Dirty Devil Read online

  “Doc, have I ever told you how you’re my favorite person?” he asked.

  “Really,” I said, smiling. “And it’s got nothing to do with the fact I’m hauling around a bunch of donuts.”

  “Those are donuts in those bags? No way,” he said, looking shocked. “I thought maybe you’d gotten some new perfume or something. You’ve got stray dogs, and a couple of weird-looking dudes, that have been walking behind you for a while.

  “Very funny,” I said, taking one box out of a bag, and then passing the bags over to him. “Make sure you share those. And don’t eat too many or you’ll get a pooch over your duty belt.”

  “I’ve still got metabolism on my side,” he said. “I’ve got a few years before I have to worry about a pooch. I figure that’s when I’ll know it’s time to get married.”

  “Lucky girl,” I said. “I’ve got to head out.”

  “Thanks for the donuts, Doc,” he said. “See you at the party tonight.”

  I groaned and shook my head, and then made my way back to the Suburban. I got in and inhaled. I smelled delicious. No wonder stray dogs were following me.

  It took me twenty minutes to get through traffic and past roadblocks and to the funeral home, and by the time I’d parked under the portico and walked into the kitchen, I’d sniffed myself so much I had a sugar high.

  Everyone was gathered in the kitchen since we technically hadn’t opened for business yet. Lily and Sheldon were sitting at the island drinking coffee, and Emmy Lu was frying eggs and telling a story about how her youngest put firecrackers under her bed when he was little and snuck in to light them when she was sleeping.

  “It scared the daylights out of me. I couldn’t hear, see, or think, and then the mattress caught on fire. Let’s just say my youngest has more of his daddy in him than I’d like, but by the time I got through with him he couldn’t sit for a week.”

  “I’m never having kids,” Lily said.

  “Oh, sugar,” Emmy Lu said. “They’re not all like that. It’s mostly a lot of good times with the occasional splash of pure terror to keep things lively. You might change your mind one day.”

  “I don’t think so,” Lily said. “I enjoy my body, and I don’t enjoy screaming babies or dirty diapers. What about you, Dr. Graves? Do you want kids?”

  “Someday,” I said, putting the box of donuts on the table.

  “These aren’t Lady Jane’s,” Sheldon said, eyeing the box like I’d plopped a litter box in the middle of the table.

  “No, they’re from the Donut Palace. We support all small businesses in this town. There’s room for everyone.”

  “Except for the Gazette,” Emmy Lu said. “I stopped my subscription to their paper when they got so nasty.”

  “And I don’t shop at the Five and Dime anymore because I feel like it’s false advertising,” Sheldon said. “So I don’t support them.”

  “I won’t go to that new Italian place that bought that old house on Rosehill. The food was all right, but those guys are New York Italian. They’d scream at you if you didn’t order fast enough, and one lady had so much anxiety she ran out crying.”

  “Good to know,” I said, thinking I’d been wanting to try that place. “Oh, Emmy Lu. Tom Daly was thinking about starting a subscription delivery service for the businesses in town. I told him you might be able to help him get set up with the organizational side of things.”

  “Tom Daly,” she said, her cheeks going pink. “He’s a sweet fella. Always polite. And truth be told, I prefer his donuts to Lady Jane’s. She’s a little high handed with the sugar if you ask me.”

  “Good,” I said. “He said just to stop by anytime. Do we have all the viewings and funerals scheduled for this week?”

  “I just finished putting everything into the calendar and sending it to you,” Emmy Lu said. “We haven’t gotten any more calls from the hospital or other families, so I’m assuming the other four victims went somewhere else. Mrs. Lassiter asked for the viewing to be Wednesday night and the funeral on Thursday. That’ll be enough time for an announcement to go in the paper for anyone who wants to attend, but she’s in pretty rough shape and she didn’t want it to drag out all week.

