Devils Among Us (Devin Dushane Series Book 1) (21 page)

“For the love of pete, Shane! You are going to get yourself
killed sneaking up on me!”

Continuing to hold her against him, Shane didn’t look
apologetic. “I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you! I even said your name, but
that mutt drowned me out.” He took a moment to glare at Bo through the screen
door. “I was out back making sure everything looked secure, and it does, so you
don’t need to be jumpy.”

The last thing Devin wanted was Shane Whitlock thinking she
needed a white knight to protect her from things that go bump in the night, but
she didn’t have the mental energy to argue right now.

“Let’s just run.”

It was actually peaceful running with Shane. They ran
without speaking, just their feet keeping perfect cadence. Neither one had to
adjust their stride, so it was comfortable to keep pace together. Not that
Devin would admit that they were such a good match. After twenty minutes, they
were jogging in place on the corner of Main and Kearney, waiting for the light
to change, when Devin suddenly asked, “Where’s Laney buried?”

“Umm, Park Grove I think. Why?”

“Can we jog to it from here?”

“Sure, it’s over by the high school. I’d say that’s less
than a mile.” He had stopped jogging and was looking concerned. “Again, why?
Are you planning to trespass in a cemetery after dark?”

Her mischievous smile had accompanied many trips to the principal’s
office. When the light finally changed she started jogging backwards. “It’s not
trespassing when you’re the law!”

It took quite a while to locate the headstone in the dark.
Park Grove cemetery was located on the side of a hill in one of the oldest
parts of the town. The paths were steep and rocky, winding through patches of
gravesites rather than rows. Every so often a cluster of trees would split a
path and make a new branch of graves. They were about to call off the search to
return during daylight when Shane spotted the granite angel forty yards away.
There, Laney was buried next to her parents Carol and David under a white
granite angel that read:

Laney Catherine Bennett

June 17 1946–May 17, 1964

Beloved Daughter, Sister and Friend

Taken From Us Too Soon

Devin spent equal time studying the headstones of the
grandparents she had never known. All Devin remembered of Grandma Bennett was
her time in the mental hospital. As Devin looked at her grave she wondered what
she might have been like as a new bride and young mother, when she was vibrant
and healthy. When Laney was alive. When Grandpa Bennett was alive. Shane had
been very still until now.

“Your Grandfather was a police officer?” His voice was low
and rough in a quiet reverence.

She nodded. “He was killed in the line of duty. Dad was six
and Laney was four. Grandma went out and got a job to support them, worked her
fingers to the bone to keep her little family together. When Laney was murdered,
she just started unraveling.” Devin had been crouched down at the foot of the
graves, but she stood up now and looked Shane in the eye, sadness darkening the
velvet. “The only thing I remember about her is that when I was a little kid, we’d
go visit her at Western State, and she’d go on and on about Hell being empty because
all of the devils were among us. I know now that she was roughly quoting
Shakespeare’s
Othello
.” They started back down the path. “Then I thought
she was completely crazy, but she knew what she was talking about. The devils
are loose on the streets. I see it every day.” Her foot slid on some loose
gravel and Shane laid a hand on her waist to steady her. “I can’t imagine
coming up here for a funeral.”

He kept a hand floating on each side of her waist just in
case. “I’ve been a pallbearer several times here, and trust me it’s no picnic.”

When they reached a safer main branch of the path Devin
looked up to the very top of the hill. “Does someone live up there?”

He followed her gaze to the barely visible gables of a
farmhouse roof. “Not anymore, it used to be the Gibson place. Their family
owned the farm up on top of the ridge. The land for the cemetery was originally
donated to the town by some of their ancestors like two hundred years ago.”

Devin raised an eyebrow. They were almost to the main gate
of the cemetery and she wasn’t sure if Shane was just making things up so he
wouldn’t have to start running again.

“There’s a two-hundred-year-old abandoned house overlooking
the cemetery? That must be a real free-for-all on Halloween.”

Shane slowed to a leisurely stroll and paused to smell some
honeysuckle growing along the fence. “Nah, it’s never really been a problem.
You can’t actually get to it from the cemetery, because eventually at the top
of the hill the rock goes straight up, and it’s the same way on the side that
faces the high school. The only way to get there is to go clear out of town on route
30 and pick up a dirt road.”

