Deadly Dozen: 12 Mysteries/Thrillers

by Diane Capri

  Sarah raised her eyes, searching his face.

  “You’re in my seat, Sheriff.”

  The words were spoken softly, but Sarah understood their meaning. Joshua was ready and willing to stand beside her, no matter what.

  Gavin entered, balancing three cups of coffee and kicked the door closed. His gaze traveled from one to the other as Sarah rose, and took the seat behind the desk.

  “Let’s start at the beginning, look at what we’ve got.” Sarah took the cup of coffee, sniffing it. “And where the hell is Ella Mae?”

  She watched as Joshua’s lips tightened, his eyes thunderous as he glanced away from her. “Fell again last night.”

  Sarah grimaced. She was going to have to deal with that. If she didn’t, Joshua would.

  Gavin took a seat on the edge of her desk. “Fill me in.”

  Taking a note pad from the desk, Sarah made notes as she talked. “The best we can figure, Corrine Larson must have arrived here on the night Johanna Nelson was killed. We know now that wasn’t an accident. Larson was found murdered the following day.” Sarah continued to write, ignoring the tension and pain she felt emanating from Gavin and glancing at Joshua. “Anything on the other bodies?”

  Joshua shook his head. “Autopsy confirmed what Doc had already told us. No missing couples reported in this area. Time of death uncertain, but at least two months or more.”

  “Gavin, you told me that Marisa told you she didn’t think Johanna’s death was an accident. Maybe that has something to do with her death. She said the wrong thing to the wrong person.”

  Gavin shook his head. “I don’t think Marisa’s death had anything to do with that. I think he was sending a message. Letting you know he was here.”

  Sarah nodded. “Yeah, I think you’re right. And I don’t think he killed the couple. I think we’ve got two people here.”

  “So, who’s been here two months?” Gavin asked, Jacody Ives kicking in, searching for secrets.

  Sarah exchanged glances with Joshua. “Reverend Cooper and his wife have been here about two months.”

  Sarah’s gaze fell on the roses sitting on the corner of her desk. “Millie says he has black eyes,” she whispered. “Williams has black eyes.”

  #

  Jasmine Little whimpered as she glanced around the old mill. The place was damp and dusty and had a musty odor. Life on the streets had been hard, but this was ridiculous. She couldn’t stay here. She wasn’t going to stay here.

  “We have to go,” she whined.

  Jeremiah Campbell stopped pacing the floor to look at her. His nerves were already on edge. He’d recognized the Bureau agents. The stupid bastards must have followed him. Too close. He was too close to let them stop him now. Nobody was going to stop him. Besides they didn’t know anything. They couldn’t. He’d been too careful.

  “You killed them, didn’t you? Those bodies they found. You didn’t say nothing about killing nobody.”

  The whiney voice grated on his nerves. He glared at her, black eyes blazing with hatred. Fucking whore. Questioning him.

  “Shut up,” he spat out.

  “What are we going to do?” She continued to whine, ignoring the heated gaze as she watched a rat scurry across the dusty floor.

  “We’re going to do what we came here to do.”

  She whimpered again. “But you can’t. They know. That’s why they’re here, isn’t it? They know.”

  Her voice had risen to a shriek. Whiney, shrieking whore. Jeremiah hit her, fist bunched, enjoying the sound of bones breaking, the smell of fresh blood.

  Tears filled Jasmine’s eyes. She spat blood on the floor. “You’re crazy,” she whispered.

  “Fucking whore!” he roared, placing his hands around her neck, watching her eyes go large from fear. “Parading around like you was a real minister’s wife. Taking on airs. Acting like you was something besides a whore. Pissing off the sheriff.”

  “Please,” Jasmine whispered, spreading her legs and reaching for his groin. He liked it when she touched him there. Men always liked that.

  “Kill her.”

  Campbell loosened his grip, straining to hear the voice inside his head. He wasn’t crazy.

  “She deserves to die like a whore,” the voice whispered.

  Taking his hands from her throat he unzipped his pants and reached for the frizzy blonde hair, pulling her face to his groin. “Suck it.”

  “You hurt my mouth,” Jasmine whined. The thoughts of putting him inside her mouth gagged her.

