Damned (Shaye Archer Series Book 7)

by DeLeon, Jana

  Despite the fact that he’d offered her no detailed explanation, Shaye was more than happy to arrive at the law firm before Nicolas did and enter the building from the rear. If someone was watching today, it would appear that Nicolas had visited his attorney. Since he did so on a fairly regular basis, nothing would appear untoward. Assuming the penitent had been watching him prior to now. And for some reason, Nicolas felt that was the case. He just couldn’t offer up any evidence to support the feeling. It was simply there.

  He located his taxi service at the curb and the driver assisted him with the lift. It was a short drive to the law firm and Nicolas checked his watch when they arrived. If Shaye was on time, she would have arrived fifteen minutes before and would be waiting for him now. He made his way into the building and to the fifth floor where his attorney’s offices were located. The receptionist gave him a big smile as he entered.

  “Good morning, Father Nicolas,” the young woman said. “Ms. Archer is in the second meeting room. I just took in coffee and bottled water. Please let me know if you need anything else.”

  “Thank you,” Nicolas said and continued past reception and down the hall.

  Shaye was sitting at the table, facing the door, so she could see him when he came in. A space at the table was already cleared for his chair. He greeted her as he closed the door behind him and pushed himself up to the table.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked, giving him a critical eye.

  “I wish I could say I was feeling better, but I can’t lie. I was feeling better after our talk, but then something happened to make it all worse.”

  “Tell me.”

  Nicolas told her about the letter, then pulled it from the portfolio he was carrying and passed it over to her.

  “You put it in a plastic bag,” she said. “That’s smart. Most people don’t think about it.”

  “I don’t know how much good it will do. So far, my penitent appears to be steps ahead of me, so I doubt there are fingerprints on it. And the envelope has been handled by myself and Father Malcolm and who knows how many others.”

  “True, but it was still smart thinking. You never know what might provide the break you need. Even clever criminals don’t get everything right. Those slipups are how they get caught.”

  “He’s watching me, isn’t he?” Hating that he had to ask. Hating that he already knew the answer.

  “I don’t see any other explanation.”

  “Maybe he could have hacked your computer and read the notes?” The slightly desperate tone in his voice annoyed him, but he was also beyond frustrated with the fact that someone had been watching him and he’d never noticed.

  “Because of the special circumstances,” Shaye said, “I haven’t made notes in my computer. And even when I do, the clients are listed by a number, not a name. In this case, the notes that I’ve made are on my phone and they all reference my client with the missing purse.”

  She accessed her phone and showed him the notes. “Look. I even put a picture of the missing string bracelet from the deceased niece that I’m touting as the mitigating reason for hiring me to look into this.”

  He looked at the image of the twisted strings, then at Shaye. “You really put a lot of thought into this.”

  “That’s my job.” She smiled. “I know you consider it lying but in my line of work, playing a role is often necessary.”

  “You mean undercover stuff. Like cops.”

  She nodded. “It’s an untruth that hurts no one and helps you. At least, that’s my hope.”

  “Mine too.”

  “So first things first. Who could have slipped the letter in with the mail?”

  “Anyone. It’s one of those boxes with a slot and we have to open it from the back. But it’s out next to the sidewalk. Anyone walking by could have shoved a letter in there and not been noticed.”

  His frustration and disappointment must have shown on his face, or maybe she could hear it in his voice, because she leaned forward and stared him straight in the eye.

  “You’re going to get through this,” she said. “Even if we never find out who the penitent is.”

  He shook his head. It seemed completely insurmountable. “I don’t think I know how. We’re told that prayer will heal anything over time, but I’ve prayed myself hoarse and I don’t feel any relief. My stomach is still in knots and every time I close my eyes, I see this faceless woman…”

  She nodded. “I spent a lot of years waking up screaming. I still leave lights on in every room at night. The security at Corrine’s house and at my apartment is better than Fort Knox, but I had to leave those walls. And every time I stepped among people, I wondered, ‘Is that him? Is that the man who held me captive?’”

  She took a deep breath and slowly blew it out, and he could see that her mind was revisiting some of those dark places. “But even not knowing,” she continued, “even though the fear sometimes took my breath away, I kept moving forward. Refusing to give up on the future I knew I could have. I’m an excellent judge of character. You have the strength to get past this, with or without an answer.”

  He felt tears well up. The woman across from him had lived a nightmare that was beyond comprehension, yet not only was she a functioning member of society, she was making a huge difference in the lives of the people around her. If he could manage one-tenth of her fortitude, he’d be perfectly satisfied.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Your belief in me makes me stronger. Now, what can I offer you?”

  Shaye relayed her conversation with the landscaper. “I need to know the name of the electric company that the church uses. Can you get that?”

  “It’s Freeman Electrical. I coordinated the additional outlets needed for the Easter display and spoke to the owner many times. A very nice older gentleman. I don’t know the employees, though. Father Malcolm was overseeing the recent work due to placement of the wiring and my limited mobility.”