To his dismay, Devin fell into a light jogging step. “That
just makes it more interesting. It’s a secluded haunted house.”

The spa experience was not so bad. Devin particularly enjoyed
the hot stone massage, although the paraffin foot treatment and reflexology were
close seconds. Caroline said she had lots of tension and toxins built up in her
muscles and that she should come see her on a regular basis while in Fenton.

I quite agree. Maybe I’ll even tell Carter he was right
and let him spring for a few more of these appointments.

There was still a pedicure and a light spa lunch to go yet,
so her spa half day was not over.

Devin tried to let her mind float, but it kept coming back
to Shane and how easy it had been when they were running together last night. Adam
was easy to be with too, sort of. There was always uneasiness when she was
alone with Adam. Kind of like being friends with a really nerdy guy who you
just knew was going to ask you to the prom any second and you didn’t know what
your answer would be. With Shane you knew exactly what you were going to get,
because he would tell you. He didn’t mince words about who he was or what his
intentions were. The only uncertainty was what range of emotions she might feel
during any given five-minute period with him, because it could range from fury
to attraction to humor.

Devin strolled into the sheriff’s office just after two
o’clock, carrying an assortment of milkshakes from Maggie’s. It was the first
time since she had been in Fenton that she actually looked like she was on
vacation. The bright aqua blue halter top flowed when she moved and had a thick
braid wrapping around her neck that hid the scar on her collar bone that had
been visible yesterday. Khaki shorts, instead of jeans for once, showed off
long, shapely tan legs, which were finished off with flat gladiator-style
sandals that showcased her freshly painted pink toenails. Even though it had
not been part of her package, Devin had decided to have her make-up done at the
spa just to please Caroline. The poor girl was so elated, she cried.

Apparently she cries at all occasions.
It was more
make-up than Devin would normally wear during the day, but the effect was nice—she
looked sun kissed and golden. All work in the conference room ceased when she
walked in.

Danny was the first to comment running a hand over his buzz
cut head. “Wow…the spa agrees with you!”

Adam let out a low whistle, but everyone else just gawked as
she handed out the milkshakes.

“I know. That was the best thing ever!” She slid two
milkshakes across the table. “Bill, I got you mint chip. Don’t tell Molly it’s
not sugar free. Danny is black cherry, right?” They both latched on like dying
men.

“You all have to get your wives spa days. I have no idea
what it costs, but it was worth every penny.” She paused to peek under the lid
of one of the cups, grimacing as she handed the cup to Adam. “Freak show,
here’s your concoction. I cheated for you two. I asked Casey. Vanilla Sheriff,
really?” She shook her head in mock disappointment with his lack of culinary
creativity. “And last but…maybe least …Shane! Your most redeeming quality thus
far—you like the same milkshake flavor I do, chocolate peanut butter.”

Devin walked around the table and sat on the edge to stare
at the boards. “So did you all get any work done while I was gone?”

Shane sipped his milkshake but continued to stare at her.
“It’s amazing. You look like our Devin. You sound kind of like our Devin. Just
like a warmer, happier version.” He took another long sip and then squinted his
eyes and leaned forward nodding his head. “I know, it reminds me of that movie
where the guy makes a clone of his wife but he doesn’t quite get the copy right.
She’s the same but different.”

Devin rolled her eyes looking back to the boards she twirled
the straw to her own shake. “Well that’s a brilliant analysis, Detective
Whitlock. I look the same but different. Do you use that same ingenious
approach to your police work?” She started to shake her head but froze with it
tilted sideways.

All these murders were the same but different. All five had
been stabbings and beatings done in the same way, but to different types of
girls in different places.

The copy isn’t right.

Devin slid off the table, not even looking to make sure her
milkshake made it on the tabletop. “I’m such an idiot. How could I not have
seen this?” Her criminal psych professor would have been very disappointed in
her lack of vision. “
Everything stops!
”

The tiny investigative team gathered behind Devin as she
cleared off the center whiteboard and lined up a crime scene photo of each
victim at the top. She turned to the group with a marker in hand, the
excitement of the chase lighting her eyes, but the irritation of having missed
the clue still leaving her jaw tight.

