Dead Girls

by Russ Trautwig

  Police have released very few details about the death of Superstar Rocker Jimmy Vale. The Office of The Medical Examiner in the Denver Department of Health released a statement saying they were dead for some time. The names of the deceased were being withheld pending family notification. His death, however, was confirmed by his manager, Salvatore Mingano. His body was discovered just past 5 PM Thursday night by a hotel staff member at the Hyatt Regency Downtown. It is reported by a reliable source that the bodies of two young women were also found in the room. A very public and scandalous death for such a reclusive and admirable performer. The early speculation is that the boyfriend of one of the women, possibly seen on hotel security footage, surprised the Rock Star and his girlfriend when he showed up at their hotel room. An unnamed witness reported seeing “blood everywhere, the room was covered in red.” Police have not released the name of any of the victims besides Vale. A growing memorial of candles, flowers and stuffed animals has appeared at the entrance to the hotel. A similar tribute has sprung up outside the gate of Mr. Vale’s Hollywood home. There is additional footage, the source said, of the boyfriend walking his dog outside the hotel before and after the crime, a bizarre twist as if this story needed one: The police are currently seeking him and calling him a person of interest.

  Kimberly looked up from the paper without seeing, a thin veil had covered her eyes, concealing the details of everything around her. People floated past in blurs and the light dimmed and brightened. Nausea flowed over her like a doctor’s diagnosis of inoperable cancer. It was all in that last sentence, she thought, wasn’t it? Up to that point, the story was gruesome, troublesome, and horrific, but unclear. After that sentence, there was no doubt. She felt for the gun behind her back and was not the least bit comforted at finding it there. She had a real wonder if guns would be much help at all. What then? What would it take to kill, yes kill, capture was not an option here, these things, whatever they were. She heard her name being called from a thousand miles away and then a stranger’s voice, “Miss, miss?” Then a hand was at her elbow and another under her arm, strong hands lifting her. “Come on, Kim, lets step outside for some air, you’ll feel better,” Chris said.

  Out in the open with her back leaning on the side of the Taurus the murky fog began to lift. The sky above had turned leaden and the dark gray clouds blotted out the sun. She looked at Chris once her eyes had cleared, he was waiting for her to speak. “Are you ill?” he finally asked. Something in that struck her as funny and the thought that humor was still possible brought her great relief. She laughed in a way that might have scared men who had not witnessed things in their life that Chris had. Instead, he seemed to find it somewhat comforting. He smiled back at her. “I’m sorry,” she said, “It’s not really funny,” she added. “Here,” and she offered him the paper that was still clutched in her hand like a vise. The color drained slowly from his sun-weathered face as he read, replaced by pallor reminiscent of a Saxon winter.

  She watched him sympathetically, once again wanting but not knowing what to do. She touched his cheek as he read and thought she saw the color begin returning to the place she touched. “We were right here, maybe even this gas station, who knows. So long ago, two lives ago: That was before any of this happened.” His eyes were downcast, staring at Kim’s shoes and the pebbles on top of the blacktop between them. He slid into the spot next to her and leaned back on the car. “We were two young kids with the world at our feet, dreams and fears and longings. Desperately wanting to grow up and become men and find our place in the world, longingly wishing we could stay young forever.” He touched her hand where it was touching his face. He held it and gave a sidelong glance at her face. The wet line of a tear that had run down his left cheek was there, but the tear had disappeared. There were tears in her eyes as well, but she was crying for him, crying for that look on his face. He remembered the two sandwiches he had bought and realized he was still holding the bag they were in. He held it up, “hungry?” he asked. She had not gotten the coffees.

  She clicked open on the car lock. “Go ahead in and start,” she said, handing him the keys. “I’ll go get the coffee and pay for that paper. I think it’s time you began to come clean with everything. We need a better plan that the one I have; these fuckers will eat us alive.” What the fuck am I gonna tell Jack, was the real question on her mind and she wondered if she would need to go off the grid. She would, of course, if she had to, of that she had no doubt.

  Chapter XLVIII

  Assistant Executive Director Jack Riley was sitting in a large brown leather desk chair, unconsciously rocking back and forth as he read the official dispatch in his hand. He had been driving down Pennsylvania Avenue in the general direction of the Hoover building when he heard the story on the news. It was a Saturday morning and he had not been planning to go into the office but once he heard, well, it just seemed the thing to do. When a suspect, even a long shot suspect like that Vale guy ends up dead in a mess like that well, it bears a closer look. He hadn’t even gone a mile, when the call came in from Agent Watson. He hit the accept button on his steering wheel and pulled to the curb. His black Cadillac would not look out of place on any street in DC. Let those other government hypocrites drive their German and Japanese cars, he was driving American.

  “Jack?” the voice asked.

  It was her. “What timing, Kim, I’m sure this isn’t a coincidence.”

  “No Jack, no it isn’t. I assume you’ve heard then?”

  “Yeah. I’m thinking this is gonna end up being another one of your brilliant discoveries, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know about that, I mean fucker’s guilty as hell, believe me, but I don’t want you to think this closes the case.” Her voice was questioning, tentative, very unlike Kimberly.

