Devils Among Us (Devin Dushane Series Book 1) (24 page)

Adam was already shaking his head. “I respect how hard you’ve
worked on this, but you have no physical evidence. This is all just psycho
babble.”

“Care to make it interesting?” she asked. He just arched an
eyebrow in response and remained quiet. “I’ve got a hundred bucks that says we’ll
have a piece of physical evidence and will have identified the killer within
two weeks.”

“You seem awfully sure of yourself. Do you know something I
don’t?”

“Let’s just say that my intuition is starting to buzz, so
it’s a pretty safe bet that we’re closing in.”

Adam leaned his elbow on the table covering, his mouth covered
with his hand to hide his smile. “Great, more hard facts.”

It was after nine o’clock when Devin pulled into her
driveway. She got out of the Mustang and glared at the patrol car across the
street. The deputy just gave her a little salute of a wave, which she returned
grudgingly. Adam had lingered when she dropped him off at his truck. If he had
been hoping for a warmer good-bye, he went home disappointed.

Unlocking the front door, Devin was glad she had stopped by
after her spa visit to put Bo in the backyard. Otherwise it would have been a
very long day for the pooch locked in the house. She imagined he was pretty
hungry, though. She eyed the Styrofoam box containing her leftovers from
dinner. The box was balanced precariously on top of Beth’s photo album in the
crook of her left arm. If she made it all the way through the house, Bo could
eat on the back stoop, if not, he could eat wherever the scraps fell.

Somehow she made it to the kitchen and dumped everything on
the kitchen table and hit the light switch as she pulled a diet soda out of the
fridge. She popped the top to the can and threw her hip into the heavy antique
door.  It slammed shut with a thud, and was echoed by the sound of the soda hitting
the floor, dumping its contents across the linoleum. Devin’s intuition had been
tingling since before dinner, but now she just felt an icy cold that swallowed
her in the instant before a surge of adrenaline and power took over. The
outside of the backdoor window was streaked with blood, a lot of blood.

She reached into her bag and got a secure grip on her Glock
before killing the lights in the kitchen. Briefly it crossed her mind to go
back out front for the deputy, but the thought left her as quickly as it came.
She had no desire to lose any time backtracking for help when the possibility
of catching the perp could be right beyond her back door. Easing along the
cabinets Devin tried to scan the yard through the streaked bloody window, but
seeing very little she, hit the switch for the floodlights and cracked the door
open. Cooling congealed blood ran thickly down the steps as if it had been
dumped out of a bucket. Bo’s lifeless body was laid out at the bottom of the
steps, the white fur of his chest stained scarlet, and the grass around him a
liquid black. Scanning the fenced in yard and finding no one Devin hurtled the
steps.

“Bo?! Come on, Bo!” Landing beside him, she didn’t hesitate
to drop to her knees in the darkened grass and reach for the dog’s head to
check his condition, but his throat had been slit wide open, and his body had already
grown cold and stiff. Her voice came out as a raspy whisper and quavered
slightly. “Ah, Bo, I’m sorry, boy. You didn’t deserve to get caught up in the
middle of this.” She stroked his head in her lap for a moment before laying him
gently back on the grass and then rose to go through the gate to the front.

The deputy on duty nearly broke his neck getting out of his
car when Devin stepped out into the streetlight in front of her house, covered
in blood and carrying her pistol. He thought to radio in before he sprinted
across the street. “Officer needs assistance and possible officer down.” The
echo of sirens could be heard across town before he made it to the backyard.

Devin had gone to bed before all the deputies had even left.
Processing the scene took hours, and she had been emotionally and physically
drained—not that it would be a restful night. The nightmares came fast and
furious.

She was running as hard as she could, the stained
concrete walls of the alleyways flying by. Sweat streamed down her face, and
her lungs burned for oxygen, but she couldn’t let up, not even a little. I have
to save her. There, beyond that chain link fence! Oh my, God the screaming!