  “Then we’ve got Lucy Randolph with a viewing Thursday night and the funeral on Friday. Stanley Turkus was sent off for cremation, so we’ll just have the memorial service for him Friday evening. And then there’s Kathleen Woodson. Her husband asked that we leave her in a viewing room all week so people can come and pay their respects, and then we’ll do a marathon memorial service on Saturday and the funeral on Sunday afternoon. He wanted there to be plenty of time for their out-of-town friends and family to come in. He also bought the most expensive coffin and our premium package funeral service.”

  “Good,” I said. “You’ll all get paid this week. Anything else?”

  “Don’t forget we close at four today for the block party tonight,” she said.

  “Can’t wait,” Sheldon said. “I’m going as Howie from The Big Bang Theory. My mom found me an orange turtleneck and she sewed me this awesome NASA jacket. It looks just like the real ones.”

  “My boyfriend and I decided to go vintage,” Lily said.

  “Like Lucy and Desi?”

  “Who’s that?” she asked.

  “Never mind.” I took a donut out of the box and took a bite.

  “I’m going as Monica Lewinsky,” she said.

  “And your boyfriend is going as Bill Clinton?” Emmy Lu asked.

  “No, he’s going as the cigar.”

  I choked on my donut, and that’s when Jack came in.

  “Must’ve been a good joke,” he said. “Sorry I missed it.”

  I went to the fridge and got a bottle of water and drank half of it in one swallow. “What’s up?” I asked.

  “You should be good to release John Donnelly’s body to his family,” he said. “I don’t think there’s anything new we’re going to learn from it.”

  “I can give next of kin a call if you’d like,” Lily said.

  “Call Michael Donnelly,” I said, digging in my bag for his card with his number on it. “That’s his son.”

  “Do you think they’ll do the funeral here?”

  “Doubtful,” I said. “Donnelly’s practice was in King George Proper, and most of his associates and friends live in that area. They’ll probably use the Here and Now.”

  Lily made a face. “John Luke has a heavy hand with makeup. And I heard a rumor he doesn’t dress his deceased in underpants after he does the embalming. I bet he has a big drawer of stolen underpants.”

  “I went to school with a girl who stole people’s underpants,” Sheldon broke in. “She’d sneak in the boys’ locker room, steal them, and then she’d run them right up the flagpole.”

  Lily patted Sheldon on the back as they walked out of the room and I heard her ask. “Did she do that to everyone’s underpants or just yours?”

  “On that pleasant note,” Emmy Lu said. “I’m going to head back to my desk. We’ll get everyone laid out in the viewing rooms this morning and make sure everything is all set.”

  “Thanks, Emmy Lu,” I said and then I looked at Jack. “What’s up? I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon. Or do you want to give my office shower a go?”

  “Not unless you’re trying to paralyze me,” he said. “You didn’t happen to take out another insurance policy on me, did you?”

  “Hey, if you can’t hang just let me know.”

  Jack’s eye narrowed. “If I didn’t have something important to tell you I’d show you exactly how much I can hang.”

  “Promises, promises,” I said.

  “You’re a handful,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  “It wasn’t a compliment.”

  “Of course it was,” I told him. “Otherwise you’d be bored to tears. Now, what’s up?”

  “The data Magnolia was compiling came through not long after you left. It didn’t take long to start putting things togeth
er. Check this out,” he said, taking two stacks of paper out of his bag. “First we’ve got the bulk orders of fencing wire and natural-fiber rope. Then we’ve got Donnelly’s case files. Guess whose name shows up in Donnelly’s files as a plaintiff in a class action lawsuit against Carson Pritchett and Steven Carlisle, and whose name also shows up on a credit card receipt for a bulk order of fencing wire and rope?”

  “I have no idea,” I said. “Who?”

  He flipped through each stack until I saw a name circled in red on each one. “Magnolia saved us a lot of time on this one with the fencing order. But Carver and I started going through the case files this morning after you left and this case was within the right time frame.”

  “Wow,” I said, staring at the name. “I can’t believe it. What do you want to do?”

  “I think we need to take another trip out to the crime scene,” he said.

