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Authors: C.J. Warrant

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BOOK: Forgetting Jane
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Now with the enlightening pieces of information and the possibility of two killers, Eli really couldn’t trust a single person around him. It could be anyone. Even a cop. A chill raced down his spine.

Cops knew how to manipulate the system in their favor. They could destroy any evidence that incriminated them. Very simple.

Was he wrong with his assumption? Eli didn’t want to take any chances.

He looked down at Henley’s writing on the top corner of the photos. It read “no trails.” Did this mean, there was no evidence found at the scenes? Or he left no trail behind him.

If the old chief had any idea who was behind those murders, he might have hidden any evidence he’d had at home. There were no other leads in the office. Eli had to go to Henley’s house. But the idea of breaking and entering didn’t hold well. He’d lose his badge. Eli knew getting the warrant was near improbable. No judge would approve it, not without any real probably cause or evidence—he would be asking for pigs to fly.

The house had been vacant since Henley’s death. With no family to claim it, the property went into probate. Any secrets Henley had laid dormant inside. Eli had to get in there.

After popping a few Motrin, he called Magda to reassure himself that Jane was safe.

“Hello,” Jane answered in a cool tone. She was mad.

He had to tread lightly. “Hey. How is everything over there?”

“Fine,” she hesitated. “Magda told me the State is taking over the case.”

“I think it’s the best protection for you.”

“Ha. So when were you going to tell me about the murdered woman?”

“I wanted to, but—”

“No. I don’t care anymore, Eli. Talk to Magda.”

“Jane.”

“It’s me,” Magda responded.

“Please get her back on the phone.”

“She’s upstairs.”

He blew out an exasperated breath. “Ok, listen. I want you to make sure you lock all the doors and windows. I don’t care who’s at the front door, don’t answer it. Even if they call out your name, you and Jane stay hidden.”

“Why? Elias, what’s going on?”

“Just precautions.” The frustration edged his voice. “I’ll call you when I am on my way.” Eli saw Tom and Beth coming toward the office. He hung up without hearing her response.

“Who was that?” Tom asked while he took a seat across from him.

“Officer James from Will County,” he lied. “Anyway, did you find anything?” He directed the question to Beth.

“Nothing. I talked to some of her relatives but they haven’t seen Caroline in almost a month,” Beth explained while flipping through her notes.

“So you locked up Caroline Weaver and now she ran away because you broke her heart?” Tom poked.

“She was making threats toward Jane. I had to teach her a lesson.”

“Then where is she?” Tom countered.

“I don’t know. She left her car and her cat. She never showed up for work. This doesn’t make sense.” Eli said.

“I saw her last night coming out of the station. I offered to drive her home, but she didn’t want my help. After I coaxed her with my charms, she accepted the ride,” Tom stated as he leaned back against the chair.

Eli’s brows drew tight when he heard his deputy admitted to seeing Caroline. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“I just found out from Beth that she was missing since last night,” Tom defended.

“Where did you drop her off? Did she say anything about leaving?”

“Only that you are the scum of the earth and she hates you now for all eternity. I don’t think she wants you anymore.” Tom smiled.

“So where did you dropped her off at?” Eli repeated, eyeing his deputy.

“I dropped her off at home around—I don’t remember what time, but I first saw her when she was standing by the light post near the station,” he said.

“What did the Will County Police want with you?”

Eli inwardly cringed. “More unsolved murders.”

Tom wouldn’t let up. “Is Will County a part of this investigation now?”

“I called around to see if there was anyone fitting the latest victim’s descriptions.” Eli frowned. “I got nothing. But, I think they are all related. And with the given information, we might figure out who the killer is.”

“Who?” Both officers asked in unison.

Eli explained about the grey truck in the ditch. “I’m not a hundred percent sure if the victim is her, but if it is, then we find the truck, it might lead us to the identity of the owner and possibly of the killer.”

“I can get on that right away, Chief,” Beth said as she jotted things down. “Brandon Jobe might have yanked it out of there, if he saw it. I’ll give him a call,” she offered.

“Track it down,” Eli urged. “Let me know right away.”

Beth gave a nod and left.

Tom snorted. “Sorry, but it sounds like you’re reaching.”

Eli turned his attention to his deputy. “It doesn’t matter. We have to follow all leads. And there’s more. The coroner showed me the body. There are words carved into her skin.”

“What did they say?” Tom asked as he straightened up in the chair.

