The Secrets of Taylor Creek

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The Secrets of Taylor Creek Page 23

by Michael Merson


  “They’ve already found three bodies, and there may be more,” Steve explained.

  “Yeah, all right, I’ll leave in the morning.”

  “Good. Someone from the Escambia County Sheriff’s Office will meet you at the airport.”

  “All right, but before you hang up, did you send me a text right before calling me?” Jaxson asked right as Overton ended the call.

  He looked at the text message once more and saw that it originated from a private number. Once again, he thought of everyone that he knew with the initials SKO and still, there was nothing except his boss Steve Overton. Jaxson didn’t know his middle name. He shook his head and decided that it wasn’t something he needed to focus on right now.

  Jaxson got online and made his flight arrangements. He quickly packed his suitcase and went to bed so that he could get some sleep before catching his early morning flight. As he laid there trying to fall asleep, he once again found himself thinking about the text message.

  “Who is SKO?” He asked himself.

  Roses in the Sand

  Prologue

  Agent James Carter sat naked in the wooden chair, trying to collect himself. His thoughts were confused, he was disoriented, and he was tied to the chair. But his biggest concern was the man that sat across from him. Agent Carter briefly looked around the dimly lit room but couldn’t find anything that would hint to his location. From what he could see, there was no window, no door, and no sounds coming from outside the room. Agent Carter could feel cool air blowing across his body from the vent over his head that seemed to be sucking the air from the room. As the air moved from the floor to the ceiling, he felt cool at first, but then he became warm as his body began to burn in different places along his arms and legs.

  “Well you got me here; now what?” Agent Carter asked.

  The man sitting across from him did not answer. He just sat there, observing his prey.

  “Aren’t you going to say something, or are you one of those serial killers that get off on trying to scare your victims before you kill them? Because if that’s the case, plan on being disappointed. I’ve accepted the choices that I’ve made in my career, and I knew this situation was a possibility when I decided to join the task force to hunt you down. I came to terms with what could happen a long time ago. So, I’m not screaming or begging just to entrain the likes of you.” Agent Carter explained as he tried to adjust his legs and hands that were tied tightly in place.

  “I don’t plan on trying to scare you, Agent Carter.” The man answered, breaking his silence.

  “So, you’re not going to kill me?” Agent Carter asked suspiciously.

  “Oh, I plan on killing you, Agent Carter. As a matter of fact, you’re dying right there in that chair within the next few minutes.” The killer remarked in a deep, clear, and confident voice. Agent Carter knew it was him. Him, being SKO, the serial killer who had already killed two other agents before Agent Carter was assigned to track him down. Agent Carter had spoken to SKO numerous times over the phone, and he thought he had gotten to know him. He also thought he was about to capture the killer right before the killer caught him.

  Agent James Carter had been tracking the infamous serial killer for six months. As he sat there recalling the night’s event, he shook his head angry at himself. He knew that he had let his guard down last night, and that’s when SKO made his move and got the drop on him. The liquor, the woman, and the atmosphere of the evening was too much. They were going to be his downfall. SKO was the moniker that the serial killer had given to himself some months back. The number of people SKO had killed was unknown, but it was over three, and three victims were all the FBI needed to label him as a serial killer.

  “How are you going to do it? Are you going to cut my throat like you did to Agent Wilks, or are you going to bludgeon me to death like you did to Agent Bellows?” Agent Carter asked in a now dry, raspy voice. His throat was becoming hoarse, and he felt his eyes starting to burn just like the other parts of his body.

  “No on both assumptions. I have something special in mind for you.” SKO answered as he stood from the chair and moved closer to Agent Carter. Agent Carter saw him get closer, and that’s when he noticed that SKO was wearing a spit shield, rubber gloves and that he was covered from head to toe in what appeared to be a rubber suit.

  “What are you wearing? Are you planning on stepping outside the box and killing me in one of the many ways the drug cartel does it? Maybe you have a chainsaw somewhere behind you with my name on it? C’mon when we getting started? I’m not begging! I won’t give you the satisfaction! YOU CRAZY SICK FUCK!” Agent Carter yelled from the confines of his chair.

  “I’ve already started Agent Carter,” SKO answered calmly.

