Ride the Lightning : Sinister in Savannah Book 1

by Aimee Nicole Walker

  “How’d the three of you meet?” Marla asked, pulling Jonah’s attention back to her.

  “Through mutual friends with the Savannah Police Department.” Jonah wasn’t at liberty to discuss the investigation involving a serial rapist and killer that had brought them together since the case was still pending trial. “I don’t suspect you’ve been waiting in the dark for me to come home just to discuss the podcast or my friends.”

  “No,” Marla said softly.

  “Then why don’t you tell me what’s troubling you.”

  “I’m dying, Jonah.”

  The tempest in his soul rumbled louder.

  Her words sucker-punched Jonah in the gut, and he was grateful he was already sitting down. He had to have misheard Marla. She was the kind of person who was larger than love and bolder than hate. A world without her was unfathomable. Jonah tried to speak but couldn’t with his heart wedged in his throat.

  The moonlight was strong enough for Marla to see Jonah’s struggle. She reached over and gripped his hand. If he’d been more prepared, he would’ve tried to shield her from his devastation. What did it say about him that she was the one comforting him and not the other way around?

  “I found out this morning that I have stage four liver cancer,” Marla said calmly.

  How could it be? He hadn’t even known she was sick. He’d seen her several times over the past week, and she’d been her typical luminescent self—defying age, gravity, and gender norms. Jonah wanted to know why she hadn’t told him sooner about her illness, but his tongue wouldn’t obey his brain’s command to speak.

  “I’ve had all day to think about my situation, and I’ve decided not to seek treatment.”

  That detonation rattled him even harder, but it enabled him to speak again. “Bullshit,” Jonah said fiercely. “The Marla I know doesn’t give up without a fight.”

  “Baby, this isn’t the same thing as teaching those snot-nosed punks down the street how to treat a lady. I am talking about the difference between the quality of life and quantity.” She gestured to her ankle-length nightgown. “This queen won’t settle for anything less than the best.” Marla took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I promised the oncologist I would think about my options. He gave me an overwhelming number of pamphlets to take home, and I read every word, including the fine print and disclaimers. I’ve made my decision.”

  “But there are treatments—”

  Marla lifted her free hand, signaling she hadn’t finished speaking yet. “The cancer has metastasized, which means I’m not a candidate for a transplant. Those chemo and radiation treatments might extend my life, but they will not save it. I’d rather live my remaining days to the fullest, and for me, that doesn’t include having poisons pumped into my body or getting nuked like a baked potato in the microwave.”

  Jonah was at a loss for words, so he went with the first thing that popped into his head. “You’re such a damn diva.”

  Tilting her head back, Marla laughed hard and huskily. Normally, her bawdy sense of humor made Jonah smile, but tonight it just whipped his battered emotions into a frenzy. “Always and forever, baby, which is exactly how I want people to remember me. I’m so glad you get it,” Marla said.

  Jonah understood where she was coming from, but he didn’t have to like it. He respected her right to choose her path, but he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. How selfish was he? Jonah nodded because it was what Marla needed from him. The remaining tension in her lean frame eased, and she relaxed against the rocking chair.

  “Do you want to go inside and talk? It will be more comfortable,” Jonah said.

  “If it’s okay with you, I’d prefer to chat outside and enjoy these mild temperatures. May is my favorite month, and I want to soak up every second.”

  The heft of her unspoken words pressed heavily against Jonah’s chest. It would be her last.

  “There are two promises I need from you, Jonah St. John, and I will not leave your porch until I have them.”

  “You expect me to make promises without first learning what’s involved?” Jonah quipped.

  “Yes, because you love me,” Marla said. And he did. “Tell you what, I’ll explain what I need from you, so you can pretend to think it over. I’ll still extract your promise, but in a way you can live with and not feel manipulated.”

  “Too late,” Jonah said.

  Marla’s full-bodied laughter echoed off the house before the wind carried it away. They sat quietly, listening to the crickets for a few minutes before Jonah said what they both knew he would.

