Page 133 of Deadly Revenge

“I’m sure Carter could bring in experts saying otherwise.”

“Mebbe so, but the way they were discussing it, Earl was also going to spill the beans about how Carter and his cronies had bought up a bunch of land in the valley. If the dam didn’t go through, they would’ve lost a passel of money.”

Darby sat up straighter and crossed his arms over his chest. “Next thing I know, Earl’s dead.”

Jenna leaned forward. “But he accidentally shot himself climbing out of a deer stand, right?”

“If you believe that, I got some rocky ground I’ll sell you to grow corn on.”

“He didn’t?” Max said.

“Naw. I heard Harrison Carter say he’d take care of the problem—that he’d heard Earl was going deer hunting that weekend. Next thing I know, I’m going to a funeral for the man.”

Max rubbed his thumb around the rim of his mug. It was an interesting story, but he couldn’t imagine confronting Carter with it or getting a search warrant to look for proof that it was true. “How does this play into the deaths of the Slaters and Nelson?”

Darby drained the last of his coffee. “Don’t suppose I could have another one of these?”

Jenna picked up the mug. Darby locked his gnarled fingers together and massaged the heel of his hand with his thumb while she poured his coffee.

He was stewing. Max could tell, and he left Darby alone. Jennaset the mug in front of him. “I didn’t ask if you wanted cream and sugar the first time.”

“Black is good.” Darby unlocked his hands, and his fingers shook when he picked up the cup, sloshing hot liquid. “Ahh!” He jerked back, almost dropping the cup.

Jenna jumped for the cup while Max grabbed paper towels. “Did you burn yourself?” she asked.

“No ... at least not bad.” He took the paper towel Max offered and dried his hands. “Sorry for being so messy. I’m just jittery.”

Max handed him another towel. “That’s easy to see. What are you not telling us? Maybe getting that off your chest will ease your nerves.”

He hunched over the cup. “I did something a month ago and didn’t know it would end up with people dead.”

His voice was barely a whisper.

Jenna knelt beside his chair. “What did you do?”

He turned toward her. “It’s coming up on the twentieth anniversary of when Earl died, and Todd caught me when I came to town for groceries.”

“That was a month ago?” Jenna asked.

He nodded. “That’s about the only time I go to town unless I have a doctor’s appointment. Anyway, he was asking me what I knew about his dad’s death.”

Max sipped his coffee, ignoring that it was cold. He didn’t want to stop the man once he’d started talking. “Why did he think you knew anything?”

“Todd is smart.” Darby sighed. “You see, I quit right after Earl’saccident, and he’d come to the house off and on over the years, asking what I knew—he didn’t believe for a second his dad shot himself.”

He gave Jenna a tiny smile. “He’d walk down like you did and crawl under the wire, but I never told him anything.”

“Why talk to him this time?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was because he reminded me it’d been twenty years. Maybe I just got tired of carrying the burden of knowing. Maybe it was the whiskey he gave me while we sat in his truck. All the maybes in the world won’t change that what I told him sent him over the edge—made a killer out of him.”

70

Jenna rose from where she’d been kneeling beside Darby and sat in the chair across from him. “You don’t know for sure that Todd Donelson killed the Slaters and Nelson.”

Darby’s mouth twitched. “Maybe not in the sense that I have proof.” He touched his heart. “But I know here.”

Just like she would’ve known if her dad had been dead.

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