Hallowed Ground (Julie Collins Series #2)

by Lori G. Armstrong

  Couldn’t refuse. Kevin wasn’t a doormat; he was pragmatic. He’d also need to tie up loose ends before he could move on with his own life. I hoped Lilly’s parents were the type to let him move on.

  “Is there anything I can do?” I was so used to being on the other end of dealing with grief that my consoling skills weren’t rusty; they were completely corroded.

  “Would you call Jimmer in the morning? I’ve hit my limit in being the bearer of bad news.”

  “Sure.”

  Sounded like he took another swig. “Death messes you up, doesn’t it?”

  Kevin’s news added another nasty layer to the gruesome deaths I’d seen today. I shuddered. “Yeah, it does. Are you sure you don’t want me to come over?”

  “No. I’m not sure of anything except I’m relieved it’s done.”

  From twenty miles away I actually felt him wince through the phone lines.

  “Shit, I’m such a bastard for even thinking it, let alone saying it. But, God, she was in such pain. And I couldn’t help her.” His sure, strong voice wobbled. “Maybe it’s clichéd, but at least she’s not suffering any more.”

  “You’ve done more than anyone could have expected.”

  “It wasn’t enough though, was it?”

  “Don’t—”

  “Sorry. Look. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Kev—”

  Too late. He’d hung up.

  Half an hour later I sat in my car at Kevin’s condo, smoking the tail end of my Marlboro Light. The lights were off. Chances were slim he’d fallen asleep.

  I’d almost bought his bullshit story about not needing me. Almost. But if it’d been me making the muddled late night phone call, Kevin wouldn’t have asked, he just would’ve shown up on my doorstep.

  So here I was. I made space in the overflowing ashtray to stub out my cigarette and shouldered my purse.

  As I crept up the redwood steps, I separated his shiny key from the others on my key ring. I shoved it in the lock and quietly swung the door open. Inside, I punched in the code, and waited for the amber light.

  I could’ve knocked, but it would’ve been too easy for him to ignore me. I reset the alarm and reluctantly hauled myself up another flight of stairs.

  The house was absolutely quiet. Completely void of any light, normal household noises, or the lingering scent of food. Totally creeped me out.

  Where was Kevin?

  I headed down the narrow, dark hallway toward his bedroom, my fingers trailing along the pebbled texture of the wall as a guide.

  Behind me I heard a gun slide snapping back as the cocking mechanism clicked in place.

  “Don’t move,” Kevin said, “or I’ll blow your fucking head off.”

  I froze. My mouth didn’t.

  “Goddammit, Kevin, that isn’t even funny.”

  “Julie?”

  I heard the surprise in his voice, but didn’t see him, which sent chills up my spine. It was like talking to a ghost. I spun around and glared at nothing.

  “Who the fuck were you expecting? The Easter Bunny?”

  He revealed his hiding place to be the bathroom, but I still couldn’t see his face. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “No shit.”

  “Sorry.”

  Nerves made me babble, “How many people have the security access code to your house, anyway?”

  “Just you and Lilly.” He dropped the gun by his thigh. “With all the other things on my mind tonight I wasn’t sure I’d reset the alarm.”

  “Well, you did.”

  “I thought you were … hell, I don’t know what I thought.”

  “I think you almost shot me. No wonder. This place is like a goddamn cave.”

  Kevin walked to the kitchen. Flipped on the under counter lights and set his gun next to the coffee maker. The yellow glow highlighted the deflated set of his shoulders. He didn’t turn around.

  “I can’t believe you came,” he said.

  “Yeah? I can’t believe you thought I’d stay away.”

  Silence.

  Berating him didn’t qualify as comfort.

  Oh God. My heart hurt just looking at him.

  I slipped behind him and wrapped my arms tightly around his waist, burying my face in the warm cotton shirt covering his back.

  His hands rested on my forearms. He leaned into me. I leaned into him. I didn’t cry. He didn’t cry. Neither of us said a word.

  We stayed locked together in silence for a long, long time.

  Finally Kevin squeezed my elbows and untangled my arms from his stomach. “Coffee?”

