“You think you’re God now?” Peter glared at Cody. “Fuck you!”
Cody laughed, loud and deep. “You would like that, wouldn’t you? Your daddy would be proud, considering what he found on your computer… queer.”
“I ain’t no fuckin’ queer!” Peter struggled to get up. “I didn’t put that shit on my computer!”
“Sure you didn’t.” Cody frowned. “So, what’s it going to be?”
“I ain’t doing shit, you freak!”
Peter rushed towards Cody with his head low and his shoulders square. Cody moved to the side and swung the axe, striking the big teenager deep into the back of his right thigh. Peter cried out in pain and slammed into the bathroom counter with his head. He fell to the ground, dazed from the impact. Cody pulled the axe from Peter’s leg, triggering another scream.
“Okay! Okay!” Peter yelled through his tears. “I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you say. Just stop.”
Jonathan wrapped his arms around his legs and cried as Cody stepped back towards the middle of the restroom, glancing at him, blood dripping from the axe blade onto the tile floor.
“Well, faggot? The toilet, or redemption?”
Peter considered the stall, but crawled towards Cody, leaving a streak of blood on the floor, and whimpered. “I’m sorry for what I did.”
Cody shook his head. “That’s not a confession.”
“What the hell you want me to say?”
“Confess your greatest sin. Ask for redemption.”
Peter gazed up with his mouth agape. He struggled to breath. “I don’t understand.” His eyes closed for a moment and his head drooped before he gave it an erratic shake. He blinked several times and coughed. “I don’t… know what you want.”
“Your deepest, darkest secret.” Cody leaned forward, his voice deep, but soft. “Confess and earn your redemption.”
Peter turned his head towards Jonathan.
“He can’t help you. And why would he?”
Peter’s arms wobbled. He fell to his stomach. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for… everything.” He looked upward. “I promise to stop. I’ll stop picking on—”
“You’re pathetic.” Cody gripped the axe handle and lifted it. “A simple confession is all I asked for.”
“No!” Jonathan yelled, tears streaming from his eyes. “Don’t kill him!”
“Please…” Peter pleaded. “I’m sorry. I’ll do anything.”
“Confess!”
Peter lowered his head and wept. “It was me. It wasn’t Kevin or Randy. I made Chris… I made him kill that dog and… do it. And I made them watch.” He coughed and gazed upward. “I know it was wro—“
Jonathan screamed as the steel spike from the back end of the axe penetrated deep through Peter’s skull and into his brain. His eyes rolled upward. His arms and legs twitched. Cody placed his foot on Peter’s shoulder and pulled on the handle. The deceased teen’s head jerked up and dropped back to the floor as the axe blade detached. Blood oozed from the fatal wound. Cody removed Peter’s head from his body with a single swing of the axe. The head rolled a few feet toward the hysterical eleven-year-old boy. Cody kicked the head into the open stall and dragged the axe behind him, leaving a trail of blood as he made his way towards the crying boy.
Jonathan turned away, shielding himself with his arms and whimpered. “Please don’t kill me. I won’t say anything.”
Cody dropped the axe and knelt in front of him. “Look into my eyes, Jonathan.”
He hesitated, but slowly turned his head and gazed into the solid black eyes. He went into a trance for a minute while the demon youth examined the boy’s brown eyes.
“You are pure,” he said in Cody’s normal, youthful voice. The blackness of his eyes faded back into a precious blue, the claws on his hands retracting into normal fingernails. He placed a soft hand on Jonathan’s cheek. “I promise no harm will come to you, but you must do something for me. Okay?”
Jonathan swallowed and nodded. Cody smiled. “Excellent.”
†
Aaron searched for an empty spot to park Maria’s Mercedes while a Lost Maples County Sheriff’s Department cruiser stopped in front of the main entrance of the Bexar County Juvenile Detention Center in San Antonio. Maria reached behind her seat and squeezed Cody’s knee and gave him a nudge. “Wake up, Cody. We’re here.”
