Body Box
Adult Paranormal Romance Series
Book #2
Michele Wesley
Copyright © 2016 by Michele Wesley
ISBN: 978-0-9961554-1-0
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: This book depicts scenes of violence, strong language, and strong sexual content that is intended for Adults 18+.
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1 - The Torso
Chapter 2 - Moving Parts
Chapter 3 - The Connection
Chapter 4 - Curious James
Chapter 5 - Cause of Death
Chapter 6 - Shifting into Disguise
Chapter 7 - Assholes in Agony
Chapter 8 - Surprise!
Chapter 9 - Lemonade and Cheesecake
Chapter 10 - Partner
Chapter 11 - Show and Tell
Chapter 12 - Suspect
Chapter 13 - Romantic Gestures
Chapter 14 - Guidance Counselor
Chapter 15 - Missing Part
Chapter 16 - Yancy Langston
Chapter 17 - Murfreesboro, TN
Chapter 18 - Tortured Soul
Chapter 19 - Flirting with Desire
Chapter 20 - The Mind of a Killer
Chapter 21 - Lose Control
Chapter 22 - Best Insights
Chapter 23 - Cherry Pie
Chapter 24 - Until I See You Again
Chapter 25 - The Tattoo
Chapter 26 - Swimming in a Sea of Agony
Chapter 27 - Rock Bottom
Chapter 28 - Don't Panic
Chapter 29 - The Walking Dead
Chapter 30 - Spicy Lady
Chapter 31 - Bittersweet
Epilogue
Author Thank-You
Read the first seven books of this series in any order.
Coming soon in the Smoke & Fire Series
Guardian Sixx
Dreams Whisper
Available now in the Smoke & Fire Series
Smoke & Fire
Sparks – Novelette Prequel to Smoke & Fire (Download it free)
Anger & Arrogance
Sevyn
Prologue
She died for the first time on her fourteenth birthday. Yancy stared into the faces of Death’s door greeters as they slowly siphoned off her life force. The pain of the unwarranted attack made her welcome Death’s cold embrace, in which she was more alive than she had been in the world.
Death gave Yancy a false sense of peace even as she stared into each of her attackers satisfied faces. There were four of them. They took turns feasting on her virginity, like it was an intoxicating drug that made them rabid. Staring into the faces of evil, she realized she’d only had fourteen years above ground with a mother who dulled her sorrows with the elixir of street gods.
Cocaine had been Yancy’s big brother. Cocaine was a special-needs child who took all of her mother’s time and attention, but Yancy didn’t mind. She wasn’t a selfish child. She was a sweet precious girl who clung to the hope that her time would come, that she would get attention for being patient. Maybe even, dare she say it— love. A word that meant as much to her as a glass of water to a hell-stricken man. She wanted love and craved it, begged for it even; her heart pleading for an emotion she silently witnessed others receiving in abundance. She knew, deep in her heart, she would never receive the precious gift; but clinging to the hope of someday receiving love eased her immediate desire.
As Yancy lay on a dirty mattress in an abandoned building staring into the faces of evil, her mind roamed.
I was such a waste. Why did he bother? Why did God waste the food, energy, and space on me? She hadn’t lived long enough to repay her debts, not that she would have many. Life had been a series of shortfalls for Yancy: birth, struggle, hunger, mental and physical abuse, and now Death called.
The four continued their assault, cutting Yancy deeply by forcing their will on her. Piece by painful piece they picked at her soul, like bottom-feeding catfish, until the sweet horrifying embrace of Death came to take her pain away. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the folds of Death’s deadly hold, falling freely into his endless darkness.
Moments or hours later, Yancy came awake with a jolt, a mind-blowing spark that rendered no notes of how much time had passed.
Her attackers fled, had left her to recover what was left of her mind, body, and soul. Yancy prayed for her suffering to end, but not even Death had claimed her. She'd graduated from neglected and unloved to her new titles, used, tossed aside, and forgotten.
An immediate and unrelenting need to avenge her grievances took control of her mind. She remembered the entire incident—being dragged, kicking and screaming, as her neighbors gawked. She had no idea how long she had been on the dirty mattress, in the dilapidated building, only feet away from the section-8 apartment she lived in.
Had she truly died?
It certainly seemed so. The need for revenge was now the keeper of her pain and anguish. Who needed love or death when the embrace of revenge clung so tightly? Shouldn’t she have been worried about the traumatic effects of the savage act that had taken her to the deepest depths of darkness? Had she made a deal with Death? Had Death forced her back into this world to do its bidding?
She didn’t know the answers. Revenge was the only emotion that occupied her mind.
Chapter 1
The Torso
The chilly bite of January bid her good morning as Agent Kris 'Yala' Lawrence entered the District of Columbia medical examiner’s office. The building, sat silently hidden behind the larger more bustling structure of the hospital.
