Visions of Evil

by J. E. Neiman

  He saw the familiar Airport Road exit and turned onto it. A vortex, half way up the hill, attracted hundreds of tourist's every day. Supposedly, Sedona has many vortex sites in the area, described as a whirling magnet of energy, either positive or negative charged.

  Years ago, his second wife Tiffany, God bless her dead ass, told him that she felt the wings of angels on the back of her shoulders when they had climbed to the top of the alleged, magical red hill. "Hey Tiff, I feel something too," Jake had whispered in her ear. He hadn't felt anything but how easy it would be to push her over the edge.

  The small parking area at the vortex was crammed full of vehicles. He continued driving up the hill to a viewing vista high above Sedona. Throngs of people milled to his right, peering over the cliffs to the streets of Sedona and to the massive red rock formations in the distance. The dirt parking lot across from the site held at least fifty vehicles. Jake backed into an empty spot next to a dirty, black van from Texas. He stepped out, removed the jumpsuit and tossed it into the car.

  He grabbed a screwdriver from his tool kit and moseyed to the Texas vehicle. Kneeling as if to tie a shoe, Jake looked right and left, then removed the license plate, tossing it under his SUV.

  A white bus with darkened windows barreled into the lot and stopped in front of him. A cloud of pink dust enveloped the area for a few seconds. Jake leaned on the back of the Texas van and watched a load of tourists disembark from the vehicle with Bon Jour Tours printed in large, block letters on the side. He knew enough French to understand the basic dialogue of the travelers as they climbed out of the bus. Morons, he thought. All the way from Europe and they come to Sedona. Vegas, Atlantic City or New York would be much more fun.

  He waited until the travelers were gone, strolled over to the driver who stood by the open door, "Hey, how's it going?" Jake asked with a grin.

  "Thank God, you speak English. Sick of the par-lay-voo and wee-wee crap." The driver's mouth twitched as he tried to articulate the French words within his southern drawl.

  Jake laughed, "They'd be speaking German if we hadn't saved their butts." He stepped closer to the man. "If you'd like a break, I'll watch the bus for you. My wife's taking more damn pictures." He nodded his head towards the viewing area.

  "I need to stretch. That'd be great." The small-framed man reached out and shook Jake's hand. "Thanks." The driver turned and ambled toward the tourists.

  As the man crossed the street and disappeared into the crowd, Jake jumped into the bus. Walking down the aisle, he found a dark-green backpack on the floorboard near the front. He dumped the contents on a seat and sorted through the contents. The only things he found useful were a black floppy hat and binoculars. Jake stuffed them into the pack. Glancing out the rear windows, he saw no one coming so he continued emptying bags, purses and sacks as he went down the aisle. Near the rear of the vehicle, he found a cell phone, food and a climbing ax. The backpack held everything but the ax. Looking outside he saw the darkened red sky. The sun had set and the French would soon return. He hurried to the front of the bus and exited. Perfect way to shop, he thought.

  The driver emerged ahead of his passengers in the distance. Jake hurried to his SUV and threw the loot onto the back seat. When the man arrived at the tour vehicle, Jake was sitting on the bottom step drinking from a plastic water bottle.

  "Thanks. The par-loy-voo gang's headed back. Next stop's a French café in town. Two-hour deal for these freaks to eat. Boring as hell." The bus driver cringed as the tour group approached.

  "Have fun partner and au revoir." Jake backed away from the bus.

  After replacing the California plate with the Texas one to the rear of his SUV, he jumped inside and drove down Airport Road. This time the parking lot for the popular vortex had a few empty spots. It was four pm. He had plenty of time to climb the famous hill before dark.

  Jake recalled his ER visit as he maneuvered up the tiered formation. He had heard an agent and the twins talking about going back to the safe house. What a joke. Safe it was not. Its Sheriff Jon's vacation house for God's sake. Anybody can scale the one-hundred feet up the riverbank and knock off anyone guarding the place. Nevertheless, he wanted to see if there was an easier route in and he had an idea.

