Jaxson's Song (13 page)

“
Well, Kate, I don’t remember asking your permission. You’ll
need a roomie, won’t you? Unless you’re planning to bunk with Lilly
and Chad.” Like Kate, Lindsey put an ugly inflection into her tone
when she said his name.

“
Yeah, right,” Kate snorted. “But that doesn’t mean you’re
uprooting your entire life for me.”

“
For you and Lilly. And if you’ll remember, I didn’t want to
stay in Georgia without you guys, to begin with.”

“
Your whole life is in Georgia.”

“
So…more than six small boxes?”

“
No, six is fine.” She shook her head. “But you’re only
allowed to help pack. That’s it, Linds.”

“
Sure, whatever you say, Kate. So, tomorrow you’re calling a
realtor. What are you going to do tonight?”

“
Tonight?” Kate pulled the front door shut behind her and
headed toward her car, sparing only a cursory glance at the next
wave of storm clouds gathering over the rooftops in the distance.
“Tonight, I’m getting wasted.”

“
I don’t blame you. Text me later, then?”

“
Will do,” Kate said, clicking off, and tossing the phone into
the passenger seat as she pulled her seat belt over her lap and
snapped it into place. The dash clock read 2:45.

Kate shrugged. “It’s five
o’clock somewhere.”

* * *

Jaxson stood on the porch
in shorts, a sequined teal tank top, and a pair of the most
ridiculous flip-flops he had ever seen. He’d scowled when Jake had
shown up earlier in the day, bearing a plastic Walmart sack full of
taupe hosiery and the gaudy footwear. The large plastic sunflower
on the top of each sandal practically obscured his entire foot, and
the flip-flops themselves were made of some kind of hard, clear,
glittery green gel-looking stuff. Then again, after a weekend of
G-strings and heels, overblown hair and wig caps that itched like
hell, what were a couple of plastic sunflowers?

His gaze strayed, again,
to the house next door. Kate’s car sat in the driveway and hadn’t
moved since three thirty that afternoon. Not that he’d been paying
attention. Not that he cared about her comings and goings. The way
she slammed her car door made it impossible not to notice her
arrival. That was all. Earlier, around five, when he and Jake had
been in the dining room, sharing a pizza and splitting a six-pack,
he’d heard music coming from her house. Something loud and pulsing
that wasn’t unlike the crap they played at the club. Kate’s house
had been quiet for several hours now…

He squinted through the
gloom and the lingering clouds that all afternoon had threatened
rain but hadn’t delivered. A faint amber glow shone through the
curtains at damn near every first floor window, but he couldn’t
make out anything of the rooms inside.

Jake’s boot heels thudded
across the porch and Jaxson turned in time to see his uncle sling
an overnight bag across one shoulder and take the porch steps two
at a time. Jake was pushing sixty, but the man’s easy gait still
belied his age.

“
When are you coming back?” he asked, forcibly tearing his
gaze from his neighbor’s house.

“
Gonna miss me, are ya, boy?”

Jaxson snorted.

His uncle sobered. “I’m
only spending a couple of days with your aunt. Three at the most.
If you have any problems…”

“
I won’t.”

Jake was visibly
skeptical. Again, Jaxson’s attention strayed to Kate’s porch, where
a shape shifted and moved in the darkness. His fists clenched and
he started forward only to be brought up short an instant later
when it was Kate’s cat that materialized from the shadowy far
corner of the porch and not some intruder.

Jake raised a brow at
glanced from his nephew to the cat.

“
My neighbor had a break-in last night. I thought I saw
something over there. It was just the cat.”

Jake tossed his duffel
into the back seat of the Buick before walking back to Jaxson and
leaning in close. “I mean it, Jax. Watch your ass.” He lowered his
voice. “Word is, our guy’s finally taken an interest in
you.”

“
Yeah?” Jaxson grunted, trying to appear nonchalant, but
inside, his senses were piqued and instantly at
full-alert.

“
Undercovers tailed him here last night. He followed you home,
circled the block twice after you’d gone in. Keep your eyes and
ears open, boy. He could make a move at any time.”

Jaxson’s pulse rate kicked
up as adrenaline surged through his body. “What makes you so sure
he’ll make a move?”

“
Oh, he’ll come after you all right. It’s only a matter of
time.”

Jaxson shrugged. “Have a
good trip.”

“
Damn it, boy—”

“
I’ll be careful. Happy?”

“
Hell, no.” Jake shook his head. “But it’ll have to do. I’ll
see you on Friday. Don’t forget what I said. You’ve got security,
but they can only move in so close right now, without blowing
cover. I won’t bullshit you, Jaxson; you aren’t well-protected.
That’s why the GPS is so important—”

“
I’ve got it on me at all times.” Jaxson patted the pocket of
his shorts. “If the bastard comes for me, I’ll be
ready.”

Jake nodded reluctantly
and moved away from his nephew to climb into the car. The door
creaked shut with a groan of protest and Jaxson watched his uncle
fire up the engine and back to the end of the drive. Jake idled and
rolled down the driver’s side window to lean out and deliver a
final warning.

“
It’s not
‘
if’, but
‘
when.’”

His steely cop-eyes
studied his nephew one last time and then he was gone, leaving
behind a cloud of exhaust that rapidly dissipated into the muggy
Florida night.

A mosquito landed on
Jaxson’s left shoulder and he felt the slight sting even as he
slapped the insect away. Jesus, but he was getting sick and damn
tired of the bugs in this godforsaken hell pit.

He walked back to his
covered porch and the dubious protection of the Citronella candle
that burned on the white lacquer-and-glass table. He could have
taken a seat at one of the two wide, white wicker chairs that
framed the round table, but instead, he opted to stand. His gaze
roamed over Kate’s house as he considered his uncle’s words. Klein
would come after him. A part of Jaxson, the cynical part, wasn’t so
sure it would be that easy. The bad guy comes after the bait, falls
for the carefully laid trap, the cops swoop in to save the day,
another pervert off the streets, everybody goes home
happy.

