Deep Within The Shadows (The Superstition Series Book 1) (11 page)

E
arly morning sun
glinted off the parallel rows of windshields. It was ten o’clock, and the hospital parking lot was close to capacity already. Caleb scanned every shadow between the cars. Nothing moved. But then they wouldn’t know if anything was there until Miranda and Juliet emerged into the sunlight.

Trying to keep both of them covered was a fucking nightmare, especially since he didn’t know how these shadow creatures worked. Could they appear in sunlight as easily as they did under streetlights? They needed to figure out what they were fighting and how to fight them. He’d bet firearms wouldn’t work. It would be like shooting smoke. But there had to be a weapon they could use against them.

Jesus, this was crazy!

Oliver Sparks pulled up in the cab Caleb had ordered earlier. Oliver had a fleet of four cabs, and as a second, part-time job, Caleb did all their maintenance. As a perk, he could catch a ride whenever he needed, but this was the first time he’d taken advantage of the offer.

He turned and motioned to the two women sitting in the lobby behind him. In looks they were very much alike. Even their facial expressions and mannerisms were very similar. But there was a hard edge to Juliet which Mandy didn’t have. He’d tried to pinpoint exactly when Juliet cultivated it, and narrowed it down to middle school. It had gotten sharper in high school, especially after she was attacked in the girl’s restroom her junior year in high school.

There was something different about her now. There’d been rapier sharpness to her wit, bitterness behind it. Now she’d grown quieter, more introverted.

Had Tanner Newton’s death hit her that hard?

She had watched a man die. It changed you. He knew firsthand.

He watched the sisters argue about who would step outside first.

Juliet strode forward, her spike-heeled boots eating up the distance. Dressed in leather pants and a leather corset, she looked like a cross between a hooker and a Comic-Con look-alike of Kate Beckinsale from an
Underworld
movie. She certainly got everyone’s head turning in the lobby.

“I’m going first. If something’s out there waiting for us—there’s no sense in both of us having our asses hanging out there, when one will do.” Her voice still sounded as if it were slowly traveling through a meat grinder.

He wanted to agree with her, but every protective instinct he had was spiraling tighter. The damn things didn’t seem to be after him, only the women. But he’d learned from seeing Samuel Newton’s condition that they didn’t want any interference and would attack anyone who got between them and their target. Not that he had any idea how he could protect her if one of them did decide to rise from the pavement between them and the cab.

“Come on, Caleb. The car is waiting, and you know you don’t want Miranda to have to go out there.”

“I don’t want you to, either.”

Juliet patted his chest and smiled. “That was sweet. I’ll be fine.” She pushed through the inner door into the vestibule. Her steps hitched once before she hit the door handle and took two long strides out into the sunshine.

Caleb double-timed it to hold the door open in case she needed to leap back in. One second passed like an eternity. Then another. Nothing happened.

“Come on, you two. I’ve had enough of this place,” Juliet said, then slid into the cab.

“Damn her,” Miranda muttered with a frown. “She’s always got to grab the bull by the—”

Caleb stifled a laugh as she cut herself off. “I’ll be right behind you on the bike.” He ushered her outside and into the cab.

He shook Oliver’s hand briefly and thanked him, then jogged across the parking lot to retrieve his motorcycle. He wove through traffic at a bit more than the speed limit to catch up to them, and pulled into Miranda’s driveway just as they were exiting the cab.

The small, white, vinyl-sided house sat centered in a postage-stamp yard. Its best feature was the porch stretching across the front. A swing and several lawn chairs were arranged in a grouping at one end, where he’d sometimes been invited to share a glass of iced tea with Mandy of an evening. She’d been wary of more than food or drink.

Why did she continue to throw up barriers between them? She’d written him faithfully during his deployment, and then as soon as he returned home, she backed off so fast he’d been left confused and hurt.

Her letters had kept him going, probably kept him alive. They’d been filled with news from home, and insights about the townspeople who frequented the library since the college had opened its doors to them. In such a small community, everyone knew everyone else, but there was something elusive, something he couldn’t figure out about her. Something she hadn’t shared with him. He’d get her to open up soon or later, though. He was making progress.

He thanked Oliver once more before rushing up on the porch just as she was pulling out her key. “I want to check the house before you two go in. Just to be sure there are no surprises.”

“There’s no way to know until the two of us walk inside.” Miranda reminded him. “I’m almost certain one was in the library last night.”

“I saw one in the mirror at the club last night, but the light swung away before it could attack me, and it disappeared,” Juliet added.

“Why was it able to come into the library and the club, but not The Dish?” Miranda asked.

No one bothered to answer.

“Before we go in, it might be a good thing to sit down and discuss why,” Caleb suggested.

The twins exchanged a glance. Miranda settled on the porch swing and Juliet on one of the chairs.

He leaned back on the porch railing and studied them both. “The first rule of engagement is to learn as much as you can about the enemy before taking them on. We need to pool our knowledge so we can do that.”

Both women nodded.

“I overheard what you were talking about last night.” Some he’d understood, and other things he’d have to wait for Miranda to explain, if she ever opened up to him. “Why do you believe these things have something to do with Tanner Newton, Juliet?”

“One of the men responsible for killing him was captured yesterday and the other one killed. Detective Robinson said they hadn’t figured out what had killed Porter yet. Not that he’d been stabbed or shot, but they literally didn’t know what had killed him. Just like the doctors couldn’t figure out why my throat looks burned or Miranda’s arm looks like lighting zapped her. And the timing seems damn convenient for all this to go down as soon as Abbott was captured.”

“You can identify this Abbott guy?”

