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Hidden Death - Suspense
Chapter One
The traffic on Highway 1 leading into the Florida Keys was backed up for ten miles in both directions. Squad cars of every possible jurisdiction were parked on both sides of the road with their lights still flashing. Two medics were leaning against the hood with their arms folded. They weren’t needed, but it was a slow day, and they were curious. Two Florida State Troopers stood next to a sign that read, “Crocodile Crossing.” In the mangroves a young deputy sheriff was heaving. It was 86 degrees, but a breeze blowing off Florida Bay kept most of the bugs to a minimum. It was spring in the Keys, and nightfall was just a few hours away, but it was still humid and uncomfortable if you weren’t standing in shade. Next to the road was the shallow water of Little Blackwater Sound where two fishermen sat quietly in a battered skiff. They both looked like conchs, men who had lived in the Florida Keys all their life. A few yards from them, another deputy was guarding something lying in the shallow water. Sergeant MJ Kepke acknowledged him with a silent glance.
The deputy by the water was starring at her, but she ignored him, and turned toward the deputy trying to control his retching.
“Detective.” The young deputy in the mangroves cleared his throat and wiped his hand against his mouth. “It’s still snagged on his pole. "We haven’t touched it.”
Thanks Jordan.”
With a fluid motion, she grabbed the back hem of her long skirt, brought it between her legs, and tucked it into the shell belt she wore. Stepping carefully between the mangroves, she made it to the handsome deputy by the water. She nodded her head. ‘Anders.”
He winked at her. “MJ.”
“Detective Kepke.” She glared at him.
Shrugging he motioned toward a fishing pole resting on a mangrove root. Something white and bloated that reeked of death was caught by the hook. “That’s it.”
She squatted down on her heels and stared at what appeared to be a hand and part of an arm. It was bloated,the skin was sloughing off, and the odor was foul, Trying to keep from puking, she noticed that the finger nails were torn to the quick, and there was a trace of scarlet nail polish.
“Shit.” She turned her head and gagged..
The deputy said, “Looks like a croc or gator got her, or it could have even been a shark.”
MJ stood up and met his eyes. “Maybe, but I have a feeling she was dead before it happened.”
“Why?” Deputy Anders asked.
MJ pointed at the hand. “It’s been a while since her last manicure, her nails are ripped, and those look like ligature marks on the wrist. The lab will be able to tell us more.”
Anders whistled and took a closer look. “Damn it, you’re good.”
MJ ignored the compliment. “Have CSU and the marine unit been called?
"That’s affirmative. FHP’s sending out their unit too. You think the body’s still out there?” Anders asked.
MJ thought for a moment before answering. “I doubt there’s much left of her to find. I’d say that hand has been in the water for a while.”
He cleared his throat. “First time I’ve seen anything like that.”
“It doesn’t get any easier.” Nodding toward the skiff she said, “I guess I’d better go talk to them. Guard the remains until the crime scene investigators take over, than help those other deputies with the traffic.”
It was evident from his face that he didn’t like taking orders, at least not from her.
She ignored him and walked toward the skiff. The scruffy fishermen stared as she approached.
“Are you the two that called it in?”
One of the men eyed her breasts under the soft cotton blouse and smirked. “Yes mamm. I’m Greg Young, and he’s George Wright. ”
“It’s Detective Kepke. Monroe County Sheriff Department.” MJ put her hand next to the badge and holster on her belt and gave him a look that could freeze water..
He ducked his head.
“Where do you work?” She asked.
Gruffly Greg answered. “We’re both handymen for Oceanside.”
MJ nodded. “Tell me about finding it.”
George coughed and answered her. “Not much to tell. We were fishing about fifty feet out when we snagged it. Soon as we saw what it was, we called the cops. I threw out that float. It’s attached to a line with weights.”
An old bleach bottle floated nearby in the water.
“That was smart.”
The man grunted. “We figured you’d want to know where we found it. What do you think happened?”
“Don’t know. How long were you fishing?’ she asked.
George scratched the whiskers on his chin. “I’d say about an hour. Our day ended at three and we figured on catching a few snappers.”
MJ sighed. “Wait here for a minute. Deputy Jordan will take down your statements.”
The young deputy had his stomach under control, and she met him a few yards from the skiff. “You okay Jordan?”
Although he was bone white under his tan, he nodded.
She touched his arm. “Can you take their statements for me?”
“Sure MJ. I mean Detective.” Jordan knew she was trying to give him something to do to keep his mind off the grisly remains.
“Thanks, it’s going to be a long night.” MJ sighed and walked toward the lights by the road. CSU and the marine units had arrived.
Excerpts
Summer 1983 Prologue
Rachel skipped by her mother’s side eager to join her friend Sally in the sandbox. “I’m a little teapot short and stout,” she sang in a sweet childish voice, her bouncing curls tickling her shoulders. When she plopped down beside Sally, she stopped mid verse and shuddered. Her smile and laughter vanished. The sun was bright, but a strange shadow only she could see covered her friend like a malignant fog.