  “What do you mean? What did you do to me?” Agent Carter asked as the burning in his body began to worsen just as dark bruises started to surface along his arms.

  “I’ve given you something Agent Carter, and it’s starting to work,” SKO explained as he moved closer to his victim for a better look.

  “I was close to capturing you?” Carter screamed through the intense pain.

  “You were never close! You simply followed the road that I laid out before you. Now it’s time for me to move onto another opponent.” SKO advised the dying agent.

  “What… What’s happening to me?” Carter struggled to ask.

  “The tissue in your body is eroding. In other words, you’re bleeding from the inside out. When the chemical has run its course throughout your body, you’ll be nothing more than a liquid mess on the floor while your bones will still be intact in that chair. Well, that’s what I was told would happen by the man who sold it to me, anyway. I’m actually excited to see if it really happens.” SKO explained as he walked around the chair, observing the visually melting man.

  “Wait…” Agent Carter said out loud.

  “Wait? Are you begging? I thought you said that you weren’t going to do that. Now, I’m disappointed in you, Agent Carter.” SKO admitted despairingly.

  “I’m… I’m not begging. Where did this stuff come from?” Agent Carter asked.

  “Does it matter?” SKO asked back.

  “To me, it does.” Agent Carter admitted right before his left eyeball slipped out of its socket and fell to the floor.

  “Let’s just say I got it from, the man from Medan,” SKO answered softly as he pushed a pencil into Agent Carter’s leg.

  “You’ll never find anyone better than me!” Agent Carter managed to say as the skin on his face began to slowly slide downward.

  “Very little pain from what I gather. Very interesting!” SKO said as he continued to observe the dying FBI agent. “By the way, I’ve already found someone else. I’m sending him to Pensacola, Florida. I’m interested in seeing how he performs on the case down there.” SKO explained and walked away just as Agent Carter’s face completely slipped off the bone and slid down his chest into his lap.

  Chapter 1

  “Jerry”

  Pensacola Beach, one of the three small communities that make up Santa Rosa Island, had been evacuated two days prior to the arrival of Hurricane Jerry, a category three hurricane. Yesterday morning, three hours before Hurricane Jerry was scheduled to make landfall, the National Weather Service downgraded Jerry to a category one hurricane. Deputy Brian Porter was assigned to patrol the residential and public areas along Pensacola Beach east and west on Via De Luna Drive from Fort Pickens Road to public parking Lot H. Deputy Porter had been awake for twenty-four hours running from one call for service to another assisting twenty to thirty citizens that had refused to evacuate the island after getting advanced notice to do so prior to Jerry’s arrival. During his shift Deputy Porter broke up one hurricane party at the high-rise condominiums on the west side of the island, ordered three small business owners to leave or get arrested, and to top it all, he rescued one terrified Shih Tzu puppy from the rising waters. The dog’s collar identified the brown and white puppy as ‘Pumpkin’ who had
become Deputy Porter’s partner for the remainder of his shift.

  Deputy Porter was tired, overworked, and irritated. By the time he backed his green and white cruiser under Todd’s beach house on Ariola Drive, he was all too ready to fall into a deep sleep. He placed the cruiser in Park, locked the doors, and grabbed Pumpkin from the passenger seat. He made his way into the dark beach house, sat down on the couch, laid back, and closed his eyes with Pumpkin resting comfortably on his lap. The beach house belonged to Todd Smith who was an old high school friend of Brian’s and Todd had given his friend Brian, the deputy, permission to use his beach house if he needed too during the storm. The wind blew the rain against the side of the beach house as Deputy Porter quickly sunk deeper into unconsciousness. It was about twenty minutes past midnight when Tina, one of the county dispatchers, called out for Deputy Porter over the radio.

  “4 Adam 38,” Tina announced and then waited a moment for Deputy Porter to answer.

  “4 Adam 38,” Tina announced a little louder once more over the radio.

  “4 Adam 38 go ahead,” Porter answered half asleep as he sat up.

  “4 Adam 38, I know it’s been a long shift, but we need you to respond to 1616 Ariola Drive in reference to a possible DB,” Tina advised.

