NightScream

by Morgan Hannah MacDonald

  Her face was frozen in a scream.

  Her eyes were wide with shock.

  In fact, all the women wore the same grotesque expression, whether there was flesh left on their faces or not.

  As Cody scissor-kicked toward the surface, he glanced down and understood why Dale said it resembled sea grass. The way the current swished the hair back and forth was almost calming.

  He came up for air. “You’ve got a problem.” Then he swam to shore. The moment he stepped onto the beach, Jilly handed him a blanket. “Thanks.” He dried himself off.

  “What’d you find?” Jilly asked.

  He looked at Dale, then back at her. “Maybe you should let your witness go down to the station and fill out a report.” He threw the blanket on the log and dragged on his pants.

  Her lips pursed like she’d just sucked on a lemon. “Don’t tell me what to do. This is not your crime scene.”

  Cody buttoned up his jeans. “Well, by the look of things, I’d say it’s more like one of my cases than yours.”

  Her chin jutted out. “I was a homicide detective for five years.”

  “Yeah? And how many serial killers did you catch in that time?” He snagged his shirt.

  A surprised look flashed across her face, and then she glared at him. He’d kick her ass in poker.

  “None.”

  “That’s what I thought.” He nodded toward Dale. “Cut him loose.” The guy still shivered. Cody knew it wasn’t because he was cold. He was wrapped tighter than a mummy. “And get forensics here immediately. You’ll need a diver or two and a waterproof camera.” Cody buttoned up his shirt and plopped down on the log.

  She glared at him. “You are not the boss of me.”

  Cody laughed. Not only did she look like a damn kid, she sounded like one too. Her brunette hair was smoothed into a high ponytail with bangs framing her face.

  Her big blue eyes were made brighter by the color of her face as it flamed red in anger. Her lips were pink and shiny. Right now he had the urge to taste them. The utility belt she wore made her look like she’d fall over in a stiff wind.

  He’d thought she was cute in high school, but now, let’s just say he was very impressed by the woman she’d become. He sat down, and brushed the dirt and pine needles off the bottom of his foot before sliding on a sock.

  “Are you going to tell me what you saw, or what?” she ground out.

  Cody looked at Dale, then back at her. He tied his boot.

  “Fine,” she huffed. She walked over to the witness. “Dale, why don’t you go home, take a hot shower and put on some dry clothes. Then I’d appreciate it if you would go down to the station and give them a formal statement,” she said, sweetly.

  “Okay, Jillian.” Dale got up and headed down the road toward his truck.

  Cody tied his other boot and stood. Once Dale was out of earshot he said, “Looks like a dump site, several women in varying degrees of decomp.” He ran his hands through his wet hair.

  “You’re going to need to call the ME and tell him to bring seven body bags. The recovery will not be easy. It looks like some of the women have been down there awhile. Fish food. Identification is going to be difficult.”

  Jilly grimaced.

  “Hey, I thought you were a big bad homicide detective for five years,” he said.

  “Never dealt with a floater. I’ve seen pictures, but he’d only been in the water a day. I can’t imagine the condition of these women. I’m not looking forward to seeing them.”

  “I’m just busting your chops. Even the toughest, most seasoned agents would vomit at the sight I just saw.”

  Her brows knit. “How come you didn’t?”

  “Who says I didn’t?” He cocked his head. “Let’s just say I think I’ve seen it all and leave it at that.”

  THREE

  Meagan Laurel McInnis entered the great room and headed straight to the expanse of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Big Bear Lake. “You grew up coming to this cabin?” She was in awe.

  Jesse James Thomas, just plain Thomas to her, set two suitcases by the door before he walked over and put his arm around her waist. They stood side by side gazing out at the picture-perfect view. A sailboat dotted the horizon.

