Sinner Reborn

by Morgan Kelley

  Callie stared at her. “What do you mean?”

  “After she handed her over to my maw-maw, she never bothered with her. She didn't brush her hair or hug her. My mother didn't want to be near her. When she would look at Avalon, she always looked so sad. It was like the girl haunted her.”

  That was curious.

  “And your grandmother?”

  “She tried to do right by Avalon. She really did, but she wasn’t easy to handle. When we were kids, I’d remember her screaming in the middle of the night, and my maw-maw, calling the reverend to come over. It was like she was possessed.”

  Yeah, or she was a child with a very strong psychic gift. Callie didn't know everything, but she knew enough about Oracle to have a clue.

  “And?”

  “He’d come over, talk to Avalon, and then leave. Usually, he’d look all freaked out, like she was…”

  “Evil?” Quinn asked, using the same term she used.

  “I know it’s wrong to fear her, but Avalon never fit in here. She looked like us, but she was broken inside.”

  They made notes.

  “Is she still alive?” the woman asked.

  “Yes, she is.”

  “Did someone lock her away in the looney bin? I don’t think she was all right up here,” Sarah said, touching her head.

  “No, she’s not institutionalized.”

  Well, unless you called the US government an asylum.

  “I guess that’s good. She never came back after she went off to school, so I’m assuming that she was just as glad to get away from us.”

  Yeah, this girl was oblivious to the real world.

  “Your mother, did she come into money?” Quinn asked, as he made notes.

  Sarah laughed. “It was more like money came into her. She shacked up with some old man who shared his DNA and gave her two more kids. Then he dropped dead.”

  Yeah, that was convenient.

  “So, yeah, she’s rolling in it. My mom never had to work a day in her life, and she never will.”

  Callie knew how hard motherhood was, but she wasn’t exactly feeling kindly toward Sarah’s mother. After all, she abandoned one of her kids.

  “You wouldn’t happen to know who Avalon’s father is, would you?”

  She laughed. “Satan perhaps? From the way my maw-maw spoke, you’d think she was right from the fiery pits of hell and the devil’s loins.”

  Neither Quinn or Callie found it amusing.

  “So, she’s never mentioned him?”

  The woman shook her head. “My mom won’t discuss Avalon. She wouldn’t do it then, and she absolutely won’t now. If anyone would know who my sister’s daddy was, it would have been my maw-maw. She would have beat it out of her daughter or made her confess it to the priest.”

  Well, that was a dead end.

  She was dead, and it wasn’t likely that the priest would spill the beans—not in a small town like this.

  “What about Frank? How close was he to Avalon?”

  The woman, if suspicious, didn't let on. She kept spewing information and gossip. This was the easiest interview Quinn had ever had.

  “Oh, he wasn’t close with Avalon. He was best friends with my momma. They would hang out and do everything together when they were kids. Frank is…was like the father we never had. He always took care of us.”

  Quinn closed up his notebook. “Where’s your mother?”

  “She rarely comes back here.”

  “Not even for her own mother’s funeral?” Callie asked. That was astounding to her.

  “I called her and told her, but she said she couldn’t do it, so we had it without her. My mom is generally all about her. Our family, or what’s left of it, is generally a mess.”

  “How many are left?” Callie asked.

  “There’s my brother, me, my mom, and I think a cousin. That’s about it. It’s like the Millers have a curse on them. We’re a dying breed. Now that Frank is gone, and he never married, there are not a lot of men left to carry on the name.”

  Quinn understood. That’s why he hoped they were having a boy.

  “We’re going to need to talk to your mother,” Callie stated. “Is there any way you can give us her number, or get her to call me?” she asked.

  “I can do that,” she offered, taking the business card from Callie. On the back, she scribbled down her mother’s cell phone. “She probably won’t call you back, but good luck.”

  “We’re sorry for your loss, and we hope to hear from you soon,” stated Quinn, taking Callie’s hand.

  Outside, he replayed the interview over and over again. “I can’t help but feel bad for Avalon Miller.”

  “Yeah, me too. Her family sucks,” Callie stated, dropping on her sunglasses. Then she ran her hand over her belly. “I would never call my baby names and leave her behind.”

  “So it’s a girl?” Quinn asked.

  She laughed. “I don’t know. You wanted to wait, remember?”

  “I just thought you knew something I didn't know.”

  Callie gave him a kiss on his whiskered cheek. “Nope. I’m just guessing.”

  He relaxed. “I need a boy. I’m already drowning in estrogen. Suzie covered me in makeup when I was napping on the couch. I looked like a three dollar whore after a rough Saturday night.”

  She snorted. “Yeah, and I have the pictures for blackmail.”

  “Callista Gaines!”

  Her laugher filled the vehicle. “Just drive, big guy. We have a reverend to see.”

  He stared at her. “You need to be spanked.”

  “Don’t tease, Quinton. You know how I like being over your knee.”

  What could he say to that?

  Absolutely nothing.

  So, he did what she asked.

  Quinn drove.

