“Damn it.” She glanced at the clock again—eleven fifteen. Harry and Jake weren’t coming. She made her way back to the kitchen and took the roast from the oven. Tom was out there somewhere in the darkness. She opened the back door and stared into the line of trees that bordered her property in the back. Her grandparents had bought the only house in the neighborhood with land all the way around it. Until that moment, she’d loved the seclusion it gave her. Maybe neighbors wouldn’t be so bad after all. “Tom, they’re not coming. You might as well come on in.” Leaving the door open, she went back to the kitchen and filled two plates with food. She pulled a beer from the refrigerator and set it next to his plate, poured herself a glass of milk, and sat down.
She heard the back door close a few seconds before Tom walked into the kitchen. She nodded toward the plate. “Might as well eat. The doctor will be here by midnight.”
Tom sat down, popped the top on his beer, and said, “Good” around a bite of roast.
Jenna wasn’t sure if he meant the roast or the fact the doctor would be there at midnight. They ate in silence as the kitchen clock ticked away until on the stroke of midnight, a knock sounded on the front door.
Tom pulled a gun from his waistband and pointed it toward the door. “Best you get it.”
Jenna wiped her mouth, tossed the napkin on the table, and called out. “Who is it?”
A muffled voice came through the door. “Mr. Beaumont sent me.”
Jenna eyed the gun. “Don’t you think you should put that thing away?”
Tom stood up and placed the gun back in his waistband. “Can’t be too careful, Miss James.” He headed for the front door. “Might be a good thing if you don’t see the doctor. Could cloud your judgment someday.”
Jenna stayed seated at the table until she heard the car drive away. She picked up the plates, dumped them in the sink, and turned off the light. Her judgment was already clouded. She’d just shared a meal with a killer.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Jake dodged the fist aimed for his head, grabbed the arm, and twisted it behind its owner’s back hard and high as he grabbed the opposite shoulder and turned him around just in time to deflect a beer bottle flying through the air.
“You leave my husband alone!”
“Little help here, Harry.” Jake put a well-aimed knee to the back of the guy’s legs, bringing him to the floor as Harry wrestled with the wife. That was what he hated about domestic violence calls. They could beat each other to a pulp, but as soon as the cops arrived, they were all of a sudden best buddies, and the police were the bad guys.
“Stay down!” he warned the guy before pressing a knee into the middle of his back as he pulled out the cuffs and attached them. “Are you ready to behave, or do we need to go another round?”
The guy relaxed, and Jake pulled him to his feet and shoved him onto a couch.
Harry had finally subdued the wife and half walked, half carried her to the couch. “Sit down and shut up.”
“I’ll sue you. I’ll sue the whole damn police force.” She spat at him before turning to her husband. “Are you okay, honey? Did they hurt you?”
The husband glared at Jake but shook his head. “Take more than a wimp like him to hurt me, honey.”
Jake pulled up a chair across from them. “You two want to tell us what this was all about, or do we need to take you down to the station?”
The husband grinned at his wife. “Wasn’t nothing, was it pudding? Just a little love spat.”
The wife nodded. “Wasn’t nobody’s business either. Damn nosy neighbors.”
Jake shot Harry a glance. “What do you say, partner? You want to call it in?”
Harry walked to the couch and took off the handcuffs he’d placed on the wife, reached for Jake’s key, and removed the husband’s cuffs. “We’re going to let you two go this time. You need to keep it down. We have to come back, you’re both going to be spending some time behind bars.”
The two immediately started hugging and kissing, ignoring the officers. Jake nodded toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.”
Back inside the cruiser, Jake glanced into the backseat. “Probably should have took them in, but figured that was gonna be a little hard to explain.”
Harry followed his gaze and nodded. “About time we found out where it came from and who it belonged to.”
Jake pulled on his seatbelt. “Funeral home?”
Harry nodded, picked up the mike, and called the station to report an all clear on the domestic violence call. “What do you want to bet we’re not back here again before morning?”
