Visions of Death

by B. T. Lord

  “Did you ever ask her out for a date?”

  Richard didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. Last year.”

  “And?”

  “She turned me down.”

  “You didn’t get upset?”

  He shook his head. “On the contrary. I would have been shocked if she’d said yes.”

  “Because of the rumors about her?”

  “Those were bullshit. She used to joke about it, thinking it was hilarious that people actually believed she was gay.”

  “So why weren’t you surprised when she turned you down?”

  “Mal ran hot and cold. Sometimes she could be a lot of fun. Other times she acted as if she wouldn’t touch us with a ten- foot pole, like she was Queen Mallory and we were the riff-raff. That’s just who she was.”

  “I heard she was interested in a mainlander who visited during the summer.”

  He shrugged. “Sorry, Deputy, but I didn’t follow Mallory’s social life.”

  “When she died, she was nearly three months pregnant.”

  Unlike John, who’d been shocked by the news, Richard didn’t react. He simply sat there, calmly meeting Ellis’s gaze.

  “Well, I guess that disproves the rumor of her being gay then, doesn’t it?” Before Ellis could ask another question, Richard leaned forward in his chair. “Is it true what they say? About her mouth and eyes being sewn shut?”

  It had taken over twenty-four hours, but the information had finally gotten out. Ellis remained silent, but Richard could see the gossip was correct. He sat back and rubbed his chin with his hand.

  “Man, that is sick.”

  “Do you have any idea who would do such a thing to Mallory? Or why?”

  Richard shook his head. “She had her faults. We all do. But to do that to her face?” He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. “I wish I had an answer for you, I really do. I don’t like the idea of someone like that living on Eagla.”

  “Any reason you might think of that would make the killer strike again?”

  “That’s your job, isn’t it? To figure it out and keep us safe from people like that.”

  The challenge hung in the air between them. Ellis opted to ignore it.

  “What time did you leave the bonfire?”

  “I think it was around 11:15. John drove me home because my truck’s in the shop.”

  “What did you do when you got home?”

  “I watched some TV, then went to bed.”

  “What did you watch?”

  Richard lifted an eyebrow. “The news.”

  “You don’t strike me as someone who cares about world events.”

  Richard gave a lazy shrug. “I like to keep current. You never know how it’s going to affect the fishing industry.”

  “Is there anyone who can vouch for you?”

  “My dad got up to get a drink of water. He was half asleep, but he should remember seeing me lying on the couch.”

  Ellis knew Richard wasn’t telling the entire truth, but no matter how hard he tried, like John, Richard had nothing more to say.

  When he emerged from the backroom, he saw the sleet had turned to snow. He withdrew two business cards and handed one to each of them. “If you think of anything that might help in the investigation, call me immediately.”

  After the men left, he sat down at his desk.

  As with the young people he’d interviewed the day before, his gut told him the two hadn’t been completely forthcoming. At least Richard had been honest enough to admit that he’d asked the murder victim out on a date, but there was more he wasn’t saying.

  Ellis had no choice but to swallow his irritation over the mistrust from the islanders that dogged his steps. What they didn’t realize was that their behavior only fired up his determination to get to the bottom of unraveling what happened to Mallory.

  And of getting them to at least give him a chance.

  Opening his computer, he pulled up the email Chloe had sent him and clicked on the attachments. He sat stunned as message after message reeked of hate and anger. It seemed no one was safe from Mallory’s acid tongue as she mocked everyone who came into her orbit.

  Chloe had done a comprehensive job pulling together numerous examples of the young woman’s viciousness. She railed against her parents for being stupid, she ranted against the store owner of The Elegant Swan for being a cow. To his surprise, he found that DeeDee hadn’t been spared from Mallory’s venom. A few months before her death, she’d sent a scathing message to her supposed best friend.

  You are such a loser, Dee, you know that. I honestly don’t know why I allow you to hang out with me.

  When he was done, he sat back in his chair and stared out at the falling snow. What he’d just read confirmed Rob’s theory, so beautifully articulated the night before. The disfigurement to Mallory’s face had nothing to do with what she may have seen or said. It had to do with who she was.

  The killer had taken the ugliness within and placed it on the outside for all to see.

  No wonder her friends had been so reluctant to discuss her personality with him. Or why Aggie and Frank Reid had acted so strangely when he’d bought it up. If what John said was true, and the islanders believed it was bad luck to speak ill of the dead, he understood why they’d avoided answering his questions. Still, why would the killer go through the trouble of exposing a secret that wasn’t a secret?

  Was the murderer one of her victims? Had she so verbally shredded someone that they’d sought revenge by not only physically removing her from the world, but also physically removing what she’d held so important – her own beauty?

  When his phone rang, he was grateful for the respite from the loathing and disdain Mallory had, not only for the islanders, but it seemed for the whole human race.

  “Deputy Martin,” he answered.

  “Is it true?” DeeDee’s voice shrieked on the other end. “Is it true what they did to Mal’s face?”

  “DeeDee, you need to calm down.”

  “Oh my God! How can I calm down? I’m next, I know I am. You’ve got to protect me, Deputy Martin. You’ve got to keep me from getting murdered!”

