by Lynn Moon
“Yeah, when I was a kid I remember coming here with my uncle to fish just over that ridge. With only a train and no roads, we had to hike to the lake. Our walk took us right by the large hospital. He said the people who lived there were crazies and they had weird things wrong with them.”
“Really?” Carrie asked still staring out over the large abyss. “Interesting story.”
Mick shook his head before adding, “But whatever was here is definitely not here anymore. I mean, talk about sterilization. It will take decades before anything looks normal again. I wouldn’t doubt if this crater becomes a lake someday. The water table’s pretty high in these mountains and there’s already some at the bottom.”
As Mick walked back to join his partner, Carrie’s mind began to churn. Then it hit her. She suddenly knew what had been bothering her this whole time, and she wanted to kick herself for not seeing it before.
“Well, thanks for the shots. I really appreciate it,” Zack added, showing Carrie and the girls a digital picture of their backs sitting on the logs in front of the huge crater. “If they want these in the magazine they’ll contact you. You want a copy? I can email it. Right now. Skyler gave me all your contact information.”
“Nah,” Carrie replied. “Be more exciting to see it in the magazine. Send us one if we ever make the centerfold.”
“Okay, thanks.” Mick laughed. The two left and walked down the sloping side of the crater toward the bottom.
“Damn,” Carrie stated as she stood next to the other girls. “I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of this before.”
“What?” Skyler asked.
“Come on, I’ll explain.” Carrie turned and headed back to the train station.
“Wait Carrie,” Lacey yelled. “Why did you tell them we didn’t need a copy of the picture? I want one.”
Chapter 25
SHADOWS FROM THE ambient light created an ominous aura around the room. The room was exceptionally quiet as the small group sat patiently around the oval mahogany table. Lewis entered from the back with a stench of authority. The walls echoed his black silhouette as if recording the event for some future unknown reason. Footsteps were the only sounds, but even those were muffled by the heavily carpeted floor and soundproof brick walls.
“Let’s get started,” Lewis demanded heading for the podium. “We received an urgent but unsettling message with photos this morning on the secured line.”
Lewis nodded to the excited but quiet agents sitting at the oval table.
“I’m not going to sugar coat this.” As he spoke the words, a photo flashed on the screen behind him. “As you can see, these are bones of what looks like an animal. However, if you look closer you’ll see they resemble humans more. The local authorities sent us these fragments for analysis. What came back was horrifying. I received the results this morning.”
Lewis pushed a small button on the podium and the screen changed to another picture of an unusual skeleton laid out on a metal table.
“The results, people, are these bones are indeed both human and… animal,” Lewis stated turning to also look at the screen.
“So, a human and an animal were buried together?” One of the female agents asked from the back of the table. “We can plainly see for ourselves the skull is… or looks feline… perhaps a cat?”
“Agent Schuster?” Lewis asked.
“Yes,” Schuster replied. “Hybridologist, sir.”
“Expert in the field of cross-breeding if I remember my briefing correctly,” Lewis interjected. He started to walk toward her but then stopped short. “Some things may not be as they appear, Doctor.”
“But no human head could possibly resemble that,” she stated. “The human skull is unique and mimics no other. But the animal kingdom has several species that resemble the same skull shape and size.”
“Thank you, Agent Schuster,” Lewis added clicking another upsetting display onto the screen. “But do animal skulls contain human DNA? Do animals wear clothing?” he asked raising an eyebrow.
“Are you saying those bloody clothes were around those bones?” another agent asked.
“Agent Abuline?” Lewis asked. “Your specialty is Forensic Analysis correct?”
“Yes sir,” Abuline replied.
Lewis added, “We’ll need each of your specialties on this case. We have samples in the lab for you to examine.”
“Samples?” A petite woman who didn’t look much over sixteen lowered her eyes as she spoke.
“Ah, Agent Bonneville, how nice to see you,” Lewis smiled and winked. “Our DNA expert.”
All heads turned and stared at the young-looking woman who smiled innocently back at them.
“To answer your concerns, the bones are missing,” Lewis replied. “They were stolen from the morgue shortly after the samples were sent to us. It’s been reported they were not to have been taken until the following day. However the doctor in charge had a special meeting planned so he prepared the samples personally that evening instead. Whoever took the bones and the clothing was not aware the samples were already locked away in a freezer.”
“It’s still impossible for those to be human,” Dr. Tabatha Schuster demanded with an odd look written all over her face.
Lewis handed each agent a file folder then stood back. “Examine the results for yourself. You’ll also have access to the samples in our lab. Once you’ve talked yourself into it, let me know. We have a lot to cover.”
“What do you want from us?” Agent Bonneville asked.
“This is your next case,” Lewis replied. “Highly classified, as all our assignment are of course, but this one is unique. I want nothing, absolutely nothing to leave your lips. You discuss this only inside the secure rooms. Nothing and I mean nothing, leaves this building. Not even you.”
“Sir?” Agent Abuline asked.
