In the shadow, p.1
In The Shadow, page 1
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 Lily Campbell
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
What Did You Think Of
Give No Chance?
The Final Lie
Sneak Peek
Lawson & Abernathy Series
Special Agent Of Fbi Brenda Lawson And Homicide Detective Mack Abernathy
Illusive Series
Brenda And Mack’s Past
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CHAPTER ONE
The smell of damp earth and wet vegetation rose with every step they took. The ground became less solid as they crossed the Old River and headed deeper into the Serpent Bayou.
Jayden’s heart was racing, a mixture of fear, guilt, and anger burning through him. Beside him walked Hector, his best friend and brother of his girlfriend. Myra had now been missing for more than 48 hours. In some part of his mind, he knew he was dreaming. But no matter how he fought, he kept working his way deeper into the bayou.
This little search was being undertaken by members of the trailer park they all lived in on the northern edges of Natchitoches, Louisiana. The police were of no help. Not to people like them. Not when Myra was already nineteen and legally allowed to go where she pleased. She’d left a letter, but he hadn’t believed it for a minute. Neither had her brother.
“What was that?”
Hector’s voice was soft but broken with worry. Jayden knew what was coming and had no desire to relive the moment.
He took another step forward, pushing his way through the plants, coming right to the edge of the water.
He dropped his flashlight as the beam hit a familiar face, now streaked in blood, with glassy eyes staring past him.
There was shouting and curses, wailing and screams. More lights fell upon the scene as Jayden collapsed to his knees, the mud soaking into his trousers.
Her body was scattered, torn apart by animals, but the neat gash on her throat left them in no doubt that she had been murdered. The image of violence shattered memories of her laughing and singing, and dancing in the rain.
Jayden awoke with a start. His body drenched in a cold sweat, the sheets clinging to his naked torso. His eyes raked blindly across the darkened room as the images of blood and death still held sway. He muttered an oath and fell back against the pillows. He tried to push the dream and the memories that had formed it from his mind.
How long are you going to haunt me, Myra? he thought, running a hand through his long mop of inky hair.
It had been twenty years since they’d found her, but the memories hadn’t faded.
A sudden banging shot more adrenaline into his blood, and he bolted upright once more.
The banging came again. Jayden glanced at his clock.
Who the hell is hammering at the door at four in the morning on a Sunday?
Pulling on a pair of dark-blue jeans, he snatched up his titanium baseball bat and hurried to the door. He was not sure what to expect but was prepared for trouble. He passed through the doorway, moving from the part of the house that was his home to the part he used to run his business.
The woman standing outside looked mildly harassed. Her falsely-blonde hair and salmon-pink suit had both seen better days, and her make-up had clearly been done in a hurry.
She cast her narrowed gaze over his bare feet, naked chest, tousled hair, and baseball bat.
“Are you Private Investigator Jayden Roe?”
Jayden rolled his gray eyes, in no mood to be polite.
“That’s what it says on the door,” he jabbed a finger at the metal plaque that bore his credentials. “Along with my hours, which don’t start till eight, weekdays, and clearly says I’m closed on Sundays.”
She nodded and glanced back toward the street, clearly trying to find a way to convince him to open shop somehow. Jay followed her gaze and felt the irritation at being awaken become excitement. There, parked on the curb of Trudeau Street, was a sleek, black BMW, the sort not many in this town could afford.
“But,” his voice suddenly smooth and polite, “I can tell this must be important. A woman of your obvious pedigree would not ordinarily be knocking on doors before dawn. How can I help you, ma’am?”
She glanced again at his unclothed state, and he bit back a laugh. What was it with rich people and their inability to deal with things out of the ordinary?
“If you and your boss can give me ten minutes, I’ll get cleaned up, and we can talk.”
She nodded, clearly relieved, and headed back to the car.
Jay closed the front door slowly and caught a glimpse of the man who had come to see him at such an early hour. Mayor George Tyne, himself.
Jayden raced up the stairs. It had taken him a long time to build up the reputation he wanted. He was, after all, nothing more than some upstart from the wrong side of the tracks. None of the silver-spoons thought his people could change their spots.
He hopped in the shower, not even waiting for the water to warm. The shock of the icy jet chased away the lingering traces of his past, and he got quickly into the man he was now, two decades later.
He slipped back into his jeans, added a button-up white shirt, and combed his jet hair into a tail at the nape of his neck. Looking in the mirror, he tucked the leather thong and pendant he never removed under his shirt then turned back towards his office, slipping on his trademark black combat boots as he went.
