Cache 72 (A Jaxon Jennings' Detective Mystery Thriller Series, Book 2)

by Richard C. Hale

  “It still doesn’t mean I did all this. Yeah. I hurt. It’s never gone from me. Not one day goes by I don’t think about her and her mother, but I’ve forgiven them. I can’t carry that burden too. It would be too much.”

  “That’s exactly right. It would be too much. You’ve kept your silence for too long and it finally got the best of you. I know you can’t let it go, but don’t take it to this level. Tell me where she is. She doesn’t deserve to die too.”

  “I’m telling you I don’t have any idea where she is. I don’t even know who would be doing this.”

  Jaxon sat back.

  “I’m supposed to presume your innocence. You’re not guilty until proven.”

  “As a cop you don’t believe that,” Fanucci said and looked him square in the eye.

  “That’s right. You don’t either.”

  “In this case, you’re wrong. The only thing I’m guilty of is abusing my sick leave. I was at my brother’s, hung over.”

  “I’m sure your brother will corroborate that story.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “What about before? This has been planned and worked on for quite a while. I’m sure you don’t have an alibi for all that time.”

  “Nobody’s asked me for it. Look, I’m always here at work, or I’m at home. I don’t do anything else.”

  “Live alone?”

  “Yes. I haven’t remarried.”

  “The other day, when you came up on me at the GeoCache site, what were you doing?”

  “I told you then, we got a complaint about a trespasser on the property. You. It’s in the log. You can check it.”

  “Why me?” Jaxon asked.

  “Why you, what?”

  “Why choose me to send on this hunt? My wife thinks it wasn’t random.”

  “I didn’t choose you. I didn’t choose anyone. I don’t have anything to do with this, but if I were to guess, you damaged something in somebody’s past and it’s returned to haunt you. Maybe you need to look a little harder at yourself.”

  The door opened and the sheriff stood in the opening.

  “Time’s up, Jaxon. Let’s go.”

  Jaxon stood and turned to go.

  “You know I didn’t do this,” Fanucci said. “Find who did and get me out of here.”

  Jaxon turned back and studied the man. “You said it before. I don’t know shit.”

  He walked out and the door closed behind him.

  CHAPTER 26

  Ray was feeling the lack of sleep now.

  He couldn’t even remember the last time he had gotten any shut-eye, and he knew he was working on the fumes of his burnt out brain cells. He could hear them frying in his skull. A steady, low hum or crackle that seemed to radiate from the center of his head. He’d never been this tired.

  Mel complained it was too cold in the car, but he needed the AC blowing on him to keep him from dozing off. She was curled up in a ball in the back seat with her arms wrapped around herself, shivering.

  Gil had asked him repeatedly to let him drive, but he had refused. The kid had a suspended license. He was not legal to operate a motor vehicle in this state or any state. He shook his head again, trying to clear the cobwebs and thought to himself for the fiftieth time why he cared if the kid had a license or not. It wasn’t like Ray had remained an honest, law abiding citizen over the last twenty-four hours anyway. Hell, he’d even shot somebody and he had no idea if the guy had survived or not.

  His eyes went out of focus and he blinked, trying to clear them. When they remained blurry, he panicked and shook his head violently. The humming in his brain rose in volume and then receded again as his vision cleared up. He looked at Gil who was staring at him.

  “Let me drive, man,” he said. “You’re going to kill us.”

  “No.”

  “Come on! It’s my car. I could report it as stolen.”

  “Go ahead. Then none of us will be driving and the girl will be dead. You don’t have a license.”

  “I do—it’s just suspended. I drive all the time.”

  “I’m a law enforcement officer. If I let you drive knowing you did not have the proper credentials I would be in a shit load of trouble.”

  “You’re already in a shit load of trouble. And you’re a glorified zoo security guard.”

  “Gil,” Mel said.

  “I’ll have you know I have the authority to arrest anyone, and I mean anyone, regardless of jurisdiction. Do you know what that means?”

  “No.”

  “It means I’m a ‘zookeeper’ with the right to kick your ass all over this highway and it would be legal.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Keep pushing, kid.”

  “I’m not a kid. And I’m just trying to help.”

  A horn sounded and Ray looked up to see that he was drifting off the road. He corrected hard and another horn blew.

  “Ray,” Mel said. “Let me drive then. You need some rest.”

  Ray considered this and looked in the rear view mirror at her reflection. She had a pleading look on her face and her teeth chattered in the cold air. He was freezing too, but it was keeping him awake. He turned to Gil.

  “All right, kid. You drive.”

  Gil grinned as Ray pulled over to the shoulder and they did the Chinese fire drill thing. Ray climbed in back and leaned up against the door window, closing his eyes.

  “You can turn the temperature back up,” he said. “It’s freezing in here.”

  “No shit,” Gil said and adjusted the air.

  As Ray drifted off, he had one other thought. “Don’t speed.”

  “I’m on it…”

  Gil’s voice trailed off as Ray blacked out.

  * * *

  Ray woke three hours later as they pulled off the interstate into West Palm Beach, Florida.

