Devils Among Us (Devin Dushane Series Book 1) (26 page)

“We’re not innocent, huh? You mean like your sainted mother,
the murderer?”

Adam’s entire body was shaking with rage. His eyes were
bloodshot and dilated. Devin briefly wondered if he was high.

“Don’t talk about my mother!”

Somehow she forced out a laugh. “Why? She’s the whole reason
I came to Fenton, to find the person who murdered Laney Bennett.” The denial
was already on his lips, but she cut him off in a rush of words. “Eloise
fabricated an alibi for Michael that he didn’t even need. He already had Dean
and the 911 call, but
she
was the one who needed the alibi of being home
all evening. The car I found in the pictures was not your father’s. It was a shiny
black Cadillac from the funeral home. Stood out like a sore thumb among the hot
rods and junkers the normal teenagers were driving.”

“You’re lying!” His voice was more a guttural snarl than
human words.

“What would be the point of that, Adam?”

“You want me to turn against my mother and tell you lies
about her! You’re poison!”

Any sign of the man Devin had known was gone. A switch had
been flipped, and the bashful, child-protecting Adam was gone, replaced by this
brainwashed monstrosity created by Eloise. His wild eyes shifted for a millisecond
when they came back to her his face, smoothed into a calm mask. He lowered the
gun to his side, but still kept it pointed. “We have company Devin. I think
Henry is going to make this a little neater for me after all.”

Details were something that never escaped Devin in high-tension
situations. When the adrenaline flowed, her senses became heightened. For many
people it was just the opposite. They were reckless and unfocused. Luckily Adam
fell into the latter category, because Devin could clearly tell that Henry was
not slowing down to park next to her Mustang; he was gaining speed to make a
charge. The clip was free of her back pocket.  When Adam lifted his hand to
give Henry a welcoming wave and false smile, she transferred the clip to her
left hand and glanced down to locate the exact position of her gun on the
ground.

Devin began the count. One. Adam’s eyes popped in realization
of what was happening. Two. The ferocious sounds of wood cracking filled the
air as the truck struck the first corner of the house. Three.  Devin flung
herself off the porch towards her gun as glass and debris filled the air. Adam
reeled backwards, firing first two shots into Henry’s windshield and then
sending one shot over her head. Scooping the Glock out of the dirt with her
right hand, Devin tucked her head in a roll, slamming her right shoulder hard
into the ground and flipping onto her back.

Years of training made the motions of shoving the clip in
and pulling the action back beyond second nature. By the time she landed, Devin
was bringing the pistol up in a two-handed grip. Adam was drawing down for his
second shot on her, but she didn’t hesitate—three shots, center mass.

For a moment Adam stood frozen with the expression of a
shocked fish that had been pulled from the water and couldn’t get a breath.
Devin stayed where she was on the ground, keeping her gun aimed until he fell
onto his back. Then, somersaulting onto her feet, she quickly approached him,
kicking his pistol far out of reach. She never took her gun off him as she
yelled across the demolished yard.

“Henry! Are you all right?” With the force of the crash, she
wasn’t really expecting an answer.

A shaky voice called back. “Yeah, I’m okay, just a little
beat up.”

Looking down into a face she no longer recognized, Devin
watched the corners of Adam’s blood-spattered mouth turn up in a gruesome
smile. His words came out in gasps of breath.

“You can’t tie me to any of those girls. You have no proof,
and you’re the only one that heard my confession.” He shook with what might
have been a sick form of laughter. “It dies with me.”

Glancing around until she found her phone just two feet
away, Devin leaned down to pick it up and held the screen just inches from
Adam’s face.

“The great thing about cell phones these days is all the
features that don’t require any signal to work, like the ‘record memo’ option. If
I have enough memory available, I can record up to twenty minutes of audio, and
I don’t need any little bars to do it.” She waved the phone. “Want to say hi to
Mom? I’m going play it for her later. Unless I shoot her on sight.”

Adam’s eyes went wide and frantic. He was starting to choke
on the blood in his throat. He had seconds of life left.

“What do you want for her, Adam? Do you want me to end it
quickly, or do you want her to sit on death row for ten years waiting on the
needle? Tell me where she has Casey, and you can choose.”

His lips worked furiously; unconsciously, she leaned in,
closer trying to make out what he was saying. His last words were a barely
perceptible gurgle.

