Devils Among Us (Devin Dushane Series Book 1) (18 page)

Shane scoffed as he dug another slice out of the box. “Are
you kidding? Great legs and she can eat her weight in pizza. That’s sexy as
hell.” He folded his fresh slice in half and bit off half of it in one exaggerated
savage bite.

“Wow.” She waved one of her hands in front of him in a
circle. “It really is all about your little agenda, isn’t it?”

“Uhh…yeah!” Shane pretended to be very emphatic. “It’s not
like you’re here forever, I’ve only got the summer to close the deal.”

“You’re a pig.”

He laughed as he crumpled up his paper plate and napkin. “Is
that the best you can do?”

As she carried the empty pizza box to the kitchen she called
him a list of much more colorful names. They reconvened in the dining room that
she had turned into a command center for her investigation.

“Let’s just go through this last box so you can get out of
my house and I can try really hard not to run into you for at least 24 hours.”

“Well that’s not really much incentive for me to get
finished is it?” He folded his arms and leaned against the arched doorway that
leads from the dining room to the kitchen. “You’d think you would be a little
more grateful for all my help.”

Most people would be prodded at this point to fall all
over themselves apologizing and offering their thanks, maybe even offering a
hug.
Which was exactly what Shane was fishing for. Devin was not most
people, and this little challenge was like throwing gasoline on an open flame.

Her words came out as a snarl. “Maybe I would be grateful if
you weren’t so completely obnoxious to be around. It’s round-the-clock cheesy
pick up lines and innuendos with you. Honestly, I’ve gotten better stuff busting
pimps off the street!”

Shane wasn’t smiling for once. “If you’d lighten up and stop
taking yourself so seriously, you’d see I’m perfectly charming. Everyone thinks
so. I just go over the top to try to get your attention. Otherwise, you’d never
even look up from case files to see where you’re at.”

Devin’s dark hair tumbled loose around her shoulders. The
humidity of the day had caused it to curl into ringlets; her normally chocolate
brown eyes were dark and angry. The contrast with her red t-shirt was striking.
Shane looked torn between kissing her and strangling her.

 “Why would I want to see where I am? This is not a
vacation, and I’m not looking to relocate to Fenton! I’m on a forced leave.”
She stepped back to give him a once over and folded her arms. “And if the girls
around here think you’re all that…apparently I need to introduce them to some of
those pimps I know.”

Shane stepped up so he could look down at her. “You are
impossible.
”

“Me? You’re an arrogant jerk. I’ve never met someone so full
of themselves.” She put her hand on his chest and gave him a light a shove.
“Get out of my face!”

“Oh, why are you gonna make it physical? Because that’s the
way you handle everything? You have serious coping issues.”

This time Devin pointed a finger in his chest and kept her
voice level, even though her eyes still snapped. “Thank you, Captain Obvious. I
know I have issues. No, I would prefer not to lay hands on you at all. I just
don’t like your pepperoni spit flying on me when you’re yelling.” She had lost
the level voice by the end and was punctuating every word with a stabbing poke
to his chest.

Shane retreated a half a step from her pokes. “I don’t need
this abuse. I have better things to do tonight than dig through useless old
files with an ungrateful shrew!”

“Useless? So we’re back to that now? Henry’s lying in a
hospital bed because he lit his house on fire during a senior moment? I’m
imagining things, and it doesn’t really matter who killed that girl three
decades ago even if it was a cover up?” She gripped the back of a dining room
chair to keep herself from flinging something, preferably heavy, at his head.

“Devin, you’re trying to make connections between things
where there just aren’t any. Yes, you are on to something with the Bennett
murder. Probably closer than anyone has ever been. But there are not ghosts
around every corner!”

“And you’re making an awful lot of excuses.”

They stared at each other, fuming in black silence, for a
full second before Shane slammed his now-empty soda can against the table.
Rolling his eyes he repeated, “Impossible!” And pushed past her, headed for the
front door. He snatched his keys off the hall table, and as he shoved through
the screen door he called over his shoulder, “Let me know when you’re done with
the box, and I’ll pick it up.”

She was hot on his heels and got in her last jab as he was
getting in his truck. “Don’t waste your time, since there’s no return on your
investment. I’ll just drop it off at the office when I’m done.”

If he answered, it was drowned out in the roar of the diesel
engine.

