Beyond A Reasonable Doubt

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Beyond A Reasonable Doubt Page 11

by Linda S. Prather


  He glanced at the dashboard clock. He’d learned something that night, something vital to his future. He no longer had to live in fear. The look in the old man’s eyes when he’d raised the cane had proven that. Honorable William Elkins was afraid of him. God, what a rush. Just thinking about it was giving him a hard-on, and once he finished there, he knew just where to use it. Before that night was over, Jenna James would be complacent and compliant, or she’d be dead. Either way, he would win. He’d read something about domination recently. He liked the idea of whipping her into submission, making her crawl to him, begging him for it. That’s what had attracted him to her to start with. She was too strong, too independent. She needed a strong man to break her. If he was lucky, doing so would take a while. He wanted her to fight, and she would. They all did in the beginning, afraid to admit the truth. They all liked it rough, and they all liked being dominated. He chuckled, thinking of Jenna. Sometimes, they just had to learn they liked it.

  The back door to the courthouse opened, and he sat up straight. It must be his lucky night. Opening the door quietly, he climbed out of the car, making sure to stay in the shadows. “Ben Andrews?”

  Andrews stared across the lot toward the alley. “Who’s there?”

  “Hey, Ben, it’s me, Michael Elkins. I twisted my ankle, and my car is parked around front. Could you give me a hand?”

  Andrews walked toward him. “Sure, Mr. Elkins. How did you wind up in the alley?”

  Michael kept the gun close to his side, out of sight. A little closer, that’s all he needed. “Believe it or not, I dropped a file, and papers flew all over the place.”

  Andrews laughed. “I’ve done that myself. Let me help you to your car, and I’ll come back and make sure we got all of them.”

  Michael felt his mouth watering in anticipation. Just five more feet. Andrews’s face appeared in the alley just as Michael raised the gun. “You should have minded your own business, Ben.” He fired, the bullet striking below the left shoulder. “Bull’s-eye.” Just to be sure, he fired again as the body spun around. All that time spent at the firing range hadn’t been a total waste after all.

  Michael scanned the parking lot before stepping out of the alley and retrieving the envelope Andrews had been carrying. He knelt beside the body and felt for a pulse. Finding none, he moved quickly back to his car, climbed in, and backed out of the alley. He’d lived in the shadows of the old man’s power for years. Not anymore. People had only the power you gave them. He chuckled again as he headed toward Jenna’s house. He wasn’t giving anymore. He was in charge now. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to take it.

  ~ ~ ~

  Jenna heard pounding on her door, grabbed her notes, and skipped down the steps. She found herself actually looking forward to these sessions. She’d been disappointed when Jake and Harry hadn’t shown up the night before. She was going to miss them when she went back to work. She opened the door, her smile freezing on her face. “Michael, what are you doing here?”

  He gave her that slow, sexy smile, the one that used to melt her heart, which was pounding faster, but not from desire.

  “Can I come in?”

  Jenna recovered quickly. She could let him in and pretend nothing was wrong, or she could stand up to him. The fact she knew Harry and Jake would be there any minute made her braver. Opening the door wider, she let him in and waved her hand around the living room. “Thanks to your father, there’s really no place to sit yet unless you want to go to the kitchen.”

  Michael reached for her right hand and gently touched the taped fingers. “My father told me what he did, Jenna. If you’ll let me, I’ll make it right. We’ll refurnish all of this.” He moved in closer. “Or maybe you could just move in with me.”

  Jenna pulled her hand away. “Your father destroyed my home, broke my finger, and threatened me. But even worse than that, you lied to me, Michael. Jordan told me everything. Your father has been beating your mother for years… and you knew it all along.”

  He touched her face softly. “I know you probably won’t believe this, but I do care about you. I did lie, Jenna. I did what I had to do, and if it makes any difference to you, my father didn’t kill my mother. It was an accident.” He let his hand fall when she pulled away again.

  “Then why didn’t you just let things take their course in Kentucky? Why all the deceit?”