“Go to Hell.”

She stared at the lifeless body of the monster she’d had dinner
with just last night and spoke to the air around her. “Apparently I vacation
there.”

The beautiful song of salvation was playing close by—sirens
were closing in on them.

Devin was helping Henry hobble out of the cab and onto the
tailgate of his truck when the battalion of squad cards and SUVs descended upon
the yard. The dust cloud out of the narrow track of gravel road rolled out at
least a quarter of a mile behind them. Bursting into the clearing, the lead SUV
had to be pushing sixty miles per hour, but while the other vehicles came to a
stop in a tactical formation the lead car slammed to a stop behind Henry’s
truck, and Shane leapt out from the driver’s seat, running to Devin and Henry.

With the instinct of a cop he ran with his hand on his
holster, but he had to get a hand on Devin to know she was still intact. He
reached out grabbing her first by the shoulder, then touching her elbow, moving
to her forehead and finally to her chin, each touch growing lighter than the
last, the whole time his eyes scanning over her for a gunshot or knife wound,
something bleeding or broken. Finding nothing but scrapes and bruises he
finally looked into her eyes and with a look asked the question he couldn’t
with words. Ever so slightly Devin shook her head no, but her eyes had already
told him Adam was dead.

His hand was still resting on her on her chin; Shane slid it
to the back of her neck and closed the distance between them wrapping his other
arm around her waist to pull her tightly against him. When their lips met, all
their fear, relief and denied attraction came crashing together. In the middle
of a crime scene, with deputies running and shouting like a swarm of bees
around them, Shane and Devin were alone in their own world. Devin still had her
gun in hand, but clutched the fingers of her left hand in his hair. Even
Henry’s low chuckle did not disturb them. When the kiss ended only their lips
parted, they leaned their foreheads together as they caught their breath.
Shane’s voice was raw with emotion.

“You can’t do this to me again for a while.”

Devin grinned, but didn’t break away. “In case you haven’t
noticed, this sort of thing happens to me pretty much on a weekly basis.”

“I noticed.” He ran his thumb in little circles under her
ear, he was reluctant to break the moment they were having. Swallowing hard,
Shane pulled away just a few inches. “Casey’s missing.”

“I know. Adam’s mother has her.” She stepped back and laid
her fingertips on his chest. “I need everything you’ve got on Michael Leary and
Eloise Faulkner,
now
.”

Laying his hand over hers he started pulling her towards the
SUV at a run. “Henry, sit tight we’ve got an ambulance on the way!”

Shane leaned in the car door that was still open from his
hasty exit and pulled out the files he had put together that morning. “If only
someone had looked deeper into what happened to Michael Leary sooner, a lot of
this could have been avoided.” Spreading his papers out on the hood, Shane
started going through the timeline. “Okay, Michael starts out at Virginia Tech
but transfers after one year to Old Dominion in Norfolk, where his grades
deteriorate and he appears to have a breakdown. He drops out before the end of
the year. Later though when interviewed, his roommate said that Michael had
trouble with a girl that was stalking him. When he didn’t respond to her
attention she would turn violent, even broke into their room several times to
leave dead animals. He said the last straw was when they came back to the dorm
one night and there was a bloody necklace on his pillow. Michael freaked out, packed
his stuff and was gone in the morning.”

“Did he call the police?”

“No. Nor did he file a restraining order during that year.
For the next eight months, he’s a ghost. There’s not a paycheck, utility bill,
anything in his name. Then in February of 1967, he files in Pennsylvania to
legally change his name to Matthew Lentz.”

Devin nodded along. “It has a much more Pennsylvania Dutch
sound to it if he wants to blend in anywhere in the Keystone State.”

“Exactly. His request is granted, and in the fall of that
year, he enrolls in Gettysburg College. Graduates in ’69, and in the spring of
that year marries his classmate Annette Schuler. They live a peaceful happy
little existence until October 3, 1970, when they are both killed in a
suspicious house fire. The body of their infant son—
Adam—
is never
recovered.” Shane stared at the history of horrors spread across the hood in
agony. “How could I have not seen what he was?” The weight of failure
threatened to crush him as he faced the weighty responsibility of Casey
Bittner’s possible death.

