Read Online As Good as Dead by Beverly Barton - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Beverly Barton
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motioning for Cyrus to bring him another drink.
By the time Brian and Wade joined the older men in the library, they'd each polished off their third bourbon and even Dodd Keefer's usually soft voice was a little louder than normal. They had discussed various subjects of interest to three wealthy, successful men, albeit neither Max nor Dodd possessed the sizable fortune Farlan did. As the afternoon wore on, they'd laughed and talked and enjoyed their whiskey. For the life of him Farlan couldn't remember who'd brought up the subject of the article in this morning's Knoxville News-Sentinel about the prostitute's body being dragged out of the river near Loudon.
But he figured it must have been Max, who had a tendency to talk too much, a quality shared by many in his profession.
"Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say." Dodd downed the last drops of his third drink.
"Do you mean to say you think it's all right for someone to murder prostitutes?" Max asked, rather indignantly.
"No, of course not." Dodd's olive complexion splotched with pink. "I spoke without thinking." Dodd stood, set his whiskey glass aside and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the massive front lawn.
"I hear it's going to frost tonight." Farlan quickly changed the subject, hoping to ease Dodd's discomfort. His brother-in-law was a sensitive, emotional man. A good man.
An apologetic look crossed Max's face. He glanced from Dodd, who stood with his back to them, to Farlan, then nodded agreeably. "Yes, sir, cold weather is just around the corner."
Farlan studied Dodd's drooping shoulders, his bowed head. If they were alone, he'd bring up that old taboo subject that haunted them both; and they would discuss it again, as they occasionally did when the burden of guilt and regret overcame them. But they weren't alone and that shameful part of their pasts wasn't something they ever discussed with anyone else, not even Max, whom they both trusted implicitly. That particular time in their lives was something Farlan would rather forget. And usually he was able to keep it buried deep inside, but occasionally he wondered if he should have done things differently.
If he had, would his life now be better or worse?
Apparently sensing he'd inadvertently upset Dodd, Max began talking about this and that, doing his best to lighten the mood. Maxwell presented a jovial face to the world, even to family and friends. Farlan knew Max as few others did, knew the demons that plagued him.
"What are you jabbering about, Max?" Brian asked teasingly as he and Wade walked in, both ruddy-cheeked from having played a round of golf in the crisp October weather.
"Did I hear someone say something about another prostitute being found in the Tennessee River?" Wade inquired.
Farlan looked at the young man and thought not for the first time that the boy was too damned good-looking. Too pretty to be a man. "The prostitute's murder was just something Max mentioned in passing. We've been shooting the bull for a couple of hours waiting on you boys to show up."
Wade meandered over toward the windows where Dodd still stood with his back to the room. "How are you, Judge?"
"Well enough," Dodd replied in a quiet, stilted voice.
"What did you mean when you said another prostitute?" Max asked. "Has there been more than one murdered?"
Wade turned around and faced the others. "Several in the past couple of years. All in the eastern part of the state, all the bodies dumped into the river. One was as recent as six months ago. That body was recovered downstream from Watts Barr. I believe I took note of a similar case for the first time only a couple of years ago, and if I recall correctly, there have been four cases with practically the same MO."
"And that MO would be?" Brian asked as he turned to accept a glass of bourbon from Cyrus, who'd just offered him a drink.
Dodd whirled around, his eyes overly bright, his facial features drawn. "If y'all will ex-cuse me, I'm not
By the time Brian and Wade joined the older men in the library, they'd each polished off their third bourbon and even Dodd Keefer's usually soft voice was a little louder than normal. They had discussed various subjects of interest to three wealthy, successful men, albeit neither Max nor Dodd possessed the sizable fortune Farlan did. As the afternoon wore on, they'd laughed and talked and enjoyed their whiskey. For the life of him Farlan couldn't remember who'd brought up the subject of the article in this morning's Knoxville News-Sentinel about the prostitute's body being dragged out of the river near Loudon.
But he figured it must have been Max, who had a tendency to talk too much, a quality shared by many in his profession.
"Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say." Dodd downed the last drops of his third drink.
"Do you mean to say you think it's all right for someone to murder prostitutes?" Max asked, rather indignantly.
"No, of course not." Dodd's olive complexion splotched with pink. "I spoke without thinking." Dodd stood, set his whiskey glass aside and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the massive front lawn.
"I hear it's going to frost tonight." Farlan quickly changed the subject, hoping to ease Dodd's discomfort. His brother-in-law was a sensitive, emotional man. A good man.
An apologetic look crossed Max's face. He glanced from Dodd, who stood with his back to them, to Farlan, then nodded agreeably. "Yes, sir, cold weather is just around the corner."
Farlan studied Dodd's drooping shoulders, his bowed head. If they were alone, he'd bring up that old taboo subject that haunted them both; and they would discuss it again, as they occasionally did when the burden of guilt and regret overcame them. But they weren't alone and that shameful part of their pasts wasn't something they ever discussed with anyone else, not even Max, whom they both trusted implicitly. That particular time in their lives was something Farlan would rather forget. And usually he was able to keep it buried deep inside, but occasionally he wondered if he should have done things differently.
If he had, would his life now be better or worse?
Apparently sensing he'd inadvertently upset Dodd, Max began talking about this and that, doing his best to lighten the mood. Maxwell presented a jovial face to the world, even to family and friends. Farlan knew Max as few others did, knew the demons that plagued him.
"What are you jabbering about, Max?" Brian asked teasingly as he and Wade walked in, both ruddy-cheeked from having played a round of golf in the crisp October weather.
"Did I hear someone say something about another prostitute being found in the Tennessee River?" Wade inquired.
Farlan looked at the young man and thought not for the first time that the boy was too damned good-looking. Too pretty to be a man. "The prostitute's murder was just something Max mentioned in passing. We've been shooting the bull for a couple of hours waiting on you boys to show up."
Wade meandered over toward the windows where Dodd still stood with his back to the room. "How are you, Judge?"
"Well enough," Dodd replied in a quiet, stilted voice.
"What did you mean when you said another prostitute?" Max asked. "Has there been more than one murdered?"
Wade turned around and faced the others. "Several in the past couple of years. All in the eastern part of the state, all the bodies dumped into the river. One was as recent as six months ago. That body was recovered downstream from Watts Barr. I believe I took note of a similar case for the first time only a couple of years ago, and if I recall correctly, there have been four cases with practically the same MO."
"And that MO would be?" Brian asked as he turned to accept a glass of bourbon from Cyrus, who'd just offered him a drink.
Dodd whirled around, his eyes overly bright, his facial features drawn. "If y'all will ex-cuse me, I'm not
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