Jake rubbed his shoulder. “The little guy is a hell of a lot stronger than he looks. Next time, I get the wife.”
Harry pulled up his sleeve to reveal a row of scratches. “Be my guest.”
Harry’s cell phone rang, and he pulled it from his pocket. “It’s Jenna.” He hit the speaker button. “Hello.”
“Hey, I was wondering if you guys were still coming by? If not, I’m going to bed.”
Harry glanced at Jake, who shook his head. “Go on to bed. We’ll come by tomorrow night.”
“Okay. I’m going to meet my friend at the courthouse tomorrow. Hopefully, he’ll be able to help us.”
“Sounds like a good idea. We’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Harry hit the End button before shoving the phone back in his pocket. “I know what you’re thinking, Jake, but I’m going to have to see it to believe it.” He started the cruiser and headed downtown toward the funeral home.
Jake kept his thoughts to himself. He liked Jenna James, but he’d seen too many crooked lawyers, judges, and politicians to have blind faith in anyone anymore. Harry pulled in behind the funeral home and parked. “Let’s go find us a body.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Jake popped the lock on the back door of the funeral home. “These things are always easy. They never expect anyone to want to break in here.”
“Easy to understand,” Harry said. “I hate these places.”
Jake grinned, exposing even, white teeth as he pulled out a flashlight and turned it on. “That why you’re whispering? Afraid of ghosts?”
Harry pulled his own flashlight and turned it on just as an owl screeched from a nearby tree. “It is not the shilup we have to worry about.” He pointed toward the owl. “It is the shilombish that lingers.”
Jake flashed his light around the room as they entered. The chemical scent of embalming fluid filled his nostrils. “What the hell is a shilup and a shilombish?”
Harry pointed his light toward the stairs. “The shilup is the inside shadow or ghost, as your culture calls them. Upon death, it goes to the land of ghosts.” He headed toward the stairs. “The shilombish is the outside shadow, the shadow that follows you around. It stays to wander, usually in its former home, but they can move to other places. They often imitate animals, an owl for instance or a fox. The screech of an owl at night is an omen of bad things to come.”
Jake knew Harry took his family heritage seriously. “Bad things have already come, and you guys have some strange customs. Let’s find our body and get the hell out of here.”
They moved quickly and quietly up the stairs, the aromatic smell of fresh flowers growing stronger with each step. “Our customs are no stranger than yours. You place flowers around your dead as a symbol of love, sympathy, and respect, a custom that started merely as a way to control the odor of the body’s decomposition,” Harry said.
Opening the door, he stepped into a hallway and flashed his light around. “This place is spooky as hell at night. Looks like we have three candidates. I’ll take door number one, and you can take door number two.”
Jake shot him a glare before moving toward the left. His nose was still hurting where Loki had head butted him, and the flowery sweet smell was becoming nauseating. The door sign said a Dorothy Chambers occupied the room. Right sex, but he was crossing his fingers it was the wrong room. He made his way slowly among the row
s of chairs to the front. The casket was closed. “Damn.” Setting the flashlight on a chair, he pushed the latch to open the casket. “Sorry, Dorothy.” Pulling it open, he looked inside and breathed a sigh of relief. Dorothy had all her hair. He closed the casket, picked up the flashlight, and moved back to the hallway just as Harry came out of the room on the right. “Any luck?”
“Nope. You?” Harry asked.
“Dorothy has a full head of hair, all still attached.” They both turned to stare at the remaining room. “Looks like it’s door number three,” Jake said.
They approached the room together, stopping to read the sign. “Josie Freeman,” Jake said, shining his light toward the front of the room and the closed casket. “Do they close all the caskets at night?”
“I think they close them all,” Harry said. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”
Harry held the lights while Jake flipped the latch and opened the casket. A long, black wig had twisted on the head, half on and half off. “Looks like we found our body. What do we do now?” Harry asked.