Yala found her new assignment perplexing. Jobs that required her training and skills in delivering death were her norm, not investigating the aftermath of death. She was a shooter not a puzzle solver.
As soon as she crossed the threshold into the building, goose bumps pricked her skin, like hard pouring shards of ice-rain. She shook off the chill. Hovering and silently lurking in every corner, the presence of death lingered as she strolled down the dimly lit hall.
Yala preferred to work disguised as a man. She felt more confident that way. Although she called it a disguise, she possessed the special ability to shift into various people and personalities. It was a secret she revealed to no one. However, the only person she called a friend, fellow Agent Sori Knight, had pointed out that a normal disguise could only go so far. Sori never questioned her on the matter, and Yala never volunteered any details.
As a woman, Yala was small and unassuming to most people, especially men. They didn’t respect her authority. Her petite frame, creamy skin, and big smiling eyes led most to believe she was young, inexperienced, and immature. Therefore, Yala saved herself the trouble and generally worked disguised as a man.
Nevertheless, she believed it best to be herself, in this case. She hoped the Medical Examiner, Dr. William Hughes would look past her societal limitations and take her seriously.
She followed the hall until s
he found Dr. Hughes’s office. Peeking through his open door, she found him standing before his desk, seemingly awaiting her. His disconcerted expression heightened her concern as she entered his office. She glanced around before reaching out a hand in greeting.
“Dr. Hughes, nice to meet you. Agent Kris Lawrence, but you may call me Yala.”
She hadn’t missed the hint of unease in the doctor's glare as she gripped the hand he held out to her. His hand swallowed hers, and she was sure her tight grip did nothing to change the doctor's perception of her. She'd seen it all before. He likely wondered if she were equipped to handle whatever situation he was about to introduce.
Yala glanced around once more. She'd entertained the notion that medical examiners were supposed to look creepy. The doctor's stylishly decorated office and even the stylish button up and jeans he wore shattered her implied thoughts. An air of brilliance shined behind his gray eyes. His tall lean frame appeared well-kept and didn't reveal his age, which was fifty-nine based on what she'd read. His head and face of salt and pepper hair shined with a glow of strength and wisdom.
His glasses sat atop his head, like sunglasses and based on the lines of tension in his face, the doctor’s smile was forced.
“Agent Lawrence, I mean Yala. I asked for the agency’s help on this case because it projects an air of hard-to-explain qualities. I don’t think the local authorities should be involved, until we can solve the complex equation surrounding the events I have incurred so far.”
He pointed her towards the door.
“Follow me. It is best for you to feed your eyes and mind, before I attempt to force-feed you an explanation.”
Yala followed the doctor with hesitant steps. His tensed shoulders and quick anxious steps put a crinkle of concern in her forehead.
Dr. Hughes had definitely seen more action in death and murder than she had. He’d spent many years in hospital emergency and urgent care rooms, before becoming the medical examiner. Death was his livelihood, and as important to the doctor as guns were to her.
Why does he seem nervous?
The doctor had a knack for finding solutions to puzzling problems that couldn't otherwise be explained. His expertise in the world of the demented and the unexplained had caught the attention of the Top spy agency, making him one of a few doctors who knew about the top secret organization.
Top pursued cases that delved beyond the secrets that remained veiled from normal society. Over the last year, Yala worked cases that danced atop the flames of the unnatural. Things that went bump in the night were starting to make sounds. That’s where scientists and doctors like Dr. Hughes came into play. They could attempt to explain and interpret what others perceived as impossible. In other words, bizarre murders and crime scenes that couldn’t be explained with logic, he explained with science—or at least tried to.
The tables had turned. Instead of Top calling Dr. Hughes, the doctor had called Top, stating he’d found a case he believed needed extra attention.
Upon entering the doctor’s examination room, Yala expected to see a horrific sight; but nothing caught her immediate attention.
The exam room introduced itself like a person, one who housed many untold stories. The stench of death, laced with cleaning products, jumped out first, traveled up Yala’s nose, and rested at the back of her throat. The room was relatively empty, except for a large stainless steel table in the center that stood higher than her waist. A large metal pole emerged from the floor and supported the table. The entire circumference of the table had raised edges, with a hose at the head and a drain at the foot area.
The wall straight ahead of her was dedicated to eight freezers, built to preserve and store the dead. She was curious to know if there were bodies in the freezers. The remaining walls contained bookshelves and cabinets, and were all painted a dull white with a dingy finish.
The only other things in the room were a smaller metal table that held the doctor’s work equipment and tools and two tall-legged stools.
Yala’s glare jetted around the room, searching for the something gruesome she’d expected—a badly mangled body or some other horrific scene—guaranteed to stick in her mind long after she’d moved on to the next horror. A glass box was the only object that sat atop the doctor’s table. Inside was what appeared to be a human torso.
