Devils Among Us (Devin Dushane Series Book 1) (9 page)

“Would you tell me about her? Dad spoke very little about
her or Fenton when we were growing up.”

“Goodness, how do I explain Laney to you?” Beth sank back in
her rocker with a sigh. “That’s like trying to move a mountain one teaspoon of
dirt at a time.” Suddenly she clasped the arms of the chair as her honey eyes
brightened with an idea. “I know just the thing. You wait right here.” And with
a pat to Devin’s knee she was off into the house only to return moments later
with a high school year book, its cover darkened by time.

Beth was really shining with excitement now. “This was
Laney’s yearbook from junior year. Aunt Carol gave it to me afterwards as a
keepsake.” She was scanning through some of the signatures on the inside cover.
“I think looking at what people wrote to her and the kinds of people she hung
out with will give you a good idea what Laney was like. Here, look at these
two.”

The very top inscription on the page was from the principal
congratulating Laney on her academic achievements for the year and being an
upstanding example to the student body. Right below it was a comment from “The
Weasel” congratulating her on having an upstanding rack and what he’d like to
achieve with her student body sometime.

Devin and Beth laughed until they cried. As expected Beth
pulled a tissue out of her skirt pocket to dab her eyes. “That’s the way it was
with Laney! She got good grades and was enough of a straight arrow that
teachers loved her, but what they didn’t know was that she was the one smoking
in the girls’ room in between classes.”

Beth flipped over a few pages to candid shots of juniors and
seniors, it seemed like Laney was in every other picture.

“Look, she had no bias as to who her friends were, that
picture she’s in the jock hall with all the athletes but there she’s walking on
the arms of Fred and Milton Polk. Those boys were dirt farmers, only in school
about 70% of the time because they were helping their daddy on the farm. You
could barely get two sentences out of them, Milt especially, because he had
such a bad stutter. Most Fridays they’d be huckstering in the city selling
eggs, milk, vegetables, anything the farm produced. The kids in school all
thought they were better than the Polk boys, but not Laney. Every Monday
morning she’d find them in the cafeteria and plop down in one of their laps and
ask ‘hey, Freddie what are those crazy city folks payin’ for eggs these days?’ And
he’d tell her the price, and then she’d roll her eyes and say ‘Milt, when are
they gonna learn to just buy the chicken?’ Then she’d tell them some crazy story
about her weekend, every word of it true, too.” Beth was shaking her head, reveling
in the memory.

“What about this one? Who’s that?” Devin pointed to a
picture of Laney with another girl at what looked to be a library counter,
leaning up on their elbows with their shoulders pressed together. Laney looked
bubbly and sparkly, but the other girl seemed very unsure of the pose and her
smile was timid.

“That is another great example. Her name was Eloise Faulkner;
she moved to Fenton that year and was a total outcast. Her parents had died in
a car crash so she was living with her aunt and uncle that ran Gibson’s Funeral
Home, for cruel teenagers that’s creepy. Plus she just seemed to be obsessed
with death. I guess today you’d call her a ‘Goth’, she dressed in black, always
wore that heavy silver cross necklace, used to hang out in the cemetery making
drawings and tracings of headstones just enough to make her odd in high school
culture. Pair all that with being awkward and shy and it’s social suicide. Luckily
for Eloise she was partnered with Laney as a library assistant. They used to
have these in-depth discussions on Shakespearean literature and nineteenth-century
poets. I think Eloise even planted flowers on Laney’s dad’s grave.”

Devin pulled back to get a better look at Beth’s face to see
if she was pulling her leg. Apparently not, because her face was still serene
as she relived the memories.

“That is creepy.”

“Hmm, you would think, but Laney loved it.” For the briefest
second Devin heard something in Beth’s voice slip. Bitterness? She remained
quiet and continued to watch Beth’s face as she spoke, but it gave away
nothing. “If I remember correctly it was a thank you. Devin had pushed Eloise
into trying out for the Science Bowl Team and she made it. Although Michael
hadn’t been too happy, apparently Eloise was very good, and he almost lost his
spot on the team.”

The cousins talked their way through the morning like old friends,
catching up on years of births, deaths and achievements of all kinds. Devin was
especially thrilled with stories of her father’s childhood. They ended their
visit with Devin promising to come back the following night for dinner and to
meet Beth’s husband, Peter.

