Heaven's Eyes

by Jason A Anderson

  The two kids squealed, even as Nick managed to twist out of their way. A moment later, the children went silent with an audible, “Oof!”

  Nick looked behind, concerned that he’d see a pair of terrified children at Alexander’s feet. What he did see surprised him. Alexander, a giant of a man that towered over the two adolescents, knelt down before the young girl, now sitting where she’d fallen. Nick stared in amazement as his bodyguard, a man he’d seen successfully overpower three street thugs with only the fabric of his shirt as a weapon, knelt down before the little girl and offered her his hand. The smile on his face was one Nick had never seen before: caring. His expression even touched his usually harsh eyes and the little girl’s fear melted away as she placed her little hand in his massive paw.

  Alexander helped her stand, then brushed off her sun dress and winked at the boy that had been chasing her.

  “Chiquita!” a heavily set woman that looked a lot like her daughter exclaimed and hurried over to them. She locked gazes with Alexander for a brief instance, then spoke to the kids in rapid-fire Spanish as she hustled them away.

  Nick watched the woman and the children get swallowed up by the crowd, then he glanced over at Alexander. The stern man’s hard gaze had returned. After a moment of silence, he growled, “What?”

  Smiling, Nick nodded in the direction they were headed and said, “C’mon, you old softie.”

  Alexander maintained a looming silence as Nick led the way to one of the trendier female clothing shops, Nicolette’s.

  “Okay,” Nick said, stopping outside the glass display walls. The colorful clothing draped around posing mannequins, created a rainbow effect along the polished stone tile. “So, this is it.”

  Beside him, Alexander was suspiciously silent. Nick looked up at him, and almost laughed. He’s full of surprises! he thought to himself, taking in the discomfort on Alexander’s face.

  “Let’s go,” Nick James said and headed into the store.

  The atmosphere felt lighter, possibly from the polished white tile floor, accentuated by the upbeat hip-pop music playing over the store’s audio system. A female singer that Nick couldn’t identify lamented the friend she lost when her boyfriend cheated on her.

  Already ready to leave, Nick focused on his objective, making it to the center of the main floor, where the walkway branched to the right and left, as well as continuing forward, before he stopped.

  After a moment, Alexander muttered, “Okay, now where, chief?”

  Nick glanced right, then left, not prepared for this to feel as awkward as it did.

  To his right, movement caught his attention and his eyes saw a pretty teenage girl with fire-red hair straighten from where she was working on one of the clothing displays.

  “Oh! Hello,” she called and nodded to them, setting the pink fleece top on the display stand behind her, before meeting Nick partway to her display project. She didn’t exactly flounce, but there was a lightness, a spring in her step that Nick couldn’t help but notice.

  “How can I help you?”

  “My name’s Nick James,” the investigator replied. “My associate, here, is Mr. Alexander.”

  She glanced from Nick to Alexander, not showing the least bit of intimidation.

  “How can I help you, Mr. James? We only sell women and girls’ clothing, so I doubt we have anything that would interest you...” she said, pausing before tossing in, “unless you’re into that kind of thing.”

  The teasing in her eyes brought a humorous twitch to Nick’s smile, but he let the comment linger in the air.

  The girl changed her focus to Alexander. With the number of celebrities that frequented Shadow Valley’s famous snow, Nick was sure she’d seen her share of burly, silent men. Even the ones that looked comfortable in a casual black suit coat that still couldn’t disguise the bulge of a firearm under the surface.

  “I’m looking for a girl named Jean Archer,” Nick satisfied the social niceties. “I’m told she works here.”

  Not distracted by the investigator’s disarming charm, or intimidated by his associates mere presence, the girl said, “What do you need... Mr. James, was it?”

  After a momentary pause, Nick said, “I thought it might be you. Please, call me Nick.”

  Jean met the man’s eyes. “You can call me Jean, as long as we’re being informal, Nick.”

  Nick didn’t tweak at the sarcasm in her comment. Instead, he took a small digital assistant from his jacket pocket. It woke up chiming the first few chords of the “Indiana Jones” theme, which caused Jean to smirk.

  “I wanted to ask you a couple questions about Steam Lake Steel.”

  Her face bland, Jean said, “What do you want to know about that old place? I hear it’s been abandoned for most of my lifetime.”

  Nodding, Nick said, “Yes, but there’ve been some recent events that have brought the place back to the attention of the authorities.”

  “Really...” Jean said.

  Nick picked up a hint of boredom injected into the comment, but rather than calling her on it, chose to let the topic play out.

  “I don’t know if you saw the news last night...” Nick replied without hesitating.

  Jean shrugged, this time obviously feigning an air of disinterest.

  “Seems there was some activity at the mill last night, around midnight. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Jean?”

  Another shrug, this time followed by, “Look, I just sell clothes. I don’t know anything about any... activity... at Scum Lake Steel.” Her tone was guarded, carefully neutral.

  The dilapidated steel mill’s derogatory moniker brought a genuine smile to Nick’s face. “Scum Lake Steel,” he muttered to himself, jotting notes on the digital pad. “Cute.”

