Beyond A Reasonable Doubt (10 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Jake popped the lock on the back door of the funeral home. “These things are always easy. They never expect anyone to want to break in here.”

“Easy to understand,” Harry said. “I hate these places.”

Jake grinned, exposing even, white teeth as he pulled out a flashlight and turned it on. “That why you’re whispering? Afraid of ghosts?”

Harry pulled his own flashlight and turned it on just as an owl screeched from a nearby tree. “It is not the
shilup
we have to worry about.” He pointed toward the owl. “It is the
shilombish
that lingers.”

Jake flashed his light around the room as they entered. The chemical scent of embalming fluid filled his nostrils. “What the hell is a
shilup
and a
shilombish
?”

Harry pointed his light toward the stairs. “The
shilup
is the inside shadow or ghost, as your culture calls them. Upon death, it goes to the land of ghosts.” He headed toward the stairs. “The
shilombish
is the outside shadow, the shadow that follows you around. It stays to wander, usually in its former home, but they can move to other places. They often imitate animals, an owl for instance or a fox. The screech of an owl at night is an omen of bad things to come.”

Jake knew Harry took his family heritage seriously. “Bad things have already come, and you guys have some strange customs. Let’s find our body and get the hell out of here.”

They moved quickly and quietly up the stairs, the aromatic smell of fresh flowers growing stronger with each step. “Our customs are no stranger than yours. You place flowers around your dead as a symbol of love, sympathy, and respect, a custom that started merely as a way to control the odor of the body’s decomposition,” Harry said.

Opening the door, he stepped into a hallway and flashed his light around. “This place is spooky as hell at night. Looks like we have three candidates. I’ll take door number one, and you can take door number two.”

Jake shot him a glare before moving toward the left. His nose was still hurting where Loki had head butted him, and the flowery sweet smell was becoming nauseating. The door sign said a Dorothy Chambers occupied the room. Right sex, but he was crossing his fingers it was the wrong room. He made his way slowly among the rows of chairs to the front. The casket was closed. “Damn.” Setting the flashlight on a chair, he pushed the latch to open the casket. “Sorry, Dorothy.” Pulling it open, he looked inside and breathed a sigh of relief. Dorothy had all her hair. He closed the casket, picked up the flashlight, and moved back to the hallway just as Harry came out of the room on the right. “Any luck?”

“Nope. You?” Harry asked.

“Dorothy has a full head of hair, all still attached.” They both turned to stare at the remaining room. “Looks like it’s door number three,” Jake said.

They approached the room together, stopping to read the sign. “Josie Freeman,” Jake said, shining his light toward the front of the room and the closed casket. “Do they close all the caskets at night?”

“I think they close them all,” Harry said. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

Harry held the lights while Jake flipped the latch and opened the casket. A long, black wig had twisted on the head, half on and half off. “Looks like we found our body. What do we do now?” Harry asked.

Jake reached for a flashlight. “Go get the box.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “You thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

“What else can we do? We can’t report it, and Ms. Freeman deserves to be buried with her own hair.” Jake grinned. “Besides, think of the undertaker’s face when he opens this casket in the morning and her hair is back in place.”

Harry slipped out the back door just as the owl screeched again. He searched the perimeter as the sensation of spider legs ran down his spine. He retrieved the box and returned just as Jake lifted the body and pulled off the black wig. “Put it on.”

Harry set the box down on the front row and backed up. “You do it.”

“Damn it, Harry. Get the scalp and put it on.” Jake cursed again.

Harry shook his head and backed up farther. The owl screeched again. “Toss it in the coffin, and let’s go. The dead are restless tonight.”

Jake lowered the body. “All right. I’ll meet you downstairs.” He arranged his flashlight so he could see and then picked up the box. He took out the scalp and lifted the body again, tugging the scalp back into place. He lowered the body and smoothed the hair around her face until it looked as natural as possible. “You look lovely, Ms. Freeman.”

He tossed the wig inside the box and reached for his flashlight. He had the strange urge to whistle. Why was it people always whistled when they were alone in a cemetery or a dark place? He fought the urge, picked up the box, and made his way back down the stairs and out the back door. He didn’t know what had gotten into Harry, but a chill was creeping slowly into his bones. The owl screeched yet again, and the chill deepened. Jake picked up his pace. He was pretty sure bad things were coming… and coming fast.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Jenna searched the bottom of her closet, pulling out shoes with broken heels, puncture holes, and knife slashes.
Damn Elkins to hell.
Reaching way into the back, she pulled out a pair of black pumps. Replacing all the things Elkins had destroyed would take her years. Half her day had been taken up with getting a new license. She’d have to go shopping for clothes before she went back to work.

