by K. J. Dahlen
It was also strange that she should feel a link with his victims. These women had families and husbands, possibly children. They didn’t deserve to be dumped anonymously into the ground where no one but the killer knew where the bodies were buried.
They didn’t deserve to go unmourned. These women deserved to be found and their killer brought to justice. Michael had left clues to the places where he had buried his victims.
Somehow, someway, she had to let the proper authorities know where these women were, so they could be given a decent burial and their families would know what happened to them.
Jessie weighed the pros and cons of what she knew she had to do. She should just call the police and give them the information. She also knew Michael would see that as a betrayal of the worse kind. She didn’t want him coming after her.
She had to come up with a way to discover his victims by chance. She could go scout the places on the abandoned farm described in the journal to see if they existed. If they did, then she would decide what to do.
Jessie picked up the journal and reread the first passages again. If she were going to do this, she would need to find the right places and know enough about where the bodies were buried to let someone know where to look.
Michael wrote in vivid detail the exact location of his conquests. He even wrote a little about each woman he encountered. The first woman in the journal was named Michelle Wymen.
Michael wrote that Michelle had been his first victim in a long time. He wrote that it had been awhile since he took a life. He went on to say that he met her in a diner in the town of Whiskey Bend, Wisconsin.
Chapter Two
She got here the day before and had taken the time to familiarize herself with the town and hopefully, find some kind of reference point to start her search. She’s made a copy of the journals and then hid the original books. She didn’t put them back where Michael left them, instead she put them where only she knew they were. She felt that was her safeguard and if the evidence was ever needed, only she would know where it was.
Michael claimed she was a waitress at a diner where he had stopped to get out of the cold. Michelle was her name, but he said she looked more like an angel. Her hair fanned out like angel wings. Her natural womanly scent was heavenly, her smile made her face glow, and he’d fallen in love with her in an instant. In his own words, she read:
With her first words, I fell under her spell. She warmed the cold October wind blowing right through to my bones. The cup of coffee she set in front of me tasted like nectar.
I was waiting for a ride home when she asked me where I was going. When I told her, she said she knew my hometown. She lived here in Whiskey Bend, and I asked her to show me her town. We crossed the road and went up a hill. We went into the woods above the city. The air was cool and crisp, yet when I was with her, I didn’t feel the cold. She laughed and joked as she led the way. She promised to point out her favorite spot. She said she would come here often and keep watch over her town and its people.
Yes indeed, this spot would do very well. Deep inside a wooded glen, I made my move. Her laughter turned to scorn almost immediately. Her cruel laughter grated my shattered nerves. Where the knife came from, I don’t remember. All I do remember is her blood spilling over my hands.
How warm it was, how it stained her clothes and mine. how surprised her eyes appeared, as she looked into mine. I watched as the light inside her slowly faded and was saddened by the fact that my angel was gone.
My angel would remain forever in my heart, where she belonged. Her final resting place is right there where she ended her time here on earth, marked by three mounds of rocks. She will remain forever, keeping watch over the town she so adored.
Jessie shivered as she read the words he had written. She hoped for Michelle’s sake, that death had taken her quickly. Michael almost seemed reluctant to end her life, yet he did so without regret.
Perhaps if she had died as a result of a disease, her death could be accepted, but to die like this, at the hands of monster, for no apparent reason, it all made it unbearable. And Michael was a monster, Jessie recognized that much from his own words. She had to do something. She had to see for herself where Michelle was buried. Glancing at her watch, she noted that it was too late to go to Whiskey Bend this afternoon. It was a three-hour trip over there and it would be dark by that time. She wanted to see the place in the daytime. She would need all the light she could get to find the exact spot where Michelle was buried. She didn’t want to be discovered by anyone either, so she knew she would have to be careful.
*
It was barely seven a.m. when she left her room at the B&B. Although Michael’s words had been written as far back as ten years ago, she hoped they were still valid. She had read his words again this morning and had drawn out a rough sort of map.
She’d spoken to the owner of the River Bend Bed and Breakfast where she was staying the night before. She asked about the land at the top of the bluff behind the town. Mrs. Sayer told her to stay clear of there. She said there was a motorcycle gang living up there and they didn’t like the people trespassing on their land. They probably wouldn’t hurt her but the whole town stayed away from them for a reason. They looked rough and some rumor had it that they booby-trapped at least part of their property.
She didn’t know if all that was true or not but she wasn’t looking for trouble, she only wanted to verify Michael’s own words. She didn’t know why this was so important to her but she had to know if Michelle Wymen was buried in her favorite spot, under a rock formation.
The day before she had stopped in at the diner Michelle worked at. The sign said Darrel’s Diner and like the rest of the place, the sign was faded from days past. The outside of the diner was old and needed a fresh coat of paint but someone had taken the time to fix it up the best they could. Judging by the number of cars in the parking lot, the patrons didn’t mind the conditions. Each space was full and Jessie had to wait a few minutes to be able to park her car.
Stepping out of her vehicle, she had another good look around. Turning back toward the town, she saw the wooded area above it and the hill Michele and Michael must have climbed. Shading her eyes against the sun’s glare, Jessie wondered if she would find Michele’s final resting place, up on that hill.
