Tin God (26 page)

Shaw raised a scarred eyebrow. He took a long drag off the smoke and then used the cigarette to point at Nick’s wallet. “Fine.”

Nick tossed the money at Shaw and held his hand out for the key.

The smell of death is unforgettable, and Nick had covered enough murders during his career to recognize it on contact. It’s the kind of smell that infiltrates the clothes, seeps through pores and into the brain so that a man still smells it long after the body has been removed.

Add that foulness to a closed-up, overheated tin can, and the scent is stomach churning.

“She had a window air conditioner.” Cage spoke behind his hand. “Shaw must have yanked it out and sold it.”

Nick grunted. He didn’t want to open his mouth. The taste would coat his tongue for a week.

Crystal’s body had been removed days ago and the blood and any other bodily fluids scrubbed away with chemicals. Yet the smell of decay permeated the trailer’s cheap walls and Crystal’s meager furnishings. The vinyl floor had been cleaned, but the rust-colored stain remained.

“Right there.” In her bedroom, Nick pointed to the mismatched dresser against the wall. A jewelry box stood open, and nothing was in its place. Shaw had obviously been rifling. Scattered over the dresser were old snapshots, a few pieces of costume jewelry, and several business cards–most likely Crystal’s clients.

Nick smacked his palm on the left end of the table. “Sat right here. That’s the wall behind it. Same curtains in the window, same dirty glass, same plywood wall.”

“Hasn’t sat here in a while,” Cage said.

“Why?”

“No dust ring.” Cage motioned to the rest of the room. Everything that had been moved by investigators or the grubby-handed Shaw was designated by a ring of dust.

“So Shaw didn’t steal it.”

“Crystal probably sold it,” Cage said.

Nick dug his fingertips into his temples rubbing the growing knots of pressure. “Keep looking.”

“Not too many places she could hide a typewriter.” Cage looked in the closet, standing on tiptoes to search the top shelves.

“Crystal wasn’t stupid,” Nick said. “She knew how to get what she wanted–she threatened Jaymee to protect herself, yet she considered herself a friend. Double-sided. She’s kept records, and I’d be willing to bet she’d worked hard to cover up her tracks. Probably doesn’t even have a bank account.”

“She had a computer.” Cage toed the wireless router and modem sitting on the nightstand.

“Where’s the computer?”

“Probably in the manager’s office or already in a pawn shop.” Cage kicked the old dresser making it rattle precariously. “Any records she might have had were probably on it.”

“Not necessarily.” Nick moved into the main living area. “Too easy for someone to discover.”

Cage looked unconvinced but kept searching. Every cabinet opened, cushions moved. Nick hoped he’d find a loose slat in the bench’s wooden seat or a piece of vinyl floor easily removed. Nothing.

Sweating and desperate, he dropped to his knees, slid the cabinet beneath the sink open, and ran his hand around the inside. A few bottles of cleaning supplies, a clean dust brush, two stiff sponges, the plumbing hoses. He twisted his arm to the right, and a splinter jammed into his index finger. He swore and jerked back.

The thin board underneath the sink wobbled and slid to the right an inch–maybe two. A digital recorder small enough to fit into Nick’s hand bounced off the bottle of generic cleaner and landed on the bottom of the cabinet.

Nick fell back onto the floor. A bead of sweat dripped onto his hand. He ignored it and reached for the recorder. Cage knelt beside him, breathing heavily with excitement.

Hands shaking, Nick pressed play.

Jaymee’s throat hurt. Not the rawness that comes from screaming, but burning pain, as though the muscles had been crushed and were trying to stretch themselves back into position. She wet her dry lips. Moving her mouth sent a throb across her jaw and up into her skull.

A stale scent drifted past her nose. Old wood, musty clothes, mothballs. Heat licked her skin. Her mouth fell open, trying to cool her burning body, and she tasted damp air tinged with the unmistakable scent of lake water teaming with fish.

Fuzzy memories rolled through her rattled mind. Holden, bloodied against a dirt wall and Penn, tears in his eyes and telling her he was her real father. She saw Sarah, and something dark with inescapable hatred.

Darren
.

