Silent is the Grave

by Candle Sutton

  The three men watched them.

  Even from here, he could feel their evil intent. It took little imagination to guess what those men might have in mind.

  What he couldn’t guess, though, was what Elly was thinking.

  And why the heck wasn’t Morgan stepping in? Of all the times to let him take the lead, he had to choose now, when they were dealing with a naïve and obstinate woman?

  “Elly.” He gentled his tone. “Please trust me. It’s not safe here. Our job is to make sure you don’t get hurt. Help us do that by getting in the car.”

  She looked around, maybe seeing the neighborhood for the first time. “You see danger. I see hurting people who need to know God loves them.”

  She slid into the back seat.

  A sigh leaked from him as he closed the door. Why wasn’t he surprised that she didn’t see the danger around her?

  He met Morgan’s eyes.

  “Thanks for the assist.” Sarcasm dripped off the words.

  Morgan grinned. “You were doin’ just fine on your own.”

  Right. More likely Morgan was still trying to hook him up with Elly.

  Zander dropped into the passenger seat, adjusting the side mirror so he could keep an eye on the three men. Who still hadn’t moved.

  As far as intimidation tactics went, it was a good one.

  Morgan put the car in gear.

  “Was it really that dangerous?” Hesitation marked Elly’s voice.

  Hesitation but not fear. Was she tougher than she looked? Or just that clueless?

  “Yes.” Morgan answered when Zander remained silent. “Those men are gang members. Stingers. They’re known for being violent for no good reason.”

  A beat of silence. “I’m sorry to have put you both in that position.”

  Them? What about the danger to her? Did she have no concept of self-preservation?

  If so, then the task of keeping her safe would be significantly more difficult than he’d originally anticipated. Especially if she insisted on inserting herself into the investigation as she had today.

  Morgan made a left turn, leaving the Stingers and their unspoken threats behind them. “Comes with the job. We’re more concerned about you. Hows about you leave the police work to us?”

  The silence lasted a beat too long. “Monica needs help. She’s more likely to trust me than you.”

  “Don’t matter. We need you to stay outta it.” Morgan didn’t wait for a reply before continuing, “You got a car around here that we can drop you at?”

  “I took the bus. If you’re looking to get rid of me, you could drop me at the center. Ooor…” She let the word hang for a second, “You could take me with you. I can help you find her.”

  Oh, heck no. He swiveled to look at her and offered a forced smile. “Thanks, but–”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  What the…? Zander whipped around to face Morgan. Was the man out of his mind?

  “You could spot her faster than we can and if we find her, maybe convince her to talk to us.”

  So the idea had some validity but seriously. Carting a civilian, and a reckless one at that, around with them? “Can’t. Not without a signed waiver of liability. You know that.”

  “Waiver of liability?” Elly looked between the two of them.

  “Yeah. Basically saying you won’t sue the department if something happens to you while you’re with us. Police work is dangerous.” Zander didn’t look at Morgan to see if he had his partner’s support.

  Didn’t matter either way. He was right and they both knew it.

  “So give me a waiver and I’ll sign it.”

  “We don’t just keep all the paperwork with us all the time.”

  “Then how about a piece of paper and I’ll write out my own.” Elly placed a hand lightly on his arm. “We’re losing valuable time while Monica is out there somewhere.”

  “There’s a pad in the glovebox, kid.”

  Zander glared at Morgan. He knew there was a pad in the glovebox, but that was beside the point.

  Well, looked like he’d lost this round, anyway.

  He pulled out the pad and handed it back to her.

  The sound of the pen scratching across the paper filled the now silent car. A minute later she handed the pad back.

  Printed in neat letters were the words “I choose to ride with Zander and Morgan and do not hold them or the police liable for any incident or injury.” Her signature, a flowy scroll that was easily read, graced the bottom.

  Definitely not protocol and probably would land them in hot water if anything happened, but she was right about one thing. They were losing valuable time.

  Morgan glanced at the note briefly. “Now that we’ve got that covered, let’s go.”

  A smile shot across Elly’s face. “Great. If I see her, I’ll let you know.”

  They cruised a block in silence before Morgan spoke again. “So, Elly. What made you choose San Francisco? Know someone here?”

  “No. God chose it. I just followed His lead.”

  She brought up God more than anyone Zander had ever met. And given that he’d been raised in the Catholic church, that said a lot.

  “So how does this thing with you and God work anyway?” Skepticism lined Morgan’s words, but Zander doubted she’d pick up on it. “Do you hear an audible voice?”

  “Are you asking if I hear voices?” Her laugh filled the car. “No, I don’t hear an audible voice. I hear Him in my heart.”

  “So how do you know it’s Him?”

  “When Detective Salinas calls you on the phone, how do you know?”

  “You mean besides the fact my phone tells me it’s him?” Morgan slid a glance toward him. “I recognize the voice.”

  “It’s the same with me and God. His voice may not be audible, but I recognize the ways in which He speaks.”

  It made sense, although how she could know it was God and not her own imagination was lost on him.

  Time to get this conversation on more comfortable ground. “So are you traveling with family? Friends?”

  “My brothers.”

