Chapter 8
As fast as the Augusts were driving, Violet caught up to them as they turned down their driveway.
A group of them gathered near an outbuilding, and that’s where the truck she followed parked.
The early evening light cast a warm glow over a dark scene.
Butch was a big, brawny jerk. Not someone easily overcome.
He was on his side, blood staining the ground.
So much like Arlo’s death scene. Those last words punched her in the gut.
Gods, was he really dead? Everything that had happened since that morning seemed surreal.
When she got out of her car, several people looked at her as though she’d Catalyzed into a chicken.
“What’re you doing here?” Larry called out, his voice tight.
Bren turned to them, hitching his thumb at her. “Vee here is going to get justice for us. She’s investigating the recent murders.”
She heard various mumbling in response, mostly suspicion or skepticism.
“You’re not the only clan to lose a family member like this.
Arlo…was murdered this morning.” She listed some of the other names on her fingers like Ernie had done.
“Think about it. Something’s not right here.
Why are Fringers suddenly killing one another in what looks like ambush murders? Somebody’s trying to incite us.”
“I say we take out the whole Spears clan like you did with the Garzas,” one August said.
“I didn’t do that.” She had nothing to do with it, being a kid at the time.
She’d seen the bloody body of one of her cousins though, their only fatality in the skirmish.
His mother had collapsed over it, sobbing so deeply that Violet had felt her own heart tear apart.
“Let me figure this out before anyone goes on a rampage. Do we need to lose more of our people?”
Anger and the need for revenge sparked in their eyes, and yeah, she felt it too. For Arlo. Revenge and rage were in their blood. She’d promised herself she would do everything she could to stamp that out of her psyche, to be the level-headed one.
The Augusts were still grumbling, and she heard words like…kill them.
Time to use a different angle. “Kill the people or person behind this spree. Gut them, hang them from the tree. But kill the right person.”
That got their heads nodding, a few murmurs of agreement. She was less hopeful about the mutterers.
“Who is the right person?” the patriarch asked, his grief and shock evident in his eyes.
“I’m working on finding out.”
“Who was that guy you were with?” Bren asked. “Does he have anything to do with this?”
“He’s a private detective.” Close enough to the truth, though eventually someone was going to recognize him.
The patriarch arched his bushy eyebrow. “You involved an outsider in our business?”
“I involved him because he’s objective. For the very fact that he is an outsider.”
Bren said, “He wasn’t an outsider when you stuck your tongue down his throat.”
Well, I didn’t know what his story was going to be at the time. “He’s also a close friend.”
Butch’s wife collapsed in gut-wrenching wails.
Several Augusts went to her side, while others drifted back to the death scene.
Her grief brought Violet’s to the surface, and she blinked back tears as she searched the ground.
They didn’t know the pattern of the murderer leaving a phony clue.
She wanted to find the clue before they did.
“We already know it was those damned Spearses,” someone said. “They retaliated on our retaliation. Not only is that against the unwritten rules, it’s a declaration of war.”
She sighted something hanging from a branch.
The full import of the alligator foot key ring being there hit her hard.
No one had seen it. Yet. She edged closer, pretending to get a better look at the body as the family discussed the wounds.
Keeping her gaze on them, she snatched the key ring out of the bush.
Seeing the C stamped into the base of the foot felt like a thunderclap in her heart.
The murderer left it here to set up her clan as responsible for Butch’s murder.
“Violet.”
She spun, coming face to face with Bren’s somber face. “Yes?”
“You should leave. You don’t belong here at a time like this.” Or ever, really, though he didn’t say that. She clutched the key ring in her hand and held it next to her thigh. “I was only hoping to stop your family from going on a rampage.”
“They’re going to do what they’re going to do.” He reached for her hand. She kept it closed tight, her Dragon shuddering. If they knew this was here, and that she was hiding it, they’d take care of justice the easy way—by killing her immediately. She would have no chance against the group of them.
His hand wrapped around hers. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do.
I know how much having peace in the Fringe means to you, and yeah, I took advantage of that.
” He didn’t look apologetic, but at least he acknowledged it.
