Silent is the Grave Read online

  He checked the passageway again.

  The guy who had been cutting the fence glared at him through the chain link. On his knees, he had his fingers locked behind his head as a uniformed officer approached, cuffs in hand.

  They’d survived. With nothing worse than a non-fatal knife wound to prove it.

  Speaking of which, shouldn’t that be hurting?

  Must be the adrenaline dump, because he didn’t feel a thing.

  He knelt and gently touched his thigh.

  Still no pain. Could there be nerve damage?

  He pushed his fingers through the slice in his pant leg and touched the skin. Smooth.

  Impossible!

  He probed the areas all around. Still no evidence of any kind of puncture, cut, or gouge. But he’d felt it! Seen the blood. The cut in his pants was proof enough that it had happened.

  Looking up, he found Elly watching him.

  The pain had disappeared when she’d prayed. Could…?

  No. It wasn’t logical.

  Still. Something happened.

  “Hey Salinas! You down there, kid?”

  Morgan’s holler bounced between the buildings.

  After holding Elly’s gaze for a second longer, he stepped around the corner and waved. “We’re good.”

  Morgan grinned. “Can’t believe you went and had all this fun without me.”

  Right. See how much fun Morgan thought it was when he was the one pinned down in an alley with a knife wound to the thigh. Well, a sorta knife wound. Maybe. Or not.

  A throb pulsed inside his head.

  Man. He needed a drink.

  “Just get us outta here, man.”

  Morgan chuckled in reply. “Well, looks like these guys got about halfway through cutting the fence away. We’ll get some pictures taken then I’ll have our guys finish the job.”

  Couldn’t happen fast enough.

  He walked over to Monica.

  The stench of human waste almost made him gag.

  While he didn’t see anything, he’d guess those nearly dead bushes in the corner had been used regularly as an outhouse.

  Forcing his attention to Monica, he tried to speak normally. “You okay?”

  Wide eyes regarded him in silence, but she managed a small nod. Good enough.

  Retracing his steps, he knelt beside Elly. “Are you okay?”

  “I will be.” The words came out a hoarse whisper.

  How did he know she would say that? He grasped her arm. “Lemme help you up.”

  She rose. A gasp slid from her and her knees buckled. “Maybe I’ll just sit for a while.” Breathlessness lined the words.

  He eased her to the ground, maneuvering her so she could lean back against the building.

  Labored breathing, like she’d just run a marathon, hung between them. It lasted at least a minute before stabilizing. A hint of color returned to her cheeks.

  He crouched in front of her, his gaze locked on her face. “What happened?”

  With her head leaning against the wall and her hands resting limply in her lap, she looked so helpless. Yet there was something that told him she was anything but.

  A peaceful smile curled her lips. “You were healed.”

  Healed. Did that kind of thing really happen?

  Evidently. He was now living proof. “How?”

  “I have the gift of healing.”

  “Gift?”

  “God uses me to heal.”

  He wanted to laugh. If someone had told him he’d be having this conversation, much less believing her words, he would’ve called them crazy. Yet he couldn’t argue with the lack of wound on his leg. “So…” He swallowed, but no saliva came to his mouth. “You–you just go around healing people?”

  “If it’s God’s will, yes. It’s God who does the healing, but He uses me to do the work.”

  He sat hard, the asphalt hurting his tailbone as he crashed against it. “How–how does that work?”

  “I pray and God says yes or no.” A half shrug lifted her shoulders. “You can’t explain the supernatural.”

  “Is that why you said that sometimes prayer takes a lot out of you?”

  She examined him for a few long seconds. “It’s more than just prayer. When God heals through me, I absorb the pain or sickness for a short time.”

  His eyes flicked to her leg. No sign of blood, although her capris blocked his view of her thigh. “So the knife wound…”

  “Felt like it happened to me.”

  If she absorbed what happened to others, that might explain her seemingly fragile health. “The soccer game and Felipe?”

