Echoes of the Past

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Echoes of the Past Page 7

by Evan Bond


  "Ok."

  "Thank you. It's the last door on the right. Can't miss it."

  Tara got up and headed to the bedroom, rubbing her eyes. Sasha felt bad for her. She could see the exhaustion in her daughter’s eyes and she felt awful for being the reason she was still awake. What was worse, it may have all been for nothing. Just her overactive imagination and frazzled nerves. God, she hoped it was that simple. Nothing would please her more than to find out the candle had been knocked under the couch or Tara had hidden it in her room.

  "Sasha, this candle, was it solid black?"

  She nodded.

  "And you found it in your house?"

  Again, she nodded.

  "You're absolutely sure it's missing?"

  "Jesus, yes. I looked everywhere for it. What's with this candle? Please, tell me what's going on, Harrison. I'm scared out of my mind here."

  "There was something I left out of the report concerning the first murder. The killer left behind some markings which made the scene seem satanic. I believe it's a ruse to throw me off the trail. But, there was a solid black candle found next to the body. Sounds like it might be exactly like the one you found."

  "What the hell was it doing in my home?"

  "I don't know but what worries me more is why it was stolen."

  "What do you mean?"

  "One was found at a murder scene. Odds are, it was stolen to be used at another."

  Sasha's blood ran cold.

  "How did the killer know I had one?"

  Harrison shook his head.

  "I can't go back there tonight," Sasha said, scooting closer to Harrison on the couch. She hoped he would catch the major signal she was sending. Please let me stay at your house tonight. Harrison grabbed her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

  "Don't you worry. You and Tara can stay here tonight."

  "You don't have to do that." Oh, thank you, God.

  "I do, though, don't I? Serve and protect, right? I figure this is doing both."

  She had to hold herself back from flinging her arms around his neck and holding him tight. There was no way she could go back to that house tonight. She would sit up all night and be petrified of every little noise and thought. It wasn't even herself she was worried for but Tara. If she lost her, well, she didn't even want to think about it.

  "You and Tara can have my bed if you'd like. I'll take the couch."

  "Oh, no, I couldn't. It's your house."

  "Don't worry about it. I spend most nights on the couch as it is. That big bed feels too, empty."

  Sasha tried to read his remark, wondering if there was an invitation there. Was he hinting he wanted to share a bed with her? God, how she hated these games. It was so hard to tell when someone was interested or just being friendly.

  "Thank you so much, Harrison. I don't think I could ever repay you for your kindness."

  "Call me David and we'll be even." He gave her a friendly smile. Sasha smiled back.

  "Sure thing, David."

  David Harrison led her down the hall and to the bedroom. Opening the door, they found Tara sprawled across the bed, her hair everywhere. Sasha couldn't even think about disturbing her at the moment. She desperately needed her sleep.

  Turning to David, she said, "I think I should give her a little while longer. I don't want to wake her up."

  "Maybe if you come back in, say, an hour, she'll have moved?"

  "Exactly."

  "Well, you're more than welcome to join me on the couch. I'll put something on and we can relax."

  "Sure."

  But Sasha didn't give him time to get to a remote. Something in her came to life. She couldn’t explain it but she felt more courage now than she had in years. Harrison made her feel the butterflies she had not felt in ages. He treated her well, he lent her a helping hand, and he never made her feel like an object. She realized the irony of throwing herself at the man made her exactly that but she didn’t care. It would be a welcomed distraction.

  Straddling his lap, Sasha began to kiss him passionately. He ran his fingers through her hair and he did the same. Seconds later, the two of them tangled together on the couch in a full display of passion. The two of them fondled and caressed each other’s naked bodies with only a small glint of starlight filtering through the windows to see. They were caught up with each other and neither noticed the hooded figure watching them from the corner of the living room window.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Across town from the cuddled-up Harrison and Sasha slept a woman alone in her bed. She tossed and turned trying to get comfortable. Her boyfriend was out of town visiting his mother. She was growing older and he wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. She knew she could never ask him to stay home and keep her company over visiting his family back home. Desiree wished she, herself, had fit in more time with her own mother before she had died.

