Deep Within The Shadows (The Superstition Series Book 1) (16 page)

“I was losing consciousness, I was being choked to death. Forgive me for not remembering everything at once.”

Her smartass defensiveness pissed him off.

She returned to Father Clarence. “What would you suggest we do?”

“Are you and your sister close?”

“We have been. It’s a kind of open relationship. We wander away from each other and always end up back together. We’re sisters.”

“I’d suggest you band together to fight it.”

“How?”

“By loving each other and standing firm together.”

“We’re already there, padre. But you didn’t feel the strength of this thing. It lifted me off my feet and held me in midair. Just throwing love at it will be like using a pea shooter to stop a locomotive.”

Chase jerked in his seat.

“Giving up your fear will be even harder. Whoever has created this is depending on your fear to feed it.”

Juliet’s jaw went taut. Chase saw the same thing cross her face when he’d been interviewing her. She was shutting down, closing herself off.

Her voice, as hoarse as it was, held brittleness. “Is that all you have? No other weapons in your arsenal?”

Father Clarence laid a calming hand on her arm. “What do you think will work?”

“A water cannon filled with holy water. Shotgun shells filled with rock salt. Something more than holding hands with my sister and singing Kumbaya.”

“You have to have faith in yourself and in God, Juliet.”

She rose and detached herself. “It isn’t God I have a problem with, Father. I don’t expect anything from Him. I’ll wait out in the sanctuary for you, Detective.”

Chase studied Father Clarence as silence stretched like thick tar between them.

“She doesn’t have much faith in humanity or otherwise, I think,” Father Clarence said. “There is no clear-cut weapon to use to protect someone who is being attacked spiritually.”

For the first time, Chase’s own faith in the man wavered. “I have two men dead, Father. One was in police custody in a locked cell. His insides looked like they’d been sliced to ribbons. The other one’s heart was pulverized in his chest without any external trauma. There’s a real physical threat here. And you think something spiritual is what’s happening?”

The priest’s brow furrowed.

Chase got to his feet. “You look for the perpetrator in your domain, and I’ll look for him in mine.” He held out his hand for the evidence bags. Father Clarence twisted around and retrieved them with his translations and handed them to him.

Chase shook the priest’s hand and left the office. When he returned to the sanctuary, he saw Juliet sitting at the back, slumped in one of the pews, her head down.

She opened her eyes as he approached her. “We’ll be staying at Caleb’s house. If you can drop me there I’d appreciate it.”

“Did something happen at your sister’s place?”

“Yeah. Caleb thought some…one was hanging around.”

That pause between words set off alarms. What did he, Caleb Faulkner, think he’d seen, if not a person?

Jesus! What was he thinking? All this talk of spiritual attacks had given him the heebie-jeebies.

He’d looked into Faulkner’s background, his military service. Though he and the twins had had some minor run-ins with the law as teenagers, none of them had been arrested, and now they were adults, they all seemed solid citizens.

What had they stumbled into?

Avoiding the kneeling bench, Chase walked over between the pews and sat down next to her. “What did you expect Father Clarence to do, Juliet?”

“Nothing.” With her head down and the bruises on her neck a vivid red, she looked beaten. “I learned a long time ago not to depend on anyone but myself.”

“And what about your sister?”

“I don’t know why they’re going after her, unless it’s to hurt me. Miranda doesn’t deserve this.”

Chase quirked a brow. “And you do?”

“You said it yourself, Detective. I was there when a man died. He’s dead because of me.”

Regret stung him. He should have taken things easier on her that first night. “It wasn’t your fault. He’s dead because someone hired two drug addicts to kill you and get you out of the way. Who would have wanted to do that, Juliet?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. None of my exes would have cared enough to have me killed. And Tanner never talked about any of his. We shared meals, did things together on our days off, and just talked.” She swallowed and half raised a hand to her throat, then allowed it to flop back into her lap.

Had they been lovers? Of course they had. He jerked away from thoughts of her being like that with anyone.

She looked up. “He said his brother had a bad breakup last year. His girl put the move on Tanner.”

“What was her name?”

“He never said. You’ll have to ask Samuel.” She stood. “It’s getting late. We’d better go.”

Chase rose to block her way. She smelled like green apples and some kind of citrus, and up close her skin looked so creamy smooth he fought the urge to touch her. “Why don’t you tell me who you really think attacked you?”

She studied his face for a moment. “It wouldn’t do any good. You wouldn’t believe me.” She hitched her purse over her shoulder and turned her head gingerly.

Father Clarence had been right. She didn’t have much faith in anyone. “Try me.”

She shook her head and flinched. “Sorry. I don’t think so.”

To hell with that. “If you withholding information that’s germane to this investigation, Juliet, I’ll throw your ass in jail.”

Her brown gaze flashed. “That didn’t keep Abbott safe, did it?”

Chase ground his teeth in frustration. She was right. How had the man been killed inside the cell when no one had entered it? No one but a black shadow.

“Look around the jail. There will be a spell close to where he was staying.”

Why was she harping on that? “Even if there is, what difference does it make? A magic spell isn’t what killed him.”

“What that spell invoked did.”

“Your huge, angry, gray creature that screams?” Did she really expect him to believe that? There were some people dressed in masks and gray jumpsuits.

He saw the moment she closed down on him. It was like flipping a switch. She looked tired, and the set look about her mouth suggested pain. “It’s getting late, Detective. I’d like to get to Caleb’s house before dark.”

“You’re not going to work tonight?”

“No. I called in sick.”

