The Killing Sands
Page 27
* * * * *
As Luki neared the complex, he saw someone sitting beside the beach access path. And the closer he got, he saw that it was the blond guy and his goddamn dog! Fuck, now what?
Still walking, he nevertheless slowed his pace as he tried to figure out the best thing to do. Maybe he should just act nonchalant, like nothing was amiss. Even go on the offense. And that's just what he’d decided to do when he saw the man rise and head in his direction.
* * * * *
The old binoculars were working well so Lenore Rosenberg saw the furious expression on the weirdo's face as if he were right next to her. Reaching behind a potted plant, she grabbed the air horn she kept there to scare away coons.
* * * * *
“Yo, Mr. Hasan,” Scott called out, tightening his grip on Jinx's leash and commanding her to shush. “You are Luki Hasan, correct?”
Luki sneered and said, “Oh, it's you and your fucking dog again. And why is it any of your business who I am?”
Scott stopped within five feet of Hasan and said, “Sir, my name is Scott McBride and I'm a detective with the Cocoa Beach Police. I need you to come down to the station and answer a few questions regarding some recent unpleasant activities that have occurred since your arrival. So, you can come with me peacefully or, if not, I'm afraid I'll have to place you under arrest as a prime suspect.”
Her nose twitching furiously, Jinx strained at the leash, a menacing growl low in her throat. And Scott knew then the situation was going to get out of control…fast.
Luki Hasan did the first thing that entered his mind. In an abrupt about-face, he ran pell-mell towards the ocean. Scott couldn't believe what the stupid shit was doing but he knew the “game over” was in his pocket.
Removing the blood-scented cloth and tossing it in the air, Scott released Jinx and commanded her to “find it.” Needing no added incentive, Jinx shot off like a bullet after the fleeing man at the very same time that Lenore Rosenberg stood on wobbly legs and blew the air horn…over and over and over.
* * * * *
Hasan zig-zagged in the knee-deep surf, heading back the way he'd come yet fully prepared to dive into the whitecaps and swim parallel to the shore until he reached the pier. But a God-awful sound pierced his ears and he pulled out his switch blade as a huge black-and-silver blur knocked him into the waves.
* * * * *
Stunned at the events unfolding below her, yet trained to act in a heartbeat to life-threatening situations, Erin turned and ran through the penthouse, then down the stairs with a speed born of sheer protectiveness. Her loved ones were in mortal danger…..
.....The two cops waiting in the parking lot heard what sounded like an air-raid siren and, as one, emerged from their cars and ran towards the beach, guns drawn.
* * * * *
Hasan felt an excruciating pain in his calf as he struggled to right himself. The fucking dog had a grip on his leg but, terrified and enraged, Luki managed to twist himself around and stab the beast with every ounce of strength he possessed, burying the blade deep into the animal's neck.
Taser in hand, Scott reached the pair just as Jinx collapsed. Writhing in the water, blood pooling around her head, she was starting to sink. Without a second thought, Scott pulled her to shore.
* * * * *
Officers Joe Maxwell and Ryan Brady followed the redhead, who was screaming at the top of her lungs. All three converged on the man holding the wounded dog in his arms, his hand wrapped around the hilt of the protruding knife trying to stem the flow of blood. Scott looked up at them with tears in his eyes and simply said, “Kill that motherfucker!!”.....
.....Lenore Rosenberg placed the binoculars and the air horn on the table beside her chair. She'd dialed 911 when she saw the shirtless son-of-a-bitch stab the dog. Hearing the sirens blaring behind her, there was nothing more she could do except try to pinpoint for the inevitable search parties exactly where Luki Hasan had disappeared into the sea.
EPILOGUE
Monday, March 26 - 7AM
The fisherman leaned on the pier's railing and dropped his line into the water. Simply hoping to get in a little quiet time before the beach started filling up with spring breakers, he yawned and watched the sun start its spectacular rise in the east.
Not really expecting to catch anything, he perked up when his rod bowed with a giant tug and he started reeling in as fast as he could. Seeing part of a bloody torso dangling from his hook, he staggered and puked all over his feet.