Pulling on the pumps, she stood and studied her reflection in her mirror. The suit was more than five years old, but fortunately it still fit. She grabbed her purse and sprinted down the stairs. Maybe she should have taken Beaumont up on his offer. She’d discuss it with David once the Elkinses were behind bars.

Jenna opened the garage and climbed behind the wheel of her grandfather’s old Chevy truck. She should probably sell it and buy a car, but driving it always made her feel close to him.

The federal courthouse was just starting to shut down as she parked in the employee parking lot. She grinned at the guard and raced up the steps two at a time. She’d planned on getting there just a few minutes before closing, but she’d almost cut it too short. Friday was always the day everyone rushed to get out. She was stopped at the door by the guard.

“Hey, Alfred, can I please come in? I just need to see Ben Andrews for a second, and then I’ll be out of here. I promise.”

Alfred Wagner had been the door guard for as long as Jenna could remember. She watched as he glanced at the roster. “He’s still on the second floor. You gotta make it quick, though.”

Jenna gave him a hug and raced for the stairs, not wanting to waste time on the elevator, which never worked correctly anyway. “Thank you, Alfred. I promise, just a minute.”

Out of breath, she paused at the top of the stairs. Ben should be in Judge Clinton’s chambers. She glanced down the hall just as he exited and headed in the opposite direction.

“Ben, wait!”

“Jenna? What are you doing here?” He stopped and waited for her.

“I need your help on something.”

Ben gave her a suspicious look. “You know I can’t discuss the current cases with you, Jenna.”

Jenna leaned over, holding her right side and catching her breath. Sprinting to the courthouse and then up the stairs had proven she was definitely out of shape.

“Not anything current. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

“How about a steak, salad, and glass of wine? Except for minor glimpses in the courtroom, I haven’t seen you in years. I’d love to catch up,” Ben said.

Placing her arm in his, she smiled up at him. “Dinner it is, then.”

Jenna waited until Ben had finished his steak and two glasses of wine before approaching the subject that had brought her there. She needed to do it quickly, before the guilt she was feeling made her change her mind. She’d been out of touch with Ben for years, as she was with the rest of her friends from law school. If she made it out of this alive, she was going to change that.

“Ben, you worked at the courthouse when William Elkins was on the bench, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “Unfortunately. He was a real jerk.”

Good. If Ben didn’t like him, it would be easier to convince him to help her. “What would it take to pull together a list of cases he dismissed in the last five years?”

Ben studied her over the rim of his glass. “What are you up to, Jenna?”

She shrugged. “I have a witness that told me some things. I’d just like to review the cases. Would it take you very long to pull something like that together?”

“It would take a while, unless you could narrow it down some. Elkins dismissed a lot of cases for a lot of reasons.”

Jenna toyed with her salad, feeling his eyes homed in on her face. She’d hoped not to divulge too much. The more he knew, the more danger he would be in. “What about just the ones involving high-profile criminals represented by Marcus Dade’s firm?”

Ben whistled softly. “Damn it, Jenna. What do you think you’re doing? Most of those cases were dismissed because witnesses disappeared. Do you want to be next?”

“I know the danger, Ben, but I really need those files if I’m going to verify my informant’s information. Can you do it?” A feeling of foreboding started in her stomach, working its way upward. “Can you do it without getting in trouble or getting caught? Because if you can’t, then I don’t want you to.”

Ben finished his glass of wine and stood up. “You helped me when no one else would. Without your constant prodding, I’d have never made it through law school. I’ll do it tonight and have something for you by tomorrow.”

Jenna watched him walk away, the feeling of foreboding spreading through her chest.

~ ~ ~

Elkins stared at his oldest son. “What are you doing to find that lockbox?”

Michael poured a glass of scotch. “I’ve scoured just about every bank in town. There’s no lockbox in her name. I even checked under Jordan’s name.”

“Lousy bitch. You realize if we don’t find it, I’m broke. Everything I’ve worked for… gone, just like that. How much help do you think we’re gonna get from Marcus Dade then? Bastard’s got no loyalty.” He crossed the room and flopped into the desk chair. “Pour me a drink.”

Michael poured a second glass of scotch and topped his off. “We’ll find it, Dad. And we’ll find Jordan. I don’t intend to live the rest of my life as a pauper.”

The phone rang, and Elkins reached for it. “Hello?”

“Judge Elkins?”

He waved for Michael to come closer and reached for the drink. “Yes, this is William Elkins.”

“Corey Masters, sir. Just wanted you to know that line you set up to monitor anyone accessing your old files just triggered. Somebody is there now pulling records from the database.”