“Threats against Jane.” Eli didn’t want to elaborate. “We need to find that truck. I’m sure there are prints on it to determine who our victim is. And we can figure out where the killer had picked her up.”

Tom leaned over and saw the two piles of pictures on the desk. “What are these?” He picked up one and studied it. “Where did you find these?”

“They’re crime scene photos. I found them hidden in between the pile of magazines stacked up on the filing cabinet. Henley hid them.”

“What case is this?” Tom asked as he stood up to get a better look. “Is this what you’re referring to as a connection to the Jane Doe case?”

“It’s funny that you say that.” Eli shook his head. “It doesn’t matter any more. State will be taking this case over as soon as they get here. Anyway, keep an eye out for Caroline.” Eli took the photo from Tom’s hand and placed it in the folder. He closed it and casually slipped it in the top drawer of his desk. “I’m heading out.”

“Me too.” He gave a nod. “Eli, how is Jane doing? Is something going on between—” Tom asked as he followed Eli out of the office.

“God, no. Though, she is good.” Eli kept his answer simple. Saying anything else might spur on a conversation he didn’t want to touch.

Eli walked past the dispatcher, who had her nose deep in one of those gossip magazines. “Cindy, notify me once the State arrives.”

“Yes, Chief. Oh wait, Raymond Kantor called about twenty minutes ago. He wants to talk to you. I told him you were in a meeting and will call him back as soon as you can.”

“Thanks. I’ll stop over there.”

Eli jumped into his truck and headed out toward Raymond’s. There was a gnawing twist in his gut. Henley’s house was only fifteen minutes further down the road. His stomach protested and tightened the closer he got to Raymond’s house.

                           

 

             

             

             

             

             

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Three

             

 

E
li pulled off onto the dirt driveway that led to the single level house. He saw Raymond and Traitor playing fetch in the patchy front yard.

He parked off to the side and got out when Traitor raced over and nearly tackled him. “Hey boy, nice to see you too.” He rubbed the black Lab’s head and ears.

“Glad you came,” Raymond said as he walked over to Eli.

“It’s been crazy. So what’s up?”

“Harold. I wanted to talk to you about him. I think he’s really losing it.”

“Your brother is harmless. Besides, the couple isn’t pressing charges. And as for Jane, he needs to stay clear of this investigation. He will not be a part of it.”

“I know that, and so does he—I think. But that’s not the reason I called you over here. Ever since the morning we found that girl, he has changed. Did you know that he bought these night vision glasses to track down ghosts? Ghosts! He spent nearly his whole savings to buy those damn things,” Raymond said, tossing the ball out for Traitor. “I don’t know what to do with him. And his

sleepwalking is getting worse.”

“He’s your brother. He’s always done stupid shit like that.”

“Didn’t you hear me? Night vision goggles to see
ghosts
. That’s fucking crazy.”

“Even for your brother, it’s a bit off the wall, but not crazy.” Eli said looking around. “Where is he?”

“In the trailer.”

“Maybe he’s not sleeping enough.”

“He doesn’t sleep at all. He said a girl ghost is haunting him. He’s sleepwalking again for Christ sakes. He hasn’t done that since we were kids. I’m worried for him and so is Sara. And you know it’s bad when she worries for him. She hates his guts.”

“I know that,” Eli said in frustration. He wanted out of there fast. He raked at his scalp. “All right. I’ll go talk to him.” Eli headed toward Harold’s mobile home.

Harold’s place was an old dented silver camper trailer. He’d bought it from a guy two years ago for three hundred bucks. Once he took off the wheels and wedged it up on cement blocks, the place was home.

Eli knocked twice on the holey screen door.

Harold opened the inner metal door. The smell of beer and heavy sweat seeped out from the fourteen by nine foot space.

The man looked like crap. Strapped to his forehead were huge black binoculars. His hair was greasy and slicked straight back. Dark bags stained under his eyes, the whites bloodshot like a road map. His skin was much paler than usual.

“Harold, come out here. I want to talk to you.”

“Did my brother call you over? Did he say I’m crazy and I’m seeing ghosts?” Harold’s eyes twitched before looking away. He stepped out of the trailer and headed to a small cooler full of beer. He grabbed one and headed back inside.

“When was the last time you slept?” Eli asked, standing just outside of the entrance.

“It’s none of your damn business, Chief,” Harold spat out and closed the door.

