Out of the Dark (31 page)

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Authors: Sharon Sala

BOOK: Out of the Dark
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Understanding dawned. “Just because the authorities wouldn’t be able to identify them, that doesn’t mean other people won’t. People who knew those man when they were younger.”

“Exactly.”

“Brilliant,” Sam muttered. “And I hope it scares the hell out of every mother’s son of them.”

Luke patted Sam on the back.

“I need to go tell Jade.”

“Tell me what?” Jade asked.

Luke jumped. Sam gasped.

“I didn’t know you were there,” Luke said.

Jade frowned. “Obviously. So what is it you need to tell me?”

“They’ve arrested the man they think hired Johnny Newton.”

Impulsively she clapped her hands in a gesture of relief.

“You’re kidding! So soon? Does this mean the danger is passed? What’s his name?”

“Maybe,” Luke said, then took a deep breath, carefully watching Jade’s face as he answered the last part of her question. “His name is Frank. Frank Lawson. He’s running for governor of Tennessee.”

Jade heard the name, but from a distance. Already the room was starting to spin. She was reaching for Luke’s arm when everything went black. She never knew that he caught her before she hit the floor.

“In here!” Sam cried, and led the way into the living room, where he tossed the throw pillows on the sofa into the floor. “Do you think we should call someone?”

Luke laid her gently down on the sofa, then smoothed the hair back from her face. Only seconds before, she had been so at ease. Now they were back to square one.

“No. She just fainted. Maybe if we had a wet cloth?”

Sam hurried out of the room, calling for Velma as he went.

Within seconds of Sam’s exit, Jade began coming around. The first thing she felt were hands on her face, then her body, and she began pushing them away in an effort to escape.

“No, no…get away from me.”

Immediately Luke turned loose of her.

“Easy, honey, it’s okay. It’s me, Luke. Take it easy. You just fainted.”

She groaned, then rolled over to the side of the sofa and sat up.

“What happened?”

“I mentioned Frank Lawson’s name. You fainted.”

“Oh God.” She started to tremble.

“Do you think it’s the same man?” Luke asked.

“I don’t know. I’d have to see his face.”

“Did you draw a picture of the man who cut you?”

Jade gasped, then nodded. “Yes. The police have it. The name on it is Uncle Frank.”

“I’ll have Earl fax a copy of the picture to my apartment,” Luke said. “I’ll take it with me when I go to Nashville. I’ll bring back a picture of the man they arrested.”

“Should I go with you?”

“Hell no. The media would have a field day with that.” Then he sighed. He had to tell her the rest, so she could at least be prepared. “There’s something else,” he said. “Earl hinted that someone might have leaked the existence of your drawings to the press. If so, don’t be surprised if they start showing up in the tabloids.”

“I don’t care,” she said. “They’ve haunted me for far too long. Let someone else live with those faces for a while.”

Luke grinned. “Way to go, Jade!”

“What?”

He cupped her face, then leaned down and gave her a kiss.

“Because after grief, one of the next steps to healing is anger, and God knows you have a right to be pissed.”

“I do, don’t I?”

At that point Sam came running back into the room, with Velma on his heels carrying a handful of damp washcloths and a large fluffy towel. When Sam saw Jade sitting up, he dropped onto the cushion beside her.

“Darling, are you all right?”

Her chin jutted angrily. “Yes. Sorry I upset you. It was just such a surprise.”

“Then I take it you don’t need reviving,” he said.

“Not at all. What I need is some justice, and you and Luke are doing all you can to see that happen.”

“All right, then,” Sam said, then grabbed a wet cloth from the stack in Velma’s hands and slapped it on his own forehead. “You may not need this anymore, but I do.”

They all looked at him and then burst out laughing. He grinned wryly, then leaned against the sofa and scrubbed the wet cloth over his face.

 

Luke left within the hour. Jade stood at the window, waving as he drove away. She waved until she could no longer see his car, then glanced at the house across the street. A shudder ran through her as she thought of that poor little woman. What a horrible end to what had been a long and happy life.

