Warning! This preview has a few spoilers about the
first book "Fatal Rejection", so read all of that book first.
This is a pre-publication release of the first
four chapters, they have been loosely edited, so just read for the enjoyment if it.
Chapter 1 *
She crashed through the brambles, scratching her face, hands and tearing her clothing. The monster was gaining fast, as she stumbled on a rotten tree limb on the ground, catching herself. She ran on into the dark foreboding woods deeper than she had ever gone before, causing her to lose her direction. She didn’t care, the creature behind her was gaining, which was worse then being lost. Hearing the thing howling and snarling behind her, made her move faster.
She tried to climb a tall embankment, pulling at limbs and roots, trying to get a foothold in the crumbling dirt. She felt a hand on her ankle pulling her back, she kicked and tried to pull away, but the hand held on. She was afraid to look back, to see the monster’s face. She pulled herself up as the hand slipped its grip and she reached the top of the drop-off. She was now in a open field, no hiding places. She kept running forward as she heard the fiend coming over the crest.
The field went on forever as she kept pace ahead of her pursuer. She was losing breath and getting dizzy, she wanted to sit down in the middle of the field. Exhausted now, she sat down and gave up. As she sat, she looked back in tears as the shadowy figure came rushing up and stopped above her holding the huge knife in it’s hand. She closed her eyes and waited, as her head was pulled back, the knife slit her throat draining the blood and life from her. She tried to scream but couldn’t, then it finally escaped her mouth. She screamed loud and long.
"What the hell?" came a voice from her left. She woke to see Dave in bed next to her, sitting up. "Are you all right, babe?"
Sweat was pouring down Sarah’s face as she tried to sit up. Dave helped and put his arm around her. "It’s alright, you just had a bad dream."
"Oh, God. It was horrible. I was running and running, trying to escape from something. It had no form, just a dark shadow," she cried and turned to her live-in love, Sheriff Dave Chandler and said, "I’m not sure which serial killer it was." She was talking about the serial killers that she fought off three months ago in her former house, south of Brinnon, Washington. The killers were given a ticket to hell and Sarah was safe.
She and Dave had lived in his apartment for about a month after her house was put up for sale. They looked at a small house that her friend and real estate agent, Lois Carter, showed them. It was a cute three bedroom house, with a big fenced in yard that her dog, Van Gogh could run in. She named the dog after the painter, because the dog was missing part of one ear. Sarah’s former husband, who was murdered by one of the serial killers, was an artist and he liked Vincent Van Gogh.
"This is the second time you’ve had these dreams. Maybe you should see someone before they get worse?" Dave asked.
"I’m not seeing a shrink. I don’t need a shrink. I’m not crazy."
"I didn’t say you are crazy, you’re not. But we know the reason you are having these dreams. You should at least give it a try. Maybe it can help you to get past the memory."
"Yeah, well Brinnon doesn’t have a shrink."
"Actually, there is a psychologist in town. She helps people with the stress of living in a small town." He laughed. "No, really, she’s a great shrink, but don’t call her that."
"Is she one of the three women you’ve slept with in your sordid past." She smiled and slapped him on the arm, laying back and pulling him to her. She kissed him and grabbed his ass.
"Hey, I’m not cheap. So are you going to see her?"
"If I say no, will it affect any sex between us?"
"It may, I don’t like you screaming in the night."
"You like my screaming when we have sex," she said with a smile.
"Yes, and you sound like a banshee in heat."
"Screw you."
"I hope so." He smiled, kissed her, then they went back to sleep.
Dave got up around seven and dressed to go to fight crime. Luckily there was not much crime in this normally quiet town, other than all the reporters still pestering them about the killing of the serial murderers. They still hounded Sarah when she tried to go shopping or take Van Gogh to the vet to check his injuries from the attack by Harcourt. Dave and his deputies had threatened them with arrest, but they all claimed their rights as the press to tell the world about the incident.
Dave just would force them to get back and life went on. This morning he was ready to go out as he kissed Sarah, still in bed. "Don’t lounge there all day now, I’ll be checking." He laughed and went off. Sarah rolled over and looked at the clock. She looked down to see Van Gogh staring at her by the side of the bed.
"What do you want, food or a crap?" she asked. Van Gogh barked and wagged his tail. "Okay, wait." She pulled herself out of bed and sat on the edge. Van Gogh went to the door and looked impatient. "Okay, hold on."
