Dead Rise: An Alex Penfield Novel

by Robert W. Stephens

  “I told him I would return you in pieces. He has four more hours until the next one.”

  The man pulled a handkerchief out of his front pocket. He wrapped it around the finger several times, and then he placed it back into his pocket.

  “Maybe he’ll pay attention once he gets this.”

  “Why are you doing this to me?” Emma cried.

  “They casted me aside. I was just some monster to them. Now I’ll act like one. I’ll give them what they thought I always was.”

  The man turned away and walked past Emma.

  She screamed for help again, but she knew no one was coming.

  ***

  Penfield left the Tatums’ house and spent the next few hours looking for security cameras that might have inadvertently filmed the killer’s car leaving the Guinea Road area. There were no stores on Guinea Road itself, so he had to focus on the part of George Washington Memorial Highway where Guinea Road came out. There was really only one location that offered a decent view of that part of the street. The convenience store had two exterior cameras that covered the front of the store. One camera focused on the sidewalk along the front of the store. The other was right beside the first camera, but it offered a wide shot of the parking lot and the street.

  Penfield asked the store’s manager to let him view the footage. The manager instantly agreed when he saw Penfield’s convincing fake badge. Penfield told the manger to cue the footage up to around thirty minutes after he’d last seen Emma. He realized almost immediately that it was a fruitless effort. There were way too many cars driving down the highway, and the security camera’s field of view was far too wide to get a good look at any of the drivers or passengers.

  Penfield thanked the manager and walked outside to his car. He knew he’d run out of options. He had no idea where to look next, nor could he even call the sheriff’s department for an update since Slater had made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t welcome.

  Penfield drove home and walked into one of the smaller bedrooms that he’d converted into a home office. He opened his laptop and powered it on. He then logged on to the internet and pulled up a map of Gloucester County. He found the marina at Mobjack Bay and tried to estimate where The Sally had been when he’d motored out to it. He then tried to determine where the man had been standing when he’d fired the flare gun at the boat. He thought he found the general area, but it wasn’t clear what was around there.

  There didn’t seem to be any roads the man could have driven down to get to that spot. Penfield didn’t know if that meant he’d walked out of the area after firing the flare gun. Maybe he’d had something small like a motorcycle staged there for a quick getaway. Penfield zoomed in on the area but no structures or potential hideouts jumped out at him.

  He spent the next hour going over the map of Gloucester County. He didn’t know what he was looking for exactly, but he was hoping against hope that something would strike him as a possibility for where Emma might be kept hostage. It was a desperate attempt, and it produced the predictable outcome: he had nothing.

  Penfield’s eyes grew heavy, and he knew his body desperately needed sleep. He couldn’t do that, though, not with Emma’s life in danger. He decided to head to the sheriff’s department. He’d have to find a way to convince Slater to let him help. Penfield was halfway back to Gloucester when his phone rang. He pulled over to the side of the road and answered the call.

  “He didn’t come forward. He didn’t do what I asked,” the man said.

  “I spoke with Slater last night. He says he doesn’t know what you want. He can’t give you what he doesn’t have.”

  The man didn’t respond, but Penfield could hear his labored breathing through the phone.

  “Tell me what you want from him. I’ll get it for you,” Penfield continued.

  “He knows what I want. He must confess his crimes.”

  “What about Emma? Have you hurt her?”

  “I told you I would. What makes you think I wouldn’t keep my word?”

  “You want something from Slater. Let me help you get what you want, but you have to do something for me in return. Release her. It will be a show of good faith. She and I will both make sure you get what you need from Slater.”

  “I have freed a piece of her like I said I would. You have another four hours. You’ll find her at the marina where this all started.”

  Penfield heard the labored breathing stop. He looked down at his phone and saw the call had ended. He took a quick look in the rearview mirror to see if the traffic was clear and pulled back onto the road. He pressed down hard on the accelerator and drove straight for the marina at Mobjack Bay.

  He was there in less than twenty minutes. He drove a slow circle around the parking lot. He looked at every car and pickup truck there, but they were all empty. He parked in the back of the lot and walked onto the dock. He looked at the deck of every boat, but he saw no one. Penfield walked to the end of the dock. He looked out at the bay but didn’t see any boats nearby. All of the work boats had already gone out for the morning.

  Penfield walked back to the parking lot. The man had said Emma was at the marina. For some strange reason, he didn’t think the man would lie to him, so where was she? Penfield was about to walk to the marina headquarters to ask if anyone had seen anything when he spotted a cardboard box just off the back corner of the parking lot. There were no cars near it, and it was just a few feet from the thick trees that surrounded the marina.

  He walked over to the box. It was just a little bigger than a shoebox. He kneeled in front of it and examined it closely. There were no writings on the box. The top of it was closed, but it hadn’t been taped shut. It was probably just some random box that a waterman had inadvertently left behind, but Penfield couldn’t ignore the warning bells going off in his head. He grabbed his tactical foldout knife from his front pocket and used it to pry the cardboard lid open. He looked inside and saw a severed finger. He knew at once it was Emma’s.

