Faces of Evil [4] Rage (11 page)

He bobbed his head up and down again and then reached out and took his sister’s hand. Telling lies was bad, but he didn’t want to get taken away. If he’d listened to his sister he wouldn’t have to tell any lies.

He tugged at her when she started toward the door. When she looked back at him, he dared to ask, “Do angels take live people too?”

His sister looked like she didn’t understand or was too tired to answer silly questions. “What?”

Devon shrugged. “They take the dead people. Like they did mommy. What about the live people?”

She squatted down to put her face close to his. “Devon, angels don’t hurt people. They protect them. They take dead people to heaven like they did mom but they don’t hurt anyone, especially not live people. Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.”

She hugged him real hard. “We’ll be fine, Dev.” She looked at his eyes then. “I promise.”

Devon smiled. He wasn’t gonna worry about that angel anymore. Leslie would make everything okay. She always did.

Besides, she just told him that angels didn’t hurt people.

5:30 p.m.

J
ess ignored the vibrating in her jacket pocket. It was Burnett calling. She didn’t have to look. She was supposed to have briefed him by now. And the BPD staff meeting was only half an hour away.

Unfortunately, geographically speaking, she was twenty minutes away—if they left now, drove like a bat out of hell, and somehow managed to avoid the worst of rush hour traffic, they might make it. But she couldn’t leave now.

“Chief Burnett’s going to have our heads,” Lori muttered as she glanced at her cell phone. She turned to Jess. “That’s Harper calling.”

“Step outside and let him know we may be on to something here and that we’ll be on our way soon.”

“Will do.”

The door closed behind Lori and Jess’s attention shifted to the top of the staircase. The home was a split-level sadly in need of an update on the inside and major TLC on the outside. The front door opened to a small entry hall where two short staircases waited. One went up seven or eight steps to what she presumed were the bedrooms, the other went down the same number of steps to the main living area.

Jess had a feeling about Leslie Chambers. The girl wasn’t more than twenty or twenty-one and she was hiding something. Drug use? Maybe. She seemed awfully busy to be involved in anything she shouldn’t be but what she said and what she actually did might be two very different stories. Between her job and school she sounded like she had a full schedule. Who watched after her eight-year-old autistic brother while she slept? No one was taking care of the home, that was for sure.

Was the room with the windows overlooking the Graysons’ pool and this end of their home the brother’s? Jess’s instincts were on full alert. There was something here. Maybe they hadn’t seen anything last night, but that didn’t mean the two didn’t know something relevant about the Grayson murder. Leslie appeared at the top of the stairs, her younger brother at her side. He was small for eight. Had the same red hair as his sister. As they descended the stairs, coming closer, Jess noted the freckles and the blue eyes. The two could be twins if not for the age difference.

When Leslie reached the final step, her brother sat down right there, not wanting to come any closer and consciously avoiding eye contact with Jess. He had his arms wrapped around his waist, one resting on top of the other.

“He’s really shy.”

“I understand.” Jess joined him on the bottom step. She offered her hand. “Devon, I’m Deputy Chief Harris of the Birmingham Police Department.”

He didn’t look at her and he certainly didn’t take her hand.

Angry scratches marred the arm he tried to cover. “What happened to your arm?”

He didn’t answer.

“He’s always climbing trees and getting stuck in places,” Leslie assured her. “That’s a boy for you. What they don’t try to climb they try to take apart.” She sounded really nervous now.

“Did you get stuck, Devon?” Jess asked him. “I’ve fallen out of a few trees myself. Did you climb too high and get stuck there?”

Not a blink.

“I’m sorry,” Leslie repeated. “He’s that way sometimes.”

“That’s okay. Maybe he’ll want to talk another time.” Jess got up and dug for one of her business cards. “This has my cell number. Please”—she squeezed the girl’s hand when she took the card—“call if either of you remember anything at all that happened in your neighborhood recently, particularly involving the Graysons. It could be as simple as a stranger you saw lurking about. We really need to find the person who did this. To do that we can use all the help we can get.” Jess glanced over at Devon. “Until we find that person you and your brother won’t really be safe in your own home. Especially with the windows unlocked.”

Obviously a little shaken by Jess’s warnings, Leslie put the card on the hall table by her keys. “We’ll call if we think of anything.” She squared her shoulders and cleared the emotion from her face. “But like I said we weren’t home last night so…” She shrugged. “I wish we could help. Mrs. Grayson was a nice lady.”

“Your complete honesty is all we can ask for.” Jess gave her and her brother a smile. “Thank you for your time.”

As she left, Jess glanced back at the little boy once more. This time he was watching her but he quickly looked away.

He’d been listening and she would wager he understood every word.

These two were hiding something. Could be a mountain of debt, could be drugs or another crime. She doubted the latter. But there was definitely an element of fear or trepidation in those matching blue eyes.

Lori looked up from her position on the sidewalk, well away from the front door. “We’re almost there,” she lied, most likely to Harper. “Thanks.” She ended the call and made an uh-oh face.

Jess descended the front steps and joined her. “Let me guess, they’re waiting for us.”

“Burnett started without us but he assured Mayor Pratt and the others that you were five minutes away.”