  Life had caused Desiree and her mother to grow apart. Like a lot of people, she had grown up and moved away. After her mother died, she felt guilty for spending so little time with her in her adult life. Her boyfriend, Grant, had always told her not to feel guilty. Her mother knew she loved her very much. Though, it never made her feel better.

  Desiree sat up in bed and looked around. The bed was cold and empty without Grant. The room felt quieter than usual. The whole house did. She missed his body heat wrapping tightly around her like a cocoon. His nude body only inches from hers. More often than not, their sleeping in the nude kept them from truly sleeping. Their sex life was good, excellent in fact. Almost every night before bed they embrace each other in passion. Thinking about it excited her and formed an idea to help her sleep.

  Making love to Grant always seemed to help her sleep. When he was gone, she always had trouble. She wondered why this idea had never occurred to her before. If Grant wasn’t there to take care of her, she’d just have to do it herself.

  She climbed out of bed and didn't bother with any clothing. The cool air in the house felt amazing on her silky smooth, bare skin. Desiree flicked on the bathroom light and bent down to search under the sink. It was hidden in the far corner of the sink cabinet, underneath a few items. She wanted to make sure no one ever discovered it by mistake. Not even Grant knew about her little toy. Whenever he was out of the house and she pulled it out, she got a twinge of excitement. Almost as if she had taken on a lover.

  Desiree pulled the silver, bullet-shaped vibrator from the box and headed back towards the bedroom. She stopped in her tracks and glanced around the dark house. Although she couldn’t be certain, she swore she had heard heavy breathing. Listening intently, she heard nothing. Jumping at shadows, that’s all it was. Her imagination was starting to run wild. Soon, she would only care about the silver bullet.

  From the darkness behind her, a gloved hand shot out and slapped over her mouth. A second hand cupped her exposed breast. Desiree's eyes began to bulge in absolute terror. She kicked and flailed, helplessly. Her attacker was strong. Every fiber of her being screamed for her to break free and run. Something terrible was about to happen.

  His gloved hand searched up and down her body forcefully as tears rolled down her face. This had to be some sort of horrible nightmare. She would wake up in a cold sweat and everything would be fine. But it felt real. She knew it was real. And she had a terrible feeling this would be the last moment of her life.

  Harrison felt the bile rise in his throat but he forced it back down. It was a scene, unlike anything he had ever seen before. He vowed to bring the person responsible to justice, whatever that meant. Harrison preferred it to mean a bullet from his gun. The awful scene before him did nothing but fill him with rage.

  On the floor lay the body of Desiree Cortez. Disturbingly, she was not in one piece. Her legs had been spread so wide they had dislocated from their sockets. It gave her an eerie configuration, almost inhuman. Her tongue had been removed and now rested in a drying pool of blood only a few feet from the body. Several fingers and toes were missing. The k
iller may have taken them as a memento. Harrison had searched everywhere for the missing digits to no avail. There was evidence of multiple stab wounds. One, disturbingly enough, had been delivered to her right eye. The bloody crosses were present on her cheeks, much like the others before. Unlike before, these crosses had been carved. Harrison wouldn't be sure until after an autopsy but he had the strong suspicion the woman had been raped before the end, perhaps even after the end. Harrison had found something silver under the couch and had rolled it out with a pencil. It was a shiny, silver vibrator slick with blood.

  The scene was almost unbearable. Only one thing seemed clear. The killer had been in a rage when killing Desiree. Her left eye fared better than her right, having not been stabbed, but not by much. It was swollen and bruised and looked like the killer had delivered several powerful strikes. Purple welts covered her abdomen and arms. The last two deaths had been brutal, yes, but seemed relatively quick. For some unknown reason, the killer had been whipped into a frenzy. Harrison feared for his town now. It was bad enough having a killer in their midst, but this? This was inhuman. This was disturbing. This had to be stopped.

