Nauti Dreams (19 page)

back at her.

“Did Johnny tell you where the money he gained on deposit of those missiles was

hidden?”

“No.” Like an animal, Nadine’s lips curled back from her teeth and her eyes glittered

with malicious glee.

“Who would he have told?”

“No one. He didn’t do it.”

“You’re saying the Mackay cousins framed him?”

“That’s exactly what happened.” Nadine’s teeth snapped together.

“Why would they do that, Mrs. Grace?”

“They always hated Johnny. He was always smarter; he always did what was right. They

hated him for it.”

“Was James Dawg Mackay aware Johnny was also the biological son of his father, your

brother Chandler Mackay?”

“That’s a lie.” Nadine nearly screamed the word, hatred burning hard and bright in her

eyes.

Chaya watched her carefully now. “Mrs. Grace, we have a recorded statement of your

son bragging about those crimes. Just as he admitted to being the son of Chandler

Mackay, your deceased brother. DNA testing from blood collected after his death and

compared to James Mackay’s, proves this to be the case. Are you stating, for the record,

that your son was not conceived in an incestuous relationship between yourself and your

deceased brother, Chandler Mackay?”

This was the part Chaya hated. The part she had argued and fought Cranston over for

days before leaving for Somerset.

Nadine was silent. She drew in a hard, deep breath.

“I want to call my lawyer now,” she stated.

Chaya flipped off the recorder and placed it back in her briefcase before standing. Sheriff

Mayes followed suit, his expression granite hard as he glanced at Nadine Grace, then to

Chaya.

“You do that, Mrs. Grace,” Chaya told her softly. “And when you do, perhaps you had

better warn him to advise you on your rights should you lie under oath. Because the next

time we question you, you will be under oath.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Nadine spat back at her.

Chaya smiled and walked back to the front door, where she put her boots back on before

straightening and staring back at the other woman.

“There will be a next time, Mrs. Grace. I’d contact that lawyer if I were you. You’re

going to need him.”

She didn’t give the other woman time to protest but stepped out of the house and moved

toward the sheriff’s cruiser. Natches was still sitting on the other side of the street, staring at her, his expression hard but thoughtful as she and the sheriff got back into the cruiser.

“Would you like to tell me what the hell was going on in there?” Sheriff Mayes asked her

carefully, coldly. “No matter what he did, Agent Dane, she was still his mother. And you

showed no respect for that.”

No, she hadn’t, and it didn’t sit well with her, but she knew Timothy’s suspicions and she

knew the evidence he had amassed so far. At this point, she couldn’t afford to worry

about respect.

“Sometimes, Sheriff, we all have to do things we don’t particularly like, as you reminded

me yesterday,” she finally answered, glancing at him as he reversed out of the driveway

and passed Natches’s jeep. “Have you ever had to arrest a friend? Did the fact that he was

your friend sway you from your sworn duty to arrest him?”

He spared her a brief, flinty glance. “No, it did not.”

“The fact that she’s a mother can’t sway me from mine, and there’s a difference between

her and Clayton Winston,” she informed him. “Johnny Grace killed an innocent soldier,

stole those missiles and their guidance chips, and negotiated a rather low price for them.

The money is missing, and pertinent information regarding the whole deal is missing. He

had another partner. Nadine Grace was lying for her son; Clayton Winston didn’t. And I

want to know what she was lying about.”

“And you think it was his mother helping him?” He clearly didn’t think it was, but then

neither did she.

“What I think doesn’t matter. I have a clear set of questions for each person I’m

interviewing. Those recordings will be transferred to DHS, where they will be gone over

by the experts there and determinations made as to who will be pulled into formal

interrogation. DHS won’t let this go.”

Sheriff Mayes wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t letting it go either, but he clearly wasn’t saying

anything more.

“Who’s next on your little list then?” he finally asked.

“Wenden Frakes,” she answered.

“Shit,” he breathed out. “Johnny’s uncle.”

“Ralph Grace’s half brother.” She nodded.

