Heather Graham - The Evil Inside

Knocking the figure down, she rolled herself off him to get away.

But the horned god was back up, staggering, reaching for his head.

Sam took advantage, letting out a loud roar as he raced for the figure. Crashing into him, he took the demon back down, sending the ax flying to the side, cracking the man’s head against a tombstone and falling in front of it. Sam stood quickly, crying out. “Jenna!”

“I’m here, I’m fine,” she said, hurrying to his side.

The horned god was still down, unconscious. Sam bent down and stripped the mask off his head. They both stared down in puzzlement. It was a man, a grown man. And it was someone Sam had never seen before.

“Do you know him?” he asked Jenna.

“No!”

By then, they could hear the police sirens. They stood a few feet from the man, waiting. Sam wasn’t surprised to see that John Alden was leading the pack of officers who came rushing into the cemetery. If John had heard the word about a situation in the cemetery from the dispatch office, he would have been the first on the scene.

“I should have suspected you two!” he said, walking up, pulling out his phone and telling the paramedics to move in. He bent down by the body, feeling for a pulse. “Still breathing. Wait, I did suspect you two. What the hell…?”

“Hey, I was just walking in the cemetery, and he came after me. With that ax!” Jenna said, pointing.

“And he meant business. I saw it,” Sam said.

“And-?”

“And I tackled him, right after Jenna rushed him, and if she hadn’t known something about defense, she’d be bleeding to death right now!” Sam said angrily.

“All right, all right,” John said, feeling in the man’s pocket for a wallet or ID. “Nothing, of course,” he said with disgust. “Let the paramedics through!” he called to his men. “We’ve got a live one here-and we need him alive!”

He looked at Sam and Jenna and sighed. “All right. Your attacker is out cold. Let the doctors do what they can for him. They’ll call me as soon as he can be questioned. You know the drill-it’s time for the paperwork.”

Before they left the cemetery, Sam called Jackson, to let the others know what was happening and that Jenna was all right. Jackson said that they’d head to Jamie’s and wait for them there.

The paperwork was tedious but didn’t take as long as it might have. The horned god ax-wielder in the cemetery hadn’t come to. Apparently the shot to his head was quite severe, and the man was in a coma. His prints, though, were taken at the hospital and run through the police system, so before they left, John Alden came and reported to Sam.

“His name is Gary Stillman. Does that mean anything to you?” he asked them both.

They shook their heads.

“He’s in the system for misdemeanors in Boston. Seems he has a crack habit, too. That’s expensive. But he wasn’t really out to rob you, was he?” John asked Jenna.

“Nope. Definitely there to kill,” she said flatly.

John scratched his head. “I don’t know what the hell is going on here. He didn’t kill the Smith family, that’s for sure. He was being held in Boston on drug charges the night that the Smiths were killed.”

“Gun for hire. We need to track a money trail on him,” Sam said.

“I told you, he wasn’t the Smith family killer. He was being held on drug charges,” John said.

“Yeah, and you’re hedging. Come on, John. Like you said, crack is an expensive habit. He was hired to kill Jenna. And you really know, somewhere inside, that no accident killed Milton Sedge. There’s a killer loose here, because you’ve got the wrong suspect behind bars.”

John stared at him. “Don’t you dare tell me I don’t know how to do my job, Sam!”

“I’m not!” Sam argued. “You were right to arrest Malachi-he was covered in blood. It’s my job to prove he didn’t do it.”

John waved a hand in the air. “Get out of here. Ever since you drove in, my life has been a nightmare!”

“I’ll see you at the school in the morning,” Sam said.

John gritted his teeth. “Yeah, yeah, first thing in the morning!”

An officer dropped them at Jamie’s house. Jamie hugged his niece fiercely, berating her for walking into danger.

Jenna hugged him fiercely in return.

“You’d have been in trouble if Sam hadn’t happened upon you!” Jamie told her.

Angela and Jackson kept discreetly silent.

Sam found that he had to step up to the plate. “Actually, Jenna does know what she’s doing, Jamie. She was holding her own.”

Jamie looked disgruntled. Jenna shot Sam a glance that held a speculative, wry smile.

“Uncle Jamie, I’m not quitting my job.”

“Well, you all need to stop-this is getting too dangerous!” he protested.

“Uncle Jamie,” Jenna said quietly, “ living is dangerous. I love what I do. It’s important. And more people might die if we don’t get to the bottom of this. It’s always better to face danger head-on when you have to fight it.”

Jamie opened and closed his mouth several times. “I’ll get the stew,” he said at last, then gruffly added, “You set the table for me, eh, lass?”

“I’ll help, too!” Angela said, jumping to her feet.

They compiled the information they had all garnered during the day. Sam listened gravely to Jenna as she explained what she was certain the crime-scene photos told her. “It wasn’t as if I could say, ‘Oh, the person who did was left-handed or right-handed’ or anything like that. But it appeared that the Andres murder was just something to be accomplished, while the Covington murder showed a greater violence, and the Smith family was-well, pure rage. And, yes, I know, escalating violence is often part of the profile of a serial killer, but, in this instance, I can’t help but think there are distinct two killers.”

She looked at Sam expectantly.

“I thought that myself today,” he told her.

They both looked at Jackson, who nodded.

“So, we think that Andy Yates and Samantha Yeager are having an affair-and that they’re making sure that they each have an alibi for murder?” Angela clarified, a statement more than a question.

“It is a theory,” Sam said.

“A good one,” Jenna said. “I know that Michael Newbury, Jr., believes that David Yates has been disappointed in his father, that he believes his father hasn’t stood up for him enough. What better way to prove your love than kill the family of and incarcerate the boy who supposedly gave David the evil eye?”

“Why the others?” Angela mused.

“Peter Andres-because he chastised David Yates,” Sam said.

“What about Earnest Covington?” Jamie asked. “What did he do to anyone?”

“In that instance, I believe that he was just there, collateral damage. He was in the community. The trail for finding out who had killed Peter Andres was growing cold. Bring it close to the Smith home-and have a son who will swear that he saw Malachi come out of the house-and you have a good fall guy. I think that the Earnest Covington murder was a setup, and when that didn’t work, the family had to go. And Earnest Covington was such an easy mark. He lived alone. He never locked his door,” Sam said.

“And the man in the graveyard tonight?” Jamie demanded.

Sam sighed. “Even John Alden will be looking for a trail on that. But,” he told Jackson, “you should get your computer whiz on it. I have a feeling that we’re not going to find out that any huge checks have been written. We need to look for alternate indications of money transfer.”

“Murder for hire is expensive,” Angela said.

Sam’s lips formed into a white line. “Expensive? That’s relative. Apparently, the guy from the cemetery was on crack. The kind that will make you do just about anything for money.”