Jonah jerked to a halt, pivoted, and strode toward Avery, who mistook the intensity on Jonah’s face as anger. He backed up until his body pressed against the door, and there was nowhere for him to go. Avery notched his chin up higher, challenging Jonah.
“You want me to do you? Is that what you just said?” Jonah didn’t press his body to Avery’s, but he stood close enough to feel his intern’s heat. Avery’s soap or fabric softener smelled like rain.
Avery’s pupils dilated, and he darted his tongue out to moisten his lips. Jonah couldn’t tear his eyes away from the movement. What he wanted most in the world was within his reach. Avery emitted this little whimpering gasp that grabbed Jonah by the balls, and the moth glided closer. “It is what I said,” Avery whispered. He started to lift his hand toward Jonah’s face when a burst of laughter from the hallway startled him.
Jonah pushed off the door and walked over to the sink.
What have you done to me, Aunt Ellie?
Jonah rubbed a wet paper towel over the enormous coffee stain on the front of his dress shirt.
“You’re not doing it right,” Avery said as he approached.
Jonah jerked his head up and met Avery’s gaze. “Absolutely no one has ever told me that before,” he said huskily.
Avery swallowed hard as he took the wet paper towel from his hands. “You have to dab it,” he said, demonstrating. “Otherwise you’ll make it worse.”
Jonah wrapped his hand around Avery’s wrist, hating the fabric separating their skin. “I think I got it now.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind showing you again.”
“Yeah.” He reluctantly released Avery’s wrist one finger at a time. Reclaiming the paper towel, he added, “It’s a good thing I started keeping extra clothes in my closet once you started working for me. At least you didn’t scald my crotch again.” Jonah ignored Avery’s stifled giggle. “You seem extra animated today. What’s up?”
“I have a blind date,” Avery replied miserably.
That explained the shirt and haircut. “Tonight?” Jonah felt like someone had punched him in the gut, rendering him breathless.
“No,” Avery replied. “At lunch.”
“Who goes on a blind date during their lunch hour from work?”
“A person who knows nothing will come from it and wants a valid reason why he has to leave,” Avery replied.
Jonah just blinked at him for a few seconds. “That’s actually kind of genius.”
“If it goes really, really bad, I can leave even earlier by using my asshole boss as an excuse?”
“Me?” Jonah asked. Was he an asshole to Avery?
“Yep. I can say you don’t do anything for yourself, and I have to pick up your lunch, dry cleaning, or your boyfriend’s birthday present.”
“Boyfriend? Dry cleaning? How long have you been thinking up excuses to leave this date?”
“Since my best friend set it up,” Avery replied. Jonah had heard Avery talk about Karlee enough to know she wouldn’t fix him up with a loser. Avery stared him directly in the eyes and said, “He’s not who I want.”
The moth flew closer still. Jonah’s body heated with the possibilities. Who do you want? They’d been dancing around each other for months. Four little words and he could learn the truth once and for all. That wasn’t the question that came out when he opened his mouth. “How could you possibly know that when you haven’t even met him yet?”
“I just do.”
“Stop focusing on the negative things that could happen and trust your friend to have your best interests at heart. It’s how I ended up with you as my intern. Maybe you’ll have a great time.”
Avery smiled. “An excellent point.” He tipped his head to the side and scrutinized Jonah. “You seem extra broody. Is something wrong?”
The door swung open, and two agents entered the restroom, saving Jonah from having to answer. He wasn’t ready to talk about Marla to anyone yet. He’d half-convinced himself he’d dreamed the entire conversation until Jonah saw her leaving in a cab at eight in the morning. Marla didn’t like to be awake before noon or show her face to the world before two. Jonah regretted he hadn’t insisted on driving her to her appointment with the oncologist.
“There will be times when I might need to take you up on your kindness, baby, but tomorrow isn’t one of them,” she’d said on his porch the previous night.
The two agents, Paxton and Meyers, looked between Jonah and Avery as if they’d interrupted something. Paxton wore a bemused expression while Meyers maintained his typical stony façade. The partners were as different as day and night—in looks as much as their temperaments. Paxton was tall and whipcord-lean while Meyers was short and built like a block of ice.
