Deceased and Desist (Book 5) (A Harley and Davidson Mystery) Read online

  Deceased and Desist

  A Harley and Davidson Mystery Series (Book 5)

  Liliana Hart

  Scott Silverii

  To our kids -

  You’re worth all the work.

  Contents

  Other Books In Series

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  A Look Ahead

  About Liliana Hart

  About Scott Silverii

  Also by Liliana Hart

  Also by Scott Silverii

  Copyright © 2018 by SilverHart, LLC

  All rights reserved.

  Published by SilverHart Publishing

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  The Harley and Davidson Mystery Series

  The Farmer’s Slaughter

  A Tisket a Casket

  I Saw Mommy Killing Santa Claus

  Get Your Murder Running

  Deceased and Desist

  Chapter One

  Sunday

  Agatha Harley lounged back on the couch in her war room and studied Hank. He’d changed in the year she’d known him. The tight lines around his eyes and mouth had relaxed with retirement, and he looked content. The scar across his nose only added to the mystique that was Hank Davidson.

  “You know, that scar across your nose really gives you some character,” she said.

  “You saying I had no character before that outlaw clocked me in the face with his sawed-off?”

  Agatha chuckled. “Oh, no, honey. You’re full of character.”

  There was an ease sitting with Hank, listening to the rhythm of an afternoon April shower. Agatha pulled her socked feet onto the couch and tucked them beneath her. Hank stretched his long legs across the refurbished wooden floor until his feet rested beneath the glass coffee table.

  “You’ve been kind of quiet about it,” Hank said, “but are you doing okay with how things went down with the Rattlers last month?”

  “My heart says yes, but my head still gets trapped in the reality of seeing violence and death meted out so effortlessly. I guess writing about it and witnessing the end results of it have given me a hard edge. But actually being in the middle of it is a whole other issue.”

  “I can understand that. The differences between theory and reality.”

  Agatha twisted so she directly faced him and set her hands on his thigh. Agatha felt the heaviness in her chest and still debated whether or not to bring up something that had been bothering her

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure,” he said. “As long as I don’t have to promise to answer.”

  “I don’t want to intrude, but I have to be honest.” She’d not slept well the last month, and unless she wanted to spend the next year a complete zombie, she needed to open up to Hank about her struggles.

  Hank placed his hand on top of hers. “Being honest is a good start. And I was only kidding about not answering. Ask me what you need to.”

  “I’m having a lot of trouble with the idea of us,” she blurted out.

  “Oh?” Hank asked.

  “I mean, ever since I saw you shoot those two bikers, I’ve not been able to stop thinking about it. And then I saw the ease at which you dropped Skinner, and it began to scare me a little.”

  “I’m sorry you had to see it at all. It’s a dirty business, but I’ve been the garbage man for decades. Our job is to do the things that others won’t or can’t. It’s not always an easy choice.”

  “I understand that,” she said. “But trash men don’t wallow in the junk.” She could feel the emotion start to bubble in her chest.

  “Wow, that’s pretty insulting,” he said, sitting up a little. “You think I enjoy the violence?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip and thought about the answer. “I don’t think you hate it. I could see into your soul when Tony Smith held that gun in your face. You didn’t care one way or the other if he pulled the trigger. How am I supposed to consider having a future with someone like that?” Tears trickled down her cheeks.

  Hank pushed up from the couch and paced across the living room. He opened his mouth to say something, but close it again.

  “I, umm,” Hank said, trying to reply.

  “I’m sorry, Hank.”

  He nodded and grabbed the keys to his house from the antique table, and shoved through the front door without saying goodbye.

  Agatha curled up on the couch until the shadows of the late afternoon encroached upon her back porch. She didn’t mean for it to come out that way, but she’d expected Hank to respond differently. Honestly, she wasn’t sure how the words were going to come out, but once it began to flow, she couldn’t stop herself.

  It was harsh and disrespectful to a man who had only lived his life to serve others.

  She fumbled in the dimly lit living room to find her vibrating cell phone. Her heart began to pound. Maybe it was Hank. Maybe they could patch things up before it stewed any longer. She found the phone in between two overstuffed pillows.

  “Hello,” she said.

  “Hey, girl. What’s going down at the Harley household?”

  “Heather?”

  “Yep, I’m back.”

  “I didn’t know you were gone,” Agatha said, distracted.

  “Funny,” she said. “I’ve been a bit busy, but that isn’t what’s important. Did you and Hank have a fight? I saw him leaving your house mad as a cat that’s been thrown in bathwater.”

  “Not now, Heather,” Agatha said, rubbing her temples. “Can I call you back?”

  “No way, sister. I know this game. You have no plan to call me back, and I’m dying to know what’s going on with my favorite power couple.”

