tbrews

Emily Jenkins's husband, Kenton, expects her to be at his beck and call every minute of the day, and she is getting tired of this life, but would she resort to murder?

Carol Butler is married to Emily's cousin, Damon. She thinks Damon is cheating on her with a woman he and Kenton helped move from Knoxville to Nashville. Damon swears the woman is gay, but Carol is not convinced. How far will she go to learn the truth?

Detectives Janice Carter and Harold Jones are called to a scene at the Jenkins' home in the Brentwood neighborhood of Nashville, Tennessee. Kenton Jenkins is found dead in his pool. It could have been an accident, but their instincts tell them it was murder.

There are no obvious clues, and the only two people who could be suspects have airtight alibis.  At the same time, other people could be responsible, who had a motive, and how will it be proven with no evidence to tie them to the scene?

Kenton Jenkins had secrets that no one suspected. Were those secrets enough to get him murdered?

Treacherous Secrets

Kenton slammed the front door when he entered the house. That fucking bitch still hadn't come home. He looked at his watch. It’s one in the morning. She might think she can hide from him, but he had connections, and he would find her. She was going to be sorry she pulled this shit. And Carol, he was going to straighten her ass out to too. Nobody dumps him, nobody. He's the one who dumps people. And Junior, what the fuck did he think he was doing telling Damon about Carol? This was all getting out of control. He should be in Louisville right now partying his ass off at the Derby Festival. Stupid, fucking idiots. 


He went into the kitchen and took a vial of powder out of the pocket of his suit jacket. He poured some of it out on the counter and took a business card out to get it lined up in two lines. He took a small, gold-plated tube out of the same pocket he'd had the vial in. Pushing one side of his nose closed, he leaned down and snorted the powder through the tube. He stood and sniffed. He bent and repeated the process using the opposite side of his nose. He stiffed again and then wiped his nose with a handkerchief he pulled out of the breast pocket of his jacket. 


"The bitch better have the good bourbon here, or I'll kick her ass for that too," Kenton mumbled as he opened the liquor cabinet door. He pushed the bottles around for a few minutes until he found what he was looking for. 


He looked up into the glass door of the cabinet and saw his reflection. He touched his swollen nose and black eye. He would deal with that Spic too. And he'd fire those damn Rodriquez's. They were a big part of the problem with Emily. Coddling her and giving her too much confidence. He'd fix that shit. 


Taking the bottle of bourbon and a tumbler he'd fished out of the cabinet, he went out to the patio and sat down at the patio table. He pulled the chair opposite him over so he could prop his feet up on it. He filled his glass and took a large drink out of it. Wiping his mouth, he looked around the pool area. Maybe he would go for a swim. He took off his jacket, took another big drink of whiskey, and then bent over and took off his shoes and socks. 


A pair of feet with neon green toenails appeared next to him. Kenton looked up at the owner of the feet. "That's really not your color." 


The blow was unexpected and came with such force that it snapped Kenton's head severely to the left. He tried to stand, but his balance was completely off. Stumbling forward, he fell against the chair; hitting his head at the temple in almost the same place his attacker had hit him. He was slipping from consciousness when he fell, smacking the other side of his head against the side of the pool before falling in. 


The attacker stood at the side of the pool for a few minutes watching the blood seeping out of Kenton's head color the water, and then tiptoed back out of the yard and disappeared into the night.


Chapter Eight