The dawn’s gray light is just beginning to show. He opened the door and waved, then stood back as his guests hurried up the pathway.
“Mayor Tyne, I voted for you,” he mentioned, shutting the door and holding out a hand. “It is nice to meet you in person.”
The mayor shrugged off his pointless disguise, consisting of a tweed, long coat and black bowler hat. Quite apart from the fact that summer was nearing, and it was far too hot for clothes like that, no regular person would own those either. Not here. And even if that were not the case, the people who owned a car like the one outside could be counted on two hands.
Jay hid a smile as Mayor Tyne exchanged a glance with his assistant, who shook her head minutely, realizing that their attempt at subterfuge hadn’t succeeded.
“Please, sit,” Jayden said, indicating the two chairs before his mahogany desk. “I assume this is some kind of emergency?”
Accepting the invitation, Tyne let out a whistling breath. The gray hair in his bushy mustache twitched. He looked nervous, very nervous. His face was sweaty, with a greenish tinge, and his eyes were tight around the edges.
“I understand that you are the best Private Investigator in all of Louisiana, right?” asked the mayor.
Jayden tilted his head to the side but merely shrugged.
“I am flattered.” Jayden remarked, obviously happy about where this is going.
The mayor ran a beefy hand over his bald pate, eyes still darting around as if expecting a surprise attack.
“What I meant is you can fix anything. You can rewrite history.”
Jayden frowned, even as he kept his other reactions hidden. Whatever the mayor had gotten himself implicated in, i
“No one can alter the past, Mayor Tyne. What I may be able to do is ensure that the consequence goes where we’d like, rather than where they’d naturally fall.”
“I heard you got a councilman in Bogalusa off a rape charge and an Ivy League heiress in Lafayette off a drug charge,” the mayor’s light-brown gaze finally settled on Jayden.
Jayden let his eyebrows crumple.
“Their lawyers would have done that, Mayor Tyne. I’m an investigator. I track down information, leads, and evidence. I don’t get anyone off anything.”
Tyne smiled, seeming to decide that he knew what Jay was doing.
“Of course, of course,” Mayor Tyne began whispering. “But what about murder? Have you ever helped, er, investigate one of them?”
His assistant stiffened, and he gave her a dark look before turning back to Jay.
Jay counted to ten in his head then opened his mouth again.
“I have. Many times. Why don’t you tell me what you really want, Mayor Tyne? Your words will not go beyond these walls,” Jay reassured. “Besides, if there is a murder investigation coming, you don’t want to look suspicious by hiring an investigator before any formal charges are laid.”
Tyne’s eyes narrowed when he suddenly realized how stupid coming he had been.
“You’re right. I’ll get to the point. I want you to back me. I want you to investigate and find me the evidence or information my lawyers need to stop that damned Detective Piers. He will no doubt be trying to rain on my head.”
Jayden leaned back in his chair, contemplating the offer.
“I will pay whatever you want,” added Tyne, growing more nervous with every passing minute.
“And if I don’t just want money?” Jay requested.
“Name your price.” Tyne met his eyes and gave Jay a small smile.
“Tell me all your friends who saved your career.”
CHAPTER TWO
Detective Hector Piers ran a hand through his light brown hair and shook his head in disgust.
Two teenagers lay on the dusty floor between the rusty shells of unwanted cars, their skin blue with death. It was five-thirty in the afternoon and the usual quiet of Sunday had been shattered by wailing sirens and the discovery of two bodies.
“What have you got for me?” Piers asked, turning to his forensic tech.
Natalie slipped a scrap of something into an evidence bag. She glanced up at him and smoothed back a wayward strand of her red hair.
“Nothing much, I’m afraid. Two adolescents, both female, no ID, no signs of brutality, or wounds,” Natalie answered back. “From the discoloration around their mouths, I’m putting my bet on some kind of drug overdose.”
Piers sighed. This was the third murder in as many weeks. One had been a robbery gone wrong, the other a result of a drunken brawl, but this one seemed likely to take up much more of his time. He knew he should be determined to find justice for the two corpses at his feet, and he would, but it would mean putting his sister’s case on the back-burner again. Myra Piers’ murder had officially been labeled a cold case. Even though he’d never given up, two decades of digging had yielded nothing.
But I’m close. I can feel it. He had to catch a break at some point, right?
“This is unpleasant.”
Piers spun to the voice. Once familiar and welcome, but now only a reminder of betrayal and loss.
“Get back behind the line, Roe,” he bit out, his dark eyes flashing in warning.