He opened his eyes and took in the sight of buildings, trees, and a parking lot that lined the circumference of three facilities, including the Bexar County Juvenile District Court. He checked his hands and rubbed his fingers, pursing his lips as Aaron parked the car. He took in a deep breath through his nose, and exhaled slowly before opening the door.
Deputy Copeland approached them in full uniform. A pair of steel restraints dangled from his left hand. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to cuff him before we enter the building.”
“I understand.” Aaron had convinced Sheriff Donovan to let him and Maria transport Cody to San Antonio with an escort, but he understood that Copeland still had to do his job. He locked the car and twirled his finger at Cody. “Turn around, so he can put the cuffs on you.”
Maria shook her head and rubbed her fingers over her eyes. Aaron gazed at the trees as several birds sang their songs, but he didn’t find any joy in their tunes. He couldn’t believe what had transpired over the past twenty-four hours. As his wife stared at the handcuffs and her body trembled in anxiety, he wondered if leaving Samantha in Lost Maples with a friend had been the best choice. Maybe Maria should have stayed home with her.
Cody sighed and turned around with his hands behind his back, while Deputy Copeland secured them with the cold steel cuffs. “What time is it?”
Aaron checked his watch as his phone rang. “A little after twelve. Why?”
“You’ll know when you answer that call.”
Deputy Copeland tightened the cuffs and raised an eyebrow at Aaron. He led Cody towards the front entrance with one hand gripped around his left arm. Maria followed behind them.
Aaron pulled the phone out of his pants pocket and checked the screen. It was Sheriff Donovan calling. He answered the phone and followed behind Cody, who looked over his shoulder once and lowered his head. “Hey, Richard. We just arrived at—”
“Aaron, I need you to get yer rear end back to Lost Maples. And I mean pronto.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Somebody killed Peter Slavic.”
“What?” Aaron’s voice shot up an octave. Maria and Deputy Copeland both turned. Cody continued to face the building. Aaron stopped walking and lowered his voice. “When did this happen?”
“This morning at Lee Hauser Middle School.”
He stepped away and got out of earshot. “What happened?”
“My guess is he finally ticked off the wrong fella. Took an axe to him pretty good in one of the boy’s restrooms.”
“Holy shit.” He glanced back at Cody, who was still staring forward toward the building, his head a bit drooped. “All right. Um… I’ll be there as soon as I have a chance to talk to your buddy here at the detention center.”
“Tim can handle the transfer, and yer wife is there with ya, right?”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“Look, I know Cody is yer boy and all, but you were right. I need you here on this case. It looks similar to that Cunningham boy’s death.” Sheriff Donovan cleared his throat. “We also got ourselves a witness who seen the whole thing happen.”
“Seriously? Who?”
“Kid named Jonathan Estrada.” Sheriff Donovan took a deep breath. “I know this is gonna sound a bit loopy, but he says it was a boy named Cody that killed him.”
“Whoa-whoa-whoa, what are you saying?”
“What I’m saying is that this kid picked yer boy out in a group of photos. Said it was him that did it.”
“And you believe him?”
“Course not. Unless Cody’s got a twin we don’t know ‘bout, we both know that ain’t possible.”
“Of course it isn’t, Richard. That kid is way off base.” Aaron scratched and rubbed his ear. “So, you have no problem with me getting involved in this case, even though this kid is claiming he saw Cody take out Peter Slavic?”
“Just get here as soon as you can, okay? We got state troopers here now, and them media clowns showing up from all over the gaddum place.”
“All right, boss. I’ll be there in a couple of hours.” Aaron ended the call and waved Maria over.
“What’s wrong?” she said, glancing back at Cody, who had despair on his face.
“That was Sheriff Donovan. Something happened at one of the schools this morning, so he wants me back in Lost Maples.”
“Oh, my God. Was it a shooting?”
“No, it wasn’t a shooting, but it’s going to be all over the news.” Aaron ran a hand through his hair and locked eyes with Cody. “Someone died at the school.”
“A student?”
“Maria, you know I can’t say anything.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I’ve got to get going.”
“Wait. You can’t leave me without a car. We were going to stay the night here and meet with the attorney.”
