When Darkness Falls

by Jennifer Youngblood

  “Of course you do,” Hank fired back, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “that’s why you’re here. Every time some Joe Shmoe pulls a job, you come around like a mangy dog, sniffing for scraps.”

  The man let out a nervous laugh. “Hey, no need to get personal, man, I’m just doing my job.”

  “That song and dance worked the first half a dozen times, Jared, but it’s starting to get old.”

  “Don’t blame me for running down the leads. It’s not my fault you’re the best in the business.”

  “Was the best,” Hank countered firmly. “The operative word here is was. I’m no longer in the business. You and I both know I’m clean.”

  “So you say,” Jared smirked. “This job was not done by a run-of-the-mill Shmoe. It has all of the markings of another Ghost Theft, only this time there was one thing missing from the scene—a parrot. Apparently, the thief let the bird out the window. According to the police report, the poor victim was more distraught over losing her bird than she was about losing her jewels. Go figure!”

  Ghost Theft? Why did that sound familiar? Chloe inched closer to the doorway and peeked in. Hank was sitting behind his desk, and a man with black hair was sitting across from him. She couldn’t tell for sure but thought she detected a faint Latino accent. A thousand questions pelted her at once—making her feel sick at her stomach. Why was Hank being questioned by a detective? Was he a thief? Or had he been? She should’ve known he was too good to be true. A bitter feeling settled over her. And then she remembered where she’d heard the term Ghost Theft. Darbie had been talking about a notorious jewel thief that was known by that name. Was Hank the Ghost Thief? The idea seemed preposterous, like something out of a movie rather than real life. She should’ve turned away that instant, but she couldn’t. She had to hear the rest.

  “For curiosity sake—tell me—if you were pulling this job, how would you do it?” Jared’s voice was conversational … musing.

  “I didn’t do it,” Hank said flatly. “And no, I’m not playing this ridiculous game.” He paused, and then his tone became speculative. “Does the chief know you’re over here, wasting valuable department time on this? Maybe you should put your focus on crimes that take place in Salt Lake rather than in another city. I’m sure you have enough things to worry about in your own backyard without searching for more. Due to the recent cutbacks in your department, I would assume that resources are more valuable now than ever.”

  Chloe could tell from the way the detective shot up in his chair that Hank had touched a nerve. “Watch it!” There was a hard edge to his voice. “All aspects relating to you are my jurisdiction, regardless of where the crime takes place. Things will go a lot easier for you if you’ll cooperate.”

  Hank let out a humorless laugh. “I’m allowing you to step foot in my office and badger me with these asinine questions. I’d say that speaks highly of my cooperation, wouldn’t you?”

  The detective let out a nervous laugh. “No need to get testy. You know how this goes, Hank. I need to know where you were Saturday evening.” He’d assumed a friendly tone, like they were the best of friends, but Hank wasn’t buying it.

  “Well, I sure as heck wasn’t anywhere near San Francisco!” he roared. His jaw was as hard as the floor on which Chloe was standing, and the way he was leaning forward in his seat, reminded her of a coiled snake, ready to strike. Hank was a force to be reckoned with—she didn’t know whether she should be scared or impressed by his die-hard attitude.

  “Where were you?” Jared pressed.

  “I was at American Fork Canyon.”

  The relief that washed over Chloe made her go weak in the knees. Hank was no thief! He was telling the truth! He’d been in the canyon with her all evening. There was no way he could’ve pulled off a robbery in San Francisco.

  “Is there anyone who can vouch for your whereabouts?”

  A disgusted look twisted over Hank’s face as he shook his head. “You don’t have a shred of evidence, do you? That’s why you’re here! You’re grasping at straws. I’m disappointed, Jared. I expected more from a seasoned professional like you.”

  “Stop playing games! I need a name! Who were you with Saturday night?”

  Hank was holding a pencil in his hands. He broke it in half with a loud crack. “I like you, Jared. Underneath that tough-guy, detective persona, I think you’re a decent guy. But I’m getting sick and tired of being put through the ringer every time some bozo steals something.”