  * * * C a r t e r - G a i n e s * * *

  As soon as they were gone, he pulled out his phone and called the boss. He’d want to know what was happening, and as of late, the man behind this mission was getting erratic and crazy.

  There was no point pissing him off.

  On the third ring, he answered the phone. “What?”

  “Your intel was right. We followed them to the house, and we don’t know what you want us to do. If we take her, won’t they get suspicious?” he asked.

  “You idiot! They’re already suspicious. You got spotted at a funeral, and now you’re calling to bother me. You have your orders, how about you follow them?”

  “So, it’s a go?” he asked, getting confirmation.

  “Yes. Get anything from her that you can, do what I originally asked, and report back to me with your findings. I need a lead. Make it happen.”

  “And do you care how my men do it?” he asked.

  “No. If anyone gets in your way, stop them. Do you hear me?”

  The man watched the pretty blonde getting ready to get into her car. “I hear you. We’re taking her someplace private. She lives with someone.”

  “Fine! Just get it done. I need to know where Avalon Miller is, and I need to make sure the truth doesn’t get out!”

  When the call ended, he motioned to his partner in crime. “Grab her. We’re to interrogate her until she tells us what we need.”

  “Any means?” Thomas asked, as he rubbed his hands together.

  Clarence laughed. “Yep. Have fun with her, but bag up. You’re not to leave your DNA allover her. Do you hear me? One more slip up, and he’s going to make our heads roll.”

  The man grinned as he slipped out of the Escalade. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” Pulling on his black leather gloves, he crept out of their hiding place.

  From inside the vehicle, Clarence watched his partner work. He effortlessly approached the woman, putting on that smile, and when she looked up at him, batting those big blue eyes, he hit her.

  She didn't see it coming, and the punch to the face took her to her knees. When she crumbled, he caught her.

  Well, that was fast. His partner didn't mess arou
nd, and that was probably a good thing.

  Thomas carried her to the vehicle, and then he threw her in the back. “Dumb slut,” he muttered, checking to make sure he didn't bust a knuckle. “This should be easy,” he stated, as he hopped in and they pulled away.

  Clarence hoped so. The boss was getting bitchy.

  And that was a very bad thing.

  * * * C a r t e r - G a i n e s * * *

  Jagger waited until the coast was clear.

  When it was, he entered the home that once belonged to Frank Miller. Unlike the Feds, he wasn’t going to go in the front door, cutting the police tape.

  He wasn’t an idiot.

  No, he’d been trained to be sneaky, so Jagger was going to use those skills.

  So, he scaled the fence surrounding the back of the yard and got access that way.

  Once inside, he was surprised.

  Jagger was expecting a bachelor pad, and he was mistaken. This place looked well lived in and from the décor, the man couldn’t have been too young. There were no beer cans, no booze bottles, and the walls weren’t plastered with posters of half-naked women.

  No, an adult lived here.

  That was evident.

  Inside, he found the spot in the living room that appeared to be where the man died. There were no longer police markers, but the carpet was punctuated with dark red stains.

  Oh, and it smelled like blood.

  Piss.

  Bowel.

  A normal person would get grossed out, but Jagger was used to these kinds of things. His father dealt in death and crime, and he’d grown up knowing the facts of life.

  It was kill or be killed, and the motto was one he lived by, and would die by—if he had his way.

  Something bad had definitely gone on here.

  He could see the puddling of blood and the vomit dried into the carpet.

  But that’s not all he saw. There were the remnants of shoelaces that had been used to bind their victim.

  They weren’t just any ordinary shoelaces either.

  These were the same ones in his boots. They were standard military issue, and he was surprised that the team who swept the place missed them. They were tied to the leg of the coffee table, and likely used to restrain the victim.

  Yeah, this man was tortured.

  There was no doubt in his mind.

  It was very telling as to what they were up against. If the killers were using full blown torture, they didn't want to get caught in their crossfire. This made the game far more serious.

  There could be no slip ups.

  He’d seen people being tortured.

  Hell, he’d done it himself, and that was the last place he wanted to end up. Then he thought about the two people he was working with, and that made him sick. Callie was with child, and these sick fucks would love that.

  No, they had to be even more cautious.

  There could be no other way.

  As Jagger crept through the living room, he found a bloody book not far from the front door. It looked like something that a mother would make for when her children were born.

  He knew that because his mother, God rest her soul, did the same for him and Jaxon.

  Opening the book, he started flipping through the pages. There were definitely some missing, but he couldn’t tell who was in them. From the other pictures around it, they appeared to be over a decade old and family shots.

  Then, he found another page with torn out pictures, but this time, it was labeled with one very familiar name.

  Avalon.

  Someone viciously ripped them from the book, and then in their haste, threw the album to the floor.

  That was interesting.

  He couldn’t wait to share this with Quinn and Callie.

  Heading into the kitchen, he found the place to be spotless. Either the man was a neat freak, or the killers wanted to eradicate any indication they were there.

  In the small room, one thing caught his eye. On the fridge there were more pictures. Some were missing, and he could see where in the pattern they had been. Gently, with gloved fingers, he moved the corners of the overlapping ones.

