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Authors: Linda S. Prather

Tags: #Thriller, #Mystery, #Legal

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BOOK: Beyond A Reasonable Doubt
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Jenna waited until Harry pulled back onto the highway from dropping off Jake before she started asking questions. Clearly, Harry was the weaker link where she was concerned. She’d forgotten how cute he was, and something in the darkness of his eyes made her shiver in a good way. “Tell me about your partner. He hates Elkins more than I do.”

Harry turned onto the main highway, heading for the hospital. “Jake’s father was a cop. A good cop. When Jake was eight, he and his mother were kidnapped. They held them hostage for days, the kidnapper slowly beating his mother to death. She must have known she was close to dying because one night, she attacked the man and made Jake run for help. He did, but it was too late for his mother. They found her body the next day.

“Jake’s father got a note a few days later that said, ‘Just a little reminder of what happens to the people who cross me.’ He blew his brains out.”

Jenna held up her right hand. “That’s what Elkins said to me when he did this.”

Harry continued. “They caught the guy, and Jake made a positive ID. Elkins turned him loose because the DNA at the scene didn’t match the killer. Said Jake was too young to testify and must have been mistaken. He’s been waiting twenty-eight years to find a way to take Elkins down. Trust me, Jenna, if you get evidence on Elkins, we’ll gladly put him away.”

Harry pulled up in front of the hospital. “You gonna be okay in there? If everything Jordan Elkins told you is true, your boyfriend isn’t exactly innocent. And if Elkins isn’t behind making the Atlanta story go away, you could be in real danger.”

“There was a point in our relationship when I thought I was falling in love with Michael Elkins. I realize now it was just infatuation. I got caught up in the glamour of being wined and dined by the most eligible bachelor in Texas. Funny, right?”

Harry shook his head. “Not to me.”

Jenna met his gaze, a warm feeling spreading through her.
Why couldn’t I have fallen in love with a good guy?
“When I was a little girl, I used to watch movies with my mother and dream of the day when I could be an actress. I wanted to dress up and play a different part every day. I would practice in my room, saying the lines, watching my face in the mirror so I got the emotion of the part just right.

“After my parents were killed, my whole world changed. I only wanted to put the bad guys away.” She opened her door, climbed out, and leaned back in. “Now, I’m going to get the best of both worlds. A starring role and putting the bad guys away. Trust me, Harry, I’ll be fine.”

Jenna took a deep breath before entering the room. She’d known for weeks that her relationship with Michael was slowly dying. The changes she’d seen in him the day before had been slipping through the cracks of his demeanor a little more each day. She knew he represented some clients that were guilty. She’d respected that at first because even the guilty deserved the very best defense available. It was her job to tear down that defense if the evidence pointed to a guilty verdict. Ever since he’d decided to run for judge, he’d been pushing her to seek the DA appointment. He’d become almost obsessed with the idea. Why? If he was going to be a judge, she couldn’t practice in front of him. Sighing, she realized she was too tired to think about it. She needed to pay a visit, act normal, and then go home and sleep.

She opened the door to the room quietly, just in case he was asleep. She actually hoped he was.

Stepping into the room, she approached the bed, her gaze glued to his face. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was slow and even. A cough from the shadows caught her attention. Startled, she turned quickly, seeking out a face.

“Miss James, I presume?”

“I am. Who are you?”

He stood, reaching inside his jacket pocket to retrieve a badge. “Agent Carl Starks, with the FBI. I have a few questions for you.”

Jenna glanced at the still-sleeping figure. “I don’t think this is a good place to talk.”

Agent Starks smiled at her. “Let me buy you a cup of coffee.”

Jenna followed him down the hall to the nurse’s station, where he secured both a pot of coffee and a private room.

Jenna shivered as she glanced around the tiny room containing nothing but a couch, a chair, and a coffee table. It reminded her of the room the doctors had taken her on the night her parents had been killed.

“Please, have a seat, Miss James.”

Jenna shook off the memories of her parents and took the opportunity to study the huge black man as he set up cups and poured the coffee. His hands were as huge as Beaumont’s, but his nails were tapered and clean. The light-grey suit was crisp, as if he’d donned it right before coming to the hospital. He seemed perfectly at ease with his surroundings, which made her nervous. She’d worked with agents before on cases—young agents gung-ho to catch the bad guy. Starks looked to be in his midfifties and probably close to retirement. “Seasoned” was the word that popped into her head.

