Saints and Sinners, page 7
part #1 of Jessie St James Adventures Series
“Who said I was protecting you?” Roman asked. “Maybe what you just said makes a lot of sense and I don’t want you to get all the glory. Or maybe I’d rather not be standing outside the burning building where you got barbecued. I doubt your father would like me very much after that.”
“I doubt he likes you very much right now,” Jessie replied.
“Whatever the case, this is all very self-serving on my part. So you can stop with all the ‘sacrificial’ talk. I’m doing this for me. Now, lead the way.”
“Figures,” Jessie muttered, walking toward the door. “Just do what I say. I don’t think I'll have time to go saving your ass while we’re in here.”
“Your pig, your bacon,” Roman answered. “You’re the boss.”
“Good,” Jessie said, taking one last, deep breath before pushing the door open and charging into the smoke filled living room. “Very good.”
14
Smoke filled Jessie’s eyes as she trudged into the living room. The heat that had hit her when she walked into the yard was nothing compared to what she felt now. Her entire body seemed to radiate with the warmth, and as she saw the flames eating through the back wall, she realized the fire had spread much more than she’d originally thought.
Blinking hard, Jessie took short, shallow breaths, though even that was enough to set her lungs on fire.
“Do we both immediately regret this decision?” Roman asked from behind her, coughing through his words.
“Stay down here. Look for anything that seems out of the ordinary or hidden in some way,” Jessie said, not bothering to reply to his question. “I’m going to go upstairs. If Fallon was hiding some evidence in here, I’m guessing it would most likely be in her room.”
“So, we don’t regret it then?” Roman asked.
Jessie moved toward the stairs, continuing her short, shallow, and almost useless breaths. She could feel her body filling with smoke. She could feel herself starting to get lightheaded. In the back of her mind, she thought that maybe this was a mistake. Maybe she should have waited for the fire department, but she knew better. If there were something hidden in here, then by the time they got here, it could well have already gone up in flames. More than that, if this were supposed to be a message, having the fire department coming in here and stomping all over it would be the last thing she needed.
Jessie started up the steps, the heat of the fire threatening to knock her down. Though her heart was racing and sweat poured from her in glistening sheets, it wasn’t exactly right to say that Jessie was afraid. Sure, she had no interest in jumping in and out of a raging fire like some idiot, but she also knew that things like this, doing what had to be done regardless of how insane and dangerous they might seem, were all part of the job. She had dreamed of being a detective for as long as she could remember, and for nearly as long, she’d yearned to bring justice for her brother. Jessie wasn’t about to chicken out now that she was so close to realizing both of her dreams.
The steps creaked uneasily underfoot as Jessie ascended them. Though her mind was sharp and ready, she couldn’t help pulling up a memory of one of the only other times she had ever been in this house.
She was barely older than a toddler. Even then, though, Jessie knew how special these moments with her brother were. He and Fallon had taken her out to watch some animated movie she had been screaming about for the entire week and then for ice cream. When it was over, she went with her brother to walk Fallon home. That was all it was supposed to be. It was already later than Jessie had ever been out at night. So, when Fallon invited Nate to come inside for whatever a ‘nightcap’ was, the young girl knew that their parents wouldn’t like the idea.
She didn’t care, though. Even then, Jessie was a rule breaker. The little girl laughed like a banshee as she rushed up the steps, the same steps she was so cautiously walking up now. Nate tried to shut her up, telling her that Fallon’s parents would wring all their necks if they knew he was inside their house this late, but Jessie didn’t care. She was too happy, too ‘in the moment’. That moment felt like a different lifetime now.
Jessie felt out of breath as she made her way to the top of the staircase. She heard the fire roaring under her, crackling loudly as it continued to burn. She thought of Roman, of the way he was probably feverishly looking around the fire. He said he’d come in here to make sure she didn’t show him up, and maybe that was partially true. Jessie also knew that there was something else to his decision to follow her into the literal mouth of danger, though, not that she had the time or mental capacity to really dig into it right now.
