Beyond A Reasonable Doubt

by Linda S. Prather

  Harry picked up the pot and rummaged through the mess on the floor until he found the coffee. “Go ahead. Shift ended five minutes ago. You got any place to be, Jake?”

  Jake grinned, stooping to pick up a package of coffee filters. “Hot bed and warm wife, but she’s probably sleeping. Go take your shower.”

  Jenna returned thirty minutes later with a roll of medical tape and a towel around her neck. “Either of you two know how to fix a broken finger?”

  Jake examined the badly bent pinky. “I don’t think it’s broken, but it’s still gonna hurt like hell.”

  Jenna handed him the tape. “It already hurts like hell.” She stuffed one end of the towel in her mouth and held out her hand.

  “Close your eyes. They say it doesn’t hurt as bad if you can’t see it,” Jake said.

  He grabbed the finger and quickly popped it back in place then taped it to the two next to it.

  Jenna took the towel from her mouth and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I would say whoever told you that is a lying bastard.”

  She took a cup of coffee from Harry and sat down at the table, noticing for the first time the two had tried to clean the kitchen while she was gone. She motioned for Harry to sit across from her and took a sip from her cup, studying them. “Someone told me if I was looking for an honest cop, I should look at you two. Are you?”

  Jake laughed out loud. “Bad question to ask if we’re not. Who would tell you something like that?”

  “Someone who would know.” Jenna continued to assess them as she sipped her coffee. “For reasons you can see”—Jenna waved her hand at the mess in the living room—“I’m not a very trusting person right now, but I really do need help.” She glanced from one to the other. “And you two are all I’ve got right now. So, if you’re honest, I can use you. If you’re not, well”—she held up her right hand—“you might as well finish what William Elkins started.”

  The temperature in the room seemed to drop twenty degrees, and Jenna noticed a quick intake of breath from Jake.

  His voice came out harsh and strained. “If you’re going after former Judge William Elkins, you’ve got whatever you need from me.”

  Harry Redmond nodded. “You already know he’s not one of my favorite people. Tell us what you know and what you want us to do.”

  Jenna spent the next hour filling them in on what Jordan had told her, including the fact he thought William Elkins had killed his mother. Her voice tapered off as the day’s events washed over her. “I don’t know anything more about the cover-up of the Atlanta shooting than Captain Taylor told me. Someone very powerful shut it down quick.” She stood up. “I really need to get to the hospital now. The torn-up house probably bought me a little time, but it’s going to look suspicious if I don’t show up there soon.”

  “Harry, why don’t you take me home, and then you can drop Jenna off at the hospital. We’ll need to get together tomorrow to sketch out a plan. Elkins is crafty. He gets a whiff of what’s going on, we’ll all be in a meat locker before we know it. We can call in an all clear on the burglary, and we should be safe for the time being—unless, of course, you’re being watched.”

  Jenna shook her head. “I don’t think so. At least not yet. Elkins said he was able to stave off the feds from questioning me. Maybe he thinks he has enough pull to shut down the Atlanta story. Or maybe he doesn’t know about the dead agents. But I do. I can’t see the FBI taking that lightly.”

  “Odds are they weren’t real agents,” Jake said.

  She watched as Harry and Jake exchanged a look she didn’t quite understand. “That’s the thing that keeps niggling at the back of my mind. I’m pretty sure they were.” She glanced down at the cutoffs and T-shirt she’d pulled on after her shower. “Give me five minutes to change, and I’ll be ready.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Jenna waited until Harry pulled back onto the highway from dropping off Jake before she started asking questions. Clearly, Harry was the weaker link where she was concerned. She’d forgotten how cute he was, and something in the darkness of his eyes made her shiver in a good way. “Tell me about your partner. He hates Elkins more than I do.”

