by Debra Webb
Jess had never been that absolutely certain of anything other than getting out of this town.
And here she was, back home… not quite at square one but close.
“You ready to go?”
She looked up at Dan. “Yes.” The weight of the day settled on her shoulders and the urge to cry came out of nowhere. Damn that too young Dr. Young. He was right. They were getting older. Falling apart, one vital element at a time. Jess already had to wear glasses.
Dan gestured for her to precede him out the door. It was late and she was tired. Otherwise she wouldn’t be wallowing in this stinking pity party.
“You’ll let me know the second you hear from Lil what’s going on?” He adjusted his stride to hers as they headed for his SUV.
“Course.”
“Chief Hogan called.” Dan opened the passenger-side door of his SUV for her. “There was another demonstration at midnight. Downtown at Linn Park.”
“Any injuries?” So far no casualties had come of the clashes between the Black Brotherhood and the MS-13, or during the former’s anti-gang rallies. Since busting up Lopez’s little sister’s party, the only homicides had been the executions carried out by the MS-13 against their own members who had been deemed traitors. But that could change any second.
The image of Gabrielle Grayson filled her head. Jess was convinced that her murder had nothing to do with the MS-13 insanity. Harper was right about the emotions that had driven the motive of Gabrielle’s killer. But someone sure wanted them to think there was a connection.
Whoever had murdered her, Jess would get him. Soon, she hoped.
She leaned back in the leather seat and closed her eyes. This night couldn’t be over fast enough to suit her. Somehow coming back here had made her far more keenly aware of her own mortality. Or maybe it was just that she had to look at all the past decisions she’d made—right, wrong, or indifferent.
Like allowing what she and Dan once had to fall apart. And spending most of her adult life far away from her only family.
So much lost time and no way to get a single second of it back.
How did she make sure she didn’t lose any more?
The answer was way too complicated to figure out when she was this tired. She just wanted to watch the lights go by and not think so hard. She’d always loved riding through town at night. The streetlights and the blanket of stars overhead… the endless possibilities. As a teenager she’d been a dreamer. She’d had so many plans. A lot of those plans and dreams she had attained.
But not all… not by a long shot. And tonight the stars hadn’t come out. Maybe that was a sign. Her attention settled on the driver’s profile. She had been so in love with him and they’d fallen apart. Maybe some dreams just weren’t meant to be.
And yet, there was still something smoldering between them. Try as she might, there was no way to ignore it. Maybe it was just a kind of friendship that came with knowing someone so intimately for so many years. Or maybe it was the real thing and they were both too preoccupied to notice.
Great. Just what she needed, another mystery.
The downtown buildings gave way to the neighborhood streets of Forest Park and her new home. Her new, luxurious bed waited inside. There was a lot upside down in her life right now, but today she had taken her first step toward righting things.
Dan was out of the SUV before she had a chance to tell him good night. He walked with her up those sixteen steps. Jess stalled at the door and faced him. There was no way she could trust herself with letting him come inside. No way.
“I still have reservations about this place,” he admitted. “You sure you’ll be okay tonight?”
He wanted to stay. The offer was tempting. Standing this close it was impossible not to feel the tension in his body. He wanted to be with her. To deny she wanted the same thing would be a lie, and lying to herself was not a smart move.
This was just another of those upside down things she needed to right. To do that, she needed a little distance and more time to understand where they needed to go from here.
“Dan, I can’t do this when I’m on a case.” That sounded so very lame, but it was true. She shook her head. “I have to keep that us and this us separate.” She wished she could find the words to better articulate her feelings. “I know what I’m saying doesn’t make sense. But I just can’t be your lover and focus on being your deputy chief at the same time. When the case is over… we’ll see.”
She doubted her explanation made a lick of sense, but she felt what she felt. As foolish as it sounded, somehow when she had no pressing case hanging over her head and they were off duty it was different. Maybe the bottom line was that too much had changed in the past three weeks. She needed to regain her footing before she could feel right about much of anything.
“I understand,” he relented, letting her off the hook. “You’re right. We need to take this slow.” He backed up a step. “Night, Jess.”
Letting him go was the hardest thing she’d done since making the decision to come back here. She was exhausted and worried and there was this gruesome case… but letting him go was the right thing to do.
For now.
When he’d driven away, she turned to unlock the door. As soon as she touched it, it swung inward with a low aching creak. The fight or flight instinct kicked in. She jammed her hand into her bag and claimed her Glock.
Beyond the door it was dark as a cave.
But if anyone were in there and wanted to shoot her or charge at her, they’d already had a prime opportunity.
With her free hand she felt for the light switch just inside the door. The glow from the ancient fixture spilled over the room.
Clear.
Relief flooding her, Jess exhaled a jagged breath.
The Grayson file was scattered over the bed and floor. She checked the bathroom and the closet. Clear. Nothing tampered with except the file as far as she could tell. Even if there’d been a breeze outside, she hadn’t left any windows up. The ceiling fan above the bed was off.
The papers hadn’t gotten scattered by a draft.