  Chapter 24

  The Woods

  Atwater opened his eyes. He’d pulled the heavy drapes shut the night before, but there was a two-inch crack that let the morning light inside his hotel room. Unfortunately, that light was now aimed directly into his eyes. The heavy traffic just in front of the roadside hotel had woken him up at least an hour ago. He turned over in the bed and faced the opposite direction to try to get a few more minutes of much-needed sleep. He was about to put a pillow over his head when the side of his face started to itch. He scratched his cheek, but the itching only intensified. Soon, he heard a loud buzzing in his ears. The black insects had returned, and they were devouring the flesh of his face.

  He pulled his hand away to keep himself from clawing out his own eyes. He knew the insects weren’t really there. They were just an illusion in his mind, but he couldn’t make them go away. The itching only increased. Atwater climbed out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. He looked at the mirror and saw the insects crawling all over the right side of his face. He tried to push them away, but they only swarmed around his hand and climbed up his bare arm.

  “Stop it, James! Stop!” Atwater yelled.

  He stumbled back into the main room and saw him immediately. The Tatum boy was standing in front of the drapes. The boy raised his hand and pointed at Atwater. The black insects started crawling inside Atwater’s mouth and ears. The old man dropped to his knees as the bugs slowly filled his mouth and crawled down his throat. Atwater gasped for breath, but he could barely get any air into his lungs.

  He turned toward the boy who was now standing just a few inches from him. Jimmy Tatum kneeled down beside Atwater and watched him as he continued to gasp for air. Atwater saw the black insects fly over to the boy and land on the misshapen side of his face. The boy didn’t seem to notice as the insects ate away at the flesh.

  The boy leaned forward and placed his hands over Atwater’s mouth. What little air he had managed to breathe was now completely shut off. Atwater’s brain started to
slow down dramatically. His thoughts became a blur of confusion as he tried to process what was happening. This was all just in his mind. He knew that, yet he was powerless to make it stop. The boy’s spirit had latched onto him. He’d opened the door, and Jimmy Tatum had walked through. He’d only wanted to help the boy find peace. Now Jimmy Tatum was going to kill him.

  ***

  Penfield closed the lid of the cardboard box. He stood and looked around the area. Many times, the perpetrators of crimes would stick around to see the reactions of the authorities. Penfield doubted this man would, but it didn’t hurt to look. He saw a car leave the parking lot, but he got a quick glimpse of the driver. It was a woman. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed 911. He reported the crime and informed them to contact Sheriff Slater at once. He didn’t have time to play phone tag with Slater, but he also didn’t want to keep him in the dark.

  He walked across the gravel parking lot and approached the side of the marina building. He looked up at the corners of the building and immediately saw a security camera aimed at the parking lot. Penfield headed into the building and walked over to the counter. A receptionist sat behind it. She seemed preoccupied with her celebrity gossip magazine.

  “Ma’am, I’m Detective Alex Penfield. I need your help.”

  The woman slowly lowered her magazine and looked over to Penfield.

  “What can I do for you?” she asked.

  “That security camera outside. I need access to it, as well as any cameras you might have on the dock.”

  “You’ll have to talk to the manager about that.”

  “Fine. Where are they?”

  “He’s at the doctor’s office this morning. He won’t be in for another hour.”

  “I can’t wait that long.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you into his office without his permission.”

  “Fine.”

  Penfield started to walk around the counter.

  “What are you doing?” the receptionist asked.

  He reached into his pocket and removed his detective’s badge.

  “I’m arresting you for obstruction of justice.”

  The woman’s eyes widened, and she reached under the counter. Penfield thought she might be going for a gun, but then she pulled out a metal ring with several keys attached to it.

  “I can let you in,” she said.

  Penfield followed her as she walked from behind the counter and led him to an office on the other side of the marina building. She unlocked the door and pointed to a desktop computer behind the messy desk. There was also a laptop on the desk, which was sitting on a stack of papers.

  “Which computer is it?” Penfield asked.

  “The one in the back. He can monitor all the cameras from that one.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you need anything else?”

  “No. This will be all.”

  The woman left and Penfield walked behind the desk. He sat down on the rolling chair and moved the mouse to wake the computer up. Fortunately, it was a standard security system that Penfield had seen a million times before. He was easily able to access the appropriate camera and find the footage from the last two hours. He scrolled through the footage as fast as he could, which was about four times the normal recording speed. He eventually saw a man emerge from the woods. He had the small box tucked under one arm, and he walked to the back corner of the lot. He was wearing a dark hooded sweatshirt. The hood was pulled over his head. The man kept his head down, so it was impossible to see his face. The man placed the box on the grass and walked back to the woods. He walked around a tree and disappeared from the camera’s view.

  Penfield stopped the recording and was about to stand when his phone rang. He looked at the display. It was Henry Atwater.

  ***

  Atwater felt his throat suddenly open, and he sucked in precious air. He was on his back, so he rolled onto his side to look for the boy, but he was gone. Atwater stayed on the floor while he tried to regain his strength. The boy’s attack had been as quick as it was ferocious. He didn’t know why the boy had eased off. He also didn’t know if he was trying to send a message of some kind, or if he was simply lashing out for what had happened to him in life.

