Sarai

by Lilya Myers

  As Selena began to protest, Mrs. Rossetti held up her hand. “Not a peep out of you. My house, my choice, my decision. It’s the one thing left in my life that I have control over. Now skat. Go on. I need to get some sleep and so do you. I’m closing my eyes and I’m not listening to another word. You’ve been the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Now, goodbye, dear.”

  It’s not goodbye, it’s just goodnight, Selena thought. She was too tired to make much of it. The finality of her remark was disturbing. The young woman, Mrs. Rossetti’s nurse and constant companion for two years, was stunned by her patient’s overwhelming kindness. If she said thank you, it would mean she was accepting Mrs. Rossetti’s gift. If she didn’t, it would give the impression that she was ungrateful. Instead, she said, “Let’s just say I’m holding them for you for safe-keeping.”

  She turned her back as tears started to run down her face. She pretended to be arranging her laptop and notes in her bag. Mrs. Rossetti had the wisdom to let it go. She closed her eyes so that Selena would not be embarrassed by her tears. The will, the deed, everything had been drawn up legally to show that Selena was the heir and rightful owner to all of Mrs. Rossetti’s possessions.

  When Selena turned back around, Mrs. Rossetti was sound asleep. Selena decided that she would wait until Mrs. Rossetti was settled in her new quarters and then she’d return these treasures to her. With her purse and computer bag slung over her shoulder and embracing Mrs. Rossetti’s things with one arm, she flicked on the nightlight in the hall and went out through the kitchen. Selena closed the door quietly behind her and took out her key to lock the door. There was no moon and no street lights. The area was a rural beach community which hadn’t changed much in forty years.

  Mrs. Rossetti had insisted that Selena start parking in her empty carport. A short breezeway connected it directly to the kitchen entrance. It was so much better than parking on the dark street, especially in bad weather.

  She turned her key in the lock to set the deadbolt. Juggling the items in her one hand and managing to keep her bag from sliding off her shoulder, Selena turned to start through the breezeway and stopped abruptly. Wait. Did I forget to turn the light on? She hadn’t even noticed that it was off when she stepped out the door. She sighed. It was a stressful day. No way am I going back in the house now to check. Probably just a burned out bulb. Who knows when the last one had been replaced? A moonless night. But hey, I used to find my way around the side of the house to the street where my car was parked when I first came here.

  She was never afraid before, even when she had to leave at all hours of the night. Tonight there was something different. Something that made the hair on her neck bristle. Her bag slipped and she flung it back over her shoulder as she tried to keep from dropping her other things. With her right arm tucked around the items Mrs. Rossetti had given her, she felt for the handle of the car with her free hand to insert her key. As she fumbled in the dark, she couldn’t shake off that pervading sense of danger…

  It was too late. Before her mouth could expel a scream, one powerful arm swung around and clamped a gloved hand over her lips at almost the same instant receiving a quick sharp stick to the nerve in her neck with the other gloved hand. It happened so swiftly. She couldn’t resist. She couldn’t fight. She didn’t see his face but she wouldn’t have been able to anyway. Her eyes rolled back. It was like everything was on fast forward and slow motion at the same time. As her world went black and her body limp, Mrs. Rossetti’s brown leather bag and folder slid to the ground and under her car.

  The dark figure moved stealthily. There was no time to lose. Holding her against him, he capped the syringe with his teeth and put it in his pocket. No time to retrieve the stuff she dropped. They couldn’t be anything but health files anyway. He threw her bag with her personal things and ID over his shoulder with one hand while leaning her against the car. From his back pocket, he pulled a filthy rag to gag her mouth and two zip ties to bind her hands.

  There was a secluded house, abandoned by its owner some years ago, not ten minutes away.. The dark figure had done his due diligence and modified it for his purposes. The short drive didn’t pose a problem because the roads were pretty much deserted that time of night and the drug in the needle would keep her incapacitated long enough.

