Missing in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law Mystery/Romance Series) (28 page)

She looked across the garage, silently willing Helena to stop stressing and make something happen. The instant the thought crossed her mind, the ghost stopped her whirlwind arm routine and looked her direction. Jadyn waved toward Maryse and Colt, hoping Helena would understand that she wanted her to abandon what wasn’t working and figure out some form of disruption now. A couple seconds later, Helena set off at a dead run. Jadyn prayed she had a plan but didn’t have much hope.

“I say we just kill them and get out of here,” Stepford said. “Every minute we’re in this town we risk exposure.”

“What about me?” Pickett said. “I’m not going to tell who you are—hell, I don’t even know who you are. What say you cut me loose and let me get back to work for the families?”

“No can do,” Ross said. “You’ve seen me and that makes you a threat. I don’t leave loose ends.”
 

Jadyn watched, helpless, as Ross leveled his gun at Pickett. Could she risk a shot now that Ross’s weapon wasn’t trained on Colt? She gripped her pistol and took aim through the tires, but no matter how she maneuvered the weapon, she didn’t have a clear shot at Ross. Too much of him was protected by the toolbox.

And then Helena struck.

The ghost managed to run—sorta—about halfway across the shop when her ankles and the pumps had a massive disagreement about gravity. Down she went in a fall so hard, Jadyn could practically feel it in her own bones. But the fall didn’t stop there. On her way down, she tipped over a box of parts and they spilled out, clanking in succession on the concrete floor. For her final parting shot, her right leg got tangled in power strip and she turned it on, activating a huge shop fan.

Things couldn’t have taken more than a couple of seconds, but to Jadyn, everything played in slow motion. Stepford set off in the direction of the noise. At the same time, Ross fired a shot at Pickett, who rolled to the side, narrowly missing being shot. Maryse ran for the back door as Colt sprang for a crowbar on the other side of the toolbox from Ross.

But he wasn’t going to make it.
 

Jadyn saw Ross’s pistol leveled at Colt, and she rushed around the side of the tires, but still didn’t have a clear shot. Desperate for anything to stop him from firing, she scanned the area surrounding Ross and zeroed in on a lift button on the wall. Without hesitating, she fired at the button.

The chain holding a car engine above Ross let go and the engine plummeted down, directly on top of Ross. Stepford turned around and spotted her, then started running in her direction. But the giant shop fan was his undoing. The wind current pushed the marbles from the gem bag across the floor in front of him. He took one step on the rolling glass, then another, and his legs flew out from under him.

He hit the ground as hard as Helena, but Stepford didn’t get up. He didn’t even move.

Jadyn ran around the tires and over to Stepford to relieve him of his pistol. Pickett still rolled around on the ground, screaming that he was shot. Colt gave him a glance before running behind the toolbox to check on Ross. When he walked back around, he looked at Jadyn and shook his head. She felt a bit of disappointment that Agent Ross wouldn’t answer for his crimes, but dead was just as effective. Stepford could answer for all their ills.
 

Sirens sounded close by as Maryse ran into the middle of the shop, sliding to a stop next to Pickett. “Is he all right?” she asked.

“The shot nicked him,” Colt said. “He’ll live.”

Maryse trotted up to Stepford and picked up his head then let it drop back down, his jaw smacking into the concrete. “Ooops. He slipped.”

“Uh-huh.” Jadyn grinned at Maryse.
 

“Sure,” Helena bitched. “Worry about everyone else while I’m tied up like a rodeo calf.”

Maryse coughed, covering her grin with her hand. Seconds later, the state police along with Colt’s deputies dashed in the back door.

As Colt doled out explanations and instructions, Maryse made her way over to Helena to untangle her from the cord. The last Jadyn saw of the ghost, she gave the cord the finger then stomped through the wall of the shop, probably headed straight to the hotel for cobbler and a hot shower.

“I’m innocent!” Pickett yelled as two paramedics lifted him from the floor. “I’m just a civilian caught in the middle. They have no proof.”