  “No. But I will have whatever you were drinking when you called me.”

  “Peach brandy.”

  I made a face. “Didn’t know you were a peach brandy fan.”

  “I hate the stuff,” he said. “Lilly loved it. Since she won’t be around to drink it …”

  “Peach brandy is fine.”

  He turned slowly and pressed his backside into the marble countertop.

  No wonder he hadn’t wanted me to come over; his zombie impression was stellar. Bloodshot eyes, two days worth of stubble, deep lines accentuating his lean face. A ratty baby-blue oxford shirt flapped open, leaving his broad chest bare. A pair of faded Hawaiian surfer shorts hung dangerously low on his hips.

  I hadn’t seen him in such a state of undress lately. He had to have dropped fifteen pounds in the last month.

  My concern gave way to fury. He hadn’t bothered to take care of his own health while he’d been taking care of Lilly. It further incensed me Lilly’s family hadn’t noticed the toll that round-the-clock care had taken on him.

  “Bottle is in there on the coffee table.”

  Without comment, I followed him. He turned on a metal floor lamp. Cool purple light illuminated his ultra mod living room, the ultimate in bachelor digs. Industrial gray carpet, snow-white walls. Sleek black leather furniture faced an entertainment center that took up one entire side of the room. No knickknacks, artwork, or family pictures cluttered the clean lines of the ebony end tables. So the worn denim comforter and pillow from his bed looked peculiarly out of place in such stark surroundings.

  I spied the half-empty brandy bottle and picked it up before dropping on the couch.

  Oddly enough, Kevin didn’t settle on the opposite end. He plopped right beside me.

  I swallowed a hit of the sickly sweet liquid, shuddered, and passed the bottle to him. He knocked back a slug.

  “Actually, this stuff’s not half bad,” he said, handing me the almost empty container.

  “An illusion. Downing half a bottle numbs the taste buds.” I sipped, then decided the hell with it and gulped a mouthful.

  Kevin tipped his head back and drained it. Handed me the empty and kept his neck wedged between the cushions. He stared at the shadows on the ceiling.

  I stared at the shadows on his face.

  Was I supposed to press him to talk about Lilly? Find another bottle and encourage him to drink until he blacked out? The last time we’d gotten liquored up together, we’d nearly ended up naked.

  Not surprisingly, Lilly had been between us that night too.

  “What am I supposed to say, Kev? What am I supposed to do?”

  “Weird being on the other end, huh?” He rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand and sighed. “Talk to me. Tell me about how things are going with Kell. Update me on the Black Dog case. Bitch about what happened with your dad on Sunday. Anything. Just don’t ask me any questions, okay? I don’t think I can stand to answer another fucking question today.”

  “I’ve been a bad influence on you,” I said. “You never used to swear this much.”

  “Learned from the best. If you’re good at something you should stick with it.”

  “Fuckin’ A.”

  A tiny smile from him. “So what’s up with guitar boy?”

  “Old news, my friend. He hit the road with the band.”

  Kevin lifted his head and frowned. “When?”
/>
  “About four this afternoon.”

  He paled and I knew he’d been mourning a loss around that same time, but a much deeper one than mine.

  “Can you believe he dumped me?” I said hastily. “Couldn’t deal with the ‘darker’ aspects of my life.”

  “Such as?”

  Kevin didn’t know about the visit from Bud Linderman and his posse. Or Carlucci’s goons. I couldn’t tell him about the bodies Martinez and I had found, not that I wanted to recount that horror. Ever. I had nothing to report on Chloe since I still hadn’t found her. Oh, my life was one happy event after another. Maybe Kell had been right.

  “Julie?”

  “He said the negative energy surrounding my job put a blot on my soul. Like spending his life chasing a record deal made his soul somehow more pure than mine. What a load of crap.”

  Kevin studied me. Saw right through my bullshit. “I’m not surprised. The only reason you hooked up with him in the first place was because he was the exact opposite of Ray.”

  I snagged the pillow and squeezed it. “Probably.” Without a hint of subtlety, I changed the subject. “Thanks for having Kim rescue me last Sunday.”

