“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.