She stood and put on a robe, following the dog to the back door. Van Gogh was bouncing around as she opened the door and he ran out. "Don't take all day," she yelled.
Sarah dragged herself to the kitchen. She and Dave had remodeled it to be more user friendly towards Sarah. She was not a great cook, but Dave set up the kitchen to have all the appliances handy. The cupboards organized so she could find anything she needed and quickly. Now the chore of fixing breakfast was on Sarah, since Dave was usually off to work early.
She wasn't fond of cooking, but she needed sustenance in the morning so she learned to survive. Dave taught her how to make the great pancakes he had mastered. It took her a while, but she learned and was even able to flip them without hitting the ceiling, or the stove.
She let Van Gogh back in when she saw him bouncing at the back door, and then fed him. She ambled back to the bedroom, showered and dressed to face the world.
What she wanted was a good cup of coffee from Starbucks, but the nearest was over 200 miles away. So she brewed her own cup and took it to the living room. Dave had placed her desk by the big window so she could look out. Unfortunately it was not the great view she had in her last home. Back there she could look out and see the Hood Canal and the sea gulls sailing over the water. In this new home her view was of the long front yard, the main road into town and across the road, a cemetery.
She shivered every time she looked to the cemetery, so she usually tried not to look that far. She was determined to plant trees along the front of the property to block the view.
She sat at the desk, placing the coffee cup on a cup warmer and turned it on. She started up the laptop that held the chapters for the book that she was writing and took a sip of the coffee. It wasn't very tasty, but it provided her the needed caffeine to wake her up. The computer finally started up and she reread the last chapter she wrote.
She sat back and looked over to Van Gogh as he sat next to her chair. His eyes went from her to the laptop and back. "Don't you start badgering me to write. I don't know how these writers can get the motivation to do this. I've been on this for weeks and only have eight chapters done."
Van Gogh made his usual huffing noise that he made when he was bored. "Hey don't take that attitude with me. I'm going to write. I just need inspiration."
She looked out to the cemetery and shivered. "Okay that helped. Now on to murder." She sat forward and started to tap away at the keyboard as Van Gogh went off to lay down by the couch.
All the incidents about the serial killers were still fresh in her mind. The e-mails she had from Harcourt basically confessing to the murders he committed, helped. Hal, her former boss at the publishing company she worked for, said if the book was good, he'd consider taking a shot at it. She was happy and still had a good deal of money from the insurance on her late husband, so they wouldn't starve.
The house on the canal still hadn't sold, so technically she still owned it. She didn't want to live there, after the murders in the living room, it was too creepy. Then she looked out the window. "Was that any creepier than living across from a cemetery?" she said to herself. Van Gogh lifted his head, stared and then went back to sleep.
She spent the next hour writing her story, trying to be as accurate as she could about what had happened. She would cringe when she added the gruesome facts about the murders of all the book editors. She found out from the FBI who investigated Harcourt that he was killing editors and working his way across the country to Sarah. She also found out that he wanted to murder her because she rejected his manuscript years back. To carry a grudge all that time, he had to be a wacko, she thought.
She remembered how Harcourt sat in her living room with his throat slit open and shivered again. Then she looked up just as a hearse and a small procession was passing on its way to the cemetery. Not a sight to see this early in the morning. "Maybe I should go back to bed," she said to Van Gogh. He just snorted and continued sleeping.
*
Chapter 2 *
Dave was trying to get the fax machine to cooperate. He had one last report to send to the FBI in regards to the shootings in Sarah's old house. The crime would just not go away. The machine finally gave a whimper, grabbed onto each sheet of papers and sent them. Dave turned to Virgil, his friend and the new deputy, and said, "We need to update our equipment. This stuff is out of the 80's. Have you heard from Mike?"
Virgil stood at his new desk and said, "He's coming in to work around four, he's been slacking off since he broke his leg. I think he's looking for sympathy."
"Well, he won't get any here. Have you been out on patrol at all this morning?"
"I pulled over two speeders going through town. No crime to report other than Abe Martin's mail box was given a whack again. We picked it up and put it back."
"Someone doesn't like that man. Maybe we'll have to put a stake out on it." Dave laughed.
"I'm not sitting out all night to catch some teenagers with a baseball bat. There are more important things to do."
"Like what Virgil? We have no crime to speak of and we spend more time sitting around the office, catching speeders or hanging at the Halfway House eating pastries and drinking coffee. Hell, the most excitement we've had in years was the serial killers."