  “No problem. What’s new at the ranch?”

  “Dad was bitching about the dust from the casino construction. Guess the Sihasapa Tribal Council and the county is blowing off the ranchers’ concerns. You know how well that sits with those old boys. He acted all tough, like they’d round up an angry mob and handle it themselves with pitchforks and torches.”

  “Think his blustering has any merit?”

  “No, he’s all talk.”

  Those cool green eyes stayed steady on mine, patient as a cat’s. “Not always.”

  Neither of us said anything for a while. The buzz I’d anticipated from the brandy morphed into sleepiness. I yawned and glanced over at Kevin, who was once again rubbing his temples.

  “You okay?”

  “Feels like my eyeballs are going to burst.”

  The clock on the DVD player read 4:02. “I’ll go so you can get some rest.”

  His hand dropped and gripped my thigh. “Stay.”

  One little word with so much power.

  I stayed.

  Before I was aware of his intentions, he’d nestled his head in the plumped pillow on my lap and stretched out.

  I brushed back the hair from his cool brow. Massaged the tension from his head until his breathing slowed.

  Before Kevin drifted off, he murmured, “I’m really glad you came.”

  Strange, how the simple touches and simple words had healing powers for me too.

  I closed my eyes and floated away.

  Several staccato knocks echoed and jolted me awake. Sun shone through the blinds, casting barred shadows on the gray carpet. Not orange carpet. I wasn’t at home.

  Someone grunted.

  Kevin.

  At some point last night Kevin and I had fallen asleep, me on the floor, and him on the couch. “Kev? Someone’s at the door.”

  “I’m hoping they’ll go away.”

  The banging became decidedly louder.

  He pushed up from the cushions. Dragged a hand through his hair. Untangled his legs from the blanket. Stumbled to his feet.

  “All right, all right,” he grumbled. “I’m coming.”

  Kevin made his way down the stairs to the front door.

  I yawned and scooted up on the couch. With the amount of booze I’d poured into my body yesterday I’d anticipated the world’s worst hangover. But the throbbing was minimal. Until the door opened and an arc of light stabbed my eyes. Oh, yeah. There it was.

  A lilting female voice exclaimed, “Kevin, it’s about time! You had me so worried.”

  “Hello, Rose,” Kevin said. “What are you doing here?”

  Rose? Who the hell was Rose?

  “You left so quickly yesterday, and we didn’t hear from you last night. Mom and Dad sent me to check on you. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Stairs creaked. At the top, a petite woman with a glossy cap of brown hair stopped and stared at me with something akin to horror.

  I resisted the urge to practice my beauty contestant wave.

  “Who are you?” She eyed the empty brandy bottle, the twisted bedcovers, my disheveled appearance.

  Hoo-fucking-ray. Her resemblance to Lilly was uncanny.

  Before I could answer, Kevin interjected, “This is my partner, Julie Collins. Julie, this is Lilly’s younger sister, Rose Howard.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. A move rife with hostility, but not as grating as the way her impertinent little nose flared repulsion. “Lilly told me all about you.”

  “Yeah?” No doubt Lilly had made me out to be the anti-Christ. Rose had just lost her sister; her antagonism didn’t surprise me. I chalked up her attitude to grief and let it slide. I inched my toes into my Birkenstocks.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” I said automatically.

  “I was just about to make coffee,” Kevin said. “Be right back.”

  Then the deserter snuck into the kitchen, leaving me alone with the prickly Rose.

  Cupboard doors banged, water ran, coffee beans crunched in the grinder. How the hell long did it take to make coffee?

  Evidently Rose was far unhappier with me being here than I had suspected and she wanted to make sure I knew it.

  “Didn’t take you long, did it?” she sneered. “My sister’s been dead less than twenty-four hours and yet, here you are, cozied up to Kevin.”

  When Kevin returned, she spewed her venom on him. “Lilly warned me this would happen. But I’d expected better from you.”

  I shot to my feet. Had to be a new record for me: from conciliatory to confrontational in 2.3 seconds.

