In High Cotton: Neely Kate Mystery #2

Regret washed over his face. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t trust this guy’s motives, but I need to put that on the back burner for now. Is the body in the same place?”

I studied him for a few seconds, starting to have second thoughts, but the dead man in my basement meant there was no going back. “The body can no longer be found.”

He started walking again, quiet for a few moments. “Who else knows you killed this man?”

“Branson’s brother. And Branson, since his brother is his bestie again.”

“And they could have told anyone. How do they know you killed him?”

“Beasley, that’s Branson’s brother, found me standin’ next to the body. He knew that the man I was with was plannin’ to hurt me, and he showed up because he felt guilty.”

He stopped walking again. “Plannin’ to hurt you?”

I didn’t stop. I just kept going and let him catch up.

“How did Beasley know that man was plannin’ to hurt you?”

“There was a contract,” I forced past a lump in my throat. “I refused to sign a waiver to let him do it, so I knew he was likely goin’ to kill me.”

“Why was he likely to kill you?”

My voice came out in a whisper. “He liked it rough. Really rough. No safe word.”

“So he raped you and beat you?”

My eyes burned as I nodded.

He turned and walked several feet away from me, then stopped and placed his palms on top of his head. After a few seconds, he spun around and asked in a tight voice, “Where is that contract now?”

“I don’t know.” Why hadn’t I thought of that? But I suspected Jed had. He wasn’t one to let things like that slide.

“If we can find that contract, we can prove self-defense, Neely Kate.”

“The man I killed was from oil money, Joe. His family put up a huge reward to find him. If word gets out that I killed him and then hid the body instead of callin’ the police, we both know what’s gonna happen to me. Who will they blame? An ex-stripper with a criminal record or the son of a mega-rich oil man?”

“Criminal record?”

My gaze dropped to the dirt path. “Shopliftin’ charge.”

“That’s nothin’, Neely Kate.”

I glanced back up at him. “We both know it’s enough. No one else can know I killed him.”

“So who do you think is in your basement?”

“I got a call yesterday—a Dallas number—warning me it was in my best interest to call the guy back. Bill”—I almost used Jed’s name—“said it was a number for a PI firm, but he wasn’t so sure it really was.” I pushed out a breath. “So we went to Little Rock and I insisted Kate tell me what she really knew. I told her that someone was askin’ around about me, but a guy had been asking about me around Ardmore, too, a few months ago, so it could have been Kate—”

“Or it could have been that you stirred something up just by showin’ up,” Joe finished.

“Yeah.”

“So who’s the guy in the basement?” he asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine, but I’d say it was the guy askin’ around.” I searched his face. “So what are you gonna do about the body?”

“Nothin’ yet.”

I stared up at him in shock. “You’re kiddin’ me.”

“I want to dig up more information before we report it.” When I started to protest, he held up a hand. “The guy is dead, Neely Kate. One or two days isn’t gonna change anything.”

“But…”

“You and Rose need to find somewhere else to stay until we figure out what to do. You can stay with me—Kate escapin’ is a good excuse—but Rose…”

“Rose already has plans for the weekend. After the stress of Violet dyin’ and our case goin’ sideways a couple of weeks ago, she’s goin’ out of town to get away.”

“By herself?” he asked in surprise.

Torn between lying to him and finding a way to evade his questions, I was relieved when his phone began to ring.

He pulled it out and frowned.

“You’re up early, Deveraux,” he said in a sarcastic tone as he answered.

Mason. Why was Mason calling him so early? But my question was almost immediately answered.

“Yes, I’m well aware that my sister has escaped, and no, I saw no reason to notify you. I was more concerned about Neely Kate’s welfare.” He paused and rolled his eyes. “She’s fine, but I ran over to see her for myself. I would have informed you after I dealt with my family business.” He paused again; then his face hardened. “No. You do not need to come over to her house.”

What? Why would Mason be concerned about me? But as soon as the thought popped into my head, I felt guilty. Mason had been a good friend while he was with Rose, and even before. I wasn’t surprised he was worried about me, but the real question was how he found out so soon.

Joe pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the screen. “Dammit. Mason’s on his way over. He says he’s been trying to call both you and Rose, and since neither one of you answered, he started heading your way.”

“We need to get back and warn Rose,” I said.

He nodded, and we walked back at a quicker pace than we’d started out. Mason’s car pulled down the driveway as we walked out of the path in the field, the opening about twenty feet from the back of the house.

“We can’t let him know about the broken window in the basement,” Joe said. “Otherwise, he’s gonna insist on searching the house, and there’s no way I can hide the body then.”

“I don’t expect you to, Joe. Maybe we should just come clean.”

“No.” His response was terse. “We’ll discuss this after he leaves. Let’s go try to keep him on the front porch.”

We hurried past the side of the house, toward the front yard, as Mason got out of his car and started to walk toward us… which would take him right past the broken window.

I was starting to sweat it, but then I heard Rose call out from the porch, “What the Sam Hill do you think you’re doin’, Mason Deveraux?”

He stopped and turned to face the front door. “Checking on you.”

“Then why are you snoopin’ around the side of my house?”

I truly believed that Mason was here out of concern for our safety and not for devious reasons, which was why I felt compelled to intervene. “He was comin’ to meet me,” I said as I reached the front corner of the house, trying not to show my relief.

Rose was standing at the top of the front steps with sopping wet hair, a tank top, and a pair of jean shorts, cradling a shotgun in her arm.

“The real question is why you’re greeting me with a gun,” Mason said.

“Haven’t you heard?” she asked in a hard tone. “Kate Simmons has escaped. The last time the two of us met, she tried to kill me. I’m not getting caught off guard this time.”

“Well, I don’t have her in the backseat of my car, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said in a dry tone, “so you can put your weapon away.”

“Rose,” Joe said in warning.

She lowered the gun barrel. “Sorry for overreacting when you turned onto the property. I’m nervous.”

Mason’s face softened. “And that’s why I’m here. I wanted to make sure the two of you are okay.”

“We’re fine,” I said in a friendly tone. “Joe told us about Kate, and we’ll be on the lookout.”

“Lookout?” Mason asked in disbelief, then turned to Joe. “They need to be protected.”

Joe’s chest puffed up like a bantam rooster. “Are you tryin’ to tell me how to do my job, Deveraux?”

“If protecting them wasn’t obvious to you, then yeah, I am.”

I pushed out a breath of frustration. “Mason, Joe has this covered. Your job is at the courthouse, not Rose’s farm.”

His jaw tightened. “Need I remind you that I was part of Kate’s plot? She kidnapped and planned to kill me too.”

I walked over to him and wrapped my hand around his upper arm. “You’re right. I’m sorry we haven’t been more understanding.”

He glanced down at me, then flicked his gaze to Joe. “What were you two doin’ in the field?”

“That’s none of your business, Mason,” Rose said, sounding pissed.

While I understood her animosity—he’d threatened her if she got in the way of his investigations—we didn’t need to antagonize him. Only she didn’t know that.

“It’s okay,” I said, tightening my grip. “I was upset, so Joe suggested we take a walk to help ease my anxiety.”