  She nodded. “And Monica earlier today.”

  While he’d witnessed the pain she’d experienced, the whole thing didn’t make any sense. “If God can heal, why do you have to feel the pain?”

  “Why not?” She leaned forward. “There’s always a cost. You see that in your job so you should understand. Your job has cost you things, yet you do it anyway. Why would doing God’s will be any different?”

  “Uh, because God wants you to do it?” Was he really having this conversation? “Why would He make it hard to do what He wants you to do anyway?”

  “He gives me a choice. He doesn’t force me to help others.”

  “Then why do it? It doesn’t look like it’s fun.”

  “Helping others is easy when it doesn’t cost anything. It’s when there’s personal sacrifice involved that our character is proven.”

  True enough, but at what expense? How much could her body take? While she seemed to recover every time, wouldn’t there be a limit? “Aren’t you worried that you may not bounce back one of these times?”

  “My life is in God’s hands. I’ll be here as long as He wants me to be.”

  Must be nice to be able to live with that kind of confidence. “Well, thanks. I really thought we were all dead for a minute there.”

  Her smile looked strained. “If you hadn’t listened to me and called for backup when you did, we would’ve been.”

  Footsteps echoed down the passage.

  They must’ve gotten through the fencing.

  He looked up as Morgan burst around the corner.

  Morgan’s gaze started with him, moved to Elly, then canvassed the area before returning to him. “You good, kid?”

  Kid didn’t even bother him this time. Funny how almost dying could put things into perspective. Zander pushed up from the ground. “Yeah, we’re good.”

  “Found a bloody knife on one of our perps.” Morgan jerked his head back toward the main alley. “And blood in the passage. Who’s that gonna match?”

  Dang it. He’d forgotten about the blood evidence. “Me.”

  Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “Only you?”

  Okay. Looked like the healing thing was coming out now. With the evidence and the number of cops on scene, there’d be no keeping it quiet either. “Yeah, it’s all mine.”

  “That was a lot of blood, kid. Sure you should be up and moving around?”

  “I’m fine.” Unbelievable as it seemed.

  Silence. Morgan’s focus shifted across Zander’s body, probably looking for a gaping wound.

  Not that he’d find one. He wouldn’t even see the blood, thanks to Zander’s black pants.

  Morgan sighed. “Talk. Something tells me you’ve got one heck of a story to tell.”

  No kidding. The question was, how much did he tell? If he told Morgan everything, he’d probably be heading for a psych eval, but he wasn’t crazy.

  At least he didn’t think he was.

  Zander recapped the basics of what had happened, leaving out Elly’s cryptic warnings and the healing bit for now. It’d come out sooner or later, but he needed more time to process.

  A heavy hand landed on Zander’s shoulder as Morgan leaned in. “Kid, I think you’re in shock. A knife to the thigh is nothing to mess with. You sit here and I’ll get a medic.”

  He shook off Morgan’s hand. “I’m fine. Look, I know how it sounds.
But the fact is that Elly prayed and the bleeding stopped. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

  At least not without sounding even crazier.

  Heck, he wouldn’t have told Morgan that much if he hadn’t needed to.

  Morgan looked at Elly. “All you had to do was pray?”

  A laugh broke from her. It lacked her usual spunk and sounded pretty weak, but hopefully Morgan wouldn’t notice. “God’s in the business of working miracles. You think a little knife wound is too much for Him to handle?”

  Yeah, Morgan probably did think that. In fact, up until an hour ago, Zander would’ve agreed with him.

  But a lot had changed in that hour. Now he wasn’t sure what to think.

  Morgan shook his head. “Don’t drop your drawers or anything, but I want to see the wound.”

  Zander turned and used his fingers to spread the rip in his pants.

  Morgan knelt and stared, muttering something about impossible.

  Didn’t he know it.

  Inhaling raggedly, Morgan rose. “I still think you oughta have a medic look at that.”