  That’s when he saw it.

  The eyes gave her away.

  “You missed this one,” he said, pulling it off the fridge. Maybe it was because the young girl had been tucked behind the next picture, or possibly because they were in a hurry.

  It didn't matter though because it told the tale.

  He shoved it in his pocket before heading up the stairs. On the landing, he stopped to listen, making sure no one was in the house. When he didn't hear anything, Jagger moved into the master bedroom to snoop around.

  Again, nothing was out of place.

  So, he searched for anything that would prove to him that the mercenaries were there. In the bathroom on the tile floor, he found it.

  There was a muted print among the pattern on the linoleum. If he wasn’t looking for it, he never would have seen it.

  It looked like dirt.

  Maybe mud.

  But it was there. Crouching down, he snapped a picture. When he leaned against the wall and held his own booted heel up to the snapshot, he had more proof.

  There was the same aggressive tread.

  Yeah, they had ex-soldiers.

  It was time to get the hell out of there, and fast. Heading down, he planned on going out the same way he came in, only he couldn’t.

  He heard talking.

  It didn't sound like a mercenary or a cop, but he couldn’t risk it. So, he rushed upstairs, trying to get to someplace safe. Then he could make his next move. If need be, he could take the person’s life, and he would if he was compromised.

  Jagger couldn’t risk it.

  There weren’t many places to hide. So, he went with the best option. Sliding under the bed in the spare room, he waited. The footsteps came closer, so he wiggled his way up and into the bottom of the box spring.

  It wasn’t easy, but fortunately there wasn’t any fabric covering it.

  Then he heard his company.

  “Yeah, I’ll meet you for a drink,” came the voice.

  “I’m at my cousin’s now. I have to get him a suit for his funeral. My sister needed me to handle it. She had to go handle the flowers, and since I’m off from work, I figured why not.”

  There was speaking on the phone that Jagger couldn’t hear.

  “Yeah, it does suck. Frank was the family loner. I can’t believe he’s gone too.”

  There was laughter.

  Then, with the worst timing ever, Jagger’s phone buzzed. He’d turned off the ringer, but not the vibration.

  Shit!

  Shit!

  Shit!

  The young man in the room paused. “Hold on. I think I heard something,” he said to the person on the phone.

  Jagger hit the mute button and prayed he didn't just screw up.

  Again.

  He must be getting lax.

  If he was found, someone wouldn’t be heading to a funeral to pay his last respects. Instead, he’d be the one everyone was visiting.

  Jagger held his breath.

  The young man walked around the room, and finally dropped to his knees beside the bed. Quickly, he peeked underneath, not bothering to move the dust ruffle.

  “I’m getting the hell out of here. This house is creepy,” the man said to whoever was on the phone.

  He was so close to Jagger’s location, that he could hear the response and laughter.

  “Now I definitely need that drink. What?” he asked, when the person he was talking to obviously asked him something silly. “Are you kidding? It was probably a robbery. I’m not going to get my panties in a bunch. They were killed for money or something like that. We’re a bunch of hillbillies with cash. Who gives a shit what we do?” he asked.

  Jagger could see the closet door open, and then some rustling of hangers.

  “Okay, dude, I got it. I’ll meet you for that drink later. I’m going to drop this off at t
he funeral home, grab lunch, and check in on Sarah. She’s really shaken up over these deaths. I just hope that there’s some inheritance. This family is a hot freaking mess.”

  With that, he hung up.

  “I’ll miss you, Frank,” he said, heading out. “Don’t be a douchebag on the other side.”

  When Jagger heard the front door close, he slipped out from under the bed. For a brief second, he remained on the floor staring at the ceiling.

  He’d nearly gotten caught.

  Christ!

  That was too close.

  That whole conversation had been curious, and he couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there. Fortunately for him, luck was on his side, but it may not last forever.

  Heading down the stairs, he raced for the back yard. There was no way that Jagger was going to take a chance. He jumped the fence closest to the woods, so he could make his escape.

  As soon as his feet hit the ground on the other side, he was off and running.

  He raced for cover, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was behind him.

  In his pocket was the picture.

  In his head was the information.

  Soon, he’d rendezvous with his team and let them know what he’d found.

  Something bad was brewing in Fredricksville.

  There was no doubt about that.

  CHAPTER Ten

  G etting Avalon on the road had been relatively smooth, but then again, that’s what Maura was paid to do. If anything, she took her job seriously because if she didn't, someone could die.

  It wasn’t just about her and Oracle anymore. Now there were two men she cared about thrown into the mix. She’d always put the lives of Bravo Ghost above her own safety, and it looked like she was going to be doing that again.

  She liked her new team.

  She trusted them.

  After the last betrayal by one of her own, Maura wasn’t sure she’d be able to go there again. Fortunately, she’d been dead wrong.

  Once on the highway, she noticed that there wasn’t much traffic. That was probably a good thing since she could then spot anyone moving in on them. She could watch their six, and that was going to be what saved their asses.