  “What makes you think you’re going to be murdered?” She was crying so hard, it was difficult to make out what she was saying. “DeeDee, I can’t understand what you’re saying. You must compose yourself.”

  He heard her taking in gulps of air. In a calmer, yet still unsteady voice, she said, “I overheard a conversation Mallory was having the morning of the bonfire.” She quickly repeated what she’d shared with Tim the day before. “I should have told you, but I didn’t think it was that important. But now, after hearing what that monster did to her, what if he does the same thing to me? What if the killer is Mal’s baby daddy and goes after me because he thinks I know who he is? He’ll never believe she didn’t tell me.”

  Her voice had grown strident again with fear and worry. Until Ellis uncovered the motive for Mallory’s murder, he couldn’t discount DeeDee’s fears.

  “To be on the safe side, I suggest you don’t go out alone.”

  “Oh God, I do have something to worry about!” She wailed.

  “You need to remain calm. It could be nothing, but it would be better if you always go out with someone. And make sure the doors to your house are kept locked at all times.”

  “I – I had a dream last night,” she blurted out. “I dreamed a man was looking in through my bedroom window.”

  “All the more reason to keep everything locked. Have you spoken to your parents?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Do you want me to?”

  “No, I’ll do it. Both my boyfriend and my dad own guns and they know how to use them.”

  “I’ll also speak to Cade McHadon and let him know what’s happening. The more people are aware of what’s going on, the more they will be alert to any suspicious behavior. Are you okay with that?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Now, I have a question for you. If I’m going to ha
ve any chance of catching Mallory’s killer, I’m going to need your full cooperation.”

  “Okay,” she answered hesitantly.

  “How did Mallory treat you? Remember, DeeDee, I need the truth.”

  There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Then, in a small voice, she said, “She was horrible to me. It got worse the last few months of her life.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “I wish I knew. She always had a nasty thing to say about everybody, but suddenly she started throwing shade at me for no reason. I couldn’t understand it. It was terrible.”

  “Why didn’t you just walk away?”

  “I – I don’t know.”

  But she did know. She didn’t walk away because she enjoyed the status of being the best friend to the pretty and elegant Mallory Angleton. She’d sold her soul to the festering, putrid reality that was Mallory in order to bask in the reflection of an illusion.

  No wonder she couldn’t admit it.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

  “I couldn’t. Mom and Dad always told me you’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead. I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you for your honesty, DeeDee. As soon as I hang up, I’ll call Cade.”

  “Thank you, Deputy. I appreciate it.” She paused, then said, “Even if I’d ended our friendship, she wouldn’t have changed, you know. She thought she was perfect. It was everyone else who was screwed up.”

  Ellis stood on the shore of Watson Pond. He scanned the calm water, noting how the reflection of the setting sun danced across the smooth surface.

  There was a path that ran along the edge of the entire pond. Here and there he saw evidence flags left behind by the Forensics Team. Although he had no reason to doubt their competency, he preferred to walk the scene of the crime himself. Get a feel for the area and for what had occurred there.

  Although the path ended up in the same place no matter which direction he took, he opted to go to the left.

  Stepping over exposed tree branches, the path grew dimmer as the sun began its descent. He didn’t have much time to do what he’d come there to do, prompting him to quicken his step. The ground itself was muddy, churned up by the sleet, snow, then rain that had fallen that morning and into the early afternoon. He glanced down and grimaced when he saw the bottom of his pants caked and stained with wet dirt.

  The narrow path dipped up and down, the silence shrouding him like a blanket. If it were summer, the air would be filled with the sounds of peepers and night insects. But in the unsettled cold of March, the only sounds he heard were his own footsteps squelching through the muck, and the occasional breeze that blew through the tops of the tall pine trees that surrounded him.

  The further he got from the beach and parking lot, the more the terrain changed. The hills became steeper, the woods on either side of the path denser. The trail, carved into the side of the incline, began to tilt slightly to the right towards the water, causing him to occasionally use the trunks of the slender white birch trees to keep himself from toppling over. With the exception of the area that had been set aside as a picnic and swimming area over where the parking lot was, it was as though he were standing in the middle of a yet undiscovered forest.

  Just as he reached the halfway point, he stopped to catch his breath. With the natural light growing even dimmer, he noted the hill to his left wasn’t so steep. A gut feeling in the pit of his stomach compelled him to climb up the small incline.

  Reaching the top, he found himself in a grove of oak trees, their bare branches resembling long, sinewy arms. Wondering why he’d felt the need to climb up here, he scanned the surrounding area. All he saw were thick shrubs at the base of the oaks.

  It was almost twilight. Whatever he’d come out there to find wasn’t making itself known. There was no more time to waste. If he had any chance of getting back to the parking lot without killing himself on the darkened path, he needed to leave now.

  Ellis turned to go when he caught something out of the corner of his eye. Swiveling back, he noticed one of the shrubs looked strangely misshapen. Curiosity propelled him towards it. Squatting down, he reached out with his arms and pushed aside the thick branches. Recognizing it was now too dark to see, he took out a small pocket flashlight and shone the beam into the shrub.