If I jump from those crates to the dumpster I can clear
the fence without slowing down. I’m here! I made it, I see her! No! No Don’t!
There’s so much blood!

Devin bolted up in bed, drenched in sweat and gasping for
breath. It had been so real. She’d felt sixteen again. She got up and went into
the bathroom to splash her face. The chill of the water had nothing to do with
her shaking. Looking in the mirror, she could see the window in the reflection
behind her. She made a decision against her better judgment. Returning to the
bedroom, she picked up her cell phone and then stood on tip toes, reaching in
the far back corner of the closet shelf for the lighter and pack of cigarettes she’d
stashed there. Back in the bathroom, Devin shoved the ancient rattling window
pane up and stepped out onto the back porch roof.

Unfortunately, her secret shame was not destined to be kept
a secret, as soon as her bare feet touched the tin roof, she was engulfed in
the beam of a flashlight.   

“Freeze. Show me your hands!”

Devin couldn’t see anything past the light shining in her
eyes, but she knew enough about cops to know that there was a gun drawn on her
right now and that tensions were high, so this was not the time to be cute. She
stood still and splayed her hands out where he could see what she was holding.

“Easy deputy. It’s Detective Dushane. I live here. I’m just
coming out for a smoke.”

The spotlight was instantly jerked off of her. “Sorry, ma’am,
I didn’t expect it to be you coming out of a window.”

If her nerves weren’t so wrecked from the nightmare, Devin
would have laughed. She managed a weak smile instead. “No apology necessary. You
were just doing your job. Most normal people don’t climb out of their windows
in the middle of the night to smoke. I’m just ashamed of my dirty little habit
that I can’t kick, and I should have known there would be an officer in the
yard. My fault.”

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she could now make out
the deputy’s silhouette in the moonlight as he holstered his gun.

“I’ll be checking the perimeter of the yard if you need
anything, ma’am.”

It was a small yard, it would take all of thirty seconds to
walk around the whole fenced-in area, but she appreciated that he’d stand on
the other side to give her some privacy. After several long, slow drags, she
flipped her phone open and checked the time. Three forty-three a.m. It was
pushing midnight in LA, but it was the off-season, so there was a good chance
he’d be up. Carter answered after two rings, but the noise on his end was
deafening.

“Devin? Hang on, I can’t hear a thing!
Just hang on
.”
After quite a bit of shuffling, some yelling, and a slamming door, he was back
with relative silence in the background. “Baby girl, you all right? It’s the
middle of the night there.”

“I’m so-so. Where are you, a club?”

“Close, a party at some rap mogul’s house.” He paused for a moment
listening. “Are you
smoking
? Don’t lie. I can hear you exhaling the
crap.”

She smiled, laying her head back against the siding of the
house. “Carter, you sound just like your mom. Yeah, as much as I hate to admit
it, I needed a crutch to calm my nerves. I was dreaming about Naomi.” The last
words came out as a whisper, almost choking her.

Carter sighed. “I was afraid this would happen after Greg
died. You blame yourself just like you did for Naomi.”

“Why thank you, Dr. Basketball. I didn’t know you were a
shrink off the court.” Her voice was harsh, but she brought it down a notch,
remembering she had called him. “I’ve been having the dreams, you’re right, but
tonight was so much worse. This psychopath we’ve been dancing with slaughtered
my dog. Slit his throat and threw his blood all over my back door. You see how
that kind of hits home for me.” Another pause for a long draw on her cigarette.

“Geez Devin, why couldn’t you have gone into marketing or
accounting something a little less graphic? Oh wait, maybe it’s because you’re
punishing yourself every day for a multitude of sins you didn’t commit?”

“Are you dating that dancer again that’s working on her
psychology degree? What’s her name, Brandy, Candy…?”

“It’s
Tandy
, yes, I see her occasionally, but that
has nothing to do with this conversation. You’re changing the subject. When did
you even get a dog?”

