information. Jared Wilson was a professor at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville. He and Griffin were both alumni of the school and had known each other for years, so when he had contacted the Powell Agency, he had immediately been given an appointment with Sanders.
âI am sorry that Griffin is unavailable,â Sanders said as he held out his hand to his visitor. âHe and Nicole are on a second honeymoon. But I can assure you that I and the Powell Agency will assist you in any way possible.â
âThank you, Mr. Sanders.â Jared exchanged a firm handshake with Sanders. âGriffin knows about my brotherâs murder. He was kind enough to send flowers and he and Nicole attended the funeral.â
âIs your brotherâs murder the reason youâre here?â Sanders indicated with a sweep of his hand for the other man to sit. When Jared took one of the two chairs flanking the fireplace, Sanders took the other one.
âYes.â Jared rubbed his hands together. âThe Sevier County sheriffâs department has no suspects, and although they say the case is still open, I think theyâve marked it off as unsolvable.â
âI see.â
Jaredâs gaze met Sandersâs calm, cool stare. âI want to hire the Powell Agency to do a private investigation. I want to know who killed my brother and why.â
âI am sure that Griffin is familiar with the particulars of your brotherâs death, but I am not. I wish I did not have to ask you to go over the details for me, butââ
âIâll do whatever I need to do. Donât be concerned about upsetting me.â
âAll I need today are the basic details,â Sanders told him. âJust enough to give me an idea of where to start. All of the agencyâs resources will be utilized and I will put two of our best agents on the case immediately. You will be dealing directly with them, but you may contact me at any time with questions or complaints.â
âThat sounds reasonable,â Jared said.
âBen Corbett and Michelle Allen are two of our best investigators. They will start tomorrow morning.â
âDo I work out the arrangement for payments with you or a secretary orââ
âWhen Griffin returns, the two of you can discuss that.â Sanders sat ramrod straight and looked squarely at Jared. âHow was your brother killed? When and where? And who discovered the body?â
Jared took a deep breath. âHe was killed in January at our familyâs cabin in the mountains outside of Gatlinburg. He and I were planning to spend a few days together. It was to be a reunion of sorts. We hadnât been close, not since we were teenagers. We took different paths in life.â
Sanders could hear the regret in the manâs voice and noted the sheen of moisture in his eyes. He would like to give comfort, but he simply did not know how. It was not in his nature. âThen you are the one who discovered his body?â
Jared swallowed hard. âYes. I found him.â He paused for a few seconds. âHe was naked and lying on the floor in the middle of the living room. He had been shot several times. Iâm told the fatal bullet hit his heart.â He swallowed again. âIt was the damnedest thing.â
âWhat was?â Sanders asked.
âWhoever killed him had not only stripped him naked, but they had put a mask on his face.â
âA mask? What sort of mask?â
âAn elaborate mask, the kind youâd see at Mardi Gras or some fancy masquerade ball.â
âI see.â Was it simply an odd coincidence that both Jared Wilsonâs brother and Tagg Chamblessâs wife had been shot several times, stripped naked, and adorned with a fancy mask? âDo you know if your brother had received any death threats? Had someone sent him any letters warning him that he was in danger?â
âNot that I know of, but Dean lived in
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