Serenity's Deception (Texas Sorority Sisters Book 1) (27 page)

I
tell you, sister, I heard her. I know what I heard.”

“How many times have I told you, Gladys, you have an overactive imagination. Now sit in that chair and be quiet.” Myrtle pointed to a seat in front of Chief Doggett’s desk and gave her twin sister a no-nonsense shake of her head, the flowers on her hat bouncing and fluttering.

With indifference, Jason watched Gladys do as she was told. The wilted bouquet drooped in her left hand and her purse dangled at her side. She smoothed her long dress over her spindly legs with a trembling hand, making sure her black high-topped shoes barely peeked from beneath the material. With her weathered hand, she tucked a stray, grey curl beneath her hat before arranging the drooping flowers between both hands, placing them in front of her rounded stomach as if she were waiting for a long overdue bridal procession to begin.

Jason, leaning on the edge of Robby’s desk, arms crossed over his chest, continued to watch the Kent twins’ interaction with Chief Doggett. He could tell the chief had already had enough of the women and they had just walked in the door.

“Chief Doggett, my sister would have none of it, except for me to bring her over to the police station. She said she would walk here by herself if I refused to come. I couldn’t allow her to make the trip by herself.” Myrtle looked mortified at the mere thought. “You know a lady out alone and at this time in the evening. Why it’s going on six-thirty. What would people think? No, No sir, it just wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all.”

“What exactly is the problem, Ms. Gladys?” The chief motioned for Myrtle to sit in the other remaining chair facing his as he rounded the battered oak desk and took a seat that creaked beneath his weight.

“Well, Chief Doggett, my sister Myrtle and I were at the cemetery putting flowers on mama’s and papa’s graves. It’s their anniversary, you know. And—”

“Gladys
thought
she heard—”

“Now sister, I didn’t think, I know I heard—”

Jason’s sixth sense kicked in and he moved over to where the women sat but stood behind them, his mind grasping at straws. He wanted to hear what Gladys had to say but knew better than to interrupt while the chief asked questions.

“You did no such thing. You know good ’n well you didn’t hear any voices.”

“I most certainly did. I—”

“Ladies, please.” Chief Doggett’s face was a deep red and looked like he was about stretched to his limits. “Myrtle, if you
please
, allow Gladys to tell me what she heard so we can get to the bottom of this. That way you ladies can go home and have some tea or whatever you have at this hour.”

Myrtle released a loud huff. “
We-ll
.” She gave the chief an annoyed look, pursed her lips, sticking her nose in the air like she didn’t care for the smell in the room.

Robby laughed under his breath, but didn’t look up from his desk.

Gladys gave her sister a face that if she were a child would have no doubt been punctuated with her tongue sticking out. “Like I was trying to tell you. We were heading out to the graveside of our dear mama and papa. I wanted to place some fresh flowers from our garden on their graves. You know, with the abundance of rain our beds are full to bursting. We had some pretty yellow and white daisies, some of Mama’s favorites, and just look at them now.” She held the offending objects up for the chief to see.

Chief Doggett cleared his throat, doing his best to prompt the elderly woman on. “Yes. Go on.”

“Well, when we passed the Loveless crypt I heard screaming. It was Madelyne raised from the grave, I’m sure of it.” She covered her mouth with a lacy hankie, her hand trembling.

“Now, don’t excite yourself, Ms. Gladys, I’m sure what you heard was the old water pump on the fountain going out again. It makes an awful racket when it does.”

“No, Chief. I know that voice. And I heard it. And I tell you it was Madelyne. Something isn’t right. And I won’t go back out there until I know you have checked the crypt. It’s your duty to protect and serve. And I’m demanding you do your duty.” Gladys raised her nose in the air just like her sister did earlier, puffed out her chest, squinted, staring down the Chief.

Jason, already ahead of the chief, didn’t care about protocol. He had a question or two of his own. He moved to where the women could see him. “Pardon me, Chief. I don’t mean to interrupt, but if you don’t mind, may I ask the ladies a couple of questions?”

“Be my guest.” Doggett’s look said,
ask away and while you’re at it, would you get them out of here?

Their identical faces turned and beamed up at Jason. “Good evening, Jason.” They spoke and preened at the same time, a flush coming to their cheeks. They were nosy but harmless.

“Ms. Gladys. Ms. Myrtle.” He inclined his head to both women before asking, “Are you certain you heard a voice coming from the Loveless crypt?”

“Oh, yes.” Ms. Gladys practically glowed with being the center of attention.

“A woman’s voice?” His heart pounded in his ears—
BJ.