  “I promise.” He wouldn’t deny her anything, so why waste precious time pretending otherwise?

  “It’s going to take Betty time to get used to you, so be patient with her,” Marla said.

  Jonah should’ve known Marla’s top priority would be making arrangements for her French bulldog named after her favorite Golden Girl, Betty White. He’d always wanted a dog but never gave in to his desire because of his long work hours. He’d find a way to make sure Betty was happy, even if it meant using a doggy daycare.

  “I will spoil her rotten,” Jonah said. “What’s the other thing I agreed to do?”

  “This one is harder, but after listening to the kickass podcast, I think it’s something you and your friends will love to tackle since none of you can stand an injustice,” Marla said.

  Intrigued, Jonah angled his body to face her. “An unsolved case? You have my attention.”

  “In 1982, a dear friend was brutally murdered. The cops didn’t put much effort into solving Earl Ison’s case because he was a gay man and a part-time drag queen known as Lola the Ice Queen. I, along with some of Earl’s other friends, got tired of their bullshit and started harassing the police department, even though we knew we were putting our lives in danger. We staged protests and marches, knowing all along we were going to get arrested for stirring up shit, but it would’ve been a victory if one of those lawmen saw Earl as a human instead of a gay man who sometimes dressed in women’s clothing.” Marla grew quiet as she stared off into the night.

  “Your plan didn’t succeed?” Jonah asked.

  “Yes, but not in a meaningful way or how we wanted.” Marla pivoted in her rocking chair, angling her body toward Jonah and meeting his gaze. “In 1995, Bo Cahill, who was already on death row for another murder, confessed to killing Earl a week before his execution.”

  Jonah tipped his head to the side. “I thought you said it was an unsolved case.”

  “No, you said it was an unsolved case. I called it an injustice.”

  “How so, if the killer confessed?” Jonah asked.

  Marla rolled her eyes. “Child, please. You can’t believe every person who’s confessed to a crime really committed the offense.” Of course, he didn’t.

  “You’re saying Bo Cahill gave a false confession,” Jonah said. “Why would he lie? I understand when the reverse happens, but confessing to a murder you didn’t commit doesn’t make any sense.”

  “That’s for you to find out, honey. I didn’t believe his confession then, and I don’t believe it now. The cops and DA were all too willing to accept the confession and close Earl’s case, and my continuous harassment only spelled trouble I couldn’t afford. I promised myself I’d find the truth someday, and I think I was waiting all this time for you to come along. Earl’s killer is still out there, and I want to make this right for my friend before…”

  She dies.

  “This aging queen is asking a lot, but you promised me.”

  “Yeah, I did,” Jonah said, nodding. “Tell me everything you know about Earl’s death and what was going on in his life at the time. I know it’s been almost forty years, but a minor detail could hold major significance.”

  “I can remember it like it was yesterday.” Her dark eyes took on a faraway look. “Earl had started dating someone new and was really excited about it. The relationship wasn’t without big issues though. His boyfriend wasn’t out to his friends, family, or at work, a
nd I don’t think Earl had revealed Lola to him yet. I tell you, baby, I knew it was a recipe for disaster. Earl was so happy and in love, so I bit my tongue.” Marla smiled wryly. “It was the last time I did so too.”

  “Had Earl’s personality changed a lot after meeting this person? Were there any indications he was involved in an abusive relationship?” Jonah asked.

  “He had changed a lot, but he hadn’t acted jumpy or scared. Earl had just pulled away from his friends and spent all his free time with his boyfriend.” Jonah heard a hint of bitterness in her voice which time, heartbreak, and loss hadn’t erased. Resentment was a foe he knew all too well. “Earl never had bruises or scrapes he couldn’t explain. He’d just turned dismissive as if he were too good for us once this guy noticed him. It also wasn’t uncommon for some queens to tone it down for a man.”

  “Not you, I bet.”

