Dead Rise: An Alex Penfield Novel

by Robert W. Stephens

  “I’m done talking to you.”

  “Why did you do it?”

  “I said I’m done with you. I want a lawyer. When can I get my lawyer? This is a waste of time.”

  Emma ended the interrogation and walked out of the room. She found Sheriff Slater waiting for her in the hallway. She wasn’t sure how long he’d been listening, but he didn’t look happy. She glanced through the window in the door. Charles Ray wasn’t looking at her this time.

  “We can’t hold him for more twenty-four hours,” Slater said.

  Emma turned back to him.

  “You jumped the gun. You were just supposed to talk to him,” he continued.

  “What would you have done? He flew out of his driveway like a bat out of hell. Would you have just let him run?”

  “His lawyer will say those DNA results are a joke. It was his mother’s house for God’s sake. Why wouldn’t his DNA be there?”

  “It was on the pillow beside her head, just where Sally said the guy was.”

  “And you’re positive it was her son? Why would he do that? What did he have to gain? Besides, you told me she’s been staying with him for the last week. Do we know if he’s done anything to her in that time?”

  Emma didn’t answer him.

  “Did you have someone check up on her after you arrested Charles Ray?” Slater asked.

  “I can send Debney and Baker back there now.”

  “So she could be dead in that trailer, and we don’t know about it?”

  “I’m sorry. I screwed up. He ran, and we had to stop him before he caused a multicar accident.”

  “Well, you took care of that yourself, didn’t you?”

  “I’ll go check on Sally Tatum myself,” she said.

  “No. Send Debney and Baker. You need to stay here and figure out how we place that guy at Ben’s house the night he was murdered. Otherwise, Tatum is walking tomorrow. Let’s hope he doesn’t fucking sue us.”

  Slater turned and left Emma standing outside the interrogation room. She looked around and hoped no one had seen him berate her. He’d been right, though. Right on all of it. She’d had nothing that morning and had been at her breaking point. She’d moved too fast after getting the phone call from Doctor Greene. It had been the first real break they’d had. It still was, if she was being honest with herself. She thought she could still probably pin the breaking and entering on Charles Ray, but it wasn’t like his mother was ever going to press charges on her son. She’d shown Charles Ray all of her cards in that interrogation. Now he’d lawyered up, and she might not ever be able to see him pay for what he’d done to Ben.

  Chapter 21

  The Psychic

  Henry Atwater turned off the car and looked at Sally Tatum’s house. He hadn’t heard from Penfield since their last visit here, but Atwater couldn’t stop thinking about his encounter with the boy. He saw him everywhere he looked. The boy’s energy had latched onto him, and he was afraid he might not ever be able to free himself if he didn’t discover what the boy needed him to know.

  Atwater had waited for the sun to set before approaching the house. He didn’t have Penfield with him this time, so he’d be lacking protection if someone demanded to know why he was trespassing. He knew Penfield wasn’t a detective anymore, at least not in any type of official capacity, but the man had an air of authority about him.

  Atwater climbed out of his car and walked up the long driveway to the Tatum house. He didn’t see any lights on, so he assumed the owner was still gone. He walked around the house to the backyard. He stood at the corner of the house and looked at the tree where he’d last seen the boy. The full darkness of the night hadn’t set in yet, and he could still make out the branches of the tree. All of the leaves had fallen, and the twisting and knotted limbs looked like gnarled fingers reaching toward the sky.

  He walked over to the tree and tried to feel for the boy’s energy, but there was nothing there. Atwater closed his eyes in an attempt to open himself up even more. He’d sometimes found success by blocking the visuals that only served to distract his mind. The wind had picked up on his drive down here, and now he could hear the leaves blowing and dancing across the dead grass.

  “Where are you, James?” he whispered.

  Atwater opened his eyes and looked up to the tree again. The limbs were still empty. He closed his eyes again and sat on the ground. Atwater took long and slow breaths.

  “Where are you?”

  He opened his eyes when he heard the boy’s laughter. It occurred at the same moment a burst of wind had rushed past his ears, so Atwater couldn’t be sure where the laughter came from. He looked up to the tree, but the boy still wasn’t there. He heard the laughter a second time. He turned to his left and saw the boy at the edge of the woods in the back of the yard.

  “There you are.”

  He stood and walked toward the boy. He expected his face to start hurting like the last time, but it didn’t. Atwater was about halfway across the yard when the boy turned from him and ran down the path into the woods.

  “Wait. Don’t leave.”

  Atwater increased his pace, but there was a limit to how fast his old legs would take him. Atwater stopped at the entrance to the path. He reached into his back pocket and removed a small but powerful flashlight. He aimed the beam into the woods but didn’t see the boy. Atwater stepped into the woods and followed the path to the first graveyard. He illuminated the tiny gravestones with his flashlight. He then panned the light around the clearing. The boy wasn’t there, and Atwater no longer heard his laughter.

  He found the second path at the rear of this clearing and continued until he came to the second graveyard where the body of Jimmy Tatum had been buried. He walked over to the hole and saw the sheriff’s department had removed the coffin from the ground. He aimed the light into the empty wooden box. He then walked to the edge of the hole and looked down. There was nothing but dirt.

