Gone With The Sin (Book 8) (A Harley and Davidson Mystery)

by Hart, Liliana

  Hank had never met a cop with as little investigative skills as Springer, and he shook his head.

  “You’ve been a big help, Springer,” Hank said and walked away before he strangled the guy. He was grateful Springer was Coil’s problem and not his own. Hank would’ve fired the guy on the spot if he’d been assigned to his task force, but he was no longer in charge. Thank God.

  Hank walked beneath the shaded area and ducked under the crime scene tape. Only two of the five graves were disturbed, and the coffins had been well made and of good quality to have lasted so long with little deterioration.

  The algae-covered, dark-gray headstones were hard to make out in the shaded grove. He popped out a small flashlight from his pocket and flashed a beam across the hand-engraved stones.

  “Figured it out?” Hank asked Agatha.

  “I think so,” Agatha said, kneeling closer to the open casket on the very end of the row. “Someone dug up these two graves.”

  Hank snorted out a laugh.

  “It doesn’t seem like high school kids,” she said. “It’s not like grave robbing is really on the list of school traditions. Toilet papering and writing on cars in shoe polish, but not desecrating graves.”

  “See anything else?” he asked.

  “Tool scratches on the edges of the casket and beneath the lid look like they were made with professional tools, and they were careful not to damage the material. These caskets are a work of art. They would’ve been very expensive back in that time period.”

  Hank was impressed. “Did you speak with Deputy James earlier?” he asked.

  “No, I saw y’all talking and didn’t want to interrupt,” she said. “Why?”

  “He had the same observations, but he also worked in a specialized burglary task force and knew what to look for. You on the other hand, unless there’s a history of being a very sexy cat burglar, are on fire this morning.”

  “And what does that mean?”

  “You start the day with breakfast and a fight, and now you’re deciphering clues to a crime scene. On fire.”

  “It’s been a full day,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll need to go home and take a nap before too much longer.”

  “What’s got you so on edge?” he asked, seeing the flash of anger in her eyes. Something was brewing inside her, and he had no idea what it was.

  “People messing with my friends and my town,” Agatha snarled. “I’m just sick of it. And I’m not going to sit back and stay silent anymore.”

  Hank only nodded. He didn’t think it was that at all. There was something much deeper bothering Agatha. “You’re right about the markings from professional burglary tools. Whoever lifted this lid wanted to make sure there was no damage. But the question is, why be so careful only to leave the lid off and the skeletal remains exposed?”

  “Because they weren’t trying to conceal the theft,” Agatha said. “They got whatever it is they came for.”

  “I wonder what was in there,” Hank said, waving his light around the inside of the first open coffin.

  “Whatever it was had to be historic and valuable,” Agatha said. “We’ll figure it out soon enough.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” a deep voice said behind Agatha. “But neither of you will be figuring anything out about this case. This is now under the jurisdiction of the FBI’s historic preservation section’s authority. And you need to vacate the premises.”

  “Excuse me?” Agatha asked, turning around.

  Hank winced. Deciding not to sit back and stay silent anymore wasn’t the best tactic to take with the FBI.

  The agent in question was a modern-day giant. He had to be close to seven feet tall. His skin was black as midnight, and he was dressed in a simple black suit, pressed white shirt and a black tie—standard FBI issue—and he held a leather wallet with a bright gold badge in his hand.

  Hank, who stood a solid six feet-two inches had to crane his neck to look up at the official credentials. He’d recognized the man’s voice before he’d turned to look at him, and it had been years since he’d seen him.

  “Is there a reason you’re still standing there?” the agent asked. “What don’t you understand? This is a federal historic site, and we are now in charge.”

  “And how did the FBI happen to hear about two graves being unearthed in the middle of nowhere?” Agatha asked. “Seems a little suspicious to me.”

  “We received a call from a concerned citizen. The president of the historical society was worried more historic graves would be destroyed before anything was done to stop it.”

