The Dark Age: A Marlowe Gentry Thriller (Marlowe Gentry Thriller Series Book 2)

by Dallas Mullican

  “Everything went peachy for a while,” said Jessica. “Evan took good care of Julie and Jenny. Paid off her debts, set her and Jenny up with an apartment until they got married, even paid for Jenny to get braces.”

  “Wait,” said Kline. “Jenny wasn’t Evan’s daughter?”

  “No, Evan adopted her after he and Julie married. She was thirteen when they married, almost fifteen when Julie died.” The last words fell off into a silence. Jessica put up a tough exterior, but pain shone in her eyes.

  “Things didn’t stay good?” Marlowe stood and busied himself perusing shelves littered with knick-knacks and photos.

  “No. Evan’s religion became overbearing. He wouldn’t let Julie or Jenny see their friends. He dictated what clothes they could wear, what they could watch and listen to. Julie dealt with it for as long as she could, but imagine telling a teenager she can’t listen to hip-hop or rock, can’t watch whatever shows and movies are popular. Julie said the house turned into a hell on Earth. Pretty damn ironic if you ask me.” Jessica drew Marlboro Light from a pack and put it between her lips. “You mind?” She lit the cigarette and took a long draw, blowing a plume of smoke through her nostrils. “By the end, Julie couldn’t walk without Evan complaining her stride was ungodly. She finally had enough and planned to leave him.”

  “Evan abusive?” asked Kline.

  “Ha. Hell no, Julie or Jenny either one could’ve kicked his ass. The guy had the spine of a jellyfish. No, he used guilt as his weapon of choice. Julie said whenever they fought he got these godawful headaches, practically seizures. He would whine and cry, and she would relent and do what he wanted. The trick didn’t work on Jenny as well, but it made Julie keep her in check.”

  “But Julie eventually decided to leave him?” asked Marlowe.

  “The night of the accident, she called me really upset. They had a real bad fight and she left. She was headed here…” Jessica broke down, sniffling and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I-I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Take your time.” Kline retrieved a tissue for a side table and handed it to Jessica. She placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder and waited for her to regain composure.

  “I’m all right. Still hurts after all this time. And now Jenny, too.”

  “Did you stay in touch with Jenny after they moved away?” asked Kline.

  “Yes. She called all the time to complain. Jenny felt locked in a cage with Evan. He worked from home, and unless he was out on a job, he hovered over her constantly. They fought like cats and dogs.”

  “Is there anything else you can think of we should know? Any idea where Evan might go? Did you learn anything about his past? His life before Redwine?” asked Marlowe.

  Jessica shook her head and took another gulp of the soda. “Only that he attended the college. I didn’t see him much. I don’t think he liked me. Feeling’s mutual. He gave me the creeps, and Julie said he considered me a bad influence.” She huffed with a sardonic grin.

  Marlowe tugged at Koop’s elbow and nodded to the others. “Thank you, Ms. Mallory, you’ve been a great help.”

  Jessica stood and walked them to the door before heading to the backyard and the comfort of her sons.

  “So, that’s it, right?” asked Bateman as they returned to the SUV. “He’s killed the two preachers who knew the girl, or his wife for that matter.”

  “I think so.” Marlowe climbed in behind the steering wheel. Four doors shut in unison.

  “I’m not so sure. It isn’t like flicking on a switch,” said Kline. “It’s rarely turned off easily.”

  “Got a message from the department.” Bateman scrolled down his iPhone’s screen. “Marshall attended a chapel on campus while at Oakwood. The chaplain serving then is no longer there. Died of a heart attack five years ago.”

  “Let’s ramp up security at the college until Marshall’s apprehended, just in case. His face has already made the news, and every cop in the state is looking for him. Only a matter of time.” Marlowe slid the car into gear and pulled away.

  CHAPTER

  16

  Spence hung up with Marlowe, who had updated him on the second murder and the suspect. Neither Marlowe nor any of the team saw any link to Charlie’s disappearance, but he had offered to come down and put the investigation under SVCU’s jurisdiction. Spence considered it, but at this point, any connection remained insubstantial aside from the fact all the victims were Baptist preachers. The Heretic’s MO so far had involved torture and leaving the bodies to be found, which did not appear to be the case with Charlie. Until he had something concrete to go on, it was better that the team continued to work the angles up north.