“Yes. I identified him for the police right after Tanner’s death.”

“So do you think Abbott is responsible for these attacks?”

“He beat Tanner to death, and he knows I’m the one who identified him.”

“Have you ever seen him at Steampunk Alley?”

“No, but the place is always packed, and the girls serve the drinks I fix. Or at least all but the people sitting at the bar. He could have been there without my ever knowing it.”

Caleb turned to Miranda. “Do you know what he looks like?”

“Yes. I saw his picture in the paper after the killing. I haven’t seen him at the library. It’s a big place, though, so it would be easy for him to slip in unnoticed or come in on my days off.”

He nodded. “It’s just a theory, but if he’s the cause of these attacks, he might have had to come into those places to open the way for these things to enter. We were at The Dish right after this started, and they couldn’t get in there.”

“It would be hard to do that in every store or restaurant a person frequents,” Miranda said. “And there’s no way he’s ever been inside my house.”

“Okay.” He felt moderately better about letting them go inside. “But I still want to check the place out, to make sure nothing’s out of place.”

Miranda extended the keys to him.

Caleb slipped the key in the lock, twisted it, and disappeared inside.

*     *     *

Taking advantage of
their moment of privacy, Juliet asked, “If Abbott isn’t the cause, has anyone new or different been in your house in the last few weeks?”

“No. I come home, go to bed, then get back up and go to work. It’s been weeks since anyone has been here except me or Caleb.”

They fell silent for a moment. It was almost painful to watch her sister and Caleb long for each other, love each other, and be so closed off by the past.

“It isn’t fair to him, Miranda. He won’t leave you as long as he believes there’s a chance. You either have to let him in or shut him down and send him away.”

Miranda clenched her hands in her lap.

“We’ve more than paid for the past. Paid with blood, sweat, tears, and any happiness we’ve ever hoped to have. It’s time to let it rest and move on.”

Her gaze jerked up to meet hers. “You’re one to talk, Juliet.”

“But I never really had a chance, Miranda. As much as I cared for Tanner, I didn’t love him. You have a shot at the real thing. Take it.”

“And if he finds out what I did, what I am?”

“No one knows but us. And I’d die before I’d tell anyone.” The only way Caleb Faulkner would find anything out is if Miranda told him herself.

“Forget about the past, Miranda. Love him. Let him love you. You both deserve it.” Juliet swallowed. “The ones you can trust are few and far between. Caleb is one of the good guys. He’d die for you.”

“I know. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Juliet started to say something more, but hearing Caleb coming back, hesitated.

Miranda’s words hung between them until Caleb appeared and held open the door. “It looks clear.”

C
hase knelt next
to the body and looked down into the man’s glassy, dirt-brown eyes. The local coroner, Charles Brewster, squatted next to him. Brewster spoke his observations aloud. “There’s no blunt force trauma, no stabbing, nothing. It looks like he went to sleep and just died. Estimated time of death is about three this morning.”

Right after Chase brought him in and left for the hospital to interview the twins. Abbott had died, and no one had entered his cell or seen a thing. How was that possible?

“It could have been a drug overdose. I’ll have to do an autopsy and send in a tox screen.”

This man hadn’t died of a drug overdose. He’d been searched before being put in a cell. And poison left some kind of clue, foam around the mouth, a bitten tongue, evidence of a seizure. The only evidence of anything was a small rim of blood around one nostril.

His autopsy results were going to come back the same as Willy Porter’s. Chase would bet his paycheck.

Willy Porter’s body had been discovered in an alley. He was stretched out peacefully on his back, as though he’d just lain down and died. No trauma other than the healing track marks on his arms and inflamed, eroded nasal passages from sniffing cocaine. At first the coroner had thought he died of an overdose, too. But the tox screen found no drugs in his system.

What would cause a hard-core addict to quit shooting up or snorting within a matter of weeks? Something that required him to stay alert. Like some kind of gray shadow creature?

“Can you put a rush on the autopsy? I need to know if he died of the same thing as Porter.”

“Yeah, I can fax you the autopsy results in three or four hours.”

“Thanks. In fact, call me when you get ready to do it, and I’ll drive over and watch.”

“If that’s what you want.”

The two of them stood back while the one of the patrol officers he’d called in took more photos of the scene, and two deputy jailers helped place the body in a body bag, zip it, and heft it onto the gurney.

Any death at the jail had to be investigated, and as the first responding officer, it would fall to him. He’d have to rule out staff neglect and clear them of any culpability first. Abbott’s high-profile assault and murder of Tanner Newton guaranteed they needed every I dotted and every T crossed.

He wended his way back through the maze of hallways to the main security control center. They might be in Podunk, Kentucky, population in the city limits only fourteen thousand citizens and fifteen thousand college students, but the state had made sure they had enough security to properly serve and protect them all.

As his first order of business, he requested the security tapes from last night starting from the time Abbott was arrested until the present.

When Chase knocked on the edge of his doorframe, Chief Jailer Herman Franks looked up. He ran a tight ship. In spite of the many prisoners cycling through the place, it was always clean, and there’d never been allegations of abuse against any of his deputies.

Franks went on the defensive before Chase ever made it into the room. “None of my deputies did anything to your suspect.”

“I don’t think they did, either. But I have to follow procedure, Herman. I need to talk to them. So I’d appreciate a list of everyone who was working last night and their phone numbers. I’ll call them myself, and set up a time for them to come in for an interview.”

Franks relaxed somewhat.

“This was a high-profile arrest, Herman. And you and I both know the sooner we clear your guys, the sooner life returns to normal.”