Jaymee’s eyes struggled open. Her blurred vision slowly cleared, and she saw rotted wood slats with streaks of blue sky peeking through. She tried to speak. A gasp, and then a pathetic groan. On instinct, her hands went to her throat. It was on fire. Her wrists were still bound. Again, she wrestled with her voice. This time, her groan was more of yowling mew.

“Want some water?”

She rolled her pounding head in the direction of Darren’s voice. Six feet away stood the man she’d once adored. His clothes were covered with dried mud. He’d washed his hands, but his fingernails looked painted with dirt. Red welts decorated his collarbone, courtesy of Jaymee.

He shook the bottle of water.

She nodded.

He stepped across the space. Looking wary, he grabbed her upper arm and pulled her into a sitting position. The entire room tilted and then swayed, a blur of dark colors and terror.

Darren thrust the water in her face. She grasped it with weak fingers. The tepid water soothed her aching throat, but she didn’t dare try to muster her true voice. Her whisper was meek as a mouse. “Why, Darren?”

“I already told you. Had to protect the one person who was always there for me.”

“By becoming a killer?”

He towered over her, transformed into a marauding demon. “If you’d kept your mouth shut, no one would have gotten hurt.”

Jaymee took another drink, trying to focus on the feel of the water to stay calm. “You knew the truth. All these years.”

“I didn’t believe it. But I knew what you and that damned Lana Samuels were trying to do.”

“How?”

“I ran into her in Jackson. She was leaving the restaurant I was supposed to meet Holden, Royce, and Dad at. She was mad as hell. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me everything. I played dumb, shocked. Concerned. After all, you were my sister. Inside, I felt murderous rage. You’d caused so much trouble for the family. Holden had done so much for us. And then she said she had proof of the other woman, Elaine. That she was going to nail Holden, and he’d have to admit to fathering your child.

“I knew then what I’d have to do. I arranged to meet her later that night.”

“How did you get Lana to go with you?”

His shy smile sent chills crawling over her like hairy spiders. “She believed I was on your side. I convinced her to meet me that night and show me the information. I’d go to the police with her in the morning as your spokesman. Stupid, naïve girl.”

“She trusted you.” Jaymee paid the price of the force of her words, her throat crying out in agony.

“Made it easy.” Darren toed the duffle bag at his feet. “Still have the papers.”

“At least you know the truth.”

“I know you and that other jezebel seduced a good man and then plotted to send him into ruin.”

Her laugh brought fresh torture. “Holden’s a predator. And a liar. A false idol. You chose wrong, Darren.”

“That’s what Rebecca said.”

“But why? Why’d Rebecca tell you?”

“A person usually shares life-altering information with their lover.”

Jaymee didn’t have the energy to be surprised. “You knew I’d be there to find her body.”

“I didn’t enjoy killing her. Rebecca made me happy. Once again, you destroyed something I cherished. It’s only fitting you be burdened with the memory.”

She didn’t ask about Crystal. Didn’t want to know. Right now, she had to figure out how to get the hell away. She rocked on her butt and tried to roll to her feet, but instead fell onto her side.

Darren laughed.

He’d tied her feet. She rolled to her back, tied up like a helpless calf. Darren’s harsh laughter made Jaymee’s head throb. Was Nick looking for her? Had he or Cage noticed her feeble attempt at identifying Darren with the picture?

The tears she’d been warring with oozed in her eyes. Her throat swelled and ached. She ground her teeth until her jaw muscles cramped. Jaymee entwined her hands, letting them fall to her chest. Hopelessness sank in now.

“Why didn’t you kill me four years ago instead of Lana?”

Darren picked at the dirt in his fingernails. “I didn’t think you were a real threat. Lana had the connections. She was so pissed off and ready to make an example of Holden. Once she was eliminated, everything went back to normal. Holden was safe.”

“Until Rebecca figured out Royce’s game,” Jaymee said.

“She might not have if it weren’t for you telling her your pathetic problems.”

“Rebecca didn’t know about Holden or Sarah. She only knew I needed a family attorney.”