He nodded She still sounded hoarse, and she needed time for the trauma to her throat to heal. Without the scarf to hide it, the burn-bruise looked painful as hell. She flinched as she tilted her head back to look up at him. “My pain medication has worn off. I need some water to take some more.”

Chase took a step back and motioned her out of the pew. He reached for his sunglasses. “Is there anything you can put on the bruise to help it heal?”

“No. It just has to go away on its own.”

“We’ll swing through a drive-through and get you a drink on the way to the house.” He rested a hand against the small of her back as they walked the short distance to the front entrance.

She came to a sudden stop at the open door, forcing him to halt.

“What is it, Juliet?”

She scanned the parking lot. A tremor shook her. “Nothing.” She took a tentative step out of the building.

More affected by her fear than he wanted to admit, Chase focused on getting to the car. He placed a protective hand against her waist, keeping her close.

Her body was spring taut. Her gaze zigzagged from one side of the lot to the other, reminding him of Abbott’s panicked behavior while they’d struggled to extract him from his seedy motel room.

What had they seen that had frightened them so badly?

A piece of paper was wedged beneath one of the windshield wipers. A lazy breeze lifted it and it fluttered. Chase tightened his hold on Juliet. He scanned the parking lot. He reached for the paper and released her so he could unfold it.

The writer had used some of the same Latin phrases and the same strange reddish-brown ink. His name stood out at the top. When he reached the bottom a separate message had been scrawled.

Back away and you won’t get hurt.

J
uliet caught Chase’s
wrist.

He jerked his sunglasses off, and his pale blue eyes narrowed in anger and bored directly into hers. Her stomach went into freefall, and she found it difficult to draw a full breath. She shook free of the sudden buzz of attraction. Sitting beside her in the pew, she’d felt the heat of his body, smelled his clean, masculine sent. His body was muscular and fit, and the reddish-brown stubble dusting his jaw drew attention to the shape of his lips.

And now all that had been wiped away because of that scrap of paper he held clenched in his hand. “As long as that paper is in proximity to you, it will draw them to you.”

“Them?”

She ignored the one word question. “It’s like a freaking metaphysical GPS system for…whatever they are.”

“It’s evidence of a crime, Juliet. It’s just a piece of paper with words written on it.”

Her fingers tightened on his wrist. “You have to listen to me.” With his healthy ego and the gun strapped to his hip, he’d walk right into something deadly if she couldn’t convince him. “You’re not dealing with human beings here. A human couldn’t have burned and bruised my neck at the same time. Or bruised Miranda’s arm in the way it was. A human couldn’t have walked through walls and killed Abbott in his cell.”

He searched her face. “You know how crazy that sounds?”

She’d known he wouldn’t believe her. So why did it still hurt? She released him and took a step back. “I know it sounds crazy. But you didn’t experience what I did. You weren’t dangled like a toy.”

“If they aren’t human, what are they?”

He sounded more curious than anything.

She shook her head, then flinched at the movement. The pounding at the base of her skull amped up. “I don’t know what they are, and I don’t care. All I know is as long as you have those papers in your possession you have a target painted on your back. And as long as I’m with you, I do, too.” She didn’t want to see anyone else in danger because of her.

Chase’s jaw suddenly went taut and his eyes narrowed again. Like ice-blue beams they, probed her features. “Stop trying to fuck with me and get in the car.” He jerked the car door open.

Juliet debated about whether or not to get in. She was exposed and vulnerable standing in the parking lot. Walking down the street would leave her completely unprotected.

She slid in and reached for her seat belt. She followed his movements as he moved to the back of the car and got something out of the trunk. He slammed it closed, and when he slid in behind the steering wheel, the note was encased in plastic. He stuffed it into his jacket pocket and shoved the key into the ignition.

“We’ll go by the station, and I’ll log the notes into evidence.”

“You can’t. You have to destroy them.”

He remained silent for a moment. His features hardened, his look stony. “When forensics works on these, are they going to lead back to you, Juliet?”

Her breath stalled. “What do you mean?”

“Did you put the note on my windshield?”

Shock held her motionless for a beat. He thought because she knew a little Latin and had been out of his sight for five minutes, she’d done it. “No, I didn’t put it on your car.”

“The note is a viable threat against a police officer, Juliet. You could get up to a year in prison.”

“Screw you, Robinson. I didn’t put that note on your car.” She reached for her seat belt.

He grasped her arm.

“Take your hand off of me.” Her voice had a raw quality that had nothing to do with her injury. She jerked against his grasp.

“That could be considered resisting arrest.”

“Say the words. If you’re arresting me, say the words. Otherwise you have no right to touch me.”

His jaw worked with impatience. “Give me your purse,” he demanded.

“Why?”

“I want to look in it.”

Damn him. “You don’t have a warrant.”

“If you’re innocent, that shouldn’t matter. Let me look inside your purse.”

She picked up the bag at her feet by the strap and swung it at him. Had he not caught it, it would have hit him in the face.

“Assaulting a police officer.”

“Jesus Christ!” She gritted teeth in frustration and rage. She thought her head might explode. “You are such an asshole.”

“I’ve been called worse. What the hell do you have in this thing? It has to weigh ten pounds. It could be considered a lethal weapon.”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes for fear it would make her head hurt even worse. “My tip money’s in the bottom.” Pain and nausea rolled over her, and she propped her elbow on the armrest and rested her forehead in her hand. It hadn’t been such a good idea to get so worked up while her head pounded like pickaxes were chipping away at her skull.

He went through every item in her bag, one at a time. When he opened her small planner, she mumbled, “That’s private.” He didn’t turn the page, but studied the one that was open, then closed it. He returned everything to her bag and handed it back to her.