Dark Mind

by Jennifer Chase

  Lani leaned back on the lumpy couch, sighed, and pondered a possible scenario.

  Did she have contact with this man?

  Clarence Rasmussen stared back at him in the photo, smug and dangerous, possibly holding the answers he needed. Rasmussen was thirty-two years old, over six feet tall, dark blonde hair, green eyes, and had a muscular build. He had the eyes of a predator.

  Lani made several notes that he would check out on his work computer.

  How many violent sexual predators were residing on the island?

  At least fifty men, thought Lani. A good place to start was to pay a visit to Rasmussen, but now, he also had to connect the first victim Carolyn Sax to Amanda Zeller.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty

  Saturday 1910 Hours

  Bullets showered the jungle around Emily and Jordan. They cringed at every blast praying that one wasn’t going to be a fatal shot.

  Emily inched a few steps backward out of a survival instinct, she stopped just at the edge of the long drop. A waterfall of at least seventy feet poured down the cliff into a wading pool.

  Hurried voices rang out. Approached fast.

  “I see them!” Yelled one of the men.

  Dogs barked.

  “Don’t let them get away!”

  Bullets pummeled even closer to Emily, near her head. Thuds and zings radiated all around them.

  “Why am I feeling déjà vu all over again?” Jordan retorted as he spotted the remnants of an old rope bridge to their left, twisted and knotted from another time. He leaned down and picked up a piece of rope, tugged at it as hard as he could, and wrapped it quickly around his waist securely tying a knot.

  “What are you doing?” Emily asked.

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “Jordan.”

  “Put your arms around my neck.”

  “Jordan?”

  “Do it!”

  “I don’t now if…”

  “NOW!”

  Emily flung her arms around Jordan’s neck pressed up against his body, turned her head to the left and peered down at the long drop if they didn’t make it. They would be smashed against the rocks, every bone broken, and then riddled with hunter’s bullets.

  “Hang on!”

  Emily turned to face Jordan, clutched his neck tighter feeling his body tense in anticipation, squeezed her eyes shut as he took three steps and jumped.

  “Jordan!”

  They dove off the cliff, effortless and free falling.

  Emily felt her stomach rise to her throat, she let out a strangled, feral cry in response.

  The waterfall turned up its volume as they floated into the unknown.

  Jordan’s body tensed tighter in her grip bracing for the worst as Emily held on for dear life, pressing her right cheek against his.

  Emily’s mind processed the free fall in slow motion, as it seemed to take forever to end. She didn’t have time to think of everything in her life, just survival. Warm tropical breezes blew through her wet hair and rippled up the back of her shirt.

  They abruptly came to the end of the rope.

  It snapped from Jordan’s waist, jerking them to a sudden change of direction. The rope whipped in its own direction, sending the two people spinning in a double cartwheel motion.

  Down, down, down they plummeted.

  Emily wasn’t sure if Jordan was beside her or if he was even still tied to the rope. She exhaled just before she hit the water with a plunging force. The immense pressure pressed against her body and face into darkness as she struggled to get to the surface, lungs burning.

  Relieved after she broke the water’s surface, she took a deep breath of fresh air just in front of the waterfall.

  Shadows intertwined strange shapes through the flowing water and nearby trees.

  Emily treaded water, pumped her legs, and turned a full revolution looking for Jordan. She didn’t see him, no bubbles or splashes. Oh God, she thought.

  Did he get tangled in the rope or smash against the rocks?

  “Looking for me?” He faced her with half a goofy grin and half a terrified expression.

  “Jordan!” She hugged him. “I’m so glad that you’re okay.”

  He hugged her a little too tight, too long, feeling her wet body against his. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” She pushed herself away from Jordan to give some distance between them. “Remind me, if I ever want to do that again, just tell me to go to hell.”

  A couple of bullets ricocheted from the cliff above them.

  Emily looked up and saw the hunting party gawking down at them with the two panting hounds that desperately tried to find a trail down.

  “C’mon.” Jordan led the way to the waterfall, out of target range, where there was an area for them to get to the land. Narrow, but stable, they hoisted their soaked bodies out of the water.

  Emily and Jordan scrambled as fast as they could back to a trail heading in the direction of the beach. They didn’t bother to stop and chat or discuss what had happened, they ran as fast as their exhausted bodies carried them.

  “Look!” Jordan pointed to the welcoming sands of the beach.

  Emily was relieved, especially when she saw Rick and Matt waiting for them. They looked worse for wear, but unscathed by their own experiences.

  “Rick...” Emily whispered in gratitude as she wrapped her wet arms around him. She kissed him more than once and wanted to feel the warmth of his lips and strong body against hers. It made everything seem back to normal and safe.

  “What happened to you guys?” Rick asked.

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “C’mon it was loads of fun.” Jordan laughed nervously.

  “Uh, let’s get out of here unless you still want to play some more with those guys.” Explained Matt.

  They climbed aboard the catamaran and never glanced back.

  Matt continued to apologize the entire trip back for putting the group in harms way.