  “I wasn’t really thinking anything yet, just heard, but since you’ve got me, why not tell me how it doesn’t close the case? I mean, except for all the obvious follow up we’ll start now.”

  “Jack, this might sound a little crazy, I know, but…”

  He interrupted. “Where the hell are you? Sounds very loud there.”

  “I’m in Ohio, a Dunkin Donuts.”

  “A cop in a donut shop? Really? You can’t make up something more original with all that reputed intellect of yours?” he asked with obvious jest in his voice.

  “Sorry, Jack, but that’s the truth.” She hadn’t even commented on his joke. Not like her. She sounded serious and stressed which made him worry.

  “Are you headed back to Milwaukee? I think I’d like to see you come to DC, we need to start wrapping this up.”

  “Well not exactly, there’s…there’s another suspect,” Kim said. Jack could picture the other end of the line in his mind, Kim scrunching up her face in anticipation of the screaming that would come from his side of the call. He stayed calm.

  “What the fuck, Kim, why am I only hearing about this now?” It wasn’t screaming, he was being incredibly and uncharacteristically, patient.

  Kim must have seen her opening and took it. “Because, I don’t think he’s human Jack,” she paused, and he said nothing to break the silence. “Jack?”

  He sighed audibly, wanting her to hear his frustration but not wanting to stifle her creativity. “Forty-eight hours Kim, I want you in my office at noon on Monday. Got it?”

  “Yes, Jack.”

  “And next time you call, call from somewhere that I can hear you more clearly, for God’s sake. Sounded like you said you were chasing Zombies or something. Hey, Kim, you’re okay, right? Need backup? Anything?” But she was already gone so he hung up the phone. He swiveled his chair around so that he was looking out his sixth-floor window onto 10th Street NW. He wasn’t seeing anything, just looking. He wondered if perhaps he had given her too much freedom. Not human? He didn’t think she was talking about an animal so what did that leave. He didn’t want to think.

  Chapter XLIX

  The Springhill Suites Hotel on Route 12 was a typical business traveler
’s haven. The rooms looked like IKEA staged showrooms, there was a small gym with a couple of treadmills and some free weights, a bar in the lobby doubled as a continental breakfast/coffee station in the morning, and it was near enough to all the major highways in the area. For Special Agent Kimberly Watson, however, its location just eight minutes south of Rocky Arbor State Park was the highlight. She had booked them a two-bedroom unit that shared a common living room and kitchen, each bedroom was en-suite with its own bathroom and shower.

  In years past there would have been papers and maps strewn all about the room as they discussed Chris’s eight years of research and findings on the evil that inhabited the North Woods; today, however, it was a laptop and an IPad. Kim was reading some of Chris’s notes and Chris was pulling up the satellite image of the area of focus. Kim sucked breath in through her pursed lips in a reverse whistle.

  “How is it possible that no one has ever connected these dots before, it’s crazy,” she said, as she went from one episode of violence to another. In all, he had uncovered sixty-six of them ranging from abductions to disappearances to murders, spanning two hundred and twenty years, in an area that encompassed about six square miles. She was reading about five boys whose bodies were found naked and beaten to death at a creek nearby in 1853. No one was ever brought to justice and no explanation was ever found. Townspeople who were interviewed in newspaper articles across the years all professed complete ignorance of any of the violent events. It was as though some giant conspiracy existed here that no one would talk about. It was just conveniently ignored.

  There were some striking similarities with the cases she was working on as well. Except for the five boys whose bodies were found by the creek, no trace of most of the other victims was ever found. Of the sixty-six victims Chris had uncovered fifty-one were female and of those, forty were aged twenty and under.

  “Here, look,” Chris said pointing to the image on the screen. It was an aerial shot of an island. The island, according to Chris, was the epicenter of all the incidents. As he zoomed in, a raised earthen structure became clearer, it was an ancient Native American burial mound.

  Kim looked over his shoulder. She was dressed in blue jeans and a black tee shirt and had her hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Is that supposed to represent some kind of animal?” she asked.

  “It looks to be a chimerical creature, a hybrid made up of a dog, a bear and an eagle,” Chris explained.

  Kim looked at him with a renewed sense of respect. “You figured all of this out yourself?” she asked.

  “I had some help,” he answered, “the curator at the Natural History Museum and one of the researchers at the New York Public Library. It would have taken me twice as long without their help.”

  “Yeah, okay, but the ideas, the thought process, the premise, that was all you. This is really amazing, and that’s coming from someone who does this for a living,” Kim said, smiling and giving him a smack on his right arm. His blush was full face this time, but she turned away, pretending not to see. She found it charming.

  “Yeah, I suppose. We still have a lot to prove though,” he added, cautiously tempering her accolade.

  “You’ve got a book here, you know? When this is all over and you need to turn the corner, this could be a good start,” she said, continuing to scroll through his notes. She marveled at his organization. It was different from any approach she would have taken but she was trained and practiced, his was just common sense but it worked, or at least it logically led to his conclusions.

