Rising Hope by Edie James

37

Rollo eyedthe chaos that was his father’s living room. Built for the large families of generations past, the ranch house wasn’t a small place, but the buzz of outrage ringing through the open great room made him want to clap his hands over his ears.

Dante had the intruder by the collar, his other fist pulled back, ready to strike. Teo struggled to hold his brother back while Noah patted the intruder down. Alyssa clutched Wren’s arm, her face a mask of shock, and concern.

Rollo groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

That an Archer would even set foot on MacKenzie property was bad enough, but Dante had found the guy reaching into Emmie’s car. Was Archer insane?

Alyssa pushed her way between Noah and Teo. “Don’t hurt him,” she insisted.

Rollo didn’t know Skeet. The guy was closer in age to Emmie and Enzo. But he was Alyssa’s former brother-in-law. Both early settlers in the area, the Archers and the MacKenzies had feuded off and on ever since The Cove’s founding a hundred and fifty years ago. Even if the families weren’t enemies, Skeet’s older brother was the man who’d killed their mother in a drunk driving accident. If the crash that swept both vehicles over the oceanside cliff was an accident.

Archer wriggled in Dante’s hold. “I wasn’t trying to steal her car,” he insisted. “I’m not a moron.”

Their father set his gun on a side table and shot Rollo a look that suggested he didn’t agree with Archer’s self-assessment.

Hands up, Rollo strode up to the guy. “Let him go,” he ordered Dante.

The old Dante would have argued, but he simply let go of the man’s collar and stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest. Rollo lifted a quick word of thanks to his Savior and zeroed in on their intruder. The permanent tan and the calloused feet marked Archer as a lifelong waterman.

Only today, instead of a mellow vibe, the guy radiated concern sprinkled with a healthy dose of anger. Rollo studied his face. Not anger exactly. Outrage.

Interesting.

Rollo rocked back on his heels, diving straight into interrogation mode. “What’re you doing here, Archer?”

The guy’s gaze swept over him before settling somewhere out over his left shoulder. “I wanted to leave her a note.” He jutted his chin at Emmie.

All eyes flew to their baby sister. She looked as shocked as they did.

“Why?” She fired off the question, leaving little doubt as to her opinion of Archers in general, and maybe this Archer in particular.

“We need to talk,” the guy muttered, clearly wishing he wasn’t being scrutinized by three generations of MacKenzies while he pleaded his case.

Emmie’s nose wrinkled. “What about?”

He took a step toward her, but Dante and Teo hauled him back, digging their fingers into his shoulders. He shook them off. For the first time since he’d been dragged inside, he eyed the rest of the family, his gaze intense. Unfriendly. “You’re digging into the accident.”

Their father stiffened, his cheeks flushing a deep red. “You bet we are. My wife died that night.”

Archer ducked his head, nodding hard. “I’m sorry for your loss, sir. I know JJ was responsible. I’m not trying to imply that he wasn’t.”

“Then what are you doing here?” Teo’s tone dripped with disdain.

Rollo held his breath, wondering if the guy planned to bolt, but he must have read the room enough to realize at least four MacKenzies would drop him before he made it an inch.

Archer pinned Rollo with a defiant look. “I’m trying to protect my family. The same way you’re protecting yours.”

Whatever that meant. Rollo struggled to see the guy’s angle, but Emmie found her tongue first.

She shoved her hands on her hips and stared the guy down. “What are you saying?”

Archer glared back. The guy had more guts than a lot of folks. Rollo would give him that. “My cousin Deanna’s running for state senate. She’s a good woman. I need to know you’re not just dredging up dirt to bury her with.”

The room quieted enough that Rollo detected the soft thump of his father’s rubber-tipped cane. He closed in on Archer. “We’re looking for the truth. Wherever it leads.”

Teo and Dante closed in, flanking their father.

This time, Archer didn’t back away. He gave their dad a grudging smile. “Understood. And agreed.”

Then Skeet lifted his chin, zeroing in on him and Emmie.

She and Enzo and Skeet were the closest in age, but Skeet’s mother moved him out of town before high school, after her contentious divorce from Hilton. His mother was Archer’s third wife. Word was Skeet had been somewhat of a surprise, what with a mother in her forties and a father pushing sixty. His half-brother, JJ, was at least five years older. There were others, too. Like the MacKenzies, the Archers had large families.

Emmie got right to the point. “What were you looking for in my car?”

“I wasn’t looking for anything.” He shoved a hand in the pocket of his faded shorts and pulled out a balled up note. “You being a lawyer now, I figured you’d be willing to listen to reason.” He turned his attention to the rest of them. “If you’re planning to drag Deanna into this… If you’re trying to lump her in with JJ…”

“We’re not,” Emmie insisted. “We have no plans to ruin anyone, especially not someone who’s only crime is being related to your brother.”

Archer’s lip curled, but at least he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

Rollo’s father caught his attention, his intent clear.

Rollo nodded once. No reason not to fill Archer in on their investigation. The guy was hardly a suspect. He hadn’t lived in The Cove since they were all kids.

“We think JJ was set up,” their father admitted. “He might have been dead drunk, but he was also drugged. I’m guessing he lost consciousness long before his truck hit my wife’s car.”

Skeet stilled, his mouth hanging open. “What are you saying?”

“We’re saying we think he and my mom were murdered,” Emmie said.

Eyes bugging out, Skeet fell back a step. “Someone killed JJ?”

Noah spoke first. “Or they used JJ to kill Mrs. MacKenzie.”

The idea stopped Rollo cold. Ever since his father’s hunch about the accident being some kind of a setup had proven true, they’d been so focused on figuring out how JJ had been drugged, he never stopped to consider who the intended victim actually was.

Apparently Noah was a lot better at studying the bigger picture. Something they could discuss at a later time, when emotions weren’t running so hot.

He pointed at Archer. “I’ll see you out.”

His brothers frowned, but no one challenged him, except Archer, who brushed past him, hand extended toward Emmie. He thrust the crumpled note at her. “Keep this. My brother was a screw up, for sure, but if there’s a chance he isn’t completely responsible for your mother’s death, I want to know about it.”

Without another word, he retreated out the front door.

Rollo followed, if anything to make sure the guy got off the property in one piece. Archer ignored him, flip flops sending up tiny clouds of dust as he headed down the long drive.

Rollo cupped a hand around his mouth. “Yo, Skeet.”

The man froze but didn’t turn. Rollo figured he best take what he could get. “We’ve got nothing against you or your cousin. You hear differently, you come to me. Got it?”

The man’s back tightened, then he nodded. Reluctantly, Rollo sensed.

It would do. It would have to. The investigation was still too new for him to know if they’d ever dig up the truth of what happened over seven years ago.

Whatever they uncovered, he knew his father had no intention of defaming innocent people. Chip Mac just wanted the truth about his wife’s death.

Rollo wanted that, too. Short of having his mother back, it was the least he could do to honor her memory.

When Archer was halfway to the main road, Rollo headed back inside. The grief that shadowed him every time he crossed the threshold settled more heavily this time, making the loss sharp again.

He could only imagine how his father felt. A whispered prayer passed his lips, interrupted by the chirp of his cell phone.

His eyebrows rose. A call from Jack Reese. He answered it.

Jack didn’t even bother with a greeting. “Bad news, bro. Your brother’s missing.”