She went inside the restaurant. As soon as she entered, she could smell the aroma of fresh baked bread. Jessie groaned. She loved fresh baked bread, warm from the oven with lots of melting butter, sometimes with peanut butter.
Inhaling deeply, she walked over to the counter and sat down.
The waitress grinned then without a word, turned and began cutting a loaf of bread. She put a couple of warm slices on a plate and brought them over to Jessie, along with a tub of butter. “Hi, you look like you need a bread fix.”
“Yes, please.”
The waitress motioned toward the coffee pot.
Jessie indicated her answer and as she poured the coffee, Jessie noticed her name tag. “Thank you, Margie, but how did you know I needed a slice of bread?”
“I’ve seen that look on other people’s faces. As soon as they come through the door, they seem to transform.”
“It does smell like heaven in here,” Jessie commented.
Margie grinned. “Yes, it does, doesn’t it? Enjoy your bread.” As she moved away, she grabbed the coffee pot and began filling coffee cups all the way down the counter.
As Jessie ate her bread, she took the time to look around the diner. She caught sight of a poster hanging on the wall just left of the main door. It looked almost like a wanted poster.
She walked over to the poster to get a better look. When she got closer, she could see that it was indeed a wanted poster. On it was the picture of a young woman, named Michelle Wymen. The poster listed her height, her weight, last known address, and the clothes she was last known to be wearing. The last thing it listed was the date she was seen last. The date Jessie knew by heart. It was October the twenty-first, almos
t ten years ago to the day.
She just stared at the picture of Michele for a long time. The longer she stared the more Jessie felt a bond grow between them, as she was probably one of two people who would ever know what happened to Michele.
Just then, Margie the waitress came over to where she stood and nodded her head at the poster. “I’d forgotten about that poster.” She grimaced.
Jessie looked at the poster, noticing a strong resemblance to Margie. “Did you know her?”
Margie just stared at the photo on the poster. “She was my younger sister.”
“Do you have any idea what happened to her?”
Margie turned slowly and looked at Jessie. “The rumor is, she ran off with some guy, but I know that isn’t true. I think she’s dead.”
Jessie cocked her head. “What makes you say that?”
Margie turned and looked at the poster again. “I knew Michele. She would never worry her family if she were alive. Even if she had run off all those years ago, she would have called us to let us know she was all right. She never called.” Margie paused glancing out the window. “She’s dead and it’s my fault.”
Jessie heard the softly spoken words and couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “How do you figure that? You certainly didn’t kill her, did you?”
Margie turned to look at Jessie. “Of course not, but the day she disappeared, she was covering for me. I was sick that day and Michele came into work for me. The last time anyone saw her was when she left the restaurant. If she hadn’t been here, she wouldn’t have disappeared. “
Jessie could see the guilt and pain in Margie’s eyes.
They say that a person’s eyes are the windows to their soul, and if that were true, Margie’s soul was in a lot of pain.
Jessie knew there was nothing she could do or say at this time. She couldn’t bring Michele back from the dead, but she could bring her back to her family. She could ease the pain in Margie’s eyes and maybe in time erase the guilt.
She turned and walked back to the counter where her purse laid. She began rummaging through it for the cash to pay for her bread and coffee. Margie walked up behind her and laid a hand over hers.
Jessie could see the tears in her eyes but Margie wouldn’t let them fall.
Jessie couldn’t stand to see her in this kind of pain and pulled her into a hug. She didn’t know why except that sometimes it just felt good to know there was someone out there that understood, even if you didn’t.
Margie returned the hug briefly and then backed away, she wouldn’t look her in the eyes, but did pause long enough to whisper the words, “Thank you,” to her before she hurried down the length of the counter with the coffee pot.
Thank you was all she said but those two little words touched Jessie’s heart in a way nothing else had. She picked up her purse and walked to the door. Pausing a moment to look back at Margie, she found her looking straight into her eyes.
Margie’s eyes were full of questions that Jessie had no answers for at the moment, but she hoped to have them soon. As she exited the diner, her eyes were drawn to the hillside across the highway. The longer she stared at the hill, the more she knew the answers were there if she had the courage to go and find them.
She glanced back at the diner as if to ask for Margie’s permission, but she couldn’t see through the tinted glass. Had she been able to she would have seen a very puzzled Margie looking back at her, trying to guess what she was doing.
*
A day later, she followed their footsteps of ten years ago. Michael had given extreme details in his diary and for that, Jessie was grateful. When she came to a three string, barb wire fence, she ducked under it and made her way through the wooded area.
At first, she didn’t know what she was looking at when she finally reached the bench made of stone. It was a natural setting, yet it stood out in the woods. Three large boulders sat in a triangle pattern and on top of them was a flat stone. Had someone at some time in the history of the town put the stone there or had nature intended it to be there the whole time? She couldn’t tell for sure and wouldn’t hazard to guess. Slowly, she stepped toward it, her mind so fixed on Michael’s writings.