  There was no need, but he nodded. It beat arguing.

  “Let’s get out of this alley, huh?” Morgan turned and led the way.

  Zander crouched in front of Elly. If she was still feeling his pain, she may need help. “Can you walk?”

  “I’ll try.”

  He stood and she grasped his offered hand.

  Tears glistened in her eyes as she slowly straightened but she didn’t complain or cry out. He didn’t release her as she took first one tentative step, then another.

  Forget fragile. Elly was one tough chick.

  Knowing what he now knew about her had completely changed his perspective.

  A sharp inhale punctuated the sudden tightening of her hand on his. Her legs trembled and he grabbed her elbow just before she went down.

  “I-I’m s-sorry.” Her voice shook as badly as her legs had only a second before. “I-I think I n-need a little more time.”

  Time wasn’t a luxury they had right now. They needed to clear the area so the officers could process the scene.

  He pulled her arm around his shoulders and curled his arm around her waist. “Here. Lean on me. And if you need to stop for a minute, just say so.”

  It was a few steps before he thought of Monica.

  He looked back. “Hey, Moni…”

  The gazebo was empty.

  His gaze darted around the area.

  No sign of her.

  Maybe she was out in the alley with Morgan or the other cops.

  “She’s gone.” Elly’s voice broke into his thoughts.

  “What do you mean gone?”

  “One of the other police officers took her out to the alley, but she slipped away when he got distracted by someone else.”

  How did she…?

  He bit the question back. There were more important questions than that. “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Great. Not only had they almost been killed, but they’d lost Monica in the process.

  Sure, they’d caught a few gang members, but they were no closer to solving Jessie’s murder.

  And now the best lead they’d had was once again in the wind.

  Ten

  “You need to rest?” Zander looked at the distance left to the end of the passageway. Man, was this slow going. While they were almost to the end of the passageway, they still had the alley and distance to his car to go.

  Elly’s face was white. Sweat beaded her forehead and her fingers clenched the back of his shirt.

  “Keep going.” The words were barely audible.

  Maybe he should carry her out.

  Yeah. And endure endless ribbing from the guys over rescuing the damsel in distress. He cringed.

  More labored steps.

  Ribbing or not, he had to offer. Heck, he was practically supporting her whole weight already. “Want me to carry you?”

  She shook her head. “I can make it.”

  Stubborn or tough, he wasn’t sure, but that determination would make her a good cop.

  That was the only trait she possessed that would make a good cop. She’d probably rather talk to bad guys than arrest them and her instincts about danger would end her career – and her life – in a matter of hours.

  Multiple sets of eyes traveled to them as they reached the alley, including Morgan’s.

  Approaching at a brisk clip, Morgan looked at Elly’s face. “Medics are on the way. You all right?”

  “No medics. I just need to rest.”

  Questions lingered on Morgan’s face, questions to which Zander did not want Elly to provide answers. Time for a diversion. “Help me get her to the car, will you?”

  Morgan ducked under Elly’s other arm and they carried her to his Mustang.

  She fell heavily into the passenger seat, hauling her legs in as if they were made of stone. Without asking, Zander reclined the seat and locked and closed the door before turning to Morgan.

  They walked a few feet away.

  “I thought you were the one stabbed. What the heck happened to her?” Morgan rubbed his shaved head.

  “I think she must’ve wrenched her leg when she dragged me down the alley.”

  Don’t lie. The words whispered through his mind. Funny how they sounded kind of like Elly.

  Yeah, well sometimes lying was the best option.

  The truth will set you free.

  Or label him the department nut job.

  Ugh. It felt wrong to lie to Morgan, but it beat the alternative. He’d worked too hard to get to where he was at. He wouldn’t compromise the respect he’d earned.

  “This before or after you were stabbed?”

  “After.”