“Well, that’s what she says. But I didn’t hear a thing.” Ms. Myrtle gave Jason a smile, raised a brow, nodded in her sister’s direction, then rolled her eyes.

“Your hearing is not what it used to be, Myrtle, and I know what I heard.”

“There’s not a thing wrong with my hearing, Gladys. You’ve got an overactive imagination, that’s all.”

“Ladies.” Fortunately, Jason stopped Gladys before she could start round three. “What would you say to Robby and me driving to the cemetery and checking it out for you?” He looked in the chief’s direction. “I’m sure Chief Doggett wouldn’t mind if we eased your mind on the matter.”

The chief stood. “Yes. Yes, that’s a good idea. Why don’t you do that very thing. In fact, do it now.” He gave a reassuring smile everything would be handled. “Ladies, my officer will look into the matter. Will that do?”

Both women stood, batting their eyes at Jason.

“Thank you. That would be wonderful.” Gladys gave Jason a sweet smile still clutching the miserable looking flowers.

Jason couldn’t be sure, but he thought Gladys give him a wink too.

“You’re such a dear, sweet boy. And when you’ve finished at the crypt, come by the house. I’ll have some wonderful strawberry bread that will be waiting for you boys.”

“Well, I have some buttery shortbread that’ll melt in your mouth.” It appeared Myrtle wasn’t going to be outdone by her sister.

“Thank you, ladies. Robby and I’ll be sure to take advantage of your wonderful offer.”

He waited until the twins exited the building before heading back to Robby’s desk.

“Thanks for including me in on this little party.” Robby scrutinized Jason. “You think BJ may be in the crypt, don’t you?”

 “Can’t be sure unless we look.” Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “Robby?”

“Yeah.”

“I have a weird feeling about what Gladys heard. Could be nothing, but I’d rather have a look then ignore the possibility some madman placed BJ inside … alone.”

W
hat a fitting place to meet my mother.

BJ had always wanted family. Even prayed for family. And now … how many generations of her family were here only a few feet away? And today she could very well be the last of the line. She released a cynical laugh then wondered if she had gone mad after all or if the loss of blood was finally getting to her.

Giving the door another good pounding and a jiggling of the handle, she knew full well it wasn’t going to budge. She doubted the Kents would bring help. They probably thought it was a kid playing a prank. No one would come looking for her here. Why would they? They would have no reason to think someone had left BJ in a crypt with her ancestors.

She shivered at the thought of dying here alone. How long would it take? She had heard of people living for days without food and water, but in her weakened condition—sooner?

The groundskeeper wouldn’t have any reason to open the door, especially since Madelyne was believed to be the last of the Loveless line. What a surprise it would be for someone to open the door to the mausoleum and find her decayed form on the steps of the entrance. Would they bury her here? No one except Jason knew that she was a Loveless descendant.

What about the orphanage?

Odd that she should worry about the children when her own life hung in the balance.

Lightheaded and feeling weaker, she knew she had to stop her leg from bleeding. She figured she’d already lost too much blood and the only chance of survival would be to do something to stint the flow.

BJ unbuckled her belt, slipped it from the loops, snaked it under her leg, bringing it up and over the upper portion of her thigh, cinching it in place to add pressure and slow down the flow of blood. With her one good hand, she reached behind her back and under her shirt, beginning the difficult task of unfastening the catches on her bra. Frustrated at her futile attempts, her persistence eventually disconnected the hooks. The grueling task of slipping her injured arm out the rope and her sleeve, and finally through her bra strap, sapped most of her energy.

After completing the chore of redressing, BJ rested a moment. Feeling she didn’t have much conscious time left, she shoved the back portion of the bra under her leg. She grimaced when her hand came away wet and sticky. After pulling the remainder of the material up and over the gash, she grabbed her useless arm moving it onto her lap. The fingers of her left hand held the larger portion of her bra over the cut adding as much pressure as she could.

Her breath came in gasps. Soaked with sweat, yet she was freezing. Shaky and weak, she wrapped the material around her leg again, tugged a little harder this time, making sure both ends would meet. They did, barely.

After she was sure everything was in place, she pushed the skin together as best she could before she added more pressure to the cloth. Steeling herself against the onslaught she knew would come, she yanked the straps up snuggly, crying out with the jarring pain. She prayed this would keep the gaping flesh closed and stop the blood flow. But her hands revealed the material was already saturated and oozing.

 Exhausted, BJ leaned back against the railing, her head on one of the posts. Her body felt weightless, and strangely enough, she was happy and no longer afraid of the dark. For some reason nothing mattered, and she had the oddest feeling . . . she was going home.