“Avery, Mary is looking for you,” Paxton said after a few awkward seconds. “She said you have a visitor in reception.”
Avery gasped. “He’s here? I thought we were meeting at the restaurant.”
“Hot date?” Meyers asked.
“Blind date,” Avery said. He moved past the two agents to wash and dry his hands.
“During your lunch hour?” Paxton asked.
“You explain it to them,” Avery said over his shoulder on his way to the door.
The two agents looked at Jonah expectantly, so he repeated what Avery had said.
“That’s damn smart,” Meyers said. Paxton nodded.
Standing around the men’s room and chatting with these guys wasn’t on his list of things he wanted to do. Jonah tossed his wet paper towel in the wastebasket and headed toward the door. “See you around.”
“Hey, St. John,” Paxton called out.
Jonah sent a silent plea for mercy as he slowly turned to face the men. “Yeah?”
“For what it’s worth, I think you got a raw deal yesterday with Trexler,” Paxton said.
Meyers nodded.
“The man has it out for you,” Paxton said.
“Real bad,” Meyers added.
“Thanks for the heads-up, guys,” Jonah said, although they weren’t telling him anything new. “See you later.”
He retreated to his office and decided to work through his lunch hour since it might be the only free time he had to look into Earl Ison’s murder.
Before Jonah had joined the Savannah branch of the GBI, the process would’ve required an agent to dig through moldy, dusty case files at a storage facility. Jonah had overseen digitalizing thousands of case files and uploading them into the system so Stella could access prior case history when looking for patterns in crimes. It was one of the things Butch Trexler bitched the most about because it had cost the agency a substantial chunk of money and time to make it all happen. It didn’t matter what Trexler said, because Jonah and Stella had solved three cold cases and discovered patterns among unsolved investigations when no one else had. In each instance, it was the tiniest piece of evidence tying the crimes together. Jonah had also worked with Savannah PD on challenging cases to develop criminal profiles based on evidence they’d gathered. Trexler could bitch all he wanted about technology being unreliable, but Jonah’s track record said otherwise.
Once back in his office, Jonah bypassed the GBI-issued computer on his desk and went straight to Stella, who occupied her own corner in his office. He typed Earl’s name into the database, and within minutes, he had access to the entire case file, which was pitifully thin for a homicide investigation. There weren’t pages upon pages of interview notes like he expected to find. The handwriting was barely legible on what was there, but Jonah managed to make out most of what the investigators wrote.
On June 12, 1982, a construction crew had found Earl Ison’s body on a jobsite when they arrived for work. He’d been severely beaten, strangled with one of his stockings, and someone had shoved a pair of silk underwear in Earl’s mouth. They were presumed to be his since his skirt was hiked up to his waist, exposing his bare genitals for everyone to see. The crime scene photos didn’t show the staging, however, because the investigator doc
umented that one of the workers on the crew lowered the skirt before the cops arrived. Jonah briefly wondered what pronouns he should use but decided to stick with Earl, he, and him because it was how Marla had referred to her friend, and she knew Earl best. Both of Earl’s stilettos had come off during the struggle, and one heel had snapped off completely from the sole.
After studying the disturbing crime scene photos, Jonah continued looking through the rest of the file, noting a few meager interview notes with the construction workers but nothing else until October 1995 when Morrisey and Milton headed to Georgia State Prison in Reidsville to interview Bo Cahill after he confessed to killing Earl. The detectives hadn’t documented any of the conversations they’d had with Earl’s friends, family, or coworkers, and that was just sloppy policework. Marla claimed to have made a considerable nuisance of herself but none of that was noted in the file either. Cops often documented when someone was highly invested in a case because sometimes that person was the perpetrator making sure the police weren’t getting too close to them.