Monday, March 26 - Noon
We have breaking news at the top of the hour. The mangled body of Luki Hasan, the man accused of committing the recent atrocious murders of young women in Cocoa Beach, was recovered this morning. According to police, sharks had torn him apart and were most likely attracted by the gaping wound in his calf that a heroic ex-Military Working Dog inflicted yesterday morning when authorities trapped Hasan on the beach behind the Sea Side Condominiums.
Ironically, the remains of Hasan's body were discovered floating beside the pilings of the Cocoa Beach Pier where his first victim was also found. Stay tuned for further developments…
Monday, March 26 - 2PM
Scott had just stepped out of the shower when he heard his phone ringing.
“McBride here,” he said.
“Hey, buddy,” John Patterson spoke softly to his friend and colleague. “Just wanted to tell you that forensics got a set of fingerprints from the model's purse and compared them to those on file for Hasan. They match.” He took a deep breath. “We also showed his license and green card photos to Wendy Stephens and she positively identified him as the guy Christy Anderson went off with. So I think we can call this case closed.”
Scott listened intently and simply said, “Thanks for the info, John. Glad to hear the asshole was finally ID'd.”
“Okay, that's all for now. I'll see ya Wednesday, right?”
“Yep, I'll be there with bells on.”
Patterson started to hang up, but not before he asked the dreaded question. “Scott, I'm not sure how to say this. But Jinx. Is she…?”
His query went unanswered as McBride had already disconnected.
Monday, March 26 - 3PM
The old woman's aging face lit up in girlish glee when she saw the dozen roses clutched in the young man's hand.
“These are for you, Mrs. Rosenberg. And, believe me, these flowers will never be enough to express my gratitude for all your help. If it wasn't for your information, no telling what would've happened.” Scott smiled down at her and wiggled his eyebrows. “And I absolutely loved the air horn.”
Lenore grinned. “You can borrow it any time, my dear.”
Monday, March 26 - 9PM
The full moon hovered over the ocean like a giant white ball suspended in space, its stark brilliance intensified by a stiff breeze that carried the clouds out to sea.
Sitting on the balcony, the table cleared of the remnants of an overdue lasagna dinner, Erin glanced at Scott who seemed lost in deep thought.
“Earth to Detective McBride.” She couldn't help but laugh. “Where'd you go, sweetie? Moonwalking?”
“Not at all. Just thinking how happy I am.” He reached down and gently scratched around Jinx's bandaged neck. “I mean, what a difference a day makes, huh? Yesterday, I thought I'd lost one of the most precious things in my life. Today, thanks to you, I'm joyous.”
“Joyous, huh?” Erin held up her left hand and watched the diamond glitter in the moonlight. “Hope you say that fifty years from now.”
Scott smiled at his future wife, then at the two dogs snoring at their feet. “Seriously, Erin. I have to say the females really saved the day. Mrs. Rosenberg and her impromptu air raid. You and your medical knowledge. And, of course...” He knelt on the floor and cradled his injured pet's massive head.
Looking into the dog's sleepy eyes, he said, “You knew all along, didn't you, girl? That dumb son-of-a-bitch was outclassed, outsmarted, outmaneuvered…” He paused, took a deep br
eath, then whispered in her ear, “and totally jinxed.”
-END-
About the Author of Jinxed
Rebecca Stroud: As an ardent animal lover, I have been involved with all creatures great and small for over thirty years, both hands-on and through my writing/activism. I am a former reporter/columnist; a former SPCA employee and wildlife sanctuary volunteer; and a present thorn in the side of anyone who abuses those who cannot defend themselves (be they human or animal).
And although I am now a full-time author, writing the gamut from short stories to suspense fiction, you can count on finding a dog in every work I produce.
I currently live in Florida with my wonderful husband and my adored—and very old—border collie mix. Suffice it to say, both are a handful, but I wouldn't trade either of them for the crown jewels.
You can find my books at Amazon.com. They are:
Devil's Moon
Do Unto Others
Zellwood: A Dog Story
A Three-Dog Night
The Animal Advocate
If you'd like to reach me, my email address is: RebeccaStroud@aol.com (but please do put an 'identifier' in the subject line or else the messages go straight to ye olde spam-can).
* * * * * * * * * *
All my work is dedicated to my beloved husband
who, without a doubt, is the best thing that ever happened to me.
* * * * * * * * * *