HOMECOMING: A thrilling crime mystery full of twists (New York Murder Mysteries Book 4)

by Joshua Brown

  But before he could answer my question, I heard a loud bang echo from somewhere in the house. Not knowing the layout, I couldn’t work out if it came from upstairs or down.

  “What the hell was that?” I asked, reaching for the pistol holstered on my belt.

  “I’m doing renovations in the basement,” Victor said. “Something probably fell.”

  He shrugged it off as if nothing happened.

  “Help me,” I suddenly heard a voice scream. It was female, that much was certain, but I knew it was Lee-Anne Jefferson, without needing to ask. “Somebody, please help me.”

  “Hands in the air,” I said, trying to pull my pistol up. Before I had it in my hands, Victor had a baseball bat from beside the door swinging towards me. It connected with my jaw, dropping me to the ground. I heard the constant cry of the female’s pleading and begging as I collapsed to the ground. My vision was hazy; a second bashing connected the side of my head.

  Victor didn’t speak. He didn’t look down at me, dropping the bat and running for the door. At least Rodney was out there, I thought, struggling to regain any sense of composure. But with every attempt at getting to my feet, I crumpled over once more. A constant loop of raising and dropping, knowing I should steady myself and wait for backup.

  All I could hope for now was that Sheriff Rodney Stern had this under control while I struggled to regain composure.

  Chapter 22

  Jack

  By the time my senses returned enough to stand, I heard Rodney yelling outside, accompanied by the woman’s cry in the basement. There weren’t any words, only a shrill screeching that stung my ears and left me with a heavy heart. A car’s engine roared to life, pulled into reverse, and drove off. I stumbled through the house, reaching to my head.

  I tasted the blood in my mouth from the first blow, but luckily the second didn’t crack skin.

  I got to the door, only to see Rodney on the floor. He clutched his belly, rolling and writhing on the floor. He called my name once or twice before I got to his side.

  “What the hell happened, Rod?” I dropped to bended knee. My head was spinning, and I couldn’t see straight. He sat in a pool of his own blood. His brown khaki shirt soaked red.

  “That son of a bitch got me in the gut,” Rodney said. He looked scared, and I couldn’t blame him. “He stabbed me, Jack. Stabbed me right in the belly. I don’t want to die. No, sir. I don’t.”

  “You’re not going to die,” I already had my phone in hand, dialing Freddy to organize an ambulance. The car I heard had to have been carrying Victor wherever he was going to end up.

  So close, I thought. It was all going so well, too. And now we lost him because of the incompetence of the local policing force.

  “Freddy, send an ambulance and get down to Victor’s place,” I said, not giving Freddy a chance to speak. I explained the situation only halfway before moving on. I had to get Rodney stabilized because there was someone in the house who equally needed my attention.

  “I’ll get on it and be right down,” Freddy said, killing the call.

  The closest neighbors who heard the commotion started piling out of their houses, one by one, to see what was going on.

  “You,” I pointed to a woman next door, who approached the white fence between her home and Victor’s. “I need your help.”

  She didn’t hesitate, rushing around to my side.

  “What’s going on out here?” she asked.

  “No time to explain. I need you to stay here,” I pulled off my coat, pressing it against Rodney’s gut. “Can you apply pressure to the wound? Try to keep sheriff Stern steady. An ambulance is on the way.”

  I wasn’t half through explaining before her hands were on my coat, pressing down against Rodney. As much as I wanted to be there for him, Lee-Anne needed me more. It was sure enough to say it was her now. Too many coincidences are what led us to Victor’s door, after all.

  I got back to my feet, rushing inside. “Lee-Anne? Are you in here?” I shouted.

  “I’m in the basement,” her cry came back. “Please, help me.”

  Her sobbing was a harrowing reminder of the sadistic nature of man.

  I rushed down the narrow staircase leading to the basement, only to be hit by the undeniable stench of death. Flicking the light switch on, I saw it, too. In a soggy cardboard box, a decayed corpse lay. My assumption was Victor’s mother, though I had no reason to believe it. The cardboard had soaked and rotted with time, the body’s head sticking through one end, with the legs out of the other.