  Michael shoved his hands into his pockets. “Because he’s losing his mind, Jenna. When he heard you had gotten Jordan out of prison, he went crazy. I thought I could control him, but I can’t.”

  “Why does he hate Jordan so much? I read his file. There’s no way he should have gotten that sentence.”

  Michael turned his back on her and walked to a window. “Jordan isn’t Dad’s child. My mother had an affair. He’s my half-brother.” He turned to face her, his eyes dark and cold. “Jordan doesn’t even know. I’m the one that had to live with that knowledge every day of my life. The judge never let me forget, and she never let me forget who her favorite was.”

  He took a step toward her. “You were the best thing that ever happened to me. You made me realize there was good in the world—just how wrong my father was, how corrupt he is. We could stop him, start over. I want to get Jordan out of prison. He doesn’t belong there. I want to be a real family.”

  He took another step toward her, and she bit her lip, standing her ground. Jordan had said his mother had proof of his father’s crimes. If she could get inside the house, maybe she could find it and end this mess before anyone else got hurt. “I’ve always wanted to see your home. I hear it’s very beautiful.”

  Michael took the last few steps to bring himself to her, lowered his head, and kissed her softly. “Why don’t you come to dinner tomorrow night? I’ll make sure my father is gone. We’ll have the place all to ourselves. Make-up sex is always great. We could start now.”

  She shuddered, the urge to wipe her mouth and slap his face overwhelming. She glanced at the clock. Harry and Jake were late, but they could arrive any minute. “I’m still feeling sort of tired, and you should rest too. Why don’t you call me in the morning, and we’ll talk about it?”

  The change in his features, tightening of his lips, and setting of his jaw pushed her back a step, but he grabbed her, pulling her into his arms. He kissed her again, this time his lips more possessive, hard and brutal. She struggled slightly, but that seemed to only excite him more as he pulled her hips in close and ground his groin against her. “You’re mine, Jenna. I tried being nice. I wanted to give you some time to get used to the way it was going to be. It’s time you learned your place.” He pulled back from her and looked deep into her eyes. “Either way, you’re going to be mine.”

  She pushed against his chest. “You bastard! Let go of me!”

  He laughed, dragging her across the room with him as he turned off the light. “I should have done this a long time ago.”

  Jenna realized his intentions too late, and her struggles became more violent as he pushed her to the floor, ripping off her clothes. He slapped her hard before pinning her hands beneath her body as he undid his belt and trousers. “Fight me, honey. I like it that way.”

  Her ears were ringing from the force of the slap, but she stopped struggling and relaxed, her mind homing in on the memories of rape victims she’d counseled, the ones she’d badgered into testifying. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as he brutalized her body, his grunts a sound she knew would haunt her for years to come. Violated. That’s what they’d all told her. They felt violated physically, mentally, and emotionally. She dug deep, clinging to statistics. One-point-three women over the age of eighteen were forcibly raped each minute. Seventy-eight per hour. Six hundred and eighty-three thousand per year. That’s all she’d seen before: statistics. And even those were wrong. Most women were too scared or too horrified to report the incident.

  She heard whimpers and realized only when he rolled off her that they were coming from her—such tiny little sounds. Had the vic
tims she’d bullied whimpered like this? Had they kept their eyes tightly shut as she had? Afraid. Helpless. Numb.

  She lay perfectly still as he dressed.

  “Your buddy Ben didn’t make it, Jenna. Unless you want to join him, you’ll do what I tell you to do.”

  He let himself out the front door. Only after she heard his car back out of the driveway and accelerate did she move.

  Rolling over, she vomited until nothing was left but dry heaves.

  Crawling to the stairs, she pulled herself up, one step at a time, until she reached the top landing and her bathroom.

  She climbed into the tub and turned on the hot water and scrubbed until her skin was red and raw.

  Harry slowed as he neared Jenna’s house. A red Ferrari was backing out of the driveway, and all lights in the house were off. He recognized the car from all the nights he’d seen it there before. Michael Elkins. His foot pressed down hard on the accelerator, and he sped past.

