Mortal Eclipse

by David Brookover

  Danforth was speaking, and Nick refocused his attention on the video. Danforth declared himself a Democratic candidate for President. Obviously, Neo had submitted Danforth’s background check to Justice Department. At least the clean version.

  Rance stopped the VCR. “I taped this tonight. How do you think this ties in with your Creeper investigation?”

  Nick rubbed his burning eyes. He desperately needed sleep. “Honestly, I don’t have a clue. But I will.”

  “Fair enough.” He paused. He’d been waiting for the perfect time to bring up Crow’s departure. “I take it that you heard about Crow.”

  Nick was immediately wary. Crow was his ace in the hole, and he didn’t want to reveal his intention to rendezvous with the computer wizard. The more people who knew a secret, the faster it became known. He trusted his boss, but not the agents he shared information with.

  “Yeah. Tough break for our department. I wish him the best though.”

  “Then you don’t plan to work with him on this Creeper business?”

  Nick thought quickly. “Since he’s not classified any more, I’m not sharing squat with him.”

  Rance studied Nick’s face for signs of the truth. He couldn’t be certain, but he had a feeling that Nick was deceiving him. At least he hoped that was the case. Accepting Crow’s resignation was another part of his covert plan with Lynn Baker. Crow and Bellamy were best of friends who had solved numerous cases together. He wanted Crow away from Bureau facilities where the Creeper and his inside allies couldn’t easily keep tabs on their investigation. At least that was the plan. Rance would have to rely on his keen insight into human nature to pull it off, and he knew those two agents better than his own sons. If he were a betting man, Rance would bet the house on them getting together to solve this nasty Creeper business.

  Rance tapped the console. “Nothing you’ve seen yet will prepare you for the next video I’m about to show you.”

  Nick perked up and brushed aside his exhaustion.

  “I confiscated this little gem from the Wharton Clinic. Watch carefully.”

  The surveillance tape was dated this morning, and the action was depicted in real time in reversed white numerals in the upper right corner of the frame. This must be the tape, Nick thought, that Doctor Wharton swore showed no sign of an intruder in the clinic. The guard posted at the front desk was leaning back in his chair behind the counter, reading a People magazine. The time display indicated that this scene occurred about fifteen minutes before Nick’s arrival. Suddenly, a blurred image appeared on the left side of the frame, and continued swiftly over the desk and through the doorway. The guard never stirred from his reading.

  “Stop! Rewind it back to where the blur goes over the counter, and freeze it.”

  Rance obliged. Nick examined the blur so closely that his nose touched the screen at one point. There wasn’t as much picture clarity on the videotape, as there was on the digital DVD, but he could make out a brown shadow. It wasn’t much of an image, but it was enough for Nick to recognize. The Creeper! His earlier supposition had been right on target.

  Nick also noted the size of the blurred image before it reached the counter, when it was above the counter, and once it passed by. The size remained constant in all three positions!

  “It’s as if he floated over the counter,” Nick told Rance. “If he had jumped over, he would’ve crouched before springing, and his image would’ve shrunk during that instant. But as you can see, it doesn’t.”

  Rance leaned forward. “I hadn’t noticed that. You’re right!”

  “What is this guy?” It was a rhetorical question.

  “Rolling again,” Rance announced.

  The tape rolled on to a camera view of the corridor outside Jimmy’s room. With growing incredulity, Nick watched the blur enter the picture at the bottom, and pass a nurse pushing a patient in a wheelchair in the opposite direction, but neither gave any indication of seeing the Creeper. A cleaning woman emerged from Jimmy’s room, and walked right past the entering blur, but didn’t even give him so much as a brief glance. Nick’s throat tightened.

  “We’re in trouble!” he exclaimed as Rance stopped the video. He stared blankly into the night beyond the car window.

  “See what I mean?” Rance asked.

  “Son-of-a-bitch! He can make himself invisible!” Nick’s voice was barely audible. “Now how are we supposed to deal with that?”

  “You got me there, but that’s why I’ve got you on the case.”

  “How did Wharton’s security people miss that?”