  “Yup. My grandfather, on my father’s side, had it built in 1957; it’s been upgraded a bit since then.” He grinned. “They moved to Cottonwood, Arizona a few years back. The snow was bothering my grandmother’s arthritis. Anyone in the family is free to use it whenever they choose. Cody comes here the most. He kind of grew up here.”

  “I thought you grew up in Fullerton?”

  “I did, but Cody was a bit of a wild card in high school. Got in with a rough crowd. The summer before his sophomore year, he got caught joyriding with his buddies. Dad got him a good lawyer so he only did community service instead of going to juvie.

  “Then my parents sent him up here to live with grandma and grandpa. Our grandfather was a strict disciplinarian, exactly what Cody needed at the time.”

  “It must have worked since he got into the FBI,” Meagan remarked.

  “Oh, it definitely worked. He was reluctant at first, but then he got interested in sports and found he was pretty good at them. That’s when he stopped being a punk. He quit smoking and drinking hard liquor when he realized it affected his performance.

  “Also, it wasn’t cool around his new friends. He decided to follow in my grandfather’s footsteps and join the FBI, so he enrolled at the University of Maryland. It’s the top school in the country for criminology.”

  Meagan tilted her head up at him. “Is that where you went?”

  “No, I went to UC Irvine.”

  “Why didn’t you want to go to the best school?”

  “Hey, UCI is a great school. It’s ranked number five in the country, but more importantly, it was close to home. I’d met Victoria by then and didn’t want to be away from her that long.”

  Meagan gazed back out and noticed a small motor boat in the distance. “What made Cody move back to California?”

  “Montana’s too damn cold; the average snowfall each year is around fifty inches. Plus, he was homesick. So he kept his eyes peeled for openings in San Diego and Los Angeles.

  “A job finally became available in the VCU, the Violent Crimes Unit, in the Los Angeles office. He bought a small place in Venice. He’s been there about four years.”

  “I love Venice with all its canals. Must have been expensive, though.”

  “Did I say small? I meant minuscule.” He chuckled. “He bought a two-bedroom condo that’s only 650 square feet. Just enough room to sleep and have an in-home office. He’s rarely there, so it’s just right for him.

  “He comes up here whenever he gets the chance. He loves the outdoors: hiking, fishing, skiing-water and snow. A real mountain man.”

  Meagan turned in his arms. “I can’t wait to meet him. You know, I’ve been with you for five months now and he’ll be the first sibling I’ve met?”

  “Sorry, babe, but everyone’s busy with their careers.”

  “I thought I’d at least meet them at Christmas.”

  “Maybe next year.” Thomas kissed the tip of her nose.

  “Did you want to join the FBI?”

  “I’d thought about it.”

  “And why didn’t you?”

  “I loved Victoria more and she didn’t want to live too far from her parents. When you first graduate from the academy, you don’t get much of a choice which field office you’re sent to. California is a prime assignment. So, as a newbie, the chances of getting a job here are zilch.”

  Victoria, his deceased wife. She’d committed suicide a couple of years before when rheumatoid arthritis crippled her hands and she could no longer play the violin. She was gorgeous. Thomas had a painting of her in his living room when she’d first met him.

  She was also very rich and he’d inherited her entire estate, which included a fabulous house on the beach in Laguna.

  He’d only mentioned
his wealth to her once. That’s when he was trying to talk her into quitting her job to go to school.

  He’d said he could more than afford to support her. Aside from his BMW, he didn’t act like a man of means. His voice brought her back to the present.

  “Another downside was that Victoria traveled with the symphony. If I’d traveled as well, we’d have never had seen each other. It worked out. I’m happy being a homicide detective in Orange County.”

  “And you’re good at it. You saved my ass from the Sandman.” Meagan stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the lips. “If not for you, I wouldn’t be alive today.”

  A haunted look crossed his face, then in the blink of an eye, it was gone. A smile took its place. “And what a cute ass it is.” He gave her a swat.

  Meagan turned around, taking in her surroundings. A giant rock fireplace divided the great room from the dining room and kitchen. Knotty pine covered the walls and floors. The ceiling had crisscross beams and the second floor could be seen from where she stood.