Darren glared at her. “Rebecca wasn’t stupid. And she liked to snoop. She asked around, found out you’d been sent away when you were younger. When you asked about a family attorney, she assumed it was for a child.”

“Did you tell her?”

“No. I’d hoped she’d forget about it. But when she discovered Royce’s bank accounts, she dug deeper.”

“Why did you send the letter before you killed Rebecca? It could have all ended with her.”

Darren knelt beside her. His eyes were bloodshot and full of hate. He raked his nails over her bruised arm, sending tremors of pain and chills over her frayed nerves. “I had to kill Rebecca because of you. I decided it was time for you to pay.”

“So you dragged Nick into it?”

“I knew the two of you and Cage would get together and start chasing your tails. You’d have to expose your dirty secret finally.”

“You could have just killed me. Made it look like an accident. You’d already gotten away with two murders.”

“Killing you was too easy. You needed to be punished, and the best way to do that was to make you think you actually had a shot at exposing Holden and getting Sarah back.”

“Holden’s exposed. Elaine Andrews is going to bring him down.”

“I didn’t expect that. Your fault, too. You’ve ruined everything. The only solace is in making you suffer.”

“You don’t know where Sarah is.”

Darren gently pinched her cheeks and then grasped her chin, thumb jabbing into her skin, index finger hard against her bone. He brought his face close, his expression layered with menace. “Yes, I do. But I’ll never tell.”

###

Crystal kept records all right. Verbal records. Accounts of every client she blackmailed and how much she charged. Her throaty smoker’s voice extolled lazily from the device’s miniature speaker. Crouched side by side, Nick and Cage listened to her schemes.

“Smart businesswoman.” Nick’s throat burned from dryness.

“Conniving bitch.” Sweat dripped off Cage’s nose. “We need to call Charles and see if anything’s turned up.”

“He’ll call. And he won’t find anything.”

“We’re wasting time listening to this.” Cage stood up and headed for the door. Nick refused to move. A pause on the tape signaled the next recording session, and then Crystal spoke again.

“June 5. Had a meeting with Darren Ballard today. Haven’t seen him in a while.” Crystal laughed. “Forgot how good he was in bed.”

Cage stopped in mid-stride. Nick stared at him, the hair on the back of his arms at attention. Jaymee’s brother?

“Damn. Like father, like son,” Cage said.

“He wanted to talk,” Crystal said. “I pretended to listen. But I did make some extra money. He bought that piece of shit typewriter for $50 bucks.”

Nick nearly dropped the recorder. The puzzle pieces floating in his head snapped together.

“Not possible,” Cage said. “Paul must have used it. Darren would never hurt Jaymee.”

But the instinct that made Nick a living caught fire and burned red hot. Crystal kept talking. Entry after entry over the last two weeks, all centered around Darren Ballard.

“He’s wound tighter than a blunt.” Crystal smacked her lips. She must have been eating. “Hates women, too. Poor wife of his. Spends all his time rambling about women being liars and users and whores. Hypocrite since he’s banging Rebecca Newton.

“Something about thy tongue and its mischiefs. Loving evil more than good. Lying, a deceitful tongue. I can’t remember it all. A lot of tongue.” A harsh laugh from Crystal. “That’s the shit Darren spouted tonight. Psalm, I think. Loyalty and sacrifice. Blah, blah, blah.”

“Jesus.” Cage’s hand fell to the trailer floor and then to his knees. His arm wobbled at the elbow barely supporting his shocked form. “This can’t be.”

More entries, and then finally, the morning she was murdered. The sweat-covered hair on Nick’s arms stood up when Crystal began speaking. She’d had no idea that day was her last.

“Darren called at 3:00 am saying he’s worried about Jaymee. She’s gone off to Jacksonville with Lana Samuel’s husband. I don’t know why Darren gives a shit. Jaymee could use some hot sex.

“He’s here. No headlights. Suppose he’s trying not to wake anyone up, but he’s not driving his car. It’s a rental. I see the Enterprise sticker.” A loud, scuffling sound streamed through the speaker, and then a series of scrapes and bumps.

“I hope you’re still picking me up.” Crystal sounded much farther away now. “I stuck you tight under the sink, and since this place is held together by super glue, there’s got to be some kind of reception.