“Harold!” Eli shouldered the door to keep it from slamming on his face. “Get your ass out here before I drag you out. If you use that bottle, I swear on my mother, it will go right up your ass.”

Harold flung back the door and growled. “Fine.”

Eli took a seat at Harold’s dingy white plastic table and chairs set. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” Harold yelled. He sounded more tired than gruff. “Why can’t everyone just leave me alone?”

Eli’s reaction was to headlock him and slap some sense into the dope, but didn’t. “So what if your brother did call me. He’s worried, and so am I,” he said in earnest.

Harold stepped down from his cement block step and took the seat closest to the door. “What do you want?” He twisted the cap off the warm beer and chugged half of it down.

“You’re sleepwalking a lot. Raymond said it has gotten worse to the point that Sarah is worried.”

“I know. She hates my guts too.” Harold used his white t-shirt to wipe his nose. “Eli—this is fucking crazy but…I don’t remember.” He finished the beer and tossed it in the small white garbage can next to the door.

“Why did you buy night vision goggles?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” He looked at Eli with welled up eyes. He took out a cigarette and lit it. “I see her with or without those damned things.”

Damn
. Eli took the wafting smoke into his lungs before the gravity of what his friend said hit him. “Who’s she?” He shifted his seat away from the trailing smoke.
Concentrate
.

“The girl Jane Doe sees,” Harold whispered.

“What?”

Harold ripped the goggles off his head and dropped them on the table. “I tried to tell you that night at the hospital.” He was pulling at his thinning blond hair. “But it came out all wrong. I’m not fucking crazy, Eli. I really do see her.” He took in big drags of the cigarette, almost finishing it to the quick, then flinging it into the scorched out firepit.

“Explain.” Eli leaned back and listened. Even if his friend sounded nuts, he would keep an open mind. With everything Jane had been through…anything was possible.

With a shaky hand, Harold took out another cigarette and lit it. “That first night, after finding Jane, I drank until I got shit-faced. I wanted to get her beat-up face out of my head. I thought I was drunk to the point that I was seeing things.” He took a drag, shook his head and blew out a cloudy breath. “She was laughing, then smiling, and then she was…covered in blood. And some—something dark green.” Harold gagged. He fell forward and dry heaved.

“Take deep breaths,” Eli offered as he watched his friend.

“I’m good,” Harold said, wiping his mouth on the same sleeve as his nose. “Almost every night in these past two weeks, I see the girl calling me for help. She tells me to help Christina. Who’s Christina?” he cried out. Harold nearly dragged the cigarette down the third of the way before exhaling it. He collapsed back into the chair.

“Who is Christina?”

“Beats the hell out of me. In the beginning, she told me to help Jane. Now it’s Christina. That girl can’t make up her mind.”

Eli wanted to be sure it was the same girl Jane had seen and not his friend losing it. “Harold, what did she look like?”

“The girl has long blonde hair and bright blue eyes—sometimes. She’s always wearing a yellow dress. Sometimes she…” he trailed off and shook off whatever made him shudder.

“What’s wrong?”

Harold looked like an addict going through withdrawal. He kept shaking.

“Sometimes she comes all melted, slimy, almost like in the horror movie. You know I hate horror films. Face all mangled, no eyes and her dress is green, like dark mold or something. I can smell the rot. It scares the shit out of me.”

“So what’s with the night vision glasses?” Eli picked up the goggles and studied them.

“She told me to get them. I needed to see clearly, she said.” He paused as though he was in a trance, took another long drag of his cigarette, then continued. “You know she told me the night before last I had to leave and drive down Route 41. She told me to leave my headlights off and use the goggles to see. But I didn’t want to listen to her.”

“So you didn’t?”

“No. But I woke up in the ditch a mile and half past Miller’s Farm on route 41. The goggles were on my head and no fucking shoes on, again. Did you know I had to walk all—”

“Harold, what did you see?” Eli’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

“I was laying there when I heard a car pass by. I tried to get up but I kept slipping back down into the ditch. When I finally crawled out, I saw an older Impala pull up to a woman. She must have been thumbing it, not sure, but she got in.” He took the last small drag and flicked it.

The hairs on the back of Eli’s neck stood on end. The chill went through him when Harold said “woman.” “Did you catch the license plates?”

“Actually, I didn’t see any,” Harold said while scratching his head.

“Do you know what the female hitchhiker looked like?” Eli’s voice turned stern.

Harold swallowed hard. “I need a drink.” He got up.