  He had spent two days questioning residents in Jackson City. Most were pleasant, but he got the impression they were hiding something. Averted eyes, a blush, and stammered voices suggested they knew something they’d rather not tell him. Even Aunt Betty shuffled through half sentences and veiled assertions.

  “W-well, people talk, ya know? No one can say a bad word ‘bout Charlie. Not and it be truth.” Betty, flustered, worried at the clasp on the handbag in her lap.

  Spence had shown up on her doorstep unannounced. At the first sight of him, she yanked him close in a bear hug and begged him in for coffee and cake. When Spence refused and asked if she knew anything about Charlie, any reason someone might want to hurt him, she clammed up, something he would have thought an impossibility.

  “No, no one’d want to hurt Charlie. Everyone loved him.”

  “But you said, people were talking. About what?” Spence took the coffee, but passed on the dessert, chocolate cake with more icing than cake.

  “Nothing really, ya know. I heard something…just bits…‘bout maybe a woman. Someone coming to his house…real late.” Betty stared at her cup, searching for something hidden in the white porcelain’s red floral design.

  “A woman? Like an affair?” Spence huffed. “Not possible.”

  “Of course not. Not a chance. Charlie was a godly man, not a stain on ‘im.” Aunt Betty sat her cup on the table and kneaded at her dress, refusing to glance his way.

  “But so what if he decided to date? He’s not a priest, and it doesn’t mean she was married. Maybe Charlie had a girlfriend.” Spence tried to get his head around it. If that were the case, why would he hide it? And why late night rendezvous? Charlie was a man with a man’s needs, but still…No, not possible. Pure steel, Charlie, the man wouldn’t bend.

  Betty seemed to think the same, frowning at the theory. “That must be it…Yeah, I’m sure you’re right.” The agreement felt less than half-hearted.

  “You live across the street from the church. I can see Charlie’s house from your front porch. You’re with him more than anyone. Did you ever see anyone showing up late at night? Or any time? A woman?”

  Betty kept her gaze on the floor while shaking her head. “N-no, I never saw nobody. I…I mean not like you’re asking.”

  Spence squinted at her, but when tears gathered in her eyes, he let it go. If she knew more, she would tell him. Betty wanted Charlie found as much as he did. In many ways, she remained closer to his brother than he did, at his side, a right-hand woman at the church for the fifteen years Spence spent away.

  He rubbed a hand over his head, another though coming to mind. “Did Charlie have any dealings in the northern part of the state? Walnut Grove or Redwine?”

  “He got asked to do revivals all the time. Seems he preached one up that way ‘bout a year or so ago. I’m not sure if it was near those towns. I can check if you want. Should be a record some place. Charlie would’ve turned in receipts and such for expenses.”

  Spence nodded. “Do that. The name Evan Marshall ring any bells?”

  Betty scrunched her nose as if the concentration were painful. After a moment, she shook her head. “No, can’t say it is. Why you ask?”

  “A long shot I’m looking into. No need to worry about it.” Spence stood and handed his cup to Betty. “Thanks. I’ll
touch base in a day or two.”

  With his mood soured, Spence left Aunt Betty’s with a thousand questions swirling in his mind. He needed a drink and a few minutes to allow his mind to drift away from present concerns. Two bars populated Jackson City, a redneck saloon on the north end of town, and a dive catering to ‘the other side of the tracks’ on the south. Spence headed toward the dive for obvious reasons. An encounter with a drunk redneck might be just what he needed to work out some of this building frustration, but Sheriff Blatty itched to have him out of the area. No need to give him an excuse.

  Shakers served a variety of the down and out, the low rung of the social ladder—mostly poorer black folks, white trailer trash, a handful of Hispanic migrant workers in the county to pick fruit this time of year—and as a weekday dump for serious drinkers. The more affluent residents might have a beer with supper or an evening cocktail and visit the nicer bars and nightclubs in Montgomery on the weekends, but wouldn’t be caught dead in Shakers.