He poured her coffee and passed it over. “You look tired. We can do this later if you’d like.”

Jenna knew her face showed her surprise. “I am tired, Agent Starks. Tired of powerful people pushing me around and lying to me. I was expecting you, or someone like you, until a police chief told me the case in Atlanta had been closed—closed, just like that. So why don’t you tell me what you want and why you were sitting in Michael’s room, waiting for me?”

He poured another cup of coffee, sipped it slowly, and sat down across from her. “How well do you really know Michael Elkins?”

“Michael? I thought you were here to talk about...” Her voice trailed off, a feeling of impending danger settling over her. Everything about the Atlanta shooting was outside the norm. She needed to watch her step and her words.

“About Atlanta?” Starks asked casually.

“About Jordan Elkins and Atlanta.”

“I’m not interested in Jordan Elkins. At least not at the moment. As far as Atlanta is concerned, someone asked us to delay a few things. We chose to go along with that request, and we chose to cover up the mess, for reasons of our own. Right before Agents Simms and Treadmore headed to Atlanta, they got a call from Michael Elkins. They weren’t supposed to be there and definitely were not on bureau business.”

“You cover up a shooting and the death of two federal agents, and you expect me to trust you?” Jenna set her coffee on the table and stood up. “I don’t trust anyone right now—least of all law enforcement.”

“Please, sit down, Miss James. Perhaps after you’ve heard what I have to say, you’ll change your mind. At least, I hope you do.”

Jenna sat and picked up her coffee. “I wouldn’t count on that. You might as well go ahead and kill me because that will be Judge Elkins’s next request.”

Agent Starks nodded. “You’re probably right. It just so happens Elkins picked one of the wrong agents to trust.”

Jenna met his gaze. “You?”

He nodded. “William Elkins is a small fish in a great big pond of larger fish. If he doesn’t get eaten first, he will eventually give me the information I need to clean our own house as well as drain the pond.”

Jenna sipped her coffee. The information sounded genuine. The feds often allowed the lesser criminals to walk around, just for a chance at the guy at the top. Most of the time, that ended in disaster. “I think William Elkins killed his wife. Are you telling me to back off?”

“Would you if I asked you to?”

Jenna straightened her back and met his dark gaze. Looking into his eyes made her shiver. He was a cobra, on edge and ready to strike. “No, I wouldn’t.”

Starks relaxed and sat back in his chair. “In that case, I won’t ask. Is there anything else you want to know?”

“What about the shooter? I mean, he had to know he couldn’t get out of there—that it would be suicide by airport security. Why would someone do that?”

“The shooter was a real nasty guy named Denver Madison. I’m sure you remember him. Marcus Dade represented him about five years ago. He was on trial for killing four young women. You were the prosecutor, and William Elkins was the judge.”

Jenna’s eyes widened. “That was Madison? But he was killed right after he was released. His car blew up.”

Starks nodded. “If you remember, the body was burned beyond recognition. Looks like he owed someone a pretty big favor.”

Jenna’s gaze fell to her taped fingers.
“Just a little reminder of what happens to people who cross me.”

She’d learned more in the past five minutes than in the past three days. There was something about Agent Starks she liked, but something also terrified her—a gnawing gut pain deep inside that said,
Keep your guard up
. “I don’t really know anything about that.”

Agent Starks leaned across the small table and refilled her cup. “I didn’t think you did. So tell me what happened while you were with Simms and Treadmore.”

Jenna shrugged. “They asked us questions about the shooter. If we really thought he was trying to kill us. If we knew him.”

“Did you think he was trying to kill you?”

“I didn’t have any clue who he was, and I didn’t know if he was trying to kill us or not. Jordan thought he was—one of us anyway. Now that I know who he was, probably both of us. Then they told us he shot several other people and we weren’t really the target, just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Starks nodded. “He did shoot four other people. All flesh wounds. Anything else?”

“They told me I could leave, but Jordan had been released into my custody, and I couldn’t do that.”

That seemed to surprise him, and he leaned back, mouth pursed, fingers steepled and tapping together slowly. “What happened when they escorted you out?”

“Jordan knocked me out. I don’t know anything else.”

He smiled softly. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.” He stood up and retrieved a card from his pocket. He glanced at her right hand. “But I do understand your mistrust and your situation.” He handed her the card. “You don’t strike me as the type of person to be fooled easily, Miss James. Nor the type to be scared off a case if you think someone’s guilty. You’re not alone, you know. Call me if you need me.”