“What line? Besides, I’m an investigator, Hector. Same as you.” Jay threw him a cocky smile.
“You are nothing like me,” Hector growled. “Behind the line my men are about to put up.”
Jayden ignored him and glanced over the bodies again, his keen mind visibly whirring away behind his gray eyes.
“I see. Well, that all seems pretty straightforward.”
Hector bit his tongue, dying to ask Jayden to elaborate but knowing his pride would never let him. “You trying to tell me someone has hired you?” he asked instead.
“Nope.”
“Then what’s the point in making leading statements about the scene!”
“Don’t worry. I reckon you’ll get there in the end. Of course, it’ll probably be too late by then.” Jayden glanced his way and smirked.
Piers ground his teeth. “Get back behind the damn line or I will have you arrested.”
Roe threw him a disparaging look. “First, you can’t arrest me for crossing a cordon that wasn’t in place yet. I had legitimate business here selling an old Ford pickup I have no need of. Second, keep your hat on. I only wanted to throw this away. None of your officers said I couldn’t.” Jay turned, tossed his paper in the silver trash can, and sauntered out of the lot.
Piers forced himself to remain still and silent even as the sting of betrayal washed over him again. Jay had always been the smart one, him and Myra. Yet for all he had said he loved her, he hadn’t lifted a finger or used any of his brilliant mind to help gain her justice. Instead, he had abandoned everyone from his past and became a private investigator, leaving justice to others.
He left her death and everything that came after on me, flitting off and pretending to be better than the rest of us.
“Detective?” Natalie interrupted his moment.
He snapped out of his reverie and re-focused on Natalie, who was now holding out an evidence bag for his inspection. Inside lay a silver cigarette lighter, a swallow in flight etched onto the side.
“You think we’ll get some usable prints?” he asked, pushing his one-time friend from his mind.
Her olive-green eyes sparkled with mischief. “Maybe. But we might not need them. Look.”
Piers shifted his gaze down to the newspaper Roe had tossed in the bin and felt a vindictive smile spread over his lips. The front-page story showed their local celebrity, Matthew Goldstein, smiling with Mayor Tyne, who held an unlit cigar and a lighter. Just like the one in the bag.
***
Jayden shook his head once he was back in his red Land Rover Sport. Hector had always been at the mercy of his own emotions, and even though they were now both nearing forty, time hadn’t seemed to have changed that fact. Neither had time altered the fact that Natchitoches’ police department was still severely underfunded, understaffed, and held back by officers unwilling to do more than the bare minimum.
He bit back a laugh, wondering how the Hector he had once been friends with managed to cope with all that without landing himself in the hospital with a stress-induced stroke. He gunned the engine, feeling grudging respect for the determination of his old friend, even if he also believed him too stubborn and small-minded.
He parked in his garage a few minutes later and entered his office. He and Mayor Tyne had agreed to sign no agreement until after some kind of official charge had been laid.
Then, when I win this for him, he’ll spread my name, my reputation, further through the upper echelons of society.
It was for that reason that he hadn’t wasted any time. The bodies had been dumped behind their local used car dealer, who also owned a small scrapyard at the back of his shop. Jayden thought about the scene again. The victims had been left with no ID, but it wouldn’t take the police long to discover their identities. Their families would likely be distraught, and unwilling to talk to many people.
Not that they’d be likely to talk to me anyway.
His quick visual sweep of the scene had shown him that they were likely from a similar background to his own. Dirt poor, rough family or neighbors, and a thirst to prove themselves.
Nodding to himself, he powered up his secure laptop. The big PC in his office space was rarely used, holding only the most basic of information. This little device, installed with the latest spyware, firewalls, encryption programs, and virus loops was where all the real action happened.
He hacked his way into the civic records for Natchitoches and ran the results through his criteria. Two caucasian females, aged fourteen to sixteen, likely delinquents or trouble makers at the local secondary.
He made himself a cup of coffee while the program whittled down the list from the 18,000 strong population. Sitting back in his seat, he looked at the six names that matched his criteria and deleted another two by hand, their white-blonde hair not a match for the caramel and brown of the victims.
Looking harder at the photos, he felt he had his victims. Ella Lane and Lucy Keller. Jay frowned, running a hand over the light stubble on his square jaw. The Kellers were generally a well-respected family. Not quite in the same league as the Goldsteins, Natchitoches’ own royal family, or even with Mayor Tyne, but still high enough to not be counted among the rabble. Why had their daughter been looking so ragged?
