Hallowed Ground (Julie Collins Series #2)

by Lori G. Armstrong

  I pushed him. “Just because you hired me does not mean you get to make that decision.”

  Before I could stomp off, he’d vaulted the bike and spun me about. His body blocked mine; his hands cradled my head, forcing me to drown into the icy blackness of his eyes.

  “Yes, I do, because you aren’t thinking rationally.”

  I froze.

  “Stop looking at me like I’m the Boston Strangler,” he snapped.

  “Then get your goddamn hands off my neck and quit acting like you’re going to strangle me.”

  He kept his hands right where they were. “You’ve got to listen.”

  “Fine. I’m listening.”

  “I’m not stupid. You think I didn’t know something was up? An anonymous tip? About Chloe? Come on. It’s obvious someone wanted me to find the bodies before the cops did. Why? And is it a coincidence all their personal belongings were left so the cops could ID them? I don’t think so.”

  Since I couldn’t shake my head with the vice grip he had on it, I blinked.

  “We are in deep shit here, blondie, since in one form or another we’ve dealt with every one of those dead people in the last week. Neither of us can afford to get involved in this investigation right now.

  “Once they connect Rondelle to Donovan, they’ll come to you. They’ll already be looking hard at the Hombres with Tommy being one of the victims. Our beef with the Carluccis isn’t exactly a secret. Add Harvey and Rondelle into the equation and we’re seriously fucked. No one can know what we’ve seen. Someone else has to discover the bodies.”

  “How long are you going to let them rot there?” I demanded.

  “You think I’m the only person who’s been tipped off? I’m surprised we got out of there before the cops showed.”

  His grip gentled. Shaking fingers caressed my cheekbones.

  “Trust me on this, if nothing else. Doing nothing is the only way we can handle it.”

  Part of me knew he was right. Part of me feared if I took this one wrong turn, would anything in my life ever be right again?

  I stared at him, looking for guilt, or conceit. I only saw anguish he didn’t mask.

  “Okay,” I said.

  And in that moment everything between us changed.

  He closed his eyes and exhaled. Pressed his warm, soft lips to my forehead. “Thank you.”

  “What about Chloe?”

  “Now you’ve got a bigger reason to find her.”

  Martinez held on to me, like I was the only thing keeping him up. I didn’t question my reaction and I sure as hell didn’t try to squirm away.

  Finally he withdrew. “Let’s go.”

  “You okay to ride?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Be better if we could stay here and get drunk.”

  That numbness had settled inside me, like I’d seen the whole thing on TV. The grisly images replaying in my mind would haunt me for the rest of my life. Alcohol wouldn’t blur them, yet I figured it was worth a try.

  “That was the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

  His eyes closed. “Wish I could say the same.”

  “You’ve seen worse?”

  No particulars. No surprise.

  He climbed on the bike.

  I placed my foot on the peg and threw my leg over, huddling behind him. We didn’t speak during the ride, or even after he’d dropped me off at my car.

  There was nothing left to say.

  CHAPTER 16

  I DIDN’T KNOW IF I COULD DEAL WITH KELL AFTER THE horror I’d seen. Hell, I didn’t know how to deal with myself. I sat in my car and let the heat of the day bake me. Maybe I could sweat those images out.

  Didn’t work.

  The Babbitt’s garage door opened. Before Mrs. Babbitt came over to see why I’d been basting for twenty minutes, I dragged my butt up the steps and inside the house.

  Kell sat on my couch, foot propped on the coffee table.

  Without a word I kicked off my shoes, stripped, and crawled into the shower. The water washed away the smell of death, but didn’t seep into my brain to erase the mental pictures. I stayed under the deluge until the water turned icy. Sad that this was becoming a habit with me.

  Robe on, hair combed, I bypassed the niceties with Kell and went straight for the Don Julio in the kitchen.

  Three slugs later, I began to breathe again.

  Bottle in one hand, empty Flintstones Village mug in the other, I shuffled into the living room and sat down.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked, hoping it sounded more sincere than it felt.

