Celeste Files: Unjust (18 page)

Denis cleared his throat. “I apologize for wanting to beat the shit out of Gabe. Please, dumbass, tell us what happened during the storm.”

“Denis busted the radio when I tried to call for help.”

“Hell, yeah, I did. Now, why in the world would I want the Coast Guard coming to my rescue when I’ve got a stolen woman on my boat?”

“When the Cajun Lady started taking on water, the engine shut down.” Gabe stared at her with hatred. “Denis was trying to steer us toward Chokoloskee Bay, but the wind and waves were too much. He sent me below deck to turn on the pumps and try to get rid of some of the water. When I got to the cabin, I knew there was no way we were going to make it. The water was already past my knees, and the pump was buried beneath it. So I untied the girl, gave her a lifejacket, grabbed one for myself, then headed back up top.”

“Pay attention, detectives,” Denis said. “Here’s where Gabe’s gonna admit to conspiring to murder me.”

Gabe glared at her. “When I reached the deck, I kept the girl behind me so Denis wouldn’t see her. I knew the Cajun Lady was going to sink. But it was so black out, and I didn’t know which way was which, I wanted to hear from Denis how far we were from Chokoloskee Bay. I know that bay, and just about every little island in it.”

“Your intent was to take the girl and try to make it to safety,” Nick said.

“Yes, sir. Didn’t work that way. The wind was blowing so hard, and waves were tossin’ water onto the boat and turning us on our side, I didn’t see Denis come up beside me until it was too late.”

“That’s right, asshole,” Denis said. “After all your bellyaching about the girl, I didn’t trust you.”

“You keep calling me a dumbass or an asshole, when you were the one stupid enough to try to throw the net on us.”

Denis’s memories flooded Celeste’s head again.
Wind whipped rain and salt water at him, burning his eyes and stinging his face like hundreds of bees. Damn it, he needed a lifejacket, but he couldn’t let Gabe and the girl escape. They had to go down with the Cajun Lady. He’d planned to kill Gabe anyway. Too bad he’d lose his boat in the process. Too bad he’d lost his gun to a wave. The net and knife would have to do.

Celeste sensed a sudden change in Denis. The anger remained, along with the need for vengeance. Still, there was something else. Fear? Had Denis been afraid of Gabe and the girl? And why wasn’t he responding?

“Denis threw the net on me and came at me with his knife,” Gabe continued, along with more of Denis’s memories.

He plunged the knife toward Gabe, but the man blocked him with his forearm, then delivered a right hook. Denis saw stars and staggered backward, tripping into the netting, trying desperately to find something to latch onto to keep from falling into the water. He grabbed onto the railing as the boat lifted again, pushing him toward Gabe and the girl instead of overboard.

He knew they were cooked. Knew he couldn’t kill Gabe and the woman if he was dead. Primal instinct, the fight to live outweighed his fear of Gabe or the girl reaching shore before him and going to police. But the only way to survive the storm was with a lifejacket.

Forgetting about Gabe and the girl—for now—he rushed toward the cockpit where there were extra lifejackets, lost his balance and fell forward. The knife slipped from his hand. Panicking, realizing his boot was tangled in the netting he reached for the knife to cut himself free. The girl grabbed it before he had the chance.

Denis quickly moved to his knees, but the girl was faster. She came at him, swiping the knife, forcing him to move backward. He reached the deck railing. Another wave crashed onto the boat. Terror gripped him by the throat and squeezed. The boat lifted, and the girl tumbled down on him.

“
¡Asesinó a mi hermana! ¡Quemadura en infierno!
” she screamed over the wind and rain. Lightning flashed, revealing the hatred on her face as she plunged the knife into his chest.

Pain radiated from his chest to every part of his body. He yelled out, stared at the knife still impaling him, watched as Gabe and the girl ran past him, then jumped into the water. Fuckers. He’d show them. He’d find a damned lifejacket, find them and make them suffer.

