RELATIVE
TERROR
RELATIVE
TERROR
R. E. SARGENT
Whitechapel Publishing
Copyright © 2017 by R.E. Sargent
Kindle Edition
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2017
Ebook ISBN – ISBN 978-0-9989144-2-8
Whitechapel Publishing
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
To Sandi – A person is truly blessed if just once in their lifetime, they find that special someone that was created exclusively for them – Somebody that makes their life so complete that nothing will ever compare. For me, that person is you. Thank you for being my ride or die.
Table of Contents
Half-Title
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
About the Author
Publisher Feedback
Acknowledgements
For those that made this book possible through your tireless efforts, thank you for your hard work.
Editing – Monique Happy
Monique Happy Editorial Services
www.moniquehappy.com
Book Cover Design – Kelly A. Martin
KAM Design
www.kam.design
Author photo – Nanci Staley
Nanci Imagery, LLC
www.nanciimagery.com
CHAPTER ONE
Dom awoke to the sound of his cell phone. Although it was three o’clock in the morning, he was never more relieved to be awoken by the phone in the middle of the night. In fact, from the moment coherency overtook drowsiness, he could not help shivering from the sheer brutality of the nightmare that had so completely enveloped him while he slept.
Dreaming had always been a part of Dom’s sleep pattern. In fact, he could not ever remember a night that he did not dream. More often than not, his dreams were of a pleasant nature. This was not one of those times. He remembered intense fear. Fear that overtook every inch of his body. Fear so real that it scared the hell out of him.
The fourth ring of the phone brought him back to reality.
“Hello,” he whispered after he managed to get it to his ear.
“Is this Dominick Maxwell?” the voice on the other end of the line queried.
“Yes it is,” he replied, “but do you have any idea what time it is?”
“I assure you, Mr. Maxwell, this is of the utmost importance. Are you related to a Ms. Nina Dyer?”
Dom’s head immediately cleared at the mention of Nina’s name. “She’s my sister,” he replied, panic edging into his voice. “Is everything all right?”
“I’m not able to speak with you about this over the phone, Mr. Maxwell. All that I can tell you is that your sister is in Southwest Hospital and I need you to come down here. My name is Detective Kent Perry and I’m with the Peoria Police Department. We found your name in her cell phone.”
He could not believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t decide which was worse. The dream that had so deeply terrified him or the cold, harsh reality staring him in the face. “Is she all right?” Dom asked, shock clouding his brain.
“She’s alive, Mr. Maxwell. That’s all I can tell you. I’ll be waiting for you in the lobby of the hospital. Please hurry! This is a matter of extreme urgency.”
“On my way. I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.” Dom tossed his phone down on the bed and let out a groan.
Anger filled his thoughts as he rolled out of bed and groped for the light switch. It was starting all over again. All of his life, everyone close to him had died. Not just normal deaths either. Every person he had lost had been a victim of foul play. Murder. Even though he was told that some of the deaths were just accidents, he knew better. His parents had been killed when he was nine. The brakes on their Buick had failed while they were traveling down a steep mountain grade. While everyone told him it was just a freak accident, the police had asked a lot of questions and didn’t officially close the case for some time. Deep down inside, his subconscious had him convinced it was no accident.
Neither was the death of his older brother, Phillip, who was shot in a hunting accident. His Aunt Cheryl went to sleep one night and never woke up. Then there was his grandmother on his father’s side, who fell down a flight of stairs, his favorite teacher in high school, and Billy. Just thinking about Billy made him sad and angry. He really missed him a lot.
Billy was Dom’s best friend all through school and for the five years after high school. They had been through everything together. When he needed somebody to talk to, no matter what time it was, no matter what he was doing, no matter where he was, Billy was there.
After high school when Dom turned eighteen, he and Billy got a studio apartment together. It wasn’t the Ritz. It was anything but. Sharing an apartment with no privacy was not the most convenient setup in the world. If one of them brought a girl home for the night, the other one had to disappear. No matter how inconvenient it got, they were always there for each other no matter what was happening in the world around them. It was all a part of a friendship that could never be broken. They even both worked at the same electronics store. Sure, it wasn’t a job with much of a future, but it was only temporary. Or so they had thought.
Dom and Billy had both managed to smooth talk their family members into buying them guitars for Christmas their freshman year. They practiced together all of the time and had hopes of starting a band one day. As with everything else, they shared the same musical appreciation. They’d planned on working at the electronics store only until their band got going. But it never had a chance.
At the age of twenty-three, Billy had been shot in the back by a mugger. He had just finished withdrawing money from an ATM machine at the bank when the mugger came up from behind him, took his money, and shot him from point blank range. The surveillance cameras showed the whole thing, but because of the dark clothing that covered the mugger’s entire body, including a deep hood, they could not get a good description of the killer. He was never caught and Billy was
gone forever. It seemed like just yesterday that he had lost his best friend although it had already been three years. Dom had just celebrated his twenty-sixth birthday, but he had spent it alone. It was hard to keep the sad thoughts from overshadowing his happy times. He missed Billy terribly. He always would.
He never picked up his guitar again. He just couldn’t live the dream without his best friend. Losing Billy was one wound that would never heal.
After all of the heartache that he had suffered over the years, now it was his sister that was hurt. Nina was six years older than Dom and he got together with her at least once a week. Whether it was dinner or a movie or just meeting over coffee to talk, he tried to spend as much time as possible with her. Dom and Nina were really close and he idolized her. She was the only thing he had left in his life after Billy had died.
His brother, Phillip, who had been three years older than him, had died a couple of years ago in the woods, one early August morning. Phillip had promised that it was his year to get an elk. He and a friend of his had just purchased brand new bows. He couldn’t fail. After all, it was his year. No one could explain why, during archery season, Phillip had been shot through the head with a .357 Magnum bullet. He died instantly. There was never a clue to his murder. The police said someone must have been hunting illegally with a firearm and Phillip must have been hit by a stray bullet. In the head. By a .357 Magnum. He never had a chance.
Dom pulled his