Somewhere in another part of the house a phone began to ring. She turned around, then paused in the foyer, staring at the surrounding opulence. It was still difficult to believe that she had the right to take all of this for granted.

“Jade…honey…have you got a minute?”

Sam was halfway up the stairs, standing on the landing.

She shrugged. “Time is about all I do have.” Then she made herself smile. “And it’s all yours.”

Sam held out his hand. “Come with me. I have something to show you.”

Jade let him lead her up the stairs. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“You’ll see,” he said, and led her past her old bedroom to another set of stairs. They went up yet another story.

Jade gasped in surprise. “Oh my, I guess I thought this level of the house was just an attic.”

Sam smiled as he took her hand. “When my grandfather was a little boy, it was the servants’ quarters. Once your mother and I had plans to fill this house with children.” The smile shifted slightly as sadness came and went on his face. “But of course that didn’t happen. Years back, I used to host the occasional house party, and these were the guest rooms. But no more. I don’t have the stomach for all the fuss and bother. Lately it’s just been gathering dust.”

“So why are we here?” Jade asked.

“You’ll see. It’s right behind this door. Now close your eyes.”

Jade’s eyes widened. “You mean it’s a surprise?”

Sam chuckled. “Yes. For you. Your eyes, please.”

She closed her eyes. Sam took her hand and led her forward.

“Careful here. There’s a small threshold. Step over it. And don’t peek.”

Jade giggled.

The sound brought tears to Sam’s eyes, but he quickly brushed them away. Today was a day of joy, not for reminders of all they’d lost.

“Okay. Now you can look.”

Still smiling, Jade opened her eyes. Then she gasped and took a sudden step back.

“Oh! Oh, no.” She clasped her hands over her mouth and then looked at Sam in disbelief. “You did this? For me?”

“You don’t like it? You’re such a powerful artist, I thought you—”

“Like it? Oh, Dad…you don’t understand. It’s like something out of a dream. I always wanted…I thought maybe one day I…”

She covered her face and then started to cry.

Sam smiled with relief. A crying woman made him nervous, but a woman crying from happiness he could handle. He gave her a hug, then handed her his handkerchief and tugged her forward.

“Look. See here by this bank of windows? You’ll have good morning light. There are dozens and dozens of different sizes of canvases, and a supply of paints and brushes in the cabinet in the next room. Oh…and I didn’t know about easels, so I got several. One is for very large canvases, the others, I’m told, are adjustable.”

Jade kept moving from one thing to another, picking it up and then putting it down as something else caught her eye. Finally she remembered where she was and that Sam was still there.

“This is the most marvelous thing anyone has ever done for me. I don’t know how to thank you.”

Sam let out a big sigh of relief.

“Paint me a pretty picture.”

She laughed, and then ran toward him, threw her arms around his neck and soundly kissed his cheek.

“Oh, Sam…Daddy…thank you, thank you a thousand times.”

Sam froze. He had heard her say it once before, but he had begun to believe it would never happen again. Now he was the one in tears.

“Jade, darling, it was a pleasure. Don’t you know how much you are loved?”

“You know…I think I’m beginning to find out.”

“Okay then,” Sam said. “Why don’t I leave you to look around on your own?”

“Yes, all right, but where will you be?”

“Oh, honey, don’t worry. I’ll be right here in the house. If you need me, call out. I’ll come running.”

“I’ll be fine. I just…just wanted to know, that’s all.”

“Of course. You hardly had time to settle in here before everything came undone. In time, you will feel comfortable here again, just as you did when you were a child.”

She thought about what he’d said and knew that would never happen unless she came to terms with her past. But she didn’t know how.

“Daddy?”

“Yes?”

“You know that doctor…Dr. DiMatto?”

“Antonia?”

Jade nodded. “So, do you think it would be possible if I saw her sometimes? You know…just until I can get a handle on things?”