“Oh, and when you come back tomorrow, I can show you my
photo album. I had a new camera the night…” Her voice faltered and softened. “That
night. And I took all kinds of pictures.”

“Thank you Beth, but I’ve already seen them. There’s a set
in the case files.” Devin set her glass down on the tray and stood up to leave.

“I had forgotten that. The police made a copy of all the
pictures on the roll in hopes of finding a clue. I guess that never worked
out.”

Devin once again thanked Beth for her hospitality and
promised to come back the next day as she headed off the porch. Halfway down
the steps she stopped and turned back to Beth.

“Could I ask you one more question?”

Beth smiled the smile that turned her eyes into liquid
honey. “As long as it’s not my age or weight.”

Devin grinned back at her. “No, nothing like that. I was
just wondering…lots of people lose siblings in horrific ways. Why do you think
Laney’s murder affected my father so profoundly?”

Beth’s expression became serious, and Devin thought she saw
pity in her eyes. “Guilt. Bobby has always felt responsible for his sister’s
death.”

When Devin was back in her car, she fished her cell phone
out of the glove box. As she headed back across town to her Grandmother’s house,
she dialed the number for the sheriff’s office and crossed her fingers. It paid
off.

“Sheriff’s Office, Detective Lentz speaking.”

“Adam! Thank goodness. It’s Devin. I was sure Shane would
answer the phone.” She breathed her relief into the phone. She needed
information right now, not bad pick-up lines.

“Hey, Devin. It’s always nice when a pretty lady wants to
talk to you.”

Devin groaned internally. Not you, too! But her despair was
short-lived. Adam cut right to the chase.

“What can the Fenton Sheriff’s Department do for you today?”

“I need a last-known address for an individual I believe has
a record.”

“Hang on one second Devin, let me get this computer going.”
She heard him feverishly hitting keys in the background as she waited. “Okay,
what’s the name?”

“It’s Dean Delluca. I don’t have a middle name…” Adam’s bark
of laughter cut her off.

“Oh yeah, he’s got a record.” She heard a flurry of key
strokes again. “Okay, here it is, Delluca, Dean Allen, 201 Eagle Street. I’ve
also got the current employer listed as Wilsons Tire and Auto on North Street. What else do you need?”

As Devin pulled up to a stop sign she scribbled the
information onto the legal pad she kept on the seat beside her, then she tapped
her pen on her leg as she thought. She glanced in her rearview mirror to make
sure no cars were behind her, she needed to sit a little longer at this intersection.

“What’s his sheet look like?”

“Oh, where to begin? He’s got half a dozen misdemeanors, a
couple of felonies ranging from grand theft auto to armed robbery. He’s even
got a charge in here for transporting illegal alcohol across state lines.”

Devin’s brow knitted as she checked her mirrors again. “What
does that even mean?”

She could hear the grin in his voice. “It means he was
running moonshine.”

“Oh, I don’t see a lot of that in Richmond.”

His laughter was now barely contained “I’d wager you don’t.”

“All right, funny man, when was his first arrest?”

“It was in June of 1964, he robbed a convenience store at
gunpoint.”

There was a silence for a moment as both of them absorbed
that piece of information. A horn blaring broke their concentration. Devin
waved an apology to the car behind her and gunned her mustang through the
intersection.

“Adam that was the month after Laney Bennett was murdered. 
Are you sure he used a gun and not a knife?”

“I’m sure, the witnesses described a .45 and he had it on him
when they caught him. Hang on, let me see if he had anything else on him.”
Devin pulled into a parking space at the bank on the corner to avoid an
accident while Adam banged away on his keyboard. “Okay, he did have a knife
when he was arrested, but it was only a 3” pocket knife.”

“That doesn’t really help. I’m sure it was common then to
carry a pocket knife, and that doesn’t match the description of the knife that
was used to kill Laney. Thanks for your help Adam, I’ll go talk to this Delluca
in the morning, see what he has to say about his relationship with Laney at the
time of her death.”

“Relationship? I thought Laney was seeing someone else at
the time.”