“Damn, you’re right. Um…” He got Deputy Copeland’s attention. “Hey, Tim, I’ve got to head back to Lost Maples on a one-eight-seven.”
“Another one?”
“Yeah, another one. You mind giving Maria a lift to get a rental car before you head back?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
Aaron thanked Deputy Copeland and wrapped his arms around his wife. He gave her another kiss. “Everything is going to be okay. We’ll get past this.” He pulled Cody close to him and gave him a one-armed hug. “You hang in there, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Cody didn’t say anything, but as Deputy Copeland led him inside the detention center, his glance backward before the doors closed said everything Aaron needed to know. That kid was terrified.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Phantom Fingers
Aaron counted seven news vans parked around Lee Hauser Middle School, two of which were from national cable news networks. So much for keeping the media at bay. State police and sheriff’s deputies from a neighboring county assisted with crowd control and guarded all entrances to the school.
Aaron made his way past the crowd of curious bystanders and ignored a few reporters attempting to question him, as he stepped under the yellow tape and headed inside the building. Deputy Dilbecky led him down a few hallways to the crime scene at the rear of the school, near the cafeteria.
Aaron took a mental note of the black dome in the ceiling near the restroom. He nodded upward. “Has anyone reviewed the footage from that security camera?”
“I’m not sure,” Dilbecky said. “You’ll have to ask the Sheriff or Sergeant Henderson.”
“What about the kid that witnessed the murder? Where is he now?”
Dilbecky pointed to the cafeteria. “I believe he’s in there with his parents and the school principal. The Sheriff requested he remain on the premises until you arrived.”
Sheriff Donovan stepped out of the restroom. “There he is.”
“I’ll go assist the other deputies outside,” Dilbecky said, and nodded at the Sheriff.
Aaron thanked her and asked the Sheriff, “How bad is it?”
“It’s messy.” Sheriff Donovan handed him a pair of blue shoe covers and latex gloves. “You’ll want to watch your step in there.”
Aaron slipped on the shoe covers and gloves and entered the restroom behind Sheriff Donovan. There was blood splatter all over the walls, floor, counter, urinals, stalls, and mirror. The mirror had a message written in blood, but it wasn’t in English. Aaron ignored it for the time being and examined the floor where pieces of Peter Slavic’s body were scattered throughout. He made note of the size of bloody shoeprints. Size seven or eight, if he had to make a guess.
Sergeant Henderson stepped out of the center stall wearing rubber gloves and a surgical mask. “Whoever killed this kid was really pissed. Not only did he chop him to pieces, but he left his head in a toilet full of crap.”
“Oh, jeez. Seriously?” Aaron stepped around body parts and blood and entered the stall. Peter Slavic’s face was swollen, his eyes bulging in their sockets. His mouth was wide open. Something grotesque was stuffed into it. “What’s that in his mouth?” Aaron leaned forward a little. “Is that what I think it is?”
Henderson tilted his head towards the lower half of Peter’s body near the stall. The pants and flesh around the pelvic region were torn up and very bloody. Aaron used a portable flashlight to get a closer examination of what was in Peter’s mouth. He grimaced when he confirmed his suspicion. “Damn, that’s just wrong.”
“All this, and nobody heard a peep,” Henderson said. “But at least we have a witness.”
Aaron twisted one side of his mouth. “Yeah, right. A kid who says Cody did this. I saw a security camera out in the hall. Has anyone checked the video?”
“There’s nothing. Just Principal Newman having a chat with Kevin Thomas about ten minutes before that little Estrada kid ran out of the restroom. No one else came out of there.”
“So, we’re looking fer a ghost, then,” Sheriff Donovan said. “Or maybe there’s another way out we ain’t seen yet.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Aaron stepped out of the stall and stared at the large mirror above the sinks. The counter was covered in blood and had one of Peter’s severed hands on it. It was nothing more than a stump, except for the index finger. The rest of the fingers and thumb were scattered on the floor. The cryptic message written in blood also had Aaron’s name written above it. He raised his eyebrows at Sheriff Donovan. “Why didn’t you tell me about this on the phone?”
