Shadows from the Grave

by Haddix, T. L.

  “Annie,” he warned, and he felt her smile against his skin.

  “Chase,” she countered.

  He gave a rough laugh and tipped his head back against the wall. “We have to talk about this, you know.”

  Annie sighed. “I know. But not right now. Soon,” she promised. They sat like that for a few minutes, recovering from the revelations that had been made.

  Chase rubbed his hand over her back. “We should probably pack things up here,” he said, reluctant to move. “As much as I love holding you—and believe me, I do—I can’t sit here any longer. This floor isn’t the most comfortable seat in the world.”

  With a reluctance that warmed his heart, she eased out of his arms and started packing the cooler. As he joined her, she paused to study him.

  He shot her a questioning look. “What?”

  Annie shook her head. “Nothing.” she smiled. Chase didn’t press the issue, and they finished clearing up the picnic in silence. After a quick walk through the house to make sure it was secure, Chase carried the cooler out to the car and loaded it in the trunk.

  “I guess I’d better get you home,” he said.

  “I guess so,” she replied, a wistful tone creeping into her voice. “I do have to do laundry this weekend, and I was going to paint my toenails, wash my hair, something like that.”

  “Um, well. Not that I want you to have dirty laundry or hair, or heaven forbid, unpainted toenails, but I happen to know this guy who has a big TV, a semi-sweet, semi-possessed cat, Chinese food on speed dial, and a very comfortable couch. If you were interested, I’d say I could probably convince him to rent a movie or two.”

  Annie turned to face him. “I figured you would probably be ready for a break from me by now.” To her surprise, Chase slowed the car and pulled off to the side of the road.

  He put the car in neutral and looked at her, puzzled. “Why on earth would you think that? Don’t you realize that I enjoy being with you, Annie?” He paused as a thought occurred to him. “Or is it that you need a break from my company? If that’s it, don’t worry about hurting my feelings.”

  Shaking her head furiously, she reached out to touch his hand, which was resting on the gearshift. “No, Chase. No. Look, I… can we just go back five minutes? Ask me again?”

  Somewhat warily, Chase watched her. He reached for a bottle of water and took a long drink, gathering his courage. Speaking with a casualness that was deceptive, he asked, “How would you feel about a movie or two, and some takeout at my place?” He looked down at the bottle in his hands while he waited for her to respond.

  “I would love to spend the evening with you, Chase,” she said. She held her hand out, and he carefully took it, sliding their fingers together in a solid grasp.

  “Then I would say we have a date.”

  Chapter 15

  When Gordon’s phone rang at nearly midnight Saturday night, he knew it wasn’t good news. When he saw Detective Hart’s name on the readout, he considered not answering, but he knew that wasn’t really an option. When they had seen each other at the second autopsy, to say there had been tension would be a massive understatement.

  With a sigh, he answered. “This is Gordon.”

  “Agent,” Greg Hart said. “Sorry to call you so late, but I have news.”

  “It’s no problem. I’m still awake. What do you have?”

  “The lab just called. I guess they got their paperwork mixed up and didn’t realize I was no longer in charge of the investigation. They were able to unfold that piece of paper from Kiely’s casket. It’s a letter.”

  Gordon’s judge had come through with the exhumation order and, before dawn Friday morning, Kiely’s remains had been on their way to Frankfort for a second autopsy. When the casket was unsealed, a folded piece of paper had been discovered inside. After ten years of being sealed in with a decomposing body, it was in bad shape. Moisture had caused the paper’s flaps to weld together, but the lab techs in Frankfort had thought they could do something with it.

  “So they were able to tell that much?” Gordon asked.

  “Oh, yeah. It was in better shape inside than they thought it would be. You aren’t going to like it,” Hart said. “It’s a game changer for your boy. Are you close to a computer?”

  Gordon threw back the bedcovers and headed for his home office. In a minute, he was in front of his computer. “I am.”

  “I’ve emailed a JPEG of the letter to you. It’s an apology letter, pretty brief. I’ll let you read it, and you can tell me what you think.” The excitement in the detective’s voice worried Gordon and, when he opened the email to read the letter, he cursed.