“We have video,” Maryse said.

Pickett whirled around to stare at her, his jaw dropped.

“Video of you going straight for the box on the gas tank and opening the bag inside,” Maryse said. “No jury in the world will believe it was an accident. I suggest you enjoy the last bit of freedom you’re ever going to have…in the hospital.”

Pickett’s shoulders slumped and he allowed the paramedics to lead him away. Two stunned FBI agents trailed behind. A couple of paramedics lifted a groggy Stepford onto a stretcher and hauled him out, along with the last two agents in Ross’s crew. They both looked shell-shocked, and Colt didn’t relish the questioning the agents would receive back at the bureau. Someone would have to answer for Ross’s ascension and their failure to notice that one of their own had been compromised.
 

Colt’s deputies stared down at Ross, shaking their heads.

“I can’t believe he was dirty,” Deputy Nelson said. “Did the engine just fall on him?”

Colt started to speak and Jadyn interrupted. “Yeah. It was weird, but really good timing.”

“I’ll say,” Deputy Nelson said. “Somebody should tell Marty to get that lift checked before it kills someone that matters.”

“I’ll be sure and do it,” Colt said.

Deputy Nelson gave them a nod and headed after the paramedics, carefully avoiding another look at Ross. He’d turned slightly green at the first one.

Colt turned to her. “Why didn’t you tell them you made that shot?”

“I don’t want the attention it would bring, especially from the FBI. If we don’t give them any reason to ask more questions, they’re probably going to retreat to their corporate headquarters and try to figure out how to spin the Ross problem.”

“True. I have to tell Marty something about his lift. The sheriff’s department will pay, of course, but he’ll want to know what happened.”

“Then tell him there was so much cross fire, we’re not sure,” Jadyn said. “I know sometimes it doesn’t seem like it, but I’m trying to have a relatively quiet existence in Mudbug.”

Colt smiled. “And this is the sort of thing small-town legends are made of.”

“Something like that.”

He leaned over and whispered, “Well, it was damned impressive.”

Jadyn smiled. “Yeah, it kinda was.”

Chapter Seventeen

At 10:00 a.m., Colt knocked on Bart’s front door, Jadyn standing beside him. It had been a long night of questioning with the FBI and the state police, but finally, everyone had seemed satisfied that they had the facts and a little more than depressed with the complicity of two FBI agents.
 

After all the activity, Colt thought he’d have no trouble falling asleep, but instead he’d lain in bed awake for at least another hour. His mind whirled with everything that had happened—Raissa’s kidnapping, the diamonds, the showdown in the garage, and the incredible shot that Jadyn made. The shot that quite literally saved his life.
 

Everything from start to finish had gone down so quickly that he hadn’t had time to process it all, much less dwell on the meanings and implications of everything that had happened. But in the quiet of his bedroom, it all came crashing back in a jumble, begging him to put it all into perspective.

The crime had been easy. He had plenty of experience processing criminal activity, even crimes that included dirty cops. Everything that had happened with Jadyn, however, was a whole different story, and one he hadn’t managed to classify before finally falling asleep near dawn.

“His truck’s here,” Jadyn said, after a minute of waiting with no answer.

Colt knocked again.

A couple seconds later, the sound of a power tool echoed from the shop.
 

“He must be working,” Colt said as he left the porch and headed for the shop. With every step, he imagined how this would go down. He hoped Bart wouldn’t cause any trouble, but if life had taught him one thing, it was that you never really knew someone.
 

Out of courtesy, he banged on the metal door. He hadn’t bothered with a warrant, but with Jadyn along, he didn’t need one. Her jurisdiction extended to Bart’s shop given that they had probable cause to believe this is where the crime originated. He waited several seconds, then banged again, figuring Bart might not be able to hear him over the tool noise.

A couple seconds later, the tool shut off and then Bart swung the door open. He looked tired and worried and when he focused in on them, both grew worse.
 