  As Harrison squatted next to the body, he spotted something across the room in the far corner. He stood up and approached the object, taking great care not to touch it. Again, with his pencil, he tugged at the black mass. It was a candle, much like the one found with the first body. It may have even been the one Sasha had lost. It slipped free of his pencil and toppled to the floor. He let it roll a few feet away without stopping it. There wasn’t a chance in hell he would risk contaminating whatever fingerprints might be on the candle. Beyond any DNA left on, or disgustingly, inside the body, it was their only chance of evidence.

  When the candle came to a stop, Harrison noticed something carved into the side. From the angle, he could see two letters. S A. Harrison turned the candle with his pencil and read the five little letters that nearly stopped his heart. S-A-S-H-A.

  "What the fuck?" Harrison nearly shouted. Framing her was no longer the goal. This was an outright death threat. Someone in town was warning her. They wanted her gone. Harrison had had enough. He couldn’t understand how someone could do all of this over something so simple as a newcomer. Rape and dismemberment? Who in town could do something so twisted and so vile? There was no one he could think of whom was mentally unstable. Not to the degree this crime had insinuated.

  But there was a bigger problem at stake. If the town knew the severity of this crime, and the branded candle, a panic would surely surge through the town like lightning. There was a difficult choice ahead, no matter how Harrison proceeded. The town needed him, now more than ever. They trusted him. With a killer terrorizing the community, people were already panicked. To let loose the details of the black candle bearing Sasha’s name would only condemn her. The town already distrusted her. Though most people in town might not have truly believed Sasha was the killer, they surely thought her to be the catalyst. The clock was ticking. Soon, the town would either run her out or worse.

  Which brought him back to his current dilemma. He had two choices laid out before him. Either, he would hide certain details about the case in order to protect Sasha or he would force her to leave to protect the town. Hiding the details might spare Sasha from being run out of town but the killings would continue. If she were gone, they might stop. Of course, there was no guarantee of anything and he couldn’t lie to himself. His feelings for her were getting in the way of making the choice. It seemed the right decision would be to send her away.

  However, Harrison didn’t believe that. Sure, the killer might stop. But for how long? Once a killer, always a killer. Eventually, they would get thirsty for it again. The bodies would start up again and he would be right back where he started, only without Sasha. No, sending her away would be a band-aid to a gaping wound.

  He started to despise himself for even thinking about casting Sasha away like a piece of waste. Thanks for the sex, now get out of my town and take your murdering stalker with you! It was out of the question.

  His mind was made up. The candle would be left out of the official report. He would be the only one to know the truth. He was thankful no one had stumbled across the crime scene before it had been reported. Instead, Harrison had received an early morning call from Brian Anderson, one of her neighbors, stating Desiree was not answering the door. Brian was the local groundskeeper and always took care of Desiree’s yard, and almost everyone else’s in town for that matter. He knew her morning routine better than anyone else. When she didn’t answer, he knew something was wrong.

  He scheduled a pick up for Desiree’s body and went about collecting the evidence. With a plastic bag, he snatched up the black candle and stuffed it under the seat in his truck. It felt wrong but it was the only option. There was no time to worry about it, however. He needed to find a way to address the town and avoid the inevitable panic this death would cause. A curfew or some form of martial law might be the answer but he was unsure. Harrison knew he had a hard time ahead of him. He had no idea how much worse it was all going to get.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "If you know something, say something," Harrison said from the town hall stage. With another body found, he had decided to call another town meeting. Of course, he left out certain details such as the candle and Sasha’s carved name. There was no need to further implicate her in a crime she clearly had nothing to do with.

