In the Shadow of Evil Book 2 Page 3

  “No.” Jennie shrugged his arm from her shoulder. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

  Jared moved toward her.

  “Please let me go,” she whispered. Her eyes filled with tears and she choked down humiliation as she backed further away from both men.

  Without another word, she raced down the stairs.

  Doria stood quietly during the exchange. “I’ll see that she makes it to her car, Jared.” He nodded, then he turned his attention to his brother.

  “Are you a complete ass?” Jared’s arms stiffened at his side. He wanted nothing more than to jab a fist into his twin’s face.

  “No, bro, but you sure the hell are.”

  They moved within inches of each other, eyes narrowed, bodies tense. The room was dead quiet as several members of their team stood by, prepared to pull them off each other.

  Jared broke the silence. “You’re wrong about Jennie. She’s not one of Mendoza’s moles.”

  A low grumble came from Noah’s throat. “I have nightmares too, damn it, and Jennie is right in the middle of all of them. The next time you go against Mendoza to protect her, none of us will survive it.”

  Three

  Fells Point, Baltimore

  * * *

  Louise Cunningham yanked the long, thin tube across the living room behind her from the ever-present oxygen concentrator and dropped gently into the chair by her window. She had made herself a cup of coffee, but her body acted as if she’d walked five miles. She reached over to the nebulizer that sat on the small end table next to her chair, switched it to the on position, and placed the tube-like mouthpiece between her lips. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her breathing while she inhaled the medication her lungs required. With her chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD) in its final stage, living on oxygen twenty-four hours a day was her life. And she spent much of her time in her favorite chair, gazing out over the Fells Point neighborhood.

  The three-story brownstone had been Louise’s home for sixty-five years. Her doctors wanted her to move into an acute care facility, but she kindly suggested they go fly a kite. Louise still had things to do.

  A negative energy surrounded her beloved neighborhood. Everyone was on edge, especially Jennie. Her boarder had been tightly wound since the drive-by shooting of Quinton Torres eighteen months ago. How could anyone get over watching a ten-year-old boy bleed out on the sidewalk?

  “How’s it going, Mrs. C.?” Danny Merlot’s face poked up against the window screen. “Is Ms. McKenzie home?”

  Louise removed the mouthpiece, holding it to her chest. “Danny, you almost gave me a heart attack. Don’t sneak up on old people like that.”

  “Sorry, I thought you saw me. So, is Ms. McKenzie home or not?”

  Louise studied the pre-teen. “Those pants were designed to wear at the waist. If they were any lower, you would be tripping on them.”

  Danny yanked up his Solos pants. “Ah, Mrs. C., that’s how we wear them now.”

  “And you better not let Jennie see you with that cap, young man.” Louise pointed to the worn-out baseball cap popular with the largest gang in the city. Danny yanked it off his head like he forgot he had it on and stuffed it into his back pocket.

  “Jennie isn’t home yet. Can I help you with something?”

  Danny’s scanned the street while his fingers nervously tapped the windowsill. “There’s something I wanted to talk to her about. It can wait. Thanks.” Without waiting for a reply, he walked away from the window and sauntered down the sidewalk.

  As Louise watched Danny’s abrupt departure, Jennie pulled into the parking space in front of the brownstone. Something had happened. Louise could tell Jennie had been crying. Placing the mouthpiece back on the nebulizer, she stood and made her way to her front door. If she wasn’t standing in the foyer when Jennie came in, Jennie would run upstairs, and Louise would never find out what had her so upset.

  Jennie slammed the car door and hurried to the front of the brownstone. She had been driving around for more than an hour, afraid to come home. What if Noah sent a patrol car after her? What would Louise and her neighbors think if the police dragged her off in handcuffs?

  She ran up the front steps, opened the outside door to the brownstone, and let herself into the cool foyer. This was her home, her sanctuary.

