Ride the Lightning : Sinister in Savannah Book 1

by Aimee Nicole Walker

Jonah chuckled. “That’s nicer than what Rocky called you.”

  “What did the sleazy bastard—”

  Jonah hung up on Felix before he could finish asking his question. He felt much better after working things out with his friend and decided to give Felix the benefit of the doubt. A few hours later, Jonah could hear his two podcast partners squabbling on the porch before either of them knocked. In fact, they were so involved in calling each other names, they didn’t hear him open the door.

  “I meant what I said. You’re an attention whore,” Rocky told Felix.

  Felix snorted. “Maybe I am, Major. Let’s not pretend you’ve never gotten your hands dirty.”

  “Major?” Jonah asked, startling them both. “Is it short for Major Pain in the Ass, or are you terrible at insults, Felix?”

  Felix rolled his eyes. “It’s Rocky’s first name.”

  Jonah looked at Rocky. “Really?”

  The private investigator heaved a sigh. “Give me a beer, and I’ll tell you the story.”

  “You’ve already told Felix?” Jonah asked. “And he’s your nemesis.”

  Felix tilted his head back and laughed. “I didn’t need him to tell me. Investigative reporter, remember?”

  “Big fucking deal,” Rocky scoffed. “So, you uncovered my full name.”

  “That’s not all I know, stud,” Felix said before sauntering into the house like he owned it.

  Rocky met Jonah’s curious gaze. “He’s insufferable. Please tell me your sweet roommate is home. Seeing his pert ass would help offset your seriousness and Felix’s dickishness.”

  Jonah laughed. “He’s here but sleeping off his wild weekend.”

  “Damn,” Rocky said, snapping his fingers.

  “I’m making barbecue ribs, coleslaw, and collard greens for dinner if it makes you feel better.”

  “It’s a good start,” Rocky said before patting him on the shoulder and entering the house.

  Never a dull moment.

  “So, Major,” Jonah said, following Rocky to the kitchen where Felix was twisting the caps off three bottles of beer. “What were your parents thinking?”

  “My mom had a lot of complications during labor, and it was left to my dad to complete the paperwork. He told me he was an emotional disaster. He was excited to have a son but worried sick about my mom. A nurse took pity on him and helped him with the paperwork. She asked questions, he answered, and she would fill in the lines. When it came to my name, my dad told her they were naming me after a great-great-great-grandfather who was a Civil War hero named Major Rockford Michael Jacobs. My first name was supposed to be Rockford, but the nurse took him literally and entered my great-great-great grandpappy’s title as my first name.”

  “Oh, man. Was your mom upset when she found out?” Jonah asked. Felix’s eyes widened in alarm. Before Jonah could ask what his problem was, Rocky answered him.

  “My mom died from her complications,” he said softly.

  Jonah felt like a complete ass. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” Rocky replied, patting him on the shoulder. “My dad remarried when I was five, and Michelle is the only mother I’ve ever known.”

  “I don’t feel like such an asshole now,” Felix said.

  “Don’t sound so smug. I still think you’re an attention whore,” Rocky told him.

  The two of them verbally sparred for at least ten minutes before Jonah shoved them toward the backyard where he already had the ribs grilling.

  “So, what did you find out about Bo Cahill?” Jonah asked Felix.

  “He was a fifty-year-old black man who shot a twenty-six-year-old white man he caught raping his wife,” Felix said. “This Vanderwahl guy also happened to be the sheriff’s son. The prosecution claimed it was a consensual affair between Mrs. Cahill and Mr. Vanderwahl. They accused Bo Cahill of lying in wait to catch the two in the act.”

  “That’s why they were able to convict him of murder in the first degree, which made him eligible for the death penalty,” Jonah said.

  “Yes,” Felix said. “After reading the file, I believe Mr. Cahill was telling the truth. There’s more than one travesty of justice here, fellas.”

  “Oh fuck,” Rocky said. “And Cahill was the sheriff’s guest until he was transferred to the state penitentiary after his conviction.”

  “What do you want to do next?” Felix asked them.