  The vortex hill reminded him of his wife, Tiffany. He missed her and was still angry she had made him kill her. Damn it. All she would have had to do was keep her mouth shut. Her senile mother didn't need the funds he had borrowed. The old bitch was dying anyway.

  When he reached the top of the vortex site, it was twilight. Jake gazed east. Just as he imagined, the roof of Sheriff Jon's house was visible about a quarter mile away, partially hidden by tall pinion and juniper trees. Just as he thought, it would be. A rugged path led down the rocky hill. He grinned and went back to his SUV.

  Grabbing the backpack he had lifted from the tour bus, he added two bottles of water along with his tool kit and strapped it across his back. He clipped the climbing ax to a belt loop and double-checked his supplies. Jake had all he would need for tonight's escapade.

  Chapter 70

  Sedona, Arizona

  "Agent Westcott," Rita called as he started to leave the ER facilities. "I may …," she hesitated. "I think I saw Jake."

  "What?" The agent walked back to where Rita stood. "When?"

  "Earlier. I almost ran into a man dressed as a paramedic outside the trauma room. I didn't recognize him then … but … it was Jake. He said my name."

  Westcott's face grew red but he stood still. "You saw the perp here on the premises and you didn't say anything until now? Is that what you're saying?"

  "Yes. But I've searched the premises and he's gone."

  "You stay here. I'll sweep the area then check the surveillance tapes." Westcott paused then said, "Rita, when the Sedona detective arrives to guard the body, I think you should take the night off. Spend time with Dawn's family."

  Rita watched Westcott move away and realized she was shaking. He's right, she thought, I need to be with the family and I need to grieve. Even though the lead agent had remained calm about her not recognizing Jake in the facilities, she knew he questioned her abilities to perform. She wondered why Allie or Madison had not zeroed in on Jakes nearness. Nevertheless, she chastised herself as she turned to gaze into the trauma room at Dawn's battered body. She hoped her friend had put up one hell of a fight. Centered on what the last hours of Dawn's life may have been, she shivered. A sudden feeling of someone standing behind her back interrupted the thoughts. Slowly she pulled her gun from its holster.

  Chapter 71

  Sedona, Arizona

  As Agent Foley drove into the driveway on Elephant Rock Drive, his cell phone rang. When the vehicle came to a complete stop, Allie jumped out to help Madison step from the vehicle into her electric wheelchair.

  Clicking his phone shut, Foley followed the two women up the ramp to the safe house. "That was Westcott. Disturbing news."

  Madison abruptly stopped her chair. "What?"

  "Rita told Westcott that she may have seen Jake in the ER earlier today." Foley walked around the two and opened the front door. "Let's get inside."

  "Maddie told me she felt Jake's presence when we were in the waiting room. I chalked it off. I thought she just felt his evilness since Dawn was fighting for her life in the trauma room." Allie threw her purse onto the entry table. "Shit, if Rita had said something, we would have been certain Jake was there."

  Foley walked into the living room. "Bates. You here?"

  "Yes sir." Bates stepped out of the kitchen. "Just did a final sweep of the house. All's clear. Agent Cretan's outside."

  "I know. We saw him as we entered the grounds." Foley stepped around Madison. "Need to talk to you and Cretan outside in a few. We'll be minus a person tonight."

  Bates went out the backdoor. His footsteps on the stairs interrupted the stillness in the house.

  Allie walked into the room. "Who won't be here?"

  "Westcott's giving Rita the night off due to
the death of her friend." Foley sat down on the couch and stretched his arms over his head.

  "Next time listen to me, Allie. I could feel Jake creeping around." Madison glared at Allie. "Excuse me, I'm going to bed." She wheeled toward her room.

  Allie could see that the day had been difficult for her sister. Dark rings were around Madison's eyes and the spark was out of her voice. "I'm sorry Maddie. I shouldn't have questioned you. I'll be in a few to help you get ready for bed."

  "Foley, it isn't surprising for a murderer to return to the scene of a crime but to go to the ER room. That's a little over the top." Allie sat down on a chair and tucked her legs up under her. She heard Madison close the bedroom door.