  The sun was going down. He sat up and winced in pain as his neck protested its new position. Three hours leaning up against a door was not the best thing for one’s vertebral alignment. He felt like he’d been through a wood chipper. At least the humming of his dying brain cells had ceased.

  “You’re awake,” Mel said, looking back at him and smiling. “Feel better?”

  “A little.”

  He rubbed his neck and winced again when the car went over a pothole and his neck shifted unexpectedly. She saw his pain.

  “You probably have a bad crick in your neck. Here, let me fix it.”

  She climbed over the seat and put her hands on his neck before he could protest and she manipulated his head in a way that his neck cracked loudly. The pain was immediately gone.

  “There.”

  He looked at her and smiled.

  “That was amazing. How’d you do that?”

  “My mom was a masseuse and she taught me. She worked for a chiropractor.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She climbed back up to the front and settled back in.

  “How far?” he asked.

  “A few more miles,” Gil said.

  “We should eat something.”

  “Ok.”

  They stopped for a bite at a fast food restaurant just outside of the main drag on the beach and ate cheeseburgers. Ray thought they were the best he’d ever had. Either they were really that good, or his brain was misfiring. Probably the latter.

  They piled into the car again with Ray driving and Gil manning the GPS.

  Heading south, they arrived at an address that Ray questioned at first, but then when he thought about it, it made sense. No one would be bothering this cache site.

  They parked outside a chain link fence that encircled Nathan B. Forrest High School. The fence was rusted and leaning in places and Ray found a hole at the north end of the school where they entered the property.

  The place was a ruin. The fading light made it appear like the haunted remains of some insane asylum. The wind whispering through the broken windows and scattered trash elicited a response from his subco
nscious he thought he outgrew in adolescence. He was creeped out.

  Mel stayed close to Gil, and Ray watched her put her arm around him as they stood outside the main entrance. They all looked up at the three story building. Not a single soul was around and even the rundown neighborhood they were in seemed deserted. Maybe this one was going to be easy.

  “Are we close?” Ray asked, and his voice, sounding suddenly loud in the silence, made Gil and Mel both jump. Gil held the GPS in his good hand and indicated with his bandaged one that they were to go inside.

  “About seventy-five feet. That way,” he said.

  Ray placed his foot on the first of five steps overgrown with weeds, and made his way toward the main door.

  One half was still intact, but the other stood ajar, hanging crooked on one hinge and blocking the way in. Ray grabbed one end and lifted. The old hinge that was still hanging squealed in protest and then gave way. The door dropped to the concrete with a thud. Something shifted inside the gloom of the building and Ray heard it skitter off. Mel leaned into Gil and held onto his arm.

  Ray pulled his flashlight out and turned the beam on.

  The entrance to Nathan B. Forrest High School beckoned them inside and Ray stepped over the door and into the dilapidated institute of once mediocre learning. He wondered what had happened to cause this place to fall to ruin. School budget cuts? Neighborhood gone to hell? Space invasion? He decided it really didn’t matter.

  He panned the light around inside and it flowed across dusty green and yellow tiles that were probably once white. Trash, leaves, and other detritus littered the floor and spread out in a fan from the entrance.

  As the light penetrated deeper, the trash thinned out and was replaced with graffiti. It plastered the walls, floors, and even the ceiling. He wondered how the hell they got up there. To the right, an old counter stood sentinel over a faded door that read ‘Main Office.’ An old sign hung sideways on it that read ‘All Absences Must Be Excused.’ Under it in black marker were the words, ‘Fuck you.’

  Ray moved in deeper as Gil and Mel stayed close behind. Their shuffling feet echoed in the silence. Somewhere in the distance they heard the tinkle of glass fall or shift. Ray froze. He shone the light around down the halls that were now on their left and right, but nothing moved. They waited a beat, but no other sound could be heard except their anxious breathing.

  A stairwell led upward to the next floor directly in front of them.

  “Which way?” Ray asked, his voice loud in the silence.

  “Left,” Gil whispered. “About fifty feet.”

  Ray moved to the left and entered a long hallway that used to house lockers and posters on the walls, but now only supported old wire, holes, and more graffiti. The remnants of a small campfire sat cold and dusty against the scorched wall next to an ancient water fountain. Above it, an old clock stuck out from the wall up high and the hands were forever frozen at 3:31. He didn’t know if it was a.m. or p.m. The glass lens of the clock had been spray painted with purple paint that looked almost as old as the clock itself.

  “I wonder how long this place has been deserted?” he said.

  “Who knows,” Gil answered, whispering again. “It feels old.”

  “It gives me the creeps,” Mel said.

  They moved further in and distant music could be heard. The bass thump of a radio grew louder as a car passed by outside. It faded quickly and the oppressive silence returned. They came to the end of the hall and stopped.

  “This should be it,” Gil said.

  There was nothing here. No lockers, doors, windows, shelves, water fountains, nothing. It was just a wall at the end of a hallway. Ray shone the light around as they looked, but it was so stark and bare it didn’t take long to determine that it wasn’t here. They stopped and looked at each other and then Ray looked up.

  “Does that GPS have elevation?” Ray asked, staring at the ceiling. It was stained from a water leak somewhere above but no graffiti had made it this far down the dark hall.