  “Better.”

  “Good.” Tequila splashed my hand as I poured another shot. I lit a Marlboro, grateful the smoke seeped to my lungs through the tightness in my throat.

  The air in the room was noxious, but not from the cloud of tar and nicotine.

  “What happened today, Julie?”

  Death. Distrust. Disloyalty. Pick one. I couldn’t muster up the guts to admit the truth. “Just another day at the office.”

  “No. Doing paperwork doesn’t put that haunted look in your eyes.”

  I traced a shaky fingertip around the lip of the cup.

  “Can you talk about it?”

  Not like Kell to press.

  I realized he normally didn’t ask me anything about my job because he didn’t care. I shook my head.

  “Then we’ll just have to talk about what happened the other day. It won’t go away no matter how much you try to ignore it.” He patted the cushion. “Come sit by me.”

  I knocked back the tequila and moved next to him, bringing the bottle along. My cigarette burned untouched in the ashtray.

  “You’re hitting that stuff pretty hard.” Kell reached for my hand. I moved it away. “Booze isn’t the answer.”

  “Depends on the question.”

  As usual he gave me time to consider my smart-ass response. Resentment welled up. Who was he to sit back and pass judgment on me? Or my choices? Better to blurt out the first thing that popped into my head than pretend everything was sunshine and fucking roses.

  Dramatic pause. Dramatic sigh. “Julie, you have to know this isn’t working.”

  I didn’t argue. But I didn’t want to hear his theory on why it wasn’t working. Was it too much to hope for he’d keep his wisdom to himself? Probably.

  “I know,” I said.

  “Do you know why?”

  “Because we’re too different?”

  “Partially.” He flipped his hair over his shoulder. The move I’d considered so sexy now seemed so … staged.

  “Partially?”

  “You want specifics? Okay. I thought I could accept the parts of you that are so different from me.”

  Ah. The old “It’s not you, it’s me” line.

  “And now?”

  “I realize I can’t.”

  I swallowed the shot and faced him. “I’ve never hidden who I am from you, Kell.”

  “That’s the problem. Maybe I didn’t want to see the real you.”

  “The real me,” I repeated. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “That there are parts of your life, your job for one thing, that I don’t understand. That I don’t want to understand.”

  The pity in his eyes was my undoing. “Yeah, good, because I don’t feel like explaining them.” I scooted away and attempted to get up, get away from him and his stupid amateur psychobabble.

  Kell grabbed my wrist, with more force than I’d believed him capable of and yanked me back. For a second I panicked. Could Kell have a violent streak like Ray? Like my father?

  “You will sit here and listen to me if for no other reason than you owe me for the pain I endured.”

  Shit. Kevin had been wrong. Kell did have a backbone. Why had he waited until now to show it? My stomach protested the tequila. I wanted to slink away and drink until it didn’t.

  “Do you know what I see when I look at you?”

  I didn’t move; this ought to be stunning.

  �
��A beautiful, strong, capable woman with a rock and roll heart and a warrior’s soul.”

  I sensed a “but” coming. There always was.

  “But, other times, I see darkness. A woman whose secrets, fears, and scars run so deep I’m afraid I’ll get sucked into that black hole. I’ve clawed my way out of those depths once, Julie, and I swore I’d never be dragged down again.”

  My fragile hold on my emotions started to slip.

  “I’ve spent years distancing myself from my violent childhood. I thought I could overlook the differences between us because I like being with you.”

  “But only when I’m ‘happy-go-lucky-Julie-the-party-girl. ’”

  “You’ve never acted like you wanted more from me than a good time, Julie.”

  “You didn’t seem to mind when you were fucking my brains out, Kell.”

  He winced.

  Infuriated, I snapped, “And don’t give me that bullshit line about using sex as a way to get closer to me.”

  “I could slice you open, crawl inside you, and I still wouldn’t get any closer to you,” he snapped back. He closed his eyes and shuddered. “Shit. Do you see what’s happening? I’m not like this. Not any more.”