She stubbed out the last of her cigarette and tried to
resist the urge to light another. “He wasn’t really mine. I was just keeping
him until my neighbor got home from the hospital.” Devin stopped short and
groaned. With all the insanity of the evening she hadn’t called Henry. What was
worse, she’d forgotten that she was supposed to pick him up from the hospital
in the morning. She was not a crier or a whiner, and she was not going to start
now, but she did wail into the phone.

“What am I going to tell Henry?  He’s had this dog for
twelve years. It was practically the only family he had. This’ll be a great
conversation. ‘How are you feeling, Henry? How’s the heart? By the way, I let
someone butcher your dog in my backyard.’ Oh yeah, it’s going to go
swimmingly.” She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her forehead on
one. “My life is a minefield of horrific disasters. Can you imagine if I
combined this with drugs or alcohol? I’d be dead by now.”

 “I don’t know how you’ve survived until now.” Carter’s
laugh held no humor. “How’s the investigation going? Any progress there?”

“I think so.”

“Okay, the world is about to tip off its axis. I’ve never
heard you so unsure when you’re working a case. Girl, what is going on in your
head?”

“This is a really rough case. It’s bloody, and it’s
personal. There are leads and movement, and we’ve been uncovering information
and secrets that were never brought to light before. It’s just a matter of
where it goes. The one detective here in Fenton who’s backed me up told me last
night that he thinks I’m cracked and leading everyone on a wild goose chase.”

“He said that to you?” Carter’s voice became quiet and tight
with anger.

“He meant it in the best possible way. What worries me the
most is, what if he’s right? The pace I’ve kept all these years, and now Greg’s
death, topped off by this case—maybe I’ve burned out, lost my touch.” It was
the scariest thing she’d ever said, but giving it to Carter to share with her,
made the burden so much lighter.

“Devin, I will one day have to give up playing ball. The
time may even come when I have to put my mama in a nursing home, but I will
never,
ever,
live to see the day when you have lost your touch to solve
cases. That’s like saying Willy Wonka forgot how to make chocolate or Dr.
Doolittle has lost the ability to speak to animals. You are the very best at
what you do, period.”

She finally regained a light chuckle. “Okay, I get your point.
You believe in me. Dr. Doolittle? Really? You have seriously lived in LA too
long, and you’re starting to scare me.”

“Maybe you should come check on me. Or, even better, why
don’t we take a vacation? A real one that doesn’t involve a criminal investigation.
Costa Rica, maybe? Someplace with a great beach. I think you would love surfing
lessons.”

Devin finally laughed out loud. He’d have the travel agent
on the phone as soon as they opened no matter what she said. Heck, it was LA—he
might have a twenty-four hour travel service. “As long as there’s a spa, I’m
in. I had no idea how much I would enjoy that. Thank you.”

“Sometimes you just need to trust that I know what’s best
for you, and right now you need to try to get some rest. Exhaustion only makes your
nerves raw.”

“All right. I’m on my way back to bed, but Carter, don’t
book me on any trips for three or four weeks. I have the IAB hearing coming up
in two weeks, and I have to go back to Richmond to meet with the mayor.”

“…and you want to finish what you’ve started” He knew her
mind as well as his own, maybe even better. “I love that Internal Affairs is
investigating you for the same case that the mayor is giving you a commendation
for.”

“It is an election year.” Devin stretched her legs out and
breathed in fresh summer air rather than any more smoke. “Go back to your party.
I’ll call you in a couple of days.”

“Be careful for once and try not to get any new scars.”

She snorted in response. “Luv ya.”

“Love you, too, baby girl.”

For the rest of the night, Devin dreamt of tropical beaches
and warm surf, but in the distance, there was always a pair of dark-haired
girls she could never catch up with.

Devin showered with the sunrise. It was one of the few
mornings since she had been in Fenton that she would not be going for a run.
The idea of having a patrol car follow her as she jogged was a bit off-putting
and there was no way the deputies would let her go alone. It felt like a
vacation, so instead of normal work attire, she chose cargo capris and her
favorite deep purple v-neck tee and sneakers. There would be a lot of hours
spent in the conference room command center, plus she had promised to chauffer
Henry this morning. It would be best to be comfortable.

