Beyond A Reasonable Doubt (11 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Marcus Dade sat back in his chair and clipped off the end of a cigar before lighting it, taking a deep draw and exhaling slowly. He’d listened to the rape with some amusement. He’d been vaguely disappointed. Jenna James had a lot of spunk in the courtroom, but when faced with an animal like Michael Elkins, she’d done just what every other victim always did—cried like a baby. Disappointing and a shame. If she’d blown the bastard away, it would have solved at least one of his problems. Savior was a hothead. Maybe he could still accomplish that.

Picking up the phone, he dialed Gregory’s number. “You close?”

“I can be there in five minutes.”

“Got an untraceable cell on you?”

Gregory laughed. “Don’t I always?”

“Let yourself in. I’m in the office.”

He took a sheet of paper and wrote out the script he wanted Gregory to read, picked up the phone, and dialed a well-known number.

“Police department.”

“I need a number.”

The voice changed perceptibly, lowering in tone. “Who?”

“Harry Redmond’s cell phone.”

“Give me a minute, and I’ll call you back.”

The phone rang less than a minute later, and Marcus wrote down the number just as Gregory walked in. “Thanks, I owe you one.”

Hanging up the phone, he handed the number and the script to Gregory and took a slow drag on the cigar. “Call that number, and read exactly what I’ve written.”

Gregory read over the script, raised an eyebrow, and whistled. “Sure you don’t want me to just off the bastard?”

Marcus laughed. “I may need a favor someday from Mr. Redmond or Miss James.”

Gregory pulled out the cell phone and dialed the number. “You’re the boss.”

Harry slowed down and pulled over, reaching over the visor to retrieve his ringing cell. “Hello.”

“Harry Redmond?”

“Yeah, who’s this?”

“A friend. Shame you were late getting to your girlfriend’s house tonight.”

Harry felt a chill start at the base of his spine and move upward. “Who is this?”

“I told you—just a friend. If I were you, I’d turn around and go back. I’ve often heard rape victims get suicidal shortly after the attack, especially when the attack comes from someone they trust. Looks like both the Elkinses are women haters. Oh, and Redmond, you owe me one.”

The line went dead, and Harry dropped the phone, pulled the car into gear, and spun around in the middle of the highway.

Jake grabbed for the door, holding on. “What was that all about?”

Harry floored it, turning on the lights to move cars out of his way. “We don’t have a leak. Jenna’s house is bugged, and Elkins just raped her.”

Jake rummaged through the glove compartment and pulled out a bug detector. “You take care of JJ; I’ll take care of the bug.”

Harry nodded, flipping off the lights and siren as they approached her road. Pulling into the driveway, he braked, turned off the ignition, and jumped out of the car, Jake close on his heels. He banged on the door. “Jenna!”

The house was deathly quiet, and he turned the knob, surprised to find it unlocked. Pulling his gun, he motioned for Jake to take the right. They entered slowly, and Harry called out again. “Jenna!”

“Up here.”

Her voice was strained, and Harry holstered his pistol and headed for the stairs. Jake flipped on the light, turned on the bug detector, and went to work.

Harry stopped at the top of the stairs and turned on the hall light. He saw her then, naked and huddled on the bathroom floor, her knees pulled up to her chest as she rocked slowly back and forth. He approached her slowly, taking the robe from the back of the door. “Here, let me help you.”

Jenna stopped rocking, allowing him to pull her to her feet and wrap the robe around her. He was careful not to touch her. “Is there someone I can call?”

She lifted tear-filled eyes and shook her head. “I don’t have anyone.” Her voice caught on a sob. “Except you.”

Harry pulled her into his arms, his hands rubbing her still-dripping curls as she sobbed into his chest. He was gonna kill Elkins… slowly, one drop of blood at a time.

Jake came up the stairs, glanced into the bathroom, and continued on down the hall. He came back a minute later. “One in the living room lamp and one in the coffeemaker. They’ve been listening to every word we said. Want me to call this in?”

Jenna caught her breath on a sob and pushed out of Harry’s arms. “No.”

Harry eased away from her slowly. “Jake, why don’t you make us a pot of coffee and some of that bacon you’re so good at.”

Jake took the hint and headed downstairs.

“You can’t let him get away with this, Jenna. You have to report it.”

“I can’t, Harry. If I report this, we’ll all be tied up for days or weeks, maybe months. Besides, we’ve been dating for months. Would anyone believe me?”

His cell phone rang, and he glanced at the number. Loki. “All right, don’t report it. Get angry, Jenna. Use it against him. Let’s find the evidence and take all these bastards down.” The phone rang again. “I need to take this.”

Jenna nodded. “Let me get dressed. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

He answered the phone. “Hello.”

“Something spooked the undertaker, and he’s making a run for it. Followed him to a house down in the panhandle. Looks like he’s got another woman. Want us to stay with it?”

“No, back off. I’ll drop by your office tomorrow afternoon and settle up.”

“Stay cool, cuz. You need us, we’ll be around.”