“You are being sequestered until your research is finished. Once you’ve completed your initial reports you will be visiting the site where these bones were found. You will conduct a full investigation, but I don’t want anyone to know who you are or why you are there. Understand?”
The agents nodded.
“I knew I could count on you,” Lewis added. “It is imperative The Agency knows what these bones are and who they belonged to. Also, the age and perhaps time of death. We are not sure if these are of a recent or ancient individual. We also need to know how this individual died.”
“Yes sir,” the agents said at once.
“The only others who know, or think they know, are the original doctor and a few police officers in the small town where the remains were discovered,” Lewis explained.
“But sir,” a small man said who had not spoken before. “If this is a human, then it could only mean…”
“I know what it might mean,” Lewis almost yelled. “But we will not speak of it. Not until we are sure. Understand, Agent Mirada? You keep your conclusions for your classified reports.”
The other agents stared at the miniature Agent Mirada who had a look of horror on his face. His eyes were wide and his mouth gaped open. Lewis gave him a look that left nothing to the imagination. He understood Mirada knew immediately he was not allowed to speak a word of his suspicions, but it was those few unspoken words that scared the life out of the other agents.
Chapter 26
THE ATTORNEYS SAT around a small table in a small room at a rather large and unimpressive hotel. Each one held the same agenda and the same purpose, to gather information that would acquit their clients. After several minutes of silence, Drake swallowed and loosened his tie. He knew at a glance he was the youngest and least experienced attorney at the table, and he also knew they all expected him to lead the meeting. Staring at the stern faces, he thought of Early’s expression when she realized where she was. Her fear was so strong he could feel it, and that disturbed him to the point of realizing he was all she had. It was at that point Drake knew she was innocent, and she honestly knew nothing about how or why her family died.
“Uh… uh…” Drake cleared his throat as he rubbed his hands together. He felt inferior around these other great lawyers. Some were famous for their past cases they had won, others were just well known because of who they are. “Uh, I’m Drake Anderson and I’m so,” Drake had to clear his throat again, “glad you could come.”
“I’ve come to the conclusion there’s more here than I’ve been led to believe,” Darrell Westmore from California stated when Drake paused. “The crime scene was just too over-staged from my point of view.”
“Exactly what I thought about my case.” Justin Combs from New Mexico added in excitedly.
Judy Stonebridge shifted in her chair then said firmly, “My client weighs in at just over a hundred pounds. It’s physically impossible for her to have done what the authorities claim. There’s just no way.”
“My client is very caring and loving. If someone sneezes she’ll jump to find a tissue,” Kelly Starks from Montana explained. “It would have taken more than courage to kill her family. I understand there are mothers out there who kill their children. But my client only gives and never takes. These actions are simply not a part of her personality.”
The room became quiet. Drake glanced around and realized Ash Kranton from Florida had not yet said a word. “Mr. Kranton? You’re very quiet over there. What’s going through your mind?”
Ash took in a deep breath then coughed. He shifted in his chair then righted himself. “I keep asking myself if this could be some kind of a scheme from a rather unique serial killer. But the killings are too widespread to be from one person. So then I must ask myself, what in the hell is going on? These children are slaughtered beyond recognition to the point of mutilation. The husbands as well.”
“Oh my,” Kelly popped up.
“What?” Drake asked.
“If our clients didn’t do it, then we must ask ourselves who did?”
“Okay,” Drake said wondering where she was taking this idea.
“So, why the mutilation? To shock? No, simply killing the whole family would be shock enough,” Kelly stated, then she lowered her voice as she concluded. “We mutilate to hide… to cover up.”
“Hey,” Darrell Westmore added. “What if the remains are not our real victims?”
“Bait and switch?” Drake asked.
“But for what purpose?” Ash Kranton added.
Drake suddenly felt equal and declared, “Who the hell cares at this point. Let’s get some DNA tests ordered.”
Drake was certain, more so than before, of his client’s innocence. He felt revived, but at the same time overwhelming grief for this innocent, confused woman he represented.
Drake’s cell phone rang from his pocket.
“Drake! It’s Shelby. Early’s been taken to the hospital.”
* * * * * *
Drake stood next to Early’s bed. Her face was badly bruised and the bandages barely covered the stitches.
“I’m so sorry, Early,” Drake whispered to the sleeping woman. “I am so sorry.”
Drake picked up Early’s hand and kissed it. He turned and motioned for his wife, Vickie, to join him. Vickie walked up to her husband and placed her hands on his back. She glanced down at Early and closed her eyes.
“This is the baby killer?” Vickie whispered.
“Supposedly.”
“But she doesn’t look like a baby killer,” Vickie surmised.
“I don’t believe she is one. This is why I wanted you to come with me.”
“But the news makes her out to be such a bad ass.”
“I know,” Drake replied putting his arm around his wife. “That’s why I don’t watch the news.”
“I don’t understand,” she said with her heart breaking.
“Neither do I,” Drake answered. “Neither do I.”