  At a steady pace, even carrying the woman’s small frame, he could reach his vehicle in a couple of minutes. He had made sure to park on the downward slope of the paved part of another street to avoid leaving tire tracks in any accumulated sand. The effects of the injection to her neck usually lasted ten to twenty minutes, so there was no need to bind her ankles. She’d have trouble walking and even crawling for at least twenty. The last thing that she’d be able to do was fight. He scooped her up and she went easily over his shoulder.

  In no time, he was at his car and had the trunk open. He let her flaccid torso roll off his shoulder and into the trunk of his vehicle. He looked at her listless body for just a few seconds – long enough to stir his anticipation. He snapped the trunk closed quietly. Then they were down the road. America – you could find anything you want here. Public records were a wonderful thing. He remembered a slogan from a TV commercial and repeated it in his head. The gift that keeps on giving.

  CHAPTER 29

  THE BOY WAS accustomed to cutting through a stretch of densely wooded area to get to his best friend’s house. It was a Saturday morning. What a great day it would be. No homework and no school projects looming over the weekend. It was one of those perfectly beautiful spring mornings. School was almost out, and at thirteen, his mind was more focused on the summer ahead at the beach. He traveled this shortcut hundreds of times and could almost find his way with his eyes closed.

  Just then, he heard a noise. He kept moving, perhaps a little faster, looking over his shoulder. Normally, he wouldn’t have given it a second thought but lately there’d been a lot of reports of bears in New Jersey. If they can get to New Jersey, what would keep them from coming to Long Island? A logical thought for a teenager. And geez…what is that smell?

  He stopped to sniff the air. He’d never smelled anything like that. There’s that sound again. It could be a bear. I wonder if bears smell like that… The words he mumbled to himself barely crossed his lips when a quick glance over his shoulder caused him to trip over something big. He came down hard, knocking the wind out of him for a minute. Just as he started to catch his breath, the overwhelming stench hit him again and he began retching violently. He tried to push himself up but his hands slipped on the liquid slime beneath him. Mired in a vile sludge, it wasn’t until he turned to see what caused his fall that real terror gripped him. The flesh had turned black and had already begun to rot. Maggots were feeding ravenously from places where body parts had once been. His screams penetrated the silence of the woods.

  ***

  Russ had just gotten off the phone with his fiancé, Rachel, when his cell chirped again.

  “Roma.”

  “Is this Russell Roma?”

  “Detective Roma speaking.”

  “Hi, this is Marley over at Wistful Wedding Planners?”

  Is she asking me or telling me? “Wedding stuff.”

  “Hi, I…”

  Russ spotted another detective out of the corner of his eye who was energetically trying to get his attention. “Ma’am, hold on a second, please.” He covered the mouthpiece and gestured questioningly with a lift of his shoulders and one hand raised.

  “Russ, Chief is looking for you. Pronto. You got the lead on this … Some kid stumbled across – I mean literally stumbled across a woman’s body in the woods in Mastic Beach. You need to get out there now. It’s… nobody’s ever seen anything like it.”

  Russ returned to the woman on the other end. “I’m sorry, Marla, I don’t want to sound rude but I’m really not able to talk to you right now. You probably need to speak with my fiancé, Rachel, anyway. Just give her a call. Thank you. Bye.”

  “The name’s Marley. And your f
iancé told us to call you…” The line had already gone dead on the other end.

  As soon as Russ clicked off, he punched a speed dial number. Holding the phone between his neck and shoulder, waiting for his partner to answer, he clumsily slipped his arms through the sleeves of his jacket.

  The song Jailhouse Rock began playing on Detective Joey Scenza’s cell. It left no room for doubt about who was calling. A Brooklyn accent failing terribly at a southern drawl answered. “How absolutely sweet of you to call me this early in the morning, darlin’,” Joey said smiling through the phone. “I…

  Normally Russ would have let Joey finish before throwing back a quick retort to his smart-ass partner.

  “Hey, got no time for your sweet talk, Joey. Have your ass out on the curb. I’m picking you up in ten.”

  “What’s up?” Joey’s voice returned to a serious tenor.

  “I’ll fill you in when I see you.”

