them a wry smile. “Running after two little boys is exhausting. My wife has more energy than I do.”

  Bree pulled out the photo of the four men on the porch and handed it to Bradley. “Do you recognize any of these men?”

  He studied the picture. “None of them look familiar.” He handed it back.

  She turned the picture to face Bradley and pointed to Frank’s face. “This is Frank Evans, the man who was buried with your sister.”

  “Jane didn’t bring her male friends to family or social events.” Bradley turned up a palm in a who knows gesture. He didn’t even try to look at the photo again, which Matt found odd. Wouldn’t he want more information on the man who had died with his sister?

  “You assume Frank had a relationship with your sister?” Matt asked.

  “I really have no idea.” Bradley mo
tioned toward the photo. “He could have slept with Jane. He could have worked on her car. They could have had no relationship whatsoever. My sister didn’t keep me apprised of her life in any way.”

  “Do the following names sound familiar?” Bree began. “Curtis Evans, Jake Taggert, Harley Taggert.”

  “No.” Bradley didn’t blink. “I’ve never heard of any of those men, but two of them share your last name.”

  “Yes,” Bree admitted. “Jake Taggert was my father.”

  Bradley’s gaze went cold. “And my sister’s remains were found on your father’s land. Maybe he killed them both. Maybe you should be interrogating your own family instead of mine, or are you too close to the case?”

  “My father is a suspect in your sister’s murder,” Bree said. “But he’s been dead for twenty-seven years. He didn’t threaten my niece today.”

  “And we have no indication that he even knew Jane,” Matt added.

  “That is your problem.” Bradley stood and smoothed the wrinkles from his slacks. “I’d like to go back to my family now. My son and his wife are on their way over for a barbecue.”

  Bree stood and faced him. “I’d like to ask your mother if she recognizes these men.”

  “She doesn’t,” Bradley said.

  “I’d like to hear that from her,” Bree insisted.

  Bradley dismissed her with a shake of his head. “My mother hasn’t been feeling well since she learned of Jane’s death. I won’t allow you to upset her again. In fact, none of us will be speaking with you again without our attorney. I don’t want to make your job difficult, but I will protect my family.”

  “We’re done,” Bree conceded. “For now.”

  They were given the boot without seeing anyone else in the house. The door closed behind them, and they started down the walkway.

  Matt turned and tried to look at his own back. “Do I have a shoe print on my ass?”

  “Right?” Back in the SUV, Bree said, “His concern for Kayla and his own family seemed sincere, but I don’t trust him.”

  “I don’t trust anybody,” Matt agreed. “What do we do now?”

  “We should go home and get some sleep.” Bree rubbed a hand down her face. “Before the stunt with Kayla, I could easily have believed my father was the killer, but now . . .”

  “Our investigation clearly triggered someone to threaten you, and why get triggered if you aren’t guilty?”

  “That’s how it feels to me.” Bree thumped the wheel with a fist. “Our killer overplayed his hand.”

  Matt had no doubt they would eventually solve the case. Bree focused like Brody on a scent. She would never let up until she’d figured it out.

  If the killer was willing to target a child this early in the investigation, what would he do as they drew closer?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Bree was parked in front of the grocery store. Luke emerged just after ten o’clock, his black apron tossed over his shoulder. Bree pulled up to the curb, and he stepped into the vehicle.

  “How was your shift?” she asked as he buckled his seat belt.

  “OK.” Luke leaned back and stared out the passenger window. His attitude was so cold, Bree could almost feel frost in the middle of July.

  She fumbled for words. “I’m sorry the case has intruded on your life.”

  “Are you?” he snapped. Luke was usually even tempered, so the outburst surprised Bree.

  “Yes. I am.”

  He sulked, also not typical for him.

  Bree often stumbled with parenting. She had no experience, and taking on the job with two half-grown kids often felt like being tossed into the ocean without knowing how to swim. The only lesson she’d learned from her own parents was what not to do. She’d survived most of her adult life by compartmentalizing her feelings and locking them away. Now that she needed to connect on an emotional level, she floundered.

  Instead of circling around Luke’s feelings, Bree plowed straight through. “What’s going on?”

  He chewed on a thumbnail. “Nothing.”

  “Luke, I can’t read your mind. I’m sorry I’m not better at this communication thing, but you need to tell me what’s happening with you.” She glanced at him.

  His jaw jutted forward in a very Taggert way. Bree could see Erin in him, but she also saw herself. He was kind like his mother, but also stubborn like Bree. Where did that trait originate? Jake? Bree hoped not. She knew half her DNA came from her father. She and both the kids had inherited his hazel eyes, but she didn’t want any of his personal characteristics. And she didn’t wish them on Luke either.

  “Talk to me, Luke.”