  Jean rolled her eyes and began to distance herself from the conversation by forcing interest in the color order of the blouses on the rack beside her.

  “So, you’ve never been to... Scum Lake Steel... before? Never snuck onto the grounds, maybe after dark, to have a look around? Never?”

  For a moment, Nick thought she was going to take the bait. But just as quickly, she took a frilly red blouse off the rack and held it up to Nick, sizing it against his strong frame. “Hmm... no, I don’t think the lace works for you,” she decided, then glanced at Alexander. “Probably not for your silent friend, here, either.” Scowling, she returned the blouse to the rack.

  “Miss Archer,” Nick said, irritation now seeping into his voice.

  Flipping through another few blouses, Jean settled on a pale blue one with more frills and see-through panels than the red one. “Maybe blue,” she muttered and took the blouse, but before she could hold it up to Nick, he scowled at her.

  “Obviously, you don’t have any interest in answering my questions,” Nick said and put the smart phone back into his pocket.

  Laying the blouse across the rack instead of hanging it back up, Jean turned to the investigator. “Look... Nick, I lead a very boring life consisting of ballet, work and school. It’s summer right now and I’m going to be a Senior next year, so the last thing I want to do is wander around some old, dangerous steel plant in the hopes of getting a thrill from seeing shadows in a corner or bats flying through a broken window,” she said.

  Nick paused a few seconds to scan her face, searching for the lie, to the point that Jean began looking uncomfortable under those eyes. Then he nodded, gave her a disappointed smile, and said, “Alexander, I think we’re done here.”

  “It appears so,” Alexander agreed.

  A touch of guilt leaked into her voice as Jean said, “If I hear anything, I’ll let you know. Do you have a card or anything?”

  The sharpness in his green eyes never wavering, Nick James nodded, produced a black business card from a pocket and handed it to her. “Feel free t
o call my office if you think of anything that may be helpful. The families of two security guards would be very grateful to put this behind them.”

  The comment left her stone-faced. Then, giving her a final smile and a nod, Nick James and Alexander left the clothing shop, a wake of silence in their midst.

  When they were a good twenty feel away, Nick caught a glimpse of Jean Archer in the reflection of a chrome display box. She stood silently watching them, worrying the edge of his business card against her chin.

  “What do you think?” Alexander asked. “Was that as fruitless as you made it sound?”

  His mind a whirl, Nick replied, “It actually poses more questions than it answers. Without more to go on, I think it would be best to turn this lead over to the rest of the team. Her conscience may eventually get the better of her, but I’m not willing to wait around for her to fess up to whatever she and her friends were doing at the steel plant that night. We’ve got other leads, better leads, to follow-up on.”

  Alexander nodded and followed Nick through the eatery in silence.

  Chapter 26

  “Combining Forces”

  Detective Mitch Taylor looked up at the stormy night sky as he and his partner, George Mendez, climbed out of their government issued Ford sedan.

  “Man, I hate it when the weather changes so much without warning,” Taylor grumbled and slammed the door. It had only taken a few minutes for the weather to turn from beautiful to treacherous.

  From where he stood at the front of the car, Mendez growled, “Is it really the weather you hate or this PI prick the Mayor is making us work with?”

  Shaking his head, Taylor joined his partner and the two of them walked up to the dark doors of the Shadow Valley SIN office.

  “Don’t get me started,” Taylor replied, banging on the door’s metal frame. Deeper inside the offices, he could see a light on in a back room, which a moment later was broken up as a figure approached the door. He unlocked the door and held it open.

  “Gentleman,” Alexander welcomed them. “Mr. James is waiting for you. Straight back, follow the light.”

  Neither detective said anything as they shook off their rain-spattered overcoats and walked back into the conference room.

  Nick James sat at the expansive table with what looked like photos and pages from a case file spread out in front of him.

  “Gentlemen, thanks for coming,” Nick greeted them, standing and holding out his hand.

  Taylor glanced at Mendez, who only shrugged.

  “I didn’t realize we had a choice,” Taylor said, shaking Nick’s hand with reluctance.

  Nick chuckled and said, “Too bad it’s under such sad circumstances. You guys are soaked. Coffee? It’s good.” He gestured to a pot sitting on a side table.

  This time Taylor didn’t glance at Mendez; he nodded.

  Nick took the time to fix both men a hot drink to their satisfaction, then sat down and gave them both some time to feel the beverage’s warming effects.

  “So, as you know, the Mayor and Chief of Police both want SIN working with you on this. It’s important that these incidents not affect the upcoming Centennial in any way. To accomplish that, Alexander and I will be stepping in to handle our part of the investigation. I don’t feel right shuffling this off to someone else.”

  “Good, that way we can fire you directly, when things go south,” Mendez said.

  Rather than get offended, Nick smiled at the barb. “You’ve never liked me, have you, Detective. Not that I blame you. Private Investigators are notorious for being sloppy, lazy and never focused on the big picture. It’s my hope that, given our history together, we can get past those prejudices and get to the bottom of these murders before any more turn up.”

  Mendez frowned, but didn’t respond.

