Devils Among Us (Devin Dushane Series Book 1)

by Chastity Harris

  “Ooh, good one!” Shane chimed in.

  “And you two are detectives? I’m divorced, geniuses. I’m not even going to count that as one of your questions. Next.”

  Shane was ready with a question that surprised her. “Your necklace looks like it has letters in the design. What does it mean?”

  Devin rubbed the silver medallion that rested in the hollow at the base of her throat, between her thumb and fore finger. Often she forgot it was there because it was such a part of her. The leather band that held it around her neck was worn with wear. Most people thought it was an abstract design.

  “No one has ever noticed the letters before. I’m impressed.” He lit up, but she cut him off before he could toss in a cheesy come on. “Not that impressed. Save it.” He stuck his tongue out at her like a two-year-old.

  “My ex-sister-in-law had this made for me. I’m her son’s godmother. It’s the letter D wrapped around his initials.”

  “Let me get this straight, your ex-husband’s nephew is your godson? They picked you as the godmother, and now you’re estranged from the family? That must get interesting at birthday parties.” Adam was floored by this complication.

  “Actually, he was born after the divorce, and I’m not estranged from the family. I’m actually closer to them than my own family. Besides Carter and I have been best friends since we were sixteen. One bad decision in Atlantic City doesn’t change that fact.” Most people could never understand how she was so close to her ex-husband, especially considering his affairs, but they struck some sort of weird yin and yang balance that made sense for them.

  “So you were…” Adam didn’t get to finish his question, because Shane’s quick mind made the connection.

  “Wait. Carter Dushane? As in the Carter Dushane, point guard for the Lakers?” His voice was rising, and several people turned to look at them.

  “Shhh!” She was waving her hands as if trying to flag down a train. “Yes. Carter Dushane of the L.A. Lakers is my ex-husband. If you want tickets next time they’re in D.C. playing the Wizards, let me know, but for goodness’ sake, be quiet!” That’s all she needed just coming into town.

  “You were married to an NBA star. Wow, do you miss that whole life style?” She could tell by his awestruck look he was picturing club-hopping in SUV limos and sitting courtside with Hollywood stars.

  “It really wasn’t that glamorous. We were in college when we got married and just scraping by. After graduation he was drafted by the Suns. So he was in Phoenix with the team and I was…travelling.” She was purposely vague about her whereabouts and hoped they would be too caught up in her pseudo-celebrity status to notice.

  Shane was still mesmerized with grandiose thoughts of luxury. “So you were already married when he became a basketball star? That must have been a heck of divorce settlement. What did you get, a Ferrari?”

  Devin grimaced at the thought. “Lord no, don’t give him any ideas.” That was exactly the kind of thing Carter would do—leave a sports car parked on her curb. “I asked for quite a modest settlement, not that it’s any of your business.” She glared at him over her float, but he was un-fazed.

  “So you helped him launch his career, he’s making millions, and you got a modest settlement? Sounds like you had a crappy lawyer.”

  Adam looked like he would happily disappear under the table and let the two of them continue this discussion without him. She was still glaring at Shane when she answered. “My lawyer was fine. It was an uncontested amicable divorce. I just wanted enough of a settlement to get me on my feet since I didn’t have a job yet, but Carter has always been overly generous where I’m concerned, so he still sends me alimony. Again, not that it’s any of your business. Are you always this nosy? Or do you just enjoy being rude to me in particular?”

  She had the feeling that he was used to smoothing things over with his charming smile, but she was unmoved and continued to give him a stare that could freeze lava. He just smiled wider.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Yeah, he’s sorry, all right. A sorry excuse for a human being!

  “This doesn’t speak well of my southern hospitality does it? I’ve just never met a millionaire’s wife before, and my curiosity got the best of me.”

  “Ex-wife.” Why do I have to keep repeating that lately? “And I’m nobody special, just a regular cop.”

  He spoke so low she almost didn’t catch what he said. “Oh, I’d wager you’re very special.”

