Facing Evil

by C L Hart

  “I’m not expecting you to. Go back to work and come up with some evidence that doesn’t point to me.”

  Lincoln’s dark eyes fell to the counter. “Abby, I’d love to but...” His fingernail traced the deep grooves someone had cut into the counter.

  “I know, I know — you’re not on the case anymore. Lincoln, I don’t want you doing anything that might jeopardize your career. What about the

  articles, have you had a chance to look at them yet?”

  “Yeah, nothing there. What you already read is what was sent.”

  “So much for that idea. What about Frank Sabatini? Any Mafia connection that you can trace?”

  Lincoln shook his head. “No.”

  “What about connections within the department? He would have to know someone who had the ability to pull strings.”

  “None that I’ve been able to find. He’s a loans manager, no record, not even a disturbance call. But I still think he is worth looking at.”

  Abby raised an eyebrow, “Loans manager, huh, but not as in high interest rates and broken legs type?”

  “No, at a bank — suit and tie type.”

  “Oh,” she said with an air of disappointment. A comfortable silence fell between them.

  “Did you know they’re going to be calling me as a witness for the prosecution? That’s not right.”

  “Yes it is and you know it. That’s part of your job. I realize that it isn’t personal. It’s just something you have to do. Just tell the truth, don’t embellish it.”

  “Abby, I know that, but it doesn’t mean—”

  “Lincoln Quinn, look at me. Promise me you won’t do anything that’ll put your job on the line.” Abby didn’t notice that Lincoln seemed to be more interested in the initials carved into the counter than in making her any promises. “I think me being your partner has done enough damage.”

  He looked her in the eyes, “You’re the best partner I’ve ever had, and I’ve no regrets. Not one.”

  “All right, let’s not get too maudlin here. I don’t think I can handle it.” She smiled, but there was a grain of truth in what she said. She leaned forward, closer to the glass. “Lincoln, I want that promise.”

  He almost smiled. “I promise. So, what’s the plan then?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been racking my brain in here trying to come up with something. I mean, come on, I wasn’t the only one who wanted the bastard dead.” She looked at her partner for suggestions.

  “Well, Sabatini wasn’t the only parent upset that Billy Ward was still out there walking free,” Lincoln offered.

  “Yes, but do any of them have the connections to set me up like this? It has to be someone who knows about fingerprints. Given some of the evidence they have, they almost have me convinced.”

  “You’ve seen it?” Lincoln asked.

  “Yeah and it’s not looking good. They even have my Jeep as evidence. That’s how they figure I moved the body.”

  “I read the report. It’s clean, not a thing in it.” Lincoln shot a glance at the guard. “No blood, no fibers, nothing.”

  “Bet that pissed off de Barr,” she muttered.

  Lincoln smiled and nodded. Abby sat silently for a moment, her mind working on something that had caught her attention. Lincoln had seen her do this many times and he knew he should be patient, but he couldn’t. “What?”

  “What if it’s one of us?” she asked solemnly.

  “One of us? You mean someone from inside the department?”

  “I don’t know, Linc. They would have access to all the information they needed as well as my personal file.”

  “That’s a stretch, Abby, but I’ll see what I can sniff out.” He looked down at his watch. “I’m heading to the hospital.” Her demeanor quickly softened. Lincoln knew her well enough to know she had been trying hard to put up a brave front.

  “Have you talked to her yet?”

  “No, she hasn’t been alert enough to do much of anything.” Abby held up a letter.

  “Would you give this to her?”

  “Sure.”

  ♥

  Sarah was awake; her mind was clear. She knew who she was, where she was and why she was there, but they still refused to let her look in a mirror and this frightened her.

  William Daniels. How could she have known he was Billy Ward? The thought sent a deep shiver down her spine. He had played her like a pawn, and she had fallen for it. When the job offer came by telephone, she didn’t think about how she had been selected. All she knew was that she was going to be working “on assignment” for one of the nation’s larger newspapers. It was a chance to break into the big time, a chance to get her first front page story, that first big headline about a female cop with a big attitude problem. A female detective, he had said, who no one could get near enough to talk to, but he was certain Sarah could.

