The Wrong Side of Dead

by Jordan Dane

  “You gotta let me help you, Seth. This can’t be how it goes down. Please…” She begged until he turned around, both of them drenched. “At least tell me where you’re going. I can meet you…and bring help.”

  Seth stood on the curb in front of the nursing home and stroked her cheek with his fingertips. His eyes were brimming and mixed with the rain trailing down his face. She reached for his hand and held it, pressing it against her cheek—her last-ditch effort to connect with him.

  “You’ve been a good friend, Jessie.” A faint smile touched his lips. “I wish…”

  He never finished his thought. Seth leaned and kissed her cheek, lingering enough for her to feel the warmth of his skin. She shut her eyes and let it happen. But as she opened them again, he had turned and walked away, leaving her standing in the rain as he headed for the van, his knapsack jostling on his shoulder.

  “Damn it, Seth,” she cursed under her breath and narrowed her eyes. “You’re not doing this alone.”

  He started the van and pulled away, leaving her to watch his red taillights from a distance as he turned a corner. She waited long enough so he wouldn’t see her grab her cell phone to make a call. Alexa would be able to track the movement of his van—her last hope.

  But Jess was faced with a dilemma.

  To get Harper the help he needed, she’d have to ask Alexa to follow the van without wasting precious time picking her up from the nursing home. And that meant she’d be left out of the fight. Nothing pissed her off more than sitting on the sidelines when a friend needed her in the game.

  But just as she hit the speed dial for Alexa’s number, another car down the street started its engine and flicked on its high beams. She shifted her gaze to the light. The car drove toward her. A dark Chevy Impala. It took a moment for her mind to register what Alexa had told her about the PI on her tail.

  “Hey, Jessie.” Alexa’s voice came on the line. “What’s up?”

  “Hang on. Something just came up.”

  Gut instinct gripped Jess by the throat and forced her to move.

  She shoved her open cell phone into the pocket of her windbreaker and ran for the Impala. Her feet splashed through puddles on the sidewalk until she cut across grass and vaulted over a low hedge of boxwoods. Darting into the street, she veered into the path of the car. Soaked and panting, she stood in the rain with her hair and clothes clinging to her body. The car’s headlights nearly blinded her.

  “No guts. No glory,” she muttered, squinting. In a two-fisted grip, she raised her Colt Python and aimed for the driver’s head, praying she was right. “Stop…or I’ll shoot!”

  The car screeched to a halt, and she heard a man yelling for her to get out of the road. She held her ground, forcing him to stop.

  “Get out of the car. NOW!” she yelled. “I won’t ask a second time.”

  When the man opened the door, he raised his hands and left the car running. “Don’t shoot. What’s going on? You need a ride?”

  “Luís? Is that you?” she asked. The Hispanic man flinched, enough for her to know she was right.

  “Yeah, who wants to know?”

  “I don’t have time to explain. Sorry, man.” She nudged the Colt, directing him to back up, and he obliged. “I need your wheels, but trust me, you want no part in this. Hopefully, we can share a brew and talk about it another time.”

  She directed him to the curb, where he stood in the headlights of the Impala. When he raised a hand to block the glare, she ordered him down on his belly with fingers locked behind his head. And the man did as he was told.

  Time to leave. Shivering from the chill of wet clothes, she hit the gas and sped away in his vehicle, taking a peek in the rearview mirror. The PI lunged off the sidewalk and chased after her, flailing his arms and shouting curses in Spanish.

  She reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out her cell. “You still there?”

  “Your powers of persuasion would be more impressive if you didn’t let your Colt Python do all the talking.”

  “Consider me bilingual.” She didn’t wait for Alexa to counter. “I need you to get in your car now and track the van. Be my eyes, and tell me where it goes.”

  Alexa didn’t hesitate or question her crazy request. Jess heard her move—the rustle of fabric, the ping of a computer, and the woman’s shallow breaths as she hustled out the door. And after Alexa gave her a quick reading on where the van was located, Jessie adjusted her course and headed to the general vicinity of Chicago.