“I think that’s a very good idea. Would you like me to call her for you?”

“Raphael always wanted me to get help. I would never listen to him. I wish he was still alive so I could tell him I understand, and that I know he was right.”

“He knows, Jade.”

“Yes, maybe he does at that,” Jade said.

“I’ll go make that call.”

“Okay, and if Luke happens to call, will you let me know?”

Sam hid a smile. “Yes. I’ll let you know.”

Twenty-One

S
am Cochrane’s jet arrived in Nashville just after two in the afternoon. Luke was out of the plane and in a cab within minutes of landing. He gave the address to the driver, then settled back for the ride. A short while later, he dumped a handful of bills over the seat, grabbed his own suitcase and hurried into the building. After that, it was just a matter of getting to the police chief’s office.

“Chief Randall, I’m Luke Kelly. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”

Randall met him at the door.

“Earl Walters called. I’ve been expecting you.”

Luke set his suitcase down, then followed the chief back to his desk.

“Have a seat,” Randall said. “So, I understand you want to interrogate one of our prisoners?”

“Frank Lawson.”

Randall leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands over his chest.

“Yes, Big Frank himself. If someone had told me two days ago that this would be happening, I would have called them a liar. Now…” He shrugged.

“It’s important,” Luke said.

Randall’s good old boy attitude quickly vanished.

“Everything regarding the law in my city is important to me, too, son. But I understand you have a personal interest in this?”

Luke nodded. “You’re familiar with the Cochrane case in St. Louis?”

Randall nodded. “Everyone is, if they watch any television. Earl Walters is a good friend. He said you could be trusted. I am assuming you’re not planning to let him down?”

“No, sir. But our best interests are aimed at Jade Cochrane’s welfare. Someone put a hit out on her childhood friend, Raphael, and we think on her, too. She and I had a near miss with some tampered brakes. But Raphael was brutally murdered, as were his private nurse and an elderly woman who lived in the house across the street from Sam Cochrane. The killer was a man named Johnny Newton. I trust you’ve already been told all this?”

“Yes, but please continue. You’re putting it into a much clearer perspective for me.”

“When Newton was taken down, we found a piece of paper in his clothes with Frank Lawson’s name and private cell phone number on it. We took Newton’s own phone and made the call so that his name would show up on caller ID. Frank Lawson basically spilled his guts before he realized he wasn’t talking to Newton. Then he tried to lie his way out of it. Obviously our men didn’t buy it, and then your men stopped him from flight. So what I need to know is if he’s the end, or if there’s someone farther up who’s calling the shots.”

“And you think you can get answers from him that we can’t?”

Luke leaned forward.

“Oh yes.”

Randall frowned. “Why you?”

“Because I’m in love with Jade Cochrane. And I want to know if he’s the son-of-a-bitch who put a scar on her that nearly killed her. I want to know if he was one of the men who paid money to be with her when she was a child.”

Randall was shocked and made no attempt to hide it.

“Are you saying that Frank Lawson is a child molester?”

Luke took the photocopy of the picture of the man Jade had called Uncle Frank from his jacket and laid it on Randall’s desk.

“Is this man Frank Lawson?”

Randall picked up the picture. Despite the years between, it was definitely recognizable.

“Good drawing.”

“Jade Cochrane is a professional artist.”

“She drew this?”

“And a whole lot more.”

Randall whistled softly through his teeth as he kept looking at the drawing. “Yes, I’d say that’s Lawson. A much younger version, but Lawson just the same.”

Luke felt a surge of justification as he put the picture back in his pocket, then took out the other one he’d brought.

“This is the drawing she did of the bastard who called himself Solomon. He was the supposed leader and pimped the kids in the cult to pedophiles. She was six when it started and twelve when she ran. Thanks to your ID, we can pretty much assume that Lawson was one of the customers.”

During his career in law enforcement, Randall was a man who’d often been exposed to the darker side of society, but this story turned even his stomach.

“Christ! And we almost elected him governor.”