Chapter 27
IT WAS COLD and the rain was winning the small battle. Charlotte shivered as she pulled more of her socks from the drawer and shoved them around the old window. She rubbed her hands vigorously together as she blew her warm breath over her cold and aching fingers. The strong wind rattled the glass pane and frightened her. All she needed now was a broken or cracked window to complete the freezing process. It was cold enough in her room already. She did not wish for the wind to blow directly through her room too.
“Darn!” she whispered as she turned and glanced around her small and tidy space. “There has to be something better.”
Giggles echoed from across the hall and a song blared from a radio in the adjoining room. Charlotte tightened her robe about her waist and opened her door. The dark hall was long and narrow. For some strange reason, it seemed even colder out here than in her room. But how could that be possible? Sounds of scuffles from her slippers against the shiny wooden floor echoed off the walls as she hurried toward the stairs. Dancing candlelight followed her from along the walls as she skipped. She loved how the aroma from the fireplace several floors below drifted all the way up here to her room. But at this moment she would prefer the heat instead. At the banister, Charlotte leaned out between the slats to see if anyone else was awake besides her. But all she could see was the reflection of the fire dancing against the dark stone walls beckoning her to come and warm herself.
She cautiously descended the stairs while being extra careful not to slip or make any noise. Her foot still ached from her last little mishap. The freshly cleaned stairs can be quite slippery and dangerous if one wore only socks or fluffy slippers. But she was not about to take off her warm pink pig slippers now that her feet were so cold. Besides, she was also wearing socks which would make slipping even more possible. As she descended the rounding stairs, Charlotte was careful to stay away from the large stone walls that emanated the cold from the outside. Living in a large castle, as she called it, did not have the greatest means for keeping everyone in the house comfortable.
When she reached the main hall, Charlotte adjusted her robe. With no one in sight, she hurried to enjoy the heat from the large fireplace. The stone hearth was taller than any of the adults in the castle. Large sculptured lion heads adorned each side. During the warm summer months when the fireplace was not in use, Charlotte would play within the deep recesses pretending the lion’s heads were her guardians and she was their princess. Together, they would hold long conversations that would help to pass the long boring days. Although it was almost spring, a sudden and unexpected cold front brought a severe snowstorm that required the continuous burning in the large fireplace in order to warm the extra large house.
“Chilly missy?” The unexpected voice from the large red-velvet chair startled her.
Charlotte forgot to check the furniture before dashing through the room.
“Sorry sir,” she curtsied and then turned to run back upstairs. To be out of bed at this time would bring a strong punishment and she didn’t need any more trouble today. She was already on restriction for trying to glide across the small lake that reflected the beauty of the large house that lay just beyond the tree line.
“Come here, missy,” the deep voice stated.
Now she knew she was in trouble and there was nothing she could do. The Master of the house had caught her red-handed. Charlotte walked meekly to the large over-stuffed chair and rested her hands on the smooth velvet arm. She loved to rub her hands over the soft velvet—the nap is smooth in one direction and rough in the other.
“Now, either you are not sleepy…” he began, “or, you are cold. Which is it?”
“Cold sir,” Charlotte said so softly he could barely hear her.
“Come to me,” he said opening his arms.
Charlotte climbed into his lap as he cuddled her in a warm embrace. It was wonderful resting in his strong arms. She could smell the lingering aroma of pipe tobacco on his clothes, which always made her feel safe and secure. Charlotte cuddled up a little closer.
Parting her hair with his hands, he kissed her head and whispered, “You know you are not supposed to be out of bed.”
; “I know, but it’s so cold up there,” she pleaded, “in my room.”
“I see. But you have the feather bed and all those heavy warm blankets. You should be as warm and snug as a bug in a rug,” he chuckled.
“But the snow,” she whispered.
“What about the snow?”
“It comes in under my window.”
He paused for a moment then held her a little tighter.
“I see,” he replied. “That will have to be fixed now won’t it?”
He stood up and laid her gently in the large chair. He pulled the small knitted throw over her body and tucked her in. After stretching out his back, he pulled the cord that dangled near one of the lion’s heads. Within seconds, a man in uniform stood at the double glass doors by the hallway.
“Would you summon Bart for me please?” the man with the pipe asked.
“But it’s late, sir,” the man in uniform replied.
“I don’t care what time it is. One of my ladies is having a problem with her window. Now where’s Bart?”
“Yes sir, I will fetch him at once.”
“Okay young lady,” Steward said with a smile to the little bundle in the big chair. “If he can’t fix your window tonight, we’ll find some place warm for you to sleep.”
Charlotte smiled and yawned. “Thank you, sir.”
It was hard for her to keep her eyes open. The day had been long and she was quite tired. As she watched the flames dance, Charlotte closed her eyes for only a few seconds, but was soon fast asleep and as warm as ever.
Steward watched as the small child slept peacefully and shook his head in disbelief. She was so frail and tiny. At only a little over two feet, Charlotte could not weight much more than twenty pounds. But she was adorable at the sweet age of six and she was his favorite.
“Sir?” Bart’s voice echoed through the room.
“It seems Ms. Charlotte’s window needed attending. But this is probably impossible tonight. Would you please set up a cot in my room for her? Close to the fire, but not too close.”