Buried But Not Gone

By Juli Monroe

Denise Evans thought she could move on with her life after the horrific suicide of her husband. Until someone started killing her students. A local warlock, Jim Novik, suspects someone or some thing may be using her husband from beyond the grave. Some things are

Buried But Not Gone

A new urban fantasy in the same magical universe as
The Warlock Case Files

• Language: English
• Publisher: Juli Monroe
• Release date: Oct 15, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311412935

Juli Monroe

I've been writing fiction almost as long as I can remember, starting with fan fiction at 13 (before I even knew there was a term for it). In my late teens, I tackled my first novel: a thriller from the most sedentary kid you'd ever known. It was every bit as bad as you're thinking.A few years ago, I decided it was time to finally make my dream a reality. Inspiration for the characters in my Warlock Case Files series hit, and I started writing. I've published three books in that series with more to come. My most recent books is the first in a spin-off series, introducing a new warlock character. No worries, though. Paul and Dafydd have a guest starring role in that one. Currently I'm working on the next book in the Warlock Case Files. Dafydd will be getting an apprentice!

Book preview

Buried But Not Gone

By Juli Monroe

Cover Art Copyright www.dreamstime.com/nomadsoul1_info

Copyright © 2015 Juli Monroe

Smashwords Edition

Table of Contents

Title Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Newsletter Sign Up

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

September 14, 2010: late evening

Storm clouds rolled over the Silver Diner parking lot, casting strange shadows over the silver Civic hatchback huddled by itself in one corner of the almost-empty lot. Broken letters—v and n—from the neon sign flashed uncertainly in the night.

In the front seat of the hatchback, a woman hunched in on herself. The lights from the damaged sign stuttered across the fresh bruises on her face. Maternal instincts made her automatically glance in the rearview mirror to check on her son. The boy was small for his age, no more than eight, and he sat slumped over, listlessly playing with his action figures. She knew she should be back there, holding and comforting him, but she still couldn’t shake the pain and horror she’d so recently suffered.

Lightning flashed, and fat raindrops made star patterns on her windshield as the headlights of a familiar Ford sedan turned into the parking lot. Denise looked again in the rear view mirror, tried to put some animation in her face, succeeded a bit. At least she could fool herself into believing that her blue eyes held some life. She ran a quick hand through her short blond hair and turned to her son.

Come on, Danny. Kevin is here.

The boy looked up from his toys, tears streaking down his face. Will he make Daddy go away?

Denise shook her head. I don’t know anymore, son. I just don’t know. The flatness in her voice should have frightened her, but right now, she thought herself beyond fear. Numbness pervaded her body and emotions.

Danny looked down at his toys, as if hoping they could come to life and defeat the villain confronting them. Denise regretted he’d had to learn so early that TV answers had no place in real life.

Something moved in her peripheral vision, and she jerked around, only to see Kevin’s face looking in her window. His brown eyes held sympathy, kindness, and mercifully, not a hint of pity. Even so, she couldn’t meet them directly. Denise opened the door.

I’m sorry, Kevin. You’re getting all wet.

That’s okay. His tone was casual, but he drew back further into his jacket to escape the rain, which was coming down harder. Dressed in his usual jeans and polo shirt, he was a welcome presence. Why don’t we go inside now? Danny looks like he could use some pie.

Involuntarily, Denise’s hands touched her bruised cheeks. Kevin put a hand on her shoulder. The uncertain light turned his dark skin an ugly green. With an effort, she suppressed a shudder at his touch. It’ll be fine, he said, his voice low and soothing. I’m with you.

She tried to summon a smile to show her gratitude, but it just didn’t come. So she popped her seat forward to let her son out of the back. Let’s go, Danny. Kevin thinks you need some pie.

Gratitude flooded through her when her son perked up at the offer of a treat. Kevin picked him up in strong, well-muscled arms and said, Come on. Let’s outrun the rain.

Denise followed, locking the car with her remote. The bright chirp, chirp was so wrong, considering the circumstances. She followed Kevin and her son across the parking lot, hunching her shoulders again into her short black coat, this time to avoid the rain, now coming down in sheets.