  "The guy is insane. Rita said he wore a paramedic jumpsuit and a baseball cap. Probably wanted to see how Dawn's battered body would scare the hell out of you and Madison."

  "Well, we're frightened. Who wouldn't be? Poor Maddie she's pissed and exhausted." Allie stood up. "I am too for that matter. Foley, I don't feel safe here."

  "Well, I'd feel better if we had the National Guard here and heat seeking capabilities but we don't. I'm staying in the house tonight to guard your rooms." Foley stood, walked over to Allie and gazed into her eyes. "With you and Madison's input we'll at least know when the asshole gets near." He rubbed his hand on her cheek.

  Allie embraced him. "Dan, thank God you're here. I feel so stupid that I didn't believe Madison. I'm—"

  "Shhh, don't worry. We'll get the bastard." He pulled himself away. "I need to talk to the agents outside. I'll be back."

  "Lock the door behind me." Foley moved around Allie.

  Allie watched him walk into the darkness. A loud crack of thunder startled her. This place gives me the creeps, she thought. Jake could be watching us right now, standing in the dark forest observing his prey. A flash of lightening illuminated the dark woods and for a second she saw something move. She slammed the door shut and leaned against it. Jake was nearby; she could feel and smell his evil presence.

  "Allie." Madison shouted. "Come here."

  Chapter 72

  Sedona, Arizona

  Madison balanced herself on the edge of the bed and began to undress. She was in pain, exhausted and disappointed with Allie. Tugging the pale-pink tee from the waistband of her jeans, she gazed into space as she recalled the day. Why did her sister doubt her when she had insisted Jake was in the ER facilities? Perhaps Allie negated her twin's insight because she did not sense anything herself. "No, that's not it," Madison, muttered.

  She pulled off her shirt, stretched her arms behind her back and unclasped her bra. Her thoughts continued. Maybe Allie didn't want her former fiancé, Agent Foley, to witness her inability to control her visions when it came to Jake Tansey. In the past, the loss of their abilities only occurred if either one of them had become too emotionally involved with a case. However, this didn't explain why Allie was having the problem with Jake.

  Madison reflected on her decision to use her master's degree, in biological research, at Salk's Institute in La Jolla, California, six months ago. She had needed a break from working with the FBI and her sister.

  At Salk’s, she had found other people who liked to talk about things she enjoyed—quantum physics, astronomy and that DNA was a four-letter language—A, T, G, and C. She had put her talents to a new challenge—the interpretation of DNA strands and sentences. Allie had stayed on as an investigator with the FBI in Denver.

  Maddie unzipped her jeans, pulled them off her hips and let them drop to the floor. As they fell, she looked up to see a gap in the drawn, maroon curtains across the room. Madison felt glowering eyes gazing in at her from the outside. She gasped, covered her breasts with her hands and called for her sister.

  Chapter 73

  Sedona, Arizona

  By the time Jake reached the top of the red-tiered mesa, the sky had lost all trace of color. A bank of thunderstorm clouds gathered in the southwest and a breeze brought the smell of rain. He glanced around and noticed a bald man, dressed in a dark robe sitting cross-legged on the opposite side of the alleged vortex. The guy held his hands out before him and did not move. Never mind him, Jake thought, he's in never-never land and oblivious of the here and now.

  The small flashlight from his toolbox dimly lit the trail down the hill to the east, the direction of the so-called 'safe house.' However, he decided not to take that path just in case the FBI had placed an agent to guard the trail. He doubted it, but didn't want to take a chance.

  Jake selected a steep decline to the south. He could veer to the east when he neared the bottom of the hill. The batteries were weak in his flashlight so he clicked it off. He paused before turning to climb down the cliff wishing he had studied this route before dusk. Since he had hiked in the Rockies and the Sierras, he assured himself that this would be an easy jaunt down and back up to his parked SUV—after he eliminated the twins.

  Oh, how he wished he could make Allie and Madison suffer. They've ruined my life royally, he thought. If it hadn't been for them, I'd still be in Mexico having a hell of a good time.