  The stairs in front of her led to her apartment on the second floor. The double oak doors to her right were open, and Mrs. Cunningham was standing in the doorway. Forcing a smile, Jennie approached her friend.

  “How are you doing today, Louise? I need to run upstairs for a moment, but I’ll be down to fix us something for dinner. How does tilapia sound?”

  “I could tell before you even got out of the car that something is wrong.”

  “Things just didn’t go as smoothly today as I had hoped,” she said as she followed her friend into her apartment.

  Louise dropped down on the sofa and patted the space next to her. “So, who made you cry? If it was that Jared, I swear I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.”

  “I only saw Jared for a moment, but I had a run-in with his obnoxious brother, Noah.” She looked down at her lap. “I kind of hit him in the middle of a squad room, made his nose bleed.”

  “You hit a police officer? I have never seen you lose your temper.”

  Jennie shrugged. “You have never seen me with Noah McNeil. He brings out the worst in me.”

  “In that case, you need to stay away from him. If he can’t see the kind of person you are, it’s his loss.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “What did he say to make you slug him?”

  “It’s not really what he said, but what he implied.” Jennie took one of the sofa pillows and wrapped her arms around it, hugging it close.

  “Which was?”

  “That’s a long, complicated story.”

  “Am I going anywhere?” Louise asked, pointing to the tubing in her nose.

  Jennie shifted her position on the sofa to stare out the window. The only person in her life who shared her secrets was her godfather, Father Michael Sweeney.

  Louise reached for Jennie’s hand. “If you felt you had to strike that man, I’m sure he deserved it.”

  “I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “Start wherever you feel most comfortable.”

  “It could change your opinion of me.”

  “That’s not possible.”

  Just tell her. Jennie took a deep cleansing breath and stood. “I’ll be right back.”

  A few minutes later, she returned with a thick brown case folder and sat down on the coffee table in front of Louise. Rubbing her hand over the folder, she said, “A few months ago, I asked one of my student’s parents who is a detective with the BPD for this file.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s the police report on my father. I had so many questions about the day he died.” She opened the file, removed a picture of a young man in a police uniform, and handed it to Louise. “That’s him, my dad.”

  “He was a very handsome man. You have his eyes.”

  “Right after he made detective, he got involved in this case that took all of his time. I never understood what really happened to him until I received this report.”

  “Sometimes it is better to leave well enough alone.”

  “Maybe I should have.” She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. “I now know how my parents really died.”

  “I thought your parents died in a car accident when you were ten.”

  “They died on the same day. It was just easier to let everyone believe that’s what happened.”

  Jennie took a moment and studied her friend. Louise’s cheeks seemed more swollen and flushed than usual. It was the strain in her eyes that bothered Jennie the most. “You don’t need to hear all of this. I should start dinner. You must be starving.”

  “Jennie McKenzie, don’t you dare start treating me like a weak old bird who can’t deal
with a little upheaval. I get enough of that from those well-meaning women who prance in and out of here from St. Luke’s. You need to talk, and I’ll be fine,” she said breathlessly.

  Jennie flipped through the folder and dug out a newspaper clipping of a group of politicians. They were posing in front of a building that was scheduled to be demolished and replaced by a large sports complex. A man stood in the back row, his face circled several times in red ink.

  “Who is that man, Jennie?”

  “Elías Mendoza... pure evil. And he lives here,” she said, pointing to her heart, “since the day my parents died.”

  Unable to sit any longer, Jennie paced the room, pressing her fisted hand to her heart. “It hurts all the time. He watches me, touches every part of my life, and destroys anybody I love. He strikes without remorse, leaving nothing but fear and sorrow behind.”

  “How did your father know this man?”

  “Dad witnessed Mendoza’s father, Arturo, brutally murder a businessman in an alley off Franklin Street in D.C. After Dad arrested Arturo and processed him, he had a heart attack and died while in the holding cell. Within the hour, Elías Mendoza had my father picked up two blocks from our home. He then arranged my mom’s car accident to coincide with the death of my father, within minutes of each other. The only mistake he made was that I didn’t die. I woke up in the hospital and he was sitting at my bedside…or I dreamed he was there.”