  Rance leaned back and crossed his legs. “They thought it was a system malfunction. I have a copy of the work order they faxed to the security company that services their system. Everything seems on the up and up there.”

  “Nothing is what it seems on this case.”

  “Listen, Nick,” Rance said several minutes later, “I want to know where this freak came from, and what his connection is to Senator Danforth. I imagine that will take you to Ohio.”

  Nick recalled Rance’s warning at their morning meeting to stay away from Ohio. How did he find out about Jill Sandlin’s phone call? He decided to play it cool and find out.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t play coy with me, Nick. Our lab team come across a phone number on your caller ID, and traced it. It was made from Duneden, Ohio about the time of your mysterious room quake.”

  Nick chortled. “You don’t miss a trick.”

  “And you’re getting careless. Lay off the booze while you’re tracking this Creeper of yours. This guy is . . . something else.”

  “Indestructible?”

  “God, I hope not,” he replied soberly. “By the way, this is a priority one investigation, so I’m increasing your expense account.”

  Nick turned from the window. This was another unexpected development. “By how much?”

  Rance’s held up the Wharton Clinic videotape in his hand. “Carte blanche.”

  Chapter 25

  The SUV’s headlights swept the midnight blackness, and came to rest on a battered steel gate. Jill Sandlin climbed from her car and inspected the padlocked chain dangling from the left gate. The padlock was secure, but the chain had been cut.

  That was odd, Jill reflected. She had instructed Valerie Jacobs to use the key hidden in the fence post to open the padlock, so she wouldn’t have to wait along the open road alone at night. The heavily wooded, ten-acre lot would easily conceal her car from any passers-by, and the cabin offered refuse from the marauding mosquitoes. Maybe Valerie had forgotten where the key was hidden, but then what would she be doing with a bolt-cutter in her car?

  Jill scanned the area, but outside the headlight beams, the world was all deep shadows and tree silhouettes. A chill erupted along her spine, and she clutched the small pouch nuzzled between her breasts – Gabriella’s protective charm. Glenna had tied the rawhide necklace and charm around her neck an hour ago, blessed it and again attempted to dissuade Jill from meeting Valerie without her grandsons tagging along. Jill refused to budge. This meeting was her destiny. The end of her lifelong search for the truth about her father’s murder. Danger be damned.

  Jill shoved the gate open. She was going in.

  The SUV banged along the uneven, bumpy private road that snaked through the thick woods and splashed across a shallow creek where the road suddenly smoothed out. Shortly a massive oak appeared, and as Jill swerved the SUV around it, the cabin came into view. Amber light smoldered in the front two windows like demon eyes.

  A minivan was parked outside the front door, and Jill guided her SUV to a stop beside it. The minivan and license plate number were just as Valerie had described over the phone, and Jill breathed easier. She chastised herself for letting Glenna’s visions give her the willies.

  The door opened a crack, and a wedge of light appeared at Jill’s feet.

  “Is that you, Jill?” a hoarse whisper asked.

  “It’s me,” Jill replied. “Valeri
e?”

  The door was pulled back and a woman’s frame stood on the threshold. “Were you expecting someone else?”

  They laughed, and Jill moved forward. Valerie stepped aside.

  “Come in,” Valerie said. “I’ve got a lot of surprises for you.”

  Inside, the cabin was stuffy and dank. Most of the one-story, log structure was a great room with an open kitchen occupying the back half and a sitting area the front. Two green sofas faced each other, and white plastic end tables, each supporting a green beanpot lamp, conjoined the ends of the couches. A square plastic coffee table filled most of the space in between the sofas. A laptop computer and cell phone attachment lay open atop the coffee table.

  The magic charm warmed against Jill’s chest, but in her excitement, she ignored the sensation.

  Jill smiled broadly. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” She offered her hand, but Valerie refused it.

  “I’m afraid I’m a bit of a obsessive-compulsive,” she apologized.

  Jill absently rubbed her suddenly achy forehead. “Don’t sweat it. I see you keep your notes on your computer.”

