Out of the Dark

by Sharon Sala

  A few minutes later, a nurse came back with a plastic sack full of bloody clothes, a pair of equally bloody shoes, and a cell phone and watch. Myers put on latex gloves and grunted to himself as he sorted through the lot. If they were lucky, Newton might have some numbers stored in the cell phone’s memory that would take them in the right direction. He dug through the pockets, counting out a dollar and forty-three cents in change. There were several hundred dollars in his wallet, no credit cards, and a fake driver’s license. There was nothing in there that would give away his true identity, but that didn’t matter. They knew who he was, just not who’d sent him here.

  “Hey, Bradley, you go through the pants and shirt pockets,” Myers said.

  Wearing a pair of surgical gloves, Harry Bradley searched Newton’s pockets with careful precision. He didn’t want to make contact with any of the contaminated blood any more than Newton had.

  “Whatcha’ got?” Myers asked.

  “An unused toothpick, still encased in the cellophane. A half a pack of sugarless chewing gum. A receipt for gas…and some trash. Wait. There’s a name and phone number on the back of this one.”

  Myers’ interest was piqued. “What’s it say?”

  “It ain’t talkin’,” Bradley drawled.

  Myers frowned. “Damn it, Harry, you know what I mean. Whose name and number is on the paper?”

  Harry Bradley grinned, then turned his attention to the paper.

  “The name is Frank Lawson. Ever hear of him?”

  Myers thought for a minute, then shook his head. “I don’t think so. What’s the number?”

  Bradley repeated it.

  Myers’ frown increased. “That’s a Tennessee area code.”

  “How do you know something like that?” Bradley asked.

  “I have an aunt and uncle who live outside of Nashville. Same area code.”

  “I’ll be damned,” Bradley muttered. “Wonder what that could mean?”

  “I need to make a couple of calls,” Myers said.

  “To who?” Bradley asked.

  “First call is to Nashville. Think I’ll give the chief a little call. See what he can tell us.”

  He got information, and within a minute or so was being connected to Nashville’s chief of police.

  “Chief Randall, my name is Larry Myers. I’m a homicide detective with the St. Louis P.D.”

  “Hello, Detective. Is old Earl still behind the desk over there?”

  “Yes, sir, that he is.”

  “So, what can I do for you?”

  Myers quickly explained the situation about the murders and taking Newton down.

  “Good work,” Randall said. “We’ve been hearing about that on the news. Nasty piece of business.”

  “Yes, sir, and that’s why I’m calling. We found a name and a phone number in the pocket of the man we took into custody yesterday. I was wondering if it might ring a bell.”

  “What’s the name?” Randall asked.

  “Frank Lawson.”

  The congenial smile on Chief Randall’s face disappeared as his feet hit the floor.

  “Big Frank?”

  Myers frowned. “I don’t know who that is. All we have is Frank Lawson and then a phone number. It’s within the Nashville area code is why I called.”

  “Hell yes, I know him. He’s running for governor.”

  Myers’ heart rate accelerated as his body went still.

  “He’s what?”

  “Big Frank is quite a popular guy. It’s common knowledge that he’s pretty much a shoo-in come election day.”

  “What do you know about his past?” Myers asked.

  Randall frowned. “There was talk that he lived pretty rough in his younger days, but he’s been a household name for years. A few years back, he single-handedly saved a woman and her kids from a killer. Took the shooter down by himself and then called 911. He’s pretty much a hero around here.”

  “Well, my instincts tell me there’s a good chance that your hero might have some big flaws. Do you know where Lawson is?”

  “At this moment?” Randall asked.

  “Yes, sir…at this moment.”

  “I’d hazard a guess that if he’s not home, he’s on the road campaigning.”

  “Want to do me a favor?” Myers asked.

  “Always happy to help a fellow officer in a murder investigation.”

  “Thank you, sir. I really appreciate this.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. What is it that you need, boy?”

  “I’m going to give Mr. Lawson a call, but I’d like to think I had some long-distance backup on the premises, just in case he decides to run before we can question him.”

  “Give me thirty minutes,” Randall said. “I’ll find out where he is and give you a call to see if we can make this happen.”

  “Yes, sir, and thank you,” Myers said, and then gave the chief the number of his cell phone.

  “Let’s head back to headquarters,” Myers said. “I’m thinking the captain needs in on this.”

  With only thirty minutes to spare, they jumped in their car and headed back to the station.

  Charlie Black was finishing off a tuna melt when Myers and Bradley knocked on his door. He motioned them in as he wiped his mouth, then eyed the plastic bag and the bloody clothes with distaste.

  “Damn, Myers, shouldn’t that be logged into evidence?”

  “Sir, I think we may have found the break we’ve been looking for.”

  Charlie’s disgust turned to glee, imagining how pleased Earl Walters was going to be if they broke this case.

  “Tell me,” he said.

  “We found a piece of paper in Newton’s pocket with a name and phone number. It’s a Tennessee phone number…the same area code as Nashville. I know because I have family in the area. Anyway, I called the chief of police, told him the name in question, and he nearly blew a fuse.”

  “So who’s the guy…some country music star?”