  Louise reached for her hand. “Jennie, it’s in the past.”

  “You know when you have a nightmare, and your heart beats so hard against your ribs, you think everyone must be able to hear it? That’s how I felt in his presence . . . how I still feel in his presence.” Jennie gently pulled her hand out of Louise’s grip and wrapped her arms around herself. “I remember lying very still with my eyes shut tight. He reached over, touched my hand, and spoke to me in Spanish, ‘Usted vive porque yo lo permito. You live because I allow it.’ He stood and walked out of the room.”

  Jennie’s voice dropped to a whisper. “For the next six years, he was a dream, a nightmare. Then I met him, but I was too naïve to connect him to my father.”

  “Did he come for you?”

  “Apparently, he kept track of me since the day my parents died. But when I was sixteen, I made stupid, selfish mistakes.” She looked up at her friend. “My choices have caused so much pain for the people I care about.”

  “You don’t have a selfish bone in your body.” Louise ran a hand down the back of Jennie’s head. She was silent for a moment, then said, “Tell me how you met Mendoza.”

  For the next several minutes, Jennie re-lived the four months she lived under his roof, meeting Jared, and finally describing Nick’s death.

  “Why would Mendoza keep you and your brother? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “At the time, I couldn’t figure out why Mendoza was so nice to us. It’s not in his nature to do something for someone else unless he can gain from it. We saved his life, but that’s something he expects from the world. I’m sure the men sitting with him that day are fish food.”

  Jennie’s nails dug into her palm. “We were in that house because of me. All of this, Nick’s death, the drive-by shooting of Quinton Torres, is about me, and Mendoza is at the root.”

  “When was the last time you had any contact with him?”

  “I haven’t seen Mendoza since the day Nick died. But I feel him all the time. It’s spine-chilling. I can’t see him, but he’s watching me.” She faced her friend. “I sense Jared, too, but that’s different. I have trusted Jared since the day we met, and I can’t explain why. But Jared would die to keep me safe.”

  “You listen to your gut.” Louise wrapped Jennie in her arms. “How I wish I could take this pain from you. No daughter should witness such horrific things about her own parents.”

  “Mendoza is responsible for Quinton’s death. He was there. The police, they listen, and then do nothing because I can’t give them anything to go on.” She rested her head on her friend’s shoulder. “He’s coming back for me. It’s going to be just like eight years ago. I have to stop him.”

  A large pizza box and paper plates covered the coffee table. For the last hour, there had been little conversation between the two women. The only sound in the room was the constant hum of Louise’s oxygen concentrator. A light, cold rain fell steadily outside, the gloomy picture matching the mood inside. Wrapping her arms around herself, Jennie rested her head against the cold window glass and wondered if Jared had found the check.

  “Please sit down, Jennie.” Louise’s voice was gentle but firm.

  Turning to face her friend, Jennie said, “Can I get you anything?”

  “Just sit next to me, dear.”

  “It’s getting late…”

  “I have not gone to bed at eight o’clock since I was five, maybe not even then.” Louise repositioned the nasal cannula in her nose. “You can’t go after this man on your own.”

  Not wanting to lie to her best friend, Jennie said nothing.

  “There is no way on God’s green earth you can face him with only the self-defense classes you have taken.”

  Louise’s last words made her gasp for air.

  “I never should have said anything. Look what I have done.” Jennie squeezed a capsule of medication into the nebulizer’s cup, switched the machine to the start position, and handed the mouthpiece to Louise. “Don’t talk. Just breathe.”

  Louise took in a couple of breaths, inhaling the mist, but then yanked the mouthpiece free, the medication evaporating into the air.

  “Stay away from that man.” Each word came out in a short, raspy breath. “Promise me.”