  Valerie pointed for Jill to sit on the couch opposite her. “Not really.” She tapped the cell phone. “Computers and disks can be stolen, my dear, so I keep the file at my Internet e-mail site where I can download it when needed.” Her fingers pecked the keyboard clumsily, and Jill heard the low Internet connection tones.

  “I appreciate your coming all the way out here from Montana, Valerie. As I explained on the phone, all I’m looking for is the person responsible for my Dad’s murder, and his motive.”

  “I can certainly give you both.” She noticed Jill scrutinizing her every move. “The reason I stored that terrible history at my e-mail site is that my brain isn’t what it used to be. I’d forget my own name if I didn’t carry identification in my wallet.”

  They both laughed, as they waited for the file to download. Jill rubbed her forehead again and frowned. This was no time for a headache. She needed her wits if she was to ascertain that she had every missing piece to the puzzle before she bid Valerie goodbye.

  “Speaking of forgetting, I see you forgot where the padlock key was hidden,” Jill mentioned. “I was kinda surprised when I saw that you’d cut the chain on the gate. How’d you manage that?”

  Valerie’s smile sank. “Why dear, it was cut when I got here. I thought you cut it.”

  Jill’s eyes flitted about the cabin and out the windows. “Somebody got here before us!” Jill exclaimed, finally noticing the heat radiating from her magic charm. “It’s not safe here. We’ve got to go!”

  Valerie remained unruffled. “Just a few more minutes, Jill.” She tapped several more keys and hit enter.

  Jill popped up from the couch, and Valerie scowled at her.

  “Sit down, my dear. You wanted this information, and you’re going to get it.”

  Reluctantly, she sat. “But somebody’s out there. Maybe my father’s murderer! It’s not safe for us here.”

  Valerie continued to stare at the screen and finally nodded, satisfied. “We got cut off, but the file’s downloading again. Just be patient.”

  “But the murderer . . . “

  “SHUT UP!”

  Valerie’s voice developed a raw edge that hadn’t been there earlier. Jill shrank back.

  “I’m sorry, my dear. It’s just that I’ve got this terrible headache from the long drive,” the old woman said, attempting atonement for her outburst.

  However, Jill wasn’t buying it. Valerie’s voice had changed its timbre again, deepening with each successive word. Jill’s fingers were knotted tightly and dripping perspiration, as the charm’s temperature increased. The danger, whatever it was, was closing in fast.

  Valerie rose from the couch. “If you’re so goddammed scared, I’ll go out to the van and get my flashlight and shotgun. Nobody messes with a Montana woman!”

  As she passed Jill, the charmed blistered her skin. Something was amiss! Was this person really Valerie Jacobs or an impostor? After all, she had never seen Valerie before tonight. Anybody could’ve killed the real Valerie and impersonated her.

  She noticed Valerie’s purse on the floor, and quickly stepped around the coffee table and opened it. The wallet inside held a Montana driver’s license with a picture identical to the person who was here tonight. Damn! Jill roughly stuffed the wallet back inside, and clutched Gabriella’s charm close to her chest. The danger was close and pressing in on her. She had to leave now, with or without the information she desperately sought.

  A bloodcurdling scream pierced the silence outside the cabin, startling Jill and sending her over the couch arm onto the floor!

  Jill stood trembling at the door, shouting Valerie’s name, but she didn’t reply. Valerie’s minivan was still parked next her SUV, and those were the only objects she managed to make out in the starless gloom.

  Gathering her courage, Jill sprinted out the door, stumbling once as she ran off the rotting wooden porch. Once inside her car, she reached for her purse, but it wasn’t between the seats where she remembered leaving it.

  “Oh shit,” she swore, realizing that she had left her purse inside the cabin. She switched on the headlight high beams and followed them through the darkness to the cabin. It was quiet and ominous. Jill tiptoed around the couch, and quietly grabbed her purse off the floor, afraid to attract Valerie’s assailant’s attention; then, she ran hell-bent-for-leather back to the SUV and locked the door. Her eyes strained to penetrate the surrounding darkness, waiting for the intruder to burst into the light and come after her. Thankfully, the engine started the first time, and after backing it away from the cabin, Jill floored the accelerator, and the SUV jolted forward.