T
here’s Nate’s truck now. I told him not to open the crypt until we got here.” Jason didn’t like his gut feeling about BJ.

“Don’t worry. If she’s in there, she’ll be okay.”

“No, she won’t. If she hasn’t gone mad, she could be dying or already dead without medical help.” Jason jumped out of the police car, leaving the door open, running toward the crypt that held all the Lovelesses since Seth built the place. His long strides cut the distance, but not quick enough for his liking.

“I sure don’t know why you need in the crypt. Never know’d you to be one for visiting the dead.” The old grizzly cemetery keeper stood worrying the keys in his hand. “This be my day off. And now I’m here anyways. Well, let’s get on with it, Elba has dinner awaitin’.”

“Sorry, Nate. But if you would, let me open the gate and door.”

“Well, all right then. Have at it.” Nate slapped the thick ring of keys into Jason’s outstretched hand then stepped back “Young people these days …
humph
.”

Jason fingered the keys before he held them out. “Do you mind telling me which one?”

Nate grumbled some more, shifted through several brass keys. He handed Jason the ring with the two keys sticking up as he glanced in the direction of the fountain spurting water up in the air.

“I see I need to work on that ol’ pump again. It’s going out. I sure wished Mrs. Madelyne would have taken out that old fountain before she went on.” Nate spat on the ground. “H’ain’t been nothin’ but trouble as long as I’ve been workin’ here. Goin’ on nigh fifty years.”

Ignoring Nate’s grumblings, Jason unlocked the gate. It swung inward on squeaky hinges.

“Guess I’m a needin’ to oil them too.” Nate stood watching, but didn’t move.

Jason and Robby stepped inside the small courtyard where the fountain with the noisy pump sat in front of a concrete bench. Jason fumbled with the next key, thicker than the last, shoved it into the lock, jiggled it a bit until it finally clicked. He lifted on the handle, pushed in, but met resistance. Something was lodged up against the door. “Robby, give me a hand here.”

“That door should open without a hitch. It did two months ago when I put the Mrs. Madelyne in there.” Nate had shuffled down where they were, hovering over their backs. “I don’t rightly understand what’s a holdin’ it.”

Jason and Robby put more force behind their shove. The door moved enough for Jason to get a peek at what blocked the entrance.

“Billy Jo!” His heart twisted at the sight of the small unresponsive body, head lying at an odd angle on the bottom step, torso crumpled and wedged against the door. “Billy Jo. Can you hear me? Honey, it’s me … Jason. Please BJ, look at me.” Jason sank to his knees, slipped his hand inside to grab her arm, but she was out of reach. He didn’t know if she was alive or dead.

“Is there another way in?”

Randy’s voice seemed to come from far away as Jason looked at the one he loved. He wanted to kill the man who had thrown her in the worst place imaginable.

“No. Only one door. Someone in there?”

The old man’s words jerked Jason into action. “Randy, I need your flashlight.” A hand came over his shoulder, and a beam illuminated the crypt. “Shine it down at the floor by the door.”

What he saw frightened him more than anything he’d ever witnessed. BJ blocked the entrance. Blood saturated her clothing. Her head sat at an odd angle on the bottom step. Bruising and dried blood were evident on her colorless face, and her mouth was slack and swollen.

“BJ’s wedged up against the door. You’re going to have to push, but carefully. I need enough room to ease through, but I don’t want to injure her more.”

“Is she alive?”

“I don’t know.” Jason ground out the words through his teeth. He didn’t want to think of BJ as dead, and disliked his friend enforcing his fears. “Push until I tell you to stop.”

Robby leaned his shoulder against the door.

“All right, now. Slowly. Hold it.” Jason eased his upper torso through the opening. He slid the rest of the way through, falling on his knees next to BJ. The door shut, engulfing them in darkness. Robby pushed it open again, sticking his head around the edge.

Jason felt for a pulse in her neck and found a small, weak one, barely discernible. He wanted to scream his thanks to heaven, but she wasn’t out of danger yet. Lifting her gently in his arms, he yelled, “I’ve got a weak pulse, call the EMT, now!”

Robby pushed the door open all the way; he grimaced at the sight. “I’ll call it in.”

The dim light of dusk filled the stairwell along with the flashlight in Robby’s hand. Jason’s heart twisted at the sight of BJ in her own blood. Swarmed with doubts, he cradled her against his chest, her swollen and battered face against his shoulder. He did what he knew to do best—he prayed.