“Watch your back, Loki.”

Harry closed the phone and glanced at the bedroom door before he made his way downstairs to the kitchen. She probably needed some time alone. Jake was busy making toast and flipping bacon. “Loki says our guy made a run for it. Mistress down in the panhandle.”

Jake poured three cups of coffee and nodded toward the stairs. “She gonna be okay?”

Harry flopped into a chair just as Jenna descended the stairs and answered Jake’s question. “Badly bent but not broken. I need you to check something for me. My friend, Ben Andrews. Michael said he didn’t make it. I think he killed him.”

Jake turned off the stove. “I’ll check it out.”

Jenna’s gaze fell on the wires on the counter. “What are those?”

Jake picked them up. “Bugs. Somebody has been listening to everything we’ve said, everything we’ve planned. That’s how we knew what had happened to you. They called Harry. Sit down and drink your coffee. I’ll check on your friend, come back, and fix you a plate.”

Jenna sat down next to Harry. “Someone heard all that?”

Harry nodded, placing his hand over hers. “We came by earlier, but Elkins was leaving, and your lights were off. We didn’t stop.”

Jenna’s face colored, her eyes darkening. “Someone heard me get raped, and they waited until it was all over to call you?” She stood up, grabbing the wires, and dropped them on the floor, where she stomped them with her bare feet. “What kind of sick bastard does that?”

Jake picked up the wires and headed for the front door to check on Andrews. “The kind that thinks you now owe him a favor. My bet would be on Marcus Dade.”

Jenna flopped back in the chair and winced. “Well, then let’s make sure he gets paid in full. I want them. All of them.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Jake returned a few minutes later. “They found him a few minutes ago on the edge of the courthouse parking lot. He’d been shot twice. The first bullet went straight through the heart. He probably died instantly.”

Jenna felt as if her body were being pummeled by each word.
Found. Shot. Died instantly.
“I killed him,” she whispered.

Harry motioned for Jake to refill the coffee cups and scooted his chair closer to her. “You didn’t kill him, Jenna. Michael Elkins did—or somebody he hired to do his dirty work. Help us, and we’ll find the proof, and we’ll make sure they never hurt anyone again.”

Jenna shook her head. “It’s no use. Look at us; we’ve been at this a week, and we don’t know anything. We don’t have one shred of evidence we can use against any of them.”

Jake placed the coffee in front of her. “Elkins has had years to hide evidence, get rid of witnesses, and intimidate or threaten anyone who might know something. We knew it wasn’t going to be easy when we started. Nothing’s changed.”

“Everything’s changed. I don’t want any more blood on my hands.” Jenna glanced at Harry. “I don’t want anything to happen to you two.”

Jake took a sip of coffee and sighed. “There’s a blood battle coming, Jenna, whether you’re part of it or not. If you want to stop it, or at least control it, then let’s go back to work. You said earlier you needed to map out your trial, find the questions and then the proof to back up those questions.”

“Jake’s right,” Harry said. “What about Jordan Elkins? You said he was looking for the proof his mother left. Any chance he’s found it?”

“No. Tom, or whatever his real name is, came here last night. Jordan was ill. He may be dying, for all I know. Clifford Beaumont sent a doctor, but I haven’t heard from either of them.”

Jake filled plates with bacon and toast and passed them around before sitting at the end of the table. “I say we eat and start over. Plan A isn’t working, so let’s try Plan B.”

Jenna drank her coffee but begged off from the bacon and toast. “I could go back to work on Monday, do what Ben was doing for me, get Elkins’s dismissals. You two go after the undertaker. Assuming there’s something there, maybe we can put together enough for an indictment. That should take the heat off Jordan for at least a little while, give him a chance to get well. Maybe then he can find the proof he thinks his mother left behind.”

Harry shook his head. “Using the office to gather those files isn’t a good idea. Both Dade and Elkins will be watching you. Besides, you said yourself your boss basically suspended you, even if he did call it a vacation. Now he wants you back. Good chance someone there is on their payroll.”

Jenna walked to the sink and dumped her cup. “I’ve been there eight years. I refuse to believe that the people I’ve worked with for eight long years are part of this. I’m paranoid enough without going there.”

“Harry’s right, Jenna. Even if no one at the office is involved, you start looking into cases between Dade and Elkins, you might as well draw a bull’s-eye on your forehead.”

Harry pushed back his chair. “I’ve got a better idea if you’re game.”

Jake pulled out his chair and sat back down. “Let’s hear it.”

“Jenna?”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to put these people where they belong.”

“Okay then. Jake and I take a week’s vacation. We find a safe house and move in there. That way we’ve got each other’s back. We move you into the safe house. Then we start pushing buttons.”

Jenna sat down. “How?”

“You map out that trial—the questions you know the answers to but don’t have the proof. Then we start leaking things to the papers. First about Mrs. Elkins dying in Kentucky. That should make things hot enough for the Elkinses to keep them off our backs for a while. Give us some time to look into Andrews’s murder.”

