The Mayhem Children (A Project Specter Mystery Book 1)

by Paul Seiple

  Sam took a seat at the kitchen table and rubbed his forehead. “I sometimes see things.” A hint of embarrassment laced his tone. “They’re not really there. I know it.” He sighed. “Getting old really is the pits.”

  Terrence grabbed a seat beside Sam. “You don’t look a day over forty.”

  “I’m old, not gullible. Where’s Kim?”

  “She’s in the hospital.”

  “Did she get shot? Let’s go.”

  Sam tried to stand, but Terrence placed his hand on his knee.

  “She’s fine. She had a little fainting spell today, but she’s OK. They just want to keep her overnight for observations. So it looks like I’m your roommate for the night.”

  “She’s OK?” Sam asked.

  Terrence nodded.

  “You got food?” Sam asked

  Terrence laughed. “Of course I have food. A little birdie told me that you like shredded chicken burritos.”

  “I hope it’s not the same little birdie that talks to me,” Sam said. “That bastard will probably tell you to poison me.”

  Terrence picked up a piece of the broken mug. “Did the little birdie do this?”

  “Hell no. I threw it the son-of-a-bitch to get him to leave.” Sam’s cheeks turned red. “I know there was no one there. I just get so frustrated sometimes.”

  “Tell ya what, Mr. Strode, why don’t you get us a couple of plates, and I’ll go grab the food. And try not to break any this time.” Terrence smiled.

  When Terrence came back in the kitchen, there were two plates and silverware on the table. Sam was sitting with a paper towel stuffed in the collar of his white T-shirt.

  “Don’t judge me. This isn’t an old-age thing. Burritos are messy,” Sam said.

  After dinner, Terrence and Sam settled in the living room and watched a baseball game. Sam bounced between cussing at the television and taking power naps during the commercials. Terrence was bored and tired. Even though he was an All-American athlete, he never cared for baseball.

  “You ever play ball?” Sam asked.

  “Football,” Terrence said.

  “Were you any good?”

  This wasn’t the first time Terrence had the conversation with Sam. He met Sam last year when he became Kim’s partner. Terrence told his story then and again during Kim’s birthday party earlier this year. Terrence gave the abbreviated version since he could hardly keep his eyes open.

  “I did OK for myself. All-American running back at Alabama. National Champion. Heisman Trophy runner-up.”

  “No shit? You go pro?” Sam asked.

  “Spent a year with the Raiders. A couple of concussions later, I decided to give it up.”

  “Smart move, kid. You never realize how precious your mind is until it starts to fail you.”

  “How about you? You ever play ball?” Terrence asked.

  “A little baseball in high school. So why did you choose law enforcement?” Sam asked.

  “I didn’t grow up in the nicest neighborhood. I saw a lot of crime and violence. I made it a point not to be a symptom, but to be part of the cure, you know?”

  “Well, I’m proud of you, kid. And Kim says you’re a damn good detective. I think.” Sam laughed.

  “Can I ask you something, Mr. Strode?” Terrence asked.

  “You can if you call me Sam.”

  “OK, Sam. What do you remember about The Silent Six case?”

  For a moment, Sam didn’t say anything, and then he muted the television. “I remember everything about it.” He sat up in his recliner.

  “Can you tell me anything about Elvin Hayes?”

  Sam stood up and walked over to a dry sink and poured a glass of whiskey. He turned to offer one to Terrence.

  “No thanks, I don’t drink.”

  Sam sipped whiskey and sat back down. “Elvin Hayes was the only man I’ve ever met that I feared.” He drank more whiskey. “I wasn’t afraid of what he would do to me. I was afraid of what he would do to the world if he ever got out of prison.”

  “But there was no chance of that, right?”

  “There is always a chance as long as these bastards are breathing, and the desire is strong enough. Look at Bundy; he escaped and killed more in Florida. God only knows where else,” Sam said.

  “What was it like to come face-to-face with Hayes? I’ve interviewed gang members who’ve murdered people, but never a serial killer.”

  “There was something in his eyes,” Sam said. “You hear people describe killers’ eyes as empty. That wasn’t the case with Hayes. Whenever he looked at you, you just knew he was counting the ways that he could kill you and ranking them on the level of pain each one inflicted,” Sam said.