  “You still treat me like I’m a kid.” He balled up his hands into fists and rested them on his thighs.

  “I’m sorry. It’s a hard balance for me.”

  “I could have driven myself to work.”

  “Maybe, but I appreciate your cooperation,” Bree said. “The fact is, I don’t know if you’re in any danger or not, but I can’t take any chances. Not with you or Kayla. You’re too important to me.”

  Luke didn’t look at her, which meant he had more to say. Bree pulled away from the curb and started home in the dark. She’d learned that he often opened up better if they weren’t staring at each other.

  He dropped his head and stared at his clenched fists. “How long is this going to last?”

  “I don’t know. I’m trying to catch him.”

  “What if you don’t? Will I ever be able to drive by myself again?”

  Bree swallowed a pat answer. “Yes. This won’t last.”

  “But how long?” Luke nearly whined, which was not like him at all.

  “Luke, what is really going on? This isn’t like you.”

  He looked to the window. “I have plans for next weekend.”

  “OK. I’m sure we can work something out. What are your plans?”

  He hesitated. “There’s this girl . . .”

  “Do you have a date?”

  “Not exactly. A bunch of us were just going to hang out.”

  “OK. So, you have plans to hang out with your friends next weekend, and a girl you like is going to be there.”

  “I think.”

  Bree did not miss being a teenager. Not one bit. Poor Luke had to navigate his most difficult years around his mother’s violent death, his father going to jail, and his aunt’s new job as the county sheriff. The kid had more strikes against him than a minor league team. “What are your plans?”

  He gave her a jerky shrug. “Maybe a movie. Maybe the diner.”

  “OK. I’ll tell you what. I will do everything I can to make sure you can go next week, but I can’t make any absolute promises.”

  He flushed, but his chin came up. “OK.”

  Bree reached across the SUV and squeezed his forearm. “I love you, and I won’t let anything happen to you, even if that makes you mad.” Her eyes turned hot with tears. “There is absolutely nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” Including kill or die.

  She might not have given birth to Luke and Kayla, but they’d become her kids. The love she had for them was fierce and also terrifying.

  “I’m sorry if I’m being a pain.”

  “You’re never a pain, Luke. I want you to talk to me. There is no topic that’s off limits. You’re getting older. You’ll be off to college in two years.” The thought of him leaving made her a little sick. “I’m not going to be able to fix all your problems, but I’ll do what I can. And I’ll always be here to listen. Sometimes, just talking to someone helps.”

  Luke turned and looked at her for the first time since he’d gotten into the car. “Who do you talk to?”

  Bree had to think. “Last year, I would have said Vader. I could have talked to Dana, but I probably wouldn’t have. I kept things bottled up.” She paused. “I don’t have to tell you how hard it is to trust or open up after you’ve lost someone.”

  Luke sniffed and swallowed.

  “But I’m learning that’s not the b
est way to live. Honestly, I was missing out. Life is much better if you have people to share it with you.”

  “Are you happy with us?” Luke asked, his tone completely serious.

  “I’m not even sure how to answer that question.” Bree stopped at a traffic light and turned right. “I’m happier than I knew I could be.”

  “You didn’t answer my question about who you talk to.” Luke circled back to his previous question like a seasoned interrogator.

  “I said Dana.”

  “You also said you probably wouldn’t talk to her.”

  “You’re tough,” Bree said. “Now I have you, Kayla, and Adam.”

  “Matt?” Luke’s tone turned teasing.

  “Yes. And Matt.” Bree laughed. “Having people to talk to isn’t just about sharing problems. When good things happen, they aren’t as good if you’re all alone.” Bree searched for the right words. “Everything is better with family, whether it’s the family you’re born into or one you form by choice. That’s something I’m learning late in life. I wish I’d figured it out sooner. I missed out.”

  “Good.” Luke nodded. “I like Matt.”

  Violence had damaged her in childhood. Growing up, she’d protected her heart by walling it off. She’d always thought her scars were permanent, but maybe she could heal. When she’d assumed the job of raising the kids, she’d been forced out of her emotional comfort zone. Their needs had outweighed her own fears.

  But Luke had a point about Matt. He was the person outside the family who Bree reached out to when she had news to share, good or bad. Her feelings for him were growing more complicated, but underneath it all, she liked him. She enjoyed spending time with him, which was something she should give more consideration. But tonight, she was focused on Luke.

  “So, what’s her name?” she asked.

  “Paris.” Luke’s wistful tone said it all.

  “Is she fun?”

  “Yeah. Sometimes we just talk for hours.” His voice brightened. “She’s really smart.”

  “When you’re ready, she can always come out to the farm. Does she like horses?”

  “She’s never ridden one, but she’s always wanted to.”