“Just what I need,” he growled as he made another turn and hit the interstate. “Wenden

Frakes pissed off. That’s just gonna round out my day.”

Wenden Frakes wasn’t pissed off. And he didn’t end up pissed off. He was feeding cattle

when they arrived and agreed to talk to them after a careful silence.

His answers were cautiously worded, his expression disagreeable, but he didn’t give them

any trouble. Didn’t like that little bastard Johnny, he declared. Everyone knew he was

Chandler Mackay’s kid because everyone knew Nadine Grace was doing the nasty with

her brothers. Not just one brother, he stated, but both Chandler and Dayle Mackay.

When they left the Frakes farm, the sheriff heaved a hard sigh. “We’re going to the

Mackay Marina, aren’t we?”

Chaya almost felt sick inside. “I don’t have a choice, Sheriff.”

Sheriff Mayes shook his head. “I sure hope you know what you’re doing.”

She didn’t. She only knew the list, the questions, and the vague sense of disquiet slowly

stealing over her. Timothy had plotted out each person to question and the order of the

interviews. He knew something; he was pushing someone, and she just couldn’t figure

out whom. She knew she was growing more and more concerned though. And by the

look Natches had flashed them as they passed him, he was growing angrier with each

visit they made today.

As the sheriff turned into the Mackay Marina, Chaya drew in a slow, control-restoring

breath. Natches had guessed where they were headed, too, because there was Rowdy

Mackay at the front of the marina office, his wife standing beside him.

They watched as she and the sheriff stepped from the car and Natches drew the jeep into

the parking space beside them. Chaya paused. She had no intention of fighting him over

this one.

“What are you doing, Chaya?” His voice was harder now, suspicious.

“My job.” Turning to him, she tried to push past the ache in her chest as she saw the

suspicion in his eyes. “They’re just questions, Natches. That’s all. I swear.”

“Why?”

“Clarifications. Making certain DHS has everything. Timothy isn’t targeting Ray

Mackay; I can promise you that much.”

“Who is he targeting?” Ice formed in his tone.

She shook her head, aware of the sheriff watching them in interest. “I don’t know. All I

have are the questions. That’s all.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment. His arms crossed over his chest as he glanced

to the marina, then back to her. “Just questions? Or accusations?”

“Questions, Natches. And the questions aren’t in the least accusatory.”

He glanced to the marina office again, and she followed his gaze. Ray Mackay stepped

outside, his broad form powerful, his gaze piercing, and his expression confident.

Everything about him the same as she remembered from the year before. This was the

man who had practically raised Natches, the man who had sheltered him through what

had obviously been a hell of a childhood.

“He’s a good man,” she said softly, turning back to the angry man watching her. “I would

never take that from him. And I wouldn’t let Cranston do it either—not without warning

you first. Not without fighting him every breath of the way.”

He finally nodded, his arms uncrossing before his fingers curved around her arm and he

walked her to the marina.

“You young fools.” As they reached him on the stoop, Ray shook his head before smiling

back at Chaya. “Nadine’s done called everyone in the county, spitting out poison. I

figured you’d be here sometime today.”

“Hello, Mr. Mackay.” She extended her hand in greeting, pleased when he took it in a

firm grip. “I just have a few questions if I may. Alone, please.”

“Not a chance in hell,” Rowdy objected.

“Son, I don’t need you watching my back.” Ray glared back at his son with fatherly

reproof. “Put your back down, and keep Natches and the sheriff here company. Me and

Miss Dane here will just have a little chat in the office.”

“Damn it, Dad—”

“And don’t curse in front of the women. I taught you better than that.” Ray glared back at

him before turning to Chaya and inviting her into the marina office. “Come on in, Agent

Dane. These boys can stand out here in the sun and let off some steam while we talk. It’s

the best thing for them.”

She liked him. She had liked him the year before, the few times she had seen him. He

was protective of his son and his nephews. He had protected them as well as he could

when they were children, and he continued to do so after they were grown.

