Devils Among Us (Devin Dushane Series Book 1) (10 page)

Whack! The punching bag at the gym had seen better days, and
Devin was really putting a strain on it with her multiple kicks and combination
punches. She had always found this therapeutic, even when she was a little
girl. The concentration and discipline of martial arts cleared her head and
kept her more balanced. She knew she was drawing a lot of stares in this small-town
gym as she gave the bag a mighty spinning kick followed by a rapid-fire jab
combo. There were no other women in sight and most of the other patrons were
concerned with sheer bulk rather than speed and agility.  Her outfit was also
garnering her lots of attention. Wife beaters and cut off sweatpants seemed to
be more of the norm rather than her black spandex shorts and red running tank.
She suspected that many of the weight lifters were extending their work outs to
see what she would do next. After her cardio workout, all activity in the gym
had ceased as she taped up her hands for her fighting exercises.

“Nice form.” Shane’s voice broke into her concentration.

Those two simple words took her back to the day Greg died.
The last full conversation they had was about her running form. It was a memory
she didn’t want. With unnecessary force Devin slammed her fist into the bag,
almost ripping off one of its many duct tape bandages. She stared up at the
ceiling with both hands on her hips, trying to catch her breath, the bag still
swaying in front of her.

“What do you want, Shane?” Her voice was harsher than she
meant it to be, but it was the best way to disguise the wave of emotion that had
just come over her.

“Hey! Is that any way to talk to your biggest fan?”

She spun on him in an instant, yanking the towel he offered
out of his hands. Half snarling she narrowed her eyes.

“This whole self-defense course was your idea, wasn’t it?”
She didn’t give him a chance to answer. Instead she began wiping down with the
towel and continued on her rant. “I was just being a Good Samaritan, I had no
intention of becoming involved, but what was I supposed to do, let those young
girls get manhandled by a drunken redneck? It’s not in my nature to let those
things go, that’s why I’m a cop.”

He was nodding sympathetically, which was irritating her
even more. “I know. I would have done the same thing.” She tried to interrupt
him, but he wouldn’t let her. “But this is small-town mentality and you’re an
outsider, there had to be a slap on the wrist. I can’t say I’m not pleased,
though.” He ignored her scalding stare. “Devin, there really is a need for this
kind of program in the community. Women here are utterly lacking any street
sense. They are unprepared for any kind of danger. I’ve been lobbying for a
self-defense class for a while, but before we never thought we’d have enough
attendance to make it worthwhile.”

She wrapped the towel around her neck, still scowling, but
her anger was subsiding. “Why do you think you’d have enough people now?”

“Are you kidding? Like I said, small-town mentality.
Everybody wants to get a look at the new girl. Especially after the beat-down
you gave those punks last night. Plus, you’re a relative of the most famous
murder victim in Fenton’s history.” The grin that never faltered became even
larger. “Shoot, I’ll be surprised if we’re not turning people away. They’ll
probably be peeking in the windows the first night of class.”

Devin’s laugh echoed off the cinderblock walls but was lost
in the noise of the gym as she kneeled down to pull her water bottle out of her
gym bag. She took a long pull of water as she plopped down on the bench a few
feet from where Shane had taken a seat. She rested her head against the wall
and glanced over at him, he wasn’t usually quiet this long. He was staring at
her perplexed, as if he were trying to figure out a puzzle.

“What?”

“You have a lot of interesting ink.”

“Two. I have two tattoos. I’m not exactly a side-show
freak.” She chuckled to herself as she took another gulp of water and instantly
regretted it.

“I can’t decide. Is it an angel? Or an ‘I Love Swords’ tat?”

She nearly choked to death on her water. Her eyes were still
watering when she answered him. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“I do believe someone might have mentioned that before.” As
much as he grinned it was a good thing he had such perfect teeth. “So which is
it?”

It was hard to be haughty when it came to body art, but
Devin gave it a shot and kept her voice cool. “It’s actually an angel holding a
sword, the archangel Michael, to be exact. He’s the patron saint of the
warrior.”

“Well, that’s appropriate, isn’t it?”

Something in his voice told her that he knew. She revealed
her past to very few people, but he was persistent enough to do the research on
his own and it wouldn’t have been that hard for him to find. She leaned her
head back on the wall again and closed her eyes as she let out her breath in a
whoosh.

“You’re a real thorn in my side.”

“What? I don’t even rank as a pain in the a—”

She cut him off. “Shane! What do you know?” She was
resisting the urge to throw him down on the mat and put her knee in his throat.

“Well,” he leaned forward and extracted a roll of papers
from his back pocket. “I know that eight years ago, you were the up and coming
fighter in the U.S. Women’s Mixed Martial Arts League. I also know that you
were one of the fighters lobbying for co-ed fights and match-ups based on
ability and not just size. Which was highly controversial and never really took
off after you weren’t there to continue the quest. Although I’ve got to say
that would have been a sport worthy of watching. People flipping and bleeding,
flying all over the ring…”

As he talked he had his hands up as if he was in a fight
bobbing and weaving his head to avoid blows. He was a goofball, but it did help
lighten her mood.