  Marla laughed. “Never, sugar. There are certain things I am unwilling to compromise and staying true to myself tops the list. Love me as I am or get the fuck gone. My plan might’ve backfired a bit since I will die single.”

  Jonah hated how she could utter the hateful word with such ease. Marla was one of the most perceptive people he’d ever met, so it didn’t surprise him when she squeezed the hand she still held.

  “I’ve never been one to hide from the truth. I’m sorry if I’ve upset you.”

  Jonah’s eyes watered, and his nose started to burn, but he blinked the tears away before they could fall. Him giving in to his grief was not what she needed right then. “Never apologize for being you, Marla. You might die single, but you will be loved, and you won’t be alone. That’s promise number three.”

  “I’d like to ask for a fourth, but I think I’ve already pushed my luck tonight.” Or maybe she realized Jonah would agree to anything and didn’t want to press her advantage. Jonah decided to push on with his questions so he could start looking into Earl’s case.

  “Confessions without corroborating evidence aren’t admissible in court, so I’d like to think the cops working the case would go the distance to make sure Bo Cahill’s confession was legitimate before they closed the case. Did the chief or the investigating officers discuss why they so readily accepted the confession?”

  “The detectives working the case, Milton and Morrisey, told me Bo Cahill gave them details of the crime scene that only the police and the perpetrator would know,” Marla replied. “I’d heard there was a GBI agent working the investigation, but I never met one.”

  “What reason do you have to believe they weren’t telling the truth?” Jonah asked.

  Marla tapped her temple, her heart, and then her stomach. “Instinct. I’m never wrong. I’m not saying Milton and Morrisey lied to me. Maybe they were nothing more than pawns, but something doesn’t add up.”

  “You think someone fed information to Bo Cahill and walked him through a confession?”

  “It’s exactly what I think. I just don’t know who.”

  “Why would he agree?” Jonah said.

  “Maybe he was protecting someone he loved.”

  Jonah considered it. “The real person who killed Earl, maybe?”

  “Could be, or maybe there’s no connection at all. Bo just happened to be the first man up for execution after Earl’s death. I think an ambitious person set the confession in motion. Maybe to shut me the fuck up so I’d stop coming into the police station and demanding to know the latest updates in Earl’s investigation,” Marla said.

  Jonah wanted to say it was too big of a leap, but Bo Cahill confessing was a win-win for the DA and the police department. “I’ll try to access the case file tomorrow. In the meantime, I need you to make a list of everyone you think I should interview—Earl’s friends, cops, coworkers, and family members.”

  “I will start on that now,” Marla said, untangling her fingers from his. She started to rise, but Jonah reached out and stopped her.

  “Don’t rush off,” he said. “Tell me the tips and tricks I’ll need to know about Betty.”

  Only when she talked about her beloved dog did Marla begin to cry. Jonah wrapped an arm around her slender shoulders.

  “She’s the best girl, Jonah. You’re going to be damn lucky to have her in your life.”

  “I will show my gratitude for her every day,” he promised. And for you.

  “I’m glad you moved next door to me,” Marla said tearfully.

  “Me too, Marla. Me too.”

  “Yo, Eagle,” a voice called out from the back of the Humvee. “You sure got quiet last night after receiving letters from home. Is everything okay?”

  Without missing a beat or taking his eyes off the convoy vehicle in front of theirs, Eagle replied, “I assigned you to look out for insurgents, not bust my balls about letters from my wife, Lion.”

  “Uh-oh,” Cobra said in an ominous voice.

  “Sounds like someone didn’t live his time on leave to the fullest,” Dragon added

  “Fuck off. All of you,” Eagle said, but there was no mistaking the humor in his voice. “Kirsten is pregnant. I’m going to be a dad.”

  Excited whooping erupted throughout the tightly packed armored vehicle.

  “I take it back,” Dragon said.

  “Attaboy,” Cobra cheered.