  Beside it, Lee-Anne lay, twisting in the constraints of duct tape and rope binding her in place. She wriggled in a circle on the floor that looked much like a pentagram made up of a purple paste. Candles were lit and set about four points, with a glass vile of red liquid stood on the fifth. Various other trinkets, including the same found on both Lynne Sawyer and Dominic Cornelius’s bodies, lay strewn about the ground.

  I released Lee-Anne from her bonds, “Everything’s going to be okay.” Her wrists and parts of her clothes were caked in red.

  As I freed her, she leaped to her feet, wrapping her arms around me, weeping frantically against my chest. I escorted her out of the basement, away from the dead, as soon as I could.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much.”

  “There’s no reason to thank me,” I replied. This was my honor-bound duty. The reason I stayed in Priest River and knew I wouldn’t be able to go until this job was done. Hell, if Rodney Stern couldn’t bring Victor down after knowing something had happened, how would they have ever found him in the first place?

  “I know it’s hard, but can you tell me what happened here?” I asking Lee-Anne in the state she was in. She could barely stand, no doubt exhausted from being trapped in Victor’s basement.

  But pressing on was the only way now. I just wanted this all to be over.

  By the time we got outside, Freddy and a few paramedics were already tending to Rodney. Freddy rushed to my side, but I waved him down to keep a little distance. I didn’t want to spook Lee-Anne with too many faces.

  She nodded her head against my chest and then told me everything. How he brought her over, treated her like a princess, only to lock her in the basement. He cut her wrists and spoke of a Goddess that had to enter her body so that they could fight the evil infiltrating Priest River.

  Delusional was all I could think.

  But it was a trait that too many held these days. Boredom and having the world’s knowledge at their fingertips twisted the youth. There was something for everyone on the internet, but that wasn’t always good.

  “Do you have any idea where Victor might have gone?” I asked. Being so close to him before all this, she was my best bet.

  “I… I don’t know,” she shrugged, shaking her head. “He was talking something about an old willow tree by the river before all this started. The biggest I ever seen, outside the cemetery along the Priest River. Victor said something about that’s where it all started, and that’s where it’s going to end.”

  She started bawling her eyes out again. I tried to comfort her as long as I could until her mother finally arrived. I always found nurturing the hardest part of the job. I found it easier to be reckless and throw myself into the worst of it wherever possible, but being a supportive beacon in time of need felt impossible.

  I suppose it was a testament to my childhood. Not growing up with any of those fundamental supportive pillars left me unable to give it out. So, the sight of Lee-Anne’s mother joining us relieved me.

  “My baby,” Lee-Anne’s mother shouted.

  “Momma?” Lee-Anne faced her, rushing towards her mother’s arms.

  I left the two of them catching up with Freddy. Splinters of pain shot through my skull from the double blow I took from the baseball bat. But as hard as they were, they had nothing on some of the worst I’d taken back in New York.

  “What the hell’s going on here, Jack? It’s a mess,” he said.

  �
��That’s what happens when you let your guard down,” I replied. “Our suspicions were confirmed. Victor’s the killer, kept Lee-Anne in the basement next to his dead mother.”

  “And Rodney?”

  “Don’t know what happened to him. I took a bat to the forehead,” I shrugged. “When I got back outside, he was already on the floor. But I’ve got something. It’s a goddamn longshot, but we’ll have to take it.”

  “Something’s better than nothing,” Freddy replied.

  At least someone started understanding that concept after all the time I’d been saying it.

  “You got your gun on you?” I asked, checking mine.

  “Don’t leave home without it,” Freddy said, pulling his.

  “And you remember how to shoot it, right?” I started walking for my car. Freddy didn’t hesitate, following.

  “Sure, sure. What do you think’s going to happen, Jack?”

  “I don’t know. But for now, we have to prepare for anything,” I said. “You take the wheel. I’m not up to the task of driving.”

  I tossed Freddy the keys when we got to the car. We got into the Camaro and started for the cemetery with hopes of putting this case to bed.

