The Steve Williams Series Boxed Set

by J. E. Taylor

  Santana begged me. She begged me not to hurt the children, not to harm them, but I couldn’t help it. I had to find out how far down in the dark the soul went before it gave up. I had to find out if the last moments of life brought peace.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t get answers that day despite the screams. Screams that still echoed off the walls of the mansion’s basement, much like the lost souls here in my morgue.

  The almost imperceptible sound of iron scraping metal reached my ears and pulled me from my reverie. This arrogant bitch will serve my purpose, my revenge for being forsaken.

  * * * *

  Jessica woke to darkness and pain. Her chest constricted with every breath, each rise and fall sending jolts of pain through her shoulder. The steel under her was cold against her skin and her left arm clasped the table above her head. Fear laced her mouth, dragging her back fifteen years to the concrete prison where she met Chris. The iron shackles clasped around her right ankle and left wrist stung with their chill, like they had been doused in ice. She assumed her right wrist and left ankle were clasped in the same manner but they were numb, the bite of the cuffs lost with the pain.

  “Bastard.”

  As if triggered by her voice, the lights went on.

  He sat in the chair across the room, in full scrubs. His legs crossed and his wrists casually resting on his knee. The doctor stood and crossed to her, his dark eyes scanning her with contempt.

  Jessica blinked and her gaze landed on the dog in the center of the room. The dog gnawed on a limb and it took her a moment for the reality to sink in. The dog ripped a patch of skin and muscle, chomping and swallowing, taking a second to lick his chops before he continued. The dog was eating a human arm. A moan welled from her chest and she lifted her head, staring at the stump where her right shoulder should have been.

  The doctor laid his hand on her flat stomach and she jerked, her eyes darting to him. His fingers ran suggestively lower, tangling in the small web of pubic hair and stopping. “Nice work,” he said, nodding toward the perfect Brazilian cut. He ran his hand back to her belly button, studying her.

  Jessica’s eyes welled with tears, tears of fury. “You stood by consoling me, saying you were doing everything possible to find the bastard who took my son and all this time it was you?”

  “My brother has a knack for compassion. I don’t.” The doctor’s lips twitched into a smile and he reached for the sheet covering the instrument table, drawing it back for her to see. “I try not to over feed Alex but this puts me in a hell of a quandary.”

  A severely damaged lower leg sat on the table, the knee shattered from a bullet. Her knee. Her leg and she now understood the lack of feeling in her left ankle. Jessica clamped her eyes shut, counting to ten, and forcing her stomach to abide.

  “My little patients don’t usually satisfy his appetite, but with this,” He waved at the severed leg, “he’ll be at it for the next few hours.”

  “They’ll be looking for you.”

  His laugh was rich and deep. “Somehow I doubt that. I plan on giving them something to keep them busy for a while.”

  His cavalier attitude mixed with his cold merciless eyes frightened Jessica more than Frank Aris had. “You’re a sick fuck.” The growl in her voice was enough to bring Alex’s head up from his treat.

  He chuckled drawing a scalpel from behind his back and twirling it in his fingers. “Did you know that the uterus is one of Alex’s favorite delicacies?” He set the blade on her abdomen and with a wink, he puckered his lips. Whistling, he drew the blade down her abdomen, slicing through flesh and muscle.

  White hot pain gripped her and Jessica screamed. In the distance, she heard Tommy’s guttural roar. With each flick of his wrist, more agony gripped her lower abdomen and she couldn’t scream loudly enough to voice her suffering. This was something she couldn’t fix. This was something she couldn’t walk away from. This was something she wouldn’t escape.

  Darkness would have been a blessing, instead, she screamed until her vocal chords shattered and all she had left was a harsh whisper.

  The site of her reproductive organ in his hand and the smile crinkles around his eyes filled her with rage, but the throbbing in her abdomen sucked what was left of her strength, each beat of her heart straining her chest and echoing in her lower belly. The copper smell of blood and feces filled the room.