  All the righteous anger left me. Kell was right. He didn’t have to stick around and put up with the life I’d chosen. Especially when it was diametrically opposed to the life he wanted.

  He inhaled and exhaled slowly. “There’s something else you need to know.”

  My laugh left a bitter taste in my mouth. “I don’t think I can stand more honesty today.”

  “When those guys were here? I didn’t pass out.”

  I gaped at him. “Yes, you did.”

  “No. I heard every word. I pretended to pass out. I knew the fun would disappear for them once I stopped screaming,” he said with resentment. “I was awake until the codeine kicked in.”

  “So you heard everything.”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s pretty dangerous knowledge.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m leaving town.”

  I wanted to ask where, but it was probably better if I didn’t know. I already knew the why.

  “The band got a six-week road gig. I can’t play for another week, but I’m going anyway. We’ll see what happens from there.”

  “You won’t be coming back?”

  “No.”

  I turned my head toward the living room window so he couldn’t see my guilty relief. “When are you going?”

  “T-Rex will pick me up when I call him.”

  My gaze zeroed in on the overstuffed army green duffle bag and grungy guitar case by the front door. How had I missed it?

  Right, I’d been thinking about the fly-covered bodies rotting in an abandoned shack. Could my life get any more screwed up? Why had I assumed any man would willingly want to be part of it?

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know I should’ve …” What? Done more to try and make him happy so he’d stay? Change my whole life for him so I didn’t have to be alone?

  Kell reached for my hand. “Hey.”

  “Don’t be nice to me, Kell. Not now.”

  “I can’t help it. You think this is easy for me?”

  My eyes finally met his and wished they hadn’t.

  “I liked being with you, Julie. But the price of being with you is just too high a price to pay.”

  Excellent parting shot.

  “Good luck with the band thing,” I said lamely.

  Snagging the bottle of tequila, I sought the sanctity of my room.

  Curled up in my bed, I heard T-Rex’s monstrous rig pull up, the low murmur of masculine voices in the living room, then quiet.

  With the mug forgotten on the coffee table, I swigged directly from the bottle. I had better than a buzz on. If I kept it up, I’d pass out.

  Who’d care if I fell face first in my flannel sheets?

  I thought about calling Kim. Weren’t girlfriends supposed to share break-up stories?

  I debated on calling Kevin. But he’d always been less than impressed with the men I chose, and consequently, less than sympathetic when the relationship ended. He might even think I’d finally gotten my comeuppance, since I was usually the dumper, not the dumpee.

  I swallowed another mouthful, but the liquid burning down my throat didn’t wash away the self-reproach.

  Who was I to feel sorry for myself, anyway? Rondelle was dead. Harvey would be devastated. Chloe’s life would be forever changed. Losing a lover because of my own bad choices paled in comparison.

  Dizzy, I let my head thunk back into the headboard. My eyes closed. I’d sleep. Forget about everything. Just a little while.

  Peaceful sleep was elusive.

  I dreamed. Not about Rondelle, or Chloe, or Kell, but Lilly.

  I swept back the beaded curtain leading to her domain, and cool, dewy grass tickled my bare feet. The nauseating scent of Easter lily was in the air, and I couldn’t breathe.

  Lilly sat in the center of a pillow-covered bed, holding court, her white gossamer gown cascading into a bridal train. Muted sunlight backlit her into an angel.

  I shuddered and told myself it was an illusion.

  She beckoned me to a marshmallow chair beside her.

  “We need to talk about Kevin.”

  Callous Lilly and I never talked. We sniped, argued, and glared. Chatting like old chums was as far out of our realm as this dream. I willed myself to wake up.

  Why had my subconscious created a deathbed scene, reminiscent of the one in Gone With the Wind where Melanie begs Scarlett to look after Ashley when she’s gone?

  Lilly stared across the field, the yellow sunflowers turned toward her, anxious to bask in her golden glow. “I know you don’t like me.”

  I said nothing. Lying to a dying woman served no purpose.