“No journalist is going to print that story without some type of proof,” Jenna said.

Jake pulled out the list. “We type this up, print it out, and send it too. There’s enough here to spark some interest. I know some darn good journalists, and they’d jump at a story like this. We do exactly what they never expected us to do. We’ve been running scared, afraid of shadows. It’s time to turn on the lights and make things really hot.”

Jenna nodded. “Michael definitely won’t expect that.”

She didn’t finish, but she knew they knew what she was thinking. Michael Elkins would expect her to react the way he wanted her to react: intimidated, scared, and submissive.

Jenna still had her doubts, but she was warming to the idea. “So we start with the list of the hospitals where Olivia Elkins was treated. We leak those to the newspapers along with the rumor she died in Kentucky on Sunday night or Monday morning. It would be a huge coup for any journalist who could prove it. We know they won’t run it unless they can at least find some proof. I’m betting, with this list and the fact there’s someone out there that hates William Elkins almost as much as we do, they’ll find enough.”

Harry grinned at her. “Now you’re thinking. Instead of running away from the bastards, we run straight at them and hit them head on. Jake?”

“All good ideas, up to a point. First, I think we need to see what the undertaker has. We need something solid before we start this war. Once it’s started, bodies may start piling up, and everything will start disappearing quickly. Plus, we need to find that safe house. We’ll be the first ones with a price on our head.”

Jenna glanced at the clock—one in the morning. “Weren’t you two supposed to be back on patrol at midnight? I don’t think we can afford for you to get fired yet.”

Harry and Jake stood simultaneously. “You sure you’re gonna be okay here alone? One of us could call in sick,” Harry said.

Jenna shook her head and pulled the derringer from the silverware drawer. “I’m not alone.”

“Due to budget problems, and the fact the city refuses to pay us overtime, we’re off at three. Give Harry a key, and we’ll let ourselves in. We can grab a couple of sleeping bags and camp out on the floor tonight, get a fresh start first thing in the morning,” Jake said as he took the gun from her hand. “I think my plan’s better.”

Jenna walked through the house slowly, checking windows and doors. She’d tried to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes, she found herself reliving the rape. It wasn’t as if she’d been a virgin and had never had sex before. She’d had sex with Michael before. If she prosecuted, that’s what the defense would say. And he hadn’t really hurt her physically, another defense she’d have little evidence to contradict. So what was it? What made that time so different from all the other times she’d had sex with Michael?

She wracked her brain, going back through the hundreds of cases she’d prosecuted until she homed in on the one she was searching for. Sandra Dennison. She’d been eighteen at the time, a beautiful, intelligent young woman just starting college. She’d had her whole life ahead of her until Timothy Carr had picked her up at a party and drugged and raped her. Sandra wasn’t totally innocent. She’d played around before meeting Timothy. The defense attorney had used that against her, and Jenna had worried that Sandra would break.

She hadn’t. She’d looked the defense attorney straight in the eye and said, “Sex is a personal, vulnerable, intimate thing you do with someone you love or have feelings for, someone who makes you feel good about yourself, and someone who makes you feel safe with those feelings.

“Rape is nothing like sex. It’s a violent, angry, and terrifying robbery of your body, mind, and emotions.

“It’s my body, my mind, and my emotions. I have a right to give them to whomever I want. No one has a right to take them from me.”

She’d won that case, and Timothy Carr had gone to prison, where he belonged. Sandra had gone on to finish college and get her degree, and the last Jenna had heard, she was currently married to a wonderful man. She’d stood up for herself, refusing to let the rape define her or the rest of her life.

Jenna started a pot of coffee. Clearly, she wasn’t going to get any sleep at the moment. She had tools stashed in the closet off the laundry room, and she searched until she found a crowbar and hammer. She went back to the living room and stared at the carpet stained by her vomiting fit. Jake had cleaned it up while Harry was taking care of her. An image of Harry’s gentle face flashed through her mind. He wasn’t rich or powerful, but he was a good man, the kind of man she wanted in her life, someone who would always be there even through the worst of times.

Picking a corner, she pried loose the baseboard and removed it. She inserted the crowbar beneath the exposed edge of carpet and pulled until it came loose. First, she would get rid of the carpet, and then she’d find a way to prosecute Michael Elkins. She wasn’t going to fool herself. Her life would never quite be the same. She’d told the truth when Jake had asked how she was. She wasn’t broken, but the nightmares would continue for years to come. And she was bitter. She did feel the way many of her former victims felt. She wanted to castrate Michael Elkins and watch him bleed to death slowly. The thoughts of putting him behind bars, among the criminal element, where
he
could be raped daily brought a small smile to her face. She wasn’t going to let the rape define her either. Maybe she couldn’t prosecute him for raping her, but she would get him—one way or the other—and she’d put him behind bars, where he belonged.

Using the crowbar, she removed the remaining baseboards and pulled the carpet free from around the walls. She knelt and began rolling it up. She would get rid of the carpet, then she’d sit down and plan her trial of both Elkinses.