by Ali Vali
Synopsis
Brains, guts, and ruthless ambition should be enough to come out on top in any fight. Except when the battle is over love, all bets are off. Derby Cain Casey was groomed from birth to take the reins of the Casey family enterprises, which just happens to be one of the major crime organizations in New Orleans. Surviving by never turning away from a fight and knowing how to win at all costs, Cain is as careful with her heart as she is with her business - until she meets Emma Verde. The farm girl from Wisconsin puts a hit out on Cain’s heart and leads her down a dangerous road filled with great joy and devastating sorrow.
The Devil Inside is the story of unexpected passion, a shattering betrayal, and the challenge of love put to the test.
The first book in the Casey Family Saga series
The Devil Inside
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The Devil Inside
© 2006 By Ali Vali. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-60282-327-3
This Electronic Book is published by
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, New York 12185
First Edition: 2006
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editors: Shelley Thrasher and Stacia Seaman
Production Design: Stacia Seaman
Cover Design By Sheri ([email protected])
By the Author
Carly’s Sound
Second Season
Calling the Dead
Blue Skies
The Cain Casey Saga
The Devil Inside
The Devil Unleashed
Deal with the Devil
The Devil Be Damned
Acknowledgments
Thank you to Radclyffe for believing in my writing and for her input into this story. I could have found no better home than Bold Strokes Books and no better family to help me grow as a writer.
After two years I’ve grown rather fond of the characters in this story, so I want to thank Shelley Thrasher for taking such good care of them. She has treated them and me with such respect, helping me to tell their tale with her expertise and infinite patience in editing. Thanks also to Stacia Seaman for her input in bringing the final product to print.
Thanks also to my partner for constantly asking the most important question of all, “What happens next?” I’m looking forward to a lifetime of answering.
Dedication
For C
My guide, my love
Chapter One
A steady rain fell over a sea of dark umbrellas clustered around a pale canopy. Two lone figures sat beneath it, next to Marie Casey’s gleaming, flower-decked casket. A dark-haired woman and a boy.
Father Andrew Goodman had feared he would one day preside over the funeral of a Casey sister but had never imagined Marie would be the one. He glanced toward the woman he had expected to bury young.
Derby Cain Casey—Cain to those who knew her—sat with one hand on her son’s shoulder and the other on her sister’s coffin. She looked deceptively calm, but beyond the face she revealed to the world, Father Andrew glimpsed a cold, terrifying rage. Before this was over, she would exact her own unique form of revenge. Blood would be spilled for the injustice dealt to the Casey family.
“Let us all remember Marie, the kind spirit whom God has called home.” Father Andrew observed the large congregation gathered around him in the Metairie Cemetery just on the cusp of New Orleans and Jefferson Parish. The mourners seemed lost in thought as they recalled their own fond memories of the young woman.
“To her parents, Dalton and Therese, she was a blessing from heaven whom they cherished from the day she entered their lives. They said that often after her birth. To her brother Billy, she was someone to protect and love, and he did so until his final day here with us.”
He removed his glasses so he could wipe tears from his eyes. The Lord could have cooperated with better weather on the final resting day of the beautiful girl he had baptized twenty-six years before. It didn’t matter to the over two hundred people who had turned out, though. Many of them were more familiar with Marie’s family than the young woman they were there to honor. The Caseys’ contributions to the community through charitable giving and deed were as renowned as the way they allegedly earned their money.
“And to her sister, Cain, and nephew, Hayden, she was a harbor from the storm.” Father Andy put his glasses back on and smiled at them, hoping to provide a little comfort. “Derby, I’m confident your parents and brother were all waiting with open arms to welcome her home. And with your family, I’m sure they had a party that’d do all the Caseys proud.”
Cain disregarded the sniffles and laments of the family members standing nearby, but graced the priest with a nod for his generous words. They were only words, though, coming nowhere near to quelling the fury she felt inside for what had happened to her sister. Her life had often been marked by loss, but to lose Marie cut deep.
The man who had killed Marie obviously intended for Cain to dream for months about what he had done. He wanted the images of Marie’s rape and torture to serve as a permanent reminder of how Cain had not only failed Marie, but her father as well, since she had inherited from him the responsibility of watching over Marie after his death. The killer had wanted her to remember that her sister had taken her last breaths alone and in pain.
If his intent was to brand her brain with his savagery, he had succeeded. Marie’s barbaric murder had killed a part of Cain’s soul as well. She would long remember every bite mark, bruise, and cigarette burn on Marie’s body.
