Fatal Legacy (Otter Creek Book 4) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  About the Author

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  About the Author

  FATAL LEGACY

  Rebecca Deel

  Editor: Jack Williams

  Cover Design by Melody Simmons from eBookindiecovers

  Copyright © 2015 Rebecca Deel

  All rights reserved.

  To my sons.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Del Peterson grabbed empty book boxes from the back of her SUV, pushed them into the hands of her cousin, Ivy Monroe, and moved the remaining boxes to the ground before closing the hatchback. The sultry July afternoon generated heat and humidity typical in Otter Creek, Tennessee, and had baked the area in unrelenting waves with no rain for three weeks and none predicted in the near future. Out of her vehicle for two minutes, she needed another shower, this time a cold one.

  “This is a massive house, Del. I’ll bet the library has more than a couple bookcases. You sure we have enough boxes?” Ivy’s voice registered her skepticism.

  Del eyed the gray stone structure as they crossed a flagstone path and climbed stairs to the shadowed porch. “Judge Reece says I won’t be interested in his mother’s entire book collection. She was an eccentric collector.”

  “Is that a nice way of saying she never threw any books away, whether they were good or not?”

  She shifted her load of boxes to one hip and rang the doorbell. Big Ben chimes sounded from the interior of the house. Behind her, Ivy laughed. Del’s lips curved. Mrs. Reece had been one of her best customers at Otter Creek Books. Widowed three times, each husband left her a tidy fortune which she invested even as she reclaimed her first husband’s last name. The octogenarian had stopped in every couple weeks to buy more books. She had loved murder mysteries.

  Similar to a very handsome cop who stopped in every few days as well. Josh Cahill hadn’t shared Mrs. Reece’s tastes for cozy mysteries, though. He preferred edgier, hard-boiled mysteries and thrillers.

  Del dragged her attention back to her cousin’s question. “Mrs. Reece kept the books she enjoyed. The rest she traded for newer books or donated to the library. Judge Reece wants me to evaluate his mother’s hardback collection for him. He reads biographies and history, and wouldn’t know if a mystery is valuable or not. I’m to give him an estimate of the value and tell him which volumes to keep.”

  A shadow darkened the frosted glass. Judge John Reece opened the door and motioned them into the foyer. “Thanks for coming out so quickly.”

  “Your mother was one of my favorite people. We had some long conversations discussing books we read.”

  “Her death was quite a shock.” Reece shook his head, eyes shadowed with sorrow. “Mother lived in this house 50 years and had never fallen down either of the staircases, even when she was pregnant.”

  “Do the police know what happened?” Ivy asked.

  “They think she stumbled in the dark, perhaps tripped on her robe’s hem.” He sighed. “Well, come to the library. Mother had a lot of books. I’m afraid you have much work ahead of you.”

  “I visited your mother several times, Judge Reece. And you’re correct. This will take several hours.” Del and Ivy trailed the judge down the marble floor hallway. He opened another door and ushered them inside.

  Two stories of books, paperbacks, hardbacks, every imaginable color and size, greeted Del’s gaze. Nothing in the church-sized room was out of place. Serious book envy hit Del again. “Incredible.”

  Ivy dropped the load of boxes she’d carted in. “Judge Reece, I didn’t realize your mother had so many books.”

  He laughed. “Most people collect normal things like coins or stamps. Mother collected books.”

  Del placed her own boxes on the floor and moved further into the room. She knew several customers who would love to boast about a library like this. “When do you need the assessment completed?”

  “I’m here until the end of the week. After that, I’m due in court.”

  “We’ll do our best.” Three days. She was glad to have Ivy help with the mammoth task.While her cousin was a rabid romance fan, she had read her share of mysteries over the years as well. All Del needed was an extra pair of hands to help her sort paperbacks and pack them for transport to her store.

  “I know I asked you to assess the value of Mother’s hardback collection, but as you’re sorting, would you mind boxing them? I thought I would have enough time to do it myself, but I have business to complete before I return to D.C.”

  Del and Ivy exchanged a look. No way she and her cousin could manage the task by themselves. “We need more boxes and more help to finish in time.”

  “Bring whatever help you need.” Judge Reece dug into his jacket pocket and handed Del a key. “I’ll be in and out until my flight home. This will make it convenient for you to sort and pack around your own schedule instead of mine. I realize you still have a business to run. I have book boxes stacked in the formal dining room. At the hallway, turn left and go straight back. Dining room is on the left.” He glanced at his watch and grimaced. “I’m meeting with Mother’s lawyer in a few minutes. I’ll grab my briefcase and go. Lock up when you leave.”

  Del stared at the judge’s retreating back.

  “We’ll need an army to box these books by Friday.”

  “I’ll ask Madison and Nick if they will help after the store closes.” Madison Santana, Del’s business partner, and her husband, Nick, had become good friends over the past year.