“I don’t trust Darren Ballard. He’s going crazy. He tries to pull anything on me, I’m using my little electronic friend as leverage. Shit. He’s at the door.”

Crystal never got the chance. Darren’s voice, even farther away than Crystal’s.

“Darren.” Crystal spoke in a throaty purr. “Come give me a kiss.”

“What did Royce Newton tell you?” Darren’s voice grew louder with each word. Crystal tried to sweet talk her way out of the jam, claiming she hadn’t said a word to anyone, but it was too late. Charles had questioned her, and Darren knew it.

Crystal’s tone sharpened. “You’re a damned hypocrite, Darren. You judge other people, but the man you idolize is a damned pedophile. You don’t really believe Cage Foster was the father of Jaymee’s baby, do you? Holden Wilcher’s a creep.”

“Jaymee’s a liar.” Anger in Darren’s voice–a lion ready to strike.

“I never knew for sure. But when Royce got drunk the night before he killed his wife, he told me everything. He’s blackmailing Holden for his silence–has been for years. Guess Rebecca found proof.”

“You didn’t tell that to the police.”

“I didn’t plan on telling them any damned thing. Jaymee ratted me out. Good thing I kept the most important information to myself.”

“And what do you plan on doing with that information?” Darren spoke with careful control now, slowly and modulated.

“Well, Holden and Royce both got money,” Crystal said. “I’m going to find out who’s willing to pay top dollar. And if neither of them is, I might have to talk to Detective Charles myself.”

The lion struck. A muted smack and then the thump of something hard against the sink. From the sound of Crystal’s choked pleas ricocheting off the metal and into the hidden recorder’s memory, Darren bent her over the sink and strangled her. Crystal gagged and spit, the high-tech piece of equipment recording the last, desperate moments of her short life.

“Darren, please.” Crystal’s words were barely discernible over the sound of her choking.

“I have to save Holden. Killing Lana was hard. Rebecca even worse. But you? Getting rid of you is easy. Enjoyable, even.”

Something smacked the sink, maybe Crystal’s hand. Nick pictured her mouth hanging open, saliva spraying onto the sink while her fingernails scraped against the fake stainless steel.

Scraping, banging, gagging.

“‘Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking lies’. Psalm 34:13, verse thirteen.”

Crystal made a low keening sound. Then, nothing but a distant, heavy breathing. The sound of Darren dragging Crystal’s body to her bedroom and then washing his hands. Finally, the door closed, and dead air crackled out of the speaker.

Nick swallowed hard and tasted vomit. “I can’t believe it. I thought Darren took care of Jaymee?”

“He did. But Holden was like a father to both him and Jaymee. He got Darren a scholarship to college. Oh, God.” Cage’s glistening face turned green.

“What?” Sweat stung Nick’s eye. He rubbed it with the palm of his hand. The stifling heat made him dizzy.

“Holden convinced Jaymee to keep quiet about the pregnancy and adoption because of Darren.” Cage’s words were mechanical. “He told her if she outed him as the baby’s father, Darren would lose his scholarship. Holden’s name would be ruined, and Darren would be out on his ass. And her family would be humiliated.”

“That’s against university policy. No decent school would have done that.”

“That’s what Lana told her, months after the fact. But Jaymee was alone and scared. She loves Darren and didn’t want to ruin his life the way hers was.”

“And Holden knew it.” Everything made sense. The devil had walked beside Jaymee, feigning comfort. “Darren killed Lana.”

“Can’t be.” Cage clung to futile hope.

“His father and his idol were meeting Royce. Darren was there. Somehow, he found out. Killed Lana to protect Holden. Then, all these years later, Rebecca learns enough to bring Holden down. Somehow Darren finds out and kills her.”

“He wasn’t ready to quit, though.” Nick’s words came fast. “He wanted to pull Jaymee in, and he didn’t have the guts to confront her. So he sends the letter to me in hopes I’d get you and Jaymee involved.”

“He knew Jaymee would find Rebecca’s body, too. He knew her cleaning schedule at Evaline.”

“And he took her sunglasses.”