  “Better. A big shot of some kind who’s running for governor. Frank Lawson.”

  “Big Frank Lawson?”

  “You know him?” Myers asked.

  “I know of him,” Charlie said. “Are you saying that Lawson is the man who wanted Raphael and Jade Cochrane dead?”

  “Don’t know yet, but I didn’t want to call this number until we had some backup in place. Chief Randall is supposed to call back in just a few minutes. Once he’s got men posted in Lawson’s location, I thought I’d give him a ring…just to see what he has to say.”

  “Good idea,” Charlie said.

  A couple of minutes later, Myers’ phone rang. It was Randall.

  “He’s still at his home,” the chief said. “I have three patrol cars parked in the vicinity of his house. If he decides to take an unexpected vacation, we’ll be detaining him for a few more questions. How’s that?”

  “Perfect,” Myers said. “And, sir, if he gets hinky while we’re talking, my captain will let you know. You can relay the message to your patrolmen so they’ll know he’s likely to go on the run.”

  “Good luck,” Randall said.

  “Yes, sir,” Myers said. “Same to you.”

  “Is it going down?” Charlie asked.

  “Yes, sir. Now for the final touch.”

  Myers took out his handkerchief and carefully picked up Newton’s phone with it, then took the paper from his partner, Bradley.

  “What are you doing?” Charlie asked, when Myers used Newton’s phone to call Frank Lawson.

  “I’m making a call,” Myers said.

  “With Newton’s phone?”

  “If this Lawson fellow has caller ID on his own phone, it might be interesting to see what he has to say when he thinks Newton is the one making the call.”

  Bradley grinned. “Damn, Myers, wish I’d thought of that. Get it on tape.”

  “Will do,” Myers said, and set about making it happen.

  A few moments later, he dialed the number then put his finger to his mouth to
indicate silence as the call began to ring through.

  Frank Lawson was stepping out of the shower when his cell phone began to ring. He had a television interview in a couple of hours and no time to waste, but then he saw who was calling and quickly picked up.

  “It’s about time you called,” Frank said. “Did you finish the job? And don’t give me any shit about it, either. Remember, you’ve got Jacks to do next, and time’s wasting.”

  Myers was grinning from ear to ear. They’d hit pay dirt.

  “Mr. Lawson?”

  Big Frank choked. He was a man who thought fast on his feet, but even as he was talking, he knew that it was too late.

  “No, Frank isn’t here.”

  “So if you’re not Frank, who are you and why are you answering his phone?”

  “Who the hell are you?” Frank countered.

  “I’m Detective Myers with the St. Louis homicide division. We have arrested a man here for the murders of three people, and we’d like to know why he had your name and phone number in his pocket.”

  Frank heard the word “three” and immediately thought that the third victim was Jade. He was mentally congratulating himself while knowing that he would have to make other arrangements about Otis Jacks. But right now, he had to get himself out of the faux pas that he’d made.

  “I told you, I’m not Frank Lawson. He’s on his way to the studio for an interview.”

  “Then I suppose you wouldn’t know why that name and this number would be in his pocket?”

  “No, sir, I don’t.”

  “Then maybe you can tell me who you are and why you’re using Lawson’s phone?”

  There was a moment of silence, then a very distinct click.

  Myers looked up. He was grinning.

  “Captain, I think you’d better call Chief Randall in Nashville. Lawson just hung up on me.”

  Frank had dressed, packed a small bag and emptied the safe in his bedroom. His world was crumbling. He didn’t know how long he had, but run he must.

  He dashed through the house and then into the garage, tossed his bag in the back seat, then opened the garage door. Within seconds, he was behind the wheel and backing out. Halfway down the driveway, he saw a police car pulling into position to block the exit.

  “No,” he moaned, as his mind went blank. It couldn’t end like this. Not after all he’d accomplished. Damn Johnny Newton. Damn Otis Jacks. And damn that little bitch, Jade, for not dying when he’d tried to cut out her heart.

  He pulled to a stop at the end of the driveway, then got out, wearing his famous smile.

  “Hey, boys, what’s goin’ on here? Am I in some danger? Has there been some kind of threat I don’t know about?”

  Another two police cars pulled into view. At that point Frank knew that the brand of bullshit he’d been spreading for years had just gone out of style. He frowned. Ever the optimist, he switched from jovial to indignant, yanked his cell phone from his pocket and dialed the police.

  “I need to speak to Marty Randall. Tell him it’s Big Frank Lawson.”

  Almost immediately, Randall came on the line.

  “Hello, Big Frank, what can I do for you?” Randall asked.

  Big Frank huffed, then he puffed. “For starters, you can tell me what the hell three police units are doing blocking my driveway. I’ve got an appointment, and they’re making me late.”

  “Well, they’re there because I sent them,” Randall said.

  “You? What the hell for?”

  “I think I’d like to ask you a question instead,” Randall said. “Why are your name and phone number in the pocket of a man who’s just been arrested for murder?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I think you do,” Randall said. “So what I want you to do is play nice and get in the patrol car. Let the boys give you a ride on down to the station. We’ve got some more talking to do.”

  “I’m not talking to anybody but my lawyer!” Frank yelled.

