Page 133 of Long Gone

He drew in a breath and slowly released it. “Simmons owned one of the judges in the county as well as the DA. Deveraux was new to the county and was a by-the-books kind of guy. It didn’t take him long to realize something was fishy in the county courthouse. Simmons wasn’t pleased and decided Deveraux needed to be eliminated.” He lifted his glass. “It’s more complicated than that, but it’s enough of an overview to tell you what you need to know.”

“So Deveraux used his girlfriend to get to Simmons?” I asked in disbelief.

He shook his head. “Deveraux had no idea what she was up to until the end. In fact, her participation in the takedown cost Rose her relationship with him.”

Dammit. Now I really regretted making that call to Mason Deveraux. “And you’re not going to tell me how you became allies in this endeavor?”

“It’s not important.” He took a sip of his whiskey. “But that answers your question of how I came to work with Rose Gardner. She was a tool to help bring down my enemy.”

Something about the way he said her name suggested she had meant more than that, but I let it go. There was a bigger question to ask. “Why were you so dead set on bringing down J.R. Simmons?”

“Because he was a cancer that had infiltrated most of the state and I wanted him out of my county. Unfortunately for him, that meant he had to be eliminated.”

“Was he trying to encroach on your criminal activities?”

“My alleged criminal activities,” he said before he took another sip.

“Alleged,” I amended absentmindedly. “Was he really all that bad?”

He lowered his glass. “He was a nightmare. You’ll likely never meet a more vindictive, petty, sorry excuse of a man who took great pleasure in inflicting pain on others.” He paused. “Even his own kids.”

“Joe Simmons? The sheriff of Fenton County?”

“Someone’s been doing her homework,” he muttered as he took another drink. Then he lowered the glass and held my gaze. “J.R. Simmons took great joy in raping and killing and flat out torturing anyone who stood in his way. Including children.”

I’d seen how disgusted he was by my sister’s rapist and murderer. He looked just as pissed now.

“Simmons wanted me gone just as much as I wanted him gone. It was a death match.”

“Why would he want you gone?” I asked. Then it hit me. “Oh. You stood in his way.”

He gave me a smirk. “I didn’t approve of his methods. He wanted in my county, and I wanted him out. So yes, I stood in his way.”

“You had it out for J.R. Simmons,” I said, trying to work this through. “Simmons is dead, so why are you so interested in Hugo Burton’s murder? Do you plan to enact some type of revenge against the man’s children?”

Oh. God. What if he was? I wouldn’t condone that at all.

He released a bitter laugh. “As you already stated, his son is the sheriff of Fenton County, and although not as straight and narrow as you used to be, he has a strong sense of right and wrong. Unjustified murder and harming others for the joy of it isn’t his thing.” He took another sip, finishing off his glass. “Simmons’s daughter is dead, but she was a piece of work when she was alive. Her father made her the psychopath that she was.” He got up and walked to the dry bar. “I have no quarrel with Joe Simmons.”

“So why are you interested in this case?” I asked again.

He poured whiskey into his glass. “Simmons Sr, might be dead, but his dynasty didn’t get stamped out with him.”

“So you’re after whoever took over?”

He set down the decanter and looked at me. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I suspect they’re just as evil as Simmons.”

Why did he suspect the person who’d taken over was evil? I made a note to myself to look up murders and missing people over the past five years.

He walked back over with both the glass and the decanter and set the decanter on the side table next to him. “Now tell me how else your father was involved with J.R. Simmons.”

I took a sip of my drink, barely restraining myself from closing my eyes to savor the rich warmth as it passed my lips.

“My father did some legal work for J.R. Simmons,” I said. “Simmons asked him to work on some contracts for him. My father also told Simmons about Hugo’s investment property. Dad had no idea if Simmons invested, but the day after Hugo’s disappearance, Simmons called and said someone was coming to clean out Hugo’s office and Dad was to let them in.”

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