  14

  I didn’t know how I felt about the news Jack had just delivered. Relieved to know who was responsible, certainly. But I also found I had a great deal of remorse. It was a sad situation all around, but the truth was four people were dead, and someone needed to pay for those crimes, no matter the reasoning behind them.

  I noticed there was still crime scene tape roping off the area where John Donnelly’s body had been found, and the scarecrow pole was back in the hole, but it looked like a plain metal cross without a body on it.

  Jack parked in the middle of the one-way road, and then he bent down to check his backup weapon in his ankle holster. It was the only thing that saved his life. A shot rang out and shattered the front windshield of the Tahoe and buried itself in the headrest of Jack’s seat.

  I ducked down in my seat automatically, but I didn’t know how much good it did if the shooter was at an elevation where he could see inside the car. I didn’t have to think much more about it, because Jack threw open his door, grabbed me by the shirt, and pulled me across the seat and onto the ground so we were hidden behind the Tahoe.

  “Backup is not too far behind us,” he said. “We were waiting on a warrant to search the property, but Cole has it in hand.” Jack took out his weapon and checked the magazine. “Stay down low,” he told me. He crept up slowly and reached an arm into the Tahoe for his radio so he could call dispatch and another shot rang out.

  “Oh, God,” I said, tugging at the back of his shirt. “Just wait for backup.”

  “I was calling for backup,” he said. “I don’t want them driving into live fire.” He moved quickly and grabbed the radio before crouching down beside me again and called it in to dispatch. “Shots fired,” Jack said, and then he gave the address. “Alert Cole and any other officers heading out to the Cotton farm. He’s armed and dangerous.”

  “10-4,” dispatch said back. “Keep the line open.”

  “Donald Cotton,” Jack yelled. “You’re only making things worse.”

  “Not from where I’m standing,” Cotton yelled back. “You don’t understand.”

  “Sure I do,” Jack said. “I read your wife’s medical file. She gets hit by a car in a freak accident and breaks her leg bad in a couple of places. Dr. Carlisle decides she needs a bone graft. Only he’s working with Carson Pritchett, who has a history of black market medical practices, but they’re both making a fortune, so Carlisle didn’t really care where the donors came from. But this was Pritchett’s first time with organ donation, and he didn’t realize one of the patients he’d harvested from had an aggressive form of cancer. So when he did the bone graft on your wife, Amy, he basically sentenced her to death. He did the same thing to seven other people.”

  “Then you know they all got what they deserved,” Cotton said.

  “You can’t take matters into your own hands,” Jack said. “That doesn’t make you any better than the people who killed your wife.”

  “It sure as hell makes me feel better,” he said.

  Jack was scooting forward toward the front of the Tahoe. “I think he’s on the roof of his house,” Jack whispered.

  “What about Dana Martin?” Jack called out. “She had two little kids who no longer have a mother.”

  “She should have thought about that before she lied to cover for Carlisle. They were sleeping together, you know. And when it came time for the trial she got on the stand and swore that they had no knowledge of where the donors came from, even though there was evidence that Pritchett and Carlisle had both deposited hefty payments into hidden accounts. But just like smoke, all that information disappeared when John Donnelly took the case so those bastards would walk free. You think justice in this country is for everyone? That’s naïve. Because men like John Donnelly don’t believe in justice. They believe in money. And every one of those people killed, and then they lied and smirked their way through that farce of a trial. And I and the other families who’d lost their loved ones were left with nothing but attorney fees. Where’s the justice in that?”

  “None of those other families decided to become killers,” Jack said. I could hear the sirens screaming down the county road, and then they turned and were headed toward us and I breathed out a sigh of relief. It would all be over soon.

  “I did what I had to do,” Cotton said. “I have no regrets. They all betrayed their oath to their professions. Their lives became forfeit the second the last handful of dirt was thrown onto Amy’s coffin.”

  “Come down, Donald,” Jack said. “Believe it or not, I do understand why you did what you did. It was wrong. But I understand it. Come down and talk to me. We can get you help.”

  “I don’t need help,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d suspect me if the body was found on my own property.”