  “Suck it or die, whore.”

  Fear made her hands tremble as she finished undoing his pants and pulled out his cock, an angry pulsating red eye. Ugly. She shivered as her lips closed around it, gently sucking.

  Jeremiah felt the rage of five years flow through him. Placing his hands around her neck he pulled her closer, shoving deep inside her throat. He felt her gag, hands beating at him. He squeezed harder. “Suck it like the whore you really are.”

  Her lips closed around him again, and he laughed as she sucked as if her life depended on it. Crazy. That’s what they’d said when they’d locked him away. He squeezed harder, semen rushing out, filling her mouth. She gagged and pushed at him, as he shoved deeper into her mouth, his hands clenched tightly around her throat. He heard the slight crack, felt the head loll to one side. The noises stopped, her limp body held up only by the hands clutched tightly around her neck.

  Crazy? Tossing the body on the floor, he spat on it as he zipped up his pants. Sounds of laughter echoed inside his head. He’d show them. He’d show them all.

  #

  Sarah turned off the lights on the Explorer as they approached the parsonage. Reaching into the glove compartment, she pulled out her extra gun and handed it to Gavin. “Just in case. If it’s Williams in there, he won’t go down without a fight.”

  Gavin nodded, glancing at Joshua who was loading the shotgun in the back seat. They weren’t going to take any chances.

  The house was fully lit and Sarah motioned Joshua to take the back. She and Gavin would approach from the front. Motioning Gavin to the right of the door, Sarah pounded on it, quickly side-stepping to the left as she called out, “Sheriff! Open up!”

  No sound came from inside. Glancing at Gavin, she tried the door and found it unlocked. Gun ready, Sarah shoved the door open and went in at a flying roll, quickly moving to her right. Gavin followed her, eyes darting around the room, looking for places a shooter might hide. Joshua called out as he burst through the back door seconds later.

  The house was totally silent. They moved quickly from room to room.

  “They’re gone.” Joshua stated the obvious, noting the open drawers, empty closets.

  Sarah cursed silently. She felt Gavin’s arm go around her waist and leaned into his strength. If only she’d run that background check sooner.

  “Guess I better call Edgewood,” Joshua stated, sticking a toothpick between his teeth as he lowered the shotgun.

  Sarah nodded. “Tell them they’re looking for a missing minister and his wife. Reverend Jacob and Shelia Cooper.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Carl left the motel and headed for Glade Springs at nine-thirty. It was a two-hour drive and he wanted to get there just before midnight. The town was quiet as he pulled onto Main Street and parked in front of the bookstore. He knew where he was going. Millie’s house was just down the block, around the corner.

  Scouting the street in front of him, he relaxed, pulling out the Sig and screwing on the silencer. He hoped he wouldn’t need it. Closing the car door gently, he slipped into the alley beside the store, making his way back and over, toward the house, eyes alert for any signs of movement. Easy as pie, he grinned. Opening the gate, he slipped around the side of the house, and headed for the back door.

  Clarence watched the figure moving stealthily around the house, gun in hand. He’d called Millie as soon as he’d noticed the strange car sitting in front of her bookstore. Knew she was waiting on the other side
of the door, iron skillet in hand. He’d told her to get the gun, dammit. Stubborn old woman. He clutched the piece of wood he’d grabbed before leaving the flower shop, fear making his heart beat so loud he was afraid the intruder would hear it. Removing his shoes, he slipped through the gate, picking up his pace. Had to stop him before he got to Millie.

  Rounding the corner, Clarence stopped. The figure was only a few feet away, one foot on the bottom step, eyes focused on the back door. Rushing forward he swung the club with every ounce of his strength. He heard the loud pop as the wood connected with the side of the man’s head. He drew back again, but stopped as the figure slowly fell, gun clattering on the back porch.

  “Millie, you okay?” Clarence whispered, his voice strained, as the back door opened slowly.

  “Humph, could of took him out myself.” Millie smiled fondly at Clarence. “You old fool, running around in the middle of the night barefoot. You didn’t kill him, did you?”

  Clarence shook his head, bending over the prone body. “Nope, just knocked him out. Gonna have one hell of a headache, though.”