  Chapter 23

  Jack

  My frustration hit a new high as we arrived at the cemetery. Freddy must’ve gotten the word out about the situation before he got to Victor’s house with the ambulance. Once more, a crowd formed outside the cemetery walls, with Buster Stern ahead of them, standing on a bench while he spoke.

  “What the hell, Fred?” I asked.

  He looked at me like a scolded schoolboy, shrugging his shoulders. “The people deserved to know, Jack. I didn’t tell no one important, but word spreads like the locusts on a cornfield in Priest River.”

  “How did they even know where to go?”

  “That I can’t answer,” Freddy looked at me, hoping for approval that this wasn’t all on him.

  I got out of the car, greeted by Buster’s voice.

  “This twisted debauchery that’s kept Priest River clutched in the tight fist of obscurity will be brought to an end, ladies and gentlemen. That’s a promise. There beyond the brambles, deceit runs thick. A hate-fuelled heart drives that boy to insanity. Idle hands are the devil’s workshop, a saying as old as time itself, and that Victor Dinwiddie is drenched in sin,” Buster spoke. “I made a vow to protect this city, and I hold strong to my word. Today, we remove the tyranny and hate and replace it once more with the purity of our town.”

  The crowd roared in excitement, pitch-forked at the ready to bring an end to this.

  “How the hell are we going to deal with a lynch mob ready to kill at Buster’s command?” I said through gritted teeth, eyeing Freddy down.

  That’s what the power of one man commanding a town could do. Too many people eager to follow his command, without care or concern, living in his futile delusions.

  “We’re not going to let it come to that,” Freddy replied. We took a few steps ahead, making his way through the crowd until he reached the front.

  “Our good sheriff, Rodney Stern, is in a hospital bed as we speak. A knife to the belly as penance for his services to Priest River,” Buster shouted in frantic apathy, turning down to us on our approach. “Ah, Freddy Cochran and Jack Mercer. Former heroes in service to the crown.”

  “Buster, get off there,” Freddy was livid. “You’re getting these people all riled up. Let us handle it.”

  “Handle it?” Buster exploded into laughter, adjusting the hat on his head. “You’ve had your chance. The power is back in the hands of the people now, Freddy. We’ve given you time to squash this, and you’ve failed. We will rid the city of Victor Dinwiddie, and we will rebuild from the seeds of discord he has sewn.”

  The crowd murmured, their gleeful excitement evident. I felt locked in a fever dream, ready to pry my eyes open and wake up at any moment. It all felt so surreal, seeing this crowd listening and worshipping some guy high atop his soap-box. They say reality is stranger than fiction, and by God, I’d be inclined to agree.

  You don’t get this level of devotion on TV. This is an entirely new era of bloodlust and hate, all driven forward by the finger of one man.

  “Don’t be a fool. You’ll be sending innocent people into a dangerous situation. You think someone like Victor Dinwiddie gives a shit who he hurts? He’s not right in the head, and you’re going to get someone hurt, or worse, killed. Leave it to us,” I said.

  I wasn’t going to play good cop or try to stroke Buster’s ego. This wasn’t a game anymore. Buster held the balance of people’s lives in his hands, ready to throw them aside to further his hold of this forming cultist mentality. I’d not stand by idly and let it happen.

  “Down the by the river, detective,” Buster said. “They’re awaiting your arrival. But if you don’t act fast enough, my legion will stand up and fight to preserve Priest River’s dignity.”

  My head hurt, my jaw ached, and there wasn’t a lick of sense in any of these people’s heads. “Who are they?” I asked. I thought it was only Victor by the river. But who was I kidding, thinking he’d go at anything alone. Hostages were easy to come by, and a crazed lunatic like Victor Dinwiddie wouldn’t go down without a fight.

  “I don’t know his name. A funny-looking fellah with long black hair,” Buster replied. “The clock is ticking, Jack. You better hurry on now.”

  And so, we did.

  I could only assume the man with black hair was Lucius Magnus. This attack further emphasizing whatever twisted delusions ran rampant through Victor’s mind. These investors were his targets right from the start, so why not get another one before he goes.