  “I don’t like you either.” Her limpid brown eyes met mine. “That’s why I’m taking Kevin with me when I go.”

  “No!”

  I reached for her; she disintegrated before my eyes. An ear plopped on her lap. Parts of her body began to drop away like chicken from the bone, until nothing remained but a pile of shriveled black chunks.

  Then Kevin shuffled into the room, catatonic, wearing shackles and a navy Brooks Brothers straitjacket, his gaze stuck on his blue paper shoes.

  I tried to get up. To help him. To save him. My chair distorted. Iron clamps snapped across my arms, around my ankles. A crowd gathered, my dad, a priest, my ex-husband, Ray, Harvey. They eyed me through bulletproof glass.

  A metal cap covered my head.

  Bud Linderman entered the room, tipped his cowboy hat at me, grinned, and flipped the death switch.

  In the next second I was standing at the door of the deserted shack. I had a gun in my hand and blood on my clothes.

  Dark shapes littered the space like piles of dirty laundry.

  Kell was on the floor, dead. Ben was on the floor, dead. Martinez was on the floor, dead. Flies buzzed everywhere.

  “See? I told you she’d do it.”

  I whirled to face Lilly.

  All that remained was her voice.

  I stared in horror at the carnage before me.

  “You’ve killed them all,” Lilly said.

  “I didn’t kill anyone.”

  “Wrong. If they’re with you, they are as good as dead.”

  The bloody heaps had multiplied.

  Kevin appeared, dazed.

  His white tuxedo pants absorbed the pools of blood, red raced from the hem, faded into watery pink when it reached the waistband.

  “Make him pay the high price. Shoot him,” Lilly urged sweetly. “Pull the trigger.”

  “No!”

  But my arm lifted anyway.

  I cried as my thumb released the safety. Screamed as I cocked the slide. Felt the devil snatch my soul as I sited my target.

  Kevin came out of his stupor. His eyes went wide with terror.

  “Julie, don’t—” he yelled as I squeezed the tr
igger and killed him.

  CHAPTER 17

  AFTER THE HORRIFIC DREAM, I STARED AT THE POPCORN-TEXTURE of my ceiling trying to make sense of it. When the phone rang, I shot straight up like a firecracker had exploded beneath my bed.

  I squinted at the clock.

  Nothing good comes from a 2:49 a.m. wake up call.

  “Hello?”

  No answer.

  A hang-up? I was about to slam the phone back down when I heard soft breathing, followed by the chink of a bottle against the receiver on the other end.

  “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me, Jules.”

  My strained muscles relaxed. “You scared the crap out of me, Kevin.” I shoved pillows aside until my spine connected with the headboard. “Where are you?”

  “Home.”

  “You okay?”

  “No, not really. Lilly …” He cleared the hoarseness from his throat. “She’s gone.”

  I closed my eyes at the sharp pain in his voice. “When?”

  “This afternoon. I came home after. Nodded off. When I woke up, I wondered if maybe it’d all been a bad dream.” His labored breathing hummed in the earpiece. The bottle of whatever he was drinking clunked against his phone again. “Has it all been a bad dream? The last few months?”

  The bedcovers flew as I hopped up and frantically searched in the darkness for my clothes. “Shit. Hang on, I’ll be right there.”

  “No. Not necessary. I don’t need you.”

  The room spun. My toes dug for purchase in the carpet after my heart dropped to my feet. “What?”

  “What I meant was, I don’t need you right now. I didn’t call you so you could rush over here and hold my hand, Julie.”

  “What if I want to come over and hold your hand?”

  He sighed.

  I wanted to scream.

  Instead, I asked softly, “Then why did you call me?”

  When Kevin didn’t answer, my mind supplied wild reasons, all of them selfishly about me, none probably even close to the truth.

  “I just wanted to let you know about Lilly.”

  Was I supposed to say thanks? I bit my tongue.

  “It’ll be at least another week before I’m back in the office fulltime,” he continued. “Her parents have asked me to help tie up loose ends and I …”