  Agatha wiped a tear that managed to roll about half way down her cheek. She wasn’t going to fall apart over this man. She’d suffered through enough of Heather’s dramatic moments to understand what an exercise in futility it was to vent.

  “Thanks, but I just can’t today. It was just a misunderstanding.”

  “Liar,” Heather said. “But if you want to talk about it I’ll be at the Taco and Waffle. I’ve heard Penny’s working there on Sunday nights and she likes to slip free drinks in with food orders.”

  Agatha rolled her eyes.

  “Then I’m definitely not going. I’ve had my fill of Penny and her snooping into my business.”

  “Between you and me, I heard she was hustling up to make cash to buy a place once her boyfriend returns home from the Army.”

  “Boyfriend?” Agatha asked.

  “Word is, she met a special forces soldier who’s still fighting in the Middle East. They met on the internet, but she’s head over heals in love with her war hero. Don’t know where he’s from. But, he’s agreed to move to Rusty Gun to be with her.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Looks like your Hammerin’ Hank Davidson isn’t going to be the only out-of-town hero living here.”

  “Maybe so. You know, Penny did ask me about buying or renting my house. I thought she was just being nosy. Who knows? Maybe she has found someone. Good for her.”

  “So, are you up to knocking a few back?” Heather asked. “I’ve got some juicy news to share.”

  Agatha sat up from the couch. It wasn’t seven o’clock yet and she hadn’t eaten since she and Hank grilled burgers at lunch. Against her better judgment, she agreed to go.

  “Okay, but just for a little while. Come pick me up,” Agatha said.

  “I’m in your driveway.”

  Agatha blew out a breath. “That’s kind of creepy. Give me five.”

  She dropped back on the couch, already wishing she could cancel, but Heather was relentless. She’d come in and drag her out by the hair if necessary. She groaned and got up from the couch, and her phone vibrated again.

  “I said give me five minutes,” she said.

  The line was quiet.

  “Hello?” she asked.

  No one answered, although she knew the line was connected. She listened for sound—breathing or evidence of a prank call—or maybe Hank still too upset to speak. Her call display showed an unknown caller signal.

  “Okay, last chance,” she said. “Hello.”

  Still nothing. Agatha looked at the phone and wondered why she was being so patient. It wasn’t like she received a ton of calls. Maybe that was it. The few calls she did get were from people she knew very well. Maybe one of them was in need. Or maybe there was another explanation.

  Her finger shook as she aimed for the End Call button. What if? What if it was him again? It had been over fifteen years since he’d been sent to prison. Would he be able to find her? What would he do if he did? The possibilities sent a cold frisson of fear down her spine.

  Chapter Two

  Monday

  Early A
pril was a beautiful time in central Texas. There were the typical rainy days, but it was nothing like the seasonal whims of Philadelphia. There were years when snow still covered the ground this time of year back home. Hank never thought he’d love to live anyplace but home, but he loved it here.

  He couldn’t leave the motorcycle sitting in the garage on such a perfect day, so cranked it up and headed off to visit Sully just outside of Waxahachie. The former outlaw was still convalescing at a cousin’s trailer, and Hank was concerned his injuries from the beating he’d received needed medical attention.

  Hank also needed the saddle time to clear his thoughts about the conversation he and Agatha had the day before. He regretted walking out in anger. After he’d had the day to think through his actions, he realized he responded not in anger—well, maybe a little--but mostly because what she’d said hurt.

  Hank had accepted killing as a reality of his job. There were many occasions where it was kill or be killed. It was the very nature of the sort of criminals he hunted. The very worst of the worst serial killers who devalued the price of life as a simple means to satisfying their fix for death. There were only two ways out of a situation like that—capture them or kill them.

  In hindsight, maybe there was a satisfaction in saving the taxpayers millions of dollars in incarceration, court, and appeals processes. But the truth was, Hank only killed when it was a matter of life or death. What he’d done to the outlaws that night was completely different. His and Agatha’s lives were on the line, and if he hadn’t shown himself as top dog, they’d both be dead. Shooting those bikers with non-mortal wounds had gotten his point across.

  He remained haunted by the night his wife, Tammy, had been killed by The Bonekeeper. Hank felt deeply responsible for trying to take the notorious serial killer into custody with just the two of them. She’d been a great cop, but they hadn’t been enough. And it had cost her life. Hank never considered whether The Bonekeeper would have complied with surrender and arrest. Instead, Hank strangled him until he knew for sure the murderer was dead.

  Never once had he thought about handling the situation differently. The killer killed, so he was killed. But, was that Hank’s duty to serve as judge, jury and executioner? Agatha’s words stung. Not because they weren’t true, but possibly because they were the truth.

  Sure, Ratchet held him at bay with a double-barrel sawed-off shotgun, but Butcher was only armed with a club. Did he really have to be shot, even if it was in the foot?