“So do I get to talk to him or not?”

“I’d like a couple of my detectives to sit in.”

“I don’t care if you televise it to the whole city,” Luke said.

Randall nodded. “Okay, let’s get this show rolling.” He picked up the phone and made a call. “Captain, this is Chief Randall. I’m sending a man named Luke Kelly over to your office. I would take it as a personal favor if you would have a couple of your detectives escort him to an interview room and provide him with Frank Lawson’s presence. Oh, yes. It might be a good idea if the detectives stayed with him. He seems like a nice enough man, but he’s real pissed right now, not that I blame him. However, we wouldn’t want to have to put a good man in jail…. Yes. Thank you.”

Luke breathed a quiet sigh of relief. It was going to happen.

 

“International flight passengers traveling to New York City with connecting flights to Lisbon or Antigua, please begin boarding at Gate….”

Otis cursed beneath his breath and then shifted his carry-on to the other side of his seat. He’d been waiting for the better part of two hours to board his flight to Geneva at LAX, but it kept showing up on the departure board as a delay. He’d questioned the gate attendants so many times that now they glared at him every time he moved. The only good thing about the departure of this latest flight was that the woman and her three screaming kids who had been sitting beside him would be leaving, too. No wonder her husband was getting on that plane without her. If she was his wife, he would leave her and those brats behind—permanently. Then he amended the thought. If she’d been his wife, he would have made damned sure she’d never gotten with child. He didn’t like kids. Never had. Except as a commodity, but even that had run its course.

Which reminded him that it was because of kids that he was, once again, on the run. Starting over in life had been easy, even fun, when he was younger. But he was getting to the age where he liked his creature comforts more than excitement. Hell, he’d screwed more women in his lifetime than a thousand men put together, then made a fortune selling films of them screwing others. It had been a damned good run, but thanks to Jade Cochrane’s tenacity, that was now over, too.

Slowly the area began to clear, and for a time the only things to be heard were the distant rumble of voices and the occasional squawk of the P.A. system announcing another arrival or departure. In boredom, he glanced up at the television mounted on the wall above him and then grunted as if he’d been punched.

It was a close-up of Frank Lawson’s face. Only it wasn’t one of his prerecorded political spots. According to the news anchor, the film they were showing had been recorded earlier this morning. It was of Lawson being arrested, handcuffed and taken to jail. Rumors abounded as to why it was happening, but the one that seemed to have the most credence had him connected to a hit man and three murders in Missouri.

Otis groaned. This sucked. If they’d already tied Lawson to that, then it stood to reason that they would find out why Lawson wanted them dead. And if they found that out, then it also stood to reason that they would want to know the name of the man who’d provided Lawson with his…entertainment years ago. And if Lawson knew or could find out where “Solomon” had gone…Otis Jacks’ days were numbered—unless, of course, his flight finally took off.

Then he took a slow, calming breath. They could look for both Solomon and Otis Jacks until the end of time but wouldn’t be able to find them. Solomon had vanished years ago, and Otis Jacks, too, had dropped off the face of the earth as abruptly as he had arrived. Otis wasn’t Otis anymore. He was Myron Handelman. He owned property in Switzerland in that name. He had money in a Swiss bank under that name, and he had purchased his ticket under that name. He had a passport, a driver’s license and credit cards to prove it. The only thing that bothered him was that he hadn’t had time to get the new face. That would have to wait until he got to Geneva.

 

Frank Lawson had lost all his bluster. For a man who had spent the past few months making speech after speech, he was unusually silent. When he’d been told that someone from St. Louis was coming to talk to him, he’d insisted that his lawyer be present. Now, while he was waiting for everyone to arrive, he kept thinking back over the last week, trying to figure out what he could have done differently, wondering if it would have made any difference if he’d simply gone to St. Louis and done the job himself. He knew he was capable of murder. He just hadn’t been certain he could get close enough to Jade or Raphael, so he’d hired Newton, which had proved to be a fiasco. How could he have known that Newton was such a screw-up? Hired killers were supposed to be cold and calculating—and careful. Newton had proved to be the exception to the rule. And that had brought both of them down.