  “Turn him over. I want to see his face.”

  Kicking the gun out of reach, Clarence turned the body over, glancing up at Millie’s sharp intake of breath and muttered, “Oh, shit.”

  “Do you know him? Who is he?” Clarence glanced from Millie to the black man lying deathly still.

  “Carl Jackson, FBI,” Millie muttered, bending down to stroke the old man’s face gently. “Best damn partner I ever had.”

  “FBI?” Clarence dropped the club he still clutched in his right hand. “Oh, shit.”

  “Don’t you worry. Always was hard headed. Probably didn’t hurt him none. Help me get him inside.” Picking up Carl’s arms, Millie nodded for Clarence to take his legs. Tugging and pulling, they managed to get him inside and on the couch.

  “Make some coffee and fetch me the smelling salts. He’s gonna be madder than a wet hornet when he wakes up.”

  #

  Ella Mae shied away from her husband. Trembling, she looked into the eyes she’d once thought beautiful. Black, angry eyes. “I didn’t tell them anything. I just said I fell.”

  “That damn deputy comes here again and I’m going to kill him. You understand that, Ella Mae?”

  She nodded, her gaze never leaving the black eyes. Waiting for the blink. He always blinked before he hit her. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill Joshua.

  “You get yourself cleaned up. You’re going to work tomorrow.”

  Ella Mae nodded again, heading quickly for the bathroom. She knew Joshua suspected the truth. She’d have to tell them something. Her breath caught as she touched the darkening bruise just over her ribs. He’d gotten smart after the last time. At least he wouldn’t hit her in the face again.

  He’s going to kill you.

  Ella Mae shrugged, pulling off her clothes and stepping into the shower. She didn’t need the voice to tell her that. Turning the water on cold, she let it run over her burning body. She must already be dead. This had to be hell.

  #

  Millie ran the smelling salts beneath Carl’s nose, stepping away from the huge black fist that struck out at her as Carl woke, sputtering oaths before grabbing his head and groaning.

  “What the hell hit me?”

  “What’d you expect, you old coot. Sneaking around an old woman’s house at night.”

  Carl struggled to sit up, moaning louder as the effort sent a fresh wave of pain through his head.

  “Didn’t expect an old biddy like you to hit a man so hard.” He groaned, opening his eyes and glaring at Millie.

  Clarence stepped next to Millie, placing an arm protectively around her shoulders. “I’m afraid I hit you, Mr. Jackson. Saw you skulking around and followed you.”

  Carl turned his fierce gaze on Clarence, but held his tongue. The old fart looked pretty tough, even barefoot. Besides, he wasn’t in any shape to take on the two of them.

  Millie glanced fondly from one to the other. “Why don’t you two get to know each other while I get some coffee.”

  Clarence sat down, eyes alert, watching Carl suspiciously.

  “You can relax. I didn’t come here to hurt her.” Carl patted his pocket for his cigarettes.

  “Why the gun then?”

  Carl managed a shaky grin, pulling the pack from his pocket. “In case I ran into some son-of-a-bitch with a big stick.”

  Clarence laughed, relaxing as Millie came in with three mugs of steaming coffee and an ice pack.

  “Glad to see you two made up. No hard feelings?” She handed Carl the mug and watched as he sniffed it, sighed, and placed the ice pack on the lump, which had begun to swell.

  “No hard feelings.” Carl sipped the coffee laced with brandy and watched as Millie took a seat on the arm of the chair next to Clarence. Loneliness washed over him. He’d missed Millie. Missed Sharon. It was hard getting old. He was glad Millie had somebody.

  Carl finished the cup of coffee and held it out for a refill. “Bring the bottle.”

  Millie refilled the mugs and handed Clarence the bottle of brandy. “Want to tell me what you’re doing here, sneaking around in the middle of the night?”

  Carl took a long swig of brandy, chasing it with hot coffee. He glanced at Clarence, his meaning clear.

  “Ain’t no secrets here, Carl Jackson. Anything you got to say, you can say it in front of Clarence.”

  “We gotta move you, Millie. Right away.”