Jake reached for a flashlight. “Go get the box.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “You thinking what I think you’re thinking?”
“What else can we do? We can’t report it, and Ms. Freeman deserves to be buried with her own hair.” Jake grinned. “Besides, think of the undertaker’s face when he opens this casket in the morning and her hair is back in place.”
Harry slipped out the back door just as the owl screeched again. He searched the perimeter as the sensation of spider legs ran down his spine. He retrieved the box and returned just as Jake lifted the body and pulled off the black wig. “Put it on.”
Harry set the box down on the front row and backed up. “You do it.”
“Damn it, Harry. Get the scalp and put it on.” Jake cursed again.
Harry shook his head and backed up farther. The owl screeched again. “Toss it in the coffin, and let’s go. The dead are restless tonight.”
Jake lowered the body. “All right. I’ll meet you downstairs.” He arranged his flashlight so he could see and then picked up the box. He took out the scalp and lifted the body again, tugging the scalp back into place. He lowered the body and smoothed the hair around her face until it looked as natural as possible. “You look lovely, Ms. Freeman.”
He tossed the wig inside the box and reached for his flashlight. He had the strange urge to whistle. Why was it people always whistled when they were alone in a cemetery or a dark place? He fought the urge, picked up the box, and made his way back down the stairs and out the back door. He didn’t know what had gotten into Harry, but a chill was creeping slowly into his bones. The owl screeched yet again, and the chill deepened. Jake picked up his pace. He was pretty sure bad things were coming… and coming fast.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Jenna searched the bottom of her closet, pulling out shoes with broken heels, puncture holes, and knife slashes. Damn Elkins to hell. Reaching way into the back, she pulled out a pair of black pumps. Replacing all the things Elkins had destroyed would take her years. Half her day had been taken up with getting a new license. She’d have to go shopping for clothes before she went back to work.
Pulling on the pumps, she stood and studied her reflection in her mirror. The suit was more than five years old, but fortunately it still fit. She grabbed her purse and sprinted down the stairs. Maybe she should have taken Beaumont up on his offer. She’d discuss it with David once the Elkinses were behind bars.
Jenna opened the garage and climbed behind the wheel of her grandfather’s old Chevy truck. She should probably sell it and buy a car, but driving it always made her feel close to him.
The federal courthouse was just starting to shut down as she parked in the employee parking lot. She grinned at the guard and raced up the steps two at a time. She’d planned on getting there just a few minutes before closing, but she’d almost cut it too short. Friday was always the day everyone rushed to get out. She was stopped at the door by the guard.
“Hey, Alfred, can I please come in? I just need to see Ben Andrews for a second, and then I’ll be out of here. I promise.”
Alfred Wagner had been the door guard for as long as Jenna could remember. She watched as he glanced at the roster. “He’s still on the second floor. You gotta make it quick, though.”
Jenna gave him a hug and raced for the stairs, not wanting to waste time on the elevator, which never worked correctly anyway. “Thank you, Alfred. I promise, just a minute.”
Out of breath, she paused at the top of the stairs. Ben should be in Judge Clinton’s chambers. She glanced down the hall just as he exited and headed in the opposite direction.
“Ben, wait!”
“Jenna? What are you doing here?” He stopped and waited for her.
“I need your help on something.”
Ben gave her a suspicious look. “You know I can’t discuss the current cases with you, Jenna.”
Jenna leaned over, holding her right side and catching her breath. Sprinting to the courthouse and then up the stairs had proven she was definitely out of shape.
“Not anything current. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”
“How about a steak, salad, and glass of wine? Except for minor glimpses in the courtroom, I haven’t seen you in years. I’d love to catch up,” Ben said.
Placing her arm in his, she smiled up at him. “Dinner it is, then.”