“If you’re telling the truth, Agent Starks, you’re playing a dangerous game. We both know there are members of your agency on the payroll of others. Aren’t you afraid one of them will find out about you?”

“There’s always that danger, of course, but if everything goes the way we plan, then we’ll find them too.”

Jenna stood up. “There will always be more. Someone willing to do anything they ask. So why are you doing this?”

His eyes darkened for a moment, and then he smiled. “The same reason you prosecute the bad guys. You’re a damn good lawyer. You could make more money, but then you might find yourself in a position of having to defend one of them. You couldn’t do that any more than I can walk away from this. I do what I do for people like you. If it weren’t for dirty cops, people like William Elkins would have been stopped a long time ago. Take care, Miss James, and don’t trust anyone.” His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkened. “Even me.”

Jenna watched the door close behind him and sank back onto the couch. The FBI was looking for something, something bigger than Elkins. Starks was right—she couldn’t trust anyone, especially him. Not only was he seasoned, he was playing both sides, and she had a feeling he’d do whatever it took to finish the job. Elkins wasn’t the only small fish in a big pond. So was she.

Jenna glanced at her taped fingers. She’d stop by the emergency room and then catch a cab. She really did want to curl up and go to sleep and forget about the Elkinses of the world. Her head was spinning from everything she’d learned as she pondered the information Agent Starks had given her. She’d assumed Judge Elkins had ordered the hit. She’d been wrong. What else had she been wrong about?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Jenna woke to the sound of banging on her door and her phone shrilling. “What now?”

Tossing back the covers, she glanced at the phone, noted it was David, and ignored it. The way her luck was going, he probably wanted to tell her she’d gone from “vacation time” to “fired.” She grabbed a robe, stumbled down the stairs, yanked open the door, and barked, “What?”

Jake Savior grinned at her and pushed his way inside. “I thought prosecutors were morning people. Another myth down the drain.”

Jenna ran a hand through her hair and glanced at Harry, who followed Jake in, although somewhat more slowly. “Sorry we woke you, but it is almost four in the afternoon, and we’ve only got a couple of hours before we have to report to work.”

Jake headed for the kitchen and started the coffee. “What’s for breakfast? I’m starved.”

Harry gave her a lopsided smile. “He’s incorrigible most days and totally impossible on others.”

“Just make yourselves at home, and let me get dressed.”

Jenna dressed quickly, the memory of the early morning meeting with Agent Starks running through her mind. He’d told her to trust no one, but surely that didn’t include Harry and Jake. Sighing, she grabbed the notes Jordan had made on his mother’s beatings. She had to trust someone, and it would be easier for Jake and Harry to track down a doctor or nurse who might be willing to talk. Jordan had told her he would call occasionally. She’d like to be able to report at least a start on the case before he did that.

The smell of frying bacon caused her stomach to rumble, reminding her she hadn’t eaten in at least a day. She entered the kitchen, a smile on her face. Harry was dropping bread into the toaster, and Jake was whistling a snappy tune as he turned the bacon. They looked right at home. “Maybe I should hire you two.”

Harry popped the toast from the toaster, buttered it, and tossed it onto a plate. “Jake does bacon; I do toast. That’s about the extent of our cooking expertise.”

Jenna handed Harry the notebook sheets, opened the refrigerator door, and pulled out eggs, ham, cheese, and assorted vegetables. “I make a great omelet. We can talk about the list while we’re cooking.”

Jake turned the bacon and moved over to allow her room to fix her omelet. “Checked before we came in, and Michael Elkins was released this morning.”

Jenna frowned. “Isn’t that unusual? I mean, I didn’t really talk to him this morning because he was asleep, but even with a minor heart attack, don’t they usually keep you three or four days?”

“If this list is correct, it’s a miracle this woman survived as long as she did,” Harry commented from the table. “Did she ever report it?”

Jenna hesitated for a moment, pouring the egg batter into the skillet and adding chopped vegetables. Damn it, she
had
to trust someone. “According to the man that was with Jordan Elkins, a doctor tried to get her help. The doctor and his entire family were killed. She was probably terrified, not just for herself, but for anyone who got involved.”

Jake transferred the bacon to a plate and slammed the skillet in the sink. “This doctor got a name? Seems like that would be a good place to start?”

