Hatchet Hollow

by Amanda McKinney

  She sighed, lifted the camera again.

  But really, what else did she have to do? There certainly was no date she had to primp for, or man waiting for her at home—his sexy, muscular body holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand, and a glass of champagne in the other. No, the only thing waiting for her at home was a frozen quinoa… something in the freezer, a half-drunk bottle of wine, and a mountain of laundry that gave her anxiety just thinking about it.

  Okay, so she had the wine going for her, at least.

  She reached back and unzipped the front pocket of her bag, and yanked out a small plastic baggie of almonds—twelve to be exact. A perfectly healthy snack. She popped a few in her mouth, then carefully placed the baggie back into the designated “snack” pocket, which was in-between her fingerprint kit and recorder pen. It was a bag that she always kept with her, as did every member of the Black Rose Investigations team—their spy-kit as they jokingly called it. Each bag had everything necessary for researching cases and examining crime scenes. Flashlights, magnifying glasses, latex gloves and booties, recorder pens and notebooks. And in the front pocket was the gun that every woman of Black Rose carried with them—a Glock 19 with a hot-pink handle and the letters BRI engraved down the side. And true to form, Raven’s bag was impeccably organized, labeled, color-coordinated, and spotless.

  Just like her life.

  Raven Cane was known for three things—her obsessive attention to detail, her tireless commitment to the job, and, above all else, her incessant need for organization. Raven ran on schedules, plans, and to-do lists, and wouldn’t have it any other way. She was always prepared for absolutely anything that might come her way.

  Neurotic? Maybe. A bit high-strung? Sure. But she’d convinced herself that her neurosis would make her one hell of a private investigator someday.

  Someday.

  Her gaze shifted to the Red Rock hiking trail below, and she released a low groan. She’d made a promise to herself that she’d go for a jog after her surveillance, even though she’d already completed ninety minutes of hot yoga earlier in the day—right after cleaning her house top to bottom, as she did every Sunday.

  Her attention was drawn to a shiny red sports car bouncing down the dirt road in the distance. A spurt of energy shot through her system—the Coleman brothers, perhaps?

  Oh, please, please, please be the Coleman brothers.

  Her pulse picked up as she grabbed her camera, and then shimmied forward on her elbows for a better look.

  She zoomed in as the car rolled to a stop next to Eric’s truck. The driver’s side door opened, and she raised her eyebrows as a tall, busty blonde slid out, wearing a low-cut sweater, skin-tight pants, and bejeweled cowboy boots. Even at her distance she could see the woman’s cleavage. Impressive.

  But definitely not the Coleman brothers.

  Click, click.

  She scanned over to Eric, who smiled and jumped off the tailgate. The woman met him at the bed of the truck, and after a short exchange, Eric unveiled a bouquet of roses that was hidden behind his back.

  Raven wrinkled her nose. Lucky bitch.

  The woman leapt into his arms and began kissing him wildly.

  Eric spun the woman around, and heaved her onto the tailgate, pushing himself in-between her legs.

  Raven’s eyes widened. Um, this definitely was not insider trading. Well, of the financial kind, anyway.

  The mid-day rendezvous continued as Eric pulled the woman’s sweater over her head revealing her bare skin.

  Raven felt the heat rising to her cheeks as the sweater was tossed to the ground. She cocked an eyebrow—wow, no bra, now she was really impressed. She always wanted to be the type of woman who was confident enough to go without a bra. Woman power! Right? Wrong. Thanks to her barely B-cups, Raven not only opted for a bra every day, she wore one that had about an inch of padding. It wasn’t like anyone had been trying to grab them—and discover her secret—lately, anyway.

  She watched Eric kiss the lucky woman’s breasts, spending ample time on each nipple.

  It had been so long since she’d had a man spend ample time on any part of her body.

  She cleared her throat, shook her head. Dammit, get a hold of yourself, Raven. She was here for work, for Christ’s sake. And her job was to take pictures of whoever Eric was meeting in the woods, and by God, she was going to do just that.

  She squared her shoulders, ignoring the sweat that was starting to bead under her shirt, and reminded herself that she was a professional, and not a pervert. Even though it had been more than a year since she’d had sex. Okay, two.

  She zoomed in just as Eric slowly slid down the woman’s pants… and then her leopard-print panties.

  Her eyes bugged. Her heart began to race.

  Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God.

  The woman spread her legs and—

  She dropped the camera.

  Okey-dokey, time to pack up.

  She bit her lip, and as she started to push herself up from the ground, she inconspicuously glanced out of the corner of her eye, trying to make out the blurry interaction between Eric and the woman, in the distance. It was like a car accident—she couldn’t look away.

  Maybe just one more look—to make sure the Coleman brothers hadn’t pulled up. Yeah, one more look.

  She held up the camera again.

  Her mouth gaped as she saw Eric’s head slowly slide from side-to-side between the woman’s legs, with her hands firmly on the top of his head.

  Oh. My. God.

  And then, as if her finger had a mind of its own—click, click, click.