"Yeah, I guess we have it easy. But a stake out on a mail box?"
"Be glad you have this job. I'll get you a nice thermos of coffee and a box of donuts to take on your stake out."
"You're serious about this?"
Dave was trying not to laugh out loud, "Don't worry, Virg, hopefully they will stop after last night. But if not, you will be watching."
"Deal, now I have to go put more gas in the cruiser." He said and left the office.
Dave sat at his desk when the phone rang. "Hello?"
"Sheriff Chandler?"
"Yes, may I help you?"
"I'm Special Agent Ron Trombley, FBI in the Seattle office, do you have a minute to talk?"
"I just sent out the last file on the case, didn't you get it?" he said looking to the fax, papers in the out tray.
"I'm not calling about that, it's someone else's case. I'm calling about intel that we received about possible trouble heading your way."
Dave paused waiting for more, nothing came. "And that would be?"
"We have been tracking crime in Seattle and there has been talk of a certain person coming your way."
"You've said that, just who is coming our way?"
"We are not sure, but there is trouble to be expected. This is just a heads up."
"Well, thank you Special Agent, I'll alert all my men to the situation," he said trying not to laugh.
"Very good, you have my number on your caller ID, let me know if you hear anything." He hung up.
"Now that was strange," he said.
"What was strange?" came a voice from behind him. Dave jumped slightly and turned to see Lois Carter standing at the counter.
"Lois, what brings you here?"
"I just wanted to let you know how the house showings have been going."
"And?"
"Well, the economy is still a bit shaky, so there have not been many people interested. Plus what the house is listed for, well… it's a bit high."
"It's what Sarah paid for it, in full. So do houses depreciate like cars?"
"No Dave, it's just people don't have the money now days."
"So why are they looking to buy a house? If they don't have money maybe they should rent. Like Sarah and I are doing with the shack you showed us."
"Shack? Dave, you guys loved the house when I first showed it to you."
"Sorry, I'm just a little annoyed that there are so many things wrong with it. Good thing we are only renting for now. The deal was, if the big house sells then we'd consider buying the shack. We've been having second thoughts, but we're waiting to see what happens."
"Dave, I'll do whatever it takes to make you guys happy. I have other properties I can show you, but Sarah was so anxious to get out of the big house, she agreed to move in."
"Yes, it was a speedy move, but it's not the end."
"And there's the other thing."
"Other thing?"
Lois paused, "I am bound by law and rules and have to inform prospective buyers that there were murders committed in the house. It's been tough to sell after that."
"Yeah, I understand that. I'm sorry if I'm being bitchy, I'm just having some concerns lately."
"You and Sarah aren't having second thoughts about being together?"
"No it's not that, she's having bad dreams about the murders. It's happen only twice now but I think it may happen again. I've mentioned to her about getting help, from Dr. Gladwin, but I think she may not want that help."
"Well, I think you can sway her to getting help. Doris Gladwin is a good therapist, she can help Sarah if no one else can."
"Thanks Lois, but don't you push her to it. Let me work on her, she can be stubborn."
"I'll back off trying to push her, for her own good, but do what you can to get her started."
"I will, thanks."
"Well, I have to be going, just wanted to let you know what was developing on the house. Sorry I have no good news." She gave a brave face and left.
Dave sat thinking on all that happened since Sarah came into town, and into his life. He was totally happy that he found Sarah, but the crime following her was not good. At least the killers were all gone, so hopefully she was safe now. His life was busy now keeping Sarah happy and distracted from the horrible incident. She was doing better now, working on her story, and keeping in touch with her friend in New York, Connie. They were getting the bugs worked out of her story, Sarah writing, Connie editing. He hoped Sarah had no desire to murder her editor.
Dave heard the front door open and Sarah came around the corner with Van Gogh in tow.
"Well, this is pleasant? What are you doing here?" Dave asked.
"I had to get out, and Van Gogh was wanting to take a ride. We turned at the wrong street and ended up here. Crazy huh?"
"I'd wouldn't say crazy. Are you thinking anything more about seeing Dr. Gladwin?"
"I don't know, do you think I may have more bad dreams?"
"It would be good to head it off, before it happens again. Oh and Lois just left."
"I know, I saw her car outside so I waited. I'm not up to seeing her right now. Has she sold the house yet?"
"Still at it, economy is not cooperating. Besides the murders are a deal killer."