  “That’s fine with me,” Randall said. “But you’re still coming down.”

  This time Big Frank was the one who got disconnected. He watched in horror as the policemen got out and came toward him. One had a pair of handcuffs. The other had his hand on his service revolver.

  He groaned.

  God, please let this be a bad dream.

  But when the handcuffs snapped around Big Frank’s wrists, sharply pinching a bit of his skin, he knew he wasn’t dreaming.

  Twenty

  Jade woke up in increments, with an awareness of her body that she’d never had before. She lay motionless, her eyes still closed, and felt the throb of her heartbeat. The friction of the sheets against her skin was almost sexual, reminding her of the feel of Luke’s hands and mouth. She tested the tenderness of her lower lip with the tip of her tongue, wondering why it felt sore, then vaguely remembered biting down on it at the height of her climax.

  She shivered.

  Last night a great wall had been breached, and by nothing more than the tenderness and patience of Luke’s love. She remembered listening to his voice against her ear as she’d drifted off to sleep, focusing more on the sound of his voice rather than the promises he had made. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, she had slept through the night without nightmares. She rolled over on her belly and buried her face in the pillow.

  As she did, she felt a hand in the middle of her back.

  “Jade?”

  She groaned and then slowly rolled over onto her back. She had no idea that her wild, tousled hair and the smoky quality of a sleep-heavy voice would be enticing. If she had, she might have contemplated testing the waters again with Luke Kelly, but she was not confident in social etiquette for the morning after, and so she waited for him to speak.

  Luke smiled at her, then teasingly poked at her hair, pushing stray strands from her forehead and around her eyes.

  “Are you all right?”

  She nodded.

  His smile softened. “So am I. Very all right.”

  It was his tenderness that gave her ease. Tentatively she touched his face, rubbing her thumb against the curve of his chin and feeling the sharp prick of whiskers. It was such an ordinary, yet intimate, gesture. And what was most amazing of all was that she felt perfectly confident in doing so. Then she thought of yesterday and all that had transpired. It seemed like a lifetime ago, and yet her life was still in a rather precarious position. Until they found out who had hired Newton, she would never feel completely safe. Needing to say what was on her mind, she sat up. The covers fell down around her waist. She was not as daring in the bright light of day as she had been last night and reached for the sheets.

  Luke stayed her intent with a touch, then a look.

  “It’s just me,” he said softly.

  Subconsciously her fingers went straight to the scar.

  Luke frowned. “Don’t worry about it, honey. It’s just a map to your heart.”

  “Oh, Luke.”

  “See,” he said, and ran his finger along the faint white line up from her belly to the place where the mark began. “Right over your heart. Now, if I ever lose my way, I’ll know how to get back.”

  She stared at him for a moment, and then suddenly choked on a sob and covered her face with her hands.

  Luke sat up, then put his arms around her.

  “It’s okay, honey. It’s okay. Cry all you want. Cry until all the pain is gone, and when it is, we’re going to start over.”

  Jade looked up, her eyes swimming with unshed tears.

  “Start over on what?” she asked.

  “On building memories. Only this time, they will be good ones…happy ones.”

  She sighed. “Oh, Luke.”

  “You already said that,” he teased.

  She made a face at him. “And it’s entirely your fault that I’m speechless.”

  “I was that good, was I?”

  Her mouth dropped—her eyes widened with surprise. Then sh
e saw the twinkle in his eyes and started to grin.

  “You’re teasing me.”

  “Yeah. So what are you going to do about it?”

  She threw her arms around his neck and wrestled him back down onto the bed.

  Luke was laughing when she finally pulled back.

  “Do you give?” she asked.

  Suddenly all the playfulness was gone from his face. He tightened his grasp and pulled her close, until she was lying across his chest with her head beneath his chin.

  “Yes, I give…. I give to you for always and whatever you ask.”

  Jade snuggled against him, taking comfort in the love and the protection. Then she thought about Raphael and closed her eyes. How could this be? How could she feel these moments of joy when he was gone from her life forever?

  Not as long as you remember my name.

  She flinched. The shock of hearing his voice—now, when she was lying in another man’s arms—was unnerving. Then she thought of what she’d heard and relaxed. He was right. As long as someone remembered his name, he would never really be gone.

  “Luke…?”

  “What, baby?”

  “I talked to Sam.”

  “Yeah…what about?” Luke asked.

  “Things…mostly about Raphael. No funeral. No box in the ground. When I can, I want to spread his ashes somewhere beautiful. He would have liked that.”

  Luke took her hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing each fingertip, then the center of her palm.

  “You are a remarkable woman, Jade Cochrane. He was blessed to have you as a friend.”

  “And I was blessed to have him,” she said; then she shifted her gaze to a spot on the wall. “What’s going to happen?”

  He frowned. “Are you talking about us or—”

  “No. I mean that man…that killer. Do the police know who hired him? Do you think the danger to my life is over?”

  Luke thought of Mabel Tyler, then tunneled his fingers in her hair and momentarily closed his eyes. Lying to Jade was not an option.

  “I would like to say that you’re safe, but until we know the whole story, I don’t think we should assume anything, do you?”

  “No. We should not assume.”