  Harry turned onto the main highway, heading for the hospital. “Jake’s father was a cop. A good cop. When Jake was eight, he and his mother were kidnapped. They held them hostage for days, the kidnapper slowly beating his mother to death. She must have known she was close to dying because one night, she attacked the man and made Jake run for help. He did, but it was too late for his mother. They found her body the next day.

  “Jake’s father got a note a few days later that said, ‘Just a little reminder of what happens to the people who cross me.’ He blew his brains out.”

  Jenna held up her right hand. “That’s what Elkins said to me when he did this.”

  Harry continued. “They caught the guy, and Jake made a positive ID. Elkins turned him loose because the DNA at the scene didn’t match the killer. Said Jake was too young to testify and must have been mistaken. He’s been waiting twenty-eight years to find a way to take Elkins down. Trust me, Jenna, if you get evidence on Elkins, we’ll gladly put him away.”

  Harry pulled up in front of the hospital. “You gonna be okay in there? If everything Jordan Elkins told you is true, your boyfriend isn’t exactly innocent. And if Elkins isn’t behind making the Atlanta story go away, you could be in real danger.”

  “There was a point in our relationship when I thought I was falling in love with Michael Elkins. I realize now it was just infatuation. I got caught up in the glamour of being wined and dined by the most eligible bachelor in Texas. Funny, right?”

  Harry shook his head. “Not to me.”

  Jenna met his gaze, a warm feeling spreading through her. Why couldn’t I have fallen in love with a good guy? “When I was a little girl, I used to watch movies with my mother and dream of the day when I could be an actress. I wanted to dress up and play a different part every day. I would practice in my room, saying the lines, watching my face in the mirror so I got the emotion of the part just right.

  “After my parents were killed, my whole world changed. I only wanted to put the bad guys away.” She opened her door, climbed out, and leaned back in. “Now, I’m going to get the best of both worlds. A starring role and putting the bad guys away. Trust me, Harry, I’ll be fine.”

  Jenna took a deep breath before entering the room. She’d known for weeks that her relationship with Michael was slowly dying. The changes she’d seen in him the day before had been slipping through the cracks of his demeanor a little more each day. She knew he represented some clients that were guilty. She’d respected that at first because even the guilty deserved the very best defense available. It was her job to tear down that defense if the evidence pointed to a guilty verdict. Ever since he’d decided to run for judge, he’d been pushing her to seek the DA appointment. He’d become almost obsessed with the idea. Why? If he was going to be a judge, she couldn’t practice in front of him. Sighing, she realized she was too tired to think about it. She needed to pay a visit, act normal, and then go home and sleep.

  She opened the door to the room quietly, just in case he was asleep. She actually hoped he was.

  Stepping into the room, she approached the bed, her gaze glued to his face. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was slow and even. A cough from the shadows caught her attention. Startled, she turned quickly, seeking out a face.

  “Miss James, I presume?”

  “I am. Who are you?”

  He stood, reaching inside his jacket pocket to retrieve a badge. “Agent Carl Starks, with the FBI. I have a few questions for you.”

  Jenna glanced at the still-sleeping figure. “I don’t think this is a good place to talk.”

  Agent Starks smiled at her. “Let me buy you a cup of coffee.”

  Jenna followed him down the hall to the nurse’s station, where he secured both a pot of coffee and a private room.

  Jenna shivered as she glanced
around the tiny room containing nothing but a couch, a chair, and a coffee table. It reminded her of the room the doctors had taken her on the night her parents had been killed.

  “Please, have a seat, Miss James.”

  Jenna shook off the memories of her parents and took the opportunity to study the huge black man as he set up cups and poured the coffee. His hands were as huge as Beaumont’s, but his nails were tapered and clean. The light-grey suit was crisp, as if he’d donned it right before coming to the hospital. He seemed perfectly at ease with his surroundings, which made her nervous. She’d worked with agents before on cases—young agents gung-ho to catch the bad guy. Starks looked to be in his midfifties and probably close to retirement. “Seasoned” was the word that popped into her head.