“She was, but she was also seen arguing with Delluca in the
weeks leading up to her murder. It makes sense—he missed the freedom he had
with Laney before he was saddled with a wife and child so he takes out his
jealousy and frustration on her.” Devin put the cap back on her pen and tossed
it into the ashtray. She was a closet smoker and trying to quit. Her theory was
if the ashtray was used for other purposes, she would be less tempted to smoke
in the car and stink up the very expensive leather upholstery.

“Well, you’ll have to wait until Friday to talk to him. His
parole officer’s report says he’s at Smith Mountain Lake with his family until
Thursday night.” Adam approached his next statement carefully, likely not
wanting to incur her wrath. “Devin…be careful, this Delluca is a pretty rough
character.”

He could almost picture her devilish grin as she answered. “So
am I, but if it makes you feel better I’ll be going to his work, with
witnesses.”

“Alright, that does make me feel better. Before I forget I
should tell you that the Sheriff is looking for you.” He was trying to disguise
his laughter with a stern tone, but it wasn’t working.

“Ugh. Do I want be found?” She had been ready to back out of
her parking spot, but now her hand was frozen above the gear shift.

“No, I’d say not. Something about a bar fight and setting an
example…” He broke off in restrained laughter that he tried to pass off as
choking. In the background she could hear falsetto karate cries. “Devin I’ve
got to go, good luck.” He was able to gasp out before he hung up. Devin frowned
as she snapped her phone shut and dropped it on the seat.

How do I just know that Shane was involved in that?

She was so irritated with the juvenile maturity of boys that
she hit the gas a little too hard as she pulled out and barked the tires. No
sooner than letting off the gas, blue lights were flashing behind her.
Come
on! I wasn’t really even speeding!
She was fishing her badge and I.D. out
of her bag when a deep southern voice came through the window.

“Well, well, well, you’ve made quite a stir in our little
town Ms. Devin.”

Crap.

 “Afternoon Sheriff. What can I do for you today?” She was
playing it very sweet and innocent.

“There was a little disturbance last night that I need to
hold someone accountable for.”

Sweet and innocent went out the window. “Now wait just a
minute. That was self-defense. I’ve got a half a dozen witnesses that will say
so.” She held one finger up. “Plus I gave the jerk three warnings to take his
hands off of me, and I warned them that I was a police officer.” She held up a
second and third finger for each of her points and began to shake all three at
the sheriff like she was scolding a child. “I am not the one going to jail for
this.” Devin was mad, and when she got mad, she tended to get loud. That’s hard
to miss in a town the size of Fenton.

Sheriff Bittner held up two hands and backed away a step.
“Hold on, nobody said anything about going to jail. I don’t doubt that those
idiots deserved every lick they got, but I can’t go around condoning bar fights
and vigilante justice.” Now that he could see she was calmer he leaned down,
putting his elbows on her door and pushing his hat back. “I’ve already talked
with the boys and they’re going to be doing some community service. I think
it’s only fair that you do the same.”

Fire flew back into Devin’s eyes. “If you think I’m going to
pick up trash on some highway with those creeps, you’ve got another thing
coming…”

He interrupted her in a soothing voice. “Just calm down, I
had something a little different in mind for you. A ‘punishment’—” he raised
his hands to make quote marks in the air “—that’s not really a punishment and
does some good in the community.”

Devin’s mother used to say she was born suspicious. She
folded her arms across her chest. “What did you have in mind?”

“You’re in town for at least eight weeks, right?”

She scowled at him. She wanted to say no. “Yes, I’ll be here
at least eight weeks. Why?”

“Good!” He clapped his hands down on the door frame. “I want
you to teach a six-week course in women’s self-defense.”

Her arms dropped as her mouth fell open. “What? I don’t have
any experience teaching” She had
not
seen this coming.

“You’ll be great, and it’s a free class, so nobody’s going
to complain.” He could see she was about to refuse, so he tried a new angle.
His voice sobered as he looked her in the eye. “Devin, there is a real need
here. Crime from the city moves closer to us all the time and people here live
like we’re on some fifties sitcom. These women and girls are not cautious and
they’re certainly not prepared to go out in the world. Someone’s going to get
hurt if we don’t do something.”

It worked. He had pushed all the right buttons. “Fine. I’ll
do it.”