According to the Cahill interview, Bo was in Savannah visiting friends when he met Lola at a bar. Bo didn’t realize Lola was a man dressed in drag until they left together. He claimed to have gone into a rage when he found out. Cahill had punched Earl hard enough to knock him out with one blow, then drove him someplace isolated, which happened to be a new neighborhood under construction. Bo stated he dragged an unconscious Earl out of the car and into an empty house, then strangled the prone man to death with one of the stockings. Afterward, Cahill reportedly masturbated with the silk panties and shoved them in Earl’s mouth. He deliberately left the skirt up to shame him. Bo stated Earl had never regained consciousness and hadn’t put up a struggle.
Morrissey or Milton had noted in the file that the underwear stuffed in Earl’s mouth were not public knowledge, and the coroner had found trace evidence of semen on the purple fabric. Jonah rolled around what he knew about DNA testing. At the time of Earl’s death, they weren’t using the kind of sophisticated analysis they were today. Techniques would have been available when Bo confessed thirteen years later though. There was no record they tested the semen to tie it to Cahill. The confession matched what the physical evidence told them, and he stated details only the killer knew. Cahill was heading to the electric chair the following week, so why waste taxpayer money for tests that wouldn’t be used to convict him? Was that the logic they used to justify policework that was negligent at best and criminal at worst?
There’s no way in hell Jonah would’ve accepted that as the only bit of proof. They’d made no attempt to corroborate Cahill was even in the area when Earl died. Bo Cahill said, “I did it,” and Morrisey and Milton said, “Okay.” It was probably followed with, “Thank God. Now we can get that Marla bitch off our asses.”
The chief of police at the time, Deacon Potter, signed off on closing the case, and that was it. Jonah shook his head, then began a new search. He typed in Bo Cahill’s name and hit enter. His file wasn’t one that had been digitized and uploaded, but Jonah could still see Bo’s criminal record.
On June 10, 1982, Bo Cahill was arrested for the murder which had sent him to death row. According to the information, Cahill was denied bail and remained incarcerated before and during his trial. He would’ve been transferred to GSP upon his conviction.
June 10 th?
Jonah returned to Ison’s file again. He looked for any discrepancy in the dates, but Earl’s death was consistently documented as June 12th.
If these dates were correct, Bo Cahill could not have killed Earl Ison.
Jonah looked for the name of the GBI agent who was involved in Earl’s investigation. Marla had thought one was assigned to the homicide, but Jonah couldn’t find a record of that anywhere. If the file was in the database, it meant GBI had been given a copy at one time. Someone within the bureau had either requested it or SPD had sent them the file and requested their assistance. Had someone in the bureau been involved in the cover-up? Jonah wouldn’t know unless he obtained approval to reopen Earl Ison’s case.
The proper protocol would’ve been for Jonah to take what he discovered about Earl Ison to his immediate supervisor, but since Trexler hated Jonah, it would’ve been a colossal waste of time. Trexler would’ve told him to send the information to him, and he’d look through it when he had time.
Time was something Marla might not have much of, so Jonah decided to go over Trexler’s head and take the information to the deputy director, Charlie Malcolm. Jonah wasn’t one to exploit Malcolm’s friendship with his aunt, but this was for a worthy cause. Trexler would be furious when he found out, but Jonah felt his actions were justified.
He learned from Malcolm’s personal assistant that the deputy director was out to lunch, but she said Malcolm had twenty minutes free immediately afterward.
“So, around one o’clock?” Jonah asked.
“Yes, unless he’s running late,” Desiree replied.
“I’ll be there, Desiree. Thank you.”
“No problem,” she said. When she cleared her throat, Jonah realized she wanted to say more. “I heard what happened yesterday. Keep your chin up, Jonah.”
Jonah winced. “Thanks,” he said, knowing she meant well. God, he hated being the center of gossip. “I’ll see you in a bit. I better head out and grab a bite to eat if I’m going to make it back in time.”
“We wouldn’t want you to get hangry,” Desiree said.
“Get what?” Jonah asked.
“Hangry. It’s when you get so hungry it makes you irritable and angry.”
“Oh. Don’t worry. I won’t ‘Hulk out’ on anyone,” Jonah said.
Desiree gasped. “You know about the office pool?” she asked. “Damn Avery and his big mouth.”