  “Dot,” Agatha growled.

  “That’s her,” the agent said. “And apparently she’s right to be concerned because you’re out here tramping on my crime scene.”

  “I don’t tramp anywhere,” Agatha said. “I know what I’m doing, and I was invited here by the sheriff. I’ve probably got more investigative skills in the tip of my finger than an FBI suit that sits at a desk all day.”

  Hank’s eyes just about fell out of his head. Agatha must have lost her mind. If she wasn’t careful, they’d all end up in trouble.

  “Oh really?” the agent asked. “Why don’t you show me your badge, and we’ll go from there.”

  “Show him our badge, Hank,” she said, and Hank just closed his eyes and shook his head. Lost her mind. That was the only explanation. But he came up from the crouched position where he’d been watching the show and put himself between Agatha and the agent.

  “Hello Sam,” Hank said, holding out a hand in greeting.

  The man’s once granite stone expression lit up with a giant smile as he took the offered hand.

  “Hammerin Hank Davidson,” he said, pulling Hank into a one-armed hug.

  “How ya been?” Hank asked.

  “Not too bad,” Sam said. “I thought you were retired.”

  “Wait a second,” Agatha said. “You know each other?”

  “Aggie, this is Sam Jakes. He and I started out at the Philly PD together,” Hank said. “He was smart enough to escape full-time to the FBI. It’s been years. And I did retire,” he added.

  Jakes shoved his credentials back in his pants pocket and reached down to shake her hand. Agatha took it tentatively.

  “Man,” Jakes said. “It’s like you fell off the planet. No one at the bureau has a clue where you went off to. The guys miss you.”

  “I needed the space,” Hank said. “Tell them I miss them too.”

  “I understand, but the bureau could sure use you. Ain’t nobody tracked down killers like Hammerin Hank,” Jakes said.

  “It turns out I’m still of use around here,” Hank said. “Coil appointed me as special investigative detective.”

  “Not this time, buddy,” Jakes said.

  “I beg your pardon?” Hank asked, shocked.

  “Best thing y’all can do is head home and let me get to work. The FBI doesn’t need local help on this.”

  “Are you serious?” Hank asked, the first hint of anger coming into his voice.

  “Dead serious.”

  Chapter Three

  “What the heck’s going on?” Hank demanded from Coil a little while later.

  Agatha paced inside the small office. She thought she’d been angry earlier with Dot, but now she was boiling.

  “Y’all need to simmer down,” Coil said, and made a time-out sign with his hands.

  “Simmer my butt,” Agatha shouted. “That’s our scene and this is our town. The FBI has no right to sweep in and take over.”

  “Well,” Coil said. “Actually, they do. And they have. There’s nothing much we can do about it.”

  “That witch Dot Williams called them,” Agatha said. “That woman is a menace. You should lock her up.”

  “As soon as she breaks the law, I’m happy to,” Coil said.

  “Then I’m going over to Glamour Shots to give her a piece of my mind,” Agatha said.

  “Then I’d have to lock you up,” Coil warned.

  “O
h really?” she said, tears clouding her eyes. “You’re going to arrest me?”

  “Agatha,” Hank said. “Baby, what’s going on? You really need to calm down. This isn’t like you at all.”

  “And what’s wrong with the way I am?” she yelled. She couldn’t seem to control herself. She was just so…angry. Tears streamed down her face.

  “There’s nothing wrong with the way you are. But it’s not even noon and you’ve tried to start a fight, tangle with an FBI agent, and now you’re daring Coil to throw you in jail.”

  “At least I’m doing something,” she said. “You let Jakes send you off of the scene like a puppy with his tail between his legs.”

  “Wow,” Hank said, brows raising almost to his hairline.

  “That’s uncalled for,” Coil said, trying to restore the peace.

  “I think it’s time I head home,” Hank said, heading for the door. “Call me if you need anything.”

  Agatha regretted her words, but she had so much anger built up inside she couldn’t control what she was saying. She didn’t watch him walk out the door.