Sally stared at her feet and when Rachel touched her she felt...pain. Rachel’s back and thighs seemed like they were on fire, and there was a gigantic lump in her throat. She was terrified.
Tears ran down Rachel’s cheeks as she snatched her hand back. “Your daddy hurt you!” she screamed.
Rachel’s mother knelt beside her. “What’s wrong, honey? What is it?”
“He hurt Sally. Her daddy hurt her.” She sobbed on her mother’s shoulder.
Sally’s eyes were huge pits in her small face, and she too started to cry. In obvious pain, she stood and backed away from Rachel.
The child’s mother grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away. “You keep that freak away from my girl. You hear me?”
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Rachel’s mother pulled her closer, clearly shielding her from the woman’s words. “My daughter is not a freak. What did your husband do to Sally?”
Sally’s mother looked guilty and terrified at the same time. “He didn’t do anything and it wouldn’t be your damn business anyway.”
Rachel knew better, she had felt it. Her mother obviously didn’t believe it either, for she glared at Sally’s mother.
“It was just a slap. That’s all.” Pulling the crying child behind her, Sally’s mother left the park.
* * * *
Still in the sandbox, rocking Rachel in her lap, Colleen made soothing noises deep in her throat. When Rachel was born, the skin of the birth sac had formed a veil that covered her face. As soon as she had seen the caul, Colleen had known her daughter would have the second sight. She just never realized how much the psychic ability would cause her child to suffer.
This was the first time Rachel’s ‘gift’ had shown her something she didn’t want to see, but Colleen doubted it would be the last.
Chapter One
June 15, Day 1
The man accidentally bumped into Rachel Cunningham. Instantaneously, the air froze and blackness blinded her. His aura wasn’t just evil; it was the bottomless pit of death, and she felt herself slipping into it. The malevolence surrounding her felt like a living entity. An indescribable stench made her gag, and the weight of the pulsating air choked her. From out of the pit a multitude of voices screamed in agony.
The man muttered an apology and walked off without noticing how he’d affected her. She saw a bench for weary shoppers a few steps away, and forced herself toward it. The tissue of her lungs screamed for oxygen. In silent desperation she hung onto the back of the bench until her vision cleared, and she could breathe.
Her fingers gripped the wood so hard they turned white. Blinking, she tried to focus, but it was several moments before she was aware of her surroundings. Fight it. She tried to clear her mind of the impressions that overpowered her like lightning strikes. The muscles in her stomach clenched, and bile rose in her throat. Rachel let out a soft groan.
An elderly woman, sitting at the far end of the bench, stared at her. “Are you okay, missy? You’re not going to faint are you?”
The woman’s soft voice brought Rachel back to the present and helped her recover. Get it together. You’re making a scene. Gorge increased in her throat and she swallowed hard trying to fight the need to vomit
“No…something I ate,” she mumbled, her voice sounding as cold and dead as she felt.
Before the woman could reply, Rachel staggered away from the bench and turned toward the exit. All she could think about was getting home as she fought her way through the shopping mall. When she pushed open the outside door, the bright Florida sunlight hurt her eyes. Where did I park?
Once she reached the Miata, Rachel sighed in relief. She threw her purchases in the trunk, and forgot them. All she wanted was the safety of her condo—and Ralph.
Ralph stood in front of the door patiently waiting for her. She sank to her knees and buried her face in the warmth of his fur. The long-haired German shepherd whined and licked her face. Accustomed to Rachel’s moods, his dark eyes were pools of wisdom. He knew.
“Damn it, Ralph, that’s the worst vision I’ve ever had. It was terrifying. I thought I’d never find my way out.”
The dog cocked his head to listen and waited until she calmed down. Still holding onto Ralph, Rachel concentrated on breathing deeply. When she finally stood, he looked up expectantly and whined.
She sighed. “I’m okay, boy. I just need a cup of tea and then I’ll tell you about it.”
Ralph tucked his bushy tail between his legs and obediently followed her to the bright kitchen. When she leaned over to give him a cookie, he gently took it. Still holding it in his mouth, he padded behind her into the great room.
Rachel decorated the condo in complementary shades of turquoise, green, yellow and mauve her favorite colors. It amused her to have whimsical accents amid her watercolors, and as an artist, she loved the view of the boats below. For a moment she stood and watched as a small cabin cruiser entered the marina. She turned toward the grand piano that stood in the corner by the French doors, and considered playing for a while, but Ralph nudged her with his head. Instead, she sank into a comfortable chair. Ralph sat in front of her. To let her know she had his full attention, he set the cookie down.
Rachel closed her eyes, gathered her thoughts, then stared straight at him as if he could read her lips. “I was shopping in the mall when a man bumped into me. When he touched me, I felt as though he’d sucked me into hell. Ralph, there were thousands of voices.”
