[Shelby Alexander 01.0] Serenity

  Serenity

  A Shelby Alexander Thriller

  Craig A. Hart

  Northern Lake Publishing

  Copyright © 2016 by Craig A. Hart

  All rights reserved.

  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.

  ISBN: 978-1539311881

  Contents

  Also By Craig A. Hart

  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

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Also By Craig A. Hart

  THE SHELBY ALEXANDER SERIES

  Serenity

  Serenity Stalked

  Serenity Avenged

  Serenity Submerged

  Serenity Engulfed

  THE SPYCO SERIES

  Assignment: Athens

  Assignment: Paris

  Assignment: Istanbul

  Assignment: Sydney

  1

  Shelby Alexander filled his mug with coffee and inhaled the robust aroma of the dark brown liquid. It was far too late to be drinking the stuff, but he silenced the warning in his head by deciding to sleep in tomorrow morning. He wouldn’t, of course. His days of sleeping in had long deserted him, the day his daughter, Leslie, had been born; after months of sleepless nights and early mornings, his body’s natural clock had forever changed.

  Shelby wondered what Leslie was doing. Newly turned thirty, Leslie was an adult woman more than capable of caring for herself, but Shelby still thought of her as a little girl. He found himself worrying she would fall into bad company or feel hungry or lonely. But times had changed, and more recently, he had noticed the roles shifting. Now she was the one calling to inquire into his welfare: was he eating, sleeping well, taking vitamins, exercising, keeping his medical appointments. Almost sixty, Shelby considered himself in excellent health. He suffered occasionally from arthritis in his hands, a result of his years as a professional boxer, but this rarely impacted his life too dramatically as long as he remained cognizant of how much he was using his hands. His athletic past was likely responsible for his remaining highly active at an age when most of his peers were beginning to feel their age. Shelby could still lift the same weights and run the same distances he had at thirty, although the frequency at which he did these things was lessening. He knew he was on the far side of his prime, as much as he tried not to think about it. Leslie’s constant mother-henning made ignoring his age impossible, and this was probably why he found her concern both annoying and touching. But every time he became frustrated and wanted to tell her to mind her own business, he remembered it wasn’t that long ago Leslie had refused to speak to him at all.

  He moved to the kitchen window and looked out at the darkness of the Michigan night as he drank his coffee. It became incredibly dark in northern Michigan, especially in winter with its overcast skies that blotted out the moon and stars. When he first moved back to the area around the small town of Serenity, in search of a little peace and slow living, he had marveled at the difference. The light pollution caused by the larger cities downstate seemed to prevent it from ever being truly dark. But up here, the darkness could become an almost palpable thing. After a week of buying the property, which consisted of a small house and an old wooden barn, Shelby had installed a bug light to the side of the barn that automatically came on when darkness fell. It wasn’t of particularly high wattage and cast a sickly yellow hue, but it created a haven in the blackness and helped him adjust. Now he could have turned the light off and been fine, but he’d grown accustomed to it and found its pale glow comforting simply by virtue of its familiarity. Shelby was not a man who enjoyed change.

  He stood at the window, drinking his coffee and looking at the light, thinking how quickly the last ten years had passed. It seemed only yesterday he had signed the papers on this place and moved in. Time moved quickly and constantly accelerated. It seemed unfair the closer you got to running out of time, the faster it seemed to go. There ought to be some way to tap the brakes.

  Shelby sipped his coffee and started to turn away from the window. Then he stopped. Something was different. He looked back outside and then saw it: a dark heap by the side of the barn, illuminated by the yellow cast of the bug light. It appeared to be a pile of old rags and he wondered if perhaps he’d simply dropped them on his way to the burn barrel.

  “I’m losing my mind,” he muttered. “Perhaps Leslie is right and I should make an appointment with the doc. Of course, I’d probably forget to go.” This made him chuckle and he smiled into his coffee.

  The pile of rags moved.

  It was alive.

  A dog? A coyote? Probably not a wolf. Not here. There were wolves in Michigan, but they generally stayed farther north in the Upper Peninsula. The Department of Natural Resources had found genetic evidence of gray wolves in the Lower Peninsula, but they were rare; Shelby had never seen one in the wild. He instinctively thought about his Boston Terrier, Sheba, but remembered she’d been dead a good five years.

  Shelby grabbed his coat from the closet and headed into the night. It was late in the season, but winter had been hanging on, determined to stick around as long as possible. And in this part of the state, that could be a long time. Not as bad as some places in the Upper Peninsula, but bad enough.

  A gusty wind cut through the layers of his coat as he walked toward the barn and the mystery figure. It wasn’t a dog. Or an animal of any kind: no fur. And it wasn’t a pile of rags either.

