Thirty-Five and a Half Conspiracies Page 15

While we drove to the factory, Mason gave me more details about his meeting the previous Friday. He and Joe had come up with multiple pieces of evidence to bring charges against Mason’s corrupt boss. The case had looked pretty solid, so Joe had convinced Mason to call in the special prosecutor. But as soon as the meeting had started, the investigator turned the tables and presented concocted evidence against Mason—all while Joe sat quietly and listened. When the investigator asked if Joe cared to refute the claims against Mason, he merely shook his head and said he had nothing to add.

It was compelling proof of something I still couldn’t bear to believe: Joe had sided with his father. I was equally furious and heartbroken.

Mason finished just as he pulled into the parking lot of the plant, parking in almost the same spot my truck had occupied only days ago.

“Why in God’s name did you agree to meet Hattie here?” Mason asked as he put the car into park. “This place is beyond creepy.”

I had to agree. The building was blackened and partially caved in, the glass busted out in many of the windows.

“I thought she had answers. Besides, she seemed harmless enough. I had no idea Beverly Buchanan and Dirk Picklebie were followin’ us.” I patted his arm reassuringly. “Besides, I’m fine, thanks to that Taser you got me. It saved my life.” I had it in my coat pocket now, mostly because of Mason’s insistence that I continue to carry it, but also because it gave me a small sense of security.

He scowled slightly. “Joe’s the one who got you the Taser.”

“At your insistence.” I’d had plenty of alone time to think about that as well. “I’m having a hard time understanding why Joe would follow through with arresting me, especially when only the day before he was thanking Neely Kate for watching out for me.”

“There’s no denying he loves you. Even if it’s in his own selfish way,” Mason said, looking out the windshield at the plant. “But he’s a slave to his father’s whims.”

Which meant I couldn’t trust Joe. Ever. “No more talk about Joe. If I ever see him again, it will be too soon. Right now we need to concentrate on his father.”

“And we still need to figure out who’s behind the alias Glenn Stout.”

I’d spent the entire twenty-minute drive searching the Internet for any information about the man. The only real hit I’d found in the Little Rock area was a Glenn Stout who had been thirty-two years old in the 1940 census. It was a pretty safe bet that the guy had been dead for a few years.

“Do we have any way of knowing whether the person who created the alias actually lives near Little Rock or has ties to it?”

Mason shrugged and grabbed his backpack from the backseat. “Not really. But I plan to talk to the clerk at the courthouse to see what she remembers about the man who posted the bail.”

“You think she’ll remember?”

“Without a doubt. One-million-dollar bail bonds are pretty rare, let alone ones that are delivered in cash. She’ll be talking about it for years.” He paused and turned to me. “In fact, maybe we should ask Neely Kate to talk to her.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She’s good at getting information, and besides, she probably already knows the clerk from working at the courthouse herself. Why don’t you get her started on it before we go inside?”

Looking at him in disbelief, I picked up my phone.

“Don’t look so surprised,” he said. “You’ve heard of the phrase ‘it takes a village.’ Well, I’m beginning to suspect it’s going to take a village to get you out of this mess.”

“Us,” I said, searching his face. “Someone is still after you, and I am certain J.R. is behind it. So it’s get us out of this.”

His gaze held mine and he nodded. “Okay. Us.”

He was usually so quick to deny that Joe’s father was as much a danger to him as he was to me. It felt like a huge step forward.

“Promise me you won’t pull any more chauvinist crap,” I said. “We’re partners all the way in this.”

His face softened. “Rose, I didn’t mean to come off as chauvinistic. And as far as I’m concerned, we’re already partners in this and everything else.”

I leaned over and gave him a kiss. “I can’t think of a single person I’d rather have as a partner.”

“Me either.” He gave me another kiss and then leaned back. “Now go ahead and call Neely Kate, then we’ll go inside and find this safe.”

I wasn’t surprised that she was short with me when she answered the phone. “Well, imagine that,” she grumbled. “You finally got around to calling me.”

“I’m sorry, Neely Kate. I should have called you sooner. There’s no excuse. I just wasn’t thinkin’ straight.”

“Obviously.” But the teasing tone in her voice let me know I was off the hook.

“I have a lot to tell you, but it will have to wait until later. Right now Mason and I have a request.” I shot a glance at him, and he nodded. “We’re trying to figure out who posted my bail. You would think a man who could post a million dollars would show up on an Internet search, but I can’t find anything about Glenn Stout from Little Rock. Can you look into it?”

“Mason asked for my help too?”

“He knows you’re good at this kind of thing. He’s the one who suggested it.”

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