  As Jake climbed down the hill, he laughed aloud remembering the woman's muffled cries during the fun he’d had with her. Dawn fought like a vixen, but she’d lost big time.

  He thought of what he’d done to one of Ma’s brainless cats when he was twelve. After he had knocked the animal out with a hammer, Jake had sewed its mouth and eyes shut. When the feline became conscious, it blindly walked around knocking into trees, rocks and finally falling into the creek that flowed by the parsonage's backyard in hot, muggy Sunridge, Kansas. He had watched its tiny legs trying to swim in the shallow water until it disappeared around the bend where huge willow trees seemed to reach down to rescue the pathetic animal. He had laughed until he cried.

  He envisioned doing the same thing to the twin psychics.

  An unexpected drop surprised Jake. Small rocks on the side of the mountain caused him to slip and slide. He fell on his stomach through cacti, cat's claw and sharp rocks. His body crashed with a thud against the base of a tree trunk. He spit out dirt and turned his body to grasp the stump to stand but fell again, straight into a large, broken limb. The branch gouged him in his stomach, knocking his breath away. He dropped to the ground and slid once more. This time he rolled with arms and legs flying, stopping only when he rammed into a large solid object. Jake did not move other than to gasp for air.

  When he could catch his breath, he curled onto his side and clutched his gut. The wound felt raw but he didn't think it was very deep, although he felt the warm stickiness of blood on his hands. Jake reached behind his back and noted his backpack was still secure. It was then he realized he had lost his shoes. "Damn it," he whispered.

  He was bruised, scratched and battered. One of his fingernails hung loose. He bit it off and painfully removed the backpack for water. "Shit, why didn't I grab a first aid kit when I'd been on that God damn bus? I saw more than one," he muttered. "What I'd do for bandages right now." He realized how funny that sounded and began to laugh like a wild man as tears ran down his cheeks.

  "Jacob. Oh, Jacob," he heard his mother's voice in the distance. "Jacob, my little Jake boy. Come to Mommy and she will make it all go away," the voice soothed. "Lay your head in Mommy's lap. You know how."

  Jake quit laughing and listened. All he could hear were the trees whispering in the breeze and crickets calling out to each other. He stared into the woods. There was nothing to see but a kingdom of darkness. His mother wasn't there. He knew it, but the sound of the wind and insects seemed to mimic her voice and cadence. "Jacob, my little Jake boy . . ." A drop of cold rain hit his forehead and he tucked himself tight against the rock structure he had slammed into, and cried.

  Chapter 74

  Sedona, Arizona

  The rain began to fall with force. Jake shook his head and raised it so the water would flow into his mouth. He pulled himself to a sitting position and gazed into the darkness.

  I must have blacked out f
or a minute, he thought. Shit, I even heard Mom calling out to me.

  Jake admonished himself for being weak and evaluated his situation. He still had the backpack and even though the climbing axe had bruised his left hip, it remained attached to his belt loop. However, the stomach wound from the tree branch gouge, needed attention. He grimaced as he reached into the bag to obtain something to stop the bleeding and found a travel-pack of Kleenex. As he stuffed the gash with the tissues, he thought of why he was in this predicament. It made him angry and even more committed to complete his mission.

  He pulled out his flashlight and shined it onto the large object that had stopped his fall. It appeared round and handmade from river stones and concrete. Standing on his tiptoes, he could see the top and determined that it was round and at least eight-foot tall. Perhaps a cistern or a reservoir, he thought.

  He turned and rested against it as he illuminated the hill he had fallen down earlier. Jake saw one of his shoes about ten feet away on the incline. He knelt and crawled up the slope and looked for the other one, with no reward. "Damn it," he muttered, "Should have taken the worn path down the mesa instead of playing mountain man."

  Sliding back down on his butt, he noticed that the rocks on the side of the isolated tank, created haphazard stepping-stones. Due to his daily regimen of a hundred sit-ups every morning, his upper body strength allowed him to climb the vessel with ease. He complimented himself for sticking to his exercises even in Mexico. Shining his flashlight over the edge, he could see water in the bottom. No telling how deep it is, he thought. A perfect place to dump a body.