  “Jenny?”

  The woman stirred but didn’t look up.

  “What the hell you doing out here? You’ll freeze.”

  The woman didn’t answer.

  Jenny Ellis was a common sight in Serenity. She was a member of the often hated, always feared Ellis clan, but Jenny was different. She’d been born with a decided mental handicap and a loving spirit. She had a smile and greeting for everyone, and brightened the day of all she met. “Strange that such a nice, sweet girl could come from Ellis stock,” the locals whispered. Some of the crueler folks made snide remarks about her handicap, but they were few and quickly shushed. Most people had no patience for any harsh words regarding Jenny, a regular at every town event. If something was happening, Jenny would be there with her big smile, waving at everyone like she was the town mayor campaigning for reelection.

  Shelby leaned down, put his hands under Jenny’s arms, and lifted. He got her up on his shoulder and stood upright, swaying a little under the weight. He carried her to the back door of the house and managed to get her inside and in front of the woodstove. He removed the threadbare coat and began rubbing her arms and legs in an effort to improve the circulation.

  “Jenny?”

  Her eyes fluttered, but her face was white, her lips blue. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but no sound came out. He called for an ambulance and, as he waited, tried to warm her by wrapping her in blankets and holding her body close to his.

  But she died on his fl
oor in front of the woodstove.

  The paramedics arrived and took her away, and that probably would have been the end of it, had the most notorious drug dealer in the area not pounded on Shelby’s door a few days later.

  2

  All of Serenity knew Harper Ellis ran drugs. The sheriff knew it as well. But no one could prove it and not many people wanted to. It wasn’t that they enjoyed having meth flood the area, but no one wanted to mess with the Ellis family.

  The Ellises were bad stock from way back. There had been an Ellis in the area for as long as anyone could remember. As oral history told it, they’d come with the first trappers and settlers. There were stories about the ferocity of the Ellis clan and the abominations they committed back in the early days, crimes against the Indians and other settlers before there was any law to tell them otherwise. They had done what they wanted. And by the time the law showed up, the Ellis family was a force to be reckoned with. Some had gone to jail, a couple were killed in shootouts, at least one more in an ambush, but the rest had survived and adjusted their evil deeds to operate out of sight of the law, a nod to the changing times. Bootlegging during Prohibition and, more recently, drugs. They had spent generations honing their skills and become masters of functioning beneath the watchful eye of the law.

  Shelby had encountered the Ellis family and come away bruised and battered. He’d gotten in plenty of licks of his own, but there were too many of them, and they didn’t play fair. It wasn’t like being in the ring. Shelby was used to that. But the last time he’d paid a visit on the Ellises, he’d been rushed by four men, all good sized and strong. He wasn’t a coward, but he wasn’t stupid either.

  “What do you want, Harper? It’s damn early.”

  “How you be, Alexander?”

  “Still sore.”

  Harper laughed. “You talkin physically or about your pride?”

  “It wasn’t a fair fight. And you know it.”

  “No hard feelins,” Harper said. “You fought a real man’s fight that day. The boys still talk about it. But that ain’t why I’m here.”

  “Jenny?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “She was an Ellis. She died on my property.”

  “You know anything about it?”

  “Just what I said. I found her by my barn under the night lamp. I thought it was a pile of old rags until she moved. I went out and got her, but she was too far gone. I called the paramedics. She died. That’s all I know.”

  “You didn’t wonder why she was on your property?”

  “I assumed she got lost and the sun went down.”

  “She was an Ellis. We don’t get lost.”

  “If you say so.”

  “You ain’t helpin much.”

  “What do you want me to say, Harper? You knock on my door in the wee hours and expect me to give you some answer I don’t even know the question to. It’s damn cold out and I’m tired. I don’t know anything other than what I told you. So unless you have something to tell me, I’d suggest we call it a night.”

  Harper looked away.

  “Well?”

  “You got a reputation, Alexander.”

  “I have more than one. Which are you talking about?”

  “It’s said you can fix things, that you got connections. That you been around.”

  “That’s all in the past.”

  “That’s not what I hear. And you’ve tangled with us already, so you’re not exactly headed for the nursing home.”

  “I moved back up here to get away from it all.”

  Harper laughed. “I guess the joke’s on you, then. Trouble follows men like you, Alexander. You can’t run from it. You been up here a spell now, and in more trouble than just about anyone I know.”

  “What does this have to do with Jenny?”

  “There’s a reason she was out here.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere. Come on in. Maybe you can explain all of this over Jack Daniels.”