  He poured her coffee and passed it over. “You look tired. We can do this later if you’d like.”

  Jenna knew her face showed her surprise. “I am tired, Agent Starks. Tired of powerful people pushing me around and lying to me. I was expecting you, or someone like you, until a police chief told me the case in Atlanta had been closed—closed, just like that. So why don’t you tell me what you want and why you were sitting in Michael’s room, waiting for me?”

  He poured another cup of coffee, sipped it slowly, and sat down across from her. “How well do you really know Michael Elkins?”

  “Michael? I thought you were here to talk about...” Her voice trailed off, a feeling of impending danger settling over her. Everything about the Atlanta shooting was outside the norm. She needed to watch her step and her words.

  “About Atlanta?” Starks asked casually.

  “About Jordan Elkins and Atlanta.”

  “I’m not interested in Jordan Elkins. At least not at the moment. As far as Atlanta is concerned, someone asked us to delay a few things. We chose to go along with that request, and we chose to cover up the mess, for reasons of our own. Right before Agents Simms and Treadmore headed to Atlanta, they got a call from Michael Elkins. They weren’t supposed to be there and definitely were not on bureau business.”

  “You cover up a shooting and the death of two federal agents, and you expect me to trust you?” Jenna set her coffee on the table and stood up. “I don’t trust anyone right now—least of all law enforcement.”

  “Please, sit down, Miss James. Perhaps after you’ve heard what I have to say, you’ll change your mind. At least, I hope you do.”

  Jenna sat and picked up her coffee. “I wouldn’t count on that. You might as well go ahead and kill me because that will be Judge Elkins’s next request.”

  Agent Starks nodded. “You’re probably right. It just so happens Elkins picked one of the wrong agents to trust.”

  Jenna met his gaze. “You?”

  He nodded. “William Elkins is a small fish in a great big pond of larger fish. If he doesn’t get eaten first, he will eventually give me the information I need to clean our own house as well as drain the pond.”

  Jenna sipped her coffee. The information sounded genuine. The feds often allowed the lesser criminals to walk around, just for a chance at the guy at the top. Most of the time, that ended in disaster. “I think William Elkins killed his wife. Are you telling me to back off?”

  “Would you if I asked you to?”

  Jenna straightened her back and met his dark gaze. Looking into his eyes made her shiver. He was a cobra, on edge and ready to strike. “No, I wouldn’t.”

  Starks relaxed and sat back in his chair. “In that case, I won’t ask. Is there anything else you want to know?”

  “What about the shooter? I mean, he had to know he couldn’t get out of there—that it would be suicide by airport security. Why would someone do that?”

  “The shooter was a real nasty guy named Denver Madison. I’m sure you remember him. Marcus Dade represented him about five years ago. He was on trial for killing four young women. You were the prosecutor, and William Elkins was the judge.”

  Jenna’s eyes widened. “That was Madison? But he was killed right after he was released. His car blew up.”

  Starks nodded. “If you remember, the body was burned beyond recognition. Looks like he owed someone a pretty big favor.”

  Jenna’s gaze fell to her taped fingers. “Just a little reminder of what happens to people who cross me.”

  She’d learned more in the past five minutes than in the past three days. There was something about Agent Starks she liked, but something also terrified her—a gnawing gut pain deep inside that said, Keep your guard up. “I don’t really know anything about that.”

  Agent Starks leaned across the small table and refilled her cup. “I didn’t think you did. So tell me what happened while you were with Simms and Treadmore.”

  Jenna shrugged. “They asked us questions about the shooter. If we really thought he was trying to kill us. If we knew him.”

  “Did you think he was trying to kill you?”

  “I didn’t have any clue who he was, and I didn’t know if he was trying to kill us or not. Jordan thought he was—one of us anyway. Now that I know who he was, probably both of us. Then they told us he shot several other people and we weren’t really the target, just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  Starks nodded. “He did shoot four other people. All flesh wounds. Anything else?”