  “Roger. Did I copy that correctly? It’s a possible DB?” Deputy Porter asked. He knew that a DB was the acronym for a Dead Body. Porter wanted to make sure that he had heard his dispatcher correctly.

  “That’s correct.” She answered.

  “Is there a reporting party?” Porter asked.

  “Negative the call came in anonymously.”

  “Anonymously! Really?” Porter asked, surprisingly.

  “Roger 4 Adam 38. I don’t have another unit clear right now, but as soon as I do, I’ll roll one your way for cover.”

  “Don’t send a cover unit. I’ll advise when I get there. I’ve been on Ariola all night, and there’s no one out here but me. It’s probably just some prank caller. I can’t see anyone finding a DB this late at night especially since there isn’t anyone out here but me and my partner.”

  “Partner? 4 Adam 38, I was told that you were alone unit tonight,” Tina remarked.

  “I am, I’ll explain later. Go ahead and show me en route.”

  “Roger 4 Adam 38. By the way, the DB is supposed to be under the house near the back.”

  “Roger.”

  “Roger 4 Adam 38. 2425 hours.”

  Deputy Porter stood up, stretched, held Pumpkin under his arm, and then walked back out to his cruiser. The night air was cool, the strong seventy-five mph winds from Jerry blew the rain in from the Gulf of Mexico as a brilliant flash of white light streaked across the dark sky followed by loud claps of thunder. Deputy Porter took a deep breath and held Pumpkin tightly as another flash lit the night followed by another clap of thunder just above them. Deputy Porter quickly unlocked the passenger door and placed Pumpkin in the passenger seat. He then walked out to the end of the driveway where it met the road and looked down it through the darkness toward 1616 Ariola Drive. All the residents had been evacuated, and all the power was out along the island. There should not have been any visible lights for miles along the island, but there on the south side of the road, Porter noticed a small light moving about from the road to the beach house. He squinted his eyes and tried to see through the darkness when suddenly another flash of light streaked through the night sky, revealing the silhouette of someone holding the light. “Hmmm, who is that?” Deputy Porter said quietly.

  Going back to his cruiser, Porter climbed inside, petted the frightened pup, and then used the radio to call dispatch once more.

  “4 Adam 38.”

  “4 Adam 38 go ahead.”

  “4 Adam 38, Dispatch why don’t you go ahead and start another unit this way. It looks like there could be someone out here.”

  “4 Adam 38 are you on scene?”

  “Negative. I’m just down the road from the beach house, and I can see someone moving around carrying a light.”

  “Roger 4 Adam 38 I’ll get a unit headed that way, but it may be a little while.”

  “Roger. I’ll continue to the house. It’s probably just a homeowner who refused to evacuate. I’ll keep you advised.”

  “Roger 4 Adam 38. 2430 hours.”

  Deputy Porter placed the car in drive and pulled out of Todd’s driveway onto Ariola Drive. He kept the cruiser lights off and allowed the car to move slowly toward 1616 in the ‘Drive’ position without the use of the accelerator. As he got closer, he could see the light again, but now it was moving around under the beach house. When he was about three beach houses away from 1616, he placed the car in ‘Park’ and called the dispatcher once more.

  “4 Adam 38.”

  “4 Adam 38 go ahead,” Tina instructed.

  “4 Adam 38 show me out on scene.”

  “Roger 4 Adam 38. Your cover unit is a few minutes out.”

  “Roger.” Porter acknowledged.

  “All units be advised that this channel is Code 1 for 4 Adam 38 at 2435 hours,” Tina announced to all other deputies on the same channel. The Code 1 gave Deputy Porter priority use of the channel until he felt that he was safe by announcing that he was Code 4 and that dispatch could clear the Code 1.

  Deputy Porter reached down and plugged his earpiece line into the radio on his belt and then loped the earpiece around his ear. He wanted to maintain noise and light discipline when he approached the unknown person or persons. Deputy Porter then opened the cruiser door, and once again he stepped out into the hurricane environment. Before he could close the door, Pumpkin jumped out and ran toward 1616 Ariola Drive.

  “No! Porter whispered, but it was too late Pumpkin quickly disappeared into the darkness as she ran after the light in the distance.

