Deadly Revenge (Pearl River #3)

Chapter 25

25

Max’s weight was killing Jenna. He’d shoved her to the ground and put his body between her and the shooter. A noble thought if she didn’t suffocate. “I can’t move.”

“You okay?”

“I will be once you let me up.” Max rolled away from her, and she breathed again.

Jenna climbed to her knees and retrieved the gun she’d dropped when Max tackled her. Now that the immediate danger was over, she didn’t know whether to be glad he’d wanted to protect her or mad that he thought she couldn’t protect herself. She decided to go with her first impulse. “Thanks. You have good reflexes. You okay?”

“I’m good. Sorry if I hit you too hard.” He glanced toward her. “And I know you think it was completely unnecessary, but I can’t help how I react.”

“That’s why I didn’t take your head off.” She softened the words with a laugh. “I’m assuming our shooter is Mr. Darby.”

“Never assume. Why don’t you call out to him?”

“Good idea.” She stood, and using a tree as a shield, she yelled, “Mr. Darby ... it’s me, Jenna Hart. We talked at the diner today, and I’d like to talk to you again, ask you some questions about Joe Slater.”

“Go away! I ain’t got nothing to say.”

She turned to Max. “I think that settles the question of who was shooting,” she said.

“Yep. Try to reason with him.”

“You don’t know what I’m going to ask,” she yelled. When he didn’t respond, she added, “Three people have died and we think you can help us.”

More silence. Then ... “Told you I don’t have anything to say. You might as well leave.” Determination resonated in his voice.

“I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

She waited.

“You always were a stubborn little thing.” More silence. “All right. You can come to the house, but leave the other officer where he is.”

Max shook his head. “That’s not a good idea.”

“I’ll be okay. Mr. Darby won’t hurt me.” She believed that with all her heart. The man couldn’t have changed that much from when she was a kid. “I’ll talk him into letting you join us.”

She holstered her gun and walked toward the house. “I’m coming in by myself,” she yelled.

Even though she didn’t think the old man would shoot her, Jenna couldn’t help being nervous. Mr. Darby sat on the front porch. He didn’t look much like a hermit—she’d always pictured a hermit with tattered overalls and long white hair and beard.

Instead, he was still dressed in his khakis and a plaid shirt. A black dog lay at his feet, at least she thought it was a dog, but her gaze was on the deer rifle across his lap. A chill raced down her back. He could’ve killed them if he’d wanted.

What made him so paranoid? The question ate at her. She approached the porch and stopped when the huge, shaggy-haired dog stood. A low growl rumbled from his throat. “Afternoon. Does he bite?”

He nodded. “Down, Bear.”

Appropriate name. The dog circled and lay at Darby’s feet, but he watched Jenna’s every move. There’d be no sneaking up on his owner.

She propped her foot against the bottom step. “Any chance you’d put that rifle down?”

“Might’ve if you’d come alone.”

“Max won’t hurt you. He’s—”

“TBI.”

“You knew?”

“Heard some people at the diner talking about you and the TBI agent.” He cocked his head to the side. “So what makes you think the Slaters were murdered now—two hours ago you didn’t.”

“I didn’t say they were murdered.”

“Didn’t have to. Three people are dead and you’re here to question me—doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out it’s murder.”

That must be why he let her come to the house—he wanted to know how they died. Maybe she could leverage that. “A couple of things. Can Max join us?”

His lips twitched. “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me anything if he doesn’t.”

She smiled her answer, and he gave a curt nod. “Hey, Max, come on up.”

Darby leaned the rifle against the straight-back chair as Max joined them at the porch. When Bear saw him, the ruff of his neck rose and a low growl rumbled in his throat. “It’s okay. At ease,” Darby said.

The dog settled back down but stayed wary as she introduced the two men. “And that’s Bear.” She pointed to the dog.

“Aptly named. Thanks for letting me join you,” Max said.

“Don’t thank me, thank your partner here—she’s beyond stubborn.”

Jenna swallowed a smile. “I think of myself as independent.”

“Ha!” Max said. “Mr. Darby here has the right word.” That made the old man smile. Max nodded at the dog. “What breed is Bear?”

“Good question. If I had to guess, I’d say some St. Bernard and some Lab, maybe a little Heinz 57.” He rubbed the huge dog’s head. “Okay, tell me about the Slaters, Paul Nelson too, if you know any more.”

Jenna nodded. “Nelson was shot and buried in a shallow grave near where you used to hunt with my dad.”

He pressed his lips together in a thin line. “And Slater? You figured out yet the wreck wasn’t an accident?”

“Pretty sure you’re right—tie-rod came loose on that new vehicle of his and the nut holding it looks tampered with,” Max said.

Color drained from the man’s face.

“What can you tell us about them?” Jenna asked. “Do you know who would want them dead?”

“Just about anyone who had dealings with them during Harrison Carter’s early administration, especially the dam project.”

“Was there anyone who was for the dam project?” Max asked.

“Maybe a few people in town who didn’t lose their family land. Or those in the valley who had already sold out—they probably didn’t care one way or the other.”

“I don’t understand. I didn’t know anyone had sold their property.” From what Jenna remembered, most of the people who lived where the dam and reservoir had been created refused to sell—that included her dad’s friends she’d talked to last night. The state had condemned their land by eminent domain and seized it.

When Darby didn’t respond, Jenna repeated her question.

He looked off in the distance, then brought his attention back to her. “That was probably the wrong choice of words. Your dad knows more about the subject than I do. Just ask him. I’ve already said more than I should’ve.”

“What do you mean by that?” Max asked. “Has someone threatened you?”

“Nope. Nobody has any cause to threaten me.” He checked his watch and stood. “It’s about my supper time, so if you’ll excuse me.”

They had been dismissed. Period. But she wasn’t finished. “How about Harrison Carter? What can you tell us about him?”

He chewed on her question, then said, “Like I said, he was mayor when Joe Slater and Paul Nelson were councilmen.”

They were going in circles. “Did you like him?” she asked.

Again he was slow on his answer. “Liked him ’bout as well as I like any politician.”

The man was infuriating.

“Was he honest?” Max asked.

Darby scratched his jaw. “’Bout as honest as—”

“Any politician,” Jenna finished for him. She would fight this battle another day. She stood and fished a card from her pocket. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Darby. If you think of anything that might help with our investigation, would you contact me?”

“Don’t think I’ll be remembering anything new,” he said.

That was exactly what she thought he’d say. She circled her cell phone number. “If you do, you can always reach me at this number. And can I have your phone number? In case I have more questions.”

He rattled off his number. “It don’t work half the time here, so don’t be surprised if I don’t answer.”

She didn’t know whether it didn’t work because of reception or if it was his way of saying he wouldn’t be answering. Jenna wrote it down anyway.

He stood. “I’ll walk down and let you out so you won’t have to crawl under the fence.”

Now he was going to be nice? She couldn’t figure him out, but she had one last question for him. Not that she expected an answer. “Why are you barricaded in like this?”

“Why not? There’s a lot of bad people in this world.”