  His gaze slid over the people walking on the sidewalk outside their window as he processed that. “Do they help at the youth center, too?”

  “No. Zeke’s passion is working with the homeless, while Josiah runs ministries inside the prison.”

  All three of them volunteering in a foreign country? Weird family. What ever happened to doing touristy things? The boat to Alcatraz or Pier 39?

  “And you all live on a boat? Sounds crowded.” Maybe they were a close family.

  “It’s a pretty big boat.”

  “Always thought it’d be kinda interesting doing the houseboat thing.” Morgan paused at an intersection before hanging a left. “You’re moored in a marina?”

  “We are. It’s easier than drifting at sea, although we could do that, too.”

  “You like it?”

  Wasn’t Morgan the chatty Cathy today? At least it beat the three of them sitting in awkward silence.

  “I love it.” Passion lined Elly’s words. “But then again, I grew up in the ocean. I guess you could say the sea is a part of me.”

  To each their own. He’d take solid ground any day.

  The ocean was too wild and unpredictable… much like Elly herself. Seriously. What kind of woman went into the heart of gang territory in a foreign city by herself?

  “Wait.”

  Morgan slammed the brakes at Elly’s single word. “You see…?”

  The door was already open, Elly striding across the sidewalk while Zander fumbled for his seat belt. “We need to have a serious talk with her about the way things are done.”

  He threw open his door as she disappeared into an alley. He jogged after her, his attention moving up and down the street.

  A few homeless people, but no sign of gangs.

  Yeah. They were probably in that alley. Maybe she’d share Jesus with them and they’d all change.

  And m
aybe he’d win the lotto and be elected president.

  He reached the alley. She was at the end of the building, where the alley intersected with the next street over.

  Moved pretty fast for someone her size.

  He broke into a jog.

  Not that he needed to. She looked to her right, then her left, but didn’t move.

  Reaching her side, he slowed to a stop. “Did you see her?”

  “I thought so, but if I did, I lost her.”

  He scanned the street. A number of people walked this road, ranging from construction workers to businessmen in three-piece suits, tourists to gang members, homeless to well-dressed.

  If Monica was here, she’d managed to merge with the crowd.

  “Look, Ms. Levi–”

  “Elly.”

  He fought the urge to shake her. “Elly. If you’re going to help us, you need to communicate. You can’t go running off on your own.”

  “I’m sorry.” She turned the full force of those purple eyes on him.

  His anger dissolved. How could he be angry when she was so earnestly sincere?

  “This is all new to me.” She sighed. “I thought I saw Monica and just had to try to reach her.”

  Morgan pulled up to the curb in front of them.

  “Well, next time wait for me, okay?”

  The last thing they needed was a repeat of the Stingers’ incident from earlier. If she kept rushing off on her own, she was going to get herself killed.

  And maybe take him and Morgan down with her.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  A tremor rocked Monica’s hand as she pushed her hair behind her ears.

  That’d been close.

  If it’d just been that lady from the shelter, maybe she would’ve stopped, but the lady hadn’t been alone. She’d had those men with her.

  Cops. They hadn’t been in uniform but she’d bet her life that’s what they were.

  She couldn’t trust them.

  Glancing behind her, she slipped down another alley. Halfway down, she stopped by a chain link fence and peeled back the bottom corner. She slipped through the small gap and slid down the alley.

  The alley opened into what had been her and Jessie’s safe zone, the place they’d come when they weren’t staying at the youth center or spending the night with a man twice their age.

  Weeds overran the raised flower beds that someone had – at one time – taken great care to build. A wooden gazebo, dilapidated with age and turned gray by the weather, stood in the center of the garden.

  She entered the gazebo and pried up the floorboards under the bench. Tears fell as she removed Jessie’s blanket.

  She didn’t try to stop them. Hugging the blanket to her chest, she blinked the tears down her cheeks as she looked around the twelve foot by twelve foot garden that Jessie had loved.

  They didn’t know who owned the garden, only that they’d never seen another living person in it.

  Obviously the businesses in the bordering buildings couldn’t be bothered with its upkeep.

  Jessie had wanted to transform it. Dreamed of all the pretty flowers she could plant. Talked about how nice it would be to have a few palm trees bordering the entrance to the gazebo. Jessie had loved palm trees.

  Not that she’d ever had the money to spend on such useless junk.

  No, Jessie had spent all her earnings keeping the two of them – Monica’s hand went to her stomach, which was just starting to protrude – three of them, alive. Just like Monica imagined a big sister would.

  Her stomach gurgled. She hadn’t eaten since last night. And even then, the half-eaten hamburger she’d stolen off a table before the server had cleared it wasn’t that much.

  Certainly not enough to sustain two lives.

  The tears came harder, obscuring the scenery in front of her. What would she do now? She hadn’t worked in two months, not since she found out about the baby.

  And now she’d left what little money she’d had, not to mention most of her belongings, behind.

  She couldn’t go back to the youth center, not with the killer and the cops hanging around.

  And she definitely couldn’t go back to the massage parlor. When she’d escaped two months ago, she’d known it was for good. Images of what they’d done to previous escapees flooded her memory.

  No, there was no going back. Not even if she wanted to.

