Murder in the Smokies

Epilogue



Rachel Davenport’s silver Honda Accord sat parked next to her father’s old Volvo in the back lot of the trucking company. Most of the other employees had left at six, but George Davenport had always been a workaholic, from what Seth had learned over his time with the company, and his terminal cancer had only driven him to work that much harder, as time ran out on him.

Rachel’s mother had been gone since she was a teenager, and her father was fading away in front of her eyes. Now Mark Bramlett had ripped away four more people she was close to, including a woman who had almost been a second mother to her. And he’d done it deliberately, with Rachel’s heart in his crosshairs, because someone else had paid him to do it.

Seth wanted to know who.

His cell phone rang, giving him a small jolt. The name on the display evoked a grimace. Adam Brand. Mr. FBI himself.

He answered. “Yeah?”

“Hammond, it’s Brand.” The voice on the other end was deep, with a drawl that placed him squarely south of the Mason-Dixon Line. Brand was from Georgia, and over a decade in Washington hadn’t erased his drawl.

“So my phone says.”

“Did you know your sister’s on her way there?”

Seth arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, but how did you know? Never mind, need to know and all that.” After three years of doing jobs for Brand, Seth had grown used to working with only half the information he’d have liked to have. The secrecy wasn’t something he’d enjoyed, exactly, but he’d put up with it in order to have a chance to do something decent for a change.

But he wasn’t inclined to do more jobs for Brand after the last one.

“I have another job for you.”

Seth’s gaze slid back toward Rachel Davenport’s Honda. “I told you after last time, I’m not interested in doing any more jobs for you and the feds. Damned near lost my head that time.”

“This one shouldn’t be as dangerous,” Brand said firmly. “And you’re already uniquely positioned to do what I need.”

“Yeah?” The back door of Davenport Trucking opened and two people emerged, one gray and hunched, the other tall, slender and outwardly composed. But Seth knew if he were close enough to look into her blue eyes, he’d see Rachel Davenport’s fear and pain. She was trying so hard to be strong for her father and for herself.

And someone was trying damned hard to knock her down until she couldn’t get up again.

“I need you to find out who hired Mark Bramlett to kill the people around Rachel Davenport,” Brand said.

“How do you even know about that?” Seth asked, suspicious.

“I just spent a half hour on a satellite phone with Jesse Cooper,” Brand answered. “He’s apparently been talking to Sutton Calhoun, who told his boss everything that happened today. And given that surveillance job you did for us in Alabama last year—”

Phantom pain pricked his scalp at the mention of that particular job. “Not smart to remind me of that job again, Brand.”

“You’re good at lying low and getting information. That’s what we need in this case. I want someone who can keep an eye on Rachel Davenport and her family without drawing attention.”

“What’s it to you? Sutton Calhoun solved the murders. Isn’t that all the FBI should give a damn about?”

“The FBI isn’t involved in this one, Seth. This is for me.”

That was new. “Could I get arrested for any of this?”

“Not if you don’t break any laws.”

Easier said than done, Seth thought.

“Do you want the job?”

Seth looked across the parking lot. George Davenport insisted on driving himself while he still could, but it wouldn’t be long until he’d have to give in to his growing weakness. Rachel watched him drive out of the parking lot before she unlocked the Honda and slid behind the wheel.

He waited for her to start the car. But she just sat there a moment, her posture ramrod straight.

“Hammond?” Adam Brand prodded.

Rachel crumpled forward slowly, terribly, and buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook, and Seth felt a dart of pain in his own chest.

“I’ll do it,” he said aloud, his eyes never leaving the spectacle of grief playing out in front of him. “I’ll take the job.”

* * * * *