  Billy had been right. She had gotten close to Abby. Then she broke the cardinal rule. Drawn into those dark eyes and the mysteries that haunted them, she fell in love with her subject. The story was there, or part of it, but in the end she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t betray Abby’s trust. She refused to give William Daniels any information, and though he got very angry with her, she stood her ground. She went into Dexton to try to find an alternative means to pay for her stay at the resort, and that was when she saw the newspapers with her by-line under the headline.

  Where had he gotten the information? She didn’t know then, but she had a good idea now. He was Billy Ward, he was the murderer, and so he knew the case even better than Abby did. He had written those stories. But could she convince Abby of that?

  Sarah’s thoughts tumbled over and over in all directions as she stared up at the ceiling and tapped her left fingertip against her numb thumb. The paralysis was a direct result of the knife wound to her throat, or so her doctor had told her. Though he couldn’t be certain, he was confident the feeling would return once she started physiotherapy.

  “Sarah, you have a visitor.”

  She looked to the tall, black gentleman in the doorway. She had no recollection of this good looking man, but his smile seemed pleasant and friendly. Nonetheless, she was wary of the stranger.

  Lincoln saw the fear in her face as he stepped into the room. He kept his eyes on hers, not wanting to be seen looking over her injuries. “Hi, Sarah.” He took a seat next to her bed. “You don’t know who I am, do you? My name is Lincoln Quinn. I’m Abby’s partner.” The moment he said his name, he saw the sparkle in her eyes as she looked to the dry erase board Robin had brought her. With a shaky hand, she wrote out the word, where.

  “Where?”

  He looked up from the board with an apprehensive look. “Where is Abby? Well, she’s...”

  Sarah started to write again and Lincoln watched as the letters formed the words, mad at me.

  “No, no, she isn’t mad at you, far from it. She held you until they took you into surgery. She was here night and day — by your side.” He was mesmerized by the green of her eyes surrounded by the vibrant colors of her blackened eyes and bruised cheekbones. “Sarah, I’ve known Abby for a long time, and I can say without a doubt — she is definitely not mad at you.”

  Sarah closed her eyes and Lincoln could see the relief in her body and in her face. “As a matter of fact,” he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the envelope he had been given, “she asked me to deliver this to you.” Mindful of her injuries, he pulled the letter from the envelope and offered it to her.

  Sarah took the page and held it for a moment before she brought it up to read. She recognized Abby’s handwriting and she felt a deep ache in her heart as she read her words.

  Sarah,

  I’m sorry I can’t be there for you when you need me the most. You fought to stay alive against all the odds, and you proved them wrong by proving me right. I told them you were a fighter!

  Just know I’m there with you every step of the way.

  With all my heart,

  Abby
/>
  Sarah looked up at Lincoln with a question, and he knew what it was before she circled the word where several times.

  “I knew I was gonna have to answer this question, and I was sure that when you asked it I’d have a good way of telling you, but then I realized there’s no good way of telling you. The man that attacked you — Billy Ward — was found murdered in the park, and ah...well, they’ve arrested Abby for it.”

  An undistinguishable sound came from Sarah’s throat as her eyes blinked rapidly in disbelief. Her face grew redder and redder as she fought for a breath.

  He watched helplessly. “Sarah, what’s wrong!” Lincoln’s voice rose in concern as he called for the nurse. “Robin!” A moment later, he heard Robin’s quick steps as she hurried down the hall. “She can’t breathe!” he said as the nurse looked from her patient to the detective and then to Sarah again.

  “What the hell happened?” Robin demanded as she reached the side of the bed. “Sarah, look at me. Slow down. You have to relax — breath slow and deep,” she said in a soothing voice. “Easy, Sarah — slow. That a girl.”

  Once Sarah was breathing easier, Robin turned her attention to the visibly shaking Lincoln. “What happened?”