  “I’m on my way…and I’ve got a clear signal,” Alexa told her. “Now talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Seth’s in trouble. Someone took his father, and Harper’s not gonna walk away from this without help.” She had a lot of explaining to do and not much time. “I’ll explain when I see you. Just follow his van and please…don’t lose it.”

  With her cell phone plugged into her ear, Jess listened to Alexa’s voice as she called out street names. She gripped the steering wheel of the Impala, speeding along streets she barely recognized, heading blindly in a general direction. Her gut twisted with a knot of fear that she’d be too late to help Harper and his father.

  “Damn it!”

  With Alexa unfamiliar with the Chicago area, she could only call out intersections as the van crossed. Many of the specific street names didn’t hold significance, especially not knowing which block. Jess veered onto freeways trying to make up ground, only to change direction and second-guess her choices.

  But all too soon, Alexa’s voice came on the line one final time.

  “He’s stopped. The van has stopped.” She gave the street name and the nearest intersection.

  Jess hit the gas and sped to the location. She wasn’t far away.

  Harper’s blue van was parked on a dark residential street in a shabby neighborhood—a hodgepodge of smaller dwellings built next to larger boardinghouses and vacated properties boarded up as condemned. Older estates had been converted into projects, once a grander residential neighborhood in the day. Now the structures stood amidst overgrown yards with cheap cyclone fences to catch blowing trash in their mesh. Deep ruts of muddy water and the litter of old tires and hulls of stripped cars on blocks marred front yards that had also seen better days.

  Only a few residences had lights on and many of the streetlamps weren’t working. The roads were murky with shadows, and gang signs were painted on Dumpsters and on front doors—a show of intimidation—even for those who had no idea what the symbols meant.

  But one of the larger houses to the left looked familiar. A recognizable pitch to a roof or its unique window shutters triggered a strange tightening deep in her belly. She glared at the house, searching her memory until she could no longer do it. A wave of nausea forced her to take deep breaths. She grasped the steering wheel tight until the queasy feeling went away.

  Stay focused, Jess! For Harper’s sake, she had to remain strong and not let her fears take root. This wasn’t about her. Seth and his father were depending on her.

  “What’s going on?”

  Jess wondered why anyone would have Seth drive here. She got out of the Chevy and stood in the middle of the street, turning to get her bearings. Down the street, she spotted headlights, and the car slowed as it drew near. She recognized Alexa’s rental car. The woman pulled in behind the Impala and parked, keeping headlights burning as she had done. They would need the light on such a dark night. The rain had died to wavering drizzle.

  “You okay?” Alexa asked as she got out, drawing her weapon and slamming her car door.

  “Yeah.” When she shifted her gaze toward the van, her heart lurched. “Let’s take a look inside.”

  She pulled her Colt Python, keeping her eyes on Harper’s vehicle, looking for any sign of movement. Alexa spoke to her in a soft voice, telling her she’d take the right side, but she barely heard her. Jess raised her weapon with both hands and headed for the van.

  “Seth…you there?” she called out, her voice
cracking under the weight of her emotion.

  No sound came from the van. And the street was deathly quiet. Something about the neighborhood sent shards of dark memories to cut her deep.

  Jess felt her eyes sting with tears and a lump wedged in her throat. She imagined Harper slumped behind the driver’s seat—dead—his brown eyes staring vacantly into the darkness. Pale skin splattered with his blood.

  She blinked back that horrifying picture and tightened the grip on her weapon, creeping closer to the driver’s door. After a deep breath, she swallowed hard and reached for the door handle. She yanked it open and aimed her weapon into the dark. Alexa did the same on the other side. Jess’s eyes searched the shadows, but nothing.

  They were too late.

  Seth was gone.

  CHAPTER 23

  A rush of guilt swept over Jessie as she stared into the shadows of the empty van. She should never have let Harper go. Not without a plan. Her breaths came in shallow pants, and rage stirred hot in her belly. She was just as mad at her own failure as at the bastard who now had Seth.