  “Ain’t going nowhere.” Millie stood up, pacing the room. “This is my home. Been my home twenty years.” Her gray eyes flashed fire.

  “Ain’t got no choice. Things are about to break wide open here. Can’t take a chance on you being seen on the media. Chief says we gotta move you.”

  “Ain’t going.” Millie’s chin quivered, but her voice was strong and clear.

  Carl muttered to himself, lighting a cigarette. “Fool headed, stubborn old woman. Knew you’d be this way. You’re going, if I have to knock you over the head and carry you out of here.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Millie walked to the phone, dialing the number from memory.

  He answered on the second ring. “Walsh.”

  “You got an agent here with a knot on his head. Says I gotta leave. I ain’t going. You hear me, Junior?”

  “Millie?” Walsh rubbed his eyes, glancing at the bedside clock. Two a.m.

  “I told you, I ain’t going.” Millie glared across the room at Carl.

  “Put Jackson on the phone.”

  Millie handed the phone to Carl and sat down next to Clarence with a resounding “humph.”

  “Chief?”

  “What the hell’s going on there Jackson?”

  “Well, first some old codger clobbered me, and now the old biddy says she ain’t going nowhere.” He smiled at Millie, seeing the sparks in her eyes at his reference to Clarence.

  “Should have known. All right. All right. Fill her in. Make sure she stays out of the spotlight.”

  “Yeah.” Clarence hung up the phone wondering just how he was supposed to do that.

  “Chief says you can stay.” Carl snarled, noting the satisfied grin. “Give me some more of that coffee. And don’t look so damn smug.”

  Millie grinned, but stifled the giggle. She sure had missed the old coot.

  #

  Sarah filled the coffee pot with water, peering into the darkness surrounding the house. She’d been awakened by the dreams again. She shivered. Two men were going to die, and she couldn’t do anything to stop it. She didn’t even know who they were or where to start looking for them. Dammit, it wasn’t fair. What kind of gift was it if she couldn’t stop what she saw?

  “Sarah?”

  Gavin stood just inside the kitchen doorway, his face a pale ghostly mask. “You saw it too?” she whispered.

  Gavin nodded, unable to find his voice and put into words the horror the dream had instilled in him.

  “Gavin, do you know who they are?” Sar
ah approached him, reaching out to him. He moved into her arms, body trembling.

  “Rob Walker and Carl Jackson. My brother and his partner.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The sound of the key turning in the lock woke Rob from a light sleep. He’d stayed up as long as he could, prowling the room, cursing, worrying like a father waiting for his child to come home. He met Carl at the door.

  “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Taking care of business.” Carl tried to grin, but the spinning of the room made it come out lopsided. His head still hurt, and the brandy was fermenting on his stomach. He belched loudly.

  “Shit, you’re drunk.” Rob grabbed him, placing one arm around his shoulder and half lifted, half dragged him to the bed.

  Carl tried to grin again. “Jus’ a little bit. Hep’ the headache.” He closed his eyes to shut out the spinning room and immediately fell asleep.

  Rob stood, mouth gaped open, listening to the sound of Carl’s snores. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He grinned as he pulled off Carl’s shoes and gently covered him with a blanket. The grin stiffened on his face as his eyes took in the knot and slight oozing of blood. He shook Carl gently.

  “Go ‘way,” Carl slurred, turning over and continuing his snoring.

  Rob examined the knot. What if he had a concussion? He shook him again.

  “Carl, what happened out there?”

  Carl pushed at Rob’s hands feebly, muttering, “Said she ain’t going.” He giggled. “Called him Junior.”

  Rob sat down, watching his partner snore. Carl was too hard-headed to have a concussion. Pulling the blanket up over him, Rob patted his shoulder. “It must have been some night, buddy.”

  #

  Sarah refilled their coffee cups and sat down at the table, waiting for Gavin to hang up the phone.

  “Chief says they’re here somewhere. He doesn’t know where, but he’ll keep trying to reach them.” Gavin raked his hands through his thick wavy hair, a look of desperation on his face.

  Sarah wanted to say something, but stopped as José came down the stairs carrying Nikki. Juanita followed closely behind, carrying the small suitcase she’d packed.