Krewe of Hunters The Evil Inside 4 by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online Page A

Jamie’s door at precisely eight in the morning. He was going to defend Malachi Smith, and he was going to do it pro bono.
    Jenna decided that her uncle really did know how to read people.
    By the time he arrived, Jenna had mused over her dream, her waking dream or her nightmare—whatever it might have been. It had been natural, certainly. The conversation all day had been about blood and murder, and her thoughts had long lingered on Salem and the city’s past.
    When she opened the door, dressed and ready to go as Jamie had suggested she be, Sam didn’t seem surprised, though he might have been a bit irritated that they both were confident he wouldn’t back away from the case.
    “I’m not sure why you’re coming—I have to spend time at court. I have to become the attorney of record, see what the public defender has done, see where custody lies, file motions…it could be a long day,” he said. “I’m sure the public defender he hired has already made arrangements for Malachi to be seen by a courtappointed psychiatrist, and if we’re going for a not-guilty plea, I have to make sure that we stall the court date as long as possible.”
    “I’m absolutely excellent at sitting around and waiting,” Jenna assured him.
    Jamie came to the door. “Let’s go,” he said. “Sam, thank you.”
    Sam grunted. “I’ll drive. You two do what I say, sit when I say sit and wait as long as you have to wait.”
    Jamie was cheerfully agreeable.
    It was a long morning, and there was a lot of paperwork to file. Since Malachi Smith was a minor with no family and still under the age of eighteen, he had become a ward of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, and there were filings to be made with the state. None of that was difficult, not, apparently, when you were a hotshot attorney. Jamie was given a hearing and appointed Malachi’s guardian. Malachi had to fire the public defender he’d been assigned and accept Sam Hall as his attorney. That was easily accomplished—Jenna waited in the car while Jamie spoke to Malachi with Sam—but then time was needed for filing all the documents Sam had prepared.
    When arraigned, Malachi had not been granted bail; the crime was far too heinous. They met Evan Richardson, Sam’s assistant, who had come to Salem as soon as Sam had called him and had already worked on the motions that had set the ball rolling. He would deal with more motions and more paperwork and the courts while Sam was engaged elsewhere. Jenna liked him. Just about her age, he was a pragmatic fellow from Syracuse, New York, not embroiled in the burden of history that often came with being a New Englander.
    When they finished with the legal paperwork and headed back to see Malachi with all the papers properly filed, Jamie argued the point of Malachi’s incarceration with Sam.
    “I can watch the young man day and night!” he told Sam.
    Sam gave him a long sideways glance. “Jamie, you’re forgetting something,” he said.
    “What’s that?” Jamie demanded.
    “If Malachi Smith didn’t kill his family, a vicious killer remains at large.”
    Jenna felt a streak of cold zip up her spine.
    “Someone who has now killed six people,” Sam said.
    Jamie was silent. She remembered her dream. Blood would flow….
    “All right,” Jamie said gruffly.
    “And you do realize that the majority of the world will believe in Malachi’s guilt. The facts point to his guilt—until we can offer more facts,” Sam said.
    Jamie nodded. “Yes, I see. If the killer strikes again, that will prove that Malachi is innocent, because he’ll have in indisputable alibi.”
    “Yes. That and, if we’re going to do this, no one will really have the time to babysit Malachi every moment and make sure he’s safe. He’s better in the psych ward for now.” Sam stopped in the street, staring at Jamie. “And I have to tell you right now that if we don’t discover something, and it comes to the line, I’ve now taken Malachi on as my client, and