  The crowd murmured together as everyone talked amongst themselves. "Together, we can put a stop to these horrific crimes. That’s why I’m urging anyone with any information to come see me directly. Someone here knows something and it’s your responsibility to speak up, even if you don’t think it’s important. If someone you know is spending time out of the house at odd hours of the night, I need to know about it. Every little detail counts here, people."

  "Investigate the new woman," a voice cried out. Several other voices shouted out in agreement. Sasha, sitting in the back of the room, could only shrink down so low. If the room erupted into a violent mob and turned on her, which seemed quite likely, she wanted to be as well out of sight as possible.

  "People, get a hold of yourselves," Harrison boomed over the increasing noise. "At this time, we don't have any suspects. If anyone has a reason to suspect someone, bring it to me in private."

  "None of this happened until she came to town. That’s reason enough for me!" A voice cried out.

  “Yeah, she brought it with her from the city. I read it in the paper!” Another yelled.

  "Jesus Christ," Harrison whispered, not entirely sure if everyone had heard him or not. "People, please. We might be a small town, but the constitution is still in effect here. Everyone is still innocent until proven guilty. Now, I don't want to hear any more baseless accusations. If you have hard-"

  A voice cried out from the crowd, "I say you arrest her just to be safe. What harm would it do?" This seemed to spark the attention of the crowd. Many whispered their agreeance. Others clapped and some cheered. Harrison's blood began to boil. They were scared, he understood as much. But the accusations were wildly unfounded. There was nothing which connected Sasha to the crime scenes. At least, nothing the town was aware of. At that moment, Harrison knew he had made the right decision. This town hall meeting would have taken a violent turn had they known Sasha was somehow connected to it all.

  "People, I can guarantee Sasha is not involved in these killings. She has a strong alibi which proves she was nowhere near Desiree’s home during the time of the murder."

  "So, you've questioned her?" Carol Leighter's voice called out. "Does that mean she was a suspect?"

  Harrison shook his head, growing tired of the questioning. The meeting was not going at all how he had planned. Opposition was to be expected, sure. But these people were being blind, no ignorant. They didn’t want the truth, they wanted a scapegoat. To think someone from their innocent, small town could be capable of such atrocities was a hard truth to swallow. Instead, it was easi
er to blame the outsider. Harrison wanted hard evidence. He wanted to convict a murderer. Instead, he was having to defend a woman he already knew to be innocent.

  "Carol, I need you to pull it back a bit with the articles. You're scaring the town. We have no leads and we have no suspects."

  "So, you're saying it could be her?"

  "No, I'm saying we need evidence before we act on anything. If you have something that incriminates her then bring it to me. Otherwise, trust me when I tell you she had nothing to do with last night’s murder."

  This circus had to come to an end. The fact that Sasha hadn’t stormed out of the town hall already was a miracle. Though, Harrison feared how her doing so would make her look to the town. It was time to rope all of this in before real harm was done.

  "And why not?" Carol persisted.

  "My God, Carol. Please, let's drop the questions. I need you to be my eyes out there. You can't be working against me here."

  "Then just tell me how she couldn't be involved in Desiree's murder!"

  "I told you all, Desiree was sexually assaulted by the attacker. A woman could not have physically done it."

  "Or, maybe she has someone working with her."

  "Oh, for the love of, fine. Sasha couldn't have done it because she was at my home last night."

  Before the words had lifted from his tongue, he regretted them. His face went red and he assumed Sasha's had done the same. Sheriff Harrison held his breath and waited for the inevitable collapse. Almost the entire town suspected the new woman in town to have killed their friends and neighbors and now they knew the sheriff had slept with her.

  Sasha stood up and pulled her daughter out of the building. Harrison thought about running after her but decided it was pointless. He had done enough to embarrass her. There would be time to talk to her later. Now, there was damage control to be done. The room was still quiet and everyone shifted uneasily in their chairs. Most stared at him and others looked at each other. Finally, the room exploded with voices. They boomed from every corner. Harrison did his best to listen for anything he could answer, anything rational.

 

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