Denis roared as he pulled the knife from his body. Breathing hard, fighting the pain, he reached down to cut the netting away. The boat tilted, this time knocking him into the stormy waters. The net latched onto the strong current and pulled him under. Still holding the knife, trying desperately to fight the panic, he curled his body and reached for the boot knotted in the netting. When the need to breathe was too overpowering, he let go of the knife and swam. Despite the excruciating pain in his chest and the weight of the net, he surfaced. He dragged in deep breaths, then cried out just as the Cajun Lady keeled over, its stern cracking him in the head.

The current pulled him under. He fought to remain conscious, fought to keep air in his lungs. The deep, aching throb in his chest matched the one in his head. He thought his lungs might burst. God, he needed to breathe.

Instinct had him opening his mouth and dragging in deep gulps. He stopped fighting. A sweet state of peace settled over him. His chest no longer burned with pain, but there was another fire. Deep in his soul, hatred and vengeance raged.

“I tried to hold on to the girl’s hand,” Gabe was saying, as Celeste snapped out of Denis’s memories. “But a large wave hit us and we were separated. I swam toward her, but the current kept pulling me away. I hope to God Jane Doe is her. I wanted to save her.” Gabe stared at Celeste with narrowed eyes. “I wanted to let everyone know what you are.”

She blinked several times when Denis didn’t respond, then let out a sigh of relief. “Denis isn’t here, it’s me. But he showed me how he died.” He’d also showed her how his hatred and need for revenge had infected his soul and had damned him to his own private hell. “Gabe, why didn’t you tell the detectives this from the beginning?”

“Who’d have believed me? If me and the girl survived together, I would’ve, because she could back my story.” He looked to the detectives. “Have you asked her about Denis?”

“She refuses to speak,” Nick said. “Between coming from a foreign country, not speaking English or having no knowledge of our laws, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was worried she would go to prison for murder.”

“Nick,” Celeste began, “the girl shouted something before she stabbed Denis. She said, ‘
Asesinó a mi hermana. Quemadura en infierno
’. Can you translate that?”

“You murdered my sister. Burn in hell.”

“How much do you want to bet the girl Denis shot is Jane Doe’s sister?” John asked.

Jerry blew out a breath and stood. “Gabe, a deputy is going to take you back to your cell.”

“Am I still going to be tried for murder?” Gabe asked.

“We’ll be in touch with your attorney.”

Celeste’s shoulders and wrists ached from being cuffed. Anxious to have them off, she let John help her up, and walk toward the door.

“Celeste,” Gabe called.

She turned. “Yes?”

“Thank you for coming today. I hope Denis doesn’t bother you anymore.”

For the first time since touching Denis’s boot, the air around her was lighter, cleaner, cooler. She wasn’t one hundred percent certain, but exposing Denis for the vile creature he had been, and showing him that she wasn’t weak and couldn’t be controlled might have driven her ghost away. “Me, too,” she said, and left the room.

While Nick removed the handcuffs, she stared at her husband’s back, willing him to turn and look at her. She wanted him to see her, not the ghost that had possessed her. When he didn’t, she held back the disappointment. “Is it still okay for me to go through the rest of the photos?” she asked Jerry.

“Absolutely. We’ve got a room ready for you.”

When Jerry started to walk away, she tapped John’s shoulder. “Are you still going to stay with me?” she asked, worried he wouldn’t. She could handle the readings and visions alone, but she’d rather have him by her side. These poor women had been abused and discarded as if they were broken objects. Being surrounded by their damaged spirits had made her heart ache for each of them. With John in the room, her heart still ached, but at least he had been there for her, keeping her grounded, and reminding her that she was alive and loved.

He finally faced her, his eyes unreadable. “Sure.”

Relieved, she smiled and placed her hand in his. She knew their problems weren’t over, but she was hopeful. Once she was certain, she would find a way to convince him Denis was gone. They also needed to discus the stress that weighed on both of them, and how they had to learn to lean on each other for support better than they had been.