  It slid around the massive oak, splashed through the shallow creek, and bounced wildly over the lumpy road toward the gate. Jill slammed her foot on the brake pedal, and the SUV fishtailed to a sideways stop.

  Someone had closed and chained the gate!

  Jill’s fists pounded the steering wheel. What was she going to do? The stranger could be out there, waiting for her to get out of the car, and open the gate before rushing from the darkness and overpowering her.

  Suddenly, a dark figure appeared to float across the drive on the opposite side of the gate. Jill’s breath froze in her throat. Oh God, he was out there, and she was all alone, miles from the nearest farm. Stuck out there with no weapon.

  The charm warmed. She crushed it tightly between her palms.

  “Oh, Gabriella, what does this thing do? Will it protect me from a slasher? A sicko rapist? Will it make me bullet proof?” Jill gulped air as she spoke aloud. “Is it only good for demons? What if the guy out there isn’t a demon? Gabriella, help me!” she shrieked.

  There was no response.

  Jill imagined the stalker circling to the back of the SUV where he would break the window and pull her out into the horrifying night. She clamped her eyelids down. Think, Jill, think, for godsake!

  There was a rustling in the thick brush to her right, and a flock of birds screeched, fluttered, and took wing to locate another nocturnal roost. Her eyes snapped wide open, as she shredded the stillness with a long, panicked scream. Her quivering hand shifted the gear to Drive, and her foot stamped on the accelerator pedal. The SUV crashed through the gates, metal screeching against metal, but Jill barely noticed. At least she’d be alive to argue with her insurance agent in the morning.

  Jill abandoned her SUV in the middle of Main Street, and stumbled up the steps to Glenna’s front porch. Her finger pressed the doorbell repeatedly, until Glenna answered the door and gently pulled her finger away from the button. She fell into Glenna’s arms, lost for words amid heaving sobs.

  It took Glenna twenty minutes to calm Jill down enough to make sense of what she was saying. Her next move was to call 911, and report Valerie’s disappearance.

  The Highland County Sheriff, Judd Farrell, returned Glenna’s call in less than two minutes.

  �
�My report says that you and Jill Sandlin are reporting the disappearance of one Valerie Jacobs. Is that correct, Glenna?” he asked.

  “You got it right, Judd,” she replied.

  “Well, that’s damn interesting.”

  Glenna stiffened. She sensed trouble, and motioned to Jill to pick up the extension phone. “I figure you’re going to get around to telling me why before breakfast.”

  “I reckon. Your report’s peculiar, because one Valerie Jacobs was found murdered this afternoon, her throat missing, out by Moody Jamison’s farm.”

  Jill shook her head. “That can’t be, Sheriff Farrell. I saw her tonight out at Sam Bly’s cabin. I met with her. I talked to her, and I even compared her driver’s license picture with the woman sitting across from me. It was Valerie Jacobs, I tell you!”

  “Judd, please check out Sam’s cabin. Jill’s pretty shaken up by whatever happened out there, and her car’s near wrecked from trying to get away from someone who doesn’t belong there.”

  She glanced at Jill. “Quite possibly a murderer.”

  “We’ll check it out, Glenna, but it would help if you and Miss Sandlin met us at the cabin to show us what happened where.”

  Jill’s eyes widened at the thought of returning, but when Glenna looked her way for an answer, she nodded okay.

  Powerful, portable floodlights dispelled the darkness and shadows around Sam Bly’s cabin. Dozens of deputies swarmed the grounds, searching for evidence that would collaborate Jill’s story. Glenna parked her Camry next to Judd Farrell’s squad car. He stood on the porch, and motioned for them to come inside.

  “Thanks for coming out at this godforsaken hour, ladies,” he said.

  “Did you find her?” Jill asked quickly.

  “Afraid not yet, but we’ve really only been here for twenty minutes,” he replied. “But I did find something that might interest you, Miss Sandlin.”