  “Mendoza controlled the drug trade in Baltimore several years ago, but he had moved on to richer waters. He’s back. Once I prove that…”

  “I’ll call Father Anthony up at St. Luke’s. He can get in touch with your Jared. I’ll tell him what you are up to. I can’t lose you to that maniac.”

  “You can never call Jared. I’m to blame for what happened to him in Mexico. It’s why his brother hates me so much.” Jennie repositioned the mouthpiece, switched on the machine, and slipped the elastic band around her friend’s head. “I’ll tell you, but only if you keep the mouthpiece in place.”

  “Fine, but no sugar coating it. Just tell me like it is.”

  “Three years ago, Jared went undercover and infiltrated Mendoza’s organization.”

  “But Mendoza knows Jared’s a cop.”

  “He changed his appearance and used his contacts to ensure he held a minion position, to keep an eye on Mendoza. But the bastard pegged him the instant he entered the country, playing a cat and mouse game with him for weeks. He then… Jared was held in this dark hole… tortured just like my father.” Jennie clutched her father’s photo to her chest. “And I witnessed it, every detail.”

  “How?”

  “Dream… vision… I can’t explain what happened that night. But it was real. I called Noah and told him everything I saw.” Jennie raised her chin and met her friend’s stare. “Noah hates me, and he’s not alone in that. Every time I close my eyes, I see the reverse cross that bastard carved into Jared’s chest—exactly like the one in my father’s chest. The image never fades, never goes away.”

  Louise pulled Jennie into her arms. “What happened to your parents and your friend are Mendoza’s sins, not yours. You could still ask Jared for help.”

  “I can’t bring Mendoza back into Jared’s life. That’s one promise I’ll never break,” she whispered.

  “Then there has to be someone else you can tell. Mendoza is just a man, Jennie. You make him sound like he has superpowers.”

  “Please, Louise, finish the treatment.”

  Jennie lifted the nebulizer’s mouthpiece from Louise’s lap.

  “Fine, but talk to me,” Louise said, inhaling the mist into her inflamed lungs.

  “It’s the evil in him. It gives him power, which feeds his obsession for me. He doesn’t care
for or even like me. But no one is allowed to get close. Nick idolized him. Mendoza despised Nick because I loved him. I have this inexplicable channel into Mendoza’s thoughts. What if that channel is two-way and Mendoza tortured Jared because he felt the connection Jared and I share?”

  How could she explain to this marvelous woman that it was her fault Mendoza wasn’t rotting in hell? Before she could stop them, the words came tumbling out. She picked up the police folder. “This file connected all the dots I’ve been missing for years. I’ve been so blind, so stupid to miss the feelings I have.”

  Louise removed the mouthpiece and asked, “What feelings?”

  “That creepy chill in my spine when the faceless man sat on my hospital bed—the same feeling I had when I saved Mendoza from choking. Same feeling, same man.” She forced herself to face Louise. “Where is my sin in all this? I saved the life of the man who brutally murdered my parents.”

  Four

  Fells Point, Baltimore

  Three hours later

  * * *

  I don’t like this. God, I don’t like this at all.

  Jennie tried to tighten the harness around her waist, but her hands trembled. Repelling over the roof didn’t frighten her. The building across the street did.

  She rubbed her boot over the icy slush covering the surface of the rooftop, then leaned over the edge to check for any ice developing on the side of the building. Water pooled near the edge, but so far, temperatures remained warm enough to keep them from freezing completely.

  “Okay, only rain, a little slush, no ice,” she whispered. There were at least eight hours of battery left to power the older-than-dirt camera she had hooked beneath the eaves. She looked up at the thick snow clouds covering the moon. The burned-out streetlight on the next block added to her cover.

  Tomorrow night was a full moon. She would have no chance of repelling undetected. The weather may not be ideal, but she had to change the batteries tonight or risk missing data.