  “We dig up every rock until we find the truth,” Jonah said. “As expediently as we can because I don’t know how long Marla has.” He told them about Ellen’s caveat, and they both agreed.

  “It could unravel quickly once we start pulling strings,” Rocky added.

  Felix nodded. “The key is determining which are the right ones to tug.”

  They spent the next few hours eating and formulating a game plan on how to attack both investigations simultaneously. There was no tension or lingering bitterness between them. Still, Jonah couldn’t shake the foreboding unease in the pit of his stomach. The repercussions of their investigations could be far-reaching, stirring up painful memories and trouble where they least expected it. He imagined the process was like poking a hornet’s nest with a stick. Some people wouldn’t want the truth to come out and would go to any lengths to keep it buried. Was Jonah prepared to feel the sting?

  Hell yeah.

  On Monday morning, Jonah wasn’t the least bit surprised when he swiped his badge and discovered his access to open the employee’s door was denied. He walked around the building and entered the same door as their visitors would. The receptionist looked nervous as he approached.

  “G-g-good morning, Jonah,” she said, fidgeting in her seat and offering a nervous smile.

  “Get him out here, Mary,” Jonah replied in response.

  Mary didn’t ask which “him” he had referred to. She picked up her phone and dialed an extension while winding her pearl necklace around a finger. “Mr. Trexler, Agent St. John would like to speak—” Mary’s gaze jerked up to Jonah’s, and her pearl-winding halted. “Yes, sir. I’ll tell him.” She hung up the phone and grimaced. “He’ll be here soon.”

  Trexler took his sweet time meeting Jonah in the lobby. “You had some nerve pulling a stunt like that, St. John,” Trexler snarled, his complexion was ruddy with anger. “Did you think the deputy director and I would overlook such a gross display of insubordination?”

  “I had nothing to do with the article, sir,” Jonah said. It wasn’t a lie. They had agreed to discuss their next move, but Felix made a preemptive strike on his own.

  A bark of dry laughter burst from Trexler. “How stupid do you think I am?” He held up his hand, showing his thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. “I’m this close to firing you outright, St. John. I would be well within my right.”

  “How so?” Jonah asked. “You can’t prove I had anything to do with the article. I’m not named as a source, and I didn’t write it.”

  “Your podcast butt-buddy did though.”

  “Butt-buddy?” Jonah asked. “Why, Supervisory Agent Trexler, surely you know that kind of language isn’t acceptable in the workplace?”

  Trexler’s complexion went from red to a deep shade of purple, and his veins protruded from his forehead and neck, pulsing angrily. “Don’t you turn this around on me, you arrogant prick. You’re suspended without pay for a week. Surrender your badge peacefully, or I’ll call security.”

  Jonah worked hard to keep his cool. He refused to “Hulk out” and give Trexler more ammunition against him, so he unclipped his badge from his belt and extended it to his boss. He tightened his grip on it when Trexler moved to take the badge from him. “Stella is my personal property. I built her before I began working for the GBI, and the agency has no claims on her. If any of you so much as touch her—”

  “No one is going to fondle your girlfriend,” Trexler said with condescension dripping from his tongue. Jonah could tell his boss wanted to say so much more. Maybe take another dig at his sexuality or call him a freak because
he liked computers. It would be so easy to goad the man into telling Jonah what he really thought about him, which he could take to the deputy director. On the other hand, Mary raptly watched the exchange from her desk and could say Jonah had coerced or pushed Trexler.

  With a week off work, he’d have plenty of time to dig deeper into Earl’s murder and Bo’s confession. So, he relinquished his grip on the badge, and said, “I’ll be back in a week to collect that, so take good care of it.” He smiled politely at the receptionist. “My apologies, Mary. I hope your day gets better.”

  She smiled timidly and nodded.

  Jonah left the building without another word. Jonah texted Avery, who wasn’t due in for another thirty minutes.

  I was just given a week off without pay. I’ll explain later. Watch your back.

  Then he sent a group text to Rocky and Felix, who immediately responded with apologies.

  Nah. More time to solve this case.

  Rocky sent him a thumbs-up emoji and Felix blew him kisses.