  “What do you think he did with those children?”

  “I don’t know. I used to want to find out. Give peace to the families. But now, I don’t want to know. He was pure evil. There was not one good quality about Hayes.”

  “Did he practice black magic?” Terrence asked.

  Sam didn’t answer. He stood up and started to walk away.

  “Where are you going?” Terrence asked.

  “I’ll show you something.”

  The journal, Terrence thought. Kim still has it.

  “That son-of-a-bitch took it,” Sam said.

  Terrence stood in the doorway of Sam’s office as the old man rummaged through his desk. Sam held up the .38 his ex-partner gave him and started waving it.

  Terrence ducked back behind a hall wall. “Calm down, Sam. I’m sure whatever it is, we can find it.”

  “Gun’s not loaded, kid. I’m not crazy. That bastard took it.”

  “Who took what?” Terrence eased his way back into the room. He knew what Sam was looking for, but he played dumb to keep Kim’s secret safe.

  “Joey Carpenter,” Sam said, tossing a stack of papers to the floor.

  “Who’s Joey Carpenter?” Terrence asked, picking up the papers.

  “One of the kids Hayes murdered.” Sam stopped tearing through his desk. “Don’t tell Kim. She’ll think I’m crazy. I’m not crazy.”

  Terrence thought back to Kim seeing Jessica Challis through the fogged window. “ I know you’re not crazy, Sam.”

  Seven

  Sara closed her eyes and clutched her stuffed monkey, Zira, against her cheek. The screams danced down the hallway like wailing banshees signaling impending doom. Sara couldn’t remember her parents fighting before the move. If they did, it was under a whisper, away from Sara and her brother. Ben wasn’t trying to hide his rage, and Norma was nearing her breaking point.

  Charlie had a different way of drowning out the arguing. He put on his headphones and listened to Sleeping with Sirens at levels he would regret later in life. But now, he didn’t care. Being deaf would be better than listening to Ben yell at Norma while she cried.

  “My parents used to fight too,” the soft voice said, causing Sara to loosen her grip on Zira. The bed vibrated as though thunder shook the hardwood floor from beneath. A rush of cold air sent a chill over Sara. She pushed up with her feet, bringing her knees to her chest, and sat with her back pressed against the headboard.

  “I’m sorry. Did I scare you?”

  A thick mist appeared in front of Sara, tinging her face with an icy dampness. After several morphs, the shape transformed into a blonde girl about Sara’s age. The girl crept up next to Sara. The chill grew stronger. Sara shivered.

  “I thought you were mad at me,” Sara said through chattering teeth.

  The girl placed her hand on Sara’s leg. Her frigid touch reminded Sara of the time Charlie stuck an ice cube to her neck. She winced. Seeing the pain it caused, the girl pulled her hand back. “I’m not mad at you, but you can’t tell anyone about me. I have to be your secret, OK?”

  “OK. I promise. I won’t say anything, “ Sara said.

  “The yelling scares you, doesn’t it?”

  Sara nodded.

  “It scared me too.”

  “How did it stop?” Sara ask
ed.

  “My father killed my mother. And my brother.”

  A tear trailed down Sara’s cheek. “I don’t want that to happen.”

  The girl wiped at the tear. Her cold touch froze the water to Sara’s face. Sara screamed in pain.

  “Shhh,” the girl said, taking her hand away. The frozen tear turned to steam. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why is your hand so cold?” Sara asked, rubbing her face.

  “It’s been a long time since I had the touch of a human.”

  “You’ve been living alone in this house?”

  “In the attic. But I’m no longer alone. We are friends now, right?”

  Sara nodded.

  “Then we should play a game.”

  “What kind of game?” Sara asked.

  “Hide-and-Seek. But we can’t play inside. Your parents cannot know I am here. If they found out, they’ll make me leave. I don’t want to leave. I like you. We have to play outside.”

  “But it’s dark,” Sara said.

  “That’s the point to Hide-and-Seek, silly. Makes it harder to find you. You hide, and I’ll seek. Let’s go.”