  “The company name is good enough. I’ll just head to their office and have a conversation with the owner. If he’s as nice as you say, he won’t have a problem telling me who was working at the church that day. What about the others?”

  “The man in the Mercedes might have been Robert Croft. He’s a big donor and is involved in most of our fund-raisers. He usually meets with Father Bernard, but that couldn’t have been the case that day as Father Bernard was out. So I might be entirely wrong in my assessment, but he’s the only person who comes to mind that I’m certain owns a vehicle like the one described.”

  Shaye frowned. She knew Robert Croft. He’d been a business associate of her grandfather’s. She’d met him a couple times and always thought him arrogant.

  “Is something wrong?” Nicolas asked.

  “No. I, uh, know Robert Croft. He did business with my grandfather.”

  “It doesn’t sound like you are a fan.”

  “I wasn’t. I haven’t seen him in years. I suppose anyone could change…”

  “But you doubt it in this case. And you’re probably right. I never bought Mr. Croft’s sincerity and I’m not certain Father Bernard does either, but his money makes a difference.”

  “So don’t delve too deeply?”

  “It sounds cowardly, I know, but unless he’s committed a sin larger than his ego, it’s sometimes easier to allow them their feelings of helping the huddled masses. It’s hard to get people involved these days.”

  “That’s true. Anyway, he’ll probably see me,” Shaye said. “So there’s that. If he wasn’t at the church that day, then I’ll figure out another tactic to try to track down the Mercedes owner. What about the guy with the ponytail?”

  Nicolas gave her a small smile. “These days? You just described half the young men in our congregation.”

  “Yeah, I guess I did.”

  “But Asian narrows it down a bit. I can think of three that match that description, but I don’t know all the names. I can try to get them.”

  “You know what? Don’t worry about it ju
st yet. I don’t think he’s our guy. What the penitent did was dangerous to attempt with a child tagging along.”

  Nicolas nodded. “So that leaves you three people to check up on. It’s not a lot, is it?”

  “No. But that’s how investigations go. You pick at the tiny threads until you find the one that unravels everything.”

  “That sounds tedious and frustrating.”

  “It can be, but it’s also rewarding. I would guess the same could be said about your chosen profession.”

  “I suppose it could.” He glanced behind him, making sure the door was still closed tight. “What do I do about being followed? I can’t exactly add a security system to our living quarters without Malcolm and Bernard wanting to know why. Even if I covered the cost, they’d think it unnecessary and would insist on an explanation.”

  “Can you make sure you’re only there when one of the other priests is as well?”

  “Probably so.”

  “Then do that. I think it’s important that you’re in the company of other people as much as possible.”

  Nicolas felt a bead of sweat form on his brow and he wiped it with his hand. “So you think he’s going to come after me?”

  “I don’t know what he’s going to do, and that’s why I want you to be very careful and very aware. God telling someone to kill is not exactly revolutionary. It’s been documented in some cases of schizophrenia. But someone with that type of illness is not predictable because they’re not following a logical process like we do.”

  He nodded. “It makes it difficult to determine what he’ll do because his motivations don’t follow those of a sane person. But that begs the question of whether or not any murderer is sane.”

  “Plenty of them are. Some people are simply evil. Surely you believe that.”

  “I do, although I wish I didn’t have to.”

  “So do I.”

  A thought flashed through Nicolas’s mind and his stomach rolled. “If the penitent knows about you, then that means you could be in danger as well. He could see you as someone attempting to stop the work God called him to do.”

  “That’s true and it’s something I’ve already considered. The confession might have been his way of furthering his connection with God—letting you know that he was a warrior who had been called. Or it could have simply been him wanting to brag. Since your vows prohibit you from repeating what you hear, he probably considered it a safe option. The truth is, there are a lot of potential reasons for his choice. Some assuming he’s sane and some assuming he’s not. But I don’t think you’ll know why until he’s caught.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Nicolas said, his stress level rising. “I didn’t even consider that in breaking my vows, I would be putting you at risk. I never thought he’d be watching.”

  “You couldn’t have known, and I don’t need you worrying about me. You have enough on your mind. Trust me when I say I can take care of myself. I have the best security money can buy. I am an expert at martial arts and an excellent marksman. Plus, I date a cop who is very protective. If anything seems even remotely off or too dangerous for me to approach alone, I’ll get backup.”

  Nicolas nodded, feeling a bit more relieved. The fact that Shaye had chosen this line of work, despite everything she’d been through, told him she was confident and capable. But it wasn’t going to stop him from worrying about her safety. Or for praying for her several times a day.

  “Is there anything else I can do?” he asked. “I feel like I should be doing more, but I have no idea what more might be.”

  “Like I said, be aware. I’m convinced the penitent either did his research on you beforehand or knew about your condition and your limitations before he entered that confessional. It’s possible he’s someone you know.”

  It was a thought Nicolas had already processed a time or two before but one he’d tried not to dwell on. It made him overly anxious and then his thinking got foggy.

  “We both keep saying ‘he,’” Nicolas said. “Do you think the penitent is a man?”