  “I’m sorry,” the letter read, “I never meant for things to end this way, with you lying here. I could have stopped this, but I waited too late. I love you, Kiely, despite everything I said. I’ll never stop. God forgive me for what I’ve done to you, because I can’t forgive myself.”

  Gordon knew the jig was up as soon as he read the spidery words on the page, faded and stained from being in the grave. “Damn it. Damn it to hell,” he swore.

  “Yeah, I thought you’d have that reaction. Well, Agent? Guess your string-pulling can’t protect him now. I’m heading to Leroy tomorrow to talk to him.”

  “Detective Hart, let me remind you that I am still the agent of record on this case. Furthermore, you have to have either permission or an arrest warrant or both to do jack diddly in Indiana. You don’t have jurisdiction across state lines.” Gordon clenched his jaw.

  “Well, as it happens I do have a warrant for his DNA, and as to the question of jurisdiction, that’s why you’re going to be there, too, Special Agent,” Hart said. The emphasis he put on ‘special’ told Gordon very plainly what he thought about Gordon’s seniority. “See, I called in a few favors of my own. My boss has talked to your boss, and your boss just got off the phone with Wyatt Dixon. They’re expecting us tomorrow morning.”

  Gordon barely restrained himself from ripping into the other man. A beep on his line stopped him just as he opened his mouth. Cursing, he looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Fran. “I have another call. You watch yourself, Detective.” He hung up before Hart could respond. Switching over, he answered the other call.

  “Fran, what the hell is going on?” he asked without preliminaries.

  “Who’d you hear from, Hart or Wyatt Dixon?”

  Gordon sighed. “Hart. But I suspect Wyatt will be calling shortly. What happened?”

  It was his supervisor’s turn to sigh. “Well, those connections we suspected Hart of having? He used them. Truthfully, we do need to get Hudson’s DNA and have him answer some questions about that letter. I assume you’ve seen it?”

  “Yes. I’m looking at it now.” He fell silent, his mind racing as he tried to figure out how to get ahead of Hart in the game.

  “I tried to stop him, Gordon. I didn’t have any luck. I think you are absolutely correct about what you told me the other day, and I think you need to do whatever you can to stop him,” she said quietly. “Thing is, Galen, I don’t know if I can protect you if you go above and beyond. You catch my drift?”

  “I do.” He sighed. That she had used his first name alarmed him almost more than Hart’s obvious glee.

  “I’ll do whatever I can to stop the string-pulling but, I’m telling you now, I don’t think it will be enough. You need to think long and hard about whether or not your friendship with this Chase Hudson is worth losing your career over.”

  “Okay, Fran. I understand. When did you talk to Wyatt?” he asked. “I don’t want to call him if he’s asleep.”

  “Oh, I’d say he isn’t asleep, Gordon. I just talked to him not ten minutes ago, and he sounded hopping mad.” She cleared her throat. “Good luck tomorrow, and keep me updated. Okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He ended the call and slowly made his way to the kitchen where he pulled down a bottle of whiskey and a glass. Pouring himself two fingers of the amber liquid, he quickly downed it. Very care
fully, he recapped the bottle and put it back in the cabinet. Alcohol burning a hole in his gut, he stared out the window at the sparkling city spread out beyond the glass. More and more since he’d started investigating this case and those he was certain were linked, he had felt his disillusionment grow. When he and Mallory had first gotten married, the job had been looming on the horizon, and it had seemed so promising. Then she had gotten sick, and everything changed. After she died, the job had become his refuge. Now, though, it just didn’t mean what it had before.

  Instead of making the difference he had thought he would be able to make, he felt mired in paperwork and procedures. Every time he turned around, policies were changing, and it was all he could do to keep up. Added to that, after 9/11, the focus of the FBI’s resources had changed. The Bureau of today wasn’t the same one he had idealized in his mind. So Fran’s question about choosing his friendship with Chase over his career really hadn’t been a hard one to answer. He knew exactly what his choice was, no questions asked, no doubts. With a harsh sigh, he picked up his phone and dialed Wyatt Dixon’s number. He might as well start getting things out of the way now. If he was going to throw his career away, he had to make sure the throw counted.