"She could just not mention it. She never mentioned the house alarms to me, so why is she telling people about the murders?"
"It's something that would come out eventually and Lois would get in trouble for not disclosing it. The alarms were a feature, the killings were not."
"I guess so. How's everything here? Is Virgil working out so far?"
"He's doing well, he does have some experience. He used to be a security guard in Tacoma, where we met. He went through the training, gun qualifying and everything required to be a deputy. So I'm happy."
"Sure, nepotistic hiring practices helped, too. Did the town council know?"
"Hell, half of them are related to Virgil. It wasn't hard to get him approved."
"So, want to get some fattening donuts at Halfway House?" she asked.
Dave seemed distracted, then looked down to his waistline and smiled. "I guess I can put on a few more pounds, let me call Virgil and tell him where I'll be, then we'll go." He reached for the radio and called Virgil in his car. He finished telling him about being at the restaurant and clicked off.
"Shall we go," he said to Sarah and the three of them left the office.
Dave put Van Gogh in the back of the patrol car and then he and Sarah got in the front. They drove to the restaurant and went in to a booth. Clara came bouncing up and said her spiel and went off to get water for them.
"I don't see any family resemblance to you, so I guess she's not your daughter."
"I told you, I had a brief thing with her mother years before she was born. Now drop it." Dave said sourly.
"Gee, I'm sorry for intruding. I was just trying to be light about it."
"Hey, I'm sorry, I just have my mind on something that's bugging me."
"Care to share it with a civilian?"
He paused and thought about the phone call earlier. "I got a call from an Agent in the FBI office in Seattle, it seemed strange. Not like an official call, very brief and vague. I'm wondering why and who actually called."
"Why don't you call the office there and inquire?"
"Gee, I didn't think of that. Maybe it's worth a few minutes to find out."
Clara came back with their waters and took their orders. They both decided on steak and eggs. Dave studied Clara's features and remembered her mother back when he and she were dating.
He smiled as Sarah said, "Get your mind out of the gutter and make a call to the FBI."
Dave gave her a grin and pulled his cell phone. He ran through his contact list and found the office in Seattle, he dialed. After a few rings someone answered and he asked for Agent Ron Trombley, the person on the other end took a moment to check and came back. Dave listened and then hung up.
He looked to Sarah and said, "Now I'm wondering, there is no agent by that name in the Seattle office, or anywhere in Washington State. This has me worried."
*
Chapter 3 *
Back in his office, Dave wrote down the phone number from his caller ID, that came in from the mysterious caller. He studied it for a moment, the area code was from the Seattle area, so that much was real.
"Are you going to call, or just sit there thinking about it?" Sarah said from the chair next to his desk.
"Give me a minute, I'm organizing my attack on this."
"By the time you're organized, I'll have grey hair."
Dave gave her a frown, then picked up the phone and dialed. The phone kept ringing on the other end, then the voicemail female did her speech to leave a message. Dave hung up and sat back.
"No answer, and the voicemail didn't give a name of the person on the other end. Makes me think it may be a throwaway phone. I'll call a friend in the FBI and give him the number, they can trace it better."
"Do you think it may be a prank? We've had all kinds of weirdos since this all started. Besides all the reporters, there have been a number of people who worship serial killers popping up. All of them turning my old house into a shrine."
"Yeah, it could be. Someone trying to give themselves a thrill, to see if they can shake up the police."
"Looks like it's working," Sarah said with a smile.
"Nothing shakes me up, I'm a calm and collected person."
"Too calm and collected, I think sometimes you should shake things up."
"I'll think about it."
"Again, calm and collected. Well, I should get back to writing, thank you for the food." She stood and kissed him just as Virgil came back in the building.
"Hey Sarah," he said with a grin.
"Hey Virgil," she replied, "I was just leaving, don't wake Dave up, he's being calm and collected."
Virgil gave her a puzzled look, as she laughed and went out with Van Gogh.
"She can be a bit odd sometimes," Virgil said, then went to his desk and sat.
"Odd more times than not, but don't say that to her. How much was the fill-up on the new cruiser?"
Virgil handed Dave the receipt from the gas station and Dave gave a small yelp as he looked at the price. "Damn thing takes a lot doesn't it?"
"And the price of gas is way too high. Although I like this car better than that other antique we have."
"This one is the new police interceptor model, the other car was just one off the used car lot and painted to look like a cop car. We're lucky to get it to go over 60. Now, if I can talk the town council into buying us another one to replace the old one, it would be nice."