“Alright, Mr. Blood and Guts, what else?” Devin had to smack
his arm to get his attention back. She didn’t smile, but she did let the
corners of her mouth twitch ever so slightly.

“Oh, yeah.” He rolled his print outs open again. “Let’s see,
in 1993 and 1994 you had a series of unexplained absences from the sport for
several months at a time. Lastly, in November of ’94 you were banned for life
from competing in any sanctioned martial arts fights in the U.S. or Canada, but the reason for the ban was never disclosed.” His voice had grown softer and he
didn’t look up from the papers when he finished speaking.

She let the silence build for a moment. “You know I would
never have gotten into the academy if I had failed a drug test.”

His head snapped up, eyes popping from their sockets. “No! I
didn’t mean…I know you wouldn’t…”

She shook her head slowly without looking at him. “No, you
don’t know me.  But I did not fail a drug test.”

Devin debated just getting up and leaving, but for some
reason she felt compelled to tell Shane what had happened. She sighed deeply.
Her voice was monotone and matter-of-fact.

“Underground fighting is illegal. It’s unregulated, which
makes it highly dangerous, and it’s a hot bed for illegal gambling, drug rings
and prostitution. For all those reasons any league worth its salt bans its
fighters from participating.” She glanced over at Shane, who was enthralled
with her tale rather than horrified.

“At that time women’s competitive fighting didn’t pay very
well, and Carter was working on getting signed in Phoenix, but no money had
come in yet. Tucker, my baby brother, was in huge trouble. He’d been hanging
out with the wrong people, and they had pinned him with drug charges, grand
theft auto, assault and attempted murder.” Shane sucked in his breath, and for
once he wasn’t grinning. Devin started picking at the tape on her right hand as
she continued.

“He was looking at a lot of prison time and needed a really
good lawyer, but we didn’t have that kind of money. My dad’s business partner,
Mickey, who we  lived with, had already taken out a second mortgage on their
garage to pay the bail. They were going to lose the business, and Tucker was
going away for a long time.” She gave up on the tape at that point and just
yanked it off her hand and started unwinding it. “The best way I knew to lay my
hands on that much cash was to go to Thailand and compete there in the underground
circuit. American fighters were in high demand, especially women.  If you won a
big fight, you could walk away with as much as $50,000 cash. I bankrolled his
legal team for the entire trial, the most prestigious firm in Richmond.” Her
smile was grim, but satisfied as she stared across the room remembering. “He
was acquitted of 95% of the charges and ended up doing twelve months.”

“You sacrificed your entire fighting career, and he still
did time?” He didn’t notice that he had crushed the papers he held into a mangled
mess.

Her smile was warmer this time, but tired. “It was worth it.
The D.A.’s original offer was twenty years.” She pulled the towel off her neck
and tossed it into the basket at the end of the bench. “Anyway, word eventually
got back to someone in the league what I was doing. When they confirmed it, I
was out, and, ironically, I began my career in law enforcement.” For once her
grin matched his.

“That is an awesome story!” He was in awe. “It’s all true?”

Devin held one hand to her heart and the other up in the air
as if she were testifying. “Every word.”

“You totally need to sell the movie rights. That is a big
bucks story. Did anyone ever get killed in these fights?” She could see the
wheels in his head turning.

“Nice, Shane!” She got up and dropped her water bottle in
the trash can and began gathering her things. “Let’s make a profit off the
suffering and death of those around us.”

He just rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant.” He stood
up as well and tossed his papers into the trash. “This is the kind of thing
that happens on the big screen, not in real life to people I know.”

Devin froze with her gym bag in midair and stared him down
for a moment, then tossed the bag on her shoulder and started across the gym
for the door.

“Yes. About once a month someone would be killed fighting.”

Shane stood gawking for a few moments and then hurried to
catch up with her as she waved good-bye to the cheerful muscle-bound giant with
a high and tight haircut at the counter. His tank top read ‘God Blessed the
Scrawny with Good Gyms’. He called out as they passed by.

“God bless and come again!”

Shane was in a hurry to resume his questioning so he was
quick to cut off this conversation.

“Thanks Ned, see you around!” With that he held open the
door and ushered Devin out into the bright sunlight and pressing heat of the
late afternoon. The door had barely swung shut before he turned on her.

“Did you ever kill anyone?

She took her time as she dug through her bag for sunglasses,
carefully formulating her answer in her head as she thought back. She looked up
when she had finally slid the glasses into place.

“No. I have never killed anyone in the ring.” There. That
was true. “But I saw it done often enough. It is an ugly business, let me tell
you.”

Shane was standing with his arms folded across his chest
facing her across the sidewalk, completely awestruck. She suddenly felt the
need to escape. This was too much raw truth for one afternoon.

“Well, as fun as all this rehashing the past is, it’s time
for me to go stick to the leather seats in my car and bake all the way home.
See ya around, Shane.” She pulled her keys out and walked confidently to her
car. Let it never be said that Devin Dushane looked shaken.

Shane finally snapped out of his trance.

“Hey! Wait a minute! Can I buy you dinner tonight? You know,
repay you for all this great storytelling?”

She never paused or looked back. “Nope.”

“What? Why not?”

She was unlocking her car now and glanced up at him with a
grin before she got in. “Because I don’t like you.”

Devin stood in the front hall staring through the screen
door. She had her arms crossed tapping her car keys against her lips. She was
going somewhere, she just didn’t know where yet. Dinner with the Christiansons
had been pleasant enough. They had gone out of their way to make her feel like
family, but that kind of affection always made her edgy. She’d gone for a run
when she got home, but she hadn’t been able to out run her anxiety. She was
dressed for exploring in a fitted t-shirt and cargo capris with tennis shoes.
Her hair was still damp from her shower, so it was twisted up into a clip.

Where did she need to go? Where was she being called?

Suddenly she knew where to go. She turned back to the hall
side table and pulled her pistol from the drawer, checked the chamber, and the
slid the holster onto her waistband at the small of her back. Then she was out
the door. Within minutes she was listening to the engine of her mustang purr as
she headed east out of town towards the Summit.

At its prime the Summit had been a popular teen hang out
that would have drawn a huge crowd on an evening like this, but Devin found it
deserted at seven-thirty in the evening. This was how she liked to look at a
crime scene, when it was quiet she could absorb the surroundings, hear the
whisperings of what it had to tell her.

With that in mind Devin started into the woods where Laney’s
body had been found. This particular patch of forest was darker than the rest
and lay silent as if in solemn memorial to the life lost here. It was as if
this patch of ground was a blank void that blemished the vibrant park like
surrounding of the lake.

After finding nothing unusual about the crime scene other
than its proximity to the pavilion, Devin kept to the tree line working her way
down to the lake. Her plan was to walk out on the dock overlooking the water,
but when she reached the sandy beach, she was compelled to stop where she was
and turn around.

She felt it. The knowing sensation swept down her spine like
a finger of ice. Looking up the gradual incline of the lawn, she had a clear
view of the pavilion, parking area and the woods that curled around them where
Laney’s body had been found. Something about this view was screaming at Devin,
but what was it? What was she supposed to see?

Had Laney come down to the lake and then been forced into
the woods? That would literally have been an uphill battle, and that kind of
struggle would have drawn attention. More than likely she was pulled from the
pavilion into the dense woods that were just a few yards away. But did she go
willingly with a friend, or was she grabbed when no one was looking? Had the
killer watched Laney from this spot, planning his attack? Too many questions
and no answers.

Frustrated with what she wasn’t seeing, Devin made her way
down the dock. The evening light reflected off the lake like liquid
candlelight. The pressing heat of the day had finally faded into caressing
warmth. She flopped down on the end of the dock and dangled one foot above the
water.  Wishing she could be content to enjoy the beautiful landscape and the
cooling mountain breeze rolling across the lake, but relaxing that much meant
letting your guard down and leaving your mind open. There were some memories
she didn’t want to turn loose. But even now, a pair of wide, frightened dark
eyes was burning into her consciousness, the same eyes that had tortured her in
her nightmares for years. Devin quickly snapped her eyes shut and shook her
head. Now was not the time, it was never the time. When she opened her eyes
again, her gaze found the tattoo on her wrist. Her whisper barely broke the
silence of the lake. “Redemption.”

She wondered if she could ever save enough lives to redeem
her from the one.

She didn’t know how long she had been sitting there, but was
surprised when she shivered in a particularly cool gust and finally looked up
at the sky. It was getting close to sunset, and she hadn’t even been in the
pavilion yet. Devin sighed as she pushed herself up. Less moping and more working,
that’s what she needed. She had taken exactly one step back up the dock when
she froze. Adrenaline pounded through her veins as she scanned the tree line
and eased her hand behind her back to grasp the pistol handle. Call it being
psychic or just the gut of a cop, but she knew she was not alone. She hesitated
to pull her weapon; it could be hikers, stargazers or just teenagers looking
for a spot to get drunk, in which case she would hate to look like a crazy
person brandishing a firearm. Devin stayed frozen for thirty seconds, then
sixty. There was nothing, no sound, no movement. Gradually her adrenaline faded,
and she knew she was once again alone. Someone just passing through? Or someone
that had been caught watching?

Devin first circled the pavilion from the outside and then
made her way into its musty shadows. Studying, absorbing, imagining until she
could hear the bouncing rock and roll tune blaring from the juke box, smell the
cheep cigarette smoke hanging in the air and see Laney full of enthusiasm and
smiles with a crowd gathered  around her. What she couldn’t see was vivacious
Laney walking away from the fun of the party into dark and menacing woods. And
no one could have grabbed her out of the crowd. She had walked away with
someone she knew.  Devin also couldn’t see how someone didn’t notice Laney was
missing earlier in the evening. She was someone you noticed or noticed the
absence of. Someone—or several someones—were not telling the truth about that
night.