Shaking her head, she pushed through the rising smoke and felt her way to the door she remembered to be Fallon’s. Pushing through it, what she was met with stole what was left of Jessie’s breath.
Peering through more smoke, she saw the word Murderer scrawled in what looked to be blood all over the wall. Even more jarring than that was the man standing beside it. He was tall and lanky, and on his face sat a mask . . . a mask resembling a rabbit.
“Rabbit, rabbit,” Jessie muttered to herself, grabbing her gun and pointing it at the masked man. “On your knees!” she screamed.
The masked man answered, though his words came out as a mumble.
“I said on your knees! Don’t think I won’t shoot you!” Jessie was bluffing. Or at least, she thought she was. She would have liked to think that she’d have followed the letter of the law, that she wouldn’t have fired on the masked man unless she knew without a shadow of a doubt that her life was in danger. In truth, though, she figured she was capable of anything at this point.
It didn’t matter, though. The masked man moved, folding onto his knees and putting his hands behind his head.
“Really?” Jessie muttered, surprised at how easy it was. “Okay, then.”
With her gun still raised at the man, Jessie walked forward. Her eyes were peeled, or as peeled as they could be, given how smoky the room was, and her steps were cautious and considerate.
“Don’t move an inch,” Jessie said. “I’m serious, not one inch.”
Jessie half expected the man to nod in compliance, but he did better than that. He didn’t move even a centimeter as she reached for the mask, pulling on it with the gun still pointed at the rabbit’s head.
As the mask fell away, Jessie gasped again. She was hoping against hope that it really would be this easy, that it would all end right here and right now. That wasn’t the case, though. Because behind the mask wasn’t some nefarious criminal. It was Bill Yearman. Tears streamed down his face and his mouth was gagged.
“Help.” He coughed. “Please, Jessie, help me!”
15
Jessie walked into the precinct, running a hand through her hair and trying to steady herself. The fire department had burst in right after she unmasked Bill, and both of them were pulled from the burning building just a couple of minutes before the back wall crumbled entirely. Bill was taken to San-Cap Medical Center, where he was declared healthy and unharmed, while Jessie and Roman were given clean bills of health at the backs of the ambulances that showed up at the scene.
With all of that over, it was time for Bill to give a statement about what had happened to him and how he’d ended up where Jessie had found him and what he was doing there. Jessie wasn’t about to miss that, even if her father did come marching out to her like a drill sergeant the instant he laid eyes on her.
“In my office,” Clint said. Before she could answer, the man turned on his heels and headed back toward his door. If they were at home and if Jessie were acting solely as the man’s daughter right now, she’d have put up a fuss. After all, she was a grownup and she wasn’t about to be told what to do in such a manner, even if the guy telling her to do it was her dad. She wasn’t just a daughter right now, though. She was a detective, and she was taking an order from her superior officer. Anything other than silently doing as she was told would smack of petulance and the sort of bravado that would lead people to think of favoritism.
Closing Clint’s door behind her, Jessie barely needed to look at the man to tell he was livid. She knew from his breathing, from the way he huffed like a jackhammer against concrete. The man did that anytime he got himself worked up, and judging from the sheer ferocity in which his nostrils were flaring now, he must be about to blow a gasket.
“Dad,” Jessie said, deciding to use the most familiar way of addressing him possible. She wasn’t sure what was making the man so angry, but the way she saw it, it was best to hedge her bets. “What’s going on?”
“You ran into a burning building,” he answered without missing a beat. “And you’re on the damn clock. Address me like it!”
Jessie blinked hard, steadying herself and setting her jaw. “Fine,” she answered. “I’m well aware of what I did, Captain St. James. I don’t need it repeated to me, thank you.”
“You see, Detective, that’s where you and I disagree. Because the way I see it, not only do you need to be reminded, the information needs to be drilled into you.”