Soon, though, she would temper those cruel memories with the salve that came only through revenge. The man who stole Marie’s dignity before pulling the trigger to end her misery would pay with blood and a world of pain. His price would be a thousand of Marie’s lifetimes before she was through with him and God heard his pleas for the sweet peace of death.
No one in her life had loved her so unselfishly as Marie. As Father Andy continued his eulogy, Cain remembered the day Marie had turned ten.
“Derby, do you think I’m pretty?”
“No, Marie, I don’t think you’re pretty. I think you’re beautiful. You get any more that way and Billy and me will get into more fights than we’ll know how to win. You’re going to grow up so gorgeous, we’ll be beating them off at the door, there’ll be so many boys after you.”
The little black-haired girl held out the sides of her new pink dress and smiled into the mirror. “No, Derby, I want to grow up and take care of you.”
“Why do you say that, birthday girl?” Cain locked eyes with her and smiled back. No one could bring a smile to her face easier than her little sister.
“’Cause you look like someone who’s going to need looking after.”
Out of the mouth of babes, wasn’t that the old expression? At thirty-six, a much older-feeling Derby Cain Casey lost track of what Father Andy was saying and looked to the oak box that held her baby sister. I’m so sorry, Marie. You did such a good job of taking care of Hayden and me, and I wasn’t there when you needed me most.
Her sister had been special all right. No one in her family cared that
her mind hadn’t matured normally, trapping her in a world of her own while freeing her to be the child she thought she was. Marie had been an innocent who had done an admirable job of helping her take care of her son Hayden. Hayden and her sister had become so attached to each other, she worried about the effects her brutal death would have on him. He had already lost his mother; it didn’t seem fair to add Marie to the list.
The sprinkling of holy water dragged her away from her memories. All that was left to do was to place the casket in the family crypt so Marie could lie alongside their parents and their brother. For one eternal moment, Cain felt almost like an orphan as she stared at the headstones that marked the final resting place of her family.
She felt like crying but heeded well her father’s voice on this one unbending rule. As the head of the Casey family, she had been trained never to show weakness of any kind in public, so now was not the time to grieve. The priest came and momentarily took her hand before patting Hayden on the head. “The church is always here for you, Derby, if you’ve a need to talk. May God bless you and your son.”
Behind them, the line of mourners moved toward their cars, looking like dead flowers cast on a lazy river. None of the attendees wanted to bother them as Cain and Hayden said their last good-byes. The ever-present wall of guards had closed ranks around them, ensuring their privacy. When she didn’t answer, Father Andy joined the others and left them in peace.
Cain felt Hayden’s grip tighten on her arm, drawing her attention from the coffin to him. “Shasta daisies were her favorite. Aunt Marie always said they made her happy.” She stayed silent and listened. Hayden had been beside her when they went to identify the body. Like his mother, Hayden had stoically and with a dry face shown the world the strength the Caseys possessed in abundance.
That her son was almost a carbon copy of her was a relief. A relief not to have to confront the image of his blond birth mother every single day. For Cain, to see any resemblance to the person she hated in the face of the one person she loved more than life would have been one penance too many.
She plucked a flower from the arrangement and handed it to him. “Keep one, son. We’ll press it into one of the books she gave you.”
“Mom?”
She cocked her head to the side to acknowledge his question.
“Would it be okay to cry now? Everyone’s gone.”
God, it sucks to be a Casey heir,she thought. The boy had tried to be strong, but in the end he was only a child. “Honey, of course it’s okay to cry.”
“It’s okay for you too. No one’ll see.”
She put an arm around her son and a fist on the casket. How absurd that on such a rainy day the wood felt warm. She silently let a few tears fall. She held her son and cried for the injustices heaped in the road that marked her life.
When, eventually, Cain turned and signaled they were ready, the mantle of power was back in place. The time to grieve, along with all the other nightmares unleashed when her defenses were down, would have to come later. Now it was time to find those responsible for making this day possible. She knew who had put her sister here and vowed to make him suffer. It wouldn’t be long before he got his own wooden box for his family to cry over.
From a distance the people Cain trusted with her family’s lives tried to ignore the tears in their own eyes as they looked at the casket upon which their boss’s hand rested. They all thought it was a good thing she had such broad shoulders, since the world expected so much of her. But they weren’t the only ones watching. Parked farther up the drive, two vans with darkened windows were abuzz with shutter clicks. All of those in attendance as well as the family were photographed for later cataloguing.
