Cover Your Eyes (Morgans of Nashville #1)

“You think Jeb and Annie had a thing going? Did they ever sleep together?”


“The way Jeb talked about her, you’d think they was knocking boots, if you know what I mean. He was always talking about how pretty she was and he described her body as if he’d seen it naked enough times.”

“Did he say they were lovers?”

“He said it enough times but none of us at the bar believed him. I mean how could a loser like him land a beauty like her?”

“It’s happened.”

“Maybe. Whether he slept with her or not he wanted to real bad and he thought he kind of had a right to her. In his mind she was his.”

Jeb, guilty or not of murder, had been stalking Annie. There’d been enough evidence at his trial to prove that beyond a shadow of a doubt. And stalkers did turn on their victims when watching no longer was enough. Murder was the ultimate control over an individual. “Did he say anything after news of her murder hit the papers?”

“Oh, he was all tore up. Balled like a baby. Odd to see a tough guy like him crumble.” Max cocked his head. “Funny he should blubber when he killed her.”

Not funny or odd at all. Killers often felt remorse for a victim they’d killed in a moment of anger. “How’d you figure the tire iron was in his trunk?”

“He told me he’d done something bad. Wouldn’t say what it was but he said it was bad. From there I put two and two together.”

“You called Buddy and told him you had a tip on the case.”

“That’s right.”

“Why’d it take you four days to talk to Buddy?”

“’Cause it didn’t make sense for me to talk until I was in trouble. A good card player keeps his hand close to his vest until the time is right.”

“So you were in trouble and needed a way out. And you happened to have information on the most publicized case in the city.”

“Better to be lucky than smart, I always say.”

“Oh, no, you hit the jackpot that go-around. Did Jeb ever tell you why he cut up the body or where he dumped the head and arms?”

Max sat back. “I’ve been giving you a lot of good information and I’m now wondering what am I getting in return?”

“So far you’ve given me what’s in the public record. I could have gone to the courthouse and pulled the transcripts and gotten the same information.”

Rick shifted behind him, his impatience palatable. “He doesn’t know anything.”

Max glared at him with the eyes of a seasoned player. “I told you what I remembered.”

“Bullshit,” Rick said.

Max wagged a long pale finger bent and turned with arthritis. “Maybe I do. Plus I’ve info on a drug deal that will be going down on Broadway.”

“I’m not here for the drugs, Max. I’m here about Annie Dawson. Jeb swore he never killed her. If he felt as bad about her death as you say then he’d have said more.”

“He gave me a few clues.”

“Such as?”

“I’m not telling until I get some kind of promise.”

Deke rose from his chair and glanced at Rick. “We’re done here.”

Rick nodded. “He’s full of shit.”

The two brothers moved to the door. The sound of Max’s chains clinked as he pounded the table. Fury blazed in his eyes. “You can’t leave me like this! I can help you!”

Deke reached for the door. “I bet if I leave you in a cell for a few more days and you can’t get a fix, you’ll be one hurting guy.”

“That’s not right. That’s torture!”

“I’m hearing noise now, Max.”

Rick chuckled. “I hear withdrawal is a bitch.”

Deke shook his head. “I sure as hell would hate to go through it. Throw up, shakes, and sometimes they see spiders and bugs that ain’t there.”

Max swallowed and rubbed a shaking hand over his forehead as if he’d travelled this road before. “Okay, okay.”

With his hand on the door, Deke hesitated. “Okay what?”

“I might remember where he dumped Annie’s head.”

“You might?” Rick snorted. “Not good enough.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you exactly where.”

Rick shook his head. “It’s been thirty years. I don’t think he remembers. He wants out of that cell so bad he’ll make up any story.”

Bloodshot eyes seized onto Deke. “No. That ain’t true! I know stuff.”

Deke yawned and checked his watch. “Then why didn’t you play the card sooner, Max? Why wait until now?”

“’Cause it’s been thirty years and I didn’t think anybody cared about yesterday’s news.”

Deke folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. “Where’s the skull?”

“If I tell you, will you let me out of here?”

“If I find what I’m looking for, I surely will let you out of here. But if I don’t then you’ll stay put for a real long time.”

“That’s not fair! I can’t help if the terrain has changed over the years. Nashville has grown a lot.”

Deke smelled lies on Max. Stinking lies. And he wondered if the con man had ever had information. Maybe Max had played Buddy thirty years ago. Buddy wasn’t the kind of cop to let a drunkard lead him by the nose, but he’d been desperate and under a lot of pressure. And desperate men made bad decisions. “Where’s the head?”

“It’s off I-40. Near exit 201.”

“That’s not very precise.”

Max’s hands trembled. “The skull is there, I tell you. I remember. Near a tree.”

Rick’s gaze sharpened as it had when he was a cop. “A tree off Exit 201. That’s bull. Those directions are worthless.”

“Take me there. I’ll show you. I know if I see it I will find the spot.”

This all smelled wrong. “Why didn’t you ever tell Buddy?”

Max sniffed. “Like I said, I figured the day would come and I’d have to play the card.”

“There’s a lot of houses in that area,” Deke said.

“Not when Jeb buried it.”

This stunk. “I’ll be back.”

Max’s cuffs rattled as he sat straighter. “What’s that mean?”

“It means if I find what I’m looking for, I’ll let you out.”

“Aren’t you gonna let me out of jail so I can show you?”

“Nope. And if you’re lying to me you’re gonna be here as long as I can keep you here.”

Max fisted his hand, clenching until his knuckles whitened. “If you’ll get me out of here, I’ll lead you to your skull. Go on and see. Off Dabney Road, near a gas station.”

Deke moved toward Max. “You’re lying.”

Max’s gaunt face turned ashen. “I ain’t.”

Rick laughed as if Max’s words reminded him of a child’s statement.

Deke grinned. “I can smell it. Rot and stench. Lies.”

Max chewed on his thumbnail. “I heard there was a skull there.”

Heard. Didn’t see. “When did you hear?”

“Back in the day. Jeb must have mentioned it.”

The waters grew murkier and murkier. “Tell me now, Max. Did you lie about Jeb and the tire iron all those years ago?”

“No! They found it in his car, didn’t they?”

Deke crossed to the table, planted his hands on it and leaned toward Max. “Did you put it there?”

Mary Burton's books