“I did what I thought was necessary,” she said.
“You did something ridiculously stupid,” he replied.
“I was right,” she answered.
“You were lucky. That’s different from being right, and either way, it’s beside the point,” Clint growled. “You know what your job is. You know where the lines are.”
“My job is to find the truth,” she replied quickly, bridging the distance between herself and her father. “The truth was in that bedroom. Or at least, part of it was.”
“You know what else was in that bedroom, Jess? A bunch of danger that you weren’t trained to deal with.” Clint was practically shouting now.
“Jess?” Jessie asked, her eyebrows raised. “Now who’s acting like he’s not on the clock?”
“I’ll call you whatever I damn well please,” Clint replied. “You almost got yourself killed. You have no idea how to deal with stuff like that.”
“Maybe,” Jessie admitted. “But I’m also the only reason Bill isn’t dead. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“It would if you had any way of knowing that was even true,” Clint said. “The fire department was three minutes behind you, Jess. Three minutes.”
“He might not have survived that three minutes,” the woman countered.
“You might not have either,” Clint said, blinking hard.
Jessie took a deep breath, sighing as she settled in front of the desk her father stood behind. “I know you were worried about me. I know you’re always worried about me, but I’m okay. I promise you that I am.”
“Don’t do that,” Clint said, shaking his head hard. “There will be time for me to be your father, for me to hug you and thank God you’re okay, and to scream at you too. This isn’t that time. I’m talking about the rules you broke. I’m talking about the way you compromised the fire department and their job. They went in there half-cocked because the Walkers told them two police officers ran into a burning home. You compromised them, Jessie. You put them in danger too.”
“I didn’t take that into consideration,” Jessie admitted.
“Neither of you did,” Clint sighed.
Jessie dropped her head. “Roman didn’t—”
“Roman has to answer for his own actions,” Clint said. “But don’t think I don’t know that you forced his hand. You’re the reason he was there. You’re the reason he’s in the trouble he’s in.”
“Trouble?” Jessie asked.
“This isn’t the first time that man has pushed a boundary under my watch,” Clint said. “He’s a hothead, Jessie. He jumps first and asks questions later. That might make him very exciting, but it also makes for a pretty serious liability. I was hoping you might be able to temper him. I didn’t foresee your being the one needing the tempering.”
“I knew, Dad,” she said, going back to the informal despite her father’s warnings. “I knew in my gut that there was something in there for me, some sort of message.”
“Murderer,” Clint said, repeating the word scrawled in blood on the wall.
“I wonder what it all means,” Jessie asked.
“You have an officer nursing a cup of coffee in the other room who might be able to help you with that,” Clint replied.
“Bill,” Jessie said, nodding. “Is Roman already speaking with him?”
“Roman is at home,” Clint said. “He’s off the case. He’s also not going to be your partner anymore. I guess you were right. The two of you just don’t work well together.”
Jessie was taken aback. “Dad, that’s not what I meant. It wasn’t—”
“It’s late, and the softening nature of my tone aside, I’m still not happy with you,” Clint said. “Go talk to Bill, Jessie. Do your job. The rest of it isn’t up for discussion.”
“Oh, okay,” Jessie said, nodding and heading out of the office. With any luck, by the time she left Bill, she’d have some answers.
16
Jessie had a cup of water in her hand when she walked into the room where Bill sat. While she hadn’t been a detective for a long time now, she had interrogated more than a few people in her life. Being an assistant district attorney involved a lot of different skills. None of those were more important than knowing what questions to ask and how to ask them.
As it turned out, questions were more than about the sort of words you used. In all honesty, the context of a question was far less important than how you made someone feel when you asked it. As an assistant district attorney, Jessie was more often than not confronted with the worst that civilization had to offer. Drug pushers, murderers, and rapists, to name a few. Jessie stared them all down and did her job excellently.