  “Maybe they’ll bring Madison’s brother. With all those muscles, he’s perfect to haul heavy bo
oks around.” Ivy grinned. “Perhaps he’ll grab a certain smitten bookseller, throw her over his shoulder and ride off with her.”

  Del frowned at her cousin. “Grab a box.”

  She studied the room’s layout. The hardbacks occupied the top three shelves of each bookcase. The other shelves held paperbacks of all colors and sizes. Hardbacks first, she decided. The paperbacks were unlikely to be valuable, just well loved by the appearance of some of them. She spotted a step ladder with rollers near the far wall.

  “Where do we start?” Ivy bent and lifted a stack of empty boxes.

  “Left side behind the door. Hardbacks first.” Del walked to the ladder and pushed it across the room. “Let’s grab my laptop and our water from the car. After, why don’t you find more boxes? The ones we brought are good for paperbacks, but not the heavy books.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain, ma’am.”

  Del rolled her eyes and retraced her steps down the hall with Ivy close behind. At the front door, hand on the knob, she heared a peculiar coughing noise. “What was that?” She turned, searched the darkened hallway.

  “I don’t know.” Ivy started down the hall, stopped. “Should we check on him?”

  No more coughing. “Must not be serious.” She shrugged. “We’ll check if we hear anything else.” Del walked out the front door and stepped into nature’s sauna. She unlocked her SUV and, after handing a bottle of water to her cousin, took a minute to drink half a bottle of water and retrieve her laptop from the backseat. As she closed the door and relocked her vehicle, an engine revved nearby. A black truck rolled down the street in front of Mae Reece’s house. At first, Del thought it was Judge Reece going to his meeting, but the driver had dark hair where the judge had snow white hair. The driver, face shadowed by the bill of his ball cap, scowled in their direction and accelerated.

  “Who was that?” Ivy asked, her gaze tracking the truck until it turned right at the corner. “Not your biggest fan, is he?”

  “I’ve never seen him before.” She led the way to the library. “Once I set up my computer, we’ll start.” Good thing she charged her laptop before leaving home this morning. Del unzipped her case, pulled the laptop from inside, and flipped up the lid. Computer ready, she turned toward the hallway.

  Ivy climbed down the ladder with an armload of books. Del hustled to the foot of the ladder. She reached up. “Let me have those. You should have waited for me.”

  Ivy laughed. “Yeah, like we have so much time to waste. Can you believe the judge wants us to box this whole library? There has to be over 30,000 books in here.”

  Del scanned the shelves again. Ivy’s estimate might be conservative. “We’ll draft help. I’ll climb the ladder and hand books to you. Record the books. I’ll look up their values later.” That part of her job might have to wait until the judge returned to the nation’s capital. “You type faster that I do.”

  “Some excuse. You want your hands on those books instead of the keyboard.”

  Del grinned. “Caught me.”

  They worked for over an hour before they were interrupted by the phone ringing. Del had just climbed off the ladder to give her legs and back a break and was nearest the phone. It kept ringing.

  “Should we answer it?” Ivy asked. “Maybe it’s Judge Reece.”

  “You might be right.” She reached for the handset. “Reece residence.”

  “Good afternoon. I’m looking for Judge Reece.”

  Del searched the desk for paper and pen. “He’s in a meeting. I’m not sure when he’ll return. I can take a message.”

  Silence greeted her for a moment. “I see. My name is Seth Brady. Judge Reece was supposed to meet with me an hour ago about his mother’s estate. Will you have him call my office to reschedule?”

  “Sure. I’ll leave him a note.” Puzzled, Del clicked off the handset and wrote the message on a piece of paper she found in a desk drawer. She turned to her cousin. “That was the lawyer’s office. Judge Reece didn’t show for his appointment.”

  “Wonder what happened?”

  She headed for the door. “I’ll leave the note on the desk in the office. That’s the most likely place for him to see it.” Del headed down the hall, checking doorways as she passed various rooms. She located the dining room with the huge pile of book boxes. They would need all those and more to box the books.

  She located the office across the hall from the dining room. Del cleared the threshold and stopped, nose wrinkling. What was that smell? Reminded her of a sewer. She crossed the room and laid her note on the desk. She turned to leave and saw a pair of men’s shoes on the floor.

  Del froze. Cold chills surged up her back. She forced herself closer to the shoes. Rounding the desk, she froze. Hands clamped to her mouth, she backed away from the sight of Judge Reece sprawled on the floor, a red hole in his forehead, a pool of blood under his head.

  Joshua Cahill crawled closer to his quarry. As long as the culprit didn’t go any further, this call was almost a wrap. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear he heard his six foot four brother-in-law laughing from across town in his town council meeting. Ethan Blackhawk, police chief of Otter Creek and husband to the youngest of Josh’s triplet sisters, Serena, had tangled with this problem many times over over the past two years.