  He crawled over to the bed and used the top edge of the footboard to brace himself while he struggled to his feet. He sat down on the bed and took several slow and deep breaths. He heard sirens a few seconds later. They were coming from the road outside. He fully expected the noise to pass, but then they seemed to get even closer and stop right in front of the hotel.

  Atwater walked over to the windows and pulled the dusty drapes apart. He saw two sheriff’s deputies’ cars in the parking lot below. Four deputies climbed out of the cars and ran toward the lobby, at least he thought that’s where they were headed. He closed the drapes and walked over to the chest of drawers that was under the television on the wall. He’d placed his small bag on top of it the previous night. Atwater reached into the bag and removed a brown sweater and a pair of jeans. He slipped them both on, zipped up the leather bag, and walked over to the nightstand and picked up his cell phone.

  The walls and window were thin, so he could easily hear the deputies running up the stairway. Then he heard them running down the hallway toward his room. Atwater hit the home button on his phone and scrolled through his call log. He found Penfield’s name and pressed send a second before the deputies banged on his door.

  ***

  “Hello,” Penfield said.

  “They’ve come for me, Alex.”

  “Who’s come for you? Where are you?”

  “The sheriff’s department. I’m at the hotel, but it’s clear I won’t be here much longer.”

  “He’s taken her,” Penfield said.

  He was about to talk more, but then he stopped when he heard pounding in the background through Atwater’s phone. He guessed what it was.

  “The boy, Alex. You must solve the mystery of his death.”

  “We already know how he died.”

  “No. He was murdered. I don’t know how, but his death was no accident.”

  Penfield stood and walked out of the marina office.

  “How do you know?”

  “Find out who killed him, and it may help you discover who has Emma.”

  Penfield heard another loud bang in the background, and he assumed the sheriff’s department had just kicked in the door to Atwater’s hotel room.

  “Goodbye, Alex, and good luck.”

  “Down on the ground!” Penfield heard a man yell in the background.

  The call abruptly ended. Penfield slipped the phone back into his pocket. He exited the marina office and walked through the parking lot to head back to the cardboard box. It was still there. It had been almost twenty minutes since he’d reported it to the authorities, and they still weren’t here.

  Penfield walked past the box and entered the woodline where he thought he saw the man on the security footage. He examined the ground and found some freshly broken twigs from a pine tree. Penfield walked through the woods and exited out the other side where he saw a thick marsh like the one behind the Tatums’ property. He walked a few feet into the marsh and saw some tall brush that had been recently pushed down.

  He stepped into the mud and walked slowly over to the brush. A section about three to four feet wide had been flattened by some large object. It had to be a boat. Penfield realized that’s how the killer was making his way around Gloucester. The Ben Hall and Bill Tatum properties were miles apart, which meant a boat would have had to navigate a variety of waterways. Either the killer was very adept at reading nautical maps, or he was from the area.

  Penfield looked at his watch. He had just three more hours to find Emma.

  Chapter 25

  He Never Loved Him

  Penfield remembered Emma telling him that Sally Tatum was staying with her son after the break-in of her house. He didn’t know if she’d moved back home after Charles Ray’s arr
est, but he didn’t remember seeing her car there earlier that day. Maybe it had been parked inside the garage. Penfield gambled and headed straight for Charles Ray’s trailer. He’d previously looked up the address when he thought he might have to interview Charles Ray himself. He found the house easily enough since Emma had also told him about the leaning mailbox.

  He turned off the main road and drove down the long dirt driveway. He didn’t see any vehicles when he arrived at the trailer. Maybe her son had driven her over here, and she was now effectively stranded since his pickup truck had been impounded by the sheriff’s department. Penfield parked in front of the trailer and climbed out of his car. He walked up the few stairs and knocked on the screen door. There was no response.

  Penfield knocked again.

  “Mrs. Tatum, my name is Alex Penfield. I’d like to talk to you about your son.”

  Penfield waited a few more seconds, but he still didn’t hear anything. He knocked a third time.

  “Mrs. Tatum, I know your son is innocent. Please, he needs your help.”

  Penfield heard movement inside the trailer. The metal door opened a moment later.

  “Who are you?” Sally Tatum asked through the torn screen door.

  She was wearing a tattered robe, and her hair was uncombed. Penfield could see the stress written across her face. She looked like she probably hadn’t slept since seeing that intruder days ago.

  “Ma’am, my name’s Alex Penfield. I’ve been working with the sheriff’s department. We met the other day at your home. I’m very sorry for all that’s happened to your family.”

  Penfield waited for a response. Sally just stared at the ground.

  “May I come in, Mrs. Tatum? I just want to ask you a few questions. I won’t take up much of your time.”

  Sally didn’t look up, but she did step back a few paces. Penfield pulled the screen door open and entered the trailer. He followed Sally over to a sofa. She sat down on one end. Penfield hesitated a moment, not sure if he would appear to be too informal to sit down beside her. He didn’t want to tower over the small woman, though, so he sat on the opposite side.