  Deputy Porter ducked down, quietly moved closer to the houses on his right, and then decided to go around toward the back of the homes that lined the Gulf of Mexico. As he approached 1616 Ariola Drive, he used the sound of the waves breaking against the shore to cover his approach while keeping his flashlight off. As he got closer to 1616, he could see that some of the bottom blow out panels of the beach house were missing. It appeared that a surge of water, during the peak of Hurricane Jerry, had passed under the beach house removing the bottom panels.

  The light that Porter had observed earlier continued to move back and forth, shining over the ground below it. It appeared as if a person was holding the flashlight and he or she was moving it clumsily across the ground. Porter cautiously moved closer with his pistol drawn and aimed in the direction of the unknown figure holding the light. When he felt he had the element of surprise, Deputy Porter flipped his flashlight on and pointed it toward the figure.

  “Sheriff’s Office! Slowly turn around and face me!” Deputy Porter ordered from behind one of the beach house support piers. Deputy Porter waited for a brief moment, but the person did not comply with his command.

  “TURN AND FACE ME WITH YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!” Porter yelled just as a bright white light streaked across the sky, revealing the unknown figure. Thunder clapped and Deputy Porter’s eyes widened.

  “What the…” Porter said as lightning flashed above exposing a female mannequin hanging from the trusses of the beach house with the flashlight tied to one of its hands. Porter moved closer and saw Pumpkin standing under the mannequin, tied securely to one of the support piers.

  Deputy Porter quickly dropped to his knee, pulled the flashlight down, and used his light to survey the area around him.

  “Who’s out there?” He yelled as he passed the beam of light from one side of the house to the other, looking for the suspect.

  “4 Adam 38 are you Code 4?” Tina asked after not hearing from the deputy for a few minutes.

  Porter was about to answer when suddenly off in the distance, toward the water, he heard the unmistakable sound of a boat engine starting. He reached to his side for his other powerful flashlight, turned it on, and pointed it in the direction of t
he Gulf of Mexico. A few hundred yards offshore, he saw a large fifty to sixty-foot fishing vessel motoring its way away from shore out to deeper waters.

  “4 Adam 38 Deputy Porter, are you Code 4?” Tina asked once more.

  “4 Adam 38. I’m Code 4, and you can drop the Code 1. Do we have any watercraft on the water near my location?”

  “Negative 4 Adam 38.”

  Deputy Porter watched as the vessel’s operator turned off its outside lights and went dark after reaching cruising speed. In its wake, Porter could see what appeared to be a small inflatable raft drifting in the surf back toward shore. He turned, put his light on the excited, barking Pumpkin, and walked toward her.

  “I know, somebody’s playing a very dangerous game with us,” Porter said as he placed his pistol back into his holster. When Porter was almost to the excited pup, he tripped over something and fell to the wet sandy ground.

  “DAMN IT!” Porter said out loud as he rubbed his knee in the dark.

  “What did I trip over?” He asked himself and then used his flashlight and surveyed the ground behind him.

  “HOLY…” Deputy Porter yelled as the light from his flashlight revealed the head and hand of a woman protruding upward out of the sand.

  “4 ADAM 38!” Porter screamed into the radio.

  “4 ADAM 38 DISPATCH!”

  “4 Adam 38 go ahead,” Tina ordered.

  “I need additional units to my location as well as major crimes. I need a perimeter set up as far as Panama City to the east and Fort Pickens to the west. I need units looking for a fifty to sixty-foot fishing vessel making its way to shore from the gulf side of the island.”

  “4 Adam 38 Roger. What do you have out there?”

  “I got a DB at 1616 Ariola Drive!”

  About the Author

  I started my writing career as a ghostwriter for a publisher of textbooks, and then eventually, I co-authored a book myself. But I’ve always had the desire to write fiction. Throughout my adult life, I read mysteries written by others. At times, I found myself thinking that a story could have been better if the writer had included this or that in the story. Before long, I started writing down storyboards for mysteries that I created and that I wanted to write. My wife, Stefanie, still catches me daydreaming as I drive down the highway. The facial expressions that I make reveal to her that somewhere in my mind, I’m reviewing a chapter, scene, or dialogue between characters for a new book. Eventually, through the encouragement of my family and friends, I began writing and haven’t stopped.

 

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