Eli grabbed his arm. “Harold, listen to me. Look at me. I need to know what she looked like and what she was wearing.”

“I couldn’t see her face. Damn, man, let go of me,” he hissed, jerking his arm out of Eli’s grip. “It was too dark, even for the night goggles. But I remember she had one of those hippy purses with strings, you know the type with crap hanging off of it. She had long hair and, that’s it.”

“Nothing else?”

“It was pitch black outside. Oh wait, she had on big ass shoes—the ones with fat heels. Maybe it’s boots.”

“Boots?” Eli asked.

“You know the ones that Sara wore at Halloween last year. The sexy black ones.”

Eli became numb. “Platforms.” Damn. It had to be the same woman who lay dead in the morgue.

“Yeah, those.” Harold got a beer and drank it down fast. “Eli, what does this have to do with my sleepwalking?”

“Did you see the driver of the car?”

“No. The driver never got out of the car.”             

The bastard got a witness to his crime. “Harold, I need you to stay here. I don’t want you to leave at all. Promise me.” Eli got up and stared down at his friend.

“Why not? What if the girl ghost shows again?”

“Ignore her.”

Eli took off back toward Raymond’s house. A few minutes later, Eli came back with Raymond on his heels.

“I’m not going into the fucking loony bin. You both can go kiss my ass!” Harold rushed back into his trailer.

“Harold, you’re not crazy,” Eli called out in a calm manner. “I believe you about everything.”

The door swung open, Harold stood there with tears streaming down. “Really? And I thought I was going crazy, like Daddy. Right, Raymond?” He came out and faced the two men.

“I told you, you numb nuts. We’re not like him.” Raymond wrapped his arm around Harold’s neck and knuckled his head. “You need to listen to me.”

Eli broke off the brotherly gesture. “I want you to stay with your brother. Harold. I don’t want you to leave the house, no matter what. I don’t want you to say a single word to anyone about what you told me. Do you understand? Your life and Jane’s depends on it.”

“Okay.”

“Harold, he means it. You have to keep your mouth shut,” Raymond growled out.

“I’m not deaf, dumb ass,” Harold countered. “I won’t say anything. I promise, Eli.”

Eli grabbed Raymond off to the side and talked to him in a low voice. “You have to keep him from sleepwalking out of your house. Don’t let him out of your sight.”

Raymond nodded in silence.

With assurance from his friend, Eli strode off back to his truck. He took off toward the old chief’s place at the edge of the county. Worry stirred in his gut. Getting caught was the last thing he wanted, but if he found evidence, Eli would have to lie about where he found it. It was the only way to keep his badge.

Surrounded by acres of farmland, Eli spotted the white rusted mailbox to Henley’s place. He pulled up to the dark blue two-story farmhouse and parked the truck in the back.

He kept the vehicle idle and waited. No one had followed him.
Never be too cautious when it came down to murder.

Eli got out of the truck and carefully took a good look around. It was a bit strange that all the drapes were closed except for the one upstairs.

After checking the front door, which was locked, Eli made his way to the screened-in back porch. He hesitated at the bottom steps. Eli was taking a great risk on a hunch. If Henley left clues or evidence about the killer or killers, then that was the break he needed for Jane’s case.

But, if Eli’s assumptions were wrong and he was found breaking in, he would lose his badge and any future in law enforcement was over. Jail might be his next residence.

Who cares. He was doing this for Jane and that’s what mattered.

The house was locked up tight, but Henley used to complain about how he had to get his back door fixed.

He jimmied the handle until it came off in two pieces and pushed the lock out.

“Two to five for this.” He placed the rusty pieces on the cement step.

It was dark inside and a faint moldy odor lingered along the doorway. It burned his nostrils as he inhaled.

He grabbed for the flashlight on his belt and remembered he left it on the seat. Eli went back to the truck to get the light. He happened to look up and thought he saw someone standing in the upstairs window. A chill zapped down his spine, but it didn’t stop him from proceeding inside. If it was a sign, then let it show him the way.

As he entered what looked like a mudroom, he called out in a whispered, “Okay, I’m here.” He felt ridiculous saying it out loud. Though he had to try.

The back room was connected to the small all-white kitchen. The faint smell of bleach lingered in the air. He poked his head into the baby blue tiled bathroom and found nothing but a clean room. Not even a toilet paper roll hung in the roll holder.

BOOK: Forgetting Jane
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