  Her screams faded and darkness accompanied the pulls as he stitched her up, resuming the incessant whistling. Whistling that followed her to silence.

  Chapter 54

  Chris stood over Jessica, tears spilling down his cheeks, his wings trembling as he looked at what that bastard had done to her. Her breath raspy, hollow, shallow, and as sporadic as her heart beat. She had lost so much blood, too much.

  Screams erupted from the other room, but Chris didn’t look away. He knew it wasn’t Tommy. Not yet.

  “Jessie.” He ran the back of his hand over her cheek. “Oh, Jessie.”

  A long exhale wheezed from her lungs and Chris waited.

  “Hold on, baby.”

  No inhale came, just a small stream of bright blood tinged urine and then nothing. No flutter of the eyelids, no inhale, no heartbeat, nothing. Just death.

  Chris stepped away, spinning on his heel and taking flight, bellowing his anger at the gods above.

  Chapter 55

  Tommy sobbed soundlessly; his eyes squeezed shut, his heart pounding like a locomotive in his chest. His mother stopped screaming a while ago and Annalee had started. The air in the room shifted, a cold draft flowing over him and he shivered, opening his eyes. Shock, anger, despair all volleyed for dominance as he looked into his mother’s opaque face.

  “I promise, you’ll walk out of here, Tommy,” his mother said and leaned over, showering him with sparks of light, pressing her lips to his forehead. “I promise. Just hang in there, help is on the way.”

  He blinked and her image faded. “No!” The word formed perfectly despite the absence of his tongue. He yanked at the chains, thrashing, violently, screaming and slamming his head against the stainless steel.

  Weak from his outburst, Tommy continued to sporadically thrash, the screams giving way to sobs, his body covered in a sheen of feverish sweat and the headache pounded in time with his heartbeat.

  The whistling came again and this time it got closer, but Tommy didn’t care. He was beyond caring, until he saw what was in the good doctor’s hand.

  The doctor set Jessica’s head on the end of the table by his feet, facing him. The eyelids stitched open, her dead eyes forever gazing at Tommy. “I figured you might want your mother.”

  CJAAYYYYY!

  The thought screamed in his head, threatening to burst through his skull and for a fraction of a second, he felt his twin, and then all went black.

  Chapter 56

  CJ shook, he couldn’t help it, even in Jennifer’s comforting arms, he trembled, her vision still emblazoned in his mind. His sobs muted in her shoulder, but his eyes wide open and staring out at the Atlanta skyline. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever close them again.

  “I’m so sorry, CJ,” she repeated over and over and over, rocking slowly, tears tracking down her cheeks at the violent memory of his mother being sliced at the hands of the madman.

  CJ clung to her, clung to hope, and clung to what remained of his sanity.

  Hope and sanity shattered when Tommy’s voice barreled through CJ’s mind and he stiffened in Jennifer’s grasp. His sob stopping in his throat at the vision accompanying the scream.

  A low rumbling started and everything in the room vibrated with it. Jennifer’s wide-eyed gaze shot to CJ.

  Despair transitioned to an uncontrollable fury and he struggled to break free of her grasp.

  “CJ, don’t!” Jennifer held him tighter. “Please don’t!”

  The first thing to shatter was the table, and it exploded into a million tiny shards, the picture frames on the wall followed and the drywall began to crumble.

  Jenni
fer, terrified at his swirling power, sent a silent cry to her husband, and held onto CJ, knowing he had heard the distress call too.

  Chapter 57

  Steve slammed on the brakes, pulling to the side of the road and closed his eyes, allowing the transition to take hold.

  “CJ!” The command barreled from his throat and he stared at Jennifer, holding onto the boy for dear life.

  CJ’s head turned and Steve felt the mental shove, stumbling back a few steps. “Stop this now!”

  “Mom is dead.” His eyes narrowed and the chunks of the ceiling peeled off the studs, falling around Steve.

  “Ty, please help me here,” Steve whispered.

  The angry flutter of wings surrounded him. You’re on your own.