The mantle Cain was born to and had inherited from her father was the reason for the huge amount of interest. Just as her friends had gone into their father’s professions after college, she too had joined the family business. For her, however, it meant becoming the head of one of the most powerful crime families in New Orleans. The strong woman had a reputation for being vicious and hard, but she did have her Achilles’s heel. He was walking by her side—Hayden Dalton Casey—her greatest gift and her only heir. She held the umbrella for both of them as she put her arm around her son and started back to the car.
“Derby?” said Merrick Runyon, Cain’s personal bodyguard. “The padre has guts, I give him that. I haven’t heard anyone except Marie call you that since your mother was alive.” She opened the car door for them.
Before getting in the car, Cain glared at the vans parked not that far away and snarled in their direction. “You’d think they’d give it a rest, especially on a day like today. Fucking vulture bastards.” She spoke loud enough so the mikes trained on her would pick up every word. With a deep breath she let go of the anger and turned to Merrick. “As to Derby, let’s not get into that today. If my parents had met in Paris or somewhere else besides the Kentucky Derby, I wouldn’t have had so much grief over my name.”
“It’s not that bad, Mom.” Hayden bumped shoulders with her and smiled. His eyes were swollen from the crying he had done over his aunt, but he was obviously trying to cheer her up. “Want to watch a movie with me when we get home?”
“Sure, I could use a day off in front of the television.”
“It won’t be the same without Aunt Marie there, but we’ll make it through. Maybe when all this stuff gets better you’ll tell me what happened.”
Cain put her arm around him and kissed his forehead. “Are you willing to give me some time, little man?”
“I trust you, so take all the time you need, but don’t forget I loved her too. I want to know who hurt her and why. I know she didn’t drive, so something else put those cuts and bruises all over her.”
Cain looked at her son and ran her fingers through his dark hair. “How’d you get to be so smart?”
“It’s the Casey genes floating to the top.”
She realized that her father’s old expression was coming back to haunt her, and despite the gloom outside the car window, she laughed. Hayden was right. She would eventually tell him what had happened to their beloved Marie.
Hayden was the rightful heir to the family business, just as she had been her father’s. And like hers, his education concerning the family business had started early. Hopefully, though, they would have more time together than she and her father had shared before circumstances stole him from her life. Hayden was eleven, but having been raised around adults, he was precocious and highly intelligent. He needed to learn what happened to those who hurt vulnerable innocents, especially when their name was Casey.
Chapter Two
Two months had passed since Marie’s funeral, and summer had faded like the fallen magnolia blossoms into an early winter in the city along the Mississippi River. Life had slowly returned to normal. School helped Hayden with his grief, and work helped Cain do the same. Over dinner one night, when he brought the subject up again, she told him what had happened to Marie and to the man who had taken her from them.
At first she didn’t know how to react to the grim face Hayden wore throughout her story, but all he wanted to know was if the guy was dead. She nodded, which he mirrored, and no other questions were necessary between them. It was the last time they had spoken of it, and she hoped the story had helped relieve his share of nightmares.
She thought of that night often, realizing Hayden had picked up on more than even she could imagine. Never evasive, she had wanted more time for him to enjoy being a child before the realities of life consumed his days.
Maybe it was all the time she spent with him, answering all his questions with infinite patience, which helped him think beyond his eleven years. Or maybe it was his insatiable need to know and his consumption of books in search of answers and things to share with her. Whatever the reason, she had ended up with a son who would be a brilliant man when his time came, and the thought never failed to put a smile of pride on her face.
Setting her coffee cup down, she put aw
ay her personal thoughts, got up from the table, and donned her jacket, signaling her shadows that she was ready to head to work. The car idled a few feet from the front door, ready for the trip to her office in a local warehouse.
She owned two nightclubs, but spent most of her time in the building along the river her father had bought years before. The faded chipped paint on the outer walls gave no clue to the posh offices inside.
What she did have a clue about was where every FBI and other government agency wiretap and bugging device was located within the walls of her offices and complexes. She irritated the agents no end when she often smiled and waved to the cameras. By now they had to know that for every device they garnered to perform the constant surveillance, someone was always willing to sell better equipment to find the nasty little bugs.
Merrick, the woman next to her, was adjusting the shoulder holster under her jacket, making her chest thrust toward Cain. She was tall, slim, African American, and one of the most beautiful women Cain had ever come across.
In a hand-to-hand fight with her employer, Merrick would lose. Anyone else who suspected her of any type of weakness soon found she was three times as deadly as Cain, because her boss used more restraint before ending someone’s life. Usually Merrick didn’t want the hassle of talking when action was quicker and, in most cases, more efficient. She had worked her way up the ranks by taking orders and keeping the Caseys’ secrets until she was the one at Cain’s side.