  While Buster continued whispering sweet nothings, deluding the minds, and twisting the hearts of Priest River’s citizens, Freddy and I made our way to the river. We drew our pistols, making sure our approach was cautious enough.

  Victor had been using knives until now, but I’d not be surprised if he replaced a kitchen steak knife with a gun of some sort.

  The short stretch from the cemetery to the weeping willow beside the river was on a downhill. From our vantage point on high, we could see Victor below, with a knife pressed against Lucius Magnus’s neck. We cleared half the distance between the cemetery’s boundary wall and Victor before the rumbling footsteps of a hundred Priest River citizens shuffled towards us.

  Too late. Just my luck.

  I had no reason believing that Buster Scott would give me any time at all. He didn’t care what happened here, as long as he got some fun out of it. He warped the rationality in these poor fool’s heads, and now he was sending them marching to a dangerous place.

  “We’ve got to end this quick before they kill that kid,” I said. “How the hell does he even have Lucius pinned?”

  “I told you, Jack. There ain’t no sense in how that boy’s doing what he does. He’s too scrawny, weak, and still, he’s got these giants bending at the knee,” Freddy replied.

  Both Freddy and I picked up the pace until we were only a few meters apart from Victor. Not all that much happened in our approach, only keeping his distance and stepping back at every chance he got.

  We kept our weapons poised and at the ready, focusing on Lucius’s enormous size, shadowing the lanky Victor behind. Sure, we wouldn’t shoot through Lucius to get Victor, but if an opportunity presented itself, I didn’t want to miss it.

  “Victor, let him go,” I said.

  “You better hurry on and do it, boy. You’re opening yourself to a living nightmare if you don’t,” I heard Lucius’s angered tones at his situation. Lucius showed little fear in his situation, only frustration. Hell, I couldn’t even work out if do it mirrored my words of letting Lucius go or drawing the blade across his neck.

  “You’ve got no more control here, demon. The Earth Mother will consume you, as she has your brother and sister. Your twisted sin holds no strength among our people,” Victor replied, eyeing the oncoming crowd. “Look now, while my brethren come to w
atch your inevitable collapse. We’re ready to send you to your eternal damnation.”

  This holy crusade left a sour taste in my mouth. Whatever ran through Victor’s mind had no sense or reasoning. The way he spoke, hissing demon, all just words in a deluded mind. Victor was so far gone now, he didn’t even realize this mob wasn’t around for Lucius but him.

  And as I turned to face it, there was no sign of Buster among the crowd. Easy to point the finger and send your soldiers to death, than stand on the front lines.

  Just like an actual war. Generals bark orders and expect returns, while humble grunts catch a bullet to the brain.

  “I cast you from this mortal coil on behalf of the Earth Mother, my goddess. And with your power, she will rejuvenate and remove your demon seed from this land. I will be a martyr in honor of her power. A servant to her duty….”

  “You think your goddess has any power over the United Fed? You must be the dumbest son of a bitch I’ve ever seen,” Lucius said.

  I didn’t bother trying to make heads or tails of anything here. Lucius was in a precarious position and might’ve been trying to appeal to whatever Victor was going on about. If it was anything else, that was to be dealt with at a later date and probably long after I left.

  My duty ended with Victor Dinwiddie in police custody.

  “Victor,” I shouted his name again and broke the tangent he was going off on.

  The crowd was upon us now, but no one broke their ranks. They spoke among themselves, formulating plans and figuring a way to get Victor without harming Lucius.

  “Let him go. Let’s have a chat,” I said.

  “There’s no reason,” Victor replied. “I control this demon, and I will bring him to his end. You’re too late, all of you. So readily available to allow the infestation to take our sacred town. The dye has is cast, your minds are tainted and polluted. So willing to listen, even Buster Scott’s snake tongue has diverted you from the path. Our history is long and sordid, powerful and potent, and you’ve forgotten it all for delusions of grandeur. The corruption of greed and gluttony have consumed your minds, your souls, and there’s no longer free thinking.”