“None of us saw it. Talk about the devil hiding right
amongst us.” Devin shoved his paperwork to the windshield. “Shane we need to
find Casey. Eloise has her, but there is a chance she’s still alive. They were
using her as leverage, so if Eloise doesn’t know that Adam is dead and their
plan is blown, we may still have time.”

Shane came up for air after nearly drowning. “He was going
to take you to her and complete the circle. It has to be the Summit.”

Devin shook her head. “I know Eloise would want to kill me
there, that would be pure poetry, but I just don’t think there would have been
time. Send someone out there though, just in case. I can’t afford to be wrong.”

Shane reached into the SUV and pulled the radio off the dash
to call in to the few deputies left in town. Devin scanned the yard, looking
for possible secret hiding places that they’d missed in all the chaos. Her eyes
fell on the only quiet space—the cliff overlooking the cemetery. Earning her
nickname as the Twister, Devin spun on the spot, redirecting to the back of
Shane’s emergency vehicle and rummaged for a body armor vest that would fit
her. By the time he rejoined her, she was yanking the Velcro straps tight.

“I think I know where they are. Adam said the cemetery held
secrets no one bothered to look for, and that’s how he got here so quickly.”
After checking the clip, Devin holstered her pistol and started jogging across
the yard. “Tell them to search for some kind of tunnel between here and the
lower cemetery or funeral home.”

At the edge, Devin looked down an almost ninety-degree dirt-and-slate
cliff wall to the cemetery fifty yards below. Even if there were footholds, the
ground would disintegrate beneath them if they tried to climb down. Nothing in
the graveyard looked disturbed. Shane was by her side now, and they scanned the
scene together, looking for a clue. At the bottom left of the cliff, a massive
oak tree stood sentry over the quiet collection of headstones, whispering in
the breeze all that it had witnessed. Through the thick foliage the edges of a
medium-sized cinderblock building were barely visible from their vantage point.

“That’s too big for a utility shed.” Devin squinted at its
outline.

Shane turned and called to one of the older deputies that
were close by. “Hey Coop, what’s that building at the bottom of the cliff, by
the oak tree?”

Deputy Cooper stepped over to the pair to take a closer
look. “That’s the old crematorium. They stopped using it back in the early
seventies and now they send all their cremations over to their facility in Dawson.”   

Devin hadn’t heard the last part—she was already moving down
the edge of the cliff, her eyes locked on the target, everything else fading
away as adrenaline sizzled down her spine. Crouching down she surveyed the one
entrance to the building she could see and estimated how long it would take to
get down there if they didn’t find Adam’s hidden pathway. Shane was trying to
talk her, but his voice sounded far away, almost under water.

Popping up off the ground, Devin started taking long strides
backwards. Twenty feet from the edge she paused to meet Shane’s confused gaze. Understanding
dawned in an instant as the color slid from his face.

 “No! Devin,
no
!”

“Casey’s out of time.”

His reaction was much too slow. She was already hurtling
towards the cliff at full tilt. When she reached the edge, Devin planted a foot
and flung herself across the chasm into the waiting limbs of the oak tree. The
first branches slashed across her skin, biting and drawing blood with the sting
of a bull whip. Trying to grab on to a larger limb proved to be much more
painful. Smashing through half of the tree before finding a hold threatened to
break her ribs and crack her skull.

Hanging from her armpits across a moderately stable branch,
Devin studied the aged tar roof twenty feet below her. Shadows danced across
the edges of a foggy skylight—they were definitely inside. The branch popped
and cracked as she shimmied out further to align herself over the skylight.
Hitting the solid glass would be as bad as smashing into concrete. Drawing her
Glock, Devin let go of the branch before it could snap and fired two shots into
the skylight as she dropped through the air. Her body plunged through the cracked
glass of the window, shattering the crystal surface like a diver entering the
water.

Devin came up on her feet with gun drawn and saw her fears
confirmed. An aged Eloise Faulkner stood across the room, dressed in a black
turtleneck and slacks. She still wore the same heavy silver cross necklace of
her teenage years and the long black hair now sported a silver streak. Eloise
had Casey pulled tightly against her using her ponytail as a grip. Tears
streamed down the teenager’s face as a menacing veterinary-sized metal syringe
pressed against her throat. Her voice shook as she whimpered.

“Devin…help me…please.”

“Casey, everything is going to be okay.” Devin gently shook
her head trying to reassure the girl as she saw Casey’s expression transform
with terror.