  Jake lit a cigarette and rolled down his window. “Sorry, partner. Guess we know where our leak is.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Marcus Dade sat back in his chair and clipped off the end of a cigar before lighting it, taking a deep draw and exhaling slowly. He’d listened to the rape with some amusement. He’d been vaguely disappointed. Jenna James had a lot of spunk in the courtroom, but when faced with an animal like Michael Elkins, she’d done just what every other victim always did—cried like a baby. Disappointing and a shame. If she’d blown the bastard away, it would have solved at least one of his problems. Savior was a hothead. Maybe he could still accomplish that.

  Picking up the phone, he dialed Gregory’s number. “You close?”

  “I can be there in five minutes.”

  “Got an untraceable cell on you?”

  Gregory laughed. “Don’t I always?”

  “Let yourself in. I’m in the office.”

  He took a sheet of paper and wrote out the script he wanted Gregory to read, picked up the phone, and dialed a well-known number.

  “Police department.”

  “I need a number.”

  The voice changed perceptibly, lowering in tone. “Who?”

  “Harry Redmond’s cell phone.”

  “Give me a minute, and I’ll call you back.”

  The phone rang less than a minute later, and Marcus wrote down the number just as Gregory walked in. “Thanks, I owe you one.”

  Hanging up the phone, he handed the number and the script to Gregory and took a slow drag on the cigar. “Call that number, and read exactly what I’ve written.”

  Gregory read over the script, raised an eyebrow, and whistled. “Sure you don’t want me to just off the bastard?”

  Marcus laughed. “I may need a favor someday from Mr. Redmond or Miss James.”

  Gregory pulled out the cell phone and dialed the number. “You’re the boss.”

  Harry slowed down and pulled over, reaching over the visor to retrieve his ringing cell. “Hello.”

  “Harry Redmond?”

  “Yeah, who’s this?”

  “A friend. Shame you were late getting to your girlfriend’s house tonight.”

  Harry felt a chill start at the base of his spine and move upward. “Who is this?”

  “I told you—just a friend. If I were you, I’d turn around and go back. I’ve often heard rape victims get suicidal shortly after the attack, especially when the attack comes from someone they trust. Looks like both the Elkinses are women haters. Oh, and Redmond, you owe me one.”

  The line went dead, and Harry dropped the phone, pulled the car into gear, and spun around in the middle of the highway.

  Jake grabbed for the door, holding on. “What was that all about?”

  Harry floored it, turning on the lights to move cars out of his way. “We don’t have a leak. Jenna’s house is bugged, and Elkins just raped her.”

  Jake rummaged through the glove compartment and pulled out a bug detector. “You take care of JJ; I’ll take care of the bug.”

  Harry nodded, flipping off the lights and siren as they approached her road. Pulling into the driveway, he braked, turned off the ignition, and jumped out of the car, Jake close on his heels. He banged on the door. “Jenna!”

  The house was deathly quiet, and he turned the knob, surprised to find it unlocked. Pulling his gun, he motioned for Jake to take the right. They entered slowly, and Harry called out again. “Jenna!”

  “Up here.”

  Her voice was strained, and Harry holstered his pistol and headed for the stairs. Jake flipped on the light, turned on the bug detector, and went to work.

  Harry stopped at the top of the stairs and turned on the hall light. He saw her then, naked and huddled on the bathroom floor, her knees pulled up to her chest as she rocked slowly back and forth. He approached her slowly, taking the robe from the back of the door. “Here, let me help you.”

  Jenna stopped rocking, allowing him to pull her to her feet and wrap the robe around her. He was careful not to touch her. “Is there someone I can call?”

  She lifted tear-filled eyes and shook her head. “I don’t have anyone.” Her voice caught on a sob. “Except you.”

  Harry pulled her into his arms, his hands rubbing her still-dripping curls as she sobbed into his chest. He was gonna kill Elkins… slowly, one drop of blood at a time.

  Jake came up the stairs, glanced into the bathroom, and continued on down the hall. He came back a minute later. “One in the living room lamp and one in the coffeemaker. They’ve been listening to every word we said. Want me to call this in?”