The box reminded her of one of those glass cases magicians claim they could make things disappear out of. She glanced in the doctor’s direction for an explanation.
When he turned and locked them in his exam room, Yala’s chill returned and shimmied a two-step up her spine. She inched closer to the table. A closer look confirmed a shirtless torso on display inside the box. Although she wore a thick jacket, she swiped her hands up and down her arms attempting to chase away the chill that wouldn't go away.
She didn't miss the edge of concern in Dr. Hughes voice.
“Male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years old.”
He stopped his brief, abruptly.
“Agent, before I continue, I want you to observe and tell me what you see.”
She wandered around the table, observing and inspecting. The torso was cut so that the arms remained attached but the head and lower body was missing. She spun in place, twice, searching for the rest of the body; but the head and lower body were nowhere in sight. The musculature of the torso confirmed the doctor's account that the victim was a male. The area where the head and lower extremities should have been were cleanly separated.
Why isn’t there any blood? Where is the rest of the body?
The bottom of the box appeared to be wooden, like a hardwood floor, while all other sides, including the top, were glass. A small latch on the top would open the box.
She tapped on the ominous box, confirming it was glass, not plastic. The torso’s neck and stomach areas were severed and oddly frozen in place, held by something she couldn’t see. The body’s innards were as they should have been displayed, if the body was whole. The veins, intestines, and other parts she couldn’t name had been severed cleanly, making this display look more like artwork than an actual human torso.
She took in what must have been the spine and backbone, surrounded by hues of red, black, and dark browns of the surrounding organs. The backbone peeked, revealing itself as the pillar of strength it was; but in this setting, it resembled a ghost, peeking from the shadows.
Yala craned her neck and squinted, hoping more focus would help her find answers. The skin was peachy and not ghost-white like it should have been. Death had a way of draining every ounce of the spark that made a person human—color, temperature, and character.
She glanced back at the doctor, but didn't saying anything.
He glared at her, likely gauging her reaction.
She proceeded with her inspection but with spiked intrigue.
She tilted her head. A side view of the box showed the severed neck only inches short of touching the glass encasement. The mystery of what kept the victim’s insides from oozing out was something for the doctor to explain.
She scrutinized the display. Her face lingered close to the box and left a fine sheen of mist on the glass. Upon closer inspection, sharp jittery movements within the body part were barely noticeable. Had Dr. Frankenstein finally created his masterpiece? Dr. Hughes would be able to explain what she saw.
“What do you see?” Dr. Hughes asked, keeping his eyes on the box.
Yala tucked a lock of hair behind her ear before taking a steadying breath.
“I’m not sure. Science says guts and blood should be all over this box, yet this body part is intact.”
She glanced back at the doctor with squinted eyes. Was he intentionally holding back answers?
“Where is the rest of the body? Are you storing the rest in the freezer?”
“This is it,” he said, pointing at the torso.
Yala avoided the doctor's gaze. She didn't want to say what she thought.
“It appears there is still life in there. Were you
able to determine a cause of death? What am I looking at, Doc?”
Dr. Hughes cupped his chin and eyed her for an awkward moment.
“I called Top because I can’t explain this, yet. Not only is this section of the body intact; it is alive. There is life inside that torso.”
She glared at the doctor and released an uncomfortable laugh.
“Come again, Doc?”
Had he lost his mind?
The doctor used subtle hand gestures to help express his words.
“I ran tests, took x-rays as best I could, observed, listened, and did research on it. Not only have I found a heartbeat, everything on—and in—this torso is functional. There are no visible signs of decomposition; and if it weren’t for the note attached to the box, I would have mistakenly opened it.”
She glared at the doctor as apprehension stiffened her body.
“Doc, you’re telling me this body part is living without a head and lower extremities?”
She paused, for effect, before continuing.
“Dr. Hughes, you are held in high regard among the secret agent community. I mean no disrespect, but have you been drinking the wrong kind of Kool-Aid?”
Yala made her face show reluctance, but she was sure she couldn’t hide the intrigue, shining in her eyes. She’d noticed what the doctor attempted to explain, but she didn’t want to accept it.
The doctor dragged his fingers through his short salt-and-pepper beard.
“After I took x-rays from the outside of this box, I used my stethoscope and borrowed the ultrasound device from the hospital to listen and attempt to see what’s happening inside that box. There is a heartbeat, and blood is flowing through the arteries and capillaries just as our blood normally courses through us. I didn’t take a chance on piercing the glass; but I managed, after several tries, to get a medium gauge needle through the thin wood bottom. I was able to retrieve a tiny piece of skin and a blood sample, which proves the tissue is not decayed and is from living flesh.”
Body Box: Adult Paranormal Romance (Supernatural Thriller) (Dark Suspense) (The Smoke & Fire Series Book 2) Page 1