Rich Blood (Jason Rich #1)(26)

She slid the plastic bag to him, and he took it without breaking eye contact with her. “Heard anything about the good doctor’s murder?”

She winced. “Only that his wife’s been arrested and she looks guilty as hell.”

“How’s that?”

“That Pike fella confessed and said he was paid by Ms. Waters to kill her husband.”

“Everyone’s heard that,” Tyson said. “You know anything else?”

She averted her eyes as another customer entered the store. “Hey, Marvin.”

An old man grunted at her as he made his way back to the cold drinks cooler. She peered back at Tyson. “I heard that her brother may represent her. The guy on the billboards.”

“Jason Rich,” Tyson said. “I’ve also heard that. Know anything about him?”

She shook her head. “Nah, the Riches lived out on Mill Creek. The daddy was a lawyer in Guntersville. They didn’t get up this way much, and Jason went to private schools. I don’t think he’s been back in town since high school.”

“Anything else?”

“Nothing good.”

“Spit it out.”

“I heard Jana was screwing you to pay off her drug habit.”

Tyson cocked his head. “Now where would you hear such a tacky rumor?”

Dooby Darnell grinned, showing off a set of perfect white teeth, a nice contrast with her auburn hair. “My first husband always said I was tacky trashy, and he meant it as a compliment.”

“I think you’re beautiful.” Tyson took a hundred-dollar bill out of his wallet and placed it in her hand. “If you hear anything else about Dr. Waters’s murder or his wife’s case, you let me know.”

“You’re going to get me fired,” she said with a slight tease in her voice, folding the bill and putting it in her pocket.

“I hope I do. Then you can come work full-time for me.” He winked again and turned for the door.



Once outside, Tyson Cade breathed in the humid air and opened his soft drink. He took a long sip and winced as the tangy citrusy taste hit his tongue, sending sugar and caffeine flooding through his blood vessels. He looked back at the store and belched, remembering all the times he’d walked here during middle and high school, scrounging up enough money for the snack that he’d just bought.

Now he flung hundred-dollar bills around for information, but back then, he was lucky to get out of there with change. He’d come a long way since growing up the bastard son of Ruthie Cade a half mile away in the veritable heart of Sand Mountain. He wished he could feel pride in his accomplishments, but that was a rare notion for Tyson.

There was too much stress in his world to fool with pride. If he ever became satisfied, if he ever congratulated himself for a second, he’d get caught. Or worse . . .

. . . he’d end up dead.

As he recognized the sedan in the distance, Tyson opened the oatmeal cream sandwich and took a large bite. Three bites later, he’d downed the whole thing, and he wadded up the plastic and threw it in the trash can by one of the gasoline pumps. The black unmarked police car rolled to a stop next to him, and he climbed inside, still chewing the delicious Little Debbie goodness.

“We’ve got a problem,” the driver said.

With his mouth full, Tyson gestured with his hand for the man to fill him in.

“There’s a hole in Pike’s confession. He says Jana gave him the money in person the night of the Fourth, but you and I both know that’s impossible.”

Tyson swallowed. “We know no such thing. And besides, so what? Pike admitted to killing Waters. Said he was paid to do it, and Jana took out that exact amount of money a day before, right?” Tyson chuckled. “And how do we know that Jana didn’t give him the money?”

“Tyson, come on.”

“A woman as conniving and smart as Jana Rich can do a lotta things you might think were impossible. Trust me on that one.”

“Tyson, you had guys watching her. And you met her at the Hampton Inn. The odds that she was able—”

“Fuck the odds. Pike says she paid him, and it sounds like the only hole is some circumstantial bullshit.” He slapped the man on the shoulder. “Come on, Kelly. Don’t be a pansy. Surely your prosecutor can get a conviction off what she has.”

“She can, but a good attorney might be able to make some hay.” He glanced at Tyson and then back at the road. “And enough hay could cause us some problems.”

Tyson took a long sip of Sun Drop. “Well, first she has to hire a lawyer. And once she does, her counsel will . . . have to be properly informed of what’s at stake.”

Deputy Kelly Flowers sighed and rubbed the back of his neck as the car hurtled down Hustleville Road. “Tyson, you’ve got to tell me the deal, man. Did you hire Pike to kill Dr. Waters? Am I an accessory to murder?”

Without any conscious thought, Tyson grabbed the gearshift on the vehicle and dropped it into neutral. The car whined, and Kelly pulled over on the side of the road. “What the—” Kelly started, but stopped when Tyson shoved the barrel of his Glock into his throat.

“You need to calm down, Kelly, and think through this thing. Even if I did hire Pike, would it be wise to tell you? Is there any percentage in you knowing my shit?” He pressed the gun harder into the officer’s throat. “The answer to both of those questions is no. Now, I pay you a handsome amount of money to keep me abreast of the goings-on of the Marshall County Sheriff’s Office, and I make sure that you have the freshest product at the cheapest price, don’t I?”