Back at the door, she examined the locks. Had she forgotten to engage the dead bolt? Evidently. In her rush to get to Lily she hadn’t been thinking. Jess crouched down to visually examine the knob and lock. She shook her head. Telltale scratches warned that someone had picked the lock.
“Damn it.” She slammed the door and set the dead bolt. Getting the locks changed to a newer, less simple system would be the first item on her agenda tomorrow morning. Before that damned press briefing.
The Glock in one hand, she surveyed her new bed. She hoped the bastard hadn’t left her a message beneath the comforter. Jess started that way but the photo of Grayson and his wife lying on the floor amid the pages from the file snagged her attention.
Scrawled across the photo in what looked like blood were three words: You are next.
Fear trickled inside her but the outrage quickly drowned it. “Son of a…” She retrieved her cell phone from her bag and put through a call to Harper. She didn’t bother with a greeting. She was too damned angry. “I need you and an evidence tech at my new place. And, Harper, I want this kept just between us for now.”
Guilt wormed its way alongside the waning outrage. Dan would be furious if he discovered she’d kept this from him. Problem was, if she told him, he’d start smothering her again—not that he’d actually stopped completely. She couldn’t have him treating her differently from his other deputy chiefs just because they had this thing.
Harper assured her he would be there ASAP.
Phone in one hand, Glock in the other, Jess sat down at her vintage table to wait.
That was when she started to shake.
2:30 a.m.
Devon could hear the angel moving around inside his house.
The angel was back to take him away.
Leslie said angels didn’t hurt live people but Devon was afraid to find out. And he knew it was the angel because no one else e
ver came to their house. The police ladies did, but that was about the dead mommy.
Maybe the angel was here because Devon wasn’t supposed to see the stuff he saw.
When he told Leslie about the angel that came to the Grayson house she got all upset. Good thing he didn’t tell her about the angel chasing him. That woulda been bad.
He hugged himself more tightly in his sleeping bag. He hadn’t hardly slept in two days. Yesterday night because of the crying baby then all day and night today because he kept worrying the angel would come back for him. That funny feeling that warned trouble was close had bugged him all day. But all day had passed and the angel didn’t come. He got mad when his sister made him go to old Mrs. Nicholson’s before she went to work. Mrs. Nicholson didn’t even like kids. The last time Leslie made him go there she asked a bunch of questions and called him a dummy for not answering. When he told Leslie she said he didn’t have to go back there anymore. Leslie must’ve been really worried to ask the old lady to keep him again.
Soon as Mrs. Nicholson was asleep, Devon just came on home. The angel hadn’t come back all day and all night.
Until now.
Leslie was right. He shouldn’t’ve gone to see about the baby or the dead mommy. Now he was in trouble with the angel. The cops didn’t know about him going over there but the angel did.
The lie he told Leslie made him feel bad in his stomach. He’d told her that he scratched his arm under the house. He was afraid to tell her about the angel trying to catch him. Maybe people weren’t supposed to get so close to an angel without going to heaven. He didn’t know for sure. But his sister had too much to worry about already.
What if the angel tried to take Leslie? He didn’t know if there were rules about that or not. But that wouldn’t be fair. Leslie didn’t do anything wrong. He was the one who caused trouble. Specially for his sister.
A loud crash above him made him jump. His heart tried to pop out of his chest. He was glad he was down here and not up there. As soon as he’d heard someone at the front door he’d sneaked out his window and down the trellis. He’d crept around to the back of the house and through the little door to his hiding place. No one ever looked under the house.
Since he made this his special place he had found all kinds of neat stuff under the house. He wasn’t scared of nothing under here. It was dark but he had flashlights. His sister was always complaining that the flashlights went missing. There were about ten under here with him but only one with good batteries. Pretty soon he would need another one.
He had a sleeping bag, bottles of water, and little cans of potted meat and a pack of crackers. His sister hated potted meat but he loved it. She made funny faces every time he opened it in front of her. Made good camping stuff. He could stay down here for days and days and just eat potted meat like he was camping. Leslie said their mom used to take them camping, that’s why they had sleeping bags and stuff, but he couldn’t remember.
He listened at the place where the silver stuff was loose from the vent in the floor. Made hearing things in the house easy. The angel was going upstairs. Probably to his room to look for him. He shivered at the sound of footsteps. He wondered how come the angel didn’t fly instead of walking up the stairs. Maybe there were rules about angels flying inside houses. Something could get broken. The scratches on his arm burned a little. Maybe the angel being close could make the scratches burn. He might have seen that in a movie. What if his skin fell off?
He shuddered. Hoped the angel couldn’t see him down here in the dark all zipped up in his sleeping bag. It was real hot outside but it stayed kind of cool under here. Smelled like dirt but he didn’t care. Not much anyway.
His breath stopped in his throat, making that loud sound in his mouth he didn’t mean to make. What if he forgot to close his bedroom window? He couldn’t remember if he did or not. If he left his window open the angel would know he had sneaked out of his room. He always closed his window, even when it was hot, if he climbed down the trellis. That way no one would notice the trellis sticking up to his window with smushed leaves and broken limbs where his hands and feet went as he climbed on it.