“We are not dealing with a serial killer.”

“We’re not?” Bill didn’t know if he should question her
theory or her sanity.

“No, captain, we’re not. At least not in the ‘classic’ sense
of the term.” She formed air quotes around classic. “Look at Laney’s murder—it
was a violent, passionate crime, whereas the rest are calculated and precise.”
Using the marker as a pointer she moved down the line of photographs. “The ME
reports all said the stab wounds on these four were only an inch to two and
half inches deep. In comparison to Laney’s wounds, that’s restrained, almost
timid, even in the fourth, most recent victim.”

Shane was on board, nodding his head. “Usually a killer
escalates. They need more violence to get the same rush. Even a copycat would need
a bigger thrill by now. Unless there’s been a series of copycats.”

Pacing the small room Devin shook her head. “That seems
unlikely to have that many copycats match up so closely.”

Danny was rubbing his head as if it were a magic lamp.
“Unless they’re not acting out of a need to kill.”

With a grim smile Devin pointed the marker at him. “Bingo.
What if they’re acting out of self-preservation? Laney’s murder was personal. The
other four were out of necessity to muddy the waters.”

Adam rocked back on his heals with his arms folded across
his chest. “I don’t know though, four murders to cover up one? Even for a
criminal, that sounds crazy.”

Bill nodded his agreement. “Adam’s right. Not to be tacky,
but talk about overkill.”

There were a few dry chuckles that Devin chose to ignore.

“Sometimes crazy is the best kind of brilliant. It’s the
ultimate back up plan. If an investigation ever starts to circle, the killer
just has to surface some evidence that makes the appearance of a connection
between Laney and a string of murders.” Devin was staring at the state map. “And
I don’t think this is a common criminal, it’s someone with a lot more to lose. Think
about this—there’s next to no physical evidence, but the one thing everybody
was looking for was the locket.”

Danny was playing along. “So you make sure it looks like the
killer is from out of town by leaving a trail of bodies missing necklaces across
the state. Nobody will be looking for a serial killer here at home.”

Bill threw his pen down on the table. “And it worked, too.
We were planning on heading back to the office tomorrow morning, but it looks
like our work is here in Fenton.”

“All right, people, our milkshakes are melting! Where do we
start?” Shane clapped his hands together to snap everyone out of their dazed,
overwhelmed stares.

Devin grinned at him. She lived for this. Marcy used to tell
her that her work consumed her, and she agreed, because it was better to fight
the battle from inside the belly of the beast. “We need a suspect list so we
can start comparing their whereabouts to the murder locations.”

Bill was already on the phone. “I’m going to have the Feds
triple check their list to make sure we’re not missing any victims.” 

Devin uncapped the marker she’d been holding for the last
ten minutes. “All right, let’s start with the original suspects in the case.”
She began scribbling on the board. “That would be Henry Maddox, Dean Delluca
and Bobby Bennett.”

The shouting started simultaneously from Adam and Shane.

“You can’t believe it was Henry!”

“Henry and your own father? Are you kidding me?”

She held up two hands, whether to stop them or act as a
shield from the verbal onslaught was unclear. “Guys! Of course I don’t believe
it was Henry, but it’s our job to rule him out logically with evidence. As far
as my father is concerned, he lied about being at the scene for thirty-five
years and disappears in drunken binges for months at a time. I couldn’t swear
that it wasn’t him.”

Adam ran one hand thru his hair, disheveling his normally
fastidious locks, staring at Devin as if she had ice in her veins. Her shrug
was nonchalant, as if she were talking about a pair of worn-out socks she had
no attachment to.

“I didn’t grow up in Mayberry having family dinner every
night. Forgive me if I’m not sentimental about family ties.” She turned back to
the list. “Adam, why don’t you pull up Delluca’s rap sheet and talk to his
parole officer? He should be the easiest one for us to set up a timeline on.
When Bill’s done with the FBI, he and Danny can start on the other two, while
Shane, Sherriff Bittner and I work on expanding the list.”

