Page 20 of Deadly Revenge

“Yeah, it has,” she said. Like twenty years at least. Suddenly she missed those tomboy years when she’d roamed the hills with this group and their dogs. Jenna had always preferred the training to the actual hunt, even though it was important to control the raccoon population.

“So, what’s the word on the Slaters’ deaths?” her uncle asked.

Jenna turned toward Sam. “You know I can’t share anything about the investigation.”

“Then what’s the use of having a Russell County deputy in the family?” he snapped. “Come on, Jen, you can give ussomething.”

“Leave it alone, Sam,” her dad said. “She’s not going to tell you anything.”

“You trying to tell me what to do, Randy?” Her uncle glowered at her dad.

And that was why sometimes she wanted to shy away from Sam—he was always so testy. It was almost like he was looking for ways to start a quarrel.

“Come on, Sam.” Gordon pulled a silver flask from his overalls, uncapped it, and took a generous sip before handing it off to her uncle. “She’s as stubborn as you are, so you might as well leave her be.”

Jenna frowned. Sam was drinking again? Hadn’t it cost him enough? And she never remembered her dad’s friends drinking on a run before. Russell County wasn’t dry, and they were on private property, so it wasn’t illegal, but still ...

It didn’t matter that it was off-season and none of the men carried their rifles—she had no doubt that every one of them had a pistol of some sort in their front pocket or maybe even an ankle holster.

The drinking made her uneasy—alcohol and hunting were two things that didn’t mix. Especially when it included her hotheaded uncle—add a rifle, and that spelled even more trouble.

Sam took a swig from the bottle and handed it to the man beside him before he leaned against a broad oak tree. “Sure do miss huntin’ in the valley.”

At least his tone held a wistful note now instead of anger.

“Yeah,” Todd murmured. “Haven’t seen any good come from what they did, either. Wasn’t that dam supposed to bring in industry?”

Finally, maybe they would talk about Joe Slater and any enemies he might have.

“Bring in industry?” A harsh laugh broke the silence. “You’re joking, right?”

Jenna turned toward Junior. There was still talk in the county about how Sheriff Stone disarmed the then-farmer and took him to jail for threatening the surveyors when they crossed his family’s land.

Junior turned the flask up, then coughed as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “That’s stuff’s strong.” He screwed the cap back on the flask. “Y’all know withcost overrunsthere wasn’t no money left to fix up anything.”

“What are you talking about?” Jenna asked. Her uncle had opened the door for her to ask about something besides dogs without it sounding like she was interrogating them. The way Junior had emphasized cost overruns sounded like he’d meant kickbacks.

Junior stilled. Across from him, Sam snorted. “Forgot you had a dep-u-ty here, didn’t you?”

12

In the minutes following Junior’s outbursts, it was like everyone was waiting for the other shoe to drop. The big man uncapped the bottle and took another sip. “Wasn’t talking about anything. Just repeating some rumors I heard.”

Jenna tried to recall the details of the dam project, but she’d been in middle school the first time she’d heard of a possible dam and then away from Pearl Springs at college when they started condemning the land, although she had been home for the summer when the men came through the county surveying land for the dam.

That year she’d skipped the summer session at Maryville to rest after a hard first year. By the time the dam was finished, she was a detective with the Chattanooga Police Department and rarely came home.

Jenna leaned forward. “I get you don’t like Carter, but if you thought Joe Slater was his partner, why’d you hang out with him?”

Junior gave her a slow smile. “Joe was one of those folks you couldn’t help but like—he just had a way about him. He was always helping people out, like Widow Thompson. Don’t know how many times he took her groceries and paid her utility bill.”

“And she wasn’t the only one he helped,” Todd said. “He—”

A long howl interrupted him, followed by more howls.

“That’s Thunder!” Her dad jumped to his feet. Every coon hunter knew their dog’s bark, and her dad was no exception. “He’s got him one treed.”

Suddenly a different kind of bark came from one of the dogs, a bark Jenna had never heard before.

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