  She heard Adam mutter into the ice of his now empty tea glass “Here we go again.”

  You have got to be kidding me! This jerk cannot be thinking of hitting on me after he just quizzed me on my financial status. How do I always attract these God’s gift to women types? Why not someone like Adam, clean cut, stable…? No not me. I get Mr. Smooth.

  She had to admit that even if Adam was interested, he really wasn’t her type. Where was the danger, the excitement in someone so…khaki.

  Before she could laugh out loud at the conversation in her head, Devin decided to cut the whole thing off at the pass. “The sheriff has been so hospitable. I don’t want him to think I’m taking advantage of his kindness by keeping you two from your work. We’d best get back.” She could tell Shane was getting ready to object so she added, “And I still have a lot of files to go through this afternoon.”

  Two hours later Devin was wishing she was back at the diner enjoying her root beer float. The case files were full of holes and unanswered questions. She was pressing her fingers to her temples, reading the Medical Examiner’s report, when Shane walked in with a diet soda for her.

  “Need a break or an Aspirin?”

  She took the drink from him and cracked it open. “Oh, bless you.” He waited while she took a long swig. “I think I could actually use one of each. This case had so many dead ends. None of the evidence leads anywhere, and forensic science was basically nonexistent back then. You should see the ME’s report.” She tossed the file onto the table.

  Shane picked up the report and started reading over the first page. “Blunt force trauma? I thought she was stabbed.”

  “She was, but she took a brutal beating first, and the ME believed she was already dead when she was stabbed seventeen times.”

  Shane let out a low whistle. “Seventeen times? After she’d already been beaten to death?”

  “I know, my criminal psychology professor would say that’s a lot of rage.” She set down her drink and took the file back from him, flipping into a few pages. “My gut tells me this was personal, not a random stranger. Look at this—” she pointed to a section in the report “—six broken ribs, a broken pelvis, cracked skull, shattered jaw and cheek bone…it would be easier for me to tell you what wasn’t broken. The ME believed one of the first blows knocked her unconscious, so all of this was just for the sake of violence. Take a look at these crime scene photos, they’re brutal.”

  She dug the photos out of a box and slid them over to Shane. “Whoa!” His gasp and look of shock were understandable.

  “I know, I know. It’s disturbing. It looks like a younger version of me just broken and bloody, but look beyond that to the state of the crime scene and her body. This was a very violent attack fuelled by rage.” He was still looking a little green as he flipped through the images, but he was able to regain himself enough to provide an opposing argument.

  “It still doesn’t mean it was personal. Lots of serial killers have pent-up rage issues that they express through killing.” It was true and logical, but Devin still didn’t like this almost stranger playing devil’s advocate.

  “I know that,” she snapped. “I did my thesis on the psychology behind serial killers. It’s just that this girl was so beloved, so perfect, that for her to be singled out would be a pretty strong coincidence. There were a lot of girls there that night. If it was random the killer could have picked any one of them, and it would have been a lot more difficult to cut her from the pack. People would notice her absence.”

 
; Shane rolled her statement around in his mind a bit. “True, but maybe the killer had been spurned by a girl like Laney. Maybe the perfect beloved teen is the victim type he was searching out. That’s why he was at the Summit—he was searching out the popular teen queen in her natural element. The Summit back in its day would have been a perfect hunting ground.”

  She scowled at him. That had been her next line of logic. The Summit was well off the beaten path, and there was only one road in and out, it was your destination, not a pit stop.

  “Still, to find out about the Summit, he would have had to be in town scoping for just such a spot. It wasn’t the kind of place that advertised. He would have had to ask about it out right or done some serious eavesdropping. Either way it would have been very suspicious behavior, and strangers don’t exactly blend in around here.” Devin had been twirling a pen in her hand and turned it to point to herself at her last words.