She didn’t know there was a man dressed in jeans and a t shirt along with a leather vest right behind her until it was too late to stop what happened next. She didn’t even have time to scream as the huge muscled arm wrapped around her throat and squeezed tightly around her neck. She struggled against her assault but couldn’t break free of his hold. She couldn’t breathe or draw air into her lungs and before long, she saw black spots as her body shut down. She felt the panic one always feels when they are about to lose their life and for a moment she fought against it, then she stopped struggling and slid into oblivion and he let her slide to the ground in a heap.
*
Jinx wanted to leave her where she lay but he knew he couldn’t do that. He glared at the intruder and cursed, then he picked her up, threw her over his shoulder, and carried her off to his all-terrain vehicle.
Throwing her into the second seat, he got behind the wheel and took off toward the clubhouse. Lucifer would be mad, but the townsfolks usually left them alone. He looked over at her and frowned. He knew he hadn’t seen her before today and that only led him to wonder what the hell she was doing in their woods. Surely, the town had warned her about them. Most everyone knew the club owned this land and most of the time the townspeople stayed away. They left well enough alone when it came to the Hell’s Guardian Warriors.
A few minutes later, the clubhouse came into view and Jinx turned his four-wheeler toward the front door.
Chapter Three
Nick Leroy otherwise known as Lucifer was sitting down at a table in the main room of his clubhouse sipping a cup of hot coffee when he heard the sound of Jinx’s four-wheeler pull up outside. He was a tad hung over this morning and not really feeling up to Jinx’s bullshit. He was feeling each and every one of his thirty seven years this morning. He knew he desperately needed a shower and coffee though.
He was enjoying one of the two when the front door opened and a shaft of light penetrated his sight. Lucifer winced and shielded his eyes as the man himself walked in. He frowned at Jinx when he walked over to where Lucifer was sitting and dumped something that hit the floor with a thud at his feet. Lucifer looked down and his frowned deepened. “What the fuck did you do?” he asked when he saw the woman on the floor. He ran his fingers through his thick black hair and stared at the other man wearily.
“I found a trespasser.” Jinx growled as he slammed a backpack down on the table in front of Lucifer. He was a man that didn’t like other people. They claimed PTSD did that to a man, but he hadn’t changed that much with or without PTSD. He was happiest being left alone and didn’t mind who knew it. The only people he could tolerate were the brothers he lived with here at the compound. His brothers were aware of his displeasure and treated him accordingly. But this was a new one, even for him.
“I can see that.” Lucifer nodded. “Why did you bring her here though? Why didn’t you just dump her on the other side of the fence line?” He paused then added, “Where did you find her anyway?”
“She was all the way by the old bench marker.”
The bench marker was well within the property, a long way from the fence line. Not many people knew it was even there.
Lucifer frowned and looked down at the woman lying on the floor. Her long auburn hair was spread out on the wood. Her eyes were closed, and he wondered if her eyes were green or blue. He shook the odd thought away. Who cared?
Then he wondered what she had been doing so far inside their property? Looking over at Jinx, he smoothed his short beard and asked, “What was she doing there?”
Jinx shrugged. “I don’t know but she had a funny look on her face. Like she was dreading being there but there was no one with her, she was just staring at the damn bunch of rocks. I mean what the hell is that about? Far as I know, it’s just some stupid rocks. Ain’t
nothin’ special about it.”
Lucifer thought on that for a moment then looked down at the woman again. Just what the hell he was going to do with her he wasn’t sure. Jinx should have taken her back down to the property line and dumped her over it and left her be. She would have come to on her own and gotten the hell out of there.
He got to his feet and stretched to his usual height of six and a half feet. His massive arms reached for the ceiling as he eased out the kinks in his body. He’d had a rough night filled with bad dreams and nightmares as per usual and he felt tired this morning. He just didn’t want to have to deal with this shit. He glared at Jinx. “How long has she been out?”
Jinx shrugged. “About ten minutes or so. She may not come around for about another twenty minutes.” His choke holds usually put people out about half an hour, forty five minutes at the most. But that was on men, he didn’t usually put women out with them. “You want me to just leave her there or carry her somewhere else?”
Lucifer thought for a second. “Take her down the hall and put her in my room. I want to talk to her before I decide anything and I need a shower.”
Jinx raised an eyebrow at his suggestion but he bent over to pick her up off the floor then carried her down the hall to the President’s bedroom.
Twenty minutes would give him enough time to shower the stench of his nightmares off and get rid the booze haze from last night.
Jinx laid her on the bed and turned to leave the room.
Lucifer went over to the dresser to search for some clothes. Before he headed in for the shower, he locked the bedroom door, slipping the key above the door for safekeeping. He didn’t want her escaping before he had a chance to talk to her in case she recovered from Jinx’s head lock before he was done.
He wanted to get a shower in before he had to deal with her. Stepping into a steamy hot shower Lucifer let the water flow over his achy body. His whole body hurt this morning. He stepped under the spray and closing his eyes, he let it hit him in the face and run down his neck and chest. The hot water soaked his long hair and he shook his head to make sure his hair was wet. He groaned as he felt the warmth hitting his throbbing head.