With everything that had been going on, she had neglected to
go to the grocery store, so her normal breakfast of yogurt or fruit was out.
After a little scrounging, Devin settled for a peanut butter sandwich on wheat
bread. At least it had protein and fiber, she reasoned. Taking it into the dining
room, she sat down to look over the report in the file concerning Michael
Leary.

The interview was fairly simplistic—he had been extremely
distraught the first twenty-four hours after the discovery of the body and
difficult to question, so only the basics were covered. Once it had been firmly
established that Michael had been nowhere near the Summit that night and had no
knowledge of the events there, the police had confirmed his alibi and cut the
interview short in light of his grief. The report stated that Michael had been
working in the wood shop at the high school the night Laney was murdered. He
had been there from seven o’clock p.m. when he got off work and left at eleven-thirty
p.m. His alibi was confirmed by the Gibson family, who had a clear view of the
school and parking lot and the 911 call he made at ten o’clock concerning the
harassment by Dean Delluca and friends.

Devin tossed the file onto the table. Michael had never been
asked about the state of his relationship with Laney. Did he know she was
getting ready to end things? But what difference did it make if he was halfway
across the county all night?

She paced to the front window as she mulled over her
thoughts and jerked the drapes open a little impatiently, causing the deputy on
the porch to jump in surprise.

Oh, for heaven’s sake! How many of them are out there?
Devin considered yanking the curtains shut again, but she really wanted the
fresh morning light, and she wasn’t willing to spite herself for her pride this
once.

Taking a seat at the table, she pulled out Beth’s photo
album, hoping she could kill an hour until it was time to pick up Henry. The
pictures turned out to be more fascinating than Devin had imagined. The outfits
and the cars in these pictures were terrific. Small-town America in 1964 was jumpin’ and jivin’. The clothing that wasn’t tight was swinging on the
dance floor. The variety of shined-up chrome and hot-rod engines in the parking
lot would have any gear head drooling. It was too bad the cars were only in the
background; Devin would have liked some close-up shots.

Devin had a fantastic time breaking down the photos. She had
taken a psychology class that focused strictly on analyzing postures,
mannerisms and what was called physical psychology. They had spent hours reviewing
celebrity couple photos determining who was on the rocks and who was for real.
It had been a blast.

It was amazing what people gave away about their feelings
for a person in how they posed for a photo.  Some of the girls that posed with
Laney were showy in their poses and distanced themselves from her physically,
showing coldness or jealousy behind a mask of friendship. Most of the guys
tried to pull her into a closed hug, showing the desire for real affection, but
she would lean her head out or angle her body to create space, marking it as a
platonic embrace. The only photos that were different were with Henry and
Bobby. With her brother, Laney had wrapped her arms around his waist, and he
had one arm slung around her neck, with his head leaning down on hers. Their sparkling
smiles were enticing and mischievous—gorgeous siblings ready to stir things up.

Looking at the picture of Henry and Laney, it would be
ridiculous to say they weren’t in love. Henry stood behind Laney with his arms
wrapped around her and his cheek pressed to her forehead. Her signals could not
have been clearer—her hands were folded over top of his sealing his embrace and
her face was turned in and up to meet his. The depth of their warm tender
smiles was more for each other than the camera. Devin wondered if it would do
more harm than good to make Henry a copy of the picture.

Glancing at her watch, Devin realized she had spent more
than an hour looking at the album. She was going to have to make time on the drive
to the hospital. Clearing the porch steps in three bounds, she was halfway to
the Mustang before the deputies realized she was out of the house. Tossing her
bag onto the passenger seat, she motioned to the patrol car to kill the engine.
Looking over the top of her sunglasses, she took turns addressing the two
deputies.