"I'll talk to Uncle Tim and see what he says."
Dave made no comment about his new deputy having relatives on the council, he just hoped it would get them what they needed.
Dave reached for the phone after hunting up the number of his friend in the FBI. He waited for an answer as he watched Virgil trying to make coffee on the antique Mr. Coffee machine that Dave had picked up at a yard sale. Dave thought it would be nice to update all their equipment. A talk with Uncle Tim might help.
"Hello, Special Agent Warren Stevens here, may I help you?"
"Warren, it's Dave Chandler. Got a minute?"
"Yo Dave, how the hell are you? I heard you took down some serial killers, pretty impressive."
"Just trying to get my name in the papers. I need a favor."
"Anything for the hero of the month; ask me."
"I got a call this morning from some guy claiming to be an FBI agent, he gave me a warning about trouble coming my way. I checked with the Seattle office and was told he doesn't exist. I have a name and the phone number he gave me, can you check it?"
"Pretending to be a FBI agent is a federal offense. Give me what you got and I'll see what I can find."
"The number he gave went to voicemail and nothing else. Got a pencil?"
"Shoot." Dave gave him the name and number and then his friend said, "I'll see what we can find and get back to you. Do you think it's someone yanking your chain or something worse. A warning from some psycho? Your high profile case was big news, lots of nuts can be attracted to it."
"Are you a behavioral profiler now?" Dave laughed.
"I'm trying to get my degree in Psych to maybe move up. It's better than getting shot at by some psycho."
"Well, do your profile on this guy and let me know."
"I hear you're shacking up with the woman who the killer went after."
"Nothing slips your attention, does it? Yes, we are living together for now. She's quite a woman, better than the bitch I was living with. She's in Seattle now, ever run into her?"
"Which one, Farrah or Linda? I've lost track of your conquests."
"Farrah, she moved there about four months ago."
"I'll watch out for her, as I remember she was hot."
"Yes, and she'll burn you good. I'm still scarred from the fire. Find out what you can on the call and get back with me."
"Will do, buddy. Talk later." He hung up and Dave stood. He went to get some of the coffee, now that the machine had finally finished spitting out the murky brew.
"Coffee is lousy, drink at your own risk," Virgil said.
Dave took a sip and made a face. "I'm going to the restroom to pour this down the drain. Then I'm going to go out and get some real coffee. Hold down the fort."
"Cream and two sugars," Virgil yelled to Dave as he was leaving.
~~*~~
Sarah was back at her computer staring at the screen. Van Gogh was watching her from the floor where he had plopped down, then snorted.
"Don't snort at me, I'm trying to remember the incidents that happened. I'd be glad for your help in writing this, if you think you can do better."
Her desk phone rang causing her to jump, she composed herself and answered, "Hello?"
"Sarah, this is your editor, where are your chapters?"
"Connie! I'm working on them right now, so don't you start bugging me too," she replied with a laugh.
"Too? Who else is bugging, Dave?"
"No, Van Gogh is giving me the eye as I sit here."
"The dog is giving you the stink eye? Well, it's good someone is. How's life in the woods?"
"Boring, but I can look to the cemetery across the road for comfort."
"Why did you guys move there anyways?"
"I was in a rush to get out of the house of crime, and this place wasn't bad, other than the cemetery. I think Dave and I may look more, this place needs too much work done to it."
"You two could move to New York and leave all the "Green Acres" life behind," Connie laughed.
"Actually I'm enjoying life here, but it could change. Although Dave is a fixture here, he likes being Sheriff. So I don't see any long distance moves in our immediate future."
"Whenever, just send me something good to read. Hal is driving me nuts with all the submission that are coming in."
"Well, don't sign your name to any of the rejects. You don't need a killer coming for you, too," Sarah warned.
"I won't, take care and we'll talk later when I'm out of the office." She hung up and Sarah put the phone down. She jumped when she saw Van Gogh standing next to her.
"I suppose you want to go out? I need to put a doggy door in the back, then you can go out whenever you please. But if I did, you'd probably bring in all your little animal friends."
She got up and went to the back door, opened it and let the dog out. She turned to the kitchen and poured out the dry dog food, just to get ahead of Van Gogh. She went back to the computer as a thought came into her head and wanted to put it in the story before she forgot it. She worked on it for a while longer, let Van Gogh in and then went to check her e-mail.