  Shane grinned. “Maybe you just stand out.” He couldn’t keep a straight face when she cocked an eyebrow at him. “All right maybe we do a head count every night before bed time to make sure no one has snuck in or out.” Her snort was very unladylike, but he went on. “How do you propose to find this very personal killer after all this time?”

  “First I want to know how the killer got her away from the pavilion. The report says she was found in the woods more than 300 yards from the pavilion. It’s unlikely that a teenage girl that likes to be the life of the party would go walking alone, in the woods, in the dark. To take her by force was risking exposure in a crowd that size. The police report can account for 123 people that were there that night. I think it’s more likely that she went willingly with her killer, more than that I think she trusted her killer to walk off into the darkness with them.”

  Shane had no argument for her this time, he looked stumped. “You rely heavily on the psych, huh?”

  Devin grinned at him. “Psychology, evidence and gut, but not necessarily in that order. I wouldn’t be so good at my job if I didn’t look where no one else thought to. Mostly, though, I’ll start where I always do—motive. Who would have wanted Laney dead? We already said she was beloved and popular. I mean she was the prom queen for Pete’s sake, but there was obviously someone who hated her enough or was enraged enough to brutally kill her.”

  At that moment Devin had no idea the surprising number of people she was about to uncover that had reason to murder Laney Bennett. Nor did she realize that she was already becoming a target herself, because there was someone in Fenton who wanted this secret kept with the dead.

  Chapter 7

  Devin had been sitting in her car for almost fifteen minutes. She was eyeing the bar across the street. Since she didn’t drink very often, she rarely hung out in bars, and she didn’t relish going into this one, either. In just about any type of community, though, the local pub was the best spot for getting the gossip, both old and new, and this was the bar both Henry and Adam had recommended for getting to know the locals. So with a sigh, she slid out of her car and set the alarm.

  The Lucky Ox gave you the feeling that thousands of beers had been consumed at the long, dark-bar top, and by the smell of it, ten times that many cigarettes had been smoked there. The ceiling was low, and Devin couldn’t decide if it made the room cozier or more like a dark, dank dungeon. She had developed the habit of taking stock of her surroundings any time she was in a new setting. It was a survival instinct. She took note that it was fairly empty for a Monday evening, only about a dozen patrons. Henry was sitting at the bar chatting with the bartender and two other customers that appeared to be in their early sixties. None of them were paying attention to the sports replays on the small color TV above the bar. There were four pool tables in the first half of the long room then a worn juke box that had seen better days. She doubted if the young blondes playing pool were a day over 17.

  I wonder where kids get good fake I.D.s in Fenton. The rest of the customers were sitting at the tables in the back of the bar, becoming louder with their freedom from the work day and the more beer they consumed.

  Devin made her way to the bar and hiked up onto the stool next to Henry. “Hi, neighbor.”

  He had been engrossed in his conversation and hadn’t seen her until that moment. “Devin! Here I thought I’d surprise you by meeting you here this evening, and you’re the one that sneaks up on me.”

  She couldn’t help but like Henry, and she grinned at him. “Your truck parked out front kind of gave you away.”

  Henry glanced over his shoulder to where his friends sat. “Guys, this is my lovely new neighbor I was telling you about. Bobby Bennett’s girl, Devin Dushane.” She didn’t know if she would ever get used to being introduced as “Bobby’s girl,” but she kept her smile in place. “Devin, this is Roger Lawson and Pete Meadows.” He motioned his head to the two behind him. “And the big teddy bear tending bar is Chuck Rinker.”

  The last name struck a cord in Devin’s memory. She scanned through the files from today in her mind to make the connection. It took only seconds to click. “Chuck Rinker, as in the Rinkers that owned the Summit?” He was only in his forties, so she knew it couldn’t be the same man.

  “That was my Daddy, as a matter of fact. I’m Charles, Jr., but I prefer Chuck. We do still own the property out at the Summit, but it’s mostly a day use facility for picnics and such. It was never the same after Laney.”