  “She wanted to know where Abby was. I didn’t want to tell her. I’m sorry, Sarah, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Lincoln turned back to Robin. “I thought she was choking.”

  “She was.”

  “Because of the wound to her throat?”

  “Partly, but something was done to her larynx, and because of that her throat is still swollen and painful.” Robin held Sarah’s hand in support.

  “That’s one of the things Ward did. He made a paste from the sap of a dieffenbachia plant and injected it into his victim’s throat. It was a painful and dangerous way to keep them quiet. Sarah is lucky to be alive,” Lincoln said.

  “Yes, she is, and the swelling will go down and her wounds will heal.” Robin was happy to see Sarah’s breathing becoming more normal. Sarah reached for her dry-erase board, and Robin and Lincoln watched her write out, don’t feel lucky.

  “You’re alive, Sarah, and that’s more than Ward’s other victims.”

  She knew that was the truth, but it didn’t make it any easier. Now that she was no longer in distress, Robin left the room. Sarah tapped her board and Lincoln looked down to see what she had written. Don’t remember paste.

  “He must have given it to you after he found you on the phone talking with Abby.”

  Don’t remember

  “That would be a good thing,” Lincoln said with a smile.

  Sarah circled the word where several times.

  “She’s in the Twin Pines Women’s facility. I guess I don’t have to say that she’s not very happy. She’d rather be here.”

  Sarah paused for a moment and thought about what it must be like for Abby to be behind bars. Her concern showed in her eyes.

  Lincoln watched her with interest as she reached for her pen and started to write. He noticed Sarah’s left hand remained motionless by her side.

  Tapping on the board she got his attention again. Locked up — Bail?

  “They won’t give her bail.”

  Why?

  “Well, partly because...” He stopped as he remembered what she didn’t know. “Let me fill you in a little. The first night you were here, someone — and I use that term loosely — someone burned down Abby’s house. Everything was reduced to ash. Gone.” A small moan of anguish came from Sarah and her eyes widened. Lincoln could see the shimmer of tears gathering as she put down her pen and closed her eyes. Abby, this is so unfair.

  Lincoln bowed his head in silence, unsure of what to say next. “I think most of it’s starting to hit home with her now. She’s been more concerned about you and your well being than her own. But I give her credit, she’s managed to keep your identity a secret. No one in the department has put your name to the name on the articles about Abby and the Ward case. She even has you booked into the hospital as McMurphy.”

  Sarah opened her eyes, and the tears that had been welling flowed down her face. Lincoln pulled a tissue from a nearby box and handed it to her. She gently dabbed her black eyes, but it made no difference to the misery on her face.

  “Sarah?”

  She opened her eyes and reached for the pen. Didn’t write the articles.

  “I don’t think she ever believed you did. And I can honestly say I also don’t believe you wrote them.”

  But I lied to her.

  “Sarah, she understands. You thought you were doing your job and she knows how tough that can be as well as anyone.”

  But I didn’t write—

  Lincoln reached over and stopped her hand in mid stroke. “It’s not an issue, Sarah, believe me. I think it is the furthest thing from her mind.” Sarah lay still for a long quiet moment, and Lincoln wondered what was going on inside her head. He was sure she was thinking about Abby — he could see it in her eyes. Then her eyes closed and he was considering leaving; she had to be tired.

  But Sarah picked up her pen and began to slowly write again. I hurt her, how do I make up for that?

  Lincoln considered her words. “I think the best thing you can do for her is to get better. Let Abby worry about Abby. She’s pretty tough, you know. She can handle it.”

  Not as tough as you think.

  He had noticed her writing was getting slower and her eyelids appeared to be getting heavier.

  “I know.”

  Tell her

  Lincoln patted her hand. “I know what to say. You rest now, and if you need anything — call me at home or on my cell.” He pulled his wallet from his pocket and flipped through it. “We were told to make sure that you had,” Lincoln turned back to Sarah, but her eyes were closed and this time he knew she was sleeping, “anything you wanted,” he finished softly, setting his card on the nightstand before he quietly left the room.

