Malevolent (Shaye Archer Series Book 1)

by Jana DeLeon

  “I had a good teacher. As soon as the doctor gives you clearance, you’ll be lounging on the couch at home, driving Eleonore crazy.”

  “Eleonore?”

  “She insists that staying with you during the day is how she can help most. Grandfather will be back from China sometime this afternoon, and he’ll be stopping by. I’ll be there tonight.”

  “And today?”

  “I have to work. I need to get answers for Emma before…”

  Corrine frowned. “Before something worse happens to her than happened to me.”

  Guilt rocked Shaye. The only reason Corrine lay here in that hospital bed was because of Shaye’s case. Logic told her she wasn’t responsible for the actions of a madman, but in her mind, it didn’t lessen her culpability. If she hadn’t taken the case, Corrine wouldn’t be in danger. Even worse, she was hiding the reason for the attack from Corrine, and even though it was for her own good, Shaye had her own reasons for keeping the information secret. All Shaye wanted to do was help Emma, but she still felt selfish for hiding things.

  Maybe because deep down, she knew that helping Emma also helped herself. Proved that she could do the job she so desperately wanted to excel at. Proved that she could find answers when the police had given up. She held in a sigh. In a couple of days, she had created weeks of issues to talk over with Eleonore. The woman was probably going to have to double her sessions.

  Shaye placed her hand on Corrine’s arm. “The first thing I’m going to do this morning is talk with a detective about Emma’s situation. I might have enough evidence now to get the police involved.”

  Corrine’s relief was apparent. “Thank God.”

  “It’s not a sure thing, so don’t celebrate yet. But I’m trying to shift the responsibility where it belongs as soon as I can.”

  “Is Emma okay?”

  “Honestly, no. She’s exhausted, terrified, and probably hasn’t slept one good hour in weeks. I don’t know how much longer she can hold up.”

  “If I can do anything, let me know. We have facilities for women…if she needs somewhere to get off radar for a while.”

  Shaye leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

  Corrine smiled. “Probably, but I’m always happy to hear it some more.” She sobered. “You be careful, Shaye. None of us are exempt from violence. You know that better than anyone. I just got a harsh reminder.”

  “I’m taking every possible precaution.” Except dropping the case.

  Corrine nodded but didn’t look convinced. Shaye didn’t blame her.

  She wasn’t convinced, either.

  ###

  Emma jumped up, banging her elbow into something hard and immovable. She panicked for a moment before she realized she was on the floor in her hotel room bathroom and that immovable object that had just assaulted her was the cabinet. She rubbed her elbow, then pushed herself up from the floor. Her clothes and the towels were still scattered across the tile where she’d dropped them the night before. She picked her watch up from the counter and stared at it in disbelief. It was almost 8:00 a.m.

  She’d slept on that floor all night.

  That explained the catch in her neck and tugging she felt in her lower back. She was in good shape, but maintaining one sleeping position for hours on cold, hard tile would put a strain on anyone’s physical fitness. She rolled her head around and her neck popped, relieving tension all the way down her spine.

  She looked at herself in the mirror and almost didn’t recognize the woman looking back at her. Her normally light skin was completely devoid of color, and her eyes were sunken into her head, dark circles surrounding them. She’d lost weight and her already-thin cheeks were starting to look gaunt.

  I can’t continue like this.

  She walked to the bed and removed some clothes from her suitcase. As soon as she was dressed, she grabbed her cell phone. The police couldn’t or wouldn’t help her. Shaye was doing her best, but she was up against something she had no experience with. It was time to take the one action she’d been putting off.

  “This is Patty,” the Realtor answered on the second ring.

  “Oh,” Emma said, surprised that Patty answered. “Hi. This is Emma. I was going to leave you a message but looks like you’re up and going.”

  “I keep trying to sleep in, but sometimes my body won’t cooperate.”

  Instantly, Emma felt guilty for her earlier mental whining about being sore. Patty lived with far harder conditions, and it would only get worse, not better. “I got the name of a therapist from one of the other nurses. She has a niece with MS and says it’s really helped improve her gait.”

  “Really? Thank you. I’m always willing to try new things. You never know what my body might respond to.”

  “Well, let’s hope this therapist is one of those things that works.” Emma pulled the card from her wallet. “Let me give you her information. Can you write it down?”

  “Sure. I’m at my desk. Go ahead.”

  Emma read the business card, then rushed forward with the real reason for her call. “I want you to list the house now. I know I could make more on the sale if I did the improvements, but I don’t think I can live there long enough to manage everything. I need to move on. As soon as possible.”

  “Of course you do. The way you’ve handled things has amazed me. Most people would have crumbled, but you’ve stayed strong and working.”

  “Working is what’s kept me going.”

  “I get that. I feel the same way. Don’t worry about the house. I have plenty of pictures that we took for the before and after. I’ll get the listing ready and will let you know as soon as it’s posted. I don’t think you’ll have to wait long for an offer. In fact, I expect you’ll have multiple offers. Will you be home later so I can drop by and get a key, or can I get it now?”

  “Actually, I’m not home right now. I headed out early to take care of errands and I work this afternoon. Can we do it tomorrow?”