  “Killing women is usually a male crime, but given that you couldn’t peg the voice as male or female, it’s possible it was a woman. I only have a description of people leaving the church through the courtyard door. Unless I find a witness who can describe those leaving through the front door, there’s an entire pool of suspects that we have no description for.”

  Nicolas felt despair start to creep in again. This was an impossible situation with too many variables. It was unfair of him to even hope Shaye could find answers. It probably hadn’t been fair of him to ask her to try in the first place. But he hadn’t been able to come up with another solution.

  “I know it seems an impossible task,” Shaye said, clearly clueing into his thoughts. “But I’ve been asked to do the impossible before and I’ve found solutions. Don’t give up just yet.”

  He nodded but he couldn’t help but fear that the next turn of events would be the police finding the young woman’s body. Or even worse, never finding anything at all.

  The swamp didn’t always give up its secrets.

  11

  Marcy checked their usual spot in the school cafeteria, but Gina was nowhere in sight. Marcy knew that when Gina wasn’t feeling social, she hid in the library, so she headed for what she considered the most boring place on the face of the earth besides church and school and walked the rows until she spotted Gina huddled on the floor behind a statue at the very back of the building.

  “What are you doing hiding back here?” Marcy asked, as if she didn’t already know.

  “I don’t feel like talking to people,” Gina said. “Everyone’s heard about Hailey. They keep asking questions.”

  “Oh, I’m well aware,” Marcy said as she sat in a nearby chair. She’d been fending off questions and faking outrage all morning long, and she was just about done with it all. But the last thing she needed was this bunch of losers to think she was a bitch. Cheerleader tryouts for next year were coming up and the students still picked. Marcy had every intention of wearing that short skirt straight to the popularity train.

  “What if something happened to her?” Gina asked.

  “Like what?”

  “Something bad. What if someone hurt her?”

  “Did you ever think she might have gotten what she deserved for being stupid? You don’t just run off from your home with your cell phone dead. Who does that?”

  “Maybe someone kidnapped her. Maybe it wasn’t her choice.”

  “Like who? Who would want to kidnap Hailey? Someone who needed a math tutor and couldn’t pay?”

  Gina shrugged and looked down at the carpet.

  Marcy narrowed her eyes. She’d known Gina for a long time and she knew when something was up. Gina wasn’t asking the questions at random. She suspected something and she wasn’t telling.

  “What do you know?” Marcy asked.

  Gina looked up at her and widened her eyes. “Me? I don’t know anything.”

  “You’re lying. I know that look. Tell me.”

  Gina stared at Marcy for a while, biting her lower lip, then sighed. “I saw Hailey with that tattooed guy with the ponytail. The one who works at the mechanic shop next to the convenience store.”

  Marcy blinked. Of all the things she’d thought Gina might say, that was not anywhere on the list. Surely Gina was mistaken. “Saw her doing what?”

  “Kissing him.”

  Marcy shook her head. No way did that happen. Gina was wrong. Or crazy. “You’re telling me Miss Goody Two-Shoes was kissing a guy? That guy?”

  Gina nodded and Marcy felt her stomach flop. Gina was shy and often a doormat but she wasn’t a liar.

  “I don’t believe it,” Marcy said. “You must have been mistaken. Maybe she’d fallen and he was helping her up. Maybe he needed both arms to lift her.”

  Gina gave her a defiant look. “Unless he needed to lift her with his lips, I know exactly what I saw. They were kissing and it was not a friends sort of thing. They w
ere seriously locked.”

  Marcy’s head spun. This couldn’t be. Hudson and Hailey? She couldn’t make the picture form in her mind.

  “That guy is a lot older, right?” Marcy asked. “Hailey barely speaks to guys in school. How did she even hook up with him?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know anything except what I saw that day. And I never asked. I can’t believe Hailey was keeping that from us.”

  “You mean from you.”

  Gina shrugged. “Fine. I can’t believe she was keeping it from me.”

  “She was probably afraid you’d tell her parents.”

  “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Sometimes you get spooked and do things you shouldn’t. Are you sure you wouldn’t have told? Hailey’s dad would flip his shit if he knew. He’d probably ship her off to a convent on an island of only women.”

  “Which is exactly why I would never tell her parents.”

  Maybe she wouldn’t have, Marcy thought. But Gina had never been the sort of person you trusted with big secrets. The little things she could handle fine, but the big things tended to send her into full-blown anxiety until she ended up blurting everything out. She’d been that way since kindergarten.

  “But you told the police?” Marcy asked.

  “Of course! Hailey’s missing. That guy could have kidnapped her or killed her or worse.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything worse than death.”

  Gina’s face flashed with rare anger. “You know what I mean. I know you never liked Hailey, but you could at least try being a human being and caring about something besides yourself for once in your life.”

  Gina jumped up from the floor and practically ran down the aisle. Marcy didn’t bother to follow. She’d gotten everything she could from Gina. And as she had no intention of caring about Hailey, she saw no reason to stick around school any longer, being forced to pretend. Her next conversation would go right to the source.