  You would think Mrs. Wilson would be more careful. He huffed out an exasperated breath when the object of this call stared at him in disdain. “Come here, Fluffy. Your human mom is about to have a heart attack worrying you’ll fall from the tree.” In Josh’s opinion, if the cat climbed up into the tree, he could climb down when he wanted. Fluffy was a dumb name for a male cat. Maybe Fluffy hid in the maple tree so often because his name embarrassed him.

  Josh adjusted his legs for a more secure hold on the tree limb and reached into his shirt pocket for his stash of cat treats. Nothing else worked in getting Fluffy from the tree unless the fire department came with the ladder truck. Unfortunately for him, the guys were out on a call. A brush fire out on Highway 36. With this extended dry spell, the firemen had been busy.

  He extended his arm, cat treat in his hand. “Come here, buddy.” Fluffy gave a dainty meow and crept closer to Josh’s hand. “That’s it, fur ball.” As soon as Fluffy crawled within reach, Josh lifted the feline into his arms and fed him the treat. He took a minute to scratch the sweet spot on the cat’s head and was rewarded with a rumbling purr.

  With a soft chuckle, he shifted the cat to one arm and scooted toward the tree trunk and ladder. A minute later, Josh placed the tabby into Vera Wilson’s arms.

  “Oh, thank you, Officer Cahill. Fluffy was so scared.”

  Josh restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “Not a problem, ma’am. How did he escape this time?”

  “I was unloading groceries and he darted from the kitchen, to the garage, and into the yard.”

  He studied Mrs. Wilson’s vehicle. “You have a small car. Why don’t you close the garage door before you unload groceries? Maybe we’ll keep Houdini in the house that way.”

  “Why, I didn’t think of that, young man. Yes, I think I will try that.”

  “Excellent. I’d better get back on patrol, Mrs. Wilson. See you later.”

  “Thanks, again.”

  One more scratch, this time under Fluffy’s chin, and he slid behind the steering wheel of his vehicle. Josh grabbed a bottle of water and polished it off before notifying dispatch he was back on patrol. As he drove down the street, he grinned. If his Delta team could have seen him rescuing a cat that probably didn’t want to be rescued, they’d have been rolling on the ground, howling with laughter. Yeah, tough former Delta warrior Josh Cahill, now a tree climber, cat rescuer, and ticket writer. This job was not in the same league with his Delta years.

  It was good to be home, though. Much as he’d loved the adrenaline ride of Delta, Josh had missed his parents and sisters. Eight years in the Rangers and five in Delta was enough. He’d lost many good friends in the Sand Box. After his leg injury, he’d known it was time t
o step out and let younger men take the lead. The Army had agreed and released him. Had to admit, though, he missed the action. Pulling over DUIs and chasing down speeders just didn’t have the same adrenaline rush as facing insurgents with an RPG aimed at you.

  He drove down Main and headed toward the town square. Braked at a stop sign, dispatch broke into the radio chatter.

  “Unit 6.”

  Josh grabbed his radio handset. “Unit 6. Go ahead.”

  “10-59 at 3365 Morningstar Lane.”

  “10-4.”

  Josh flipped on his lights and sirens, turned right and stomped the accelerator. He swerved around vehicles that were too slow to merge right, frowning. A dead body at the Reece place? Who could it be? Mae Reece had passed away a week ago. The whole town had turned out for her funeral. He half listened to the radio chatter, but heard no further information.

  Two minutes later, he pulled into the long driveway of the Reece estate and stopped behind a familiar SUV. His gut tightened. Couldn’t be, he told himself. Ivy Monroe barreled out the door and vaulted down the steps toward him.

  He shoved open his driver’s door and met Del’s cousin at the foot of the stone stairs. “Ivy, you okay?”

  She nodded, eyes wide. “It’s Del.”

  Josh’s heart squeezed. No, not Del. “Where is she?” He couldn’t lose anyone else.

  “Follow me. I’m too rattled to give you directions. You’d end up in the Bermuda Triangle if I tried.” She darted ahead, through the double doors and turned left into another room.

  Library, Josh noted as he scanned the room, hand on his weapon. He spotted Del, arms curled around her stomach, shoulders hunched tight, seated in an armchair near the window. Thank God. He knelt in front of her. With a soft voice, he said, “Hey.”

  Del stirred, lifted her gaze to his. Her face was colorless, eyes vacant.

  Definitely in shock. He could help with that, but he needed information first. “Del, are you okay?”

  She blinked.

  Josh took her hands in his. Ice cold. He squeezed. “Are you hurt?”

  Another blink, then she shook her head. A deep breath. “Josh?”