  “This is my fault.” She struggled for air, lowering her weapon. “I never should have let him go alone.”

  Alexa kept her silence for a moment, but eventually said, “Harper made his choice. He did what he had to do…for his father’s sake.” She let that sink in before she added, “And besides, he wasn’t really alone, not with a tracking beacon on the van. Whoever did this made a quick…” She stopped and turned around, not finishing her thought.

  Instead, she searched the area behind her, peering into the shadows for a closer look. Jess watched her move until her eyes gravitated to the eerie shadows of houses on the block, and a familiar sinking feeling roiled in her stomach. The street gave her the creeps.

  “What are you looking for?” she finally asked.

  Before the woman replied, Jess felt her heart lurch in her chest. She knew the answer before she said anything. Being more objective, Alexa’s judgment wasn’t clouded with the emotion she felt. If she had distanced herself, she might have done the same thing.

  “If they only intended to kill him,” her friend replied, “they wouldn’t have to take him far.”

  The idea of Harper being hauled from the van with his body dumped nearby sent a cold chill down her spine. Needles pricked her skin with newfound cruelty. She’d seen far too many ghastly images to last her a lifetime. Picturing Harper’s dead body came too easily.

  Alexa’s attention moved back to the van, and Jess breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t find his lifeless body. But until she found out what had actually happened to Seth, the waiting game would be a miserable gut-wrenching ride of speculation.

  Alexa probed the vehicle’s interior, and said, “There’s a backpack on the floorboard.”

  “Throw me his bag,” she insisted, leaning through the driver’s side. “He had it with him at the nursing home. I gotta see what was so important for him to carry.”

  Harper’s bag got tossed onto the driver’s seat, and Jess tore into it, searching for any clue where Seth had been taken. The canvas knapsack was damp from the rain, and the main compartment held something heavy, covered in white plastic to protect it. She unrolled the outer covering to see what he had inside, but Alexa’s voice distracted her.

  “Seth left his cell phone. Why would he do that?” she questioned. “If he’d left an open line, we might have had another way to track him…unless he didn’t want a crowd.”

  Engrossed in her own find, Jess barely heard what Alexa said, but from the corner of her eye, she saw that Harper’s cell had been left open and illuminated a small spot on the floorboard. Alexa had picked it up and punched buttons until something caught her eye.

  “Jessie, you better see this. Maybe this is why he didn’t want a crowd.” With a grave look on her face, Alexa held Seth’s phone toward her. A text message came up on his display, the letters all in caps.

  I CAN’T LIVE WITH WHAT I DID. I’M SORRY, FOR MY FATHER MOST OF ALL.

  “What the hell is that?” Jess hadn’t realized that she’d spoken, her outrage finding voice.

  “He sent it to you and others.” Alexa hesitated. “You think he’s suicidal?”

  “No way in hell,” she insisted. “You didn’t see his face. At the nursing home, he was scared shitless about Max. And he didn’t kill Mandy or Jade. You don’t know him like I do.”

  “Relax. I believe you.” Alexa narrowed her eyes. “That means someone is covering their ass…to make it look as if he’d take his own life and confess in the process. A nice tidy package for the cops.”

  Jess returned to rummaging through Harper’s bag. Plastic crinkled under her touch as a flurry of drizzling rain pelted her neck and damp hair. Everything was conspiring against her, even Mother Nature.

  She pulled out the contents of the plastic bag and laid it on the driver’s seat. But when she got a good look at it, shock gripped her, and she gasped. Air sucked into her lungs with a harsh sting.

  “Oh, God. No.”

  “What is it?” Alexa raised her voice. “What did you find?”

  Jess couldn’t make herself speak. Repulsed by what she found, she pulled back her hands as if she’d touched a hot stove. Her skin tingled with heat. And time stopped. Everything around her faded to nothing. A face that had haunted her past came back from the depths of her shame. And the overwhelming feeling of being powerless rushed from her memory, too easily reborn. The sensation had swallowed her, suffocating her in its vacuum.