  “Of course. Whenever you have the availability, let me know. I’ll hold off posting the listing until I get the lockbox on, but I’ll pass the information around my office and to a couple of clients of mine who are looking in the area. It might be sold before I get a key.”

  “That would be awesome. Thanks, Patty. I’ll call you later today or tomorrow morning and let you know when we can meet.”

  “Great. And thanks for the therapist information.”

  Emma shoved the phone in her jeans pocket and grabbed her purse. Her stomach rumbled and she felt slightly dizzy. First things first, she needed to eat. She grabbed her laptop. While she was having breakfast, she’d start researching the market for nursing jobs in other states. Maybe she’d start with California. Or even Alaska.

  Anywhere far away from Louisiana.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jackson frowned at the two news vans parked in front of the police station. Men with cameras and wiring walked around, hooking up equipment. Two reporters he recognized from the morning news stood as assistants attached earpieces onto them. He drove past and parked around back and entered through the rear door. “What’s with the circus up front?” he asked the desk sergeant.

  “Senator Archer’s daughter was attacked yesterday evening.”

  “Corrine Archer? Is she all right?”

  “Word is she’s pretty banged up, but not life-threatening.”

  “Who’s lead?”

  “Boyd got the call yesterday, but given the political angle, I’m sure it will be pushed up to a senior detective as soon as the chief is filled in.”

  Jackson nodded. The sergeant was right. Pierce Archer was a senator and one of the richest men in the state. Nothing but the best would be good enough for his daughter’s investigation. Which left Jackson totally out of the running as long as he was saddled to Vincent.

  The sergeant shook his head. “It’s a darn shame it happened to Corrine. She’s a class act. You know she’s a social worker, right?”


  “Yeah. I met her daughter the other day. They seem like good people.”

  “The best. Back in the day, Susan and I fostered kids. Too old for it now, but Corrine was a big support to us then.”

  “Really?” Jackson’s respect for the old sergeant went up a couple more notches. “I didn’t know that. That’s a great thing to do. Not many can handle it.”

  “We weren’t sure we could at first, but after a while, you learn how to manage things. We couldn’t have kids ourselves, but we ended up with some in the long run. Had eight over the years. Two of them we got to adopt. The other six are still in touch, though. All of them are doing good. Either in college or working decent jobs.”

  “Can’t ask for much more than that.”

  “No. If they’re paying their own way, not hurting other people, and not in jail, I consider them a success story. But then Susan always said I set the bar too low.”

  “How can that be? You married her.”

  The sergeant laughed. “I’m going to use that one on her next time she trots that statement out.” The phone rang and the sergeant reached for it. Jackson gave him a wave and headed over to his desk. A stack of paperwork awaited him—his and Vincent’s. Not that it mattered. It didn’t require much effort to document next to nothing, and that’s what Vincent specialized in.

  Jackson reached for the first folder and brought up the database to start logging the information. He’d been at it an hour when he saw Sergeant Boyd cross the street, pausing long enough to weave through the reporters. Jackson watched as he entered the building and headed straight for the break room. He grabbed his coffee cup and headed that way, hoping to catch Boyd alone.

  He was in luck. Boyd was pouring a cup of coffee and nodded at Jackson as he entered. He looked like he hadn’t slept well.

  “I heard you got the call on Corrine Archer’s attack yesterday,” Jackson said. “Is she all right?”

  Boyd took a drink of his coffee and nodded. “She’s banged up and has a slight concussion, but she should be able to go home today.”

  “What happened?”

  “Somebody faked a call to her office, claiming a baby was in distress. Corrine went to the location given, but the building was empty. When she realized she’d been tricked, she tried to get away, but he shoved her down the stairs, then gave her a good kick in the head. A couple of painters showed up to measure for the renovations and chased him off. They called 911 and I got the nod.”

  Jackson shook his head. “I know social workers make enemies, but that seems rather elaborate.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Whoever did it was clever enough to close all the apartment doors and clean up the lobby and hallway enough to make it look occupied. On the surface, it looked like any other rathole apartment building that she might walk into. It wasn’t until she opened the doors and saw the apartments were empty that she realized something was wrong.”

  “You heading the investigation?”

  Boyd snorted. “No lowly sergeant is going to draw the investigation of the assault on Senator Archer’s daughter. I’m sure it will be kicked up today. You interested?”

  “Wouldn’t matter if I was. Vincent won’t take real work unless he has to.”

  “That’s true enough.”

  “But I wish I could. I met Corrine’s daughter the other day. She’s a nice girl.”

  Boyd nodded. “I talked with her some at the hospital last night. Seems a class act, like her mother. Maybe a little tougher. Has a bit of an edge to her.”

  Jackson held in a smile. Corrine’s attack must have had Shaye off her game, because there was no “bit of” about her edge. Shaye’s edges were sharp enough to cut glass. “Well, hopefully, it’s wrapped up soon. The last thing we need is some loon targeting social workers. Hard enough to keep good people in those jobs to begin with.”

  “Yeah. I’ve gotta go bring the chief up to date. Wish me luck.”