As Kevin opened the door to the diner, Denise stiffened but immediately relaxed when she saw the place was almost empty. The one old man at the bar glanced up briefly before going back to his contemplation of a half-empty cup of coffee. A stale pastry continued its journey toward petrification on a plate by his right hand. The hostess glanced up from her station, her eyes widening when she saw the bruises on Denise’s face. A sharp gesture from Kevin stopped her before she could say anything.

Melba, he said. Can we get a seat in the back?

Sure thing, Kevin. She waved to the back of the restaurant. Take your pick. There’s plenty.

He nodded, shifted Danny on his hip and motioned Denise to pick a seat. She went as far from the door as possible and slid into a booth. She considered taking off her jacket, but right now a thin gray sweater and jeans didn’t seem like enough between her and the world. She pulled the jacket more tightly around her, restraining from zipping it all the way up. Kevin settled Danny in beside her. The boy clung with one hand to her arm and his toy with the other.

Kevin moved to the other side of the booth and sat down. He shivered and rubbed his bare arms.

The waitress came over a moment later. Her dark eyes were kind, matching her round body. She reached up to remove the pen she’d stuck in her graying hair bun.

Kevin. Good to see you. Her eyes passed over Danny and Denise but didn’t stop on her face. Instead, she addressed Danny. Hey kiddo. Is that Iron Man?

Danny nodded, his expression solemn as he lifted up his action figure. Mom gave it to me for my birthday. Denise’s heart melted at his piping voice. With his dark hair and eyes, he looked so much like his father, but his kindness was all her. Her son pointed to the t-shirt he wore under a denim jacket. And this is the Hulk. He could beat up Iron Man any day.

The waitress smiled at him, the expression making her homely face briefly beautiful. Lucky you’ve got parents who love you so much.

Everyone froze, and the waitress colored, obviously realizing she’d messed up. Her eyes darted to Denise’s bruises, and she lowered her eyes.

Kevin rescued the situation by saying, Coffee for the two of us. Hot and black as that sky out there. And a piece of your apple pie and some milk for the boy.

Her eyes rose, and she smiled at him. Coming right up, Kevin. She hurried off to put in their order.

After she left, Kevin spoke, his voice soft, although Denise could hear anger kept barely in check roughening his normally deep voice. I didn’t realize how bad it was. You want to talk about it? He did a number on you this time.

Denise shook her head, and her gaze darted over to her son, who was looking out the window, apparently watching the rain. In a minute. I need some time to pull myself together. This isn’t going to be easy. Her eyes drifted down to the table.

Take all the time you need. I booked off when I got your call. He reached across the table and took her hand. This time she didn’t react to his touch, although the contrast of her white skin and his large, dark hand distracted her for a moment. One thing, though, if I’m here in any official capacity at all, I have to report this.

Denise didn’t raise her eyes but squeezed his hand as if it were a life preserver he’d just thrown her. I know. I thought about that before I called you. Can you…can you just be here as a friend, for now?

Kevin reached out with his other hand and grasped both of hers tightly. I can, and you know I will, but I think you’re making a mistake. I’m a cop and your friend. I’ve watched him hurt you for a long time. I want to make sure he can never do this again.

Denise sighed but before she could respond, the waitress arrived with their order and fussed about, giving the adults their coffee and placing the plate of pie in front of Danny with a smile and a casual, Eat that up, son.

Denise sipped her coffee and watched Danny dig into his pie until the waitress had vanished back into the kitchen. Then she looked directly at Kevin for the first time that evening.

I know you care. You’ve stood by me through a lot. She heard her voice crack, but she forced herself to continue, to get across her determination. Please, support me this last time. Even after everything that’s happened, I can’t hate him enough to want him in jail. She knew that was wrong and that it wasn’t about hate. John did deserve everything his actions had warranted, but she just couldn’t face it right now. All she wanted was out, and she thought she’d do just about anything, make any kind of deal, to that end.

Kevin nodded, the motion slow and reluctant, and took a sip of coffee. All right. If that’s what you want. But you don’t need to hate him to put him away. Just acknowledge that it’s where he belongs.

