Deep Within The Shadows (The Superstition Series Book 1) (12 page)

“Okay.”

“Did anyone visit or call the jail demanding to see Abbott?”

“No. We processed him and put him in a cell by himself. Scott and Bowhan took turns walking through, checking the prisoners every twenty minutes. There were ten other prisoners in the unit last night.”

“I’ll want to talk to the other prisoners. Maybe someone heard something.”

“Okay.”

“Did anyone besides your deputy jailers and the prisoners come into the unit?”

“No.”

“Anything out of the ordinary happen?”

“Everything was quiet. Scott’s wife dropped his dinner off about two-thirty. He’d left it on the counter at the house.”

“Did she come into the unit?”

“No. She left it with Harvey Sutton at the front desk.”

“Does she usually visit that late?”

“No. It was the first time she’s ever been here. We don’t let just anyone wander around here, Robinson. Some of the people who come through are just college kids who have made a mistake. We try to segregate the population so the party boys don’t get mixed in with the drug addicts and hard cases.”

“Okay. Scott’s wife left the bag at the front desk around two-thirty and didn’t come in. Anything else out of the ordinary?”

“No.”

“All right. I’ll be calling your guys to set up interviews. I’d appreciate it if you’d tell them not to drag their heels and try to avoid it.”

“They’ll cooperate or they’ll be out of here.”

“Good. Thanks.” Chase offered his hand and Franks shook.

“Before I go upstairs, I want to interview the other prisoners.”

“You’re welcome to use my office.”

Franks left to bring in the first prisoner, and Chase reached for his cell phone. With his partner still out on family leave, he’d need help or he’d be down here for hours. He called Garr. “They found Abbott dead in his cell this morning. I’m down at the jail and could use your help.”

“We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

He’d hoped for Garr alone. If Underwood fucked things up, he’d see his ass back on patrol.

Chase had hit his rhythm with the second interview by the time Garr showed up. He handed off the list of questions he had formulated.

Two hours later they met in Franks’ office to compare notes. “None of mine saw or heard a damn thing,” Garr said as he slumped into the only chair.

“None of mine either,” Underwood added.

“I’d like a copy of your notes for the file, and you’ll need to write up a report on each interview.”

Underwood grimaced. Chase wondered if he’d even taken notes.

“A prisoner died in the custody of our department. Unless you want the state guys coming in, we do this by the book.”

“Okay,” Underwood nodded and shifted his bulk from one foot to the other.

“Any news from the M.E.?” Garr asked.

“No, not yet. I’ve got a list of the men who were working last night. There were only five. I’d appreciate it if you two would call them and set up times for interviews before their shifts while I look through the video from last night.”

“We can take care of this,” Garr said.

“Okay.” Chase rose, gave the list to Garr, and reached for his own notes and the CDs security had given him.

Chase took the elevator upstairs to homicide. With the other four detectives out on assignment, the room was quiet. He sat down at his desk and popped in the CD. It had recorded twelve hours of images, but all he needed was the time between when Abbott entered the cell until his body was discovered.

He watched the time stamp on the screen as Abbott, now dressed in an orange jumpsuit with his hair still slicked back from a shower, was escorted to his cell. He recognized Scott and Bowhan, whom he’d seen numerous times while walking prisoners down. The two deputies stood outside the cell while the deputy in the security room shut the door automatically. They turned and wandered back up the hall, each pausing here and there to check on other inmates.

As per protocol in the unit, one of the men walked the hall and checked the prisoners every twenty minutes. Bowhan took the first watch after sealing Abbott into his cell. He was carrying a paper lunch sack and a bottle of water, and he paused outside Abbott’s cell and offered both items to the prisoner.

Abbott accepted them and Bowhan went on his way.

Twenty minutes later Scott had the duty. He sauntered by, paused to say something to Abbott, and continued down the aisle.

After watching the monotony of their routine, Chase was grateful for his job.

Chase removed his cell phone from his pocket and called Garr. “Make sure you ask Bowhan what was in the lunch bag he gave Abbott after he locked him in his cell. I’m sure it was food. But you need to identify what it was.”

“Was there a possibility that Abbott died from poisoning?” Garr asked.

“There were no outward signs of poisoning, but we won’t know until the tox screen comes back. We still need everything checked out.”

“I’ll make a point of asking them both about it separately.”

“Good. Thanks.” He hung up and went back to the video.

By the time he’d watched the video pass the five o’clock time stamp, he knew neither deputy had set foot in Abbott’s cell after securing him inside.

He ejected the CD and popped in the other one. He’d asked for the video footage at the end of the hall so he could watch the security walk-throughs. This camera was positioned closer to Abbott’s cell.

He started the CD in real time at 2:30. He could see how the light slanted into the cell, though the interior lights had been extinguished. At ten minutes after three, there was movement inside the cell. The cell door remained closed, but a gray figure rose against the bars, one arm and hand clearly visible.

Chase hit pause, freezing the image. A minute passed as he studied the frame. He took a screen shot of the image and enlarged it as much as he could. The arm and hand were strangely elongated, the outline of the fingers smudged as if the image were caught in the moment of action.

Abbott had been issued an orange jump suit and had been wearing it when Scott and Bowhan escorted him to his cell. No orange showed on the arm of the image. There was nothing gray in any of the cells. The sheets on the bunks were white and the blankets Kentucky blue.

Abbott had told him someone was after him, and he’d been terrified. But the story he’d told was too crazy to believe.

Just like the twins at the hospital last night.