  Sara followed the girl into the hallway and down the stairs. Her parents were still arguing in the kitchen when the girl opened the front door and stepped onto the porch. “Come on, before they see us.”

  Sara hesitated. The sound of her father’s voice nudged Sara onto the porch. She shut the door behind her.

  The girl stood with her back to Sara. Under the dim beam from the porch light, her flesh looked translucent. Her nightgown slid down her forearms when she reached for something on her head. Sara took a step back when she caught a glance of the veins in the girl’s arms. Blue lines slithered beneath the skin like snakes.

  “I’m going to hide my eyes and count to twenty. That will give you plenty of time to find a hiding spot. And remember, you cannot tell anyone about me. Now go hide.”

  “OK, Jess,” Sara said.

  Jessica Challis pulled a black veil over her face, turned, and started counting.

  “You’re the reason we moved here,” Norma said, dropping a dirty dish into a sink filled with soapy water. “You took the new job. Not me. So, stop blaming any of this on me.”

  “This house is going to be a goddamn money pit. There’s no telling what else is wrong with it. Squirrels can do a shit load of damage. Hell, they can eat through the wires and burn this whole fucking place to the ground,” Ben said.

  Norma rinsed a dish and dried it with towel.

  “And that’s another thing, you pay that much for a house, and you would expect it to come with a fucking dishwasher,” Ben said.

  Norma put the dish on a drying rack. “I really wish you wouldn’t talk like that, Ben. You never used to use that kind of language. I don’t want the kids picking it up.”

  “I wish you’d listened to me when I told you what to look for in a house. I thought I could entrust you with that while I was in Japan making enough money to support your daily habit of sitting on your ass.” Ben tossed a plate with a slice of half-eaten pizza on it into the dish water. Soap splashed over Norma.

  “Really, Ben. You couldn’t dump the food first?”

  Ben grabbed the pizza box and dumped the rest of the pizza into the sink. “There. Are you fucking happy now?”

  Norma threw the drying towel to the floor and left the kitchen.

  “Charlie, Sara, time to brush your teeth and head to bed.”

  Neither child responded. Norma slapped the banister with frustration and started up the stairs. She opened the door to Charlie’s room. He was sitting on the bed playing air guitar. Norma moved her hand to her ear. Charlie lowered his headphones to his neck.

  “Music off. Brush your teeth and get to bed. It’s late.”

  “One more song, Mom.”

  Norma turned to leave. “Now.”

  Sara’s door was open. The light was on.

  “Sara, it’s time for bed.”

  There was no response. Norma called to her daughter again. And again, no answer. The bed was unkempt. Zira lay on top of a pillow. Norma opened the closet door.

  “Sara. Where are you?”

  Norma ran to the bathroom, which was empty. She screamed for Sara again. Charlie stepped into the hall. Ben was standing at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Have you seen your sister?” Norma asked.

  Charlie shook his head.

  “Calm down. She’s probably in the bathroom,” Ben said from the bottom of the stairs.

  “She’s not in the damn bathroom. I checked. She’s not here,” Norma said.

  The patrol car arrived less than five minutes after Ben called 9-1-1. Norma ran towards the officers without giving them a chance to step out of the vehicle.

  “She’s gone. My baby is gone.”

  “OK, ma’am. Just calm down,” an officer said, placing his hands on Norma’s arms.

  “Take your damn hands off my wife,” Ben said.

  “Whoa, buddy,” the other office said, putting his hand on Ben’s chest. “Take it down a notch.”

  From an upstairs window, Charlie watched Norma collapse into the officer’s arms. The shuffling of feet followed by a spurt of laughter drew his attention. “Sara, if you’re playing a game, you’re gonna be in big trouble. The cops are here.” Charlie peeked out into the hall. It was empty.

  “We will find her, ma’am. When did you notice your daughter missing?”

  “When we called you, dipshit.” Ben said.

  “That’s enough.” The officer closest to Ben spun him around and cuffed Ben.

  “No,” Norma said.

  “Let me get this right,” Ben said. “My daughter is missing, and you’re taking me to jail?”

  “We’re not taking you to jail, Mr. Tate. You’re being detained. Sit in the back of the car and cool off a bit. I understand you’re upset about your daughter but calling us names isn’t going to help anything.”