Jenna shook her head. “They didn’t give me a name, but it probably wouldn’t matter anyway. Even if the death was suspicious, too much time has passed, and witnesses wouldn’t be perceived as reliable. What we need right now is evidence that Elkins beat his wife. That can get us a full investigation and hopefully lead to proving he killed her. It would also open the door into his cases and his life on the bench, which would hopefully tie in Marcus Dade. Jordan was pretty sure his mother had left some type of proof of his father’s and Dade’s crimes. He’s going to try to find it.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and whistled, long and low. “You’re going after Marcus Dade, too?”

“If he’s guilty, yes, I am.” Jenna turned the omelet. “No one should be above the law, especially an attorney and a judge.” Lifting one edge of the omelet with the spatula, she reached for a plate. “Perfect.”

She transferred the food to the table, where Harry had set up three plates and poured the coffee. “We all want Elkins, but you both know that if we arrest him without sufficient evidence to keep him locked up forever, he’ll walk. We have to keep this quiet until we get that evidence.” Her eyes darkened. “Enough to put him away for the rest of his miserable life.”

Jake nodded, biting into the omelet. “This is good. The undertaker is a good place to start.”

Jenna coughed and reached for a napkin, caught off guard by the quick change of subject. “Undertaker?”

Jake nodded. “He’s the only one other than the coroner who saw what Mrs. Elkins looked like when she came in. And the coroner was probably a friend of Elkins. The body was cremated, wasn’t it?”

Jenna wracked her brain, trying to remember what she’d told them and what she hadn’t. If she was going to work with them, she had to tell them everything. Cremation made sense. Time and days had become confused in her mind. “What day is it?”

“Wednesday.”

“Seriously?”

Jake took a bite of omelet and grinned. “Yep.”

“Elkins broke my finger to remind me of what happened to people who crossed him. He told me his wife had fallen down the stairs that morning, which was yesterday, and died instantly. Her death and what had happened to me caused Michael to have a heart attack. That’s the story I’m supposed to tell. The truth is she died in Kentucky either on Sunday or Monday morning. Michael told me before he left they were having a service in Kentucky that evening, and then they were bringing the body back here for interment. All of it lies.”

“According to the paper, she died after falling at the family home here on Tuesday morning. Looks like he’s got some powerful friends,” Jake said.

“Here maybe, but not in Kentucky. That’s why Michael was in such a rush to get there and keep Jordan from getting there. I’ll bet they flew her back here without anyone in Kentucky knowing she’d died.”

Jake rose and reached for the coffeepot, which was almost empty. “Anybody want more?”

Jenna and Harry shook their heads.

“Somebody in Kentucky knows, and you know, so clearly they planned on getting rid of you too,” Jake said.

“There was a federal agent at the hospital last night. He said Michael sent the agents to Atlanta, and they weren’t there on bureau business.” She turned to Harry. “Remember Denver Madison?”

Harry nodded. “That was the first time I met you. Bad hombre.”

“He was the shooter.”

“What!” Harry knocked over his coffee, and Jenna leapt up to get out of the way. Grabbing a dish towel, she soaked up the mess.

“That’s what Agent Starks told me. I think they’re investigating Michael and Judge Elkins.”

Jake threw her a roll of paper towels. “You guys want to fill me in on what you’re talking about?”

Harry took the paper towels and cleaned up the rest of the mess. “It was right after you were knifed trying to break up that bar fight. You were on sick leave, so you and Cara went on your second honeymoon. A girl stumbled out of the woods. She’d been tortured and raped. She wouldn’t talk to anyone except Jenna. With her help, we arrested Denver Madison. Marcus Dade represented him, and Judge Elkins let him out on bail. A car was found the next morning, burned with a body inside it. The coroner identified it as Denver Madison. Case closed.”

Jake glanced at the clock. “We need to head in. You plan on going anywhere today?”

“I was going to the hospital to see Michael, but I guess that’s out. I really need to call a locksmith and get the locks changed. And I need to buy a new cell phone. I still haven’t received my purse from Atlanta.” She glanced at the mess still cluttering her living room floor. “And I need to get this cleaned up.”

Harry reached inside his jacket and pulled out a small derringer. “I figure you don’t have one, and you may need it. It’s not great unless you’re close up.”

Jenna took the gun and dropped it into the silverware drawer. “I don’t really like guns, but I know where it’s at if I need it.”

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