And Tanner Newton’s brother. The story the man had babbled to the nurse sounded nearly identical to Abbott’s. Creatures rising from a pool of light to attack them. Creatures who had terrorized Porter and Abbott for the two months they’d been on the run.

It had to be Abbott inside the cell. To think it was anything else would be crazy. Wouldn’t it? A quiver ran through the pit of his stomach. It had to be Abbott. Because if it wasn’t—What the hell…?

He didn’t even know how to finish the thought.

Chase wrote down the time stamp at the corner of the video. He’d have to take it down to the computer lab and get them to enhance the image.

He caught the elevator down two floors and quickly handed off the CD to a lab tech with a post-it note attached with the time frame where he wanted the video enlarged and explored.

On the way back up to his office other thoughts ran through his mind.

Who hated Juliet Templeton enough to want her dead? And why hadn’t they followed through after Tanner was killed? He thought that through, running scenarios in his head.

Because their focus had been to separate Juliet and Tanner. When Tanner died, the focus had changed to killing the two men responsible for his death.

And now those two men were dead, the person who’d hired Abbott and Porter had all the time in the world to go after Juliet.

But two months had passed since the original attack, and though she’d been injured the night before, the chances of getting protection for her or her sister were slim.

He had to warn them both.

He tugged his phone out of his jacket pocket when it buzzed. But first he had to go to an autopsy.

“W
here do we
go from here?” Juliet asked.

Miranda turned to study her sister. The blue scarf she’d loaned her hid the horrible reddish bruise around her throat. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a summer sweater from Miranda’s closet, her face free of makeup, Juliet looked younger, less hardened.

“The library to do research. I thought it might be a good idea to see if we can learn anything about these creatures before it gets dark.”

Juliet nodded.

“Caleb will be here with my car in a few minutes.”

“Okay.” Juliet reached for her oversized bag and dug inside to pull out a tube of lip-gloss and some blush. She used a mirror by the front door to smooth both on.

Miranda debated on whether or not to comment on her sister’s new look. “I like you with less makeup.”

Juliet raised a brow and looked at her through the mirror. “You’re supposed to like me no matter what I look like.”

“I always have.”

“No you haven’t,” she answered with some of her normal edge, sounding like a six-pack a day smoker, which somehow made the attitude seem stronger. “But that’s okay. I haven’t always liked myself either.”

“But you’re better now?”

She nodded. “Sometimes.”

Miranda struggled to suppress the tears and failed. “I’m glad.” She turned aside to get her own purse.

“If I can set aside some of my issues, you can lay down some of yours, Miranda.”

“With Caleb, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

Miranda looked up from her useless search through her purse. “What if they find him?” She still couldn’t bring herself to say her stepfather’s name aloud.

“They won’t. He’s gone for good.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because three months ago I made certain of it.”

Her heart skipped a beat before taking flight. Her breaths echoed loud in her ears. “What did you do, Juliet?”

“Clay Maddox will never be spoken of between us again in this lifetime, because he’s no longer an issue for either of us.”

“How could you—” Miranda cut herself off and studied her sister.

“You did the right thing nine years ago, Miranda. I did the right thing three months ago. Hell, I should have done it years ago, and I did try several times, but I lost my nerve. But now it’s time for us both to be done with this particular burden.”

Miranda searched her heart to feel how the suggestion resonated. “Are you sure?” Her gaze searched Juliet’s soul.

“Short of being shot to the moon, he couldn’t be any further out of reach.”

The fear Miranda had lived with for so long lifted a little. “Why didn’t you let me help you?” she asked.

“Because I needed to do it myself. To face him one more time and wreak my own revenge. And it was sweet.” A triumphant smile lit Juliet’s face.

Miranda’s residual fear evaporated completely. She felt lighter, and her lungs could finally expand to their full capacity. “I wish you’d told me sooner.”

“I got tangled up with the police investigation when Tanner died, and I thought I needed to keep my distance.”

She’d protected Juliet nine years ago in the only way she could, and now Juliet had done the same for her. Miranda reached for her and they clung together. The distance between them no longer felt so wide.

She’d done the unthinkable, and one day she’d have to pay for it, but it was all worth it if Juliet could begin to heal. The guilt for not being able to protect her eased some.

When they heard a knock, they parted, and she went to open the door.

Caleb brought in with him the aroma of burgers and fries. He looked alert, though she knew he’d stayed up nearly all night on watch at the hospital.

He’d just gotten back from a war zone. What kind of effect was this having on him?

“Did you have any trouble?” Miranda asked.

“No. I thought we could use something to eat before we head to the library.”

That brief
no
concerned her. There was something in his voice when he said it. But she certainly agreed with food. They adjourned to sit at her small kitchen table, where she took the drink orders for iced tea and got busy preparing them.

Caleb joined her at the refrigerator. “You can’t do this one-handed,” he said, nodding toward the sling cradling her arm. He handed her the glasses to fill with ice, then reached into the refrigerator to get the pitcher of iced tea and pour it. He scooped the glasses up and carried them to the table while Julia got plates out of the cabinet.

They ate in companionable silence for a while. When Miranda sprinkled a few fries on her plate and put the rest on his, he shot her a grin. Every patient, kind thing he had done in the last six months unfolded in her mind’s eye in a rush. He deserved much more than she had given him. For every moment he had loved her, he deserved everything in return.

The constant fear of having her secret discovered had eaten away at her life and Julia’s like the gravity of a black hole. Every moment of joy had been sucked away. But no more. If they survived this, they were both going to put their lives back together as sisters, and as women. And witches.