  Chapter 16

  Sunday morning dawned overcast and muggy. The late-summer heat and humidity had returned with a vengeance after yesterday’s more pleasant weather. Chase had joined Ethan and Jason in putting the shingles on the garage the three men had built next to Ethan and Beth’s house. As they set up their tools and got ready to work, Beth, Annie, and Hannah set up chairs beneath a tall oak tree beside the garage.

  Once the men were safely on the roof, Beth flopped down in her chair with a groan. “I can’t believe it’s so hot out here, and it isn’t even ten o’clock.” She used the manila folder she held to fan the heavy air. “We could go inside, you know.”

  Hannah smiled. “We could, but then we’d miss the show.” The three women shared a grin and turned to watch the men as they set up on the roof. “Who do you think will shed their shirt first?”

  “Hannah, you’re wicked!” Annie admonished, laughing. “But since you asked, my money’s on Ethan. Chase is always the last to take his shirt off, and Ethan’s wearing a dark shirt. He’ll be pouring sweat in no time flat.”

  Beth tsked her friends. “Don’t bet on it, ladies. Ethan has a… well. Things got, um, intense last night. I think his shirt will be staying on.”

  Annie rose up in her seat to look past Hannah at Beth. She lowered her sunglasses and eyed the flush that spread across Beth’s cheeks, and then settled back with a disgusted grunt. “Regular sex… must be nice.”

  “Oh, there was nothing regular about it,” Beth drawled. Hannah coughed, nearly choking on her drink. “And if you aren’t getting any, it’s your own fault. The way you and Chase have been dancing around each other? I’m just glad it’s been a wet summer, or else this whole county would have burned to the ground by now.”

  “Amen,” Hannah threw in. “You can almost see the sparks in the air.”

  Beth sat up. “It’s been nice, actually, watching Chase come out of his shell more and more.” Her voice grew serious. “I know that right now, with the whole ‘stalking serial killer’ thing he’s been a little tense but, Annie, it’s like having the old Chase back. I’m seeing a side of my brother that’s been gone for ten years. You can’t know how much that means to me, to all of us.”

  “He was different before?” Hannah asked. She had moved to Leroy earlier in the spring from New Mexico and hadn’t known the family long.

  “Oh, definitely. He’s always been quiet, but he used to laugh,” Beth told them with a smile. “When everything happened with Kiely, he shut a part of himself off. Since the two of you have been seeing each other, Annie, he’s just been happier, I guess is the best way to put it.”

  It was Annie’s turn to flush. “We aren’t seeing each other.” When Beth and Hannah both laughed, she threw her hands up. “Ah, hell. Why am I even bothering to deny it? We are seeing each other. I’m not sure how good I am for Chase, though.”

  “Uh, I’d say you’re very good for him, if his happiness is any indication,” Hannah said.

  “Yeah, but what about my past? Where I come from? I’m illegitimate. Chase is… Chase…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Annie, don’t you dare suggest that you aren’t good enough for Chase or this family,” Beth said. Annie wouldn’t meet her eyes, but Beth continued. “I could just strangle anyone who thinks that. You’re one of the best people I know and, honest to God, who cares if you’re illegitimate? You sound like you’ve been drinking Ethel’s Kool-Aid. My brother could do so much worse than to end up with you. I’m not sure he could do better, though.”

  Hannah reached over and squeezed Annie’s shoulder with one hand as she wiped her eyes with the other. “Beth, it seems to be a trend with you Hudsons, that you end up falling for people who don’t quite feel worthy of you. Ethan, Annie, me.”

  Annie laughed, surprised. “You’re right, Hannah. I’d never thought of it that way. Why is that?” she turned to ask Beth, who shook her head.

  “Beats the heck out of me. I certainly don’t look at the three of you and see people who are ‘less worthy,’ and I doubt my brothers do, either. As a matter of fact, I know they don’t. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Annie agreed. “Enough said.”