Thankfully nothing from disgruntled writers. She stopped doing all editing for others after she found out the reason for Harcourt's attack. She didn't like editing her own chapters, so she asked Connie to help. It allowed her to concentrate on the story and not the grammar. She worked for a little longer, then went to take a nap. Van Gogh followed her to the bedroom and she let him come up with her on the bed.
~~*~~
Across the road, in the cemetery, a hole was being dug. It would be filled later with the remains of another citizen of Jefferson County, where the town was situated. The two men, who were busy digging in the dirt, were talking about the latest sports scores. They were not paying attention to a figure standing away from them behind a tall tombstone, watching. He waited until they were finished. The two grave diggers left and the man went to the fresh hole and looked down. He smiled, looked around for anyone in the cemetery, then went to his car parked nearby. He opened the trunk and carefully pulled out a large plastic bag and took it to the hole. He dumped the bag into the hole and picked up one of the shovels and proceeded to cover the bag. He figured that the hole was deep enough so people wouldn't realize it wasn't as deep as before. He made sure that the bag was covered, then went back to his car, and drove off.
*
Chapter 4 *
It was a very large library, the shelves went up twenty feet easily, ladders standing by, to reach the top heights. She walked between the stacks and marveled at all the books, then she heard a noise. It was a thudding sound, like a foot dropping hard on a wood floor. She turned to look back and then the lights went out. The only light now was the moon shining through the skylights above. She heard the thud again and it frightened her. She tried to find the exit, but was going round and round in the aisles of books, all shaking on the shelves. The noise they made gave her a fright, she ran faster to get away from the now twitching books. They slid in and out around her and she ducked to avoid being hit in the head, as they started flying out at her.
She came out of the stacks and found herself standing by the long desks of the library. It was still dark but she could see three figures coming slowly towards her. She couldn't make out who they were, but they wanted her for her blood. She knew this, some how. They came towards her, closer, as she looked for an opening to escape, but saw none. Suddenly a door opened to her right, light blazing in. She could see the three figures clearly now, they had the flesh falling off their faces and their skulls showed through. She ran for the door where she saw a man in a police uniform standing in the opening.
She felt safe, but when she reached him, he too was grotesque, flesh melting off his face. She screamed, loudly.
"Okay, that's it. Wake up Sarah." Dave called gently to her as he held on to her tightly. She looked up to him, still in his sheriff's uniform. She glanced to the clock by the bed and it said almost three o'clock, light shining through the window, it was still afternoon.
"I just got home, and was in the kitchen when I heard you scream. You were taking a nap, and you had a bad dream again," he said, "Now, will you go see the doctor?"
She wiped the tears from her cheeks and quietly said, "Yes."
Dave had changed into his civilian clothing as Sarah sat at her desk. She sat staring at the screen of her computer, not moving. Dave came into the room and went to her.
"Maybe re-living the murders through your book is bringing on the dreams?" he said.
"I haven't written about that part of it, I'm on the crimes Harcourt committed on his way across the country."
"Well, it's still bringing back the bad thoughts. Maybe you could put the book aside for a while until you talk to Dr. Gladwin," he said.
She didn't reply, she just watched the computer screen saver moving around. Then she said, "Maybe you're right. I'll think on it."
"I'm sure you'll do what you feel is right. Now let's get out of here and go get a nice dinner somewhere."
"Not the Halfway House, please. Can we have a good sit down dinner complete with waiters and busboys?"
"You got it, there's the Blue Goose restaurant down the 101, how's that sound?"
"Never been in there, I guess it sounds good."
They gathered themselves together and left Van Gogh in the house. The restaurant was nice and they had a great meal with good service. They went back home and it was now about nine, Dave was tired and had to work the next morning so he went off to bed. Sarah said she couldn't sleep right now, so she went to her computer and worked on her book a while. She didn't know exactly when she fell asleep in her chair, but she had no bad dreams.
Her head suddenly snapped up when she heard the loud crash. Lightning flashed through the front window, startling her. She looked to her desk clock, it was two-nineteen. Then the rains came. She stood and went to the window, watching the storm brewing outside in the dark.
She didn't mind storms, just not being out in one. Every time the lightning flashed she could see the cemetery across the road, her skin crawled. She thought about being underground in a coffin, while rain seeped all around you. She knew she wouldn't be alive, but she just hated the thought of drowning in a coffin. That actually made her smile, she was being silly.