“But there are some of my kin who are hungry for blood, and your presence isn’t helping. ”
She nodded, pulling her hand back. “I’ll go now.”
The keychain bit into her palm from holding it so hard. She grabbed for the truck door handle, and the gator foot fell to the ground. Bren was still watching, now a short distance away. She swiped it up, got into the vehicle and took off.
Kade’s new Black BMW wasn’t in Ernie’s lot. She searched for it all the way home. Had he given up the idea of investigating? She ignored the stab of disappointment.
Her mother waved her down as she passed the main house, two stories of plantation-style home.
Kay Castanega was no southern belle, though.
The hard planes of her face, tanned and weathered, held no hint of makeup.
Her work clothes, stained with old alligator blood, hung on her bony frame.
Her ma hadn’t dated since her husband’s death.
Sometimes Violet was tempted to tell her it was all right by her, but she just couldn’t get the words out.
The flames in her mother’s light blue eyes barely flickered as she approached the car, grief etched as deeply as her facial lines. Violet rolled down her window as she slowed to a stop. “Everything all right, Ma?” It wasn’t, of course.
“The funeral home called about Arlo’s service. It’s set for two days from now.”
Violet had the urge to get out and hug her mom, but Castanegas didn’t do things like that.
They stood together, fought as one, but they didn’t hold one another for comfort, didn’t share any feelings but the angry ones.
Violet only nodded, her mouth turning down in a frown. “Did the boys tell you my theory?”
“Yeah, they said you were investigating. Be careful out there, Vee. You’re putting yourself in the crossfire by nosing around.”
Guess she wouldn’t tell her that she had tread onto August land. “I’ll be careful.”
Ma nodded toward the back of the property.
“Those boys are up to something. I heard fighting. When I went to check it out, Jessup met me in your front yard, said there was a coon in your workshop and for me not to worry about it. I knew he was lying, but I just didn’t have the energy to find out what he was up to. ”
Oh, damn. “I’ll check it out.”
Violet sped down the road. Her house, at least from the front, looked nice and normal.
No sign of Chumley. She cut the engine, grabbed the keychain, and got out.
Her senses were tuned in to her surroundings.
Blue jays warbled in the pine trees, then let out loud squawks before taking off.
The breeze ruffled the needles and bushes around her house.
She walked around the back, finding signs of a skirmish where the dirt was messed up.
But she and Kade may have done that. They’d gotten down and dirty, all right.
Her workshop door was still open, no sign of a raccoon anywhere.
The sound of footsteps pulled her attention farther into the woods. Jessup and Ryan came into view, looking a bit too smug for guys who’d defeated a mere raccoon. Jessup had his trademark swagger, wearing only jeans. Ryan had a more deliberate gait and watchful nature. Both headed her way.
She hooked her thumbs in the front pockets of her jeans and waited for them.
Jessup spoke before she could. “Where have you been?” He had that post-fight glow in his eyes, vibrating with dangerous energy. Coupled with his five o’clock shadow, he looked downright predatory.
“Butch August is dead, too.” She held out her hand, the keychain resting on her palm. “I found this near where he was killed and grabbed it before anyone saw it.”
They both stared at it but neither looked guilty.
She said, “A handkerchief tied Shirley’s death to the Spears boy. Footprints led from the Peregrine murder scene to the property next door. Now it looks as though you were responsible for Butch’s death.”
Jessup lifted his hands. “We’re not stupid enough to leave something like that lying around, even if we did have a reason to kill Butch. Which we don’t.”
“I know that. It just goes to my theory that someone is setting us up so we’ll kill one another.” She dropped her hand, hooking the ring around her finger. “Ma says there was a raccoon in my workshop. What’s going on? And don’t bullshit me.”
Jessup crossed his arms over his chest. “Vee, if you’ve been hiding something you need to come clean with us.”
The underlying tension in his command prickled over her skin. “Hard to hide stuff if you’re all living on one piece of land and working together every day.” The good and bad about being close to her family.
“So, there’s nothing we need to know?” Jessup asked.
“Nope.”
True enough. They didn’t need to know about Kade.
Jessup nodded. “That’s what I thought.” He gave Ryan a look Violet couldn’t decipher. “We’d better show her what we found.”