  Steve tensed, his jaw tight and his lips pressed together. He took a deep breath and focused on CJ. “You need to get control, CJ.”

  The picture window behind them cracked and a great spindly web permeated the glass.

  Steve crossed the room, ripping CJ from Jennifer, gripping his arms and picked him up, holding him at eye level. “Stop this now.” His eyes bore into CJ.

  CJ’s chin quivered, but his eyes still held fire and destruction in them.

  “I’ll find the bastard, but I can’t if you’re destroying the hotel.”

  The trembling stopped, and with it the pressure in the air. Tears brimmed from CJ’s eyes, streaking his already wet cheeks. “My mom…”

  Steve nodded, understanding fully what CJ was experiencing, it coursed through his veins as well. “I know.” He set the boy down and wrapped his arms around CJ, glancing at Jennifer. When he pulled away, he knelt down, wiping CJ’s face. “I promise I’ll find him, CJ, but I need you to chill until I get back, okay?”

  “Kill him,” CJ growled.

  He’d like nothing more than to do that, but he knew better. Steve shook his head. “Not unless I have to.” Or I lose control.

  CJ glared at Steve. “Kill him.” This time he whispered the words, trying to impart his influence on Steve.

  “You can’t influence a spirit, CJ,” Steve said and closed his eyes, feeling the transition take place and when he opened his eyes, he was back in the car, staring at the busy freeway.

  Steve rubbed his face before glancing at the list. Two more homes left. He switched the car in gear and prayed they weren’t chasing their tails.

  Prayed it wasn’t a state cop with a carving fetish.

  Chapter 58

  I wrapped what was left of her mutilated body in cellophane and slipped the grotesque bundle in the hidden, plastic lined trunk of my cruiser.

  “This ought to slow them down some,” I said, chuckling at the irony as I slipped into the front seat, my uniform covered in a camouflage coverall stained with dry blood.

  Whistling, I headed toward Grant Park.

  It was still early and the entry kiosk was empty. I pulled to the side and stared at the gate, debating whether I should enter a pass code into the keypad or jimmy the lock. I decided on the former and flipped open the roster, scanning the list until my eyes locked on the perfect patsy. I punched in his number and waited for the gate to open.

  I backed the car right up to the gazebo and proceeded to sculpt an art formation they wouldn’t ever forget.

  Chapter 59

  Steve pulled into the driveway and whistled. Lieutenant Danforth’s estate was stunning with an expansive lawn, a gazebo that lead to a pool right out of architectural digest, an oversized garage with four bays and what looked like a guest cottage on the fringe of a lake at the far side of his property.

  Plenty secluded.

  His feet touched the cobble stone driveway and his cell phone rang, shattering the quiet call of the mourning doves.

  “What’s up?” he asked, scanning the yard.

  “Grant Park,” Cleary said. “Get your ass over here now.”

  Steve tilted his head, siphoning information from his boss’s mind. “An adult?”

  “Yep. Female.”

  Steve closed his eyes and hung his head, slipping behind the wheel again. “I’m at Danforth’s house and still have one more stop after this.”

  “Who’s on your list besides Danforth?”

  “Gagnon.”

  “Danforth was the first to arrive onsite. Gagnon still hasn’t arrived. I need you here. You can follow up on your hunches after.”

  “Okay, I’m on my way.” Steve turned over the ignition and rolled out of the driveway.

  Twenty minutes later, he stood over the gruesome statue. The well-manicured hand protruded from the neck, stitched in place of a head and the hand formed the now famous bird. Taunting them.

  A wedding band glinted in the late sunrise, a beam of light dancing off the diamond in a bizarre light and prism show. The naked torso propped on a single foot and Steve wondered if it was surgically stitched in place or if there was a leg embedded inside the body. His objectivity fractured and he had to turn away.

  He inhaled and exhaled, counting each breath and praying he was wrong. He met Cleary’s gaze and closed his eyes. “Where’s her head?”

  “It’s not on the grounds here.”

  “He’s mocking us,” Steve said.