“Sure do.” Jonah’s casual tone implied he’d known about the bet much longer than a few hours. “Did you bet for or against me, Desiree?” he teased, wanting to ease the awkwardness.
“I’ve sat in during some of those meetings, Jonah. You have the patience of a saint, so there’s no way I’m betting against you. If you leave the bureau, it will be because you’ve set your sight on bigger goals.”
Her kind words improved Jonah’s mood, but not as much as a pastrami on rye with extra pickles and freshly made Saratoga chips would, so he politely ended the call and decided to bring her a few cookies from his favorite lunch spot, Bytes and Brew.
Luckily, the cybercafé was only a few blocks from his office, and the warm spring afternoon was perfect for walking. Jonah regretted his decision when he stepped inside the café and saw Avery sitting in a corner booth with his lunch date. Avery had his back to the door and didn’t see him, but Jonah got to size up the competition. The guy looked almost as tall as Jonah, but that was where the similarities ended. Avery’s date looked successful, handsome, and unscathed, where Jonah looked like he’d gone several rounds with the devil.
Avery’s posture was relaxed, and he laughed at something the man said. Guess he won’t be needing an excuse to leave early. He didn’t want to think about why it bothered him so much.
Jonah carefully moved through the line, hoping not to do or say anything to catch Avery’s attention. The last thing he needed was Avery flagging him over for an introduction.
Eating at the café was out of the question, so Jonah trekked back to the office and ate his sandwich and chips at his desk. He’d just cleaned up his mess when his phone alerted him to an incoming text from Kendall.
Sorry if things got too loud last night. A second message immediately followed. And again this morning.
Jonah sent him the middle finger emoji.
Kendall’s response was swift and snarky. Thanks, baby, but I’m worn out.
Jonah snorted, then typed a reply. You can make it up to me by bringing home Chinese and moving your headboard a few inches away from the wall.
Deal. Smooches, Kendall replied.
Avery still wasn’t back, and Jonah didn’t want to think about why,
so he forced his brain to think about Earl Ison’s situation instead.
Why were Morrisey and Milton, along with the district attorney and police chief, so eager to close Earl’s case and call it a day without taking any steps to corroborate Bo Cahill’s story? Bigotry? Laziness? Or something more sinister?
He couldn’t accuse them of neglecting the DNA evidence, because it wasn’t a widespread practice back then like it was today. Even if they had sent Cahill’s DNA off for comparisons, the results would’ve come back months, maybe years, after the correctional department electrocuted Bo Cahill. Maybe they could exonerate him for Earl’s murder now. If the panties were stored correctly, the DNA analysis could tell them a lot. They’d need to obtain a sample from one of Cahill’s living relatives for comparison if his DNA wasn’t already on file.
Jonah opened a blank document on his computer and began typing what he knew so far, the reasons why they should reopen the case, and how he wanted to proceed. Sure, Malcolm might decide to kick the investigation to a different agent since Jonah didn’t work in the field, but he sincerely hoped not. He couldn’t risk someone tossing the file to the side and ignoring it since both men were already dead. Jonah would be the only one to investigate it with any vigor and urgency, so he had to convince Malcolm he was the right guy for the job.
A knock sounded on his door. Jonah jerked his head up and wished like hell he’d yelled “go away” when he saw Avery’s gleaming eyes, flushed cheeks, and puffy lips. Don’t say anything. Don’t say anything. “Wow,” Jonah said, ignoring his directive. “That must’ve been some lunch.”
Avery’s face turned pinker. Unfortunately, he stepped farther into the room instead of shutting the door and leaving Jonah alone. “Wow,” Avery said, mimicking Jonah. “Your lunch must’ve been horrible because you’re in a darker mood than you were before I left. You did eat, right?”
“Yes,” Jonah said tersely. “I don’t need you to mother me.”
“Smother you?” Avery asked. “Did I hear you correctly? The thought has never crossed my mind. Not once since…an hour ago.”
Ride the Lightning : Sinister in Savannah Book 1 Page 4