  “I’m not there.”

  Atwater heard the words in his mind as if they’d been spoken by someone standing just a few feet from him. He turned and saw the boy standing beside the empty coffin.

  “What are you trying to tell me? What is it you want me to know?”

  The boy touched the deformed side of his face. He held his hand there for several seconds.

  “It wasn’t fair what happened to you. I’m sorry.”

  The boy turned from Atwater and walked farther into the woods. Atwater followed the boy. It was slow going since there wasn’t a path that led through this section. Atwater aimed the flashlight in the direction where the boy had run, but he no longer saw him. He thought about turning back since the woods seemed to get thicker with each step he took. He heard the boy’s laughter a third time, and he thought it was the boy’s way of encouraging him to keep moving forward.

  Atwater finally came out of the woods, and his feet instantly sank into the wet ground. He saw the boy at the edge of the marsh. He’d stopped running and was looking right at Atwater.

  “What did they do to you?”

  The boy didn’t respond. Instead, he walked backward into the water. He kept his eyes trained on Atwater the entire time. He stopped when the water reached the bottom of his neck. The boy touched the side of his face, and then he vanished below the water.

  Atwater stood in the marsh for several minutes. He waited for the boy to reappear, but he never did. He closed his eyes and felt for the boy’s energy. It was gone.

  Atwater turned away from the marsh and slowly made his way through the woods and down the two paths that would take him back to the Tatums’ yard. He emerged from the woods and instantly saw a gun pointed at his face.

  “Stop right there,” Emma said. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

  ***

  It took Penfield almost forty minutes to get to the Tatum house after Emma had called him. She hadn’t given him a reason why. She’d just said it was urgent. Penfield recognized Atwater’s car as soon as he turned down the street.
Emma’s car was parked in front of it. Penfield saw her climb out of her car as he parked his own on the opposite side of the road. He walked over to her. It wasn’t hard to interpret the angry look on her face.

  “Where is he?” Penfield asked.

  Emma nodded toward her car. Penfield looked past her and saw Atwater sitting in the backseat. He could see Atwater’s hands were in front of him, so he knew Emma hadn’t bothered to handcuff him.

  “He said he’s working with you.”

  “He is, in a manner of speaking,” Penfield said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I brought him out here the other day, but I didn’t know he’d decided to come back.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “He’s helped me on a previous case. I thought he could help on this one, too.”

  “This is that psychic?”

  “Yes.”

  “You brought a psychic to the Tatum house, and you didn’t think you needed to run that by me first?”

  “I felt it needed to be done, and I didn’t want to put you in a bad place by asking you to defy your sheriff’s orders.”

  “Just to confirm, you did this after I told you to stay away?”

  “I did.”

  Emma looked away, and Penfield feared he’d just destroyed whatever was left of their relationship.

  “Where was he when you found him?” Penfield asked.

  “Why should I even tell you?”

  “It’s not his fault. Place the blame on me, but there are things you might be able to learn from him.”

  “Like what? He’s going to tell me about his dreams? What am I supposed to do with that? Should I take his dreams to Slater? What do you think he’ll say? Probably the same thing your Captain said to you.”

  Penfield held her gaze, despite knowing she’d intentionally taken a cheap shot at him. He knew he deserved it. Penfield looked over to Emma’s car. Atwater wasn’t even looking at them. He was just staring straight ahead, seemingly lost in thought. Penfield had seen the look before, and he thought he knew what it meant. Penfield turned back to Emma.

  “Will you let him go? I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother anyone again.”

  “How do you intend to do that? Something tells me this guy does whatever he wants.”

  “He’s just trying to help.”

  “I arrested Charles Ray today. DNA evidence puts him in the bed when Sally thought she saw an intruder. She saw her son, instead. Maybe she knew that. Maybe she didn’t, but now you can see that I don’t need to know what your so-called psychic thinks he knows.”

  “So it’s over?”

  Emma didn’t respond.

  “Why did you come out here then? I’m guessing some neighbor saw Atwater snooping around and called 911. But why were you the one to come? This case isn’t closed, is it? Who were you hoping to find out here?”

  “I don’t have Charles Ray for Ben’s murder. Buddy Butler’s, either.”

  “So you have nothing,” Penfield said, and he immediately regretted how harsh it sounded.

  Emma paused.

  Then she said, “No, I have nothing, but I sure as hell don’t need your help or his, either.”

  Penfield looked toward Emma’s car. Then he turned back to her.

  “What are you going to do with him?”

  Emma didn’t answer him. Instead, she walked over to her car and opened the back door.

  “Get out,” she said.

  Atwater waited a moment and then climbed outside.

  “Don’t come back here, either of you,” Emma continued.

  Atwater turned to Penfield.

  “I know why the coffin was empty,” he said.

  “What did I just tell you? Stay out of this,” Emma said.

  “You might want to hear what he has to say. What will it hurt if we leave now or a minute from now?” Penfield asked.

  Emma didn’t answer him, so Penfield hoped that was her way of telling him to proceed. He turned to Atwater.

  “Did you see the boy?”

  “He appeared to me again. This time at the edge of the woods.”