  Emily distanced herself from the guys as they recounted their harrowing tales of escape from the ruthless pot farmers. They seemed to take the day’s adventure in stride, but she knew that Rick felt unsettled about the island and what could be in store for them if they stayed to pursue the roaming killer.

  She made mental notes of the possible ways that a serial killer could navigate on the island and what type of criminal profile would be indicative of this person. All types of suspects from locals, criminals hiding out, new residents looking for specific victims, registered sex offenders, and even crazed ex-boyfriends wielding a knife in a local restaurant made the list. And now, pot farmers increased the list of potential suspects.

  Her investigative thoughts interrupted by the buzz of conversation between the others made her take notice. It immediately caught her attention and she rejoined the group.

  Matt looked at his cell phone application and said, “Hey, according to the local police scanner there was another homicide reported earlier today. Wow, nothing like this ever happens around here.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sunday 0950 Hours

  “Thank you.” Lani took the cup of coffee from Alex in the dainty teacup and saucer painted with Hawaii’s official yellow hibiscus flower. Steaming, just the way he liked it with a teaspoon of sugar and a generous amount of milk, he took a sip. “Alex, what’s on your mind?”

  She looked burdened that resulted from lack of sleep. Her usual bright green eyes were dark and tired.

  “Well…” She began.

  Lani patiently waited and took another sip of the brew and hoped it would jumpstart his mind before his shift.

  Alex hesitated and seated herself comfortably in the big, overstuffed armchair before she continued. She crossed her legs and smoothed her full floral skirt. “You know that I can’t discuss patients outside of therapy unless they sign a release form.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve counseled my fair share of se
x offenders and men who have committed violent crimes against women.”

  Lani nodded. He wanted his friend to unburden herself.

  “There have been some things that have come to light about a patient. I believe it’s possible that he might be dangerous to the public.”

  Lani put down his cup and leaned forward. “We’re talking about Timmy?”

  “Yes.”

  “What makes you think he’s dangerous to the public?

  “I saw him.”

  “What do you mean?” He asked.

  Alex rubbed her barefoot on the rug, silver anklet jingling with tiny charms, and stared intently at the patterned knap her foot left behind.

  “Alex, you know you can talk to me.” Lani softened his tone. They were once more than friends. For a brief moment, he remembered how tender and loving she could be.

  “I know.” She looked up at him. “I was in town and I recognized Timmy sitting in his car, just watching.”

  “Watching what?”

  “He was watching women come and go, but…”

  Lani waited for her to continue.

  “The women looked very similar to the description of the two murdered women.” She let out a breath. “I know I sound silly, but isn’t it possible that he’s stalking these same types of women?”

  “It’s possible.” Lani didn’t readily think so, but he wasn’t going to rule anything out. “I thought he was improving with therapy.”

  “He was, but in the last couple of months, he’s so fixated on things he’s perceived as bad.” She stood up. “I’ve said more than I should, I’m sorry.”

  Lani stood and faced her. “It’s okay Alex, I’m glad that you told me.” He pulled her to his chest and hugged her tight. He could feel the tension in her body, arms slightly trembling, because he knew how hard it was for her to confide in anyone.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sunday 1650 Hours

  “Tada!” Jordan dropped his luggage in the entrance hall with a loud bang on the European tiles. The sound echoed down the long hallway that led into an enormous living room.

  Emily and Rick stood at the entrance and stared at the magnificent home.

  An open breezeway with tall tropical plants bowed gently from the island light wind. Dark mahogany floors throughout the house expertly installed in various sized strips. The artwork consisted of abstracts in pale blues, greens, and beiges on one large billboard size canvas. The inviting gourmet kitchen with hanging copper pans opened into a bar area that overlooked the massive living room.

  The casual eye initially bypassed the interior of the house to catch the outdoor vista, a two-tier swimming pool and hot tub, blooming plants, lounge chairs, and a cascading waterfall, which led to the private white sandy beach.

  “C’mon, don’t be shy.” Jordan dramatically walked into the living room waving his arms. “What do you think? We each get a private bedroom and there’s room for friends.” He faced Emily and said, “Oh, but what am I saying you’ll both be sharing a bed of course. Might I suggest the cozy bedroom that opens to the pool? Midnight swims?”

  “Jordan, are you sure it’s okay to stay here? This isn’t some kind of joke, right?” Emily asked.

  “It’s not a problem and we can stay for as long as we like. I did several security jobs for these nice folks, Erin and Jonathan Chambers, and they said I could stay at any of their vacation spots…Vail, Belize, Miami, and they just happened to have one here on Kauai. I put in a quick call and voila…” He raised his hands in the air. “Look at that view. Besides, we’re going to need a nice place to sleep and this can be our own private clubhouse with five bedrooms and six bathrooms.” He looked pointedly at Rick. “Plenty of security too.”

  Rick remained quiet as he looked around. He finally agreed. “I hate to admit it, but Jordan’s right. We need a place where we can come and go where no one will notice. I’ll feel better knowing we have some extra security too.”

  “Great. Who’s up for a dip before we get down to business?” Jordan began unbuttoning his freshly starched white shirt, already showing off his tan from the previous day’s events.