Denise shook her head again. I can’t do that. Not even after tonight.

Kevin leaned forward slightly, putting down his cup. Tell me about it.

She took a deep breath and gripped the coffee cup tightly, hoping the warmth would melt something deep in her. She fixed her eyes on a sign advertising Fall for Fairfax. It was easier than looking at Kevin. Finally, she said, He called earlier this evening and said he wanted to discuss a few things, like where Danny would go to school and when he’d visit. Stuff like that.

As she spoke, Denise marveled at her own calm. How rational she sounded—far more than she felt inside. A part of her still wanted to scream and cry and curl up in a corner somewhere and never come out. I’ve been telling myself I should have known better, but except at the very end, he’s always cared deeply for Danny, so I believed his reason for wanting to get together.

She took a large swallow of coffee, relishing the way it burned painfully, like penance, going down her throat. I left Danny with a neighbor and drove to his place. Things started out innocently enough. We talked about Danny’s schooling. He wanted to know where we would be living, but I just told him I hadn’t decided yet. A part of me guessed that telling him everything wasn’t a good idea.

She forced out the next words from a throat suddenly tight. Dread pooled, heavy and hot in her chest. Then everything fell apart.

Denise paused, losing her carefully won composure and burying her face in her hands until she could go on. Kevin reached over and put a hand on her shoulder. Danny dropped his fork, the metallic ring echoing in the quiet diner, and crawled into her lap. He clutched his toy in one hand and his mother’s sweater in the other.

Denise hugged her son hard. She wanted to stop crying for Danny, but the sobs had a mind of their own, and they refused to stop. A moment later, Danny started to cry too. She dragged a reluctant breath past the constriction in her throat and forced herself to calm down.

Kevin waited, patiently, until her sobs subsided, and she had reassured Danny by sending the boy back to the remains of his pie. She stared out the window for a moment, noticing absently that the rain had stopped. Traffic zipped by on West Ox Road, and she wondered how many of them were going home to loving families. Finally, she felt ready to go on.

He’s always loved me, or thought he did. Even when he beat me before, he said he did it because he loved me.

Kevin interrupted quietly. They all say that, Denise.

She nodded, suddenly able to meet his dark eyes. I know that now. Therapy’s helped a lot. But I really believe that he meant it, in an odd sort of way. He really thought that everything he did, he did for love. I know it sounds strange, but that’s the way he was. Maybe you had to live with him to understand. She shook her head, not knowing how to explain her ex-husband to anyone else.

Anyway, after we talked about Danny, and everything else, he turned away. It’s weird, but I remember the lightning flashing on his face, and it was like something switched inside him. He came over and tried to put his arms around me. I backed away and told him no. Then he started crying. He said that he still loved me and that he would always love me. He said that he didn’t think he could live without me. I didn’t know what to do so I just stood there and listened as he poured his heart out. I don’t even remember everything he said. Sometimes he was barely coherent.

As Denise spoke, her mind flashed back to the scene. The brief moment his arms had been around her, evoking memories, both of the good days, before things had gone sour and of more recent pain. Those arms were capable of such extremes. However, more than anything else, his tears convinced her nothing could go back to the way things were. The man she had fallen in love with never cried. She had no idea who this new man was.

Realizing she had stopped speaking, she began again. Then John asked me to reconsider the divorce and come back to him. If he’d asked me four months ago, before the therapy, I might have said yes. Even after the therapy, saying no was the hardest thing I’ve done since telling him I wanted a divorce six months ago.

Another flash of memory. Sitting in her living room, holding her aching ribs and deciding, right then, that she didn’t deserve the pain she’d been allowing him to inflict on her for years.

At first he seemed to accept it. I started for the door, but suddenly he grabbed me and started hitting me. He was saying things like he’d beat out the devil that was making me leave him. I tried to get away, but he held me too hard. Denise rubbed her arms, still feeling his hands gripping her, squeezing and pulling. He hit me a couple of times, once so hard I almost blacked out. But then he started dragging me toward the bedroom. I could only imagine what he’d do if we got there, and I struggled harder. I finally got one arm away from him and grabbed a lamp from the table by the bedroom door. I hit him over the head, and he fell. Then I ran.