  Jonah chuckled and dropped his phone in his cupholder, then drove to the corner market to pick up his weekly stash of Caramel Bugles. Mr. Ling didn’t question why Jonah was getting his weekly fix before nine in the morning instead of after six at night. He simply rang him up and handed over the goods, which was precisely what he needed.

  A mid-eighties, red Cadillac convertible was parked in Marla’s driveway when Jonah arrived home. It belonged to Amos Charles, Marla’s on again-off again boyfriend. The top was up, the engine was still running, and he could see them inside talking. Anxious to see his friend, Jonah leaned casually against the side of his car and waited for them to wrap up their conversation instead of going directly inside.

  Marla got out of the Cadillac a few minutes later. Her artfully applied cosmetics and big smile didn’t conceal her exhaustion. She still looked beautiful in a pale pink summer dress and matching pumps. She waved at Amos, who glared at Jonah before he backed down the driveway and sped away.

  “I knew you’d do it, baby. I just knew.” She looked down at the white and black French bulldog sitting beside the suitcase at Marla’s feet. “Didn’t I tell you he would, Miss Betty?” The dog barked twice in reply. Marla looked at Jonah. “That means yes, darling. You better write it down and learn to speak Betty’s language.”

  “Why don’t you come over to my place so I can fill you in on the latest news. I need your help to really get this investigation going,” Jonah said. He held up his canvas tote stuffed to the brim with Bugles. “I have sustenance.”

  Marla’s eyes sparkled with mischief and purpose, eclipsing her fatigue. Feeling needed had a remarkable effect on the human spirit. “Do you also have bourbon?” she asked.

  Jonah chuckled. “How about I make us some coffee, and we can pretend it’s heavily laced with bourbon?”

  “Deal, darling.” Marla gestured to her luggage. “Be a dear and grab my valise, won’t you? I will not have my best lace, prettiest dresses, and sexiest shoes stolen while crime solving.”

  “Sounds like you need a new costume for the caper.”

  “I have many superqueer-o costumes in my closet already, baby,” she said, crossing the driveway with Betty close on her heels. “Do your business before we go inside the house, Miss Thing.”

  “Are you talking to Betty or me?” Jonah asked.

  “You can piss in your own front yard if you want to. Who am I to tell you what to do?”

  Jonah tilted his head back and laughed. God, how he loved her. Thirty minutes ago, Jonah would’ve thought himself incapable of joy. Two minutes with Marla and the world was a much better place. Then he remembered her diagnosis, and it felt like someone stabbed him in the heart.

  Seeing his mood shift, she wagged her elegant forefinger from side to side. “None of that now,” she said firmly. “I will not spend the rest of my time feeling sorry for myself, and I don’t have the emotional energy to spend on making others feel better either.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Marla gave a haughty nod. “All right, then. Let’s get down to work.”

  Jonah retrieved her suitcase while Betty sniffed the grass until she found the perfect spot to pee. The three of them went inside. Jonah started a pot of coffee while Marla sat down at his ancient kitchen table, which was a representation of both the best and worst times in his childhood.

  He’d dyed Easter eggs with his granny on the scarred surface and had completed his homework there after school every day while she prepared dinner. He could close his eyes and remember the smell of her freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. The kitchen table was also the scene of many standoffs between Jonah and Oscar when he hadn’t wanted to eat something on his plate like liver or lima beans. It was during one of those battles of will that Oscar had called him Joanie for the first time.

  “A sissy name for a sissy boy.”

  Oscar was smart enough to never say those things in front of Granny or Ellie, but he wore a hateful sneer on his face that let Jonah know when he was thinking them. The old bastard’s tactics won every time, and Jonah had bent to his will.

  He’d fallen into the same toxic paradigm with Trexler. Jonah needed to break the pattern before it broke him.

  “I love the new wall color in the living room,” Marla said when he carried two steaming cups over to the table. “It’s very serene and peaceful.”

  “Thank you,” Jonah said, taking a seat across from her. He reached beneath the table and rubbed a hand over Betty’s smooth fur. She must’ve liked it because she stood on her hind legs and placed her front paws on his thighs. Scooting his chair back, he scooped the dog up and set her on his lap.