“I do not need an escort wherever I go, especially when I’m
driving. Watching the house is a different matter. Since it is now a double
crime scene, I will tolerate your presence for now.” Devin paused to penetrate
them with her harshest most frightening stare, and once she had sufficiently
chilled the air she continued. “Don’t push your luck.”

The Mach 1 pulled away alone.

Devin decided she didn’t want to tell Henry about Bo in the
car. Partly because she wanted to be face to face and be able to comfort him,
and partly she wanted to still be at the hospital if he didn’t take the news
well. They went to the same bench that Shane had tried to use as protection
from her the first night they’d come to the hospital. Though Henry was shocked
and pale, his heart held out well at hearing the news, and he actually
surprised Devin with his vigor.

“You need to get away from here, Devin. This monster is on
your trail, and you’re not safe. It’s like he can have Laney all over again.”
His clear blue eyes were lit with a ferociousness she had not seen. “Let Adam
and Shane finish the case, or the state police, but please, Devin, get as far
from here as you can. Not even Richmond. Go see your friend in LA.”

Devin felt tears stinging her eyes as she threw her arms
around Henry, careful not to jostle his left arm that was still in a sling.

This town is making me way too emotional!

“Henry, that is very sweet, and I appreciate your concern. I
am very capable of taking care of myself if I meet up with this piece of
trash.” She grinned and patted his leg. “Plus, my house looks like a donut shop
right now. Wait until you see it—there are sheriff’s deputies everywhere.”

Henry grabbed on to her hand and squeezed it. “Little girl,
you may be a very astute detective, but when it comes to people who care about
you, I’d say you are absolutely blind.”

Adam had hired a cleaning crew to start on the damage in
Henry’s house, so what he returned to was not as devastating as it could have
been. He surveyed the shell of the kitchen and the smoke and water damage
through the rest of the house in silence. Returning to the carport, Henry took
a seat in his favorite lawn chair and grinned as Devin handed him a glass of
iced tea she had attempted to make.

“Well, you said I needed new carpet.” He took a deep swig of
the tea and grimaced. “This is absolutely horrible. I think I’d rather have one
of your tree bark bars.” Her laugh rang out over the quiet street.

“Henry, I was looking at a photo album from 1964 this
morning, and I was admiring the cars. They were really something spectacular.”

“Yes ma’am, they were. Your daddy raised you with an eye for
cars.” He waved his hand up and down the street. “Today all the cars look the
same, modeled out of the same plastic cookie cutter. I can’t tell the
difference in a lot of them, but back then you made your car your own. It was a
statement about who you were, and it better be fast.”

“The louder and flashier, the better, right?”

“Heck yeah, unless you were running moonshine.” He gave her
his famous crooked grin. “Since I’m talking to an officer of the law, that’s
just hypothetical, of course.”

Devin matched him smile for smile. “Oh, of course.”

“I even knew of cars that threw flames, and that was before
all this NOS they use in street racing these days.”

“So I’ve heard. That’s actually what Dean…” Devin trailed
off staring across the street at nothing in particular. She had been about to
tell Henry about Dean using his car to harass Michael at the school when it hit
her that Dean had said that Michael’s car was parked under the windows of the
shop,
not in the parking lot.

“Devin, are you all right?”

“Perfect. Henry, where is the shop at the high school? Or at
least, where was it in 1964?”

Henry struggled to keep pace with her change in conversation.
“It’s still in the same place, to the left, on the back side of the building.”

Devin’s adrenaline was pumping so hard she could no longer
stay in her chair. “The Gibson family that lived near the school would they
have been the ones on top of the cemetery hill?”

“They were the only Gibsons in town. What are you all
stirred up about?”

She shook her head in disbelief. “It was a false alibi.
Henry, I’ve got to go. I’ll check on you later.” With that she started to
sprint across the street, but pulled up halfway. “Henry! What did Michael Leary
drive?”

“A ’58 Plymouth Fury.” With that, he was left shaking his
head in her wake.