  Spence pulled into a parking lot littered with Harley Davidsons, rusted pickups, and an assortment of older model cars. A couple of large, mean-looking white guys in blue jean vests patched with the Devil’s Disciples logo eyed him as he made his way to the entrance. Spence nodded and one of the two may have grunted in his direction.

  Inside, Shakers bustled with raucous laughter and conversation. Two couples slow-danced in an open area at the far end of the bar to some AC/DC song booming from an ancient jukebox. Five booths lined the left hand wall, six tables in the middle of the floor, with the bar running halfway down the right side of the building. Each table, and intervals along the bar counter, contained bowls of hulled peanuts. Once shelled, the husks found their way to the hardwood floor, issuing soft crunches underfoot whenever the music paused.

  Two dozen people occupied the dingy bar—the dancing couples, a group of bikers shooting pool, and a table of Hispanic laborers. Spence stepped to the counter where a busty, bleached blonde took his request for whatever was on tap. She filled a mason jar with some weak, amber beer and slid it to him with little more than a glance. A biker who appeared too fat for the largest Harley, a skull-covered bandana over his egg-shaped head, wedged in beside him, his back to Spence, facing a woman seated three stools down.

  “Hey, Baby. Damn you lookin’ fine.” The gorilla nudged the bar stools aside and pushed close to the woman.

  Obscured by Fat Biker, Spence couldn’t see her, though he had noticed her shapely form as he entered the bar; he’d taken a seat near her for much the same reason as this buffoon, though he hoped his tactic would have been smoother.

  “Thanks,” said the woman without looking up.

  “Let Boss buy ya a drink,” said Fat Biker.

  “I’m good.” She lifted a full glass to prove her point.

  Boss leaned in close, but inebriation kept his voice at a roar of over the thumping music. “Come on, Baby. Let Boss show ya a good time.”

  “Not interested,” said the woman.

  Two things Spence hated—men who pushed themselves on women in bars, and anyone who spoke of themselves in the third person.

  “I ain’t good enough for ya? Ya uppity black bitch.” Boss put a hand on her shoulder and turned her toward him.

  The woman slung the contents of her glass into his face.

  “Ya done it now, bitch.” He wiped the liquid from his eyes and reared back one meaty paw.

  Spence caught it by the wrist and spun him around. “The lady said not interested. You deaf and stupid?”

  “Fuck you, nigga.”

  “Don’t you know that’s not PC? Now you’ve gone and offended both of us,” said Spence, smirking and still latched onto Boss’s forearm.

  “I’m gonna do more ‘n that,” said Boss.

  The biker attempted to yank his arm free while swinging a hook with his free hand. Spence pulled the right down and ducked the incoming strike. A heel to Boss’s kneecap elicited a sharp crack and a yelp from the big man. Spence twisted the arm back at a ninety-degree angle and leaned in close to Boss’s ear.

  “One more inch and I snap this arm like a twig.” He gave it a little pressure to insure Fatboy got the picture. “You’ve got two choices—you can apologize to the lady, head back over there and have fun with your buddies, or spend the rest of the night in the emergency room. What’ll it be?”

  Boss’s face, bright red, glared up at him. Another fractional nudge on the arm and the glare turned to a plea.

  “All right. Fuck man, I’m sorry.”

  “Not to me…to her.” Spence nodded toward the woman without taking his eyes off Boss.

  The biker craned his head back. “I’m sorry. Just havin’ fun, ya know? Didn’t mean nothing.”

  Spence released the arm and stiffened, expecting Boss to make another move now that he was free, but the big man offered a pathetic grin and walked away.

  “Thank you,” said the woman.

  Spence took her in for the first time. Beautiful, with dark skin, hazel eyes, and long jet-black hair falling down her shoulders in slender strands. His breath caught in his throat as she stood to face him. Little more than five-feet-tall with the body of a gymnast …

  “Tamara?”

  Her eyes popped wide. A single step and a leap landed her in his arms. “Spence! I can’t believe it. I can’t believe you’re here.”

  He held her, breathing in the smell of her hair, the faint scent of roses on her skin. Memories flooded back, threatening to put him on his knees. After a long embrace, Tamara stepped away, smiling and looking him up and down.

  “You look amazing. Certainly been taking care of yourself.”

  “And you’re more beautiful than ever. You haven’t aged a day.” It sounded like a line, but he couldn’t have been more sincere.