Devin must have sounded like she knew what she was doing,
because everyone jumped on her orders and got to work. The only one who paused
was, of course Shane, who leaned in close to her ear to whisper barely louder
than a breath.

“Well, aren’t you a proficient little liar.”

She drew back with fire snapping in her eyes, a snarling
retort already on her lips, but he just grabbed her arm and pulled her ear back
to his lips.

“You wouldn’t be here investigating the murder that
destroyed your father and your grandmother and you wouldn’t have thrown away
your career to save your brother if you didn’t believe in family.”

He let her go with a triumphant cockeyed grin as Sherriff
Bittner maneuvered his stocky frame around the table. Devin’s eyes were still
burning as heat passed into her cheeks. “I hate you.”

The cockeyed grin widened. “You love me.”

The Sherriff took possession of the cushiest chair front and
center. Sinking in to the artificial leather, he folded his hands and looked up
expectantly. “Okay kids, what have you got for me?”

Shane picked up a legal pad and began drawing a bull’s eye. “Well,
if we start with immediate family and close friends, then work our way out to
acquaintances…”

Patience was not one of Devin’s virtues. “Peter and Beth
Christianson.”

The legal pad smacked the table.

“Are you just going to list all of your family members?”

“Maybe, if the shoe fits. Peter was the last person to see
Laney alive, he’d had a crush on her, and maybe he made a move and she rejected
him. If she threatened to tell Beth, he could have killed her in a fit of rage.
Or maybe Laney sees Beth leaving Henry’s car and says she’s going to tell Peter
about it. All of Beth’s built-up jealousy snaps when she see’s her chances with
the football star slipping away. Her timeline was always a little sketchy
anyway.”

The Sherriff rubbed his thumb across his moustache for
almost a full minute before saying anything. Devin and Shane exchanged glances
but remained quiet. Finally he spoke. “That’s a lot of maybes. The
Christiansons are respected members of this community and some of the kindest,
softest spoken people you’ll ever meet. Beth and Laney were like sisters. You
need to tread very lightly here, Miss Devin.”

She was already nodding her head. “Granted. I will approach
it as just filling in the timeline for right now. There’s no sense in throwing
around a bunch of accusations, but those maybes are motive.”

Adam’s call from across the table interrupted the tension in
their little group. “Devin, you were right.”

Her smile could have lit the way on a starless night. “Now,
there’s a shocker.”

Shane groaned and buried his face in his hands—it was hard
to tell through the mumbling, but it sounded like he said, “Why must you tell
her these things?”

“What am I right about this time?”

“Delluca was easy to clear. He was in prison during two of
the murders and was staying at a halfway house on a work release program for a
third.” He finished writing out his notes and ripped the top sheet off the pad,
sailing it across the table. “I confirmed with his P.O. Delluca never missed
check-in or curfew at the halfway house.” Adam stood and stretched his lanky
six--foot frame, his yellow plaid button down and chinos barely wrinkled
despite the long day. The other men looked as if they had slept in their
rumpled clothes. Stealing Devin’s marker, Adam crossed Delluca’s name off the
list. “Let’s not forget that he had a pretty ironclad alibi that infamous
night.”

Devin glanced at the generic office clock hanging above the
door. It was already three fifteen. “I need to leave now if I’m going to have
time to talk to Beth alone before her husband gets home.” She quickly began
stuffing the notes and folders she would need into her bag.

Sheriff Bittner’s voice was a lazy drawl. “Take one of the
boys with you.”

She didn’t slow down, but the smirk was as evident in her
voice as it was on her face. “You don’t trust me to control myself and not
accuse her of murder?”

He pushed back deeper into his chair thinking for a moment,
then: “No, no, I don’t.”

Devin laughed out loud at his honesty and kissed him on top
of his balding head as she tossed her bag over her shoulder. “Fine, come on,
Adam!”

Shane took on the pitiful face of the last puppy being left
alone at the pet store. “Hey! Why does he get to go?”

Devin gave him a wicked grin. “Because he finished his
assignment. You haven’t cleared anyone or added any names to the list. So get
to work.”