Page 81 of Jameson’s Salvation

“How much you wanna bet Weston calls within the hour?”

“You know he will. Good thing for him he can indeed outrun those two or I have a feeling they’d put it to him.”

Jameson smiled into the darkness thinking how different his life was now. Five years ago he would’ve never imagined having that type of conversation. Hell, six months ago he would’ve never thought he’d be standing in his woman’s driveway after helping her mother into the car. And not even two months ago would he ever have believed he’d fall ass over tea kettle in love.

What a difference one woman can make.

* * *

They were sitting at Kennedy’s table listening to the conversation between Reggie and Gary for the second time. Jameson had been surprised at Kennedy’s lack of emotion over hearing Peyton was dead. She expressed sadness that life had been lost but had followed it up with, bad people reap bad things.

“Listen to this part again,” McKenna said and played back the beginning of the recording.

“I heard a new business agreement is needed.” Gary Earle started the conversation.

“Not so fast,” Reggie protested.

“I don’t take risks. I need to know my investment is solid.” Gary obviously didn’t like Reggie’s hesitation and continued. “I had the new papers drawn up this afternoon.”

“That’s not needed,” Reggie rushed out his tone, missing his normal cocky attitude. “Give it a week. Everything will work out.”

“No risks. That was the deal. Risks are to be eliminated immediately. You agreed to that. I can just as easily dissolve the partnership and run solo.”

McKenna paused the conversation.

“Does that sound like Gary was telling Reggie he planned on killing Peyton?” she asked.

“If we assume Peyton is the risk,” Nixon answered.

“Gary was clear risks are to be eliminated immediately,” Chasin added. “But how would Gary find someone to take out Peyton so quickly? He was only arrested yesterday and this conversation happened less than eight hours before Peyton was found dead.”

“A leftover from Sheriff Dick Dillinger’s reign?” Nixon suggested. “I know Jonny and the sheriff have been working on making sure the department is purged of all the shit that plagued them. However, it’s gonna take more than a few months. That’s one thought, but we need to figure out who Gary Earle is. He could have his own connections and it may have nothing to do with Dillinger.”

“I can help with some of it, but McKenna will have to work her magic and dig deeper.” Holden started looking at his tablet screen. “Gary Earle was born in Dover, Delaware, and now lives in Wilmington. He’s hella wealthy and made his money by going into slums and rebuilding. I found an interesting article about him accusing him of bribing local and state officials. Of course, all involved denied the claims, but a local community outreach organization is adamant. They even provide documentation that their requests to tear down dilapidated old row homes to build low-income housing and a community center was denied, citing historical preservation. But six months later Gary Earle obtained the land and the permits for demolition. The county came back and said they were misquoted that the outreach organization lacked funding. Yet the organization supplied original copies of the denial letters and bank statements with more than enough funding.”

“So Gary Earle’s the Reggie Coleman of Wilmington,” Kennedy concluded.

“Sounds like it,” Holden agreed. “Now the question is, how did the two scumbags come together to form a partnership? And why would Earle have any interest in a small farming community?”

“I’ll work on it first thing in the morning.” McKenna typed her notes and looked around. “Anything else?”

“Yes, can you find the link between Sunbelt Heating and Air Conditioning and Reggie? If not for anything else, we’ll have confirmation Reggie ordered the man not to fix Lola’s AC,” Jameson requested.

“Wait. Then who fixed my mom’s AC?” Kennedy asked. “She said it’s working.”

“Nixon and Zack,” Jameson offered.

“What happened?”

Jameson gave Kennedy the abbreviated story and with each word he’d spoken her eyes narrowed with irritation.

“You know, Reggie really is an asshole. I mean, we already knew that but he’s the king of all dicks. I just don’t get why everyone does his bidding.”

“I’ll find that out tomorrow, too,” McKenna told her. “And someone should go speak to Willow Realty and the agent in charge of his rentals.

“I’m on that. I’ll go first thing in the morning,” Chasin volunteered. “And I’ll see if the shop owners will talk to me.”

“Go easy on Jonas Brown, he’s a total hippy and very sensitive,” Kennedy advised. “And maybe I’m wrong. Maybe he just wasn’t happy with my product.”