  “That was a low blow,” Coil said. “There’s nothing that man did to deserve that.”

  “He should’ve told that agent where to stick it,” she said, and then let out a defeated sigh and dropped into a chair. “It’s not fair.”

  “You talking about the law or your life?” Coil asked.

  Agatha just looked at him. The anger had left, and now she felt empty inside.

  “I had a visit yesterday from a very nice lady,” Coil said. “She works for the office of child welfare.”

  Big, fat tears dropped onto her lap. She’d bottled up all the feelings that had come after giving up her daughter for adoption. But recently, she’d struggled more with the idea of reconnecting with the daughter she’d never known, especially now that her attacker was dead. She thought it was time to close her life’s circle by uniting the pieces that had been shattered by violence.

  “I made an inquiry for information a few weeks ago,” she confessed. “I wanted to see how the process worked and how to get it started. I didn’t realize they’d actually begin the background check.”

  “Yes,” Coil said. “But it’ll be your final decision before the woman from child services reaches out to the adoptive parents. This is going to be a tough call, and you’ll need the people who love you most to be there for you. Pushing them away right now isn’t the best way to move forward.”

  Agatha wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I know you’re right. I’ll call him later.”

  “You should call him now,” Coil encouraged. “I know that man, and you cut him deep. His pride is grounded in his work.”

  She had to get a handle on her emotions. They were both right. This wasn’t like her at all.

  “Thanks for putting up with me,” Agatha said.

  “We’re friends. It’s not about putting up with you. It’s about being there to support you and tell you the truths you may not want to hear.”

  She got up from the chair and gave Coil a quick hug. “I’m going, I’m going,” she said.

  When she left the sheriff’s office, she made sure to put on her sunglasses to cover her red eyes, and then ran across the street to the Taco and Waffle. It was packed.

  “There never used to be a line in here,” Agatha said, looking toward the front of the line to see how many people were in front of her.

  “Come on, people,” she snarled. She tucked the loose strands of hair beneath her ball cap.

  “Would you like to go before me?” said the cultured, British voice of the man standing in front of her. “You seem to be in a hurry, and I don’t mind. Truly.”

  Agatha had that deer in the headlights stare as she looked at him. He was her height and wore a tailored, pinstriped suit in dark navy, and she could see her reflection in the shine of his shoes. His hair was curly and dishwater blond, and he wore tortoiseshell glasses. She’d always hated those glasses.

  “Agatha?” the man asked. “Agatha Harley? Is that you?”

  She hesitated before taking off her sunglasses, but she knew she had to make sure it was him. Maybe she was having an out of body experience. Maybe she was dead, and this was some kind of purgatory.

  Her mouth went dry as dust, but she managed to croak out, “Andrew?”

  “In the flesh,” he said, his smile toothy.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Nope, nope, nope.”

  Agatha spun around and bumped into an older couple behind her before rushing back out the door.

  Chapter Four

  Agatha stood in the hot shower until she was warm and pruney. The bathroom had been remodeled and updated, and it was her sanctuary. She could sit for hours on the bench in the shower and let the hot jets beat against her body. There was no phone, computer, or contact with the outside world. It was her place to think.

  She’d come to the conclusion the best course of action was to leave town for a few days. Agent Jakes certainly didn’t need her, and Hank…well, Hank was mad at her and had every right to be. He’d ignored her phone calls after she’d left the Taco and Waffle. And then there was the fact that Andrew was in town. That was a whole other problem she didn’t want to face. There was nothing in this world that would convince her that her ex-fiancé was in Rusty Gun by chance. Leaving town was the right choice.

  “Aggie,” Hank yelled, banging on the bathroom door three times before shoving it open.

  Agatha let out a screech and slipped off the bench onto the shower floor.

  “Are you out of your mind?” she screamed.

  “She’s in here,” Hank yelled into the hallway. “She’s code four.” Then he turned back to her. “We’ve been calling and banging on your door for the last hour.”