  “Ha, I don’t think I agree with you. Feel it more every day.”

  “You and me both.” Spence guided her to the counter with a hand at the small of her back, the innocent touch sending goose bumps popping up along his arms. “What are you doing in this dump?”

  “Jasmine’s a friend.” She nodded to the blonde tending bar. “I keep her company and she keeps the creeps off me. Usually.” Tamara gave Jasmine a look of disapproval. The blonde shrugged. “Home because of Charlie? I wasn’t sure you would come.”

  The pointed statement stabbed deep. Tamara knew Spence better than anyone with the exception of Marlowe, or she did, so many years ago. That she doubted he would return with his brother in trouble spoke to the total dissolution of his relationship with Charlie.

  Tamara seemed to notice and placed a delicate hand on his arm. “Let’s get outta here.”

  She had traveled to the bar with Jasmine, so they took the Explorer and drove north through town. With her seated next to him, Spence recalled so many dates, so many good times spent together. But also…the end. A goodbye that had left them both shattered. Without realizing it, he found himself pulling into Jackson City High School and stopping near the stadium. The place stood as his greatest prize and his albatross, a leaden weight hung from his neck, stilling life in a morose purgatory. Tamara clasped his hand, led him through the gates, and up into the bleachers. They sat beneath the press box on the fifty-yard line, gazing out onto the field covered in late August yellowed grass and bare of the white chalk lines and numbers. A half-moon hid behind clouds, illuminating the puffs with silver edges.

  “I’ve been here a hundred times since high school, but being here with you…now, it feels different.” Tamara snuggled against him, and a wave of nostalgia again washed over him. “I remember sitting over there…” She pointed to the left side of the bleachers where the band had sat awaiting halftime. “Dressed in a ridiculous majorette’s costume, freezing my ass off, and watching you run up and down the field. You were so amazing.” Tamara squeezed his bicep. “The first time we made out, right under where we’re sitting now. Remember?” She giggled and reddened like the schoolgirl she had been.

  “How could I forget
?” Spence stared across the field, his voice distant.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, a lot of memories. This…” He waved his hand and drew it into his lap to conceal the trembling. “And you…the best time of my life. All I ever wanted, ever dreamed of, was playing football. I bought into the hype. I’d go to UA, then the pros. With you, money, a successful career, it filled my mind, leaving no room for anything else. When I tore up my knee…right there on the ten-yard line—last game of the year, area playoffs against Bremen…” The words trailed off, and Tamara allowed him the silence. Spence shook his head, his voice slow and pained. “Alabama said they’d honor the scholarship even though I couldn’t play. My grades were good enough to switch the athletic scholarship over to academic, but I couldn’t do it. To be around it, knowing my dreams would never come true. Everything here reminded me…” Spence gazed into her eyes, his hurt reflected in hers. “You most of all. Everything we’d never have. Self-pity, stupidity. I see that now. No one understood, except maybe you, on some level. Not Charlie, though. When I refused the scholarship and told him I wasn’t going to the university…”

  “I did understand. It broke my heart, but the change in you…It was so dramatic. You wouldn’t let anyone in or anyone close.”

  “I know. Maybe pride kept me away, I don’t know. I just couldn’t come back. I couldn’t.” Spence dropped his head.

  Tamara touched his chin and tilted his face to look at her. “You’re here now. Nothing you can do about the past.”

  They sat in the dark quiet for a long time, Tamara’s head resting on Spence shoulder. The confluence of old wounds struck against present need and exploded somewhere inside him. All he had avoided for over a decade came crashing in—his mother’s condition, Charlie’s disappointment and absence, Tamara’s feelings of abandonment.

  “A cop now, I hear. How did that happen?” Tamara’s attempt to steer the conversation in a new direction was both obvious and appreciated.

  “Stumbled into it. I moved to Birmingham, took a job delivering materials to contractors around the city. Always ate lunch at the same couple of places in town. Creature of habit, ya know? Well, this cop ate at one diner about the same time as me. Turned out he went to Bremen and recognized me. We talked a good bit, became friendly, and he suggested I enroll at the academy. I thought he was crazy, but he convinced me, and well…the rest is history.”