And Frank Lawson
was
down—as down as he’d ever been in his life—but he wasn’t out completely. At least, not yet. He would wait to see what this St. Louis cop had to offer, then make his decision as to the wisest course of action.

“Hey, Governor, you’ve got a visitor. Get up and step away from the door.”

Frank ignored the snide reference to his defunct political aspirations and pretended it was an everyday occurrence to be wearing prison orange as he received guests. Ignoring the handcuffs the guard snapped around his wrists, he let himself be led to the visiting area.

He was swaggering as he walked into the room. He recognized two of Nashville’s homicide detectives and nodded cordially. Then his gaze slid to the tall, dark-haired man in the corner of the room. He was standing with his feet apart and his arms folded across his chest, and he was staring at Frank with what could only be described as complete antipathy.

Frank stared rudely. The man didn’t so much as blink. But in the ensuing seconds, Frank would have sworn that the air in the room suddenly became too dense to breathe. He wanted to look away but found himself locked into the stranger’s stare.

“Mr. Lawson, please sit down.”

Frank blinked, then realized one of the detectives was speaking. He sat.

“Where’s Gorman? Where’s my lawyer?” he asked.

“I’m right here,” Paul Gorman said as he was ushered into the room. “Sorry I’m late. Got caught in traffic.”

Bolstered by his lawyer’s presence, Frank settled back in the chair.

“So what’s up?” he asked.

One of the detectives, a man named Art Brewster, noticed they were now a chair short and motioned to the guard who’d brought Lawson in.

“Would you tell someone outside to get Mr. Kelly a chair?”

“I’ll stand,” Luke said.

Frank frowned. It was an intimidation tactic. Determined to control the situation, he spoke up first.

“Mr. Kelly, is it? I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Jade Cochrane sends her regards.”

The blood drained out of Lawson’s face so fast he felt light-headed. He knew he should respond, but he couldn’t find the words.

“What’s wrong?” Luke asked. “Surely you haven’t forgotten her? Pretty little girl. Black hair. Blue eyes. Begging for you to let her go. But you couldn’t, could you? You like them fragile and helpless. The flat chest and tiny hands and feet turn you on, don’t they.”

Lawson swayed, as if Luke’s words were actual physical blows, then looked wildly about the room, only to be met with horrified stares. He’d been riding out the accusations of hiring a hit man with aplomb, but having the world know his dirty little secret was like having his legs cut out from under him.

“Shut up,” he mumbled. “Shut up. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Luke moved then. Only one step, but it was enough to make Frank panic.

“Keep him away from me,” Frank said.

“I told Jade that if I ever found the man who cut her, I would kill him.”

Both detectives jumped, their hands automatically going to their guns.

“But then I decided there was a better punishment for him than a quick death.”

The detectives relaxed. Frank did not.

“Gorman…do something! You can’t let him talk to me like that.”

Gorman was already waffling between his conscience and the money Lawson was paying him. He’d represented plenty of people accused of murder, some who had actually done the deed. But Paul Gorman had three little girls, ages twelve, seven and six, and Luke Kelly’s accusations had literally turned his stomach. He couldn’t find the words to answer.

“Lawson!” Luke barked.

Frank’s frantic gaze slid back to Luke Kelly.

“Leave me alone,” Frank whined. “You’re no cop. I don’t have to talk to you if I don’t want to.”

“Me leave you alone?” He grinned. “You need to practice that phrase, because where you’re headed, you’re going to use it more than you can imagine.”

“What are you talking about?” Frank asked.

“Do you know who inmates hate worse than the people who put them behind bars? Perverts. Child molesters. Pedophiles. That’s who. I don’t have to live with your blood on my hands, because once you’re inside, someone is bound to do the job for me, and with a whole lot more originality.”

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