  Medical leave was not one of Detective Scenza’s accomplishments. It took some arm-twisting but when he was finally released to go back to work, it was like drawing his own get out of jail card. He was already dressed and headed into the kitchen for coffee when Russ called. Put a narc in a business suit and that was Russ’s partner. Joey was out the door in less than five, pacing up and back in front of his house.

  The unmarked barely came to a full stop as Joey yanked the handle and hopped in. Russ kept moving as Joey slammed the door. “Just like in the movies, huh? Let’s see if you can do it a little faster next time, partner.”

  “Forgive me if I don’t kiss you good morning,” Joey went on as he slapped his seat belt over his chest, all the while making kissing sounds. Russ floored it and shot him a kiss my ass look.

  “You mind telling me now where we’re headed and why?”

  Roma shared the few details he knew. He was unable to get little more information on what they were about to see firsthand.

  Smitty, as they called him, was the first officer to answer the call. He was well-liked and a great cop. “Yeah, Smitty was the first one to respond,” Russ said. “Talked to Regina in dispatch on my way to get you. Smitty secured the perimeter while he was waiting on everybody. Got an eyeful, I hear. Used the word gruesome and a whole lot of other words.”

  “A big tough guy like Smitty?” Smitty was a big, burly Irishman who had a soft spot for kids and dogs, and a hardcore exterior for the bad guys.

  “Regina said that she’d never heard Smitty so…shaken. Told her that the kid who stumbled on the body was hysterical, had all he could do to keep him from hopping all over the place and tearing up the scene any more than he already had. Apparently the kid had an up close and personal encounter with the body. Smitty finally had to put the kid in the back of his cruiser for both their sakes. He hated having to do that but he had no choice. Afraid the kid would run off – paramedics weren’t there yet. No way he could have gotten a crime scene log started before the lab people and everybody else started showing up.”

  As soon as a crime scene was secured and a perimeter established, a crime scene log was started. The log lists everyone who goes past the perimeter, enters the crime scene, what agency they’re with and the reason they’re there. No one goes through without the proper ID check and signing on the dotted line. Smitty was also charged with keeping everyone out of the crime scene until the detectives and lab people arrived.

  “Yeah. I have a feeling we’ll have even that much more appreciation for old Smitty given his experience this morning.”

  “Oh, and when the parents showed up and the kid started describing what he saw…all hell broke loose all over again.”

  “That leaves enough to our imaginations until we get there, don’tcha think?”

  CSI and the ME were already working when Russ and Joey pulled up to the crime scene. As a passenger, Joey spotted the media before Russ and gave him a heads up.

  “Hey Russ, ten o’clock.”

  Heading directly toward them was a perky little blond wearing shoes unfit for walking on the uneven and steep roads around there.

  “Aw, crap. Nina Talk-Too-Much from The Village Independent.” A guy had to be blind to miss her in that bright neon green sheath which knew exactly which curves to accentuate on her toned little body.

  “She’s either got Native American blood running through her veins or she’s sharing a pillow with someone in the department. How the hell else does a no-nothing newspaper like that beat a path to our crime scene so fast?”

  It was a mystery how any of the news media got their crew on a scene ahead of the angels.

  “It’s Talk house,” Joey said.

  “Huh? Talk what?”

  “Her last name. Talkhouse. She is Montauk Indian.”

  “And you know this how? Doesn’t look it. Maybe her mother was Nordic something.

  “She’s not a real blond either,” Joey said with a deadpan expression.

  “How do you know that?”

  Joey smiled. “I’m a detective, remember?”

  “Forget I asked,” Russ said. “I was only making reference to her nose for sniffing out a story and I get a whole genealogy report and then some.”

  The banter Russ and Joey engaged in had become a defensive tool after they moved to homicide and the things they saw ultimately became the source of nightmares. Comic relief before the grotesque.

  Russ barely had one leg out the car door after Joey gave him a new warning that the pesky little Nina Talkhouse was in the home stretch and gaining on their car at full throttle. They were parked on the other side of the yellow crime scene tape. Then suddenly, the law of physics took hold of Nina’s five inch platform shoes and well, she wasn’t exactly running anymore. It was more like a race gone bad between her feet and her shoes across the uneven ground. Her arms still waved over her head at Russ, on approach, when everything went from turbo to slow-mo and back again.