  After going full circle, she stared at his ruggedly handsome face with its strong jaw. His wavy, dark brown hair brought out the blue of his eyes. His five o’clock shadow made the three-inch scar running down his right cheek more pronounced.

  Although hidden at the moment, he had another scar on his left shoulder from a bullet wound. His six-foot-five frame complemented her five-foot-ten stature. “Thanks for bringing me here. I’m so glad you could take vacation during my school break.”

  He brushed her unruly red curls behind her shoulders and kissed the end of her nose. “It only took a little finagling. Besides, they owed me the time.”

  “I guess it never ends. People getting killed, I mean.”

  “Unfortunately not.” His large calloused hand closed around hers and dragged her toward the front door. “Come on, let’s get the car unpacked so we can get something to eat.”

  After they’d carried everything in, they got back in the car and headed into town. They grabbed dinner at a local Italian restaurant, and then stopped at the grocery store to stock the house. As Meagan set a gallon of low-fat milk in the cart, she asked, “Does Cody drink milk?”

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  “You don’t know if your own brother drinks milk?”

  “We haven’t lived together for years. I know he drinks coffee.”

  “Don’t all law enforcement types drink coffee?”

  “No, we have one guy in my department who drinks Coke all day.”

  “That’s just plain weird. I bet his teeth are rotting. Does he have a big belly?” Meagan grabbed a large Mocha Mix.

  “Now that I think about it, yes, he does.”

  She snagged a container of orange juice. “When is Cody getting here?”

  “Sometime today.”

  “Is there anything we should get for him while we’re here?”

  “Just this.” Thomas grabbed a twelve pack of Dos Equis beer and put it into the cart.

  “Beer? That’s all he needs to sustain himself?”

  “Beer, peanuts, and a fishing pole. What else is there?”

  “Jeez. Men.” Meagan stared at the selection before her. “Dry roasted or salted?”

  “In the shell.”

  She grimaced. “Like the ones we got to feed the squirrels?”

  “No, over here.” Thomas lifted a big bag of peanuts. “These are roasted in the shell, the ones we buy for the squirrels and blue jays are raw.”

  “Well pardon the hell out of me,” she said sarcastically. “Who knew?”

  “Not you, evidently.” He smirked.

  She cuffed him on the arm. “Smart ass.”

  At the checkout stand, Meagan started piling their groceries onto the conveyor belt. “You know, my classes are really kicking my butt. I don’t know what I was thinking going back to school at thirty-five.”

  Thomas picked up the gallon of milk. “You were thinking you needed to get away from that douche you worked for at the salon.”

  “True, but maybe I should have just gotten a job at another salon.” She placed a can of cut green beans on the belt.

  He snatched up the roast. “Babe, we’ve been over this. You really wanted to become a victim’s advocate.”

  “I know. I just wish I’d graduated already. I’ve never been a good student. I have to study twice as hard as everyone else to get things to sink in. That’s one reason I became a hairstylist to begin with.”

  Thomas paid the store clerk for their groceries and Meagan pushed the cart out the door. He picked the conversation back up. “I know it’s hard, but you should stick with it. I really think you’d be good. You’ll be able to relate to your clients in a way most advocates can’t because you’ve been there.” He opened the trunk and started filling it with groceries.

  Meagan grinned as she put a bag in the trunk. “Plus it will keep you out of jail.”

  Thomas stopped. “How’s that?”

  “Remember when you convinced me to quit the salon and move in with you?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “You had this murderous look on your face every time you mentioned Jerome. I realized then, if I continued to work there, you might end up killing the guy.” She flashed him her biggest grin. “I didn’t want that on my conscience.”

  Thomas put the last bag in the trunk. “That’s big of you. So the fact that the guy was smarmy and couldn’t keep his hands to himself didn’t enter into the equation?”