  “And?” she asked. “I’m not allowed to be alone in my own house?”

  “Coil said you were upset, and then some people at the Taco and Waffle said you’d run out of there like you’d seen a ghost. We were worried.”

  “So, when I tried to call you earlier and you didn’t answer, you’re telling me what I should’ve done was invade your privacy and talk to you whether you wanted to or not.”

  Hank flushed red.

  “Let me tell you something, Hank Davidson. I’m a grown woman. I don’t need a babysitter. And until you’re looking for something more permanent than what we have, you don’t have any rights when it comes to what I do with my time.”

  His face went stony, and she knew she’d pushed a button. “You already hurt me once today,” he said, “but I’m not going to stand around and be kicked like someone’s dog.”

  He slammed the bathroom door and left her alone.

  Agatha turned up the sauna and sat back on the marble bench. Tears mixed with the water. She and Hank never fought. Or hardly ever. She needed to apologize, even though he’d been totally out of line storming into her house.

  Agatha’s hair was still wet when she pulled it all back into a ponytail. She threw on a pair of grey sweatpants and a purple t-shirt that read, “Sorry I’m late, I didn’t want to come.” She smeared a dab of moisturizer over her forehead and cheeks and headed out the door and hustled over to Hank’s house.

  She banged on the front door. “Hank, I know you’re in there.” She used the spare key he’d given her and opened the door.

  “Don’t shoot,” she said. “It’s me.”

  He was sitting in his recliner, staring at the T.V., and doing his best to ignore her.

  “I know I hurt you this morning,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

  Silence.

  Hank wasn’t a man who showed his emotions. He guarded them, and she’d known that long before they’d become a couple. Apologies weren’t always enough when male pride was involved.

  “I need to tell you why I’ve been behaving like I have,” she said.

  “No need,” Hank said, coldly. “Coil told me about the visit from the adoption services. You should’ve come to me. I can see why your
emotions are going crazy, but I can’t understand why you’d take it out on me.”

  “Because people lash out at those they’re closest to and love the most. It’s human nature. And I’ve told you I’m sorry and meant it. Whether you forgive me or not is up to you.”

  She turned to leave the house and go back home, but his question stopped her.

  “What upset you at the Taco and Waffle? One of the people who saw you leave said there was a man who upset you.”

  She hesitated, trying to figure out how to explain Andrew to Hank.

  “I was upset,” she said, nodding. “But I was already upset before I saw him. He was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we used to be engaged.”

  “What?” Hank asked, springing out of his chair.

  “The key phrase is used to be,” Agatha said.

  Hank just stared at her. He was doing that a lot. He pivoted sharply on his heel and walked into the kitchen, grabbing an Ensure from the fridge and a banana from the bowl, and he went out to the back porch.

  She almost let him go. He had every right to be mad, and maybe he just needed space. But there was give and take, and she was hurting too. Two wrongs didn’t make a right, and she could’ve used a little compassion from Hank.

  Agatha marched through the kitchen and out onto the patio.

  “We’ve both been hurt today,” she said, “but I’m not leaving until we are back on solid ground.”

  He just bit into the banana and chewed fiercely.

  “I care about you, and although we don’t talk much about it, I love you and need you to be here for me right now.”

  “If you really needed me you would’ve told me about the adoption agency sooner,” he said.

  “I’ve spent almost my entire life alone,” she said. “I’m used to relying on myself, and only myself. We’ve been serious almost a year. Trusting someone else and relying on someone else isn’t second nature. Just like it’s not second nature for you. But you giving me the cold shoulder instead of trying to hear things from my point of view isn’t going to make things better. I was already upset about whether or not to push forward in finding my daughter and reconnecting. Then there was Dot, the fight with Agent Jakes, and then you…then Bacon waltzes into town, and he’s the last person I wanted to see. I’d talked myself into leaving town for a few days when you barged into my bathroom.”