“Do you know who it is?”

“Clerk named Ben Andrews, sir.”

Elkins took a drink of scotch. “Thank you, son. I’ll see you get a nice bonus check at the end of the year.”

He hung up the phone, downed the rest of the scotch, and stood up. “You worthless piece of shit. You told me you took care of James. She’s got her buddy Ben Andrews pulling my old files.” He grabbed his cane and swung it at Michael’s head, barely missing. “Do you know what that means? Do you?”

“I can’t take care of everything, Dad. You’ve got me out searching banks, looking for Jordan, and cleaning up your messes. I’ll take care of Jenna in my own damn time.”

The cane came down hard on his shoulder as Elkins screamed in rage. “Don’t you sass me, boy. You take care of her now, or by hell I’ll take care of you.”

Michael turned, grabbed the cane from his father, and raised it. Satisfaction coursed through him as the old man backed up, his eyes filled with fear. “Don’t ever hit me again. I’ll take care of Andrews, and then I’ll take care of Jenna. Hit me again, and I’ll take care of you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Michael pulled into the alley leading to the courthouse. From there, he could see the back door and be out of line of the cameras. Of course, the possibility existed that Andrews would go out the front, but he doubted it. He laughed softly as he screwed the silencer onto the pistol. Sneaky people did sneaky things, and they always used the back door.

He glanced at the dashboard clock. He’d learned something that night, something vital to his future. He no longer had to live in fear. The look in the old man’s eyes when he’d raised the cane had proven that. Honorable William Elkins was afraid of him.
God, what a rush.
Just thinking about it was giving him a hard-on, and once he finished there, he knew just where to use it. Before that night was over, Jenna James would be complacent and compliant, or she’d be dead. Either way, he would win. He’d read something about domination recently. He liked the idea of whipping her into submission, making her crawl to him, begging him for it. That’s what had attracted him to her to start with. She was too strong, too independent. She needed a strong man to break her. If he was lucky, doing so would take a while. He wanted her to fight, and she would. They all did in the beginning, afraid to admit the truth. They all liked it rough, and they all liked being dominated. He chuckled, thinking of Jenna. Sometimes, they just had to learn they liked it.

The back door to the courthouse opened, and he sat up straight. It must be his lucky night. Opening the door quietly, he climbed out of the car, making sure to stay in the shadows. “Ben Andrews?”

Andrews stared across the lot toward the alley. “Who’s there?”

“Hey, Ben, it’s me, Michael Elkins. I twisted my ankle, and my car is parked around front. Could you give me a hand?”

Andrews walked toward him. “Sure, Mr. Elkins. How did you wind up in the alley?”

Michael kept the gun close to his side, out of sight. A little closer, that’s all he needed. “Believe it or not, I dropped a file, and papers flew all over the place.”

Andrews laughed. “I’ve done that myself. Let me help you to your car, and I’ll come back and make sure we got all of them.”

Michael felt his mouth watering in anticipation.
Just five more feet.
Andrews’s face appeared in the alley just as Michael raised the gun. “You should have minded your own business, Ben.” He fired, the bullet striking below the left shoulder. “Bull’s-eye.” Just to be sure, he fired again as the body spun around. All that time spent at the firing range hadn’t been a total waste after all.

Michael scanned the parking lot before stepping out of the alley and retrieving the envelope Andrews had been carrying. He knelt beside the body and felt for a pulse. Finding none, he moved quickly back to his car, climbed in, and backed out of the alley. He’d lived in the shadows of the old man’s power for years. Not anymore. People had only the power you gave them. He chuckled again as he headed toward Jenna’s house. He wasn’t giving anymore. He was in charge now. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to take it.

~ ~ ~

Jenna heard pounding on her door, grabbed her notes, and skipped down the steps. She found herself actually looking forward to these sessions. She’d been disappointed when Jake and Harry hadn’t shown up the night before. She was going to miss them when she went back to work. She opened the door, her smile freezing on her face. “Michael, what are you doing here?”

He gave her that slow, sexy smile, the one that used to melt her heart, which was pounding faster, but not from desire.

“Can I come in?”

Jenna recovered quickly. She could let him in and pretend nothing was wrong, or she could stand up to him. The fact she knew Harry and Jake would be there any minute made her braver. Opening the door wider, she let him in and waved her hand around the living room. “Thanks to your father, there’s really no place to sit yet unless you want to go to the kitchen.”

Michael reached for her right hand and gently touched the taped fingers. “My father told me what he did, Jenna. If you’ll let me, I’ll make it right. We’ll refurnish all of this.” He moved in closer. “Or maybe you could just move in with me.”