  “You should’ve thought about that before you became a criminal.”

  Hank’s face went a shade darker, and Chloe feared for a second that he might punch the detective. “Let me be as clear as I can. I did my time. Paid my debt to society. Let it go.”

  “Sorry, man, doesn’t work that way … unfortunately.”

  Hank stood. “This conversation is over. Unless you have a warrant for my arrest, I suggest you get out of my office!”

  “It’s always a pleasure,” Jared said, standing. “I’ll be in touch.”

  It was at that moment Chloe realized she should make a hasty retreat, but it was too late. As Jared turned to leave, Hank looked up and saw her.

  Before either of them could say anything, Chloe’s mouth began moving at warp speed. “Hank couldn’t have stolen anything in San Francisco because he was with me in the canyon on Saturday night.”

  “Chloe, don’t,” Hank said.

  Her hand went to her hip. “Don’t what? Tell the truth? You were with me.”

  “You don’t owe him an explanation.”

  The detective stepped up to her. Now that she could see his face, she could tell that he was part Hispanic and looked to be in his early forties. He extended his hand. “Jared Flores.”

  She grasped it. “Chloe Kensley.”

  He looked her in the eye. “Were you speaking the truth? Was Hank with you in the canyon on Saturday night?”

  She glanced at Hank who looked like he was mad enough to spit nails. “Yes,” she said with conviction.

  Jared stroked his chin as a thoughtful expression came over his face. “You seem like a nice, upstanding girl.”

  Chloe tensed, sensing a set-up of some sort. Where was this going?

  “Are you sure you want to get mixed up with a convicted felon?”

  The ground seemed to shift underneath her feet as her face drained. She looked to Hank for confirmation. The humiliation on his face said it all.

  Jared shot her a look of pity. “You didn’t know.” He shook his head in feigned sadness as he clucked his tongue. “Why am I not surprised?”

  That’s all it took to get Chloe hot around the collar. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Let me repeat that Hank was with me all evening. He picked me up at my home and spoke to my roommate, who can also vouch that Hank was with me … in case you have any lingering doubts on the subject.” She gave him a withering look.

  She saw the look of gratitude on Hank’s face and thought she saw disappointment come over Jared’s face, but she couldn’t be sure. He turned to Hank and gave him a perturbed smile. “Why didn’t you just come out and say that you were with her? It sure would’ve saved a whole lot of trouble.”

  Hank shot him a venomous look, and Chloe got the feeling that he might’ve done the detective bodily harm had she not been there. “I told you, I’m tired of being your scapegoat. It doesn’t matter what I say or do, you always assume that I’m guilty.” He rubbed his neck. “This conversation is over. You know your way out.”

  Jared looked like he might say something more but then gave Hank a nod before walking briskly out of the office.

  When it was just the two of them, Hank motioned. “Close the door, would ya?” He sat down in the chair beside Chloe. “I’m sure you have lots of questions.” He sounded tired and defeated like the fight had gone out of him.

  She nodded.

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Where to begin …”

  She clasped her hands tightly
in her lap. “Why don’t you start by telling me how it is that you came to be a convicted felon?”

  “Yep, I suppose it always goes back to that.” He gave her a grim smile. “Well, the upside in all of this is that I’m about to tell you what I was hesitant to tell you in the canyon. Now there won’t be any secrets between us.”

  The word secret sounded so ominous. There were so many conflicting emotions churning inside of Chloe that she could hardly stand to sit there, but she needed to hear the truth, so she waited for him to continue.

  “In some circles, the name Hank Singleton is synonymous with one of the most notorious jewel thieves in the world.” His eyes locked with hers. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  A lump formed in her throat, and she nodded. “Are you The Ghost that everyone keeps talking about?”

  He looked surprised. “You know about that?”

  “Yeah, Darbie’s studying to be a cop, and one of her college professors is obsessed with him. Are you The Ghost?” she repeated.