  Hank shook his head to dismiss the thoughts. He still carried the bruises and stitches from the attack that night behind Reverend Graham’s Harley Davidson shop. The pain was a stark reminder that there was evil in the world—and yes, they’d deserved what they’d gotten.

  Hank down shifted the motorcycle as he entered the town limits of Rusty Gun. He spotted Deputy Karl Johnson walking across the street toward his mom’s restaurant, Bucky’s Brisket Basket.

  Karl waved and waited for him on the sidewalk, so Hank pulled into a parking spot and cut the engine.

  “Hey, man,” Hank said. “Big surprise seeing you here. I didn’t think your mom opened this early.”

  “She doesn’t, but mama said Penny’s had the brisket on the smoker all day, and it was okay to come over and grab a plate before I go on duty. Why don’t you join me? I hate eating alone.”

  Hank’s mouth watered. He’d never tasted better than Sheila Johnson’s brisket. She said the secret was in the dry rub she used.

  “You are one lucky fella,” Hank said. “You’ve got a great mom. I hope you let her know that.”

  “She’s the best,” Karl said. “It’s always been just me and her. She worked like a dog after my daddy left, and I never wanted for anything. I always thought she might find somebody to settle down with, but she said she’s married to the restaurant and that’s more than enough. Personally, I think things were so bad with my dad she probably never wants to deal with it again. I can’t say I blame her. I’m glad I have very few memories of him.”

  “Moms are special,” Hank said. “They love us no matter what.”

  Karl laughed. “That’s the truth, but I think she might be a little fed up with her baby boy right now.”

  Hank frowned. He didn’t like getting into anyone’s business, but Karl and Sheila were both his friends. “I’m sorry. I hope it’s nothing serious.”

  Karl sighed. “I’m kinda embarrassed to say.” Karl shoved his hands into the pockets of his khaki deputy’s uniform.

  “Son, I’m not here to judge you. I’m your friend, but I also respect your privacy.”

  “Mama found out that I was messing around with someone, and she’s not happy about it. At all.”

  “That’s tough. But you’re an adult, and I know you love your mom, but you’re a man now. She’s just trying to protect you, but ultimately what you do and who you do it with is your choice to make.”

  “It’s Heather Cartwright,” Karl said.

  “In that case, I completely agree with your mom,” Hank said. “Boy, are you crazy? That woman will chew you up and spit you out.”

  Karl looked dejected, and Hank couldn’t help but laugh. He squeezed Karl’s shoulder in support.

  “You’re not telling me anything I don’t know deep down,” Karl said. “I was just hoping you’d agree with me. I know I should’ve avoided her.”

  “Look, what I said still stands. It is your choice, but while you are free to jump out of a plane without a parachute, you should still think about the consequences before you leap. And if you do still chose to jump, know that those who love you will continue to love you whether you end up in the hospital or the grave.”

  “I guess mama was right,” Karl said. “Heather is the devil.”

  Hank couldn’t help but laugh again. “Your mother is very intuitive.”

  “I hate this town,” Karl said, his frustration evident. “There just aren’t many people like me.”

  “Black?”

  “No,” Karl said. “I don’t care about that. I mean young.”

  “What about Penny?”

  Karl rolled his eyes. “She’s nuts, but even she’s got a man. He’s some kind of military special forces dude who’s coming to live with her. I think they met on the Internet. I mean, come on. Even Penny can find love.”

  “Well, I’m not sure that’s considered love, but who knows,” Hank said. “I just hope she got that smoker ready so we can grab a few slices of brisket. It’s got my mouth watering.”

  He slapped Karl on the back as they moved toward the restaurant’s door.

  “Thanks for the advice,” Karl said.

  “Any time. And I mean that. Besides, you gave me a good laugh. I needed one.”

  Karl’s lips twitched.

  Hank had needed the laugh. The situation with Agatha had really gotten him down. He’d checked his cell phone numerous times, but knew her well enough to know she wasn’t the text and make up kind of girl.

  Karl had a key to the restaurant and unlocked it. When he opened it the most wonderful smell assaulted his senses. As soon as they were inside Karl locked it again.

  “Penny,” Karl called out. “It’s Karl, and I’ve got Hank with me. Just grabbing a quick plate before shift.”

  Hank walked over to the counter and sat on a stool. He grabbed a napkin from the metal napkin holder and wiped a bit of road grime from his face.

  “Three pointer,” he said, tossing the wadded up napkin in a perfect arc toward the trashcan. It hit the rim and then bounced off onto the floor.

  “You better pick that up, man. My mama will skin you,” Karl said, teasing.

  “Your mama will skin Penny if she’s left this meat smoker unattended. Where is that girl?”

  Karl looked back in the kitchen, and then looked back at Hank through the server’s window and shrugged.