  “We didn’t,” Jack said. “That was very clever.”

  “But I knew you’d figured it out when I saw you coming today. I realized all you’d have to do is look through Donnelly’s files to find my name.”

  “We found the letter you sent him six years ago,” Jack said. “With the Bible verse.”

  “I was going to be a preacher,” he said. “Did you know that? Before I bought the farm. It seemed like poetic justice. An eye for an eye, right?”

  “How about thou shall not murder?” Jack asked.

  “There’s a fine line between righteous justice and murder in my book. Just look at the death penalty.”

  “How about if I come to you,” Jack said. “We can talk for as long as you want.”

  “No,” I hissed. “Are you crazy?”

  Jack held up a finger to shush me, and I bit my tongue. But boy, did I have a lot I was going to say to him when this was over.

  “I’m coming out,” Jack said. “If you shoot, things are not going to end the way you want them to.”

  “Sorry, Sheriff,” Cotton said. “But things are ending exactly the way I want them to.”

  “No,” Jack said just as a shot rang out, and he crawled low until he could see, and then he stood to his feet and started running.

  I was right behind him, but Cotton’s lifeless body rolled from the roof and hit with a thud on the ground. There was nothing any of us could do, and I thanked God there was only one casualty to speak of. Things could’ve been much worse.

  My breath heaved and my hands shook as I reached for Jack. Other officers had come running behind us and they were checking Cotton’s pulse, but I just had to hold on for a second. I kept replaying the first shot coming through the car window, and it had only been luck that had kept Jack from getting hit. In the blink of an eye…that’s all it took for a life to end.

  “Please don’t ever volunteer to sacrifice yourself to a murderer again,” I said, squeezing him tight. “Because I can promise you I’ll be the one threatening your life next time.”

  Jack chuckled and buried his face in the side of my neck and breathed in. “Why do you smell like donuts?”

  “Because I eat so much of them it’s what I secrete,” I said sarcastically. “You’re bleeding.” I moved his head to see where the blood was coming from.


  “Just glass,” he said. “I just need a Band-Aid.”

  “If I give you a Band-Aid do we still have to go to the Halloween party tonight? We could stay in and work off the adrenaline instead.”

  “Nice try,” he said. “But don’t forget we’ve got an election in a couple of weeks. We need to see and be seen. But if you come to the party tonight, I promise I’ll take the day off tomorrow and we can stay in bed all day.”

  “Deal,” I said. “But maybe tell Carver and Doug to go home. I don’t want to stay in bed all day. You do your best work in the kitchen.”

  Jack threw his head back and laughed. Everything was going to be okay.

  Epilogue

  Jack had been right, as usual. Going to the Halloween block party on the square hadn’t killed me. He’d also been right about the costume. Chen had bought me a horse’s head that had eyes that looked like it belonged to a meth-head and a pair of brown leggings and a matching oversized sweatshirt. I’d hardly had to talk to anyone while I was wearing the head, but it seemed to freak little kids out and it was hot in there, so I eventually took it off, made small talk, and drank free beer. All in all, it was a great night.

  The morning was already off to a good start. Carver and Doug had packed their bags and headed out bright and early, and as promised, Jack had taken the day off and was in the shower. I’d told Emmy Lu to call me if I was needed, but there was nothing on the schedule today they couldn’t handle. It was just the two of us for a solid twenty-four hours. And I had plans. Big plans.

  I figured the best way to stop secreting donuts was to lower my intake, so I made some toast while I was waiting on the coffee. And then I decided toast probably wasn’t going to cut it, so I got out the frying pan and decided to try my hand at French toast again. I wanted to make sure Jack had plenty of energy.

  My phone buzzed, and I checked it, only to see a blocked number, so I sent it straight to voicemail. I’d barely taken a step away when the phone buzzed again, and this time a number showed but it was one I didn’t recognize. I frowned and sent the call to voicemail again. In Jack’s line of work and the media coverage we’d gotten over the last year, I didn’t give my cell number out to just anyone.