Her heart was beating faster as she remembered dashing out of his apartment, into the rain that was just starting to fall. Nearly tripping in the slick patina of grease and oil that covered the parking lot. I raced to my car and drove home to get Danny. I was so afraid he’d beat me to the house, and I’d find both of them gone. But Danny was still there. I paid off the babysitter—

Denise remembered the scared look in the teenager’s eyes when she saw the bruises, just starting to form. She honestly didn’t remember what she’d said, but it must have worked because the girl left without saying anything.

… and then drove here. I didn’t know what else to do, so I called you. Then I waited in the car. I was afraid to move, afraid that if I moved, somehow he’d find me. I know that doesn’t make any sense, but I didn’t start to feel safe until I saw your face peering into my car. Even now, I don’t feel truly safe, and I wonder if I ever will again.

Kevin spoke, his voice both professional and soothing. You did the right thing calling me. Don’t worry. We’ll get a restraining order against him. You won’t have to see him again, except in court.

Denise nodded and realized tears were again running down her face. Danny looked at her, eyes big with fear, but somehow still supportive. When Kevin took her hands again, she felt better with her cold hands enveloped in his large, strong, warm ones.

Then she looked out the window and froze.

John stood outside, staring at her. Denise felt her world narrow down to just his eyes. She dimly heard Kevin ask her what was wrong, but she couldn’t look away from the hurt and the pain and the despair outside the window.

Part of her noticed the deeply-etched circles under his eyes, and she thought he must not be sleeping much. The circles made his brown eyes seem like deep wells of sadness, and his face was slack, as if all the spirit had left the man whom she had once loved. The moment seemed to stretch into hours. Raindrops dripped down his cheeks, pooling in his slightly open mouth. He was still dressed as he had been earlier, in one of the sensible, off-the-rack suits he wore when he taught his classes. John’s throat moved, as if he were about to speak, but then he shook his head and turned away and started walking toward the street. Water slicked his dark hair to his head, making him look smaller and less threatening than he had earlier.

Denise wanted to speak, to say something to break the spell, but her shock held her paralyzed, and she couldn’t force words past the heavy dread sitting on her chest. Without words, she couldn’t turn away. Dimly, she felt someone shaking her, but even that seemed far away, like it was happening to another person.

She watched John cross West Ox Road, the traffic seeming to part to let him pass. He got into his car, and even through the rain and the distance, she could see him clearly, see the droop in his shoulders and the halt in his step as he opened the door and got in.

His car door closed, and she could hear the clunk, even from that distance. She prayed the sound would end the spell, but still she could not look away. Her heart lurched, and she knew deep inside that the horror was just beginning.

From across the street, she saw John look at her again. It was impossible that she could have seen him at that distance, but she did. She never forgot those eyes: dead and yet filled with a terrible black light. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She even wanted him back at that moment. Anything to appease the accusation in those horrible eyes.

It didn’t end. Maybe it would never end, and the two of them would be locked here forever, until the world stopped and everything crumpled around them. She watched him turn the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life, and he pulled out of his spot. From the prison of her mind, she screamed at him to Stop! Don’t do this! But his mouth stretched into the rictus grin of a corpse, and he locked his gaze with her.

Then he drove straight through his red light, heedless of the oncoming traffic. For a dreadful moment, Denise thought the car would leap across the street and into the window, swallowing her up in that chasm of pain.

But then a Chevy station wagon broadsided him, smashing his red Accord and almost knocking him into the passenger seat. Horribly, he still came on, the eyes accusing her with every passing breath. A pickup hit him next. Denise heard the horns blaring as cars swerved to avoid him. And yet, he still came. Until a BMW convertible swerved wildly to avoid him, plowing into the side of a minivan in the next lane. The van crashed into John’s car, smashing him again into the pickup. Only then did the eyes close and release her. Finally, Denise could scream.

Chapter 2

September 14, 2010: late evening

Someone was shaking her, and Denise realized she must have passed out. As she slowly roused herself, she heard distant sirens and the closer sound of crying.