Jerry opened a door. “Nick and I are going to head to the hospital and meet with Jane Doe. Do you need anything before we leave?”

John stopped at the threshold. “A deputy outside the room and one on the other side of the one-way mirror.”

Jerry slid his gaze to Nick’s and nodded. “That was the plan.”

John gave her a weak smile, and entered the room. Shocked and embarrassed, she followed her husband. She understood last night couldn’t have been easy for John, and she figured she would need to prove to him that she could learn to control her mind in order to prevent another
possession
from ever happening again.

But his lack of trust hurt. Badly.

Chapter 13

CELESTE STEPPED FROM the Sheriff’s Office, and squinted against the late afternoon sun. “Thanks for sticking it out with me,” she said, walking with John to the rented sedan. “That took longer than I expected.”

“If the leads from the visions pan out, it’ll be worth it.”

She prayed he was right. Of the twenty-five pictures she’d gone through this morning and afternoon, she’d been able to reach seventeen women. A few had given her their full names, others had given her the location of their bodies, and a couple had showed her the faces of their killers. Between the women she’d connected with, there had been dozens and dozens of other clues that the detectives might be able to use, but one thing each woman had in common had been who had abducted them—Denis.

God, she hated him, and hoped that wherever he was now, he understood the true meaning of suffering. Since her part in the investigation had come to an end, she told herself that would be the last time she’d think about Denis. He wasn’t worth her energy. Instead, she needed to focus on what she’d learned from him. That allowing the small stresses, or even the big ones, to weigh her down only weakened her spirit, and left her mind vulnerable to attacks. Essentially, Denis had attacked her. He’d robbed her of control, and had come between her and John. But she’d fought him. Unfortunately, that fight wasn’t over.

John’s request for a deputy to watch over them during her readings had upset her. While his lack of trust was understandable, she wondered how long it would take to regain his trust and prove to him that he could sleep peacefully without worrying about being stabbed during the night.

Once they were seated in the car, he turned to her. “Do you want to pick up food on the way to the condo, order in or eat the lunchmeat in the fridge? Or, since it’s only five-thirty, we could go to the beach or the pool if you want.”

“It’s your call. I’m more interested in a shower and a couple glasses of wine, than food. I don’t have much of an appetite anyway.”

He pulled out of the parking lot. “So no beach or pool?”

“I’m sorry, hon. I’m drained. You can go without me. We still have three more days here. Let’s plan on making the most of them starting tomorrow.”

“I’m training the next two mornings.”

“That’s okay. I’ll hang out with Barney. When you’re finished, we can find something fun to do.”

“I guess.”

“You guess what?” she asked, growing irritated. Yes, she’d unknowingly tried to stab him and probably had no right to be irritated, but she couldn’t help it. She hadn’t asked for Denis to enter her life. She hadn’t wanted to be part of murder and human trafficking investigations. They couldn’t turn back time, she couldn’t take back fishing with Barney and reeling in Denis’s boot. All she—they—could do was move forward.

“I guess we can find something fun to do. Not sure what, though.”

“I can dress up like a clown and make you animal balloons,” she said, hoping her sarcasm came across. She didn’t like the passive-aggressive crap John was pulling on her. Normally, if he had an issue with her, he came right out and said what was on his mind. There’d been times when she’d wished he’d kept his mouth shut, but she was certain that during the two and a half years of their marriage, he’d felt the same way about her. Regardless, once they’d had it out, knew where the other stood, they were able to work through whatever issue was on the agenda. If anything, those arguments brought them closer. But John showed no signs of wanting to be close. Instead, he was pushing her away.

“Cut the crap, Celeste. I don’t need it.”

“Like I need yours.”

He released a deep breath. “I don’t know why you’re being hostile. If anyone should be pissed, it should be me. I’m the one who was the brunt of your ghost’s sick game. Then I had to sit for hours while you hung out with dead women.”

“Well, that wasn’t too much of a dick thing to say.”