His eyes narrowed as he
thought of Roger Klein. The logical side of Jaxson’s brain told him
Jake was probably right. Jaxson hadn’t just been dangled under
Klein’s nose; he’d been painstakingly molded to play the part. In
fact, the level of preparation had been nothing short of eerie.
Jake and some FBI agent whose name he couldn’t remember now, had
grilled and quizzed him on every aspect of the three known victims
in the case, until Jaxson felt like he’d personally known the dead
women.

He knew that Shannon
Blythe had been a nurse, that Allie Kolhom’s mouth had curved up at
one corner when she smiled. He knew that Tanner Reid had been in
the habit of throwing her head back whenever she laughed. Jaxson
had spent so many hours studying the women’s photographs and files…
Files filled with detailed notes generated from countless
interviews with the victims’ friends and families, that he was left
feeling a little surprised that none of the dead women had tried to
make their presence known to him. Then again, why would they? He
frowned and turned his back on Kate’s house. They really weren’t
his concern. Shannon, Allie, and Tanner, they had nothing to do
with him, or he to them. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do for
them, anyway, even if he had been so inclined.

At the end of the day,
they were still dead…and he was still an ex-con. His lips curled
into a self-depreciating expression of mockery. Oh, he would be
ready if—when—Roger Klein came calling, but only because it was in
his best interest to help take the bastard out of commission. Not
because he was some good guy out to avenge the women, but because
he had made a piss-poor decision in doing business with the man,
and now it was time to pay for his error in judgment; one in a
series of many. Then,
if
he lived through this, and
if
he managed to avoid prison,
maybe he would turn over a new leaf. Make an honest living, do the
“
right”
thing,
for a change. Whatever the fuck that even was. But he guessed that
abandoning his illegal gambling ring and giving up the money
laundering business would be a good place to start.
Hell
, Jaxson
snorted,
done and
done
. He’d started his career as a
bookie—no, that wasn’t quite right—technically he’d started out as
an accountant. He’d done some work for different firms, and he’d
made a half-decent living, nothing extravagant, but it had been
adequate. Then he’d taken up with a firm in Brooklyn, worked long
hours, busted his ass, and soon after, he’d been handed what he
thought at the time was the account of a lifetime.

Tony was a long-term
client who ran several successful businesses—and always kept an
extra set of books. He had connections. Soon, Jaxson had
connections too. He handled some business for Tony for five years,
eventually branching out on his own, and dipping his hand into a
couple of lucrative side ventures. Then he’d met Roger Klein, and
agreed to help the man funnel some money from a club Roger owned in
Florida. But the club was just a front for the man’s real money
maker: women. Blonde women. Sometimes he sold them; but the FBI
believed that, more often than not, he killed them. The authorities
were continually collecting evidence and building their case
against the Florida club owner, but the widely held belief was that
Shannon Blythe, Allie Kolhom, and Tanner Reid were just the tip of
the iceberg.

One woman, Jaxson was
never told her name, had been sold rather than killed, and had
managed to escape from the east Georgia house where she had been
held, and was able to point the finger at Roger Klein as the man
who’d kidnapped her, abused her, then sold her. Weeks later, Jaxson
had been arrested—again—and brought up on charges of racketeering.
Again. Only this time the FBI was brought in, and they wanted to
know about Roger Klein and shit like kidnapping, and the murder of
three blonde women. Shit he didn’t go in for, knew nothing about.
And now here he was. Bait for some fucking pervert serial killer.
Jaxson scowled. Just let Roger Klein come after him. The
prick.

He extinguished the
Citronella candle and turned to go inside.

The voices stopped him in
his tracks. Whispers at first, soft but insistent, they grew in
volume as Jaxson’s tension worked its way through his shoulders.
Snatches of words were carried through the balmy night air, bits
and pieces and impressions that he knew from experience no one but
he himself could hear. Most of the words overlapped one another and
made no sense. But a few, he was able to pick out.
Mirrors. Hate. Rage.

Stop me… Stop me… Stop
me
.

A chill raced across his
skin, a cool breeze in an otherwise hot, sticky night. Like a
beacon calling him through the darkness, he turned toward the house
next door, his gaze narrowing as he stared at the place. Kate’s
place.

A light shone from one of
the second floor windows that faced his own house. Jaxson walked to
the end of his porch and watched in grim silence as the curtains
parted, watched as a blonde woman was suddenly there, staring down
impassively at him. She wore a white sundress, and her hair was
smoothed carefully over one shoulder. The other shoulder revealed
the thin strap of her dress on an otherwise bare, tan shoulder. She
was young. She looked like Kate.

She was
see-through.

He’d suspected as much
when he’d seen her at the window earlier, but hadn’t been sure.
Then, he’d assumed it was Kate’s sister. Now, he could clearly see
a dark, mahogany dresser through her entire midsection.

Jaxson’s hands gripped the
porch rail as he locked eyes with the woman. She looked angry, and
in the next instant, her head turned, as if she were staring at
some point behind her insubstantial body. When she turned back to
the window, the smile she gave Jaxson was tight…cruel.

A second later, she was
gone. A few moments after that, the light winked out. The whispers
had subsided; crickets and the occasional swish of tires over
pavement from the main road once again filled the night around
him.

“
Fuck.” Jaxson hung his head. He had to go see if—no. No, he
didn’t. He had to turn around and march his ass back into his own
house. Kate wasn’t his problem. So her house was haunted. So what?
He’d already known that yesterday. And anyway, lots of places were
haunted.