  Morgan looked at him. “I’ve gotta tell you, I’m having a real hard time buying this whole thing. If I didn’t know you and we didn’t have the blood evidence, I’d think you were making it all up.”

  “Try living it.” Zander stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Trust me, I’m having trouble with it, too. And I was there.”

  Morgan’s attention shifted behind him. “Looks more serious than a wrenched leg. I’m gonna get a medic.”

  “She won’t thank you for it, man. I’ve learned that one already.” Time to change the subject. “How many guys did we get?”

  “Five. That all of them?”

  “That I saw, yeah.” With any luck, at least one of them would talk. It might not help them solve Jessie’s murder, but if it helped bring down the Alma Negra, it would be worth it.

  “So tell me how going to the center to get her statement turned into all this.”

  That was the question of the day, wasn’t it? Should he tell Morgan what happened or sugarcoat it?

  The truth.

  Shut up, Elly.

  And now he was carrying on conversations inside his mind with a woman who was passed out in the car behind him. Great.

  Well, why sugarcoat anything? The truth wouldn’t hurt anyone, except maybe to have Morgan accuse him of being crazy for following Elly’s mysterious message from God.

  Which actually turned out to be spot on.

  “Elly said Monica was in trouble and that she was going with or without me. I figured it was better if I came along.”

  Morgan arched an eyebrow. “How’d she know?”

  He even had to ask? Zander leveled a look at him.

  “God again?” Morgan shook his head. “The Big Man sure is chatty where she’s concerned.”

  So it seemed. But he had to admit, she’d been right every single time.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  Zander winced as he glanced at his watch. Two hours! Where had the time gone?

  Was Elly still waiting in his car? Or had she given up on him and walked back to the center? He clenched his jaw. That was the kind of thing she’d do.

  Well, he’d pretty much done all he could do here anyway.

  Which wasn’t much, given that he’d been in
volved in the incident.

  In fact, most of what he’d done the last two hours was answer questions and point out where things had gone down.

  He lightly backhanded Morgan’s bicep. “Hey, man. How about you take Elly’s statement so I can drop her off somewhere.”

  Assuming she hadn’t already left on her own.

  Morgan nodded. “Sounds good.”

  They walked in silence toward the mouth of the alley. As he rounded it, red curls came into view on the passenger side of his car.

  So she was still here.

  Good. He didn’t like the idea of her wandering around down here on her own, especially not with what happened earlier.

  If word had gotten around to the Alma Negra, he, Elly, and Monica might all have targets painted on them by now.

  He unlocked the car and opened the passenger door. The interior was a comfortable temperature, thanks to the cracked window and shady parking space, but sweat cast a sickly gleam across her forehead.

  Shivers visibly rocked her body.

  This was his fault. If he hadn’t gotten stabbed, she wouldn’t have… healed… him and she’d be fine.

  Morgan touched her forehead, jerking his hand back as her eyes flipped open.

  Confusion lingered as her gaze bounced around the car, passed over him and lingered on Morgan.

  “You’re burning up. I’m going to call for an ambulance.” Morgan’s firm tone would have killed most people’s opposition.

  But Elly wasn’t like most people. She shook her head. “No medical. I’ll be okay.”

  “You are not okay.” Morgan crouched beside the car, spearing her with narrowed eyes. “Are you honestly going to refuse medical attention?”

  A weak nod responded.

  Talk about stubborn.

  “I just need to sleep it off.” Her words were so soft they were barely discernable.

  “Guess it’s your call.” Morgan sighed. “I need to take your statement, but it can wait until tomorrow.”

  Rising, he turned to Zander. “Convince her to go to the ER, will you?”

  “Sure.” As if he could. “I’ll catch you in the morning.”

  He rounded the car and slid into the driver’s seat. “Where to?”

  “Home.” The word ghosted into the air.

  Man, she did not look good. At all.

  What would she do if he just drove to the hospital? She didn’t have the strength to fight him off. Or even to walk away, for that matter.