  The woman gripped the side of the truck and arched her back like a sexy feline. Eric’s fingers joined his mouth between her legs and then…

  She yanked down the camera.

  What the hell are you doing? You sick, sick woman! Delete those pictures!

  Seconds after she deleted the evidence of her embarrassing perversion, a scream vibrated through the air. She jerked up the camera again, only to see the woman laid out on the tailgate, with a satisfied smile on her face.

  She sighed and shook her head. She needed a freaking boyfriend. Immediately. That, or she needed to take a quick trip to the adult store downtown on her way home.

  She shook her head again. Dammit, Raven, you’re a professional! And with that scolding, she packed up, and began making her way down the mountain. Well, sulking down the mountain was more like it.

  She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and clicked it on.

  “Dixie here.” Even though it was seven-thirty Sunday evening, Raven’s boss was in the office, working on one of the million cases she had going.

  “Hey, it’s Raven.”

  “Did you get it? The pictures?”

  She cleared her throat. “Uh, yeah I got some pictures…”

  “Of Eric meeting the Coleman brothers? Did you get a picture of them exchanging money, like, a shot of the actual money? Because that’s what we need.”

  “Well… Eric was definitely trading something, that’s for sure. He met a blonde, and uh, let’s just say she’s leaving a very satisfied customer, but not from learning which stocks are about to hit.”

  “Soooo no meeting with the brothers?”

  “No.”

  Pause. “So… he just banged some chick in the woods? That’s it?”

  “Appears that way.”

  Another pause. “I’m not going to ask how long you watched them, Rave. You sick, sick, woman.”

  “I didn’t see the finale, and let’s just leave it at that.”

  A chuckle sounded from the other end of the phone. “Okay, so do we know the lucky woman?”

  “Nope, but I’ll give the camera to Ace, and have him run a facial recognition scan.”

  “Sounds good. Let’s get that done ASAP. And Rave? You really need to get a boyfriend.”

  She rolled her eyes. “See you tomorrow, boss.”

  “See ya.”

  Click.

  CHAPT
ER 3

  AFTER A SHORT hike down the mountain, Raven unlocked her car and glanced up at the darkening sky. A gust of wind swept past her. More thick clouds had moved in, absorbing the last of the day’s sun, leaving a dim grey light that would soon fade into night. She estimated she had about an hour before it turned completely dark—just enough time to fulfill her promise to herself for a quick jog on the trail.

  She opened the car door, and carefully placed her camera into its case, taking the time to roll the neck strap into a perfect, tight circle. She set her bag on the passenger seat just as the red sports car came flying down the dirt road. The busty, blonde woman zoomed by, with a smile plastered on her face.

  Raven rolled her eyes—lucky, lucky bitch.

  She pulled off her leather jacket, and folded it into a square on the backseat. She took a quick sip of water, grabbed her pocket knife from the console, and slid her keys and cell phone into her pocket.

  She stretched her arms over her head and looked around. Other than a vacant dark blue pickup truck and red sedan, she was the only person in the gravel parking lot, which wasn’t surprising considering the impending rain.

  She stretched her neck from side-to-side.

  Okay, it’s go-time.

  She stepped onto the trail and took off in a light jog. While most people exercised with headphones in, listening to their favorite mix of let’s get pumped up music, Raven preferred to listen to the sounds of nature around her. That, and she knew how important it was to always be aware of your surroundings, no matter what. Blame the job.

  A mile in, her legs began to loosen, her head began to clear, and the endorphins began to kick in, giving her a much-needed runner’s high. The smell of rain became stronger as the woods began to darken.

  Up ahead, she spied another jogger in a baseball cap and dark sunglasses. She nodded as they passed. He was tall, built, and cute, and she fought the urge to turn around to check out his backside.

  Damn, it had been a long time since she’d had her hands on someone’s backside.

  Officially sexually frustrated, she pushed into a sprint, inhaling and exhaling the fresh, mountain air. Tingles broke out over her skin as she seemed to fly across the trail. Her thoughts faded from work, and all the cases she had going on, to the laundry waiting for her at home, and then back to the hot jogger she’d just passed.

  Okay, maybe everyone was right, she needed a damn boyfriend.

  Her heart thrummed as she rounded a corner, and all of a sudden a chill ran up her spine. Her senses piqued.

  She slowed, noticing a flock of buzzards flying in circles above the trees.

  Buzzards.

  She looked into the dense woods, focusing on a large rock formation in the distance, where the birds aggressively swooped down, then back up.

  Hatchet Hollow.

  Hatchet Hollow was a small cave located just a few yards from Red Rock Trail. With an entrance barely wide enough to fit through, the cave was widely avoided, thanks to the haunted rumors that surrounded it.

  She’d never set foot in it.

  She stopped and gazed into the woods.

  Probably just a dead squirrel or something. But that’s a lot of buzzards.

  She glanced up and down the trail, contemplating.

  And then, as if being pulled like a magnet, she stepped off the trail and into the woods.

  The breeze halted. The birds seemed to stop singing as she walked through the thick brush.