Jenna pulled her hand away. “Your father destroyed my home, broke my finger, and threatened me. But even worse than that, you lied to me, Michael. Jordan told me everything. Your father has been beating your mother for years… and you knew it all along.”

He touched her face softly. “I know you probably won’t believe this, but I do care about you. I did lie, Jenna. I did what I had to do, and if it makes any difference to you, my father didn’t kill my mother. It was an accident.” He let his hand fall when she pulled away again.

“Then why didn’t you just let things take their course in Kentucky? Why all the deceit?”

Michael shoved his hands into his pockets. “Because he’s losing his mind, Jenna. When he heard you had gotten Jordan out of prison, he went crazy. I thought I could control him, but I can’t.”

“Why does he hate Jordan so much? I read his file. There’s no way he should have gotten that sentence.”

Michael turned his back on her and walked to a window. “Jordan isn’t Dad’s child. My mother had an affair. He’s my half-brother.” He turned to face her, his eyes dark and cold. “Jordan doesn’t even know. I’m the one that had to live with that knowledge every day of my life. The judge never let me forget, and she never let me forget who her favorite was.”

He took a step toward her. “You were the best thing that ever happened to me. You made me realize there was good in the world—just how wrong my father was, how corrupt he is. We could stop him, start over. I want to get Jordan out of prison. He doesn’t belong there. I want to be a real family.”

He took another step toward her, and she bit her lip, standing her ground. Jordan had said his mother had proof of his father’s crimes. If she could get inside the house, maybe she could find it and end this mess before anyone else got hurt. “I’ve always wanted to see your home. I hear it’s very beautiful.”

Michael took the last few steps to bring himself to her, lowered his head, and kissed her softly. “Why don’t you come to dinner tomorrow night? I’ll make sure my father is gone. We’ll have the place all to ourselves. Make-up sex is always great. We could start now.”

She shuddered, the urge to wipe her mouth and slap his face overwhelming. She glanced at the clock. Harry and Jake were late, but they could arrive any minute. “I’m still feeling sort of tired, and you should rest too. Why don’t you call me in the morning, and we’ll talk about it?”

The change in his features, tightening of his lips, and setting of his jaw pushed her back a step, but he grabbed her, pulling her into his arms. He kissed her again, this time his lips more possessive, hard and brutal. She struggled slightly, but that seemed to only excite him more as he pulled her hips in close and ground his groin against her. “You’re mine, Jenna. I tried being nice. I wanted to give you some time to get used to the way it was going to be. It’s time you learned your place.” He pulled back from her and looked deep into her eyes. “Either way, you’re going to be mine.”

She pushed against his chest. “You bastard! Let go of me!”

He laughed, dragging her across the room with him as he turned off the light. “I should have done this a long time ago.”

Jenna realized his intentions too late, and her struggles became more violent as he pushed her to the floor, ripping off her clothes. He slapped her hard before pinning her hands beneath her body as he undid his belt and trousers. “Fight me, honey. I like it that way.”

Her ears were ringing from the force of the slap, but she stopped struggling and relaxed, her mind homing in on the memories of rape victims she’d counseled, the ones she’d badgered into testifying. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as he brutalized her body, his grunts a sound she knew would haunt her for years to come.
Violated
. That’s what they’d all told her. They felt violated physically, mentally, and emotionally. She dug deep, clinging to statistics. One-point-three women over the age of eighteen were forcibly raped each minute. Seventy-eight per hour. Six hundred and eighty-three thousand per year. That’s all she’d seen before: statistics. And even those were wrong. Most women were too scared or too horrified to report the incident.

She heard whimpers and realized only when he rolled off her that they were coming from her—such tiny little sounds. Had the victims she’d bullied whimpered like this? Had they kept their eyes tightly shut as she had? Afraid. Helpless. Numb.

She lay perfectly still as he dressed.

“Your buddy Ben didn’t make it, Jenna. Unless you want to join him, you’ll do what I tell you to do.”

He let himself out the front door. Only after she heard his car back out of the driveway and accelerate did she move.

Rolling over, she vomited until nothing was left but dry heaves.

Crawling to the stairs, she pulled herself up, one step at a time, until she reached the top landing and her bathroom.

She climbed into the tub and turned on the hot water and scrubbed until her skin was red and raw.

Harry slowed as he neared Jenna’s house. A red Ferrari was backing out of the driveway, and all lights in the house were off. He recognized the car from all the nights he’d seen it there before. Michael Elkins. His foot pressed down hard on the accelerator, and he sped past.

Jake lit a cigarette and rolled down his window. “Sorry, partner. Guess we know where our leak is.”