  “Wait a minute. You’re saying you actually saw Jimmy Tatum?” Emma asked.

  The sarcasm in her voice didn’t need a translation. Penfield assumed that Atwater either hadn’t picked up on it, or he’d just chosen to ignore it because he seemed completely unbothered by it.

  “I followed him into the woods and past the two graveyards. He went into the marsh,” Atwater said.

  “You said you knew why the coffin was empty. Why?” Penfield asked.

  “He was never there. They buried him in the water. I don’t know if it was in the marsh behind these woods, but it was in the water somewhere. They took his body and just dumped it.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would they do that and then bury an empty coffin?” Emma asked.

  “I can’t answer that, Detective,” Atwater said.

  “But you feel confident enough to say he was dumped in the water?”

  “Alex said you found no evidence that a body had ever been in that coffin. I don’t know why they buried an empty wooden box, but James Tatum wasn’t buried back there,” Atwater said.

  Penfield turned to Emma.

  “Maybe that’s what the killer wanted you to know. He dug up the coffin to show you what the Tatums had done. This case somehow revolves around that boy. It always has. It’s why the killer is destroying the victims’ faces. He’s making them look like Jimmy. You just need to know why.”

  “Why would Charles Ray do that? He’s a Tatum. If he was so concerned about what his family had done to his brother, he could have just come forward,” Emma said.

  “Maybe it isn’t Charles Ray. He may not know anything. He may have been too young when this all first started,” Penfield said.

  “You were the first one who told me you thought he was guilty,” Emma pointed out.

  “And he may be, but we can’t close ourselves off to the possibility that there might be someone else out there.”

  “We don’t have to do anything. I’m the one who’s responsible for this case. Not you.”

  Emma turned to Atwater.

  “And certainly not you,” she continued.

  “You’re right, and I’m sorry again if we violated your trust,” Penfield said.

  “There’s no ‘if’ about it. I just hope Slater doesn’t hear anything about this. Please get out of here before I change my mind about not arresting you both for trespassing.”

  Penfield motioned for him and Atwater to leave, and he walked the old man over to his car. Emma stayed beside hers.

  “There’s a gas station about a mile from here on George Washington Memorial Highway. Meet me there,” Penfield told Atwater.

  He turned from Atwater and walked across the street toward his car. Emma approached him before he reached it.

  “I know you’re just trying to help, but I don’t need this right now. I’m already catching hell from Slater. Today didn’t go well,” Emma said.

  “I understand. You know how to get a hold of me if anything changes.”

  Emma said nothing. Penfield walked the rest of the way to his car. He climbed inside, started the ignition, and pulled away from the curb.

  Emma stood off to the side of the street and watched Penfield and Atwater drive away. She grabbed her keys out of her pocket and got ready to unlock her car. She looked back to the Tatum house first. It was absurd to believe Atwater could have actually communicated with a child who’d been dead for twenty years, yet his theory, and Penfield’s analysis of it, made some sense. It explained the lack of forensics evidence in the coffin, as well as the motive to dig it up in the first place.

  She slipped her car keys back into her jacket pocket. Emma walked to the back of her car. She popped the trunk and retrieved a black flashlight. She closed the trunk and walked back to the woods behind the Tatums’ house. She turned on the flashlight and aimed it down the path. Th
ere was no one there. She stood in place for a few long moments and listened. All she heard was the wind rustling through the trees. She wasn’t sure what was holding her back.

  Emma tried to push her apprehension away and walked down the dirt path. She passed the first graveyard and finally arrived at the empty coffin where Jimmy Tatum had supposedly been buried. She aimed the flashlight around the area. She found Atwater’s fresh footprints in the dirt, at least she assumed they were his prints, but there were no smaller ones to indicate a child had been there. She couldn’t believe she’d even looked for them.

  She walked over to the coffin and used the flashlight to look inside. Had there ever been a body there, or was Atwater correct? Had the boy’s body been discarded like a piece of garage and dumped in the marsh? She didn’t know whatever could have possessed the Tatums to do something like that. He’d been their son, and both his deformity and accidental death had been a tragedy, but she’d heard nothing from them or anyone else to indicate they hadn’t loved him.

  She was about to turn and walk back to the house when something crashed into the back of her head. Her vision blurred. She tried to reach for her gun with one hand and steady herself by grabbing the edge of the coffin with the other.

  She was hit a second time, and she collapsed onto the ground. She struggled to stand, but she fell forward and struck the edge of the coffin. She ended up sitting on the ground with her back pressed against the wooden box. Then another wave of dizziness hit her, and she fell sideways onto the mud. The last thing she saw before she passed out was a pair of dirty work boots walking toward her. They stopped just a few inches before her face. Then everything went dark.

  Chapter 22

  I Have Her

  Penfield saw the gas station he’d told Atwater about. He turned right into the lot, and he and Atwater parked beside each other in the back. Penfield got out of his car and walked over to Atwater’s just as he was getting out of his own.

  “She’s wrong about this. You and I both know it,” Atwater said.

  “She’s in a tough spot. Her job is just as much politics as it is uncovering the truth.”

  “That doesn’t excuse her rejecting our help.”