  She glanced over her shoulder and then pulled out her pocket knife—better safe than sorry. With her eyes locked on the rock in the distance, she flicked up the blade, nicking her finger in the process. Pain zinged through her hand, and she kicked herself for being distracted. She wiped the blood on her pants and finally stepped onto the large rock.

  The hair on the back of her neck stood up.

  A million flies buzzed overhead, zipping in and out of the narrow opening of the cave, which was almost completely hidden by deep crevasses.

  She took another glance over her shoulder, then carefully stepped down the slick, moss-covered rocks. She gripped her knife as she neared the cave entrance—it was pitch-black inside.

  She pulled out her cell phone and clicked on the flashlight app, noticing her hand was unsteady.

  As she stood staring into the cave, she thought of all the horror movies she’d seen where the damsel in distress always made the dumbest decisions, most notably, going into a dark house, alone, investigating an ominous noise or something.

  She wrinkled her nose—don’t be stupid, Raven.

  She should go back.

  She started to turn, but then turned back, and decided to follow her gut that was screaming at her to go into the cave.

  With her knife in one hand, and phone in the other, she stepped inside. The smell hit her like a punch in the face.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered as she squeezed her face and covered her nose with the back of her hand.

  Her heart started to pound, her legs trembled as she forced herself forward, shining the light on the walls.

  An eerie silence filled the cave, with only the drip, drip, drip from the stalactites echoing through the air.

  She took another step and slipped on a slick rock. As she stumbled to catch herself, the knife and cell phone flew from her hands and tumbled to the ground, illuminating the corner of the cave.

  She gasped.

  Just beyond a dip in the cave floor, lay a body of a young woman, pale and motionless.

  Raven crossed the cave in two swift steps and gaped down at the body. Her breath stopped, her heart skipped a beat.

  The woman’s bloodshot eyes grotesquely protruded from her skull, staring blankly at the dark cave ceiling. A thin trickle of dried blood ran from the corner of her blue lips, down her neck. And as Raven’s gaze moved down the body, her stomach sank to her feet. The woman’s fingers had been cut off—every single one of them.

  “Oh, my God.”

  Bile rose in her throat as she looked at the bloody nubs at the end of the woman’s hands.

  Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God.

  Her stomach churned, and for a moment, she thought she was going to vomit.

  No, don’t throw up on a crime scene, you’ll destroy potential evidence, you idiot!

  She inhaled, swallowed the saliva that had gathered in her mouth, and forced herself to get a grip—get in control of the situation. Her shock slowly began to fade, and the cool-headed, calm, laser-focused demeanor that she was known for began to settle in.

  She squatted down for a closer look.

  The woman’s skin was pale, almost ghostly white. Her muscles were frozen in full rigor mortis. She assumed she'd been deceased for twenty-four hours, tops. Purple bruising speckled her jawline, and ran across her skinny neck.

  Oh, no.

  Raven shook her head, stood, and grabbed her cell phone from the ground.

  She clicked it on—no reception in the cave, of course.

  She spun on her heel, jogged outside and dialed 911.

  As she gave the dispatcher the details and her location, her eyes scanned the ground for any obvious evidence but saw none. The dispatcher promised someone was on their way, and she clicked off the phone.

  She glanced up at the sky, completely blanketed now by storm clouds. Nightfall was coming. The woods would be completely dark in less than thirty minutes.

  A cool breeze rustled the leaves above. A buzzard called out. She looked around—acutely aware of the fact that she was completely alone. Just her and a dead body. Alone, in the middle of woods that stretched as far as she could see—so many places to run, to hide.

  Who had done this?

  CHAPTER 4

  VOICES ECHOING IN the distance had Raven turning on her heel. A flashlight bounced off the trees. The light was running out, quickly.

  She blew out a breath of relief as she saw an officer stepping through the brush.

  “Miss Cane?”

  “Hey, Deena. And good
Lord, call me Raven.”

  Officer Deena Malone, the newest member of the police force, had spent her career working security for the state capitol building before moving to Devil's Den. In her mid-forties with bleach-blonde hair, Deena was a beer-drinking, gun-toting Southern cowgirl who spent her spare time running a security equipment side-business out of her garage. She was the most masculine woman Raven had ever met, with the attitude to match.

  “You’re lucky I didn’t call you something else—I’d just curled up with a Bloody Mary and a new horror book.”

  “And you wonder why you’re still single.”

  Deena grinned. “Ain’t that callin’ the kettle black.” She looked past her. “In the cave?”

  Raven nodded.

  “Let me go take a look. I’ll be right back.”

  As Deena stepped off the rock, she heard someone else behind her. She turned, and instantly, her stomach dropped. Dressed in jeans, black T-shirt, and a worn leather jacket, the impossibly handsome Lieutenant Zander Stone stepped briskly through the brush—the impossibly handsome Lieutenant that she’d had a crush on since the first time she laid eyes on him when she moved to town, two years ago.

  A cell phone was pressed to his ear, and his deep voice carried through the wind, strong, with authority. His massive, six-foot-two muscular body blended in with the surrounding trees. Shadows covered his face, and for a moment, he looked almost terrifying, moving through the dark shadows.