“Great.” Jess headed for the corner of the block. “I want you to find out everything you can about Leslie and Devon Chambers. Where are the parents? How many times in the past year have the utilities been disconnected?” Lori was busily typing notes into her phone as Jess listed off her questions. “Is Devon high-functioning autistic? Where does he go to school? Does he have a psychologist or other specialist keeping tabs on him?” Jess had a feeling about those two. “There’s an issue but maybe not one of a criminal nature. Maybe just a sad one. They may need help that they either don’t know how to ask for or are afraid to ask for.”

She paused to meet her friend and colleague’s gaze. “My instincts are screaming at me that they might almost need us more than we need them.”

Lori tapped the screen of her smart phone. “I’ll get on this list right away.”

One of these days Jess was going to have to learn to do that. She was still dragging around pad and pencil. Truth be told, she preferred it. Since she was old enough to go to school, she’d always loved the smell of freshly sharpened pencils, even if she’d disliked using one in the classroom.

Her cell clanged. She should’ve left it on vibrate. At the end of the Graysons’ driveway she checked the screen.
Lily
. Her sister.

The call went to voice mail to join the other four Lily had left since midnight last night.

“The chief?” Lori asked as they resumed their trek toward her car.

“My sister.” Her phone started clanging again. “Damn it, Lily, I don’t have time to chat.” Jess heaved a frustrated breath and dragged out her phone. “Hey, Lily. What’s up?”

“That odd old man called,” Lily announced.

A wrinkle-inducing scowl tugged at Jess’s face. She rubbed at it with her free hand. “What odd man, Lily?”

“The one from church who called my house in the middle of the night last night and told me he’d seen you on the news and offered a garage apartment for you to rent.”

Jess held her tongue to the count of five. “Lily, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You didn’t listen to my voice mails?”

Busted. “No. I’ve been investigating a murder all day. I haven’t listened to any voice mails.” That was the God’s truth. She had six others since eight this morning.

“Anyway,” Lily griped, “Mr. Louis belongs to my church. He’s a widower I think and about a hundred years old. He doesn’t talk to anyone, ever. I almost fainted when he called my house last night.”

“Lil, get to the point, please.” Burnett was going to kill her for sure.

“He lives in Forest Park in one of those beautiful old Craftsman-style homes but he’s odd, Jess. I can’t vouch for him but my minister says he’s fine.”

Oh my God. “You talked to your minister about my living arrangements?”

“You’re my sister. Of course I talked to my minister. I talk to him about everything. You need a place to stay and I added you to the prayer chain. Someone contacted Mr. Louis and he called me. He has a place to offer. But I don’t really
know
him. I mean, really know him.”

“Just give me his address and number, Lil. I spent nearly two decades in the bureau, I’m deputy chief, for goodness sakes. I think I can vet my own landlords.” Jess grabbed back control just in time. Her voice had already climbed two octaves.

“You are so hardheaded,” Lily complained. “Nine-nine-one-one Conroy Road.”

Jess repeated the address and then the phone number so Lori could add it to her nifty electronic list.

“I don’t know why you’re even considering this, Jess. You should be staying with me. Your only sister in the whole world.”

“Thank you, Lil. Love you!” Jess ended the call. She had to do something soon. Between her sister and Burnett, this whole home search business was turning into a nightmare.

“Lori, I need you to do me a huge favor.”

“As long as I have my job afterward, I’m game.”

Jess hoped she still felt that way after she heard the favor. “Drop me off downtown and then go to the address I gave you. If this Mr. Louis is not a total freak and if the apartment is okay, rent it for me. See if I can move in tonight.”

“I’ll be glad to, but you know you’re welcome at my place for as long as you need.”

“I appreciate that but as long as I’m staying with you, my sister is going to ask why I’m not staying with her. Trust me, that would be bad for all of us. You wouldn’t like me very much if I lived with my sister. God love her.”

“I get the picture,” Lori acknowledged. “Forest Park’s a swanky, old money neighborhood. Should be a nice place.”

“If it is”—Jess prayed it was—“I’ll move in immediately.” She unearthed her wallet from the bottomless pit that was her bag and signed a blank check. “Give him this for the rent and deposit. Since he knows my sister surely the rate’s reasonable and he’ll take a check.”

“But you don’t have any furniture. No dishes or linens,” Lori pointed out. “No bed.”

“True.” Jess’s hopes deflated. “You know, I’m never home. All I need is a bed. Maybe the place comes with a bed.”

Lori checked the time. “If not, some of the super stores will still be open. I could grab Harper and we could get you one. He’s a guy. Surely he has a friend with a truck.” She looked hopeful. “It could be kind of a housewarming gift.”

Jess raised her eyebrows. “There are two things you should never offer to give me as a gift, Detective. Shoes and a mattress. When it comes to furniture, a good bed is all that matters to me. King-size. Air-cooled memory foam. Money is no object as long as my credit limit holds out.” She picked through her credit cards. “This one should handle it.” She passed it to Lori. “Just pretend you’re me. And don’t be embarrassed if they tell you it’s declined. Beg for mercy.”

Lori grinned. “Do I get to boss Harper around while I’m pretending to be you?”

“Absolutely.” Jess checked the time again and groaned. “We are so far beyond late.” She managed a pitiful laugh; there was nothing else to do. “Does this Mustang of yours have wings?”

“Nope.” Lori jingled the keys in her hand. “But that doesn’t mean she won’t fly.”

Birmingham Police Department, 6:28 p.m.