A smooth southern voice spoke up from just over Devin’s
right shoulder. “Now Miss Dushane, you really shouldn’t make promises you can’t
keep.” The long, polished blade of a butcher knife scraped over the nylon
shoulder of her ballistic vest. “Things are far from okay.”

A rookie mistake—she’d failed to clear the room when she
entered because she was so focused on getting Casey away from Eloise. She
turned her head slightly to glance at the knife and the body attached to it.
Time and a twisted mind had taken its toll, but there was no mistaking those
ghostly grey eyes.

Michael Leary was alive and well and had come home to
Fenton.

“Come, Miss Dushane, put your gun down, or my lovely wife’s
hand might slip, and this poor girl might be embalmed before her time.”

Devin’s head swiveled between the two lunatics before her,
but she did not lower her weapon. “
Wife
? I didn’t know a dead man could
get married, Michael.”

“We’ve had to be creative along the way.” His laugh was
nostalgic, as if he was remembering burnt dinners and sidewalk giveaway
furniture rather than murder, arson and stolen identities.

“Does Adam even know you’re alive?”

“He has such a noble streak, always wanting to do what was
right and just. He got that from his birth mother, Annette. She was Lutheran.”
Eloise let out a low hiss when Michael mentioned his legal wife. “My pet
couldn’t have children, so we had to devise another way to have Adam. It was
easier to create our version of the world, to mold him into the tool I needed, if
he thought I was dead and my memory needed protecting.” He tapped the knife on
Devin’s vest again. “Now, please stop stalling and give me your gun. I assure
you that dying by an injection of embalming fluid is a very gruesome business,
and I don’t think you want to watch your young friend die that way.”

Casey’s terror-filled eyes pleaded with Devin to save her.
All Devin could see was a scared little girl that she was not going to let
someone butcher right in front of her again. Staring hard into Casey’s glazed
eyes, Devin tried to communicate a silent plan. With the slightest movement,
she dipped her chin and closed her eyes for a beat longer than a blink.

“I’ve come so far on this investigation. Please, let me go
to my grave knowing my work was on track.” Motioning her chin towards Eloise
she met the wild stare with feigned terror. “You both caught the taste for
blood, and it was Michael’s plan for the elaborate cover up, but you started
the ball rolling. It was you that killed Laney, because you wanted Michael for
yourself.”

Eloise exploded in righteous fury. “He was all I wanted! And
she took and took for herself…” In spewing her venom she dropped her hand away
from Casey’s neck just an inch, and the girl turned her head away as Devin had
tried to ask her to. Taking advantage of a jealous woman’s rage, Devin snapped
the gun up and rapid fired two precision shots, shattering the syringe and most
of Eloise’s hand.

“Run, Casey, get out of here!”

Eloise’s shrieks of pain echoed of the cinderblock walls,
mingling with Michael’s primal roar of anger. Devin turned on Michael, but he
was too quick and slashed a diagonal red ribbon across her right bicep. He was
well-practiced with a knife and flipped the blade to plunge into the front of
her shoulder right at the edge of her vest. This time it was Devin’s cry that
reverberated in the hollow space. She lost the strength in her arm and
seemingly the control of it as well. The Glock skated across the floor.

If it had not been for the body armor vest, the next plunge
would have been fatal, but the blade bounced off her chest with such force
Michael staggered back a step. Seizing her opportunity, Devin reflexively
pounced, pounding his ribs with such forceful kicks she could feel his ribs
snap. He waved the knife wildly in her direction, searching for flesh to sink it
into. Easily dodging the chaotic hacking, Devin gripped his knife hand and
slammed it against the wall with as much strength as she could summon. She
even, by sheer stubborn will, got her right arm to throw a weak right hook.
Arguably the sound of that knife clanging to the floor was one of the most
beautiful sounds she had ever heard.

A dropped elbow to the neck and a forearm blow to the wind
pipe sent Michael to his knees gasping for air and gave Devin a chance to
glance around for Casey. With her right hand almost completely gone, Eloise had
still managed to tackle Casey around the knees in the heavy metal doorway
leading to freedom, but the young girl was intent on kicking herself free.
Before Devin could move to offer any assistance, a narrow, dark wood door in
the back shadows of the room burst open. Shane, weapon drawn, led the charge
out of the secret passageway they’d finally discovered.