  “They told me I could leave, but Jordan had been released into my custody, and I couldn’t do that.”

  That seemed to surprise him, and he leaned back, mouth pursed, fingers steepled and tapping together slowly. “What happened when they escorted you out?”

  “Jordan knocked me out. I don’t know anything else.”

  He smiled softly. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.” He stood up and retrieved a card from his pocket. He glanced at her right hand. “But I do understand your mistrust and your situation.” He handed her the card. “You don’t strike me as the type of person to be fooled easily, Miss James. Nor the type to be scared off a case if you think someone’s guilty. You’re not alone, you know. Call me if you need me.”

  “If you’re telling the truth, Agent Starks, you’re playing a dangerous game. We both know there are members of your agency on the payroll of others. Aren’t you afraid one of them will find out about you?”

  “There’s always that danger, of course, but if everything goes the way we plan, then we’ll find them too.”

  Jenna stood up. “There will always be more. Someone willing to do anything they ask. So why are you doing this?”

  His eyes darkened for a moment, and then he smiled. “The same reason you prosecute the bad guys. You’re a damn good lawyer. You could make more money, but then you might find yourself in a position of having to defend one of them. You couldn’t do that any more than I can walk away from this. I do what I do for people like you. If it weren’t for dirty cops, people like William Elkins would have been stopped a long time ago. Take care, Miss James, and don’t trust anyone.” His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkened. “Even me.”

  Jenna watched the door close behind him and sank back onto the couch. The FBI was looking for something, something bigger than Elkins. Starks was right—she couldn’t trust anyone, especially him. Not only was he seasoned, he was playing both sides, and she had a feeling he’d do whatever it took to finish the job. Elkins wasn’t the only small fish in a big pond. So was she.

  Jenna glanced at her taped fingers. She’d stop by the emergency room and then catch a cab. She really did want to curl up and go to sleep and forget about the Elkinses of the world. Her head was spinning from everything she’d learned as she pondered the information Agent Starks had given her. She’d assumed Judge Elkins had ordered the hit. She’d been wrong. What else had she been wrong about?

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Jenna woke to the sound of banging on her door and her phone shrilling. “What now?”

  Tossing back the covers, she glanced at the phone, noted it was David, and ignored it. The way her luck was going, he probably wanted to tell her she’d gone
from “vacation time” to “fired.” She grabbed a robe, stumbled down the stairs, yanked open the door, and barked, “What?”

  Jake Savior grinned at her and pushed his way inside. “I thought prosecutors were morning people. Another myth down the drain.”

  Jenna ran a hand through her hair and glanced at Harry, who followed Jake in, although somewhat more slowly. “Sorry we woke you, but it is almost four in the afternoon, and we’ve only got a couple of hours before we have to report to work.”

  Jake headed for the kitchen and started the coffee. “What’s for breakfast? I’m starved.”

  Harry gave her a lopsided smile. “He’s incorrigible most days and totally impossible on others.”

  “Just make yourselves at home, and let me get dressed.”

  Jenna dressed quickly, the memory of the early morning meeting with Agent Starks running through her mind. He’d told her to trust no one, but surely that didn’t include Harry and Jake. Sighing, she grabbed the notes Jordan had made on his mother’s beatings. She had to trust someone, and it would be easier for Jake and Harry to track down a doctor or nurse who might be willing to talk. Jordan had told her he would call occasionally. She’d like to be able to report at least a start on the case before he did that.

  The smell of frying bacon caused her stomach to rumble, reminding her she hadn’t eaten in at least a day. She entered the kitchen, a smile on her face. Harry was dropping bread into the toaster, and Jake was whistling a snappy tune as he turned the bacon. They looked right at home. “Maybe I should hire you two.”

  Harry popped the toast from the toaster, buttered it, and tossed it onto a plate. “Jake does bacon; I do toast. That’s about the extent of our cooking expertise.”