  “I’m scared shitless, man. A baby,” Eagle said, shaking his head. “I—”

  A loud boom cut off his words as the Humvee in front of theirs exploded. Eagle cut hard to the right just as a secondary detonation went off, sending their vehicle into a sickening roll.

  Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat.

  Jonah jackknifed up in bed as another loud blast shook his house and the drumming sound intensified. Jonah’s raspy breaths sounded loud in the silence as his brain registered he was in his bedroom and not back in Afghanistan. God, he’d never been so relieved in his life to hear thunder and rain splattering against the windows.

  The respite was short lived. His friends were gone, and it was his fault.

  Jonah flopped back onto his bed and willed his racing heart to slow down. That’s when another thump sounded, but it had nothing to do with the storm raging outside his house. A loud moan and a giggle quickly followed the noise, which meant Kendall was home and he wasn’t alone.

  Like Marla, his friendship with Kendall had caught him off guard. He’d met the younger man at a club called The Cockpit where Kendall worked part-time, and they’d spent the entire weekend fucking like animals. When Kendall left his bed in the early Monday morning hours, Jonah hadn’t expected to see him again unless he pursued Kendall at the club. In a weird twist of fate, Jonah received a call from his detective friend Royce Locke, asking him to verify Kendall’s whereabouts over the weekend. Kendall had returned home to find his roommate dead, and the person who discovered the body is always at the top of the suspect list. Jonah’s role in Kendall’s life swerved from random weekend hookup to alibi.

  Kendall’s roommate wasn’t just anyone either. Vivian Gross had been a prominent attorney for high-profile clients like Franco Humphries, the serial rapist and killer whose investigation brought Felix and Rocky into Jonah’s life. Royce Locke, along with his boyfriend and partner, Sawyer Key, put a clandestine task force together to nail the man for the crimes he’d committed. They put the sick bastard behind bars and forged wonderful friendships.

  Jonah hadn’t known about the connection between his hot weekend hookup and the attorney representing one of the vilest men on earth, but then again, Jonah hadn’t been interested in the other jobs Kendall worked or who he knew. They hadn’t exchanged phone numbers because neither of them had wanted to pursue a relationship. Kendall worked two jobs and went to college, and Jonah wasn’t in the right mental space to entertain a romantic relationship. He liked Kendall and had offered him the use of his guest room since the condo he’d shared with Vivian was a crime scene.

  Seven months later, Kendall was still living in his house, but as a paying tenant. The two men shared an easy camaraderie that wasn’t complicated by
sexual tension since they’d worked it out of their systems.

  Rapid thumping sounded from the room below his as Kendall’s bed frame repeatedly banged against the wall.

  “Yes! Fuck, yes!” Kendall said, urging his lover on. “Harder. Faster.” Whomever he’d brought home complied. The headboard banging intensified in both frequency and speed.

  Jonah’s cock started to stir. Who could blame him? Hearing two men fucking always had that effect on him. Throw in his long-ass dry spell, and who wouldn’t spring wood? Deciding to settle for a beer, Jonah threw back the covers and pulled on a pair of basketball shorts to cover his bare ass.

  The sex sounds were even more intense on the first floor where Kendall’s bedroom was located. His roommate moaned incoherently, and his guest grunted before they both fell silent. Jonah raised his bottle of beer to toast the pair and headed to the front porch, where he’d have a front-row seat for nature’s performance.

  The cool air felt wonderful against his heated flesh. Jonah breathed deeply, working to calm himself after his nightmare by cataloguing his favorite scents and remembering simpler times. The musky, pungent smell of freshly turned earth and the sweet, sharp scent of a newly cut lawn reminded him of the many hours working beside his granny in the yard. Oscar would get pissed about Granny making him a sissy boy and would drag him off to fish at the lake. Jonah had cried the first time Oscar put one of the worms on a fishhook. Oscar swore it didn’t hurt the worm, but Jonah didn’t believe him. From then on, Jonah had done his best to rescue every worm he’d encountered, especially after a hard rain flushed them from their hiding spots.