  She had opened Max Jenkins’s case file, the one Seth had told her about.

  “No…this can’t be…happening.” Her own voice sounded as if it came from a long, empty tunnel—the voice of a stranger.

  And staring down at the old booking photo of Danny Ray Millstone triggered a surge of images from her past, shadowy memories that were just as threatening as if they’d happened only yesterday. His dead eyes stared back with the same menace.

  She felt hands on her and jumped.

  “Don’t…touch me,” she pleaded, cowering against a hard surface. Her body shook, and the nausea returned.

  “Are you…” a woman’s distant voice.

  But she couldn’t shake her deeply rooted fog until strong hands gripped her shoulders and shook her. That’s when the voice returned.

  “Jessie, are you okay? What’s wrong with you?”

  She blinked, and the blurred face of a blond woman emerged from the dark. It took a moment for her to recognize Alexa Marlowe.

  “Oh, God.” She winced. “What happened?”

  “You zoned on me, Jessie. What’s going on?” Alexa asked, standing next to her. “And what’s with this? It looks like a cop’s casebook?”

  Jess looked down where the woman pointed.

  “Yeah, it is. Max Jenkins’s case file. Seth’s father.” Jess shut her eyes tight and took a deep breath as she said, “But we don’t have time for a trip down memory lane. We gotta find Harper.”

  Seth had told her about his father’s casebook, but actually seeing it had an impact she never could have imagined. She couldn’t afford to let that happen again, yet she knew that would be impossible. It would be no different than telling her body to stop breathing.

  Slowly, her brain started to function again as Alexa said, “We should canvass the neighborhood. See if anyone saw anything.”

  “Not sure we have the time for that either,” she muttered. “Besides—in the ’hood—everyone is visually impaired when it comes to being a witness. But maybe Sam can help. I’ll give her a call.”

  She punched the speed dial on her cell, and while it rang, she turned toward Alexa, and asked, “You have the nearest street address or intersection on your laptop? I’ll need that.”

  She followed the woman to her rental car and looked over her shoulder as Alexa worked the keys on her laptop. A map of the area enlarged on the computer monitor as Sam’s recorded voice came over the line.

  “Damn it. It’s rolling into voice
mail.” Jess left a message, giving the location of the van and what she could share over the phone. She tried Sam’s home and work numbers, but had no better luck, so she left similar messages.

  “I noticed you left out the suicide text message,” Alexa said. When Jess glared at her, she shrugged. “Hey, I just wanted you to know I’m keeping up.”

  “This isn’t about suicide,” she explained. “I don’t want the cops to think they have a confession and get the wrong idea.”

  “Sister, we blew past wrong a long time ago. What now?”

  Good question. The thought of hitting a dead end left a hole in her heart. Whoever had done this had played it real cagey. Someone had Harper drop the van at a different location and taken him where they would have more privacy…and no trail to follow. Frustration wedged a lump in her throat.

  But as she stood in the middle of the street, she stared at the houses down the block, and déjà vu hit her hard. Why hadn’t she seen it before? She rushed to Alexa’s laptop to confirm what she suspected while Seth’s words at the nursing home replayed in her head.

  Trust me. It’s best to leave the past buried.

  At the time, she thought the past he’d been talking about had been his own, but maybe he had given her a clue without her realizing it. She knew that she was grasping at straws, but that was all she had. Jess clicked and scrolled through Alexa’s laptop until she got her answer, staring down at the street map on the screen—the tracking beacon dead center.

  “Unbelievable.” Jess took a jagged breath. “I think I know where Seth is.”

  She stared into the deep shadows on the east side of the street, a narrow gap between two buildings. The moment she did, her heart hammered a staccato beat—an undeniable reaction she couldn’t stop. She didn’t know if she was ready to do this. But it wasn’t about her now—at least it helped her to believe that.