  “Let’s just hope it has a happy ending,” Chris said.

  “Speaking of endings, is that in here somewhere? A wooden stake through the heart, or kryptonite or something,” Kim said with a chuckle.

  “Don’t laugh, you’ll get to it and, yes, or something,” Chris said.

  He went back to work on the images of the area, zooming in and out using Google maps and Google earth. He had already marked off a few places of interest, but the burial mound remained the primary objective. It had the dual distinction of being geographically violence-centric as well as being mythically based. For the most part, they would be walking through hilly, thickly forested terrain and there would be some water crossing necessary as well but that was Kimberly’s job. He had located a very narrow stretch of the Wisconsin River, on the Southeast edge of the island, where it might be possible to walk or swim across, but she had told Chris to leave that to her.

  Apart from a forty-minute lunch at a nearby restaurant, they had spent the entire day in the room. Given the stakes, she had considered seriously heading straight to the site when they arrived, time was not an ally and lives might just be in jeopardy even as they sat here. But, this time taken for her to completely understand his research, his methodology and most importantly his conclusions, trumped the expediency. Kim had gone out once alone as well, arranged for the water crossing, and then returned. After their arrival yesterday and a good night’s sleep, it had been nothing but work. Tomorrow was their first planned exploratory excursion, but they didn’t plan on making the island until the day after that. She knew she could push Jack from Monday to Wednesday, he trusted her.

  “So, dinner in or dinner out?” she asked, seeing the light beginning to fade outside and dusk making its expected appearance. A growling in her belly prefaced the question. She had moved to the kitchen counter, sitting there on a bar stool, but he was still on the couch. The open floor plan allowed them to move between these two rooms but still essentially remain together.

  “Surprise me,” Chris said looking up from his maps and rubbing his tired eyes with two fists. She watched him with interest and curiosity. They had spent the entire day together and there was nothing of that prior feeling of attraction. What had changed, she wondered. As he looked up at her sitting on the stool, waiting for her answer, however, it rushed over her again, like a wave of anticipation or panic but pleasant, warm. She could take him right now; her body was suddenly signaling arousal. She pushed it away.

  “How about German?” she asked. “There’s a Sprecher’s Pub just up the road, we can walk it,” she said looking at the limited options on her phone.

  “Count me in,” he said, but his tone was distant, distracted, anything but willing.

  Considering his reluctance, Kim thought she knew what it might be, he was wondering if his ten days of sobriety would be challenged. “Or we just order in Chinese, there’s a place nearby that delivers.”

  “I think I’d love that, I have a little more to do here anyway,” he answered, relieved.

  “You know what, you keep working, and I’ll go pick it up. I could use a little air. Anything special?” she asked, standing, and heading for her bedroom to get her sandals.

  On the way, she did stop at the German Pub and downed two quick shots of vodka while she looked around. It was a small restaurant and the clientele was strictly families, with a few Millennial couples sprinkled in. She was the only person at the bar.

  When she returned to the room, she saw that Chris had taken the opportunity to shower. He was in the same seat, but he was shirtless with wet hair and a pair of gray sweatpants on. He looked very good to her and she wished she had downed just one more shot. “Go ahead, start without me, think I’ll wash the day off too,” she said, heading to the shower unsure what her own intentions were. When she came out, she had a white towel wrapped around her, tucked in so it stayed where it was, covering her from mid-breast to mid-thigh. She watched his reflection in the glass of a framed picture on the wall, he followed her every move, she stood as though examining the picture, her hips swaying just a little to a tune in her head. His eyes stayed on her, she turned to face him, to catch his gaze and challenge him to keep it there, but Chris quickly turned them down to his computer.

  Kim grabbed the bag of food off the table and two plates and forks from the cabinet and walked to where he was. He never looked up, but she noticed a faint flush of red on his face. When she sat next to him, only then did he show any n
otice of her and that was just a smile joined with some eye contact. She found it very sexy. His eyes had stars in them, little clear sparkling stars. The smell of the Moo Shoo pork, his request, when she opened it, put hunger on the front burner and eroticism simmering on the back one. They ate hungrily, it had been nearly eight hours since lunch.

  * * * * *

  The sun was down outside, and the blackness of the rural night had closed around the hotel. Chris stood and walked to the window looking out at the woods in the distance. He was thinking he would never want to be there after dark. He still feared the dark and knew that the black in these woods would hold hard. Even here in the hotel last night, he had slept with a light on. Mercifully no demon had come, not even in his dreams.

  He didn’t hear her come up behind him but when she put her hands on his shoulders he jumped, startled, despite their comforting warmth. Her fingers conducted electricity from her to him. “Easy, Chris,” she said, soothingly. “Relax.”

  He stayed where he was, looking half out the window and half at her reflection in the glass. He realized what he had been thinking earlier, about the attraction having waned, was just ridiculous, it was stronger than ever. Then he closed his eyes. Her touch was healing, and he really did begin to relax. All the stress that was concentrated in the twisted muscles in the back of his neck, began to float away as she untied the knots with her hands.