  To his surprise, he saw a blue mermaid looking back at him.

  Perplexed, he leaned in further and laughed. The mermaid was painted on a piece of wood. A piece, he suddenly realized with a start, that was part of the helm of a small rowboat.

  It was at that moment that the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

  He was being watched.

  Ellis slowly turned his head around, back towards the crest of the hill he’d just climbed. Although it was almost night, he was startled to find the dark figure of a man looking across the grove of trees towards him. He’d heard nothing – no crushing of leaves and mud underfoot, no sounds of exertion. The man had suddenly appeared as if out of nowhere. The dim light prevented Ellis from seeing any discernible features. Just the dark shadowy outline of someone silently observing him.

  Alarm bells crashed through his conscious mind as small red eyes appeared in the center of where the face should be. They didn’t blink or show any movement. They remained steady, staring at him, into him. Ellis tried to look away, but he couldn’t. He attempted to move, to scramble away, but he was unable to move. His heart pounded loudly in his ears as a feeling of evil arose from the silent figure – an evil so profound, it froze the deputy in place.

  To his horror, he suddenly felt the tendrils of thoughts that were not his own seeping into his brain.

  Shadows kill. And more will die.

  Ellis’s eyes snapped open. He looked around and saw he was in his own bed. He rolled over and looked at the clock display. 5 am glowed back at him.

  He lay staring up at the ceiling, the details of the dream still vivid. He couldn’t dislodge the image of the dark figure standing silently on the edge of the hill. Nor of the malevolence that still lingered about him.

  “It was just a dream,” he mumbled aloud as he got up and made his way to the bathroom, “brought on by Chandra’s stories about the Clemons and their dark magic.”

  After finishing his business, he decided to get ready for the day. He was never going to fall back asleep. Might as well put the extra time to good use.

  He took a shower. With the towel wrapped around his torso, he padded into the bedroom towards the chair where he’d tossed his uniform the night before.

  Ellis let out a sharp curse when his bare foot touched what appeared to be a cold wet spot on the carpet. He jerked back and looked down at the rug, where he was dismayed to see a large muddy stain.

  Puzzled, he bent down and pulled his boots out from beneath the bed. The soles were dripping with muddied snow.

  How was that possible? By the time he’d left Eagla to return home the day before, the sun had come out, melting away the light dusting of snow. He’d walked on concrete sidewalks down to the dock – he hadn’t walked through any snow or mud.

  So why were his boots covered with mud and snow?

  Was he sleepwalking?

  It had never happened before, but he wouldn’t rest until he’d ruled it out. Throwing on jeans, a sweater and a pair of sneakers, and grabbing a flashlight, he let himself out into the cold morning darkness and walked the perimeter of his cottage, looking for any evidence of footprints in the wet ground.

  There was nothing.

  When he came back in, he checked the door mats he kept at both the front and back doors, but it showed no evidence of mud or moisture that would have been tracked in if he’d gone outside for a trance-like midnight stroll.

  He plopped down in a nearby chair and ran his hand over his unshaven chin. None of this made any sense whatsoever. If he’d been sleepwalking, there should have been signs of it. But there was nothing to show he’d left his bed once he’d fallen asleep.

 
Suddenly, he remembered the dream. He’d been wearing those boots, splashing and squelching through the mud and slush as he walked the path around Watson Pond.

  His blood ran cold. Jumping up, he ran into the bedroom where he picked up the trousers he’d worn the day before.

  How in heaven’s name--?

  The hems of both legs were splattered with wet mud.

  He leaned against the bed, unable to fully comprehend what he was seeing. In his mind’s eye, he saw the black figure. And heard again the stark warning.

  Shadows kill. And more will die.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Chandra pulled her coat closer to her chin as she walked across the wide expanse of lawn towards the lone figure standing on the edge of the cliff. Beyond, the diffracted light of the rising sun shining through clouds sparkled over the quiet seas.

  She’d awakened that morning with a strong sense that Ellis needed her. To talk. To unburden himself. To see logic where there may not be any.

  The question was, did he sense the need himself?

  The splashing of her footsteps on the sodden ground caused him to turn around. Seeing his face, she knew her instincts had been correct.

  “You could have picked a warmer day to admire the view,” she joked, hoping humor would diffuse the wall she felt surrounding him.

  “Don’t feel like waiting for June.”

  She stood next to him, and the two looked out over the greyish-blue ocean. A chilly wind blew up, causing her to burrow deeper into her coat while pulling the scarf tighter around her neck and head.

  “I could feel your worry a mile away,” she said quietly. “Just checking to make sure you’re alright.”

  Ellis’s first instinct was to deny anything was wrong. To tell her he was perfectly fine, even though he was standing on a cliff at dawn with the temperature in the low teens.

  Didn’t everybody do that?

  But what was the point? Chandra was much too intuitive. Much too intelligent to fall for any feeble excuses he might come up with. And he was too emotionally and physically troubled to lie.

  “It’s this case you’re on, isn’t it? Something has you baffled.”