  Russ pulled his leg back inside and slammed the door shut just in time for Nina’s arms to come down hard as her hands grabbed onto the open window frame – something like kites when they slam to the ground with no more wind to keep them airborne. It was a wonder she didn’t break both her arms, and Russ’s leg.

  Her petite but voluptuous body was at a forty-five degree angle with the door. The law of gravity at work. Her toes crash-landed into the soft dirt like quicksand and her hands held on tight to the window sill. It was a good thing Russ had the window rolled all the way down.

  Nina lifted her head to meet Russ’s eyes looking down at her with a properly bemused expression. An errant lock of blond hair, which was attached to the back of her head by dark roots, flew forward to make a landing over one eye. She formed her lips to blow it up and out of the way but only managed to chase a few strands away. Without skipping a beat, she smiled and focused one very big green eye on Russ.

  “Detective Roma, do you think we can talk for a minute?”

  “Miss Talk Too…house, will you please remove your hands so I can get out? You can come down to the precinct later for a chat over tea and crumpets.”

  “But…detective,” she mewed.

  “I said move…now… or I’ll have you arrested for hindering a crime scene investigation!”

  Nina pursed her lips, ignoring Russ, and shifted her gaze to Joey. From the passenger seat, all he could see was that one big green eye with the hula skirt of hair over it. That was amusing in itself.

  “With all due respect Detective Roma, detecting is what you do, correct?” It was rhetorical so she continued. “So, suffice it to say that if there was a woman dangling from your car door at an uncomfortable angle, making it impossible for her to move without falling on her face, you clever bloodhounds would get a clue? I guess I could scream for help, you know…get some public servant’s attention to the rescue…like those two over there by one of those squad cars?”

  Detective Joey Scenza was already out of the car. They sure didn’t need any more of a scene than this one was already attracting. The crime scene people
were too busy and just far enough away to notice. The two cops near the patrol cars were doing their level best to keep a straight face. Russ rolled his eyes as Joey grabbed Nina around the waist. They were the picture of a man carrying a store mannequin back to the storeroom. Russ caught a glimpse of her dark roots before the lock of hair went airborne and back in its place. Detective Scenza set Nina upright on her feet with ease while his partner pushed out of the unmarked. As the overly zealous reporter was doing a quick check of herself to make sure everything was in its right place, the two detectives walked past her and set a brisk pace toward the familiar yellow tape around the crime scene. Russ tilted his head toward Joey to whisper, “You were right.”

  Nina knew she couldn’t follow, so she called after them with a little wave, “See you fellas at the precinct later – what time’s good for you… hey, you put on the coffee and I’ll supply the doughnuts…or, would you rather I bring those cream filled Italian can … can… canons?” The pair never turned around to look back. They were already close enough to get a glimpse of the horror that awaited.

  What was blond on the outside was most definitely brunette on the inside as Nina pivoted on her toes and changed course toward the restrained coughing and unidentifiable, muffled sounds of amusement coming from the police cruiser. Nina gave a little wave at the two cops and engaged her hips as she swayed past them toward the news van.

  CHAPTER 30

  THERE WAS A lot of activity in the woods. White gloves and collection bags covered the area like ants at a picnic. Russ stopped several times to take in the entire scene and talk to some of the techs. Crime scene investigators had already erected a pop-up canopy to preserve what evidence they could around the body. The skies were threatening wet weather again. There was one lone CSI working behind a tripod near the tent.

  Ron Kaise, the M.E., recognized the voices of the approaching detectives, even though he was leaning over the body with his back to them. He’d worked with the department for a number of years and made a point of getting to know the younger detectives. Dr. Kaise was wrapping up his examination. His suit jacket was spread wide around his body and the outstretching of his arms as he worked, made him appear much larger than he was. The M.E. lifted his head for a moment to toss a quick nod of acknowledgement over his shoulder to Russ and Joey.