  “Yes, and enough of this introspection,” Hannah said. “It’s too early in the morning for this kind of discussion, and we have a lot to accomplish today.”

  Beth handed her the folder she’d been using as a fan. “Here are all the notes I’ve put together, and the schedule.” They were planning a surprise baby shower for Lauren on the following Saturday. “Unless Baby Clark decides to come into the world early, everything is on schedule.”

  “Yes, and judging by how miserable Lauren was yesterday, if baby does show up early, she’ll be thrilled,” Hannah said. “I’d honestly be surprised if she doesn’t go early.”

  “Her due date isn’t for another three weeks, though,” Beth said. “You think they got it wrong?”

  “It’s possible, but I doubt it,” Annie responded. “Her OB/GYN is one of the best in Olman County. Teri Garrett.”

  “So where are we with distracting the mom-to-be?” Hannah asked.

  “Charlie’s fully on board,” Annie said. “He and Winston are going to take the kids.”

  Beth held up her hand as she swallowed her iced tea. “Charlie may think he and Win are babysitting. Daddy is going to hang out with Win, and Ethan and the other guys are going to kidnap Charlie for a wild and raucous poker game.” She paused as they all broke into gales of laughter.

  When they could finally speak again, Hannah’s statement said it all. “For a bunch of men who are so devastatingly masculine, they’re really all just homebodies. I’m sure they had some wild times in the past, like Ethan’s barbed-wire incident,” she said with a telling glance in Beth’s direction, “but now? I’d bet they don’t do much more than gossip like old ladies when they get together.”

  “Hmmm, I think you’re probably right,” Beth said, her eyes on her husband. “We’re the dangerous ones.”

  Annie raised her glass. “I’ll drink to that.” As Beth and Hannah joined her in the toast, she grinned. They burst into laughter again, and Annie felt her eyes go to Chase. She wondered if, when the time came, she’d be able to walk away from him. Even for his own good. She very much feared she wouldn’t.

  ~ * * * ~

  Up on the roof, Chase swore for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. He shook out the hand he’d just mistaken for a roofing nail and scowled. “What do you think they’re laughing about now?” Distracted by the women’s laughter, he missed the knowing look Jason and Ethan exchanged.

  “Dunno, Chase,” Jason replied, his voice casual. “What do you think they’re discussing?”

  “Well, I don’t know, Jason,” Chase answered with exaggerated patience. “That’s
why I asked.”

  “You know, you’re awfully grumpy for someone who had a hot date yesterday,” Ethan chimed in. “Didn’t things go well? Annie didn’t seem upset when she got here.”

  Chase’s scowl grew darker. “Things went fine, thank you very much.”

  Jason raised his eyebrows. “You sure, brother? Begging your pardon, but you don’t act like a man who spent a pleasurable evening with his lady love.”

  Chase dropped his hammer, this time hitting his knee. He cursed, a flush stealing over his cheeks. “Damn it, Jason, you’re pushing it,” he warned. When Ethan started laughing like a loon, he turned to his friend, stunned.

  “What the hell is so funny?” he demanded.

  “You are, Chase,” Ethan replied. A wide smile, a rare expression for Ethan, spread across his face as he raised his shirt to wipe his face. “We’ve waited a long time to be able to tease you like this.”

  Ethan’s honest response diffused Chase’s temper, and he threw up his hands, exasperated. He looked at Jason, who was frowning and staring at Ethan’s back.

  Jason gave a low whistle. “What happened to your back, Ethan?” When Ethan frowned, puzzled, Jason gestured to Ethan’s back. Ethan glanced down at the skin he’d exposed when he had lifted his shirt. When he saw the long, red scratches that ran across his sides, he jerked the shirt down.

  “Not a damned thing,” he said, and Chase laughed. At Ethan’s glare, he turned the laugh into a cough.

  “If you say so, brother.”

  “I do say so,” Ethan told him firmly.

  Jason said drolly, “Considering that he’s married to our sister, and considering where those scratches likely came from, I’m going to take Ethan at his word. I’d advise you to do the same,” he told Chase, who agreed with a grimace.