  Monica pulled her knees up, burying her face in the blanket pinched between her knees and her chest, and let the sobs overwhelm her.

  The only person in the world who’d cared enough to help her was gone. She was completely, utterly alone.

  Four

  Zander slung his duffel over his shoulder and mounted the steps of the youth center. With yesterday’s murder, he hadn’t made it down here to work with the boys like he usually would on a Tuesday evening.

  Murder or no murder, these kids needed him.

  He most certainly was not here to see Elly.

  Then why was he scanning the lobby?

  He shook himself.

  Get it together. He was here for the kids, not to pick up some foreign religious chick who wouldn’t be around for more than a few months.

  Scents of garlic and tomato lingered in the air. Smelled like spaghetti night. At nearly seven, the kids would’ve already eaten.

  “Zander!” Felipe, a ten year old runt with more enthusiasm and energy than should fit in his tiny body, vaulted down the stairs and skidded to a stop in front of him. “You’re here!”

  Before he could reply, Marcus sauntered over and gave a single upward chin jerk. “‘Sup. You missed last night.”

  Ah, Marcus. Always trying so hard to be cool. “Yeah, a new case will do that to you.”

  Marcus’ gaze sharpened. “You workin’ that Jessie thing?”

  Word had gotten around. Naturally. “Yeah. You know her?”

  Marcus shrugged. “Said hi a time or two. She was hot.”

  And a few years older. Reason enough for any hot-blooded teenage boy to try to catch her eye. In spite of the youth center’s strict no fraternization rule. “Don’t suppose you saw anything?”

  Marcus shook his head. “Nah. I wasn’t even here when that went down.”

  Possibly the truth. He hadn’t remembered seeing Marcus when he’d gotten here, although that didn’t mean Marcus hadn’t been here earlier and just booked it out before the police showed.

  He shifted to Felipe. “How about you, my man? See anyone strange hanging around yesterday?”

  Felipe bounced like he’d had too much caffeine. “Just the police. And the exterminator. Do you think this place has snakes? That’d be cool.”

  Yeah, just great.

  But the exterminator might be a lead worth following up. “What time was that?”

  Felipe looked at him like he’d suggested aliens were doing mind control experiments on them. “I dunno. After lunch, I guess.”

  The murder was after lunch. And exterminators did typically wear uniforms. Maybe there was something there.

  Well, he could follow-up with Betty later.

  Marcus looked past him and straightened, tossing his head so his long-ish hair fell across his forehead.

  Must be a girl. That was the only explanation for the “look at me, I’m cool” pose.

  “Detective Salinas?”

  The voice reached his ears before he could turn.

  Elly.

  His heart stuttered.

  Stupid. It wasn’t like he’d never talked to her before.

  In fact, he’d talked to her a lot today. When she’d pushed her way into his investigation. He tried to dredge up his earlier irritation, but it had fled the scene.

  He turned with a smile. “Around here, it’s just Zander.”

  “Is there news?”

  “No. I owe these guys a game.” He lightly elbowed Marcus. “What do you think? Soccer? Or basketball?”

  He hoped the kid would pick soccer. He was a lot better at that than basketball.


  Marcus scuffed his shoe on the worn hardwood floor. “Whatever.”

  In spite of his lack of enthusiasm, Marcus would join in whatever they did and would have a good time. The kid just wasn’t one to show his interest.

  Way too cool for that.

  “Soccer!” Felipe practically bounced. “Me and you against them.”

  Them? He arched an eyebrow at Elly. “Sounds like you’ve been drafted.”

  “Evidently.” She laughed. “So what’s soccer?”

  Was she kidding? “Black and white ball that you kick into a goal, can’t touch it with your hands?”

  A blank look met him.

  How could she not know what soccer was?

  “Well, I’m always up to learning new things.”

  He nodded at Marcus. “Hows about you round up some teams, huh?”

  Felipe flew down the hallway, yelling about a soccer game starting in five minutes.

  Without a word, Marcus sauntered off.

  Between the two of them, they’d have a team assembled in no time. He turned his attention back to Elly. “I can’t believe you didn’t have soccer in your country.”

  “There are a lot of things that you have that we don’t.”

  Well that was certainly cryptic. “Like what?”

  “All sorts of things. Television, bridges, fog, teenage girls who are murdered–”

  “So what, you’re from a land of sunshine, rainbows, and tranquility?”

  “I guess you could say that.”

  He needed to learn a lot more about this place she came from. “What did you say it was called again?”

  “Zander. Hey, it’s about time.” He turned to find Pedro, a seventeen-year-old who toed the line between making something of himself and turning to a life of crime. “You flaked on us yesterday, man.”

  “Had a few other things going on.”

  Pedro’s short black curls dusted the top of his head. “So have you solved that Jessie thing yet?”

  “You think it’s so easy, maybe you should become a cop.”

  Pedro snorted. “Right.”

  “I’m serious. You’d be a good one.” He’d thought it more than once. Pedro had street smarts, but more than that, the kid had heart. He really cared, even if he tried to hide it behind a cool demeanor.

  “Sure.” Pedro turned to Elly, towering a good head above her. “You playing, too?”