  “I’d been dealing with the perv for years. I figured I could suck it up until I finished school.”

  He turned toward her and put his hands on top of her shoulders. “Now let me get this straight. The only reason you quit working for that scum sucker and moved in with me was to protect me from myself?”

  She smirked. “Someone had to do it.”

  “And here I thought it was because you were in love with me.”

  Meagan put a hand on his cheek. “That too.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Thomas slammed the trunk.

  Meagan giggled and walked to the passenger’s side of the car and got in.

  Thomas started the car. “And while we’re on the subject of living together. When are you going to make an honest man of me and become my wife?”

  She gave him an exaggerated, surprised look. “What, you don’t like living in sin?”

  His jaw clenched, then he turned his head and backed out of the parking space. Silence filled the vehicle.

  “We’ve only been living together for three months,” Meagan replied.

  Thomas put the car in drive and stared straight ahead.

  “Are you saying you have doubts?” The look on his face broke her heart.

  “Not that you love me or about my love for you.” How can I make him understand?

  “Then what’s the problem?” He finally glanced her way.

  “Thomas.” She put her hand on his arm. “Jesse.” She rarely called him by his first name, but it always got his attention. “You know my history with men.”

  She took her hand away and stared out the side window. “I’m poison. I’m doing this more for you than me. I mean, how many women do you know who have turned a man into a serial killer?”

  “Babe,” his voice now soft. “That was not your fault.” She felt his hand on her hair. “Hey, look at me.”

  Meagan brushed a tear from her eye and turned her head. The tenderness of his expression and the love she saw there made her heart skip a beat. He made her feel beautiful, safe, and well-loved. She didn’t doubt his feelings whatsoever.

  Now. But what’s to say they wouldn’t change tomorrow?

  There seemed to be something about her that drove men insane. And she wasn’t just thinking about the Sandman. There was her ex-boss Jerome, and Brad, her crazy stalker-ex. The list went on and on. How could she ever think about forever with anyone?

  “You are not to blame for what that sick bastard did. Do you hear me?”

  Meagan nodded.

  He
pulled the car to the side of the road under an enormous pine tree and put the vehicle in park. He took her face in his hands. “I don’t think you do. Remember what my brother, Wyatt, wrote in that report?”

  She stared at him.

  “He’s an expert on the minds of serial killers, so he should know. The Sandman’s problems started long before he met you. Back when he was just a child. You didn’t make him what he was. Wyatt said the guy was a ticking time bomb. If it wasn’t you, it would have been someone else.”

  “I wish it were someone else,” she said just above a whisper.

  Thomas kissed her lightly on the lips. “Me, too, babe. Me, too.” He put the car in drive and got back on the road. “Now let’s hurry home. You’re wearing way too many clothes and I feel the need to remedy that.”

  Meagan giggled. “If you must.” She rested her head on his shoulder.

  FOUR

  Hours later, the divers brought up the last victim. As they lifted her out of the water, they lost their grip and she landed on the ground with a wet sickly plop. A stunned gasp escaped the crowd. The men were left holding flaps of skin. Her mottled blue flesh had slipped off, like a snake shedding its outer layer.

  No one moved. All eyes were glued to the abomination.

  That particular body must have been down there the longest. Like the other victims, her body resembled rubber. All her bones had been broken. When the divers tried cutting the rope securing her left ankle to the cinder block, the leg broke off, leaving her foot tied to the heavy brick resting on the bottom of the lake.

  It had since been retrieved. Her skin was as thin as parchment paper. Fish had nibbled most of her flesh away. One eye dangled from its socket, the other was missing altogether.

  “Careful!” the coroner yelled.

  Jilly sprinted for the woods.

  The divers, who wore booties instead of fins, scrambled to grab hold of her, one at her ankles, the other her shoulders. They were having a bit of a problem. No matter where they put their hands, the minute they lifted her bloated remains, the flesh gave way like liquid through a sieve.