  ♥

  Holoman and Associates was still one of the most prestigious law firms in the city, even though its best attorney and founder had all but retired years earlier. Many high powered defendants with shady connections tried to get Nathan’s firm to represent them, but he had refused each and every one of them. It was well known that when it came to the law, Nathan Holoman was brilliant, ruthless, and in particular, selective about his clientele. He valued his name and his honor above all else.

  The large corner office was still his, even though some of his young associates had salivated over the rich mahogany desk, the walls of law books, and the built-in bar across from the breathtaking view of the city below and the ocean beyond. But Nathan had refused to give up the room he so loved. Many victories had been celebrated in that office, and he hoped that his niece’s vindication was going to be added to that list.

  Nathan had pulled out every file the police and district attorney had given him and they were spread across the large table he had set up in the middle of the room. He was busy poring over the evidence files when his secretary buzzed him.

  “Mr. Holoman, sorry to bother you, but there’s a Mr. Lincoln Quinn here to see you.”

  “It’s okay, Beth. Send him in.” Nathan placed his thin reading glasses on his head and stood to greet his visitor.

  Lincoln nodded a thank you to the secretary as he held out his hand to Nathan.

  “Lincoln. Good to see you.” The two shared a firm handshake and Nathan directed Lincoln to a chair.

  “I have to say, I was a little surprised to get your call this afternoon, Nathan.”

  “I’m not going to beat around the bush here, Lincoln.” He unbuttoned his cuff and started to roll up his sleeve. “You handed in your badge this morning.”

  “I...ah... How the hell do you know that?” He stared at Nathan in disbelief. “I haven’t told anyone. Shit, not even my wife knows yet.”

  “Look, I don’t care why you quit, it is none of my business, but I wouldn’t be who I am today if I didn’t ask questions.” He sat down in his chair. “That’
s if you are at liberty to say.”

  “Oh, I’ve got liberty to say. I think it’s bullshit what they’re doing to Abby. They aren’t even looking for another suspect. Then I find out this morning that they’re already warming up the gas chamber. It’s crap, all of it.”

  Nathan observed with interest as Lincoln let go of some of his anger.

  “She put how many years into that department, and this is how they treat her? Yes, her life was consumed with trying to put Ward away, but for a reason. That son of a bitch was guilty and everyone knew it! But did anyone do anything about it? No! They sat on their hands and quoted the Bill of Rights after every dead woman we found.” Lincoln rose and paced the room. “Abby worked harder than anyone else on finding evidence that broke the case wide open, and when he got off, she felt like she had let everyone down — the victims, their families, the police department, everyone. You should’ve been there, Nathan. It would have torn out your heart to see what she put herself through.” Lincoln’s anger was petering out and his voice was returning to normal.

  “I wish I had been there, but she didn’t call me. Actually, before this, we haven’t had much contact over the years — her choice, not mine. I look after her assets and keep an eye on the numbers, but that’s about it.” Nathan rose to his feet and walked over to his bar. “Can I offer you a drink?”

  “No, I shouldn’t. I’m... What the hell, I’m no longer on duty, am I? Scotch, if you have it.”

  “I have only the best,” Nathan said as he poured a healthy allotment into a heavy crystal glass.

  “You know, most people would never guess the two of you are related.” Lincoln accepted the drink. “But looking at you and knowing her, I see the family resemblance.”

  “It’s in the eyes,” Nathan said with a broad smile. “They came from my father.”

  Looking down at the dark amber alcohol, Lincoln seemed to pay little attention to the elder lawyer's statement. “So where does the name Holoman come from?”

  Nathan took his drink over to his desk, picked up a framed photograph and took a closer look. “My mother remarried and I took my stepfather’s name. I’ve missed him over the years, my brother, I mean. He was my best friend, and his death was so tragic and such a shock. It was hard on all of us.” Nathan studied the photograph for a moment and then held it out to Lincoln.