  “Yes and no. I was the original Ghost, but I’m not now. I served my time and have been clean ever sense.” He paused. “I swear to you that I’m clean.”

  Her head began to swim as the words pelted over her. Served time. Clean ever since. It all felt surreal. “I don’t know how to deal with this,” she croaked, moving to stand.

  He caught her arm. “Sit back down. Please. Let me explain.”

  Tears gathered in her eyes as she slumped back into the chair. Hank was one of the last people she would suspect of being a criminal. He was so strait-laced and methodical about all aspects of his business. And he was a good person—a man of integrity. She’d felt that, hadn’t she? The idea that he’d lived this other life was so preposterous that she could hardly believe it.

  His eyes took on a distant look. “Garrett and I grew up in an apartment building. Our father left when we were kids, and our mother worked herself into the ground at a menial job, trying to keep us clothed and put food on the table.”

  Chloe nodded. This was a similar version to what Garrett had told her.

  “Anyway, our mother was gone a lot. The times when we weren’t getting into trouble, Glory looked after us. Also, we spent a lot of time with Clayton, the building manager. Clayton was something of a renaissance man. He taught Garrett and me all about his trade—how to repair air conditioners, heaters, refrigerators, stoves, leaky faucets. You get the idea.” He looked at her. “He also taught me how to pick locks and disable alarm systems.”

  A furrow appeared between her brows. “Was Clayton a thief?”

  “No, he was straight as an arrow. Didn’t have a dishonest bone in his body. He just liked to tinker with things. One time we even rebuilt a car engine. Anyway, Clayton was a good man, but his son was a different story. Trouble followed Sam like a second skin. When Sam realized that I had a talent for picking locks and disabling alarms, he introduced me to his longtime friend who was a locksmith. I started working there after school in the afternoons, and it wasn’t long before I learned the ins and outs of safes.”

  “You mean how to crack safes.”

  He nodded, a look of remorse coming over his face. “I never started out with the intent to become a jewel thief. Cracking safes was like solving a fascinating puzzle, and it felt good to be highly skilled at something. Anyway, after I graduated from high school, I went to BYU and studied business. I was in my senior year when my mom got sick with leukemia.” He paused, and she could tell he was trying to gain control of his emotions. Before she realized what she was doing, she placed a hand over his. He turned his hand over and linked his fingers through hers. A minute later, he cleared his throat and continued. “The treatments were expensive and the insurance wouldn’t cover them.” A tortured look came into his eyes. “You can’t imagine how helpless it felt to watch her getting weaker every day, knowing there was nothing I could do. She could no longer work, so I took on an extra job to help pay the bills. Things were getting bad, and I didn’t know how much longer I could continue to hold everything together. And then Sam drove down to Provo and paid me a visit. He offered me a way to get caught up on the bills and pay for my mother’s treatments a hundred times over. It was a mistake, and I was foolish. I see that now, but at the time it seemed like the only solution. And I was good.” His eyes burned with a hot intensity. “I was the best.”

  Sam. That name rang a bell. “What’s Sam’s last name?”

  He gave her a funny look. “Why?”

  “Because I believe I met him once when Garrett and I went out to dinner.”

  His jaw clenched. “Lowden.”

  Something clicked in her mind. “Yeah, that sounds right.” A shiver ran down her spine as she remembered the cold feeling she had around him. “He’s muscular with thinning hair and a goatee. Garrett said he was a business associate.” She could tell from Hank’s stricken expression that she’d caught him off guard. He was squeezing her hand so hard it hurt. “Are you okay?” She tried to extricate her hand from his, and then he realized what he was doing.

  “Sorry,” he said, loosening his grip. “When did this happen?”

  “A few days before I came to work for you. Is this bad?”

  “It could be,” he admitted. “Anything that has to do with Sam is bad.”

  She let that bit of information sink in, glad that she’d pegged Sam correctly. She didn’t blame Hank for being worried about Garrett, but he wasn’t her primary concern at the moment. She steered the conversation back to Hank. “If you were as good as you say you were then how did you end up in prison?”