  Taylor reached into his overcoat pocket and pulled out a halved manila folder. He unfolded it flat on the table and said, “It’s too late for that. We’ve got three more deaths. All bear similar markings to the killings at Nightmare Manor, and the two in the park.”

  “Three more?” Nick asked, holding out his hand.

  Taylor slapped the folder into Nick’s grasp and the investigator pulled the case sheets out and set them on the assortment of papers already before him. He peered at the three individual photos: one male, two females. None of them looked more than twenty.

  The strengthening storm rattled the windows.

  Alexander sat down on Nick’s left and accepted the three case sheets.

  Nick rubbed his forehead and looked up at Taylor. “What do you make of them?”

  Taylor took a heavy breath and replied, “Similar angle of attacks, similar short, double-edged weapon. The shapes cut into the bodies, details that we didn’t release to the press, are nearly identical on all five victims.”

  Nick glanced at Alexander, who shuffled through the pages, then shook his head.

  “We don’t have pictures of the carvings,” Nick said.

  “Those have been given to a specialist in ritualistic runes,” Mendez explained.

  Nick made some notes on a sheet of paper already half full of writing.

  “I took the time to read through the final report you filed on the Nightmare Manor incident. Makes for very interesting reading. I felt like I was reading a horror novel. Do you really believe the things you wrote?” Taylor asked.

  Content to let Alexander read through the new reports in detail, Nick sat back and fixed his gaze on Taylor. “Yes, I do,” he replied. “All of it. Completely.”

  Taylor chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. “How?”

  Nick rubbed the stubble on his chin for a moment, then said, “All I can say is that after I saw a young woman return from the dead with my own eyes, I can’t close my mind off to even stranger possibilities.”

  Taylor fixed his fierce gaze on Nick. “You realize how that makes you sound.”

  “I do,” Nick said.

  “Crazy,” announced Mendez.

  “Yes, thank you,” Nick said. “I got that much.”

  Taylor paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. “I admit, I’ve never seen anything like what happened there. The brutality... unbelievable.”

  “Then we share that, at least. I’ve never seen anything like it before or since.”

  “Until now,” Taylor suggested.

  “Until now,” Nick agreed.

  Taylor cast his eyes over the collage of crime scene photos and notes on the table and shook his head subtly. “Tell you what. Why don’t you handle the... ritualistic stuff and we’ll focus on the mundane aspects of the case, at least until we have a clearer picture of what is really going on.”

  “Detective Taylor, I think that’s a great idea,” Nick agreed.

  Satisfied with the arrangement, Taylor followed Mendez to his feet.

  “Then we’ll have the photos sent over to you as soon as they’re back from the specialist,” Taylor offered.

  “If they’ve been added to the digital case file, I can access them from here,” Nick said.

  This caught Mendez by surprise. “You have access to our computer network?” he demanded.

  Nick smiled his best ‘disarming’ smile. “Access limited to this case only. Friends with the Mayor and all that,” he reminded the detectives.

  Mendez growled under his breath and left the conference room.

  “He’s never going to like me, is he,” Nick observed as casually as he could.

  Taylor shook his head. “And the jury’s out for me, too. Guess we’ll have to wait and see,” he said. “The higher-ups don’t want this complicating the Centennial’s opening this weekend, but I don’t see how we can avoid it.”

  The men were silent as Nick walked them to the office entrance. He unlocked the door and Mendez was first
to disappear into the lightning-saturated night.

  “I’ll compile what I have and get my team cross-referencing anything we have to identify the specific runes. I’ll send you what I’ve got, when it’s not quite such a mess,” Nick offered, holding out his hand again.

  Taylor nodded, looked at Nick’s hand, then walked out into the storm.

  Chapter 27

  “One Song Fits All”

  Across Shadow Valley, tucked into the ranches district of the sprawling town, Jake Andrews stood at the large bay window of the homestead’s main great room. The lightning from the storm illuminated the estate with white-blue strobe flashes, competing with the amber flicker from the light coming from the warming flames in the fireplace.

  Another flicker of lightning and crash of thunder caused the lights in the rustic chandeliers to dim for several seconds, until they slowly returned to full brightness.

  Jake glanced up at the room lights, then abandoned the nighttime view and walked over to his comfortable recliner near the fireplace.

  “Hey, Sunshine,” he said, leaning down to scratch his golden Labrador relaxing beside the chair. The dog awakened long enough to peer at him with amber eyes, then dozed off again.

  With a smile, Jake picked up the deep red acoustic guitar resting against the arm of the chair opposite the side facing the fireplace, then made himself comfortable in his favorite chair. As he pondered the situation that Shannon and Damon in the cottage presented, he passed the time strumming the few basic chords he knew, not trying to string them together into any form of recognizable melody. It still escaped him why he wasn’t bitter or irritated by Shannon showing up at his front door. For no reason he could explain, it just felt right to extend to her this hospitality.

  He didn’t know how long he had sat there, playing what could only very abstractly be described as music, when his wandering thoughts were interrupted by, “Did you ever actually learn how to play?”

  Jake glanced up to find Shannon standing in the entry arch to the room, smiling, the teasing tone in her voice causing her eyes to dance.