  “No. We’re not receiving enough satellites to get altitude.”

  “We’re going to have to check all the floors then.”

  Gil nodded and they moved back to the main entrance and the stairwell.

  Ray took the first step and some distant rustle came to their ears from above. Something squealed and then little tiny feet ran off away to their right along the ceiling.

  “Rats,” Ray said.

  “Great,” Mel answered and looked quickly around as a shudder passed through her.

  “Do you want to stay in the car?” Ray asked.

  She shook her head. “I’m not staying by myself around here.”

  He nodded and started up.

  The steps were worn and cracked in places, but the stairwell seemed sturdy enough. It was built of concrete and block and would probably still be standing a hundred years from now. The railing was not in good shape and as he grasped the ancient wood, it broke loose and clattered down the stairs loudly, dust rising up in its wake. Something heavier than a rat shifted above their heads and then was silent. Ray did not like that. He glanced at Gil and Mel and started up again.

  The stairs rose to a half landing and then doubled back to the left to reach the second floor. The darkness seemed even less penetrable as the little bit of light that leaked in downstairs through the open door and windows was non-existent up here. Any windows were behind classroom doors.

  A feeling like he was being watched came over Ray and he panned the light left and right down the bleak hallway. Nothing but trash and broken furniture made an appearance inside the beam. His Spidey senses were tingling but nothing jumped out at him. Gil and Mel came up behind him and stood to his left. Gil pointed right.

  The light from his flashlight led the way down the hall and though no graffiti greeted them up here, the discarded leftovers of a hasty retreat lay strewn around the floor and inside open classrooms. Broken desks and sagging chalkboards left little doubt that this was once a thriving school filled with teenager’s voices shouting out their independence while teacher’s voices clamored to be heard above them.

  Ray imagined it all. His old haunt was so similar to this, that if the lights were on and the halls filled with kids, he just might mistake it for the place of his youth. Were they all the same? It seemed every state had a standard blueprint for education and each institution was stamped from the same mold. He could probably find his way to the cafeteria or the gym, and the clinic was probably in the same place. These old buildings built in the 40s and 50s were all the same. Things didn’t start to change until the 70s when everybody’s consciousness awakened and the new era of openness and peace reigned. Too bad that had been a load of crap too.

  Ray moved off to the right and headed for the end of the hall.

  Classroom doors stood on either side of the aisle and even some of the lockers were left up here. Things scrabbled and skittered away inside a few of them. Ray had no desire to look inside. Mel squealed behind him and he turned the light toward them to see a rat the size of a small cat run off and climb through a hole in the floor. She buried her face in Gil’s shirt.

  “It’ll be ok, Mel,” Gil said. “It’s gone.”

  “How long do we have to stay in here?” She asked into his neck.

  “Just a little longer. When we find the cache, we’ll leave right away.”

  She nodded and pulled away from him but kept hold of his arm.

  At the end of the hall they found the same thing as the first floor. Absolutely nothing.

  They searched for a minute in what little places they could see that might house a cache, but it didn’t take long to realize it wasn’t here.

  “I guess we go to the third floor,” Gil said.

  Ray led the way back to the staircase and started to climb. He remembered not to touch the railing. As he reached the switchback at the half landing, an odor assaulted his nostrils and he stopped. Gil and Mel came up next to him and smelled the same thing.

&
nbsp; “God, that’s rank,” Gil said.

  Ray recognized the smell of death right away and if it was this strong it was not a rat or dog. Something big was dead up there.

  “Maybe you two should stay here,” he said.

  “No. We’ll be all right. And you shouldn’t go up there alone. That noise. Who knows who, or what, is up there.”

  “It’s not the boogeyman,” Ray joked, but nobody laughed.

  Gil shrugged in the glow of the flashlight. Mel looked terrified, but said nothing.

  Ray proceeded up the last half-landing and reached the top floor. The smell was unbearable. Mel gagged and then pulled her shirt up to her face and held the cloth over her mouth and nose. She didn’t seem to care that her bra was showing. Ray was not excited about what they might find up here.

  Ray panned the light around the third floor. It looked very similar to the second. Broken desks and chairs lay littered around the floor and some of the classroom doors were even added to the trash. Classrooms lay in wreckage and most of the glass in these windows was broken out.

  To the left, a huge stack of desks and chairs was mounded in a heap blocking the way down that hall. Ray had no desire to try to get through it. He moved right and as he passed the second open door on the left, he paused.

  He shone the light back inside and was shocked at what he saw. He stepped to the doorway as Mel and Gil came up behind him.

  The classroom was set up just as if it were still in session. The only thing missing was the students. The desks were those combination chair and table numbers with a small storage shelf under the seat. They were lined up in rows facing the front of the class and some even had books and folders shoved inside. The teacher’s desk was in its place with a few knick knacks on the desk’s surface and a lamp that remained dark.

  The chalkboard behind the desk was still attached to the wall and looked to be in good shape. There was even some writing in chalk on it. It said, ‘Welcome students. I’m Mr. Shawnessy.’ A few maps and posters hung on the wall and even a brief class synopsis hung handwritten on a poster. Apparently Mr. Shawnessy taught history.