  “Miss Thing, you know damn well you’re not allowed to sit at the table,” Marla said, but she couldn’t keep the grin off her face. “Lord, she’s going to have you wrapped around her paw in no time.”

  “She will,” he replied, not bothering to deny it. Wasn’t it better to let Marla see how much he would spoil her beloved companion?

  Betty barked, and Marla laughed.

  “You’re not all that,” Marla told her dog. “You snore, and you fart worse than any human.”

  Jonah laughed. “And here I thought you were bestowing a great honor on me.”

  Marla smiled. “I am, doll. I truly am.” She reached inside her large pink tote and pulled out a notebook. Marla ripped out a sheet of paper and slid it across to Jonah. “These are all the things you need to know about Betty.”

  Jonah read the brand of dog food and snacks, as well as the dates for Betty’s next annual checkup and the name of her veterinarian. Marla had included the brand of flea medicine and heartworm preventative Betty used and her schedule for taking them. He was not at all surprised by the care she put into the details.

  “Thank you,” Jonah said, winking at her. “So, how’d you find out about Felix’s article? Did the Associated Press pick it up?”

  “They might have, but one of my friends back here sent a link to Felix’s article in the Savannah Morning News. I can’t believe you didn’t call me,” she said accusingly.

  “Well, Felix kind of jumped the gun a little bit and caught me off guard too.”

  Marla raised a perfectly arched brow. “Trouble in paradise already?”

  Jonah smiled. “Let’s just say we’re still working out the kinks. It’s more like growing pains instead of real trouble. The three of us have very different personalities, and we’re used to working solo on projects for the most part. There is a definite learning curve in the process.”

  Marla cupped her mug with both hands and lifted it to her mouth for a sip. “Tell me everything that happened.” So, Jonah did.

  “Do you think the GBI is just being stubborn, or is there something more sinister at play?” Marla asked.

  “I honestly don’t know the answer to your question,” Jonah admitted. “Trexler isn’t old enough to have worked either case. Director Malcolm hadn’t worked for either department at the time.”

  �
�Maybe neither of them is directly involved in Earl’s or Bo’s investigations, but it doesn’t mean bias isn’t at the root of their refusal to get involved now,” Marla countered.

  “I think Trexler may be a homophobe, but Charlie Malcolm has been one of my aunt’s friends for decades. Ellie is a very out-and-proud lesbian.”

  Marla reached across the table and covered Jonah’s hand. “Honey, it’s easier for people to understand homosexual and bisexual people. Getting them to wrap their minds around transgender, nonbinary, or genderqueer people is a totally different ballgame. People fear what they don’t understand and often hate what they fear. It makes them feel less powerless. Maybe Malcolm and Trexler aren’t even aware their bias exists.”

  She made valid points they couldn’t afford to ignore if they wanted to conduct an honest and thorough investigation. “You’re right.”

  “I normally am, baby,” Marla teased, patting his hand before retracting hers to take another sip of coffee. She set her cup back on the table and flipped her notebook to another page. “I made a list of Earl’s friends for you to interview. I don’t know if they’ll remember anything more than I’ve already told you, but it’s worth a shot.” She ripped the page out and handed it to him.

  There were only five names on the list. Jonah glanced up at Marla, and his surprise must’ve registered on his face.

  She heaved a long sigh. “The eighties and nineties were brutal on our LGBTQ community, stealing our friends from us left and right. I feel lucky to have lived as long as I have,” Marla said. She shook her head. “Nope. We’re not going there right now. Not after the healing weekend I had with my family.” Marla’s bottom lip quivered for a few seconds, which she covered by taking another sip of coffee. “Doll, are you sure I can’t have real bourbon in this coffee?”

  Jonah felt the grip on his emotions slip and gave himself a mental shake and firm lecture. Don’t lose your shit and cry. If you could choke down liver and lima beans, you can choke back the tears until after she leaves.

  “Of course.” Rather than set Betty down, he carried her into the kitchen. Jonah retrieved the liquor from the cabinet and set it down on the table in front of Marla, who giggled as she added a generous amount in her coffee cup.