  He let out a dry chuckle. “That’s a fair question.”

  A knock sounded, and then the door opened. Yvette stuck her head in. Her eyes went from Hank to Chloe and then to their clasped hands. A furious expression came over her face as she zoned in on Chloe. “Playing both sides, I see.”

  Before Chloe could articulate a response, Hank jumped to her defense. “Excuse me? What did you just say?”

  Yvette’s face grew chalky, and she started blinking rapidly. “I only meant that I can’t believe she’s chumming up with you when she’s …”

  “When she’s what?” Hank demanded, his voice cracking like a whip through the room.

  “Nothing. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Hank arched an eyebrow. “If you value your job, you’ll stop making cutting remarks about situations you know nothing about.”

  Her face turned scarlet.

  “Furthermore, I expect you to show Chloe the same respect that you show me. Is that clear?”

  “Yes,” she squeaked.

  “I trust that you came in here for a reason.”

  It seemed to take her a second to collect her thoughts. “You have a call. It’s from St. Mark’s Hospital. The lady on the line said it’s important.”

  Hank frowned and went to answer it. Chloe’s heart dropped when she saw his face crumble. “It’s Glory. She’s had a stroke.”

  17

  Chapter 17

  Weariness settled over Garrett as he turned onto his street. The trip to San Francisco had worn him out, and he wanted nothing more than to get a shower and crash in his own bed. As he pulled into the driveway, he spotted Sam’s sedan, parked on the street in front of his house. Instinctively, his hand touched the backpack containing the jewels. Rather than pulling into the garage, he parked in front of it and got out, leaving the backpack in the car.

  His heart dropped when he saw not only Sam get out of the car, but also an overly-muscled guy who had a raw look in his eyes like he would jump at the chance to start smashing things with his meaty hands. Rather than going to them, Garrett stayed near his car. His senses went on full alert as he flashed an easy smile. “Hey, Sammy.”

  Sam gave him a curt nod as he and the large man approached. “You’re a hard person to reach.”

  “Sorry, I’ve been out of town.”

  “Heard that one before.” His eyes narrowed into black slits.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”

  Garrett chuckled. “Now you know I would never do that.” He motioned at the hulk. “Who’s the big guy?”

  “His name’s Bill, and I sometimes bring him along to ensure that I collect.”

  “Is that really necessary? We’ve been friends all our lives.” A silent panic came over Garrett as he glanced at the hulk that looked more like a machine than a man. Garrett had no doubt that the meathead could do some serious damage if he were unleashed.

  Sam’s eyes turned to stones, letting Garrett know there would be no mercy. “You owe my boss $200K, and I’ve been sent here to collect. No excuses, man. I’ve been patient, but I can’t wait any longer. You’re making me look bad.”

  Lines creased Garrett’s forehead as he leaned closer to Sam. “Come on, now, Sammy. You know I’m good for it.”

  Sam sneered. “You certainly talk the talk, I’ll give you that.”

  “Okay, it’s like this. I don’t have the full $200K right now.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Marbles appeared in the corners of Sam’s jaws.

  Garrett’s pulse began to race when he saw Bill clench his fists. He held up his hands. “But I do have something that I think your boss will be interested in.”

  Interest lit Sam’s eyes. “I’m listening.”

  He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I have jewels that are worth at least $100K.”

  “I’m sorry. Your time has run out. I told you when I gave you the loan that you would have to pay it back in full—on time. Remember?”

  “I know. I just didn’t expect to run into so many complications. But I can do another job and get the rest. I swear it.”

  Sam shook his head. “The biggest complication here is you and your gambling habit. No matter how many jobs you do, you gamble it away faster than you can take it in. That’s why you got into trouble to begin with—because you owed the casino. You came begging to me, and I took pity on you.” He spread his hands. “And now you owe the boss.”

  “I just need a little more time.” A cold sweat broke across Garrett’s forehead. “Please, man, for old time’s sake—I’m begging you. Talk to your boss—tell him that I’m good for it.” Garrett held his breath as he waited for Sam to speak.