With a whine, Ralph lay down and placed his head on his paws.
Without thinking she reached and gently stroked his head. “This one really hit me hard.” Leaning back, she let out a groan. “Ralph, why does this always happen to me? Why won’t they stop?”
With his cold nose he nudged her hand.
“I know I have to tell someone, but who will believe me?”
Ralph cocked his head.
“Don’t you dare give me that look. If I call Danny and tell him about this, he’ll worry about me.” Preoccupied, she tucked a stray curl of hair behind her ear.
Ralph gave a soft woof when she mentioned Danny’s name—one of his favorite people. Since Rachel refused to own a gun, her older brother, a Chicago detective, had bought Ralph for her protection. The first time she held him he’d been a fat ball of fur with a very large wet tongue. That was eighteen months ago, and now he weighed over ninety pounds and was still growing.
Whimpering, Ralph put a paw on her knee.
“Okay, okay.” She sighed, reaching for the cordless phone beside her. “I’ll call Danny.”
“Detective Cunningham,” a deep voice answered.
“Danny, it’s me.”
“Hi, sis, what’s up?” Danny, a big redheaded man with broad shoulders, replied.
Rachel visualized him leaning back and putting his feet up on his desk. The old suit he’d be wearing would be wrinkled, and his tie pulled loose. Danny was almost ten years her senior and she knew he not only adored her, but was one of the few people who understood her.
“Oh shit, Danny. I really hate to tell you this…I had another vision.” Rachel’s voice caught.
The brief pause told her she had his attention. “Tell me about it.”
“It was the worst I’ve ever had. I was in the mall when this man bumped into me and sucked me into something so horrific I can’t describe it.” She took a deep breath. “I know you’re not going to believe this—”
“Rachel, I believe everything you tell me!”
“Danny… Th-this wasn’t just a rapist. Somehow I knew he wasn’t even a mass murderer. Death surrounded him…like…he had caused the death of thousands.” Rachel felt like she just dropped a bomb.
“What?”
“I know. I know. The first thing I thought about was 911 and everyone who died. Danny I can’t explain it.”
“Take your time, honey. I’m listening.”
Twisting her hair around her finger, she closed her eyes to concentrate. “There was so much confusion, terror, pain…death.” When she opened them the impressions were still bombarding her.
After a moment he asked, “What did he look like?”
“Just…just an ordinary guy.” Rachel sighed.
“Have you reported this to anyone?”
The tone of her voice changed. “Danny, get real. Who am I going to call? You know no one will believe me. They’ll think I’m crazy.” A bitter laugh escaped before she could stifle it.
“Did he realize the effect he had on you? Were you followed?” Danny obviously realized she could be in serious danger. He’d be sitting straighter, gripping the phone with white knuckles. She’d seen him react like this many times in the past.
Rachel thought for a second. “No, I don’t think so.” She shivered. “You know what happens, so I can’t be sure.”
“Look, Rachel. I could get more cooperation from the local PD, but if you’re right, it would be better to get the FBI and Homeland Security involved. Hell, they’re always asking people to report anything suspicious. Maybe they’ll believe a cop. I’ll call the FBI and have them take your statement. Just give them the basic facts, and let them draw their own conclusions. Got it?”
Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Danny. Don’t tell Mom and Dad I called. You promise?”
Colleen, her Irish mother, took her ‘gift’ in stride, but Rachel’s father panicked every time her visions got her involved with something that could be dangerous. He was a general practitioner mystified by anything modern medicine couldn’t explain, and he couldn’t control. His bumbling attempts to shield her had caused more problems than help.
“All I need now is Dad to deal with.”
“I won’t sic him on you if you’ll promise to be careful. Remember what I’ve taught you and watch your back. I’m worried about you, sis. Don’t go anywhere without Ralph, and carry the mace.”
It made her feel good just talking to him and she giggled. “Right.”
“Rachel, this isn’t funny. I mean it!” Danny sounded like thunder rumbling in the distance.
Even though he couldn’t see her, she saluted him. “Yes, sir, Lieutenant.”
Ralph’s tongue dropped down and he flashed his best doggie grin. With great gusto, he finally attacked his cookie.
“I love you, sis. Call me tomorrow and let me know what happens.”
“Yeah, I know.” Something felt like it was stuck in her throat. “I miss you, Danny.’
“Say the word and I’ll be on the next plane.”
Before she answered, she thought for a brief moment. “It’s okay. I’ll be all right.” She exhaled. “Send the Feds. We both know how open-minded they are.”
“Yeah. Well, maybe you’ll get lucky and they’ll send someone with half a brain.” He grunted. “Call me.”
If he thought she were in any danger, he’d be ringing her doorbell before she knew he was coming.
“I promise, Danny. Love ya.” She slowly lowered the phone, and for the first time in months, she was afraid.