  * * * * *

  Emily quickly settled into the room Jordan suggested, which opened out to the pool, unpacked clothes and toiletries, and was eager to get started on the investigation, while Rick volunteered to get some additional supplies and groceries.

  After taking a tour of the house and double-checking the security system, she decided that the small den off of the kitchen was the perfect place to set up for their headquarters. She made use of some supplies already stocked in the room, a dry eraser board, two bulletin boards, sticky notes, pushpins, and various magnets. By moving the two small desks together, she was able to set up their two laptops to the live WiFi.

  The house remained quiet, except for the occasional splash as Jordan dove into the pool. She knew he was blowing off steam and stress from yesterday. Emily wanted to get her thoughts together and began to peel away clues of the investigation, while it was still fresh in her mind.

  With one dry eraser pen, she made a list of the first crime scene at the sugar plantation along with her observations and experiences on the island up to date. She cross-referenced the possible suspects, broad at first, and then she tightened up the perp pool. There were holes to her investigation where she realized what she needed to investigate. It proved to be a big undertaking.

  In dark blue printed letters, she wrote: autopsy report, victimology, registered sex offenders, hotel employees in contact with victim. Vic #2 info?

  On another list: Sergeant Lani Candena, Kauai PD, old man (Hawaiian shaman?), pot farmers.

  A small column list: Killer’s Characteristics: island local (not just Kauai), access ease to island, comes and goes, male, can live off land, fulfilling a need for something, sacrifice?, folklore of islands, outcast behavior, loner, organized, history?

  Tired and sore, Emily decided to take a hot shower and relax before getting to work. Long hours loomed ahead. The hot water soothed her aching muscles and bones. The darkening bruises on the side of her ribcage, and left leg down to her ankle throbbed, but soon weakened to the steam and heat.

  Steam filled the bathroom and seeped into the bedroom with floating, feathery trails. The showerhead cascaded like a sheet from an outdoor waterfall as Emily stood underneath the spray, eyes closed, running the familiar investigative reel of events through her mind.

  Clunk.

  Emily stood up straight and listened, not sure what she heard.

  Boom.

  The noise seemed to be coming from all around her. She quickly turned off the shower, listening intently. “Rick?” No answer. “Jordan, that better not be you screwing around.”

  Emily grabbed a silk robe, slipped it on as it clung to her wet body, hastily tied the sash around her waist, hair dripping, and emerged from the shower.

  She expected to see Rick unpacking his clothes and supplies. The bedroom looked the same, brown suitcases stacked neatly in the corner, bed made with large king size pillows leaned up against the headboard, and island brochures on the edge of the dresser.

  Nothing had changed.

  A low buzzing noise resonated.

  Emily remained still, cocked her head to try and figure out the location of the sound. It continued to buzz. She realized that it must be an alarm, not the blaring, annoying screech, but a soft alarm that alerted police dispatch.

  A large shadow passed by her sliding door sheers, hesitated a moment, and then moved on.

  Slowly pulling open the doors, Emily listened for voices or any other noises. Nothing. She stopped. Realizing that she didn’t have anything to defend herself, she spotted a long metal bar used to open the high windows.

  Gripping the last minute weapon tight in her right hand, she stepped out to the cool cement walkway. The ground was a drastic contrast compared to the hot shower.

  The alarm continued to buzz, hypnotic and unfailing.

 
; Between the soft waves on the beach, a distinct shuffle and strange grunt interrupted the relaxing island tempo.

  Emily tiptoed down the walk and peered around the corner. Not a person in sight. She decided to investigate the small storage building on the side of the property. Just as she was about the turn the corner, a Glock barrel pushed into her face only a few inches from her nose.

  “Drop your weapon!” A young, eager uniformed police officer demanded.

  Emily watched as the rookie’s gun shook in his hands. “Take it easy.” She said and slowly put down the steel rod. It made a clink on the stepping stones. “I’m a guest here.”

  The officer spoke into his radio, “I have one woman - over.”

  “Look Officer…” Emily squinted her eyes to read his identification. “…Richardson, I’m a guest of Mr. and Mrs. Chambers.” Her annoyance grew. “Do I look like a burglar to you?” Her thin robe clung to her body and her hair still dripped from the recent shower.

  “Well… well… I’m going to need a crystal ball to figure out where you’re going to show up next.” Sergeant Candena joined the awkward situation as he gave Emily a once over. To the officer he said, “It’s okay, Ms. Stone is a guest here.”

  Officer Richardson holstered his gun, looked sheepish for jumping to conclusions, and left to check the remaining area.

  The buzzing abruptly stopped.

  Emily turned and walked toward the sliding door to her bedroom.

  “Ms. Stone, I can’t help but think you’re following me.” Lani smiled and waited for a response.

  “Sergeant Candena it was an honest mistake, the alarm got tripped by my friend.”

  “Lani.”

  “What?”

  “I think you can call me Lani, since we’ve run into each other three times now.”

  “Well, Sergeant Candena, everything is fine and I’m sorry that you wasted a call out here.” She hated that her presence brought so much attention. It could hamper their covert investigation.