“Great!” He smacked one palm down on her car again and she
scowled. He quickly pulled his hands back and rested them on his belt. “I’m
sure you can use the gym at the high school, and Lentz and Whitlock will help
you with anything you need.” He was backing away from the car prepared to make
his escape. She leaned out the window and stopped him.

“I have one condition!” She held her index finger out the
window. “The Haller and Dillon girls are required to attend the class.”

A wide grin split his face. “Done! Miss Devin, you have
yourself a nice day.” As he walked back to his squad car, he called over his
shoulder. “And slow down!”

Devin dropped her head back against the seat, pondering what
had just happened.
Well I wanted to stay busy this summer, right?
She
had to laugh at herself as her engine roared to life and she pulled away from
the curb.

Devin tossed the keys on the kitchen table still grumbling
when she got to her temporary home and dropped her bag on a chair. She began
rummaging through the fridge for some lunch and settled on a black-raspberry
yogurt. As soon as she ripped the top off there was a knock at the front door.
She stared at the ceiling briefly. Arrgh! Why am I so popular today? After the
second knock she decided to take the yogurt with her, grabbed a clean spoon out
of the dish rack, and trotted down the hall to the front of the house. Henry
was standing on her porch, looking back across the street to his house. He
jumped when she swung through the screen door
. Odd, I wouldn’t have taken
him for the jumpy sort, he always seems so low key.

“Hey, Henry.” She leaned her hip against the porch railing
and scooped a bite of yogurt into her mouth.

“Hey Devin, I wanted to see if you were okay after last
night, at the bar I mean.” He was studying the peeling grey paint on the cool
concrete under her bare feet.

 “Ohhh, I’m a little sore.” She licked her spoon and grinned
at him. “But I’m not as bruised as their pride. Anyway it was good for me. It
gave my stab wounds a little workout. They held up so I’m going to hit the gym
this afternoon.” She tried to keep her tone light to put him at ease. Devin
could tell from his uneasy stance and refusal to meet her eyes that Henry was
not used to sitting back while a lady was engaged in a bar fight.

“Well that’s good…I guess.” He finally looked up at her face
when she laughed.

“Yes, that is a good thing. Henry, last night was no big
deal—that was barely a warm up compared to working in Richmond.” She wasn’t
looking at him because she was trying to dig the last bite of yogurt out of the
cup.

“How do women eat that stuff?”

When she glanced up at Henry she saw his nose was wrinkled
up like he smelled rotten eggs and he was staring at her yogurt in disbelief. Devin
took her time savoring the last residue of yogurt off the spoon. “Stick around.
I’m going to finish it off with a granola bar.”

“Ughh! Tree bark? That’s even worse!” If it was possible he
looked even more disgusted by this new dietary proposition. “I’m gonna have to
fatten you up with some real food. Want to come over for dinner tomorrow night?
I make a mean country-fried steak.”

It was Devin’s turn to grimace. “Do you make anything that’s
not fried?”

He took a moment to think about it, rubbing his freshly
shaven chin for effect. “Hmm, I don’t fry the collard greens. Although I
suppose you could…” He tried to look thoughtful but the twinkle in his eye gave
him away.

“No, no let’s just leave the greens the way they are. I
can’t tomorrow because I told Beth I would have dinner with them, but I could
do it on Friday.” She arched an eyebrow at him. “Unless you have a hot date
that night?”

“I suppose I could postpone for a few hours. Say five-thirty?”

Devin was glad he had warmed up to his usual relaxed self while
they were talking. She used one foot to push off the porch railing to cross the
porch, but paused in front of him and smiled up sweetly.

“Five-thirty it is. Should I bring the yogurt or the tree
bark?”

“Neither! This a meal of real food, remember?” He reached
out and tugged on a strand of her hair. “But you might want to bring a drink if
you don’t want sweet tea.” With that he sprang off the porch and bounded down
the walk with a much lighter stride than when he arrived.

“Argh! You people and your dead leaves! I will never
understand how you find that refreshing!”

She was standing at the top of the porch steps with one hand
on her hip, the other clutching her empty yogurt container, when he turned. But
his snappy retort died on lips. A warm gust of air wrapped around them,
billowing her hair like a dark satin cloud. He had the look. The look she had
seen on her father so many times. The look of someone that had seen a ghost.