She snapped out of the disbelief and sprinted the rest of the way to where she’d parked. Walked all the way around her vehicle before she could speak. “Son of a bitch!”
All four tires had been slashed.
“Welcome home, Addy,” Wyatt muttered.
6
4718 Miller Road; 8:45 p.m.
“This is not a good idea.”
He’d said that about half a dozen times already. “Just wait in the car, Wyatt.” Adeline wasn’t going over this again. She reached for the door handle.
“I’m going in with you.”
“That’s not necessary.” The old bastard knew she was coming. He was probably watching out the window at that very moment.
“The hell you say.” Wyatt got out.
Adeline rolled her eyes and did the same. She slammed the door of the SUV to show her displeasure.
Cyrus Cooper’s place stood about halfway between Moss Point and Pascagoula. The Coopers owned the land for as far as the eye could see. Nothing but woods butting up to the river. Too lazy to farm any of it. Too ornery to develop a single acre. Cyrus’s only brother, Adeline’s father, had owned the adjoining farm. Her mother had lived there alone since his death ten years ago.
Adeline hadn’t set foot on either place in nine years. Had sworn she never would again.
Right now she was too pissed to give one shit what anyone thought of her change of heart.
She climbed the steps to the old plantation-style house that had been in the Cooper family since before the Civil War. Ancient live oaks populated the yard, Spanish moss dangling from the long limbs. Every square foot of the house, inside and out, was meticulously maintained. And yet, with the looming trees and its hurricane shutters closed over the windows, the place could easily be mistaken for something out of a horror flick.
Adeline walked straight up to the door and banged hard.
Wyatt took his time reaching the door. He’d called Cyrus to let him know they were coming. Most likely to prevent being shot by some of his hired guns. Folks knew better than to show up unannounced on Cooper land.
The door opened and a tall, thin man stepped back for Adeline to enter. “Mr. Cyrus is expecting you,” he said. “He’s waiting in the parlor.”
“Thanks.” Adeline didn’t hesitate. She strode across the entry hall to the double doors leading into the parlor, slid the pocket doors apart, and stepped inside. Wyatt didn’t permit her to get more than two steps ahead of him.
Cyrus sat next to the sofa, his legs and lap covered with a blanket that couldn’t disguise the fact that he was seated in a wheelchair. The wheelchair was new; so was his butler, man Friday—whatever the hell he was. When Adeline had last had words with Cyrus, he’d been quite mobile on crutches. No more, apparently. That he had himself a Jeeves spoke volumes about just how incapacitated he was. Adeline hated to feel glee from anyone’s misery, but she did just the same.
The fact was, this part of Mississippi would have been a better place if the old bastard had died in the car accident that had stolen his ability to walk without assistance thirty-some years ago. Apparently his damaged back had finally given in to mere human frailty.
“You’re just as beautiful as your mother said,” Cyrus declared. “Your daddy would be proud.”
What the hell was he doing talking to her mother?
“I didn’t come here to exchange pleasantries, old man.” Fury throbbed in Adeline’s veins. How dare this old bastard try to talk family shit with her!
Next to her, Wyatt shifted. “Mr. Cooper, Adeline only just arrived in town, and already there’s been some trouble.”
Cyrus stared at Adeline, didn’t bother so much as flicking a glance at the sheriff. “I can’t imagine you were surprised by that reaction, Addy. You left a bad taste in a lot of folks’ mouths nine years ago.”
She had hoped he would say something like that. Scarcely able to keep the smirk off her lips, she turned to Wyatt. “We need a minute alone.”
He was shaking his head firmly before she’d finished making the statement. “It’s my job to keep the peace in this county. I’m not about to step out of this room and have you two go at it.”
“No need to be concerned, Sheriff.” Cyrus held up both hands. “I’m unarmed. You may check beneath my blanket if you feel the inclination. Addy is my niece. I’m certainly not afraid of being alone with her.”
“One minute,” Adeline snapped. That the old bastard referred to her as his niece made her want to kick something. “Just step out into the hall, Wyatt.” She lowered her voice to a fierce whisper. “One damned minute, that’s all I’m asking for.”