All day police people had been next door. They had walked all around the dead mommy’s house and the neighbor houses. He wished the police people were back, specially those two lady cops who came to his house. The angel had stayed away while the police were next door.
He wondered if that meant this was a bad angel. He just didn’t know enough about angels.
If the angel was looking for his bloody T-shirt it was gone. The dead mommy’s blood was on it and that was bad. Maybe that was why the angel had come back. He should’ve stayed in the house last night like his sister said. Then he wouldn’t be hiding under here with that dead people angel in his house looking for him.
He wished he could see what the angel was doing. Seemed like a long time before he heard moving around again. Devon held real still and listened hard. He heard the front door open and then close.
Was the angel leaving? Seemed funny for an angel to go out the front door.
He waited a really long time and then he unzipped his sleeping bag. The flashlight blinked. The battery was running out. He turned it off and left it next to his potted meat and stuff. Crawling on his hands and knees he went back to the little door and moved it just enough to peek outside. It was too dark to see anything. No lightning and not much moon. Sometimes the moon and stars liked to hide. Sort of like him, he guessed.
He was getting a little sleepy now. It was so quiet outside. The angel must have decided to fly away. That was good. Maybe he could go to bed.
A few more minutes and he would climb back up to his room. The front door was supposed to be locked but the angel had come on in anyway. Maybe locks didn’t stop angels. He wished he knew all the angel rules.
He probably should read the Bible. The preacher where he used to go to church read about angels from the Bible. Devon could read better than anyone else his age. His teacher said he was way ahead of his age group in reading. He didn’t always know what the words meant but he could take them apart in his head and understand how to say them.
His eyelids didn’t want to stay open. He was getting real sleepy. Maybe he’d just sleep under here tonight. But then his sister would yell at him for crawling around under the house like a bug. That’s what she said when he told her about this special hiding place.
“Under the house is for spiders and bugs,” she’d told him. “Maybe even snakes. You shouldn’t go under there.”
He’d never seen any snakes. Just bugs and spiders. They didn’t like the flashlight.
He was really tired. The angel had to be gone by now. Everyone else in the whole neighborhood was asleep except him.
Devon sneaked out the little door. He put it back over the hole like it belonged. He would need a bath. He smelled like the dirt. Maybe in the morning. He was too tired for a bath. He walked through the dark to the trellis. Seemed like a long way up to his window. He was tired.
He reached up to grab the trellis but a sound made him stop. He looked hard to try to see through the darkness. The moon and stars were hiding behind the clouds tonight.
Even though it was really dark he would swear that something moved close to the front corner of the house. Like something came from the front yard and then just stopped to stare at him.
Could angels see in the dark?
His chest got real tight and the hair on his arms stood up.
He knew what that meant… Run!
Devon ran. He reached the hole. Pushed the little door aside. He dove under the house.
Hurry! Crawl faster!
His heart was running in his chest. He had to hurry! All he had to do was get to his special place behind that big shiny silver thing. Nothing could get him there!
Hands grabbed his leg. Jerked him back.
He kicked at the hands. They wouldn’t let go!
He opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out.
Th
e hands pulled him closer. Pressed over his mouth.
“Got you, you little shit!” a mean voice growled.
Devon went inside himself.
Caldwell Avenue, 4:00 a.m.
Sergeant Jack Riley waited outside his south side townhouse in the darkness like a goddamned criminal. Where the hell was she?
If she didn’t get here in the next thirty seconds he was going after her. To hell with the consequences. He’d called her cell. She hadn’t answered. Finally he’d left her a voice mail and told her he was waiting.
He didn’t have to say more. That was enough to have her scared shitless, he’d bet his next paycheck. He didn’t like being the last to know anything and he damned sure didn’t like her sneaking around behind his back. She had gone too far this time. He’d let her ridiculous little mistakes go in the past. Overlooked all her annoying faults. And she had plenty.
Not this time.
This was serious shit and he wasn’t about to allow her to screw up all that he had worked for. No way. If anyone went down for this it would be her. This was her fuckup.
He spotted headlights up the street. Fury roiled in his gut. The stupid bitch rolled to a stop at the curb and shut off the lights and the engine. He didn’t wait for her to get out. Too many neighbors with nose trouble to stand around out here and have a discussion. And they damned sure couldn’t go in the house. Not with Larry and his kid here.
He walked up to the passenger side of the Corolla he was stuck paying three-sixty a month on and rapped on the glass. The automatic door lock clicked to the unlock position. She didn’t say a word as he settled into the seat. Wasn’t any need for her to say a damned thing. He knew what she’d done.
He just didn’t know the precise details. The devil was always in the details.
He let another ten or so seconds elapse just to make her sweat, then he demanded an answer. “You ready to tell me what the fuck is going on?” He clamped his mouth shut to keep from screaming at her. Same went for his hands. Squeezed his fingers into fists to prevent slapping the living daylights out of her. He knew better than to do that. Cops couldn’t be knocking their wives around—even if they deserved it. He worked double shifts three, four days a week and she couldn’t even keep her shit together for one fucking night.