She went into the bedroom, followed by a droopy looking Van Gogh. She undressed and crawled under the covers. Thunder struck again, she could see the lightning through the bedroom window. She snuggled up to Dave, he put his arm around her and said sleepily, "I'll protect you from the storm."
She giggled and kissed him, turning on her side to sleep again. Hopefully with no bad dreams.
Six o'clock rolled around and Dave was up getting ready for the day. Sarah stretched out in the space vacated by Dave.
"Don't get too comfortable there. I'm going to call Dr. Gladwin and set up an appointment for you. When is a good day?"
"How about next month?" she said with a grin.
"Next week, either Monday or Tuesday. That will give you three days to see if you have anymore bad dreams." Dave went to the bedroom window and looked out. "Rain stopped about two hours ago, but it sure soaked everything. Don't goof around now, I'll see you later."
He went out the bedroom door and she could hear him go out the back door. Then he started up his Bronco and drove out. She sat up in bed as Van Gogh jumped up and plopped down at her feet.
"Shall we get some work done today. We need groceries, so get up and out of the bed." Van Gogh stood and jumped down, looking back to her by the door. "Give me a minute, please. I don't move as fast as you. And I have to put on clothes, you're so lucky to be able wear the same outfit all the time." She did her ritual of getting ready and then went to the kitchen grabbing pencil and paper.
She checked her supplies and wrote down what she would need. She let Van Gogh do a quick potty run then took him to the Vibe and drove out the long drive. She went to the Brinnon General Store, it was a small store with gas pumps in front, but it had the necessary items she needed. She missed the big box stores, like WalMart and KMart. Once every two weeks, she and Dave would run down to Olympia and stock up on important things, like toilet paper in jumbo bags.
Van Gogh was watching patiently in the car as Sarah brought out the two bags of groceries they would need to get them through the week. She stood looking at the road as a funeral procession passed, heading to her favorite cemetery. Now she would get stuck behind them as they inched along the highway.
She decided to go visit Dave first, giving time for the procession to reach their destination. She put the groceries in the back of the small car and climbed in. She arrived at the Sheriff's office and saw both patrol cars were gone. She put Van Gogh on his short leash and went in.
"Hi Mike, how's the leg?" she asked the young deputy, who broke his leg back when the killers were in town.
"I'm good, Sarah. Hey Van Gogh, are you being a good dog?" he asked with a laugh.
Van Gogh wagged his tail and yipped.
"Where's Dave?" Sarah asked.
"Oh, uh… he and Virgil are out at the cemetery. They got a call about a hour ago, that they found a body."
"Mike, there are lots of bodies in the cemetery," she said.
"Yes, but this one wasn't supposed to be there. It was put in a hole dug for a funeral this morning. The rain storm last night put enough water in the hole to flood it, it wasn't covered up properly, and the cemetery people had to pump the water out. Something got clogged in the pipe they used to pump the water out, and they pulled it up finding a big piece of plastic bag. One of the workers went down in the hole and found the remains of someone, who was not supposed to be there. They called us and Dave went out with Virgil."
"Well, that's comforting to know, are they stacking up bodies now? Saving space?" she was joking but the deputy wasn't laughing. "Sorry."
"That's okay, we don't get much excitement around here, well, except your excitement. Now we have a body dumped and that's not normal."
"I'm sure it isn't." She got a chill now thinking about a body turning up. She may as well be living back in New York. "Thanks Mike, tell Dave I stopped by."
"I'll do that, take care. So long Van Gogh, be a good dog." Van Gogh yipped again and followed Sarah out.
She sat in her car after she put Van Gogh in. "I'm not liking this, puppy," she said to the dog. "Too soon after my crimes. This doesn't work well for me." She started the car and drove out. She went to the cemetery and drove through the rusty, tall, open entrance gates with a metal sign saying, "Jefferson County Cemetery".
She felt the chill again, but drove through. She saw the funeral procession waiting by the open grave as Dave, Virgil and three cemetery workers were busy handling what was left of the plastic bag and the remains of the body. They had called in the county coroner and his black van sat next to the hearse, making it twice as creepy. The ME put the body on a gurney and shoved it in the van.
Dave was standing, looking around when he saw Sarah. He came over as she rolled down the window. "How did you know I was here?"
"Mike told me, I stopped to see you. He told me what they found, who was the body?"
He paused, thinking about whether or not to tell her, then said, "We don't know yet, all we found was a torso and legs. The head and arms are missing."
