“No, not on purpose. If I did, she was already dead.”
“You don’t remember if you shot her, Ethan? Do you expect the police to believe that?”
“I don’t give a shit what they believe, or you, either. I did not kill her or the others. Go to the house; see that I am telling you the truth!”
The doctor lifted the clipboard from the table, accounted for his pen, and left the room without another word. He closed the door and latched it, and headed back to the nurse’s station. Gretchen was there talking with a younger cop, one with youth in his hair and build, but age in his eyes.
“So what did he say, Doc?” the cop asked.
Gretchen turned back to her monitors and paperwork.
“He’s having trouble remembering; most likely a psychotic episode brought on by something. Did you find the others yet?”
“No. The detectives in charge are heading up the mountain now. Do you think he could have killed the others as well?”
“Most likely. It’s pretty clear he killed the girl, right?”
“Yeah, looks like it. She has one bullet wound in her wrist; the coroner will tell us more when he has completed the autopsy. The animals really made a mess of her.”
“I’m going to start him on a medicinal regiment; maybe we can clear his memory up in a few days. I am sure, though, he will be with us for a while…” the doctor trailed off.
Chapter 17
“There it is, finally. I have not hiked like this since I was a kid. I’m going to be hurting in the morning,” the older detective said.
“Ah, come on, old man, we can rest when we get there,” the younger and somewhat attractive Shelly teased. She was in her late twenties and made detective not only early, but also as the only woman on the force.
“When you going to find a husband and badger him instead of me?”
“Actually I was thinking of you, Glenn,” Shelly laughed.
”I retire in six years, four months, and two days, and I already have a boil like you to take to my grave,” he shot back.
“The house looks almost new, doesn’t it?” Shelly asked with a voice softened by amazement.
Glenn looked up towards the house, “Yeah, it does. You don’t reckon that ol’ Brighton is coming up here and keeping it up do you?”
“Hell, he’s got ten years on you at least, and just look at you, huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf.”
“Ah, leave me alone,” he grumbled, long weary of the teasing about being older than her. He loved the girl like a daughter, but his joints reminded him of his age and he did not need her to remind him.
They came to the door and stopped in unison as Shelly pulled out a dust kit and began to cover the knob with the gray powder, her eyes knitted in concentration, the brush twisting between her fingers. She had just recently completed a crime scene refresher course by the state, and seeing as how crimes like this were rare in Black Water, they had both decided she would do most of the work.
Glenn waited patiently, taking in the beautiful house. It was large and welcoming, brilliant white in the afternoon sun. He recognized the place as his wife’s dream retirement house, like the one she had described to him for years now. The image of him and his wife, shuffling about under gray hair was easy to imagine. It would need a bit of landscaping, but for all that, it was a charming house.
“Okay, nothing here. Odd, perhaps they wore gloves when they came up,” Shelly reasoned, her voice betraying her belief in that.
“Let’s go in,” Glenn said as he reached for the dusty knob. The door swung open slowly, all by itself, and Glenn jumped back suddenly.
In the doorway stood the most sensuous young woman, her hair was dark and flowing, her eyes wide, large, and deep brown. She had the figure of a Greek statue with a tiny mole above her lip. She was shocking, wrapped tightly in an expensive party dress, which barely containing her ample figure, as though she where about to receive dinner guests. Glenn felt his heart do a slow roll in his chest, then pound hungrily. He would have given a finger to have this girl, right here, right now.
“Hello, and welcome to the Heart House,” she said pleasantly, her perfect teeth showing behind her full red lips, her voice husky and thick with sexuality.
Shelly felt her stomach tighten a moment, suddenly taken with the stark attractiveness of the girl. She was so perfect, so alluringly petite. She had never actually felt any desire for another woman, but somehow this girl drew from her a deep and instinctive response. “Uh, hi,” she rushed out, clearly ashamed of herself. “I am Detective Greenbrae and this is Detective Craig. We are here to investigate three missing college students.”
Glenn stood silently, grinning at the girl like a smitten teenager.
“Well, perhaps you should come in then. You will want to see the basement first, I’m guessing?” the girl replied as she turned and started toward the central passage. “That’s the last place I saw any of them…”
“Excuse me, miss, but aren’t you Madison Graves?” Shelly asked, still blocking the door of the house. Her instincts told her that there was something wrong—wrong in a sickening way—and she had learned long ago to heed these vague motivational sensations.
The girl stopped short, her long dress rushing past her before settling at her feet. “I used to be, yes, but not any longer,” she said lightly, keeping her back to them as if ashamed of her answer.
Glenn found himself transfixed with the perfect curves of her youthful bottom. He cleared his throat. His voice sounded dry and almost frightened, and he hoped Shelly had not realized how turned on he was.
Thankfully to him, Shelly spoke before he could. “You are one of the people we are looking for, Ms. Graves. Can you come out here and talk with us?”
“I have guests waiting, Ms.…”
“It’s Greenbrae. Who is here with you? Is Chris Porter here?” Shelly remained the stony professional, but there was something strained in her voice, something almost wistful or reminiscent.
Madison turned slowly, a sly sexy grin playing at her lips. “Why yes, and some gentlemen from Virginia and the Carolinas. Won’t you join us, detective?” she asked as she locked eyes with Glenn.
“Sure, Ms. Graves,” he said as he pushed his way past Shelly. He did not understand why but he knew he could no longer resist this young girl’s suggestions. He would give anything to spend any short moment in her company, even after the sixteen years of marriage.
“Glenn!” Shelly hissed low. “Wait…”
“You can stay here, Shelly, but I’m going in.”
Madison offered her arm to the aging cop, “This way, Detective.”
“Why thank you, Ms. Graves,” he said politely as he took her arm.
Shelly looked about quickly but could find no reason not to follow them. She released her sidearm from its holster, and followed a distance behind. Something was not right, she did not know what, but there was wrongness in the air, so thick she could almost taste it. She had not drawn her sidearm since making detective, but her instincts were no longer being vague.
Madison turned into a side room just past the stairway, and Glenn came to a sudden stop. He gasped a deep breath and froze like a threatened animal. Before him was an elegant dining hall, filled with a large, dark, wood table. Around the table stood a number of naked men, all in very levels of decay, feasting on the raw corpse of a white male.
“Detective,” Madison said sweetly, “won’t you join us? There is enough room for everyone.”
The next few moments happened in an instant for Shelly. She had thought that being a law officer, even in a small town, would have prepared her for such things, but she was wrong. Her first reaction was to scream Glenn’s name; however, he began grabbing and pulling at his sidearm, his face the ashy gray color of death.
Shelly, following her training, immediately shifted to a tactical response, leading with her weapon drawn. But before she got halfway to Glenn, something launched from the room and skewered him to the wall. As he fell limp,