Devin was so angry when she slammed back through the screen
door, she spent a good five minutes talking to the empty room about what an
idiot Shane Whitlock was. Twice she picked up her cell phone. Once to call
Marcy and once to call Carter, but thought better of it. Questions about why he
irritated her so much would only serve to irritate her more. In the end she
settled for what always soothed her jagged soul—work.

Slipping the black elastic off her wrist, Devin pulled her
hair back out of her face into a loose ponytail and took her place at the head
of the dining room table, facing the black plate-glass window that overlooked
the street. Normally Henry’s lights would have brought the view to life or even
their lone street light would have added a glow, but on this moonless night,
nothing penetrated the darkness, and Devin could barely make out the lonely
outline of Henry’s empty house across the street.  She tapped her pen on the
legal pad to bring her back into the moment and then smoothed her hand across
the clean surface of the paper. There was something about a fresh legal pad
that felt inspiring. She’d never actually admit that to anyone, because she’d
sound like a fruit cake, but secretly she would always like it.

With a sad smile that at least something was right in the
world, Devin picked up the accordion file that had been with Henry’s and dumped
it out on the table top. Her smile froze as her brow knit and she stared at the
contents in confusion and then understanding formed a block of ice in her
stomach.

Devin ran her hands across the contents of the file
spreading everything across the table, her brain still trying to grasp what she
was looking at. There was a stack of newspaper clippings on the Bennett murder,
every one of them with sections circled or underlined and questions written in
the margins. Bailor Whitlock had pages of notes on what appeared to be his
theories about the murder and ties to the moonshine business and letters from
his exchanges with the detectives on the case.

Disturbed, Devin stared at documents from a criminal record
that, to her knowledge didn’t exist. At least they had not appeared in the
official record when she had pulled it several years before. The most damning
evidence in the file, however, were the pictures—four photographs from the
series Beth had taken the night Laney was murdered—photos
not
in the
evidence cases at the sheriff’s department. There, smiling out at the camera
with his arms wrapped around Laney, was the one person who had always said he wished
he’d been at the Summit the night of the murder, the sixth driver in the
moonshine ring.

Bobby Bennett.

Devin’s hand didn’t hesitate on her cell phone this time. She
punched in a speed-dial combination and waited still frozen in her position at
the table. After four rings, an antiquated answering machine screeched to life.
‘You’ve reached the Eastside Garage. Please call back between…’ She cut the
message short and jabbed in the speed dial code for Mickey’s cell phone. Eight
more rings and no answer. Glancing at the clock on the wall, Devin fired off
the number for the garage again.

I know they’re there. No way they miss a card night.
She was beginning to contemplate getting in her car and driving to Richmond, when Mickey picked up the garage line.

“Devin, honey, where’s the fire? You know it’s poker night.”

She had been tensed and waiting, but hearing his voice was
like pulling a trigger, and she shot to her feet, knocking her chair back and
several stacks off the table. All niceties of phone conversation were thrown
out the window as she snarled at him. “Put him on the phone!”

“What? Who?” Always jovial light-hearted Mickey was about
the only person who could stay completely un-phased by Devin’s wrath.

“
Put...my...father…on...the...phone!
”

There was a slight pause, as if he was motioning to someone.

“Sweetie, if you’re having problems with your water heater
or somethin’, there’s not much he can do from here. You should just call a handyman.”

Devin had to take a deep breath and force it out her mouth,
because she was clenching her jaw so tightly she was in danger of cracking a
tooth. “Tell him I know he was there that night, and he can get on the phone
and talk to me right now, or the black and white I have on the way can just
hold him until I get there. It’s his choice, but he’s got about ninety seconds
until the squad car gets there.”

“Aww geez, Devin! What’d you go and do that for? Hang on.”

Mickey’s voice became muffled as he covered the receiver to
relay her message, but there was no disguising the mayhem that broke loose as
curses flew and chairs were overturned in everyone’s haste to leave. Devin
smiled on her end of the line in grim satisfaction. Mickey and her father
played poker with some unsavory characters, and none of them would want to be
present for an unscheduled visit from the police.

Her father sounded tired but not surprised to be hearing
from her. “That’s pretty cold-hearted to send the cops after your old man,
Devin.”

“No, it was a really good bluff. Apparently we Bennetts are
very talented liars.”