“I thought it best you didn’t know until you seen it fer yerself.” The Sheriff pointed at the mirror. “That there is why yer back on the case. Any idea who might be trying to get yer attention?”
“No one comes to mind.” Aaron moved closer to the mirror, careful to avoid stepping on any blood or pieces of human flesh. He did recognize the language, but couldn’t read it. “It looks like Latin. Has anybody translated this?”
“Not yet,” Sheriff Donovan said. “Been busy processing this mess.”
Sergeant Henderson removed his rubber gloves and tossed them into a red disposal bin. “I’ll have it translated for you in a few seconds.”
Aaron cocked his head back and lifted an eyebrow. “You can read Latin?”
“Nope.” Henderson pulled out his phone and smiled. “There’s an app for that.” He swiped his finger across his screen and tapped it a couple of times. He opened an application and typed in the words written on the mirror. The application recognized the writing as Latin and translated it to English. “’He that hideth his sins shall not prosper,’” Sergeant Henderson read from the screen, “’but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall have mercy.’”
Aaron lowered the sides of his mouth and bobbed his head a couple of times. “You know, that app of yours would have come in handy in Austin.”
“Hey, we may be a small town Sheriff’s Department, but we know how to improvise when we need to. And, if you’re wondering, that’s another scripture reference. Proverbs 28:13.”
“You use an app for that too?”
“Nope. I know it from studying the Bible. Something that also comes in handy.” Sergeant Henderson gave Aaron a wink and put his phone away. “From the looks of it, this guy thinks you have something to confess.”
“He who is without sin cast the first stone.” Aaron maneuvered around the body parts towards the exit. “It’s time I have a little chat with our witness.”
†
Aaron sat across the table from Jonathan Estrada and his parents with a small notepad open and pen in his hand. Aaron took notes while the youngster gave his statement about what had happened from the time Peter pushed him in the stall, took his money, and tried to force his head in the toilet.
“Then
he just stopped pushing my head down. That’s when I saw the boy in black. He stuck a knife in that bully’s back.” Jonathan described the confrontation between Peter and Cody. He cried when he described the more graphic parts of his story.
Aaron pulled a photo out of his wallet and showed it to Jonathan. “Is this him?”
Jonathan stared at the photo of Cody and Aaron and nodded.
Jonathan’s father took the photo and looked at it. “He’s your kid?” He slid the photo across the table. “Now I know why you question my son’s story.”
Aaron ignored the father’s statement and asked Jonathan, “What time did this happen? When did you see this… bully get killed in the restroom?”
Jonathan glanced at his father, who nodded, but with a frown. “It was during my lunch period.”
“And what time is your lunch period?”
“Eleven.”
Aaron shifted his eyes to Jonathan’s father. “Mr. Estrada, the reason I’m questioning Jonathan’s story is because Cody was on his way to San Antonio at eleven this morning. He was with me.”
Mr. Estrada looked away and pursed his lips, but didn’t say anything.
Aaron returned his attention to Jonathan. “You experienced something that no kid should have to witness. I’m sorry about that, but there is no way Cody did—”
“I know what I saw!” Jonathan yelled. “Él es el diablo.”
Aaron raised his eyebrows. “He’s the devil? Is that what you think you saw?”
“His eyes turned black.” Jonathan pointed to his fingers. “His fingers had claws. Él no era un ser humano.” Through choked sobs, he translated, “He wasn’t human.”
“Ay, Dios mío,” Jonathan’s mother said, lifting her hands up in frustration. “No tiene que decir mentiras como esas.”
“Pero es la verdad!” Jonathan cried out to his mother. “No estoy mintiendo. Yo sé lo que vi. Él es el demonio en forma humana.”
Aaron tried to follow the exchange with his limited knowledge of Spanish. From what he could tell, his mother was accusing Jonathan of lying. Jonathan defended himself. Did he say something about a demon in human form?
Devil's Nightmare: Premonitions (Devil's Nightmare, Book 2) Page 31