Page 8 of Deadly Revenge

And why did Jenna pop into his mind?

Maybe because kissing her the night of his farewell party from the Chattanooga Police Department hadn’t been a mistake. The mistake had been in not calling her afterward. He didn’t blame her for being mad.

Either way, she wasn’t over it. Or maybe she just wasn’t interested. She was definitely different from the Jenna he remembered. He couldn’t quite pin it down ... sadder, maybe. Definitely softer than the brash detective he remembered.

Probably because of Phillip Ross. The homicide detective had been one reason he hadn’t called Jenna once he was in Nashville—he’d heard from some of his former coworkers that she’d gotten engaged to Phillip.

Later the same coworkers had told him Phillip had broken the engagement, and Max should have called her then. But it’d been about that time that he’d been thrust into the middle of a hot murder case in the eastern corner of Tennessee. Working day and night, he hadn’t even learned she’d been shot until weeks later. Max sighed. He wasn’t proud of the way he’d buried himself in his work, but he was trying to do better.

Someone called his name, and he looked around. Two men approached, both wearing city park uniforms. Good. Nathan had said he would have the park director meet him.

“Maxwell Anderson?” the taller of the men asked.

“That’s me.”

“I’m Dave Martin, the director of Pearl Springs Parks and Recreation, and this is my assistant, Derrick Holliday. The police chief said you were here.”

“Thanks for finding me.” He held up his drawings. “I’ve been sketching the layout. Maybe you can tell me if I’ve missed anything.” He nodded to a concrete picnic table a few feet away. “How about over there?”

He brushed off the table and showed them what he’d drawn.“I’ve marked where each security person will be. What do you think? Have I left anything out other than the roads?”

Both men studied the maps and nodded. “Looks good to me,” Martin said. His phone chimed, and he looked at it. “Excuse me a minute.”

He turned away from them, and Max snapped photos of the drawings while he waited for Martin to finish his conversation. He looked over and caught Holliday studying him with a question on his face. “Yeah?”

“I can’t understand why the TBI is interested in our little picnic,” Holliday said. “Unless someone’s made a threat against our illustrious former mayor.”

Information about the threat against Carter was on a need-to-know basis, and neither of the men qualified. Still, Max didn’t miss the sarcasm in the assistant director’s voice. “You don’t like Harrison Carter?”

“Didn’t like him when he was mayor, and he certainly won’t get my vote for senator.”

“Why don’t you like him?”

“He’s crooked for one thing, and another ...” His face turned red. “Let’s just leave it at he’s crooked.”

Nothing Max had read in the background report said anything about Harrison Carter doing anything illegal. The report hadn’t given any details of his tenure as mayor of Pearl Springs, only that he’d resigned from the office to run for the state senate four years ago. And now he was running for the US Senate. “Why do you say that?”

Holliday’s face hardened. “The state took my grandparents’ farm when Carter rammed that dam project through. He told everyone it would bring industry to this area, which was a lie.” He crossed his arms. “And my grandparents didn’t get near what the place was worth. You’ll find quite a few people around here still upset about the dam and reservoir.”

Max could understand people being upset about losing their land, but that didn’t make Carter crooked. Still, it raised the idea that maybe the person who sent the letter to Carter was homegrown.

“How long ago are you talking about?”

“Depends on when you’re talking about. Not many people know this, but our former mayor applied for a grant to build the dam while he was the city engineer. I know this because my aunt was his secretary, and that’d be ...”—Holliday rubbed his temple—“at least twenty-seven, twenty-eight years ago. But if you’re talking about the actual surveying and taking of the land, you’re looking at around fifteen to twenty years ago.”

Max dismissed what he’d been thinking. It was too long ago to have any bearing on the threats to Carter now. He was rolling up the maps to leave when Martin turned around, pocketing his phone. The man looked like he’d been sucker punched.

Martin blinked. “I can’t believe it.”

“What’s wrong?” Holliday asked.

“That was my wife—she was really upset.” He shook his head. “Joe Slater and his wife are dead. Killed this morning when his car went over a cliff just below their house.” He turned to Max. “Do you happen to know anything about the wreck?”

Max nodded. “I rode to the accident site with Alex Stone, but I don’t know any of the details, only that the bodies were sent to Chattanooga for autopsy.”

Stunned silence followed, then Holliday shrugged. “That’s really odd.”

“What’s that?” Martin said.

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