She wasn’t afraid of people, even when they had done fearful things. She stood on the side of what was right. She fought for justice and truth. She held a light up against the darkness of the world, and that made her strong.
Tonight, however, Jessie didn’t feel strong. There was something about this case, about diving back into the darkness moment of her life, that made her feel like a child again. As she caught sight of Bill drumming his fingers across a cherrywood table, it was as though all those years and accomplishments had never happened. She was once again a child, and so was he. He was the kid she was charged with babysitting, the boy she was supposed to keep safe. She had failed him, just like she had failed her brother, just like she would fail Fallon and her family.
“Are you okay?” Jessie asked, clearing her throat, shaking her head, and doing her best to beat the horrible thoughts deep down into the back of her mind. “I mean, I know the doctors checked you out and they said you were fine. I just meant, are you feeling okay?”
“Been better,” Bill admitted, smiling despite himself and looking down at the table. “To be honest with you, I feel kinda stupid.”
She walked to the table, sitting across from Bill and sliding the water to him. In the past, when Jessie was questioning someone she was considering as a potential witness, she’d bring water, soda, or something else to get them to open up. Bringing gifts, even small ones, were more useful than you’d think in making people trust you or, at the very least, distrust you less.
That wasn’t what was going on here, of course. She didn’t need Bill Yearman to trust her. They grew up together. More than that, they were on the same side of this. He was a cop, too. He’d be more than happy to share whatever information he could to get to the bottom of all of this.
“Bill, don’t be hard on yourself,” Jessie said. “None of us really know what we’re dealing with here, which is why I’m here to talk to you. I know you gave a statement, and I know you say that you don’t really know anything about who put you in the Walker house or how you got there, but I need you to dig deep. It’s very important that you tell everything you can remember about tonight.”
Bill smiled widely as a warmth passed over his face. “Did I ever tell you that you made the nightmares stop?” he asked, looking back down at the table.
“I’m sorry? I did what?” Jessie asked, her eyes narrowing.
“When I was a kid, maybe six or seven, I used to have the same couple of nightmares all the time. One was about an owl that wouldn’t stop chasing me. Another was about being trapped inside a really small, dark room. It got so bad that I couldn’t sleep by myself anymore. I used to hate when my parents would go anywhere because it meant that I couldn’t convince my mom to let me sleep with them. I told you about it one night, about how afraid I was and stuff. You just looked at me, and in the same voice you’re using right now, you said, ‘There’s nothing to be afraid of, Billy.’ And just like that, they stopped. I never had them again. I don’t know what it is about you, about your voice. You just make me believe things.”
Jessie looked at the man for a long moment after that, seeing not only the officer sitting in front of her but the scared boy he used to be. She didn’t remember that conversation, telling Bill that everything was going to be all right. She would remember this one, though.
“I’m glad,” she said, reaching across the table, grabbing his hand, and squeezing it. “I’m glad I could be that person for you when you needed it. I’m also glad you seem to believe me. So you can believe me when I say that I will catch this person, and when I do, they’re going to wish they were never born. Now, tell me what happened tonight.”
Bill took a deep breath. “It’s like I said in the report. I went out for a drink at that beachside bar, the Golden Coconut.”
“Such a tacky name,” Jessie said reflexively, shaking her head.
“Yeah, but they have two for one specials on Thursdays, and you gotta save money where you can these days,” Bill said. “Anyway, it was really crowded. I guess because of the specials, but the place was jam-packed. I started talking to these tourists, a nice couple and their cute friend from up in Kentucky. She said I had a boyish smile.” He flashed the aforementioned grin. “I thought things were going well, you know? I thought maybe she liked me. Anyway, I must have been wrong, though, because when I came back from the bathroom, they were all gone. I was bummed. So, I decided to finish my drink and leave. But deciding that was the last thing I remember before you standing in front of me in that burning house. I have no idea how I got there or why I can’t remember.”