  “Shut up. You don’t come here and treat him like some goddamn delinquent after he’s spent the last three months at Lilly’s bedside.”

  “Julie—”

  “No. She wants to think the worst of me, fine. But I will not stand here and watch her treat you this way.”

  I glared at her until color bloomed on her cheeks.

  “Why the hell are you here at 7:30 in the morning? Give the man a little time. It’s not like he hasn’t spent every waking hour with your family. Or is his grief a group activity too?”

  My cynical side wondered if Rose was hoping Kevin would turn to her so they could share their sorrow. That thought made my skin crawl.

  But not as much the horrid thought that immediately followed.

  Is that what everyone assumed about me? That I’d been biding my time until Lilly died and then I’d make a move on him?

  My God. Is that what Kevin thought?

  I felt all kinds of ill that owed nothing to alcohol.

  Kevin sighed.

  Rose shot me a dirty look that would’ve done Callous Lilly proud. “It’s none of your business why I’m here.”

  “Rose, why don’t you go into the kitchen. I’ll be right there,” Kevin said.

  She gave him a tremulous smile. “Of course. I’m sorry. It’s just … so hard.” A tiny sniff of distress escaped. Shit-brown eyes glistened with tears. She dropped her waiflike chin, too distraught to continue.

  And I thought Lilly had been bad.

  Kevin reached out to her, touching her shoulder, offering reassurance. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just see Julie out.”

  Since he was facing me, he didn’t see her triumphant look before sashaying into the kitchen.

  I so didn’t need this crap. I snagged my purse, and gave Kevin a wide berth on my way downstairs.

  He caught me at the door and pulled me next to the coat closet and out of earshot. “Hey. I didn’t know she was coming.”

  “Pity you didn’t pull the gun on her.”

  Kevin smiled. “Always the tough girl. Thanks for showing up last night and kicking my ass. I wasn’t thinking straight when I said I didn’t need you.”

  “I know that, doofus.” I
smoothed the wrinkles on his shirt. “And you’re welcome.”

  “Doofus. Haven’t heard that one in a long time.”

  “I meant it in the most affectionate way, you dork.”

  He covered my hand with his. Leaned down and rested his forehead to mine. “I know.”

  The coffee pot beeped twice.

  I gave him a small headbutt and backed away. “Call me if you need anything.”

  He nodded, but I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for the phone to ring.

  CHAPTER 18

  I’D MANAGED TO SCORCH MY LUNGS WITH A FEW CIGARETTES on the way home from Kevin’s.

  The soft, sweet air exclusive to summer mornings breezed through my car window. On this glorious day, I drank in the sights and sounds of the season that I’d been too busy to notice.

  A rocky meadow stretched alongside the road. The rolling ground dipped and spread out until it butted up against a steep pine-covered hill. Sumac grew in spots along the fence line, the rosy-magenta blooms of fire-weed played peek-a-boo with the tall stands of grass. This time of year the grasses ranged in color from a robust green to mustard yellow to a toasted brown.

  My imagination, or was everything covered in a fine layer of dust?

  In the pen of the riding range that ran perpendicular to the highway, two colts frolicked while the rancher loaded hay bales into the back of a beat-up Ford truck.

  I stuck my arm out the window and waved. He waved back.

  We’re all neighbors in friendly South Dakota.

  A few early risers on my street, who cared about their homes, were out watering lawns, flowers, and vegetable gardens in hopes of combating the impending heat.

  Life didn’t stop for death. While the gardeners were fretting about dry rot and fertilization, people like Kevin, and Lilly’s family, were mired in grief.

  I passed Kiyah’s run-down house; chipped gray paint, busted screen door, garbage scattered throughout the front yard. My feeling of peace dissipated.

  The periodic visits from Social Services hadn’t changed her situation. Strange men still paraded through her mother’s house and bed. Because of the restraining order, Kiyah could no longer seek refuge with me.

  Without me as a crutch had Kiyah finally made friends her own age in our neighborhood?

  I gave myself a mental slap. I had to let go, no matter how much I hated it. No matter how many nights I’d lain in bed listening to the loud party next door, worrying about one scrawny seven-year old girl.