  “I’d say so,” Cleary said and jutted his chin toward the sculpture. “Anything there to identify the body?”

  “The rings,” Steve answered. “I believe hers was inscribed if I recall correctly.”

  “If you recall? What the fuck does that mean?”

  Steve met his gaze. When I got this super-charged shit—I got their memories, too.

  Annoyance flashed in Cleary’s expression and he pressed his lips together in disgust.

  “You asked,” Steve said and waited for the forensic team to give the all clear. The moment they dispersed, Steve turned and held his breath, stripping the bands off her severed hand and turning the rings so he could read the inscription.

  All my love always & forever, Ty.

  Steve closed his fist around the rings and stared at the remaining pieces of Jessica Ryan. He took a few steps to another picnic table and took a seat, twirling the rings on the table to take his mind off the lump in his throat.

  Jessica was the last vestige of friendship he had and seeing her carved into such a frightening display would give him nightmares for months to come. If he hadn’t coerced her to let him bring CJ down here, none of this would have happened.

  Cleary took a seat opposite Steve. “Jack did happen to give me a little background on you before he died and right now I can see exactly what he was talking about.”

  Steve shot his gaze at Cleary.

  “He said you have a tendency to blame yourself when things go wrong.”

  Steve raised his eyebrows and waved toward the pavilion. “Well, this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t insisted on bringing CJ down here.”

  Cleary pressed his lips together and then nodded. He glanced at the butchery and back to Steve. “But you didn’t do this. You’re responsible for bringing them to Atlanta, but you had no control after that.”

  “I don’t buy that.”

  Cleary’s gaze dropped to the sparkling wedding band on the picnic bench. He picked it up and studied the inscription. When his gaze leveled with Steve’s, his jaw tightened. “She married him?”

  Steve nodded and Cleary clenched his fist.

  “When exactly did you figure this out?”

  “I needed him Ron…”

  “—Don’t give me that shit. You took an oath.”

  “I know I did, but…”

  Cleary held up his hand. “Right now I don’t want your excuses. I want you to find this bastard and nail his ass to the wall before we find her kid in the same circumstances.” He waved toward the grisly scene. “Think you can do that?”

  Steve remained silent, and nodded. “Who was first on the scene?”

  “Danforth.”

  Steve pressed his lips together, raising his gaze and letting it drift over the officers in attendance before they f
ell on Lieutenant Danforth. Considering the distance from where he lived, it made sense. “How’d he get in?”

  “He used his code to open the gate, but it was opened earlier by none other than Officer Gagnon.”

  That comment snapped Steve awake and he scanned the crowd. Gagnon wasn’t there.

  “There were two houses left on the list. Gagnon’s and Danforth’s. I think I should pay Officer Gagnon a visit.”

  Cleary nodded and leaned closer. “You pick anything up from the officers?”

  “Not really. Everyone is pretty much stewing over this.” Steve waved his hand toward the group of officers. “I can’t get a read on a couple of them, but that’s normal.” He glanced back at the group an inhaled.

  “Who can’t you read?”

  “Lieutenant Danforth, Officer Jaberry and Officer Hicks. They’re just blanks at this moment.” He turned toward the posed carnage. “She’s the freshest kill they’ve found and doesn’t fit the profile, so they’re probably just mulling that over.” He returned his gaze to Cleary, his own mind trying to wrap around it.

  “How did she end up dead?” He leaned forward. “The last time I saw her she was alive.”

  Steve stared at his boss ignoring the unspoken accusation and then his eyes widened. “Shit.” He palmed his face. “I left the list on the table last night.”

  “So she could have left in the middle of the night and not early this morning like her son thought.”

  Steve sighed and nodded.

  “Go check on Gagnon. He wasn’t on duty last night either.”

  Steve pulled in front of the address on the paper and scanned the condo complex. This wasn’t right and he spiked the paper on the floor. Gagnon lived in a thousand square foot duplex. There was no privacy here and Steve swore. If Gagnon was their man, the kids weren’t here.

  Even so, he approached the door and rang the bell.