  Jenna caught her breath on a sob and pushed out of Harry’s arms. “No.”

  Harry eased away from her slowly. “Jake, why don’t you make us a pot of coffee and some of that bacon you’re so good at.”

  Jake took the hint and headed downstairs.

  “You can’t let him get away with this, Jenna. You have to report it.”

  “I can’t, Harry. If I report this, we’ll all be tied up for days or weeks, maybe months. Besides, we’ve been dating for months. Would anyone believe me?”

  His cell phone rang, and he glanced at the number. Loki. “All right, don’t report it. Get angry, Jenna. Use it against him. Let’s find the evidence and take all these bastards down.” The phone rang again. “I need to take this.”

  Jenna nodded. “Let me get dressed. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  He answered the phone. “Hello.”

  “Something spooked the undertaker, and he’s making a run for it. Followed him to a house down in the panhandle. Looks like he’s got another woman. Want us to stay with it?”

  “No, back off. I’ll drop by your office tomorrow afternoon and settle up.”

  “Stay cool, cuz. You need us, we’ll be around.”

  “Watch your back, Loki.”

  Harry closed the phone and glanced at the bedroom door before he made his way downstairs to the kitchen. She probably needed some time alone. Jake was busy making toast and flipping bacon. “Loki says our guy made a run for it. Mistress down in the panhandle.”

  Jake poured three cups of coffee and nodded toward the stairs. “She gonna be okay?”

  Harry flopped into a chair just as Jenna descended the stairs and answered Jake’s question. “Badly bent but not broken. I need you to check something for me. My friend, Ben Andrews. Michael said he didn’t make it. I think he killed him.”

  Jake turned off the stove. “I’ll check it out.”

  Jenna’s gaze fell on the wires on the counter. “What are those?”

  Jake picked them up. “Bugs. Somebody has been listening to everything we’ve said, everything we’ve planned. That’s how we knew what had happened to you. They called Harry. Sit down and drink your coffee. I’ll check on your friend, come back, and fix you a plate.”

  Jenna sat down next to Harry. “Someone heard all that?”

  Harry nodded, placing his hand over hers. “We came by earlier, but Elkins was leaving, and
your lights were off. We didn’t stop.”

  Jenna’s face colored, her eyes darkening. “Someone heard me get raped, and they waited until it was all over to call you?” She stood up, grabbing the wires, and dropped them on the floor, where she stomped them with her bare feet. “What kind of sick bastard does that?”

  Jake picked up the wires and headed for the front door to check on Andrews. “The kind that thinks you now owe him a favor. My bet would be on Marcus Dade.”

  Jenna flopped back in the chair and winced. “Well, then let’s make sure he gets paid in full. I want them. All of them.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Jake returned a few minutes later. “They found him a few minutes ago on the edge of the courthouse parking lot. He’d been shot twice. The first bullet went straight through the heart. He probably died instantly.”

  Jenna felt as if her body were being pummeled by each word. Found. Shot. Died instantly. “I killed him,” she whispered.

  Harry motioned for Jake to refill the coffee cups and scooted his chair closer to her. “You didn’t kill him, Jenna. Michael Elkins did—or somebody he hired to do his dirty work. Help us, and we’ll find the proof, and we’ll make sure they never hurt anyone again.”

  Jenna shook her head. “It’s no use. Look at us; we’ve been at this a week, and we don’t know anything. We don’t have one shred of evidence we can use against any of them.”

  Jake placed the coffee in front of her. “Elkins has had years to hide evidence, get rid of witnesses, and intimidate or threaten anyone who might know something. We knew it wasn’t going to be easy when we started. Nothing’s changed.”

  “Everything’s changed. I don’t want any more blood on my hands.” Jenna glanced at Harry. “I don’t want anything to happen to you two.”

  Jake took a sip of coffee and sighed. “There’s a blood battle coming, Jenna, whether you’re part of it or not. If you want to stop it, or at least control it, then let’s go back to work. You said earlier you needed to map out your trial, find the questions and then the proof to back up those questions.”

 

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