  Shelby led the way inside. His was a small house: a main room, a kitchen, two bedrooms, a bathroom. But it was all he needed. The main room contained a couch and an old recliner. He pointed Harper toward the couch. Shelby was a little protective of his recliner. It had been with him for years and moved with him when he relocated from downstate. The chair was worn and squeaked when it rocked, and a spring was working its way through the seat. But it fit him like a glove and felt like home.

  Harper sat on the couch and waited while Shelby rooted in a kitchen cupboard for a bottle of Jack. He got two glasses, splashed some whiskey in each, and walked back to the main room. He handed a glass to Harper and sat down in his recliner.

  “Let’s cut right to it, Harper. What brings you out here?”

  “The new law. He’s been ridin us pretty hard. So much so that we’ve had to take certain…precautions.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as our distribution methods.”

  “You’ll have to elaborate.”

  Harper hesitated but seemed to realize he had no choice.

  “We’ve had a pretty free hand for a long time. No one much cared what we did as long as we didn’t cause trouble for them and didn’t shoot the town up or knock up their daughters. That’s been changin. Folks have started complainin more and more. Things are gettin civilized. Sheriff Adams never cared to do much, but after he retired, things changed. The new guy, he’s a real crusader. Scott—you know my brother Scott—he got arrested last month and is lookin at ten years. Used to be we could drive up to customers’ houses and drop off their goods and no one gave a shit. Now we gotta work undercover.”

  “And that’s where Jenny came in.”

  “No one thought anything about her. She’s always wanderin around town anyway. And everybody liked her, you know, her bein retarded.”

  “You had Jenny carry the drugs for you?”

  Harper nodded, his smile showing how proud he was of the plan.

  “The sheriff would never bother Jenny. Can you imagine the outcry if he ever stopped and searched a retard?”

  “You’re quite a brother, Harper.”

  “It wasn’t my idea. But you gotta admit, it was a good one.”

  “That’s one way to put it. Where do I come in?”

  “We want you to find out what happened to Jenny.”

  “Explain.”

  “Oh, come on, Shelby. You ain’t so stupid. I told you, we Ellises don’t get lost. Not even the dumb ones like Jenny.”

  “You think someone did something to Jenny? I don’t remember reading anything about foul play in the paper.”

  “All the same. Besides, she wasn’t scheduled to come by your place that night.”

  “Right, I get my meth delivery on another day.”

  “That ain’t what I mean,” Harper said. “She was off her route.”

  “It got dark, she took a wrong turn, she got cold. She sat down for a rest and never got up. It’s happened to a lot of people. Cold is an insidious killer. My condolences, Harper, but I think you’re barking up the wrong tree. It was an accident.”

  Harper’s face darkened. “I want your help. Now I’m askin nice, but I won’t hesitate to get the others involved.”

  “You don’t scare me, Harper.”

  “What about $10,000?”

  Shelby stared.

  “That’s more like it,” Harper said. “Even the great Shelby Alexander likes the sound of money.”

  “Why the hell would you pay me $10,000 to look into Jenny’s death when it was so obviously an accident?”

  “First, it wasn’t no accident. Second, we can’t do what needs to be done. Not with the law breathin down our necks.”

  Shelby squinted his eyes. “Why do I feel as if there is still something you’re not telling me?”

  Harper sighed. “Okay, fine. Me and the boys think there’s another group movin in on our territory.”

  “Another group?”

  “From downstate. A new batch of product showed up. Stuff
we didn’t make. Good stuff. Professional stuff.”

  “And you think they had something to do with Jenny’s death.”

  “I think they’re tryin to take out our distribution. If we can’t deliver, they get our customers.”

  “And why would I help you protect your distribution? I’m not in the habit of protecting drug dealers.”

  “It’s not about the drugs,” Harper said. “We want to know what happened to Jenny.”

  “Even if I believed that,” Shelby said, “which I don’t, helping you would put me in a very awkward position. I don’t exactly want to get on the wrong side of the new sheriff either.”

  “Don’t forget there’s $10,000 at stake. And what about Jenny? Didn’t you like her? Everybody liked her.”

  “She was a good woman. You could almost forget her last name was Ellis.”

  “Look into it. Ask around. Maybe stop in and have a word with the sheriff.”

  “What exactly do you want me to find out?”

  “How she died.”

  “I can tell you that right now. She froze. Do I get the ten grand?”

  “Don’t joke, Alexander. That’s my sister we’re talkin about. There’s gotta be more to it. Ellises don’t freeze.”

  “And what if I find out that is exactly what happened?”

  “You get the money anyway. In fact, I brought it with me.” Harper reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a bundle wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. He dropped it on the table. “There. Ten grand. All yours. Do some homework, keep our name out of it, and report back. You keep the money no matter what.”