Ray Mackay, for all intents and purposes, didn’t have just one son, he had three.

“Right back here.” He opened the office door as his wife stood by worriedly. “Maria just

made fresh coffee. Would you like some?”

“No thank you.” She felt like slime as she took the seat he offered her and waited as he

closed the door and moved behind his desk.

Then he was staring back at her with too-perceptive blue eyes and a concerned

expression. “You’re sure making a mess of my boys.” He sighed. “I heard Dawg and

Natches almost came to blows at the diner yesterday. And Natches is fit to be tied right

now.”

Chaya nodded. “I know. It couldn’t be helped.”

Ray Mackay was what Chaya had always thought a father should be. At fifty-nine, he

was trim, his hair black and silver, his face weathered. And kind. He had a kind face, and

that just made her feel worse.

She pulled the recording device from her briefcase hesitantly.

“I need to record this,” she told him.

He nodded in agreement.

She turned the machine on, stated the date and time, and looked up at him. “Your name is

Raymond Douglas Mackay. You were Johnny Grace’s uncle. Brother to his mother as

well as to Chandler Mackay.”

“I am.” He nodded.

She swallowed tightly. “Were you at any time aware of Johnny Grace’s illegal activities

here in Somerset or outside the county?” She watched his eyes, and he didn’t turn from

her, didn’t flinch.

“No, ma’am, I didn’t know Johnny was capable of such activities.”

She nodded to that.

“Mr. Mackay, as stated by Johnny Grace, he’s the half brother to his cousin James

Mackay. A product of the incestuous relationship between his mother and her brother

Chandler Mackay. Did you know this?”

“I suspected a time or two,” he said softly. “My brothers and sister weren’t my concern

after I left my mother’s home, Agent Dane. I lived my life, and I stayed out of theirs.”

She nodded again.

“Would his mother be capable of aiding him in those illegal activities?” she asked him.

“His mother would have aided the devil himself if it meant destroying Dawg. If it meant

destroying any of those boys outside there. She hated them. Even more than Dawg’s and

Natches’s fathers hated them.”

“Was she also sleeping with her brother Dayle Mackay? Would he have aided her and/or

her son in those activities?”

Ray stared back at her silently for long moments. “I’d like to say no,” he finally said.

“But?”

“But I learned with Johnny that nothing is impossible. Honestly, I wouldn’t know, Agent

Dane. Dayle’s ex-Marine, always seemed damned patriotic to me. He preaches about it,

argues politics, and votes in every election. Hates foreigners, and my first thought would

be he’d never betray his country. But after Johnny . . .” He shook his head. “What the hell

do I know?”

“There’s a million dollars in cash missing, and connections Johnny or Jim Bedsford

couldn’t have had aided in the near sale of those missiles, Mr. Mackay. Who would have

helped him?”

Ray scratched his cheek as he thought, then finally shook his head. “I just don’t know.

Things like this don’t happen around here, Agent Dane. Somerset is a quiet little town,

and this whole thing . . .” He shook his head again. “It’s spooked a lot of folks. Hell, I

think it spooked me.”

“Wenden Frakes, Ralph Grace’s half brother, says Johnny spent a lot of time on the lake

last summer. Did he use any of the boats off your marina?”

“Not one of my mine.” He shook his head firmly. “I didn’t let Johnny Grace rent out my

boats for no reason. He had a tendency to tear them up. Those boats are hard to replace.

Besides, Dayle had a boat he kept out at his cabin farther up the lake. Johnny used it

some, I think.”

She nodded again and flipped off the recorder. She had what she needed here.

“Thank you, Mr. Mackay,” she said when he stared back at her in surprise. “I know the

questions weren’t comfortable, and I apologize for that. They weren’t questions I chose; I

want you to know that.”

Ray leaned back in his chair then and watched her with the narrow-eyed intent of a man

who knew people and, sometimes, knew them too well.

“Dawg says you’re cold,” he stated then, surprising her. “That you’re just using Natches