  With Ben secure in the car, the officer next to Norma asked, “Does your husband have an anger problem, ma’am?”

  “He’s just stressed.” Norma strained her eyes to read the officer’s badge in the dark. “Officer Starnes. And before you ask, he would never hurt our baby girl.”

  Sara saw the red and blue lights flashing through a small hole in the side of the garden shed, but she didn’t move. Jessica’s warning hugged her tight, “Don’t tell anyone.” Sara found the perfect hiding spot behind an old washing machine. No one would ever find her. Sara stood when she heard her mother crying. The summer air chilled. Sara shivered. Dampness splashed her cheek, mimicking the feeling of running into a spiderweb. Sara pawed at her face.

  “You can’t go out there,” Jessica said.

  “You found me. The game is over,” Sara said. “My mom’s crying.”

  “Good. Maybe her and your father will remember this feeling the next time they decide to fight in front of you,” Jessica said.

  “Sara.” Norma’s voice echoed off the shed’s metal siding.

  “I have to go,” Sara said.

  “Have you checked the shed?” Officer Starnes asked. He tugged on the decrepit door, sending shards of wood to the ground. After a few snaps and creaks, the door opened. Officer Starnes aimed his flashlight into the darkness. The beam caught a glimpse of Sara standing next to the washing machine. “What are you doing in here, honey?”

  Jessica leaned into Sara. “Remember, you cannot tell them about me.” The cold whisper pierced Sara’s ear. She cowered and swatted at her head.

  “Come on, honey. It’s OK. I’m not going to hurt you,” Office Starnes said, extending his hand to Sara. She placed her trembling hand in the officer’s. “You’re safe now,” he said, walking her out of the shed.

  “Baby,” Norma said, running up and hugging Sara. “Why were you out here?”

  Officer Starnes shined the light on Sara. There was a red mark about three inches long on her cheek.

  “I couldn’t take any more of you and Daddy fighti
ng,” Sara said. She was shocked by her words.

  “What happened to your face, Sara?” Norma asked, pulling her daughter in closer.

  Sara didn’t answer right away. The silence left an uneasy feeling in Officer Starnes’s gut.

  “I hit my face getting into the shed,” Sara said. Her ear still ached from Jessica’s cold warning.

  “Did your father hit you?” Officer Starnes asked.

  Sara wanted to say yes, even though it was a lie. She didn’t want to get her father in trouble, but something did. Maybe Jessica. Sara refused to open her mouth. She shook her head.

  “It’s OK. You’re safe now. You can tell the truth,” Officer Starnes said.

  “Ben didn’t hit Sara,” Norma said. Her meek tone grew defiant. “He would never hurt us.”

  “That may be the case, ma’am. But for tonight, we are going to take Mr. Tate in and ask him a few questions,” Officer Starnes said.

  “You can’t,” Norma said. “Ben didn’t do anything.”

  “That may be the case. It’s an uneasy situation here. It’s our duty to make sure it doesn’t escalate to a volatile situation,” Officer Starnes.

  Charlie watched as one of the cops talked to his father, who was sitting in the back of the cop car. Visibly agitated, Ben started to rock back and forth, bouncing the cruiser around. Norma placed her hand on the window of the car as Ben screamed something that Charlie couldn’t make out through the glass. Norma hugged Sara and walked towards the porch as the police car backed out of the driveway with Ben in the backseat.

  A chill wrapped itself around Charlie’s leg and moved up his body, paralyzing his right side. He tried to turn his head, but his neck wouldn’t move. He shifted his eyes. A girl with a black veil over her face was standing beside him holding his sister’s stuffed monkey. She lifted the veil. The left side of her face was bone. Rotting flesh drooped on the right side. She opened her mouth, filling the air with the pungent odor death. “You’re all going to die in this house,” she said before fading into a mist.

  The monkey fell to the floor. Charlie regained feeling in his right side. There was a tingling sensation that felt like thousands of little needles pricking his flesh. He braced himself against the window until the pain subsided. The death smell lingered, making sure he didn’t forget Jessica’s Challis’s warning.