  Jackson gave him a nod and Boyd left the break room, looking more anxious than Jackson had ever seen the young sergeant appear before. But then, he was being called to his boss’s boss’s boss’s office to explain an attack on one of New Orleans’s favorite natives and the daughter of one of the most powerful and wealthy men in the state. Jackson could only imagine how stressful that conversation would be. The chief wasn’t exactly known for his calm demeanor. He’d take the attack on Corrine as a personal insult to him, the police, the department of social services, the city, the state, and maybe even the universe.

  Jackson exited out of the break room and saw Vincent strolling across the department, a good hour late. Jackson headed across the room and before he could talk himself out of it, stopped at Vincent’s desk. “Did you hear about the attack on Senator Archer’s daughter?”

  Vincent flopped into his chair and looked up at Jackson. “Is that what all the hoopla is about outside?”

  Jackson nodded. “Boyd took the call yesterday but he won’t get the case, not given the vic. I was thinking maybe we could ask for it.”

  “The hell you were! The last thing I want to do is spend my time answering directly to a politician. Bad enough we’re usually answering to them indirectly. I don’t need a single bit of information to already know that everything about that case stinks. Too many suspects, for starters. Want to run down a list for me of every enemy our good senator has and combine that with the list of people who lost their kids and wouldn’t mind taking a shot at a social worker? We’d be investigating half the city, and that’s a conservative estimate.”

  “It would be a big feather in your cap, though. Think about it. With a recommendation from Senator Archer, you could take your pick of cush security work when you retired.”

  Vincent frowned, and Jackson could tell he was considering the benefit of a more luxurious retirement against the requirement of actually working. Laziness must have won out, because he shook his head. “I got plenty to retire on. Anything gained wouldn’t be worth the headache. Take my word on that, Jackson. You’re young and don’t know shit about how things work. You’ll get your chance to tangle with politicos soon enough, but not as long as I’m on the ride with you.”

  Jackson didn’t bother to launch another argument. It was clear Vincent’s mind was made up. He nodded and headed back to his desk to shuffle more paperwork, his frustration starting to get the better of him. At first, he’d been simply bored with the lack of work, then he’d grown aggravated with Vincent’s laziness and his unchecked ability to hold Jackson back. Now he was simply getting angry, and sooner or later, everything would come to a head.

  His cell phone rang and when he saw Shaye’s name come up on the display, he grabbed it and took off for the break room again. He had left Shaye a message the day before, wanting to talk to her about what he’d managed to find on David Grange, but he couldn’t imagine she was calling about David. Not with her mother in the hospital.

  When he was far enough away from Vincent, he pressed the screen and answered the call.

  “I need to talk to you,” Shaye said. “Can you get away to meet?”

  “When?”

  “Thirty minutes. The same café.”

  “I’ll be there,” he said, not even caring if Vincent bitched about him taking off again. He slipped the phone into his pocket and went back to his desk to grab his keys.

  “Where are you going?” Vincent asked.

  “I’ve got an errand to run.”

  “You’ve got paperwork to do.”

  “And it will take me twenty minutes. When you have some real work for us, give me a call. I’ll be back later.”

  A couple of detectives with desks nearby raised their eyebrows, but no one was stupid enough to comment. They all knew Vincent was slacking, but he had seniority. Without waiting for a response, Jackson turned around and headed for the back exit, already wondering why Shaye wanted to meet. He had a gut feeling that she knew something about her mother’s attack that Boyd didn’t.

  Something that might n
arrow the suspects down from half the city to a handful.

  ###

  Emma pulled on her scrubs and ran a comb through her hair. She’d ordered a huge breakfast and managed to eat at least two bites of everything. Given that her last meal had been lunch the day before, it still wasn’t enough, but it was all her nervous stomach could handle. While she’d struggled through breakfast, she’d planned her escape. San Diego had a slew of open nursing positions, and a good amount for private practices, not just hospitals. If she was going to fade into the sunset, then she needed to change everything, not just her location.

  She had enough money to get to California and live off of for several months. A beach house was out of the question; a studio apartment was within reach. As soon as the house sold, she’d have enough money to get a small place there or pick up and go somewhere else.

  Her cell phone rang and she checked the display. It was the hospital. She answered the call, expecting to hear her supervisor asking her to work another double, but it was Jeremy.

  “Ms. Frederick, this is Jeremy. Are you all right?”

  The worry was so apparent in Jeremy’s voice that Emma instantly felt bad that she hadn’t contacted the security guard sooner. He’d shoved her into her car the night before and practically yelled at her to leave. She’d followed his instructions and never looked back, but that meant Jeremy was left standing in the parking lot wondering what the hell was going on.

  “I’m okay,” she said. “I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Wasn’t you that caused the problem. Those mice didn’t blind themselves and stroll across the parking lot to die next to your car. I figure there’s things about it I don’t understand, but I didn’t have to know all the details to see you were terrified.”

  “Yes, I was. Am.”

  “I know you’re scheduled today, but I didn’t know if you’d come in. I wanted to let you know I reviewed the security footage of the parking lot.”

  Emma clutched her phone. “Did you see him?”