  Devin could see why Henry had recommended this place. There were a lot of locals and a lot of memories.

  “Did you know my aunt?”

  “Knew of her is probably more accurate. On Saturdays we used to ride our bikes down to the diner and get milkshakes just so she would wait on us.” He smiled at the memory. “She never treated us like the bunch of snot-nosed kids we were, she treated us like we were grown. Boy, if you got a wink from Laney or if she ruffled your hair…whew-ee! That was bragging rights for a week.” His smile faded a bit. “It was a real shame what happened to her, there was never a nicer person.”

  Everyone at the bar nodded in agreement and stared into their drinks, drowning in their memories of Laney for a moment until Chuck blew out a rush of air.

  “I thought bartenders were supposed to be good listeners, and here I go prattling on letting a pretty lady go thirsty. What can I get you, dear?”

  Devin eyed the draft beers that Henry and his friends were enjoying but ordered a bottled light beer instead. It was much easier to nurse a drink in a dark bottle, because it was harder to see how much you had actually consumed, especially if you kept your hand wrapped around the bottle.

  After an hour Devin was glad she was only through about half of her beer. With a clear mind, she could better keep track of all the stories she was hearing about her dad and her aunt. No details had emerged that could crack the case by any means, but she was getting a great feel for the community around the time of Laney’s murder.

  A few of the boys from the back of the bar had made their way up to the two young blondes playing pool and were getting increasingly loud and pushy. Devin turned around on her stool and rested her back against the bar to keep an eye on the situation. No one else seemed particularly concerned about these three drunken Romeos, but the two girls were beginning to look like they were in over their heads. Devin was just turning to ask Henry who these guys were when the loudest of the three tried to wrap his arms around one of the girls.

  “Get off me, creep!” The girl’s shrill cry tore through the noise of the bar. Despite her struggles, he was not letting go, a fact which his friends found hilarious. The second blonde looked like she was about to bolt.

  Devin glanced down the bar to see who was going to break up this little interlude, but apparently the sports clips on TV had become mesmerizing and no one would make eye contact with her.

  “Seriously?” Devin asked the room at large and then pushed off her stool, leaving her beer on the bar. As she made her way over to the little group everyone in the bar turned to watch. I guess the sports program
must have gone to a commercial.

  Easing into a situation was not exactly her style, so she walked straight up to the couple tapped the guy on the shoulder and used his moment of surprise to slide in between the two as if she were cutting in on the dance floor.

  “Hey, how’s it going?” she asked brightly. It took his alcohol-fogged mind a moment to realize that Devin was moving backwards with his intended behind her.

  “Hey! This is a private moment, if you don’t mind. You can have your turn in a minute, sweetheart.” Devin rolled her eyes as her new drunken friend raked his eyes over her.

  In your dreams, slug.

  Someone had entered the bar and taken the stool next to her empty one. She didn’t look over, but she just knew who it would be—Shane. Trust Adam not to be able to keep his mouth shut.

  She focused her attention on the leering redneck in front of her. “Yeah, well, I don’t think she really wanted to be part of your little moment, so you need to head back to your corner of the bar and find someone else to harass.”

  Devin reached back with her left hand to push the girl further away, but when she did, the drunk caught her right wrist and yanked her towards him. “I’m gonna need a little entertainment, so if you wanna take her place…”

  At that moment she was aware of every sound in the bar, the snickering of his drunken friends, the sharp intake of breath at the bar, and the retreat of the two girls behind her. She went completely still and fixed him with her blackest stare. “Didn’t your mama ever teach you to keep your hands to yourself?”

  “No, but my daddy taught me how to handle mouthy little wildcats.” He took another step closer. “You just need to know your place.”

  Devin still hadn’t moved. “Second warning—take your hands off me.” In her peripheral vision, she saw Henry stand up, but before she could tell him to stay where he was, someone pulled him back. Shane, maybe? How chivalrous.

  “Baby we could have some fun.”