“Can we come in?” Colt asked.

He stepped back and they walked inside. In the center of the shop was a platform with some wheels on it. A large object just to the right was covered with a tarp. Colt frowned. He had hoped for cooperation, but he hadn’t expected Bart to invite them in to see him in the process of committing a crime.

Bart grabbed a rag and wiped his hands. “I hope you two aren’t here to grill me about my camp. I got detained yesterday by the New Orleans police because of that asshole from the FBI. I was ready to kill him.” He gave them a sheepish look. “I probably shouldn’t say that to the two of you.”

“Nobody likes Agent Ross,” Colt said.

Everything that had gone down the night before was all still very hush-hush. The FBI was in a panic, trying to figure out how they’d allowed a dirty agent to reach Ross’s position in the agency without anyone catching on, and their attorneys and public relations people were racing in damage control mode. The secret wouldn’t keep forever, but Colt had no problem keeping his mouth shut. The last thing he wanted to do was relive last night over and over again for every resident in Mudbug. The ole “I’m not allowed to talk about a federal investigation” excuse was the perfect out.

“We’re not here about the camp,” Colt said. “We’re here about the cars.”

Bart’s expression immediately shifted to fear. “What cars?”

“The cars you’ve been stealing and chopping. We’ve already seen the car parts, and we found what’s left of stolen cars dumped in one of the channels just west of here.”

Bart looked back and forth between them, his hesitation clear. Finally he sighed. “It wasn’t me.”

Colt frowned. “Don’t make it harder on any of us by lying.”

“I’m not lying.” He walked to a desk sitting on the front wall and pulled a plastic container out of the bottom drawer. “I have receipts for every part in this shop.”

Colt looked at Jadyn, whose eyes widened. She gave him a slight shake of her head, indicating she was just as confused as he was.

“I don’t understand,” Colt said. “Why would you buy used car parts when you don’t work on cars?”

Bart shuffled his feet, looking down at the concrete floor, then finally sighed. “I’ll show you, but if it’s possible, I don’t want anyone to know.”

“Ok,” Colt said. “If it’s possible.”

Bart started across the shop and waved them over to the tarp-covered object. He flipped the tarp over the edges of the object until he could pull the entire piece of plastic off to one side. Colt stared at the jumble of metal, completely confused.

Jadyn’s jaw dropped and she took one step forward, then ran her finger around a wheel. “It’s industrial art.”

Colt narrowed his eyes at the pile as Jadyn took a step back.

“It’s a skyline,” she said.

“Yeah,” Bart said, looking pleased. “It will be the Detroit skyline when I’m done.”

Colt stepped back next to Jadyn and looked at the mass of parts again, this time trying to view the entire thing rather than the individual pieces. He blinked a couple of times, then when his eyes cleared, the full effect of the piece came into focus.

“I see it now,” he said. “You mean to tell me you’ve been hiding artwork in here?”

“Yeah,” Bart said, a blush creeping up his neck. “I mean, Mudbug isn’t exactly the kind of place that a man wants to run around saying he’s an artist. Not if he plans on being treated like a man for very long.”

Colt nodded. It was unfortunate but probably true. Mudbug wasn’t exactly the artistic mecca of the South. “So do you sell these in art shops or something?”

“I did at first, but word got around and some people really liked the work, so now I mostly do commissioned pieces.”

Jadyn smiled. “That’s great. Where is this one going? Or can you say?”

“An automobile museum in Detroit,” Bart said. “This is my biggest commission so far. It’s kinda got me stressed.”

Jadyn nodded. “So the real reason you only work three days a week is because you’re doing this instead of construction.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“This is great,” Colt said, “and I don’t doubt it’s on the up and up, but someone in Mudbug
is
chopping cars.” He narrowed his eyes at Bart. “You didn’t seem surprised when I told you why I was here, which means you already knew about it. And I’m guessing you know who’s responsible.”