A hard surface was beneath her, hurting her spine. She moaned and turned onto her side. The crying continued, and her muzzy brain knew she should recognize it. Finally she opened her eyes and recognized her surroundings. The diner. Right. Turning her head, she saw Kevin standing over her, concern in his eyes.

Are you all right?

She sat up slowly, the after-image of John’s eyes burned on her retina. She shook her head, still dazed and slowly focused on the crying, which now she realized was coming from Danny.

She saw her son sitting in his seat, half-eaten pie swimming in a puddle of spilled milk. A surprisingly clear part of her mind wondered how it had spilled, while the rest of her reached out and clutched her son to her. He grabbed her, buried his face in her chest and sobbed.

She heard Kevin say again, Are you alright? You passed out.

Denise managed to look at him. Yeah. I think so.

She heard the sirens again, closer this time and glanced out the window. Immediately, she wished she hadn’t. People milled about the torn and twisted wreckage of at least four cars. The flashing lights of the approaching emergency vehicles lent a ghoulish cast to the spectators, and Denise shuddered.

Kevin patted her shoulder. Yeah, it’s pretty awful. I’m not sure what happened. He looked at her closely. It was a bad crash. I didn’t really see it, but I think someone drove straight across traffic. His voice was puzzled. I know it was bad, but I wouldn’t have thought it would make you pass out. Did you see something I missed?

Denise couldn’t believe her ears. Surely he’d seen John standing outside? She licked her suddenly parched lips and asked, Didn’t you see him?

Kevin furrowed his brow. You mean the driver? No, I was looking at you when it happened. You’d gone all white, like you’d seen a ghost.

Denise shook her head, wondering if she had imagined the whole thing. Trying to gather her thoughts, she looked out at the twisted wreckage. Her eyes fell on a scrap of bent fender. A bumper sticker, amazingly whole, hung from the twisted metal. It read WALL DRUG. No, she hadn’t dreamed it.

Last summer, they’d taken a three-week tour of the Midwest, doing all the touristy things. Really? Second largest ball of twine? John had asked. At Wall Drug, they’d had a stupid fight. Her husband had wanted the bumper sticker as a memento of the trip to take with him always. Denise had always hated bumper stickers, but she’d finally given in. It hadn’t been worth getting him angry.

Her eyes filled with tears. Even with the fight, it had been good. Maybe the last good time they had spent as a family.

Slowly, she drifted back to the present and became aware of Kevin speaking.

Denise? Denise? Are you all right?

What a stupid question. Of course she wasn’t all right. Would she ever be again?

Running her hand over Danny’s hair, trying to stay focused, she said, It was John in the car.

Danny looked up, tears streaking his face. I saw it. It was awful. He just drove across the street. It was like he didn’t care.

Kevin shook his head, his eyes darting between Denise and her son. That can’t be right. Why would he do that? He paused and then added, How could he do that?

Lights flashed again outside, and she looked out again. In her brief trip to the past, two Fairfax County police cars, three fire trucks and several ambulances had arrived, and the aimless milling of civilians had been replaced by the purposeful movements of uniformed officers. Kevin seemed to come to a decision. Hold on. Let me go check this out. He stood up and left the cafe.

Danny looked up at her. Why would he do that, Mommy?

Denise looked down at her son, wishing again that he hadn’t needed to grow up so fast.

I don’t know, honey.

Danny went on, as if he hadn’t heard her. I saw his eyes, Mommy. They were weird, not like Daddy at all.

Denise thought back for a moment, remembering the bleak deadness in those once-familiar orbs. Danny was right. Those weren’t the eyes of her husband. But who else could it have been? He’d looked like John. He’d driven John’s car. Even with all the evidence, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that it hadn’t been her husband. Not quite.

But she could hardly share that with her son.

Just then Kevin came back, his eyes grim. I’m afraid you’re right. I saw the license plate. It’s John’s car.

Denise’s gaze darted to the window, where she saw the rescue workers bringing over some large machinery. To pry open the door? She hoped they wouldn’t need her to identify her husband’s body. Or was that just in movies?

Kevin took her hand and pulled them both from the booth. "Let’s move away from the windows. No need for you to have to watch