Jenna waited until Ben had finished his steak and two glasses of wine before approaching the subject that had brought her there. She needed to do it quickly, before the guilt she was feeling made her change her mind. She’d been out of touch with Ben for years, as she was with the rest of her friends from law school. If she made it out of this alive, she was going to change that.
“Ben, you worked at the courthouse when William Elkins was on the bench, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “Unfortunately. He was a real jerk.”
Good. If Ben didn’t like him, it would be easier to convince him to help her. “What would it take to pull together a list of cases he dismissed in the last five years?”
Ben studied her over the rim of his glass. “What are you up to, Jenna?”
She shrugged. “I have a witness that told me some things. I’d just like to review the cases. Would it take you very long to pull something like that together?”
“It would take a while, unless you could narrow it down some. Elkins dismissed a lot of cases for a lot of reasons.”
Jenna toyed with her salad, feeling his eyes homed in on her face. She’d hoped not to divulge too much. The more he knew, the more danger he would be in. “What about just the ones involving high-profile criminals represented by Marcus Dade’s firm?”
Ben whistled softly. “Damn it, Jenna. What do you think you’re doing? Most of those cases were dismissed because witnesses disappeared. Do you want to be next?”
“I know the danger, Ben, but I really need those files if I’m going to verify my informant’s information. Can you do it?” A feeling of foreboding started in her stomach, working its way upward. “Can you do it without getting in trouble or getting caught? Because if you can’t, then I don’t want you to.”
Ben finished his glass of wine and stood up. “You helped me when no one else would. Without your constant prodding, I’d have never made it through law school. I’ll do it tonight and have something for you by tomorrow.”
Jenna watched him walk away, the feeling of foreboding spreading through her chest.
~ ~ ~
Elkins stared at his oldest son. “What are you doing to find that lockbox?”
Michael poured a glass of scotch. “I’ve scoured just about every bank in town. There’s no lockbox in her name. I even checked under Jordan’s name.”
“Lousy bitch. You realize if we don’t find it, I’m broke. Everything I’ve worked for… gone, just like that. How much help do you think we’re gonna get from Marcus Dade then? Bastard’s got no loyalty.” He crossed the roo
m and flopped into the desk chair. “Pour me a drink.”
Michael poured a second glass of scotch and topped his off. “We’ll find it, Dad. And we’ll find Jordan. I don’t intend to live the rest of my life as a pauper.”
The phone rang, and Elkins reached for it. “Hello?”
“Judge Elkins?”
He waved for Michael to come closer and reached for the drink. “Yes, this is William Elkins.”
“Corey Masters, sir. Just wanted you to know that line you set up to monitor anyone accessing your old files just triggered. Somebody is there now pulling records from the database.”
“Do you know who it is?”
“Clerk named Ben Andrews, sir.”
Elkins took a drink of scotch. “Thank you, son. I’ll see you get a nice bonus check at the end of the year.”
He hung up the phone, downed the rest of the scotch, and stood up. “You worthless piece of shit. You told me you took care of James. She’s got her buddy Ben Andrews pulling my old files.” He grabbed his cane and swung it at Michael’s head, barely missing. “Do you know what that means? Do you?”
“I can’t take care of everything, Dad. You’ve got me out searching banks, looking for Jordan, and cleaning up your messes. I’ll take care of Jenna in my own damn time.”
The cane came down hard on his shoulder as Elkins screamed in rage. “Don’t you sass me, boy. You take care of her now, or by hell I’ll take care of you.”
Michael turned, grabbed the cane from his father, and raised it. Satisfaction coursed through him as the old man backed up, his eyes filled with fear. “Don’t ever hit me again. I’ll take care of Andrews, and then I’ll take care of Jenna. Hit me again, and I’ll take care of you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Michael pulled into the alley leading to the courthouse. From there, he could see the back door and be out of line of the cameras. Of course, the possibility existed that Andrews would go out the front, but he doubted it. He laughed softly as he screwed the silencer onto the pistol. Sneaky people did sneaky things, and they always used the back door.
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