His short raspy laugh was humorless. “Well played, darlin’.”
As he drew on his cigarette, Devin could almost smell from memory the pungent
odor of the unfiltered cigarettes he preferred. The scent would hang on him
like a cloud and mix with the smell of auto grease and Old Spice. Still today
smelling any combination of those scents brought back vivid childhood memories
for Devin, and they were not always pleasant.

“Did you really think I wasn’t going to find out?”

There was a long pause as he exhaled a slow billow of smoke.
“I was hoping. Nobody else has put it together all these years, but I knew as
soon as you started poking around…” He trailed off for another draw on his
cigarette. “I never wanted you in Fenton in the first place.”

“Obviously.” Devin had been pacing the front hall, but she
retraced her steps to the dining room and sat down with her clean legal pad
again. “Alright, so tell me why you’ve been lying all these years.”

“I haven’t been lying.”

“Really? Because my entire life you’ve gotten drunk and
rambled on and on about how you should have been there to save her. So either
you’ve lied to yourself so long you believe it, or Photoshop was secretly
invented about thirty years before its time.” It was taking all she had not to
rip his head off and call him a murdering drunken piece of dirt that had ruined
her life. “Let’s try this a different way. Where were you the night of May 17
^th
,
1964?”

Bobby gave a patronizing sigh, as if he had expected this.
“I was at the Summit.”

“No kidding. How about a little more detail. How long were
you there?”

“From eight p.m. until seven a.m. the next morning. As soon
as Beth couldn’t find Laney, Henry and I started searching for her, and we were
there all night.”

“In no police report does it mention you already being at
the Summit. Why were you not interviewed with everyone else?” Devin was finally
able to switch off her emotions and operate strictly in detective mode.

“My involvement that night was kept quiet.”

Devin rolled her eyes.
Fine. If he wants to play twenty
questions, I’ll play.

“Who kept it quiet?”

“The Revenue Agents.”

“The moonshine cops? Why?”

There was a hint of a smile in her father’s voice. “Yeah,
the moonshine cops. They needed a clean case, and they couldn’t have a murder
connected to their bust, so I disappeared.”

Devin stopped writing and lifted her eyes to stare out the
window at the dark shadows of Henry’s house. Her father was leading her. He
wanted her to think he was involved with his sister’s murder. Bobby Bennett was
looking for some penance for his guilt. She didn’t have the patience tonight
for his self pity.

“Did you have any reason to hurt her?”

“Money, her half of the trust. Kids of dead cops get trusts,
and Laney was about to come into hers. She wouldn’t lend me any to start my own
place.” The answer was too quick, too well-rehearsed.

“Trusts don’t work like that. Since she wasn’t of age, her
money reverted back to the fund, not to an heir. There was no financial benefit
for you in her death.” She paused to give him opportunity to deny it, and when
he didn’t she plunged on. “You’ve been lying for thirty-five years, and for
some reason the entire town seems to be going along with it.” Devin’s voice
seethed with anger. “Everyone was supposedly devastated, but not enough to air
out their dirty little secrets to catch her killer. Even the revenue agents
were willing to let Henry go down for murder to not endanger their case.” She
paused on this point. “Why cover for you and not Henry?”

“Their little bust didn’t go down quite like they planned.
Drivers were wiley characters and most of ‘em got away. Afterwards Henry was so
torn up about Laney, he couldn’t, or wouldn’t tell them who he sent where.”
Bobby paused for another long inhale. “Those agents were so ticked off they let
him swing for it. I was the only link they had to a new supply line. If I was
exposed as their informant and being at the lake, I would’ve been suspected in
the murder. Heaven forbid the validity of their bust be called into question by
a murder investigation. It was better I just disappear that night.”

“So you never said a word? You just watched them beat Henry
down.” Momentum was building in her voice. “You were at the Summit that night.
You were just on the wrong side of the lake. That’s what you regret.”

“Geez kid, I’d hate to see you in a face-to-face
interrogation.”

“Yes, you would. I’m the very best at what I do.” She picked
up her pen and began making notes again. “How did you become involved with the
bust that night?”

Bobby swore under his breath. “Those revenue officers are
the ones that got her killed, bringing all those low-lifes to one place like
that, and that close to a bunch of kids, too. I guess to them she was just
collateral damage.” His voice had become tight, and it was almost a full minute
before he spoke again. “About a month before it all went down I got busted just
across the state line with a trunk full of illegal hooch and a stolen hand gun.
Well it turned out the guy I had bought the gun off of not only stole the gun,
he used it in an assault and armed robbery.”

Devin snorted. “Classy. So how did you go from jail to a
clean record?” She heard the familiar sound of glass clinking. If she had to
guess it was Jack Daniels into a cracked coffee mug.

“Henry. He heard I’d been arrested before they could even
get me to the federal lock up in Richmond. He did some fast talking with his
handlers and got me a deal. I was home in time for breakfast.” There was a
pause as he savored a long swig of his beverage. “It was just lucky that I was
working with some suppliers they didn’t have a line on already.” The pause was
longer this time as he drained the cup, followed by the clinking of the bottle
once again. “Too bad for Laney, they were sadistic animals.”

Devin didn’t have a chance to ask who ‘they’ were, the line
went dead. Apparently that was all her father had in him to share.

She snapped her phone shut and flung it on the table with
enough force to send it sliding to the far end of the dining room. By the time
it hit the floor, she was taking the stairs two at a time, yanking her t-shirt
off over her head as she went. The shirt flew towards the bed, coming up short
as she rummaged through the dresser drawers looking for her running clothes.

These people are crazy! You think you’re in happy small
town America, but its all dark secrets and lies and everyone is in cahoots to
keep the ugliness very hush hush.

Devin froze and looked at herself in the mirror as she was
putting her hair up in a ponytail.
Did I just use the word “cahoots”?

“Aaargh! I hate this place!”

Devin had run for miles and had finally exhausted her anger
to an irritated frustration. Despite it being close to ten o’clock at night, it
was still a humid ninety degrees, and she was dripping. A cold shower should
calm her down the rest of the way. Her mind was still twisting with new
discoveries. After all this time spent grieving, her father and Henry held the
keys to solving the murder in their secrets. There was really no mystery, just
no justice. How could they have stayed silent while a killer walked free? Venom
started to pour into her mind once again as she considered the wasted time and
emotion.

Even consumed in her thoughts, Devin’s senses began to
tingle as she closed in on the house. Slowing her pace, she scanned the
shadows, wishing she’d taken the time to turn on the porch light before she
left the house. It took only seconds for her eyes to adjust and locate the dark
figure in the far corner of the porch. It emerged and leaned against the front
railing as she reached the driveway. Adam.

“Skulking around in the dark could get you shot.” She stood
at the bottom of her porch steps with her hands on her hips, still panting a
bit from her anger and her run.

“Going running in the middle of the night is going to make
you someone’s hood ornament. And I was not skulking, I was waiting patiently. It’s
not my fault you don’t have any security lighting.”

“I’m lucky the place has indoor plumbing.” She collapsed on
the top step. It might be his fault that she wasn’t in a cold shower right now,
but it was not his fault that she was having such a bad evening. Adam laughed
at her sour face and sat down next to her. His coral polo shirt and blue jeans
looked freshly pressed.

How does he look so crisp and cool in this heat and I
continually look like day-old wilted spinach?

“So what’s the reason for the midnight run? What’d Shane do?”

She grinned as she leaned over to rest her elbows on her
knees. “As obnoxious as he was this evening…this is not Shane’s fault. I’m
finally getting somewhere in this investigation, only to find out that it could
have been solved years ago, if everyone hadn’t lied to cover their own skins.”

Devin filled him in on what she had discovered so far and
how the pieces were coming together. Most importantly she told him of her
father’s lies.

“You think you’re father had something to do with his
sister’s murder?” Adam too was leaning his elbows on his knees and brought his
finger tips to his lips in thought.

She folded her hands together and studied the sidewalk below
them. “I think what my father was involved with had something to do with her
murder.”

Before Devin could elaborate on her theory anymore, the
shifting of a diesel engine broke the stillness of the neighborhood. She
cringed. “No matter what I do to him, he keeps coming back for more.”

Adam was still laughing when Shane parked his truck in
Devin’s driveway. Shane eased up the sidewalk, managing to look sheepish and
scowl at Adam at the same time. “What are y’all doing sittin’ in the dark?”

“Discussing the case.” Adam answered honestly.

“Making out.” Devin kept her voice completely serious.

Adam looked shocked for a moment, then threw his arm around
Devin’s shoulders with a huge smile. “We’ll go with her answer.”

Shane’s scowl deepened and shoved his hands in his pockets
like a pouting child. “Did you find anything useful in the box?”