“About your father’s murder.” His gaze moved over my face. “I hope you know I wasn’t trying to be insensitive with my questions. But we needed information she had.”
“I know. It was hard, especially when y’all were talking about the mode of . . . you know. But I agree. And now I feel like we should’ve done something sooner. Why do I feel like they’re planning to arrest my momma any day now? And Cletus—” I stepped closer, lowering my voice even though he’d said no one was listening to the Winston house “—why are the FBI and DEA involved?”
“I’m still puzzling over the DEA and your house. I need to talk things over with Alex, see what he thinks. Speaking of which, let’s go back to the carriage house. I need to message him.” Cletus used his leverage on my hand to pull me to the kitchen table. He picked up the pictures of the rope and the list of suspects, tucking them in his back pocket. He then steered us to the back door.
“And the FBI?” I asked, following him outside.
“I suspect the FBI is invested in the case because of Repo.”
“How so?”
“The Iron Wraiths have been on the FBI’s radar for a long time. Repo knows where all the bodies are buried, but—more importantly—he’s the money man. I suspect they got a tip that Repo and your momma are involved. If I had to guess, and this is pure conjecture, I’d say they’re putting pressure on your mother to help them bring in Repo.”
“Ugh.”
“Like lining up dominoes. Diane is charged with Kip’s murder, first degree. They negotiate a lower charge—manslaughter, maybe—and she brings in Repo. Repo turns state’s evidence and brings down the Wraiths.”
“That man.” I ground my teeth, my temper spiking. “Why did he have to pick my mother?”
Cletus didn’t respond, so I inspected his profile. “Please. Don’t tell me you still think he loves her?”
“Then I won’t tell you.”
I pulled us to a stop. “Cletus. You can’t be serious.”
“I theorize the FBI thinks using your mother as leverage will make Repo turn state’s evidence. If I’m right, then Repo cares about your mother a great deal, enough to turn against his club brothers, and that’s no small thing.”
“He’s probably the one who shot my father in the first place. Maybe Repo doesn’t want my momma telling the FBI that. Maybe that’s why she won’t leave the house, because she’s afraid of him.”
“No.” Cletus shook his head. “No. I don’t think Repo shot your daddy.”
“Then why was he there? To see my mother?”
Cletus opened his mouth as though to answer, his eyebrows pulling together, but we were interrupted by Billy exiting the carriage house.
He stopped short at the sight of us, waited for a beat, then said, “Hello.”
“We’re staying for a bit, in the carriage house.” Cletus announced.
A little smile played over Billy’s lips. “Miss my company, Cletus?”
“No. Also, you’re walking Jenn down the aisle?”
My features twisted in an apologetic grimace, but Billy sent me a don’t worry about it look as he responded to his brother. “Yes, I have that honor.”
“You think you could also handle being my best man? If not, I’ll find someone else. Jenn’s request takes first priority.” Cletus crossed his arms, his tone and expression grumpy, and that made no sense.
As I looked at how Cletus held himself, stiff and straight and bracing, I saw the hint of vulnerability there. Of course Cletus was acting grumpy. He hated being vulnerable.
Billy, who knew Cletus and his moods better than anyone, including me, seemed to understand this too.
“I guess I’ll be doubly honored.” His smile grew soft and his eyes, always thoughtful but usually a bit aloof, warmed until they shimmered. “Thank you.”
“Well.” Cletus nodded, and kept on nodding. “You are welcome.”
“Does this mean I get to plan your bachelor party?”
“Never mind, I rescind the offer.”
Billy chuckled, finally walking toward his car. “Too late. I have Jenn as a witness. What’s done is done.”
Cletus turned as Billy brushed past. “This shall not stand!”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. I believe your stripper friend—George, right?—I believe he rappels from the ceiling, if memory serves. No standing involved.”
The rest of the weekend passed too quickly. I did end up going into the bakery and making Ashley those lemon custards, which I dropped off to Drew at their place before she’d returned home. Cletus and I spent the night in the carriage house both Saturday and Sunday but didn’t take that shower together. The second bedroom didn’t have an en suite bathroom. Out of respect for Billy and the thin walls, restraint was the order of the day.
Now, you might be thinking, This woman is nuts. Thinking about shower sex while her mother is being hustled by a criminal and being targeted by the FBI, her own home has been tapped by the DEA, and her father’s murder was just weeks ago. But, y’all, when shit is going down and there’s no way to stop it, you need nice things to look forward to.
For me personally, during these trying times, being close to Cletus was the nicest, best part of my day.
However, yes, I also thought it was nuts how often my mind wandered to thoughts of Cletus, naked, wet, in the shower, soap gliding along his—
OKAY! See? This is what I had to deal with. And don’t lie, now you’re thinking about it too. I think we can all agree, the man is distracting. Moving on.
Cletus and I did a lot of talking, and that was nice. But not much of it centered on my father’s unsolved murder until Sunday night. While getting ready for bed, Cletus had marched into the room and declared, “Elena did it.”
I’d been putting moisturizer on my face and turned from the mirror. “What?”
“Elena. She’s guilty.”
He hadn’t been forthcoming with any of his theories yet, saying he needed time to let it marinate, so this proclamation seemed significant. “You think Elena was the strangler?”
“Absolutely.”
“I think so too.” I set the moisturizer container down and finished rubbing it on my face as I rushed to say, “Let me tell you why.”
“Perfect. Tell me. I’m ready to compare notes.” Cletus sat on the mattress, giving me his full attention.
“A few things, actually. First, because of what you asked Ashley, about who was driving. You’re right, Jackson wouldn’t have let my daddy drive away drunk.”
“Excellent.” He gave me a single nod, looking proud.
“Elena must’ve been the one to drive, which means she turned them around and brought him back. My guess is she made sure he was good and drunk and helped him into the driver’s seat. Then she got in the back and—well, you know.”
“Exactly my thoughts.” Cletus twisted his lips to the side, inspecting me. “Are you okay?” he asked, then winced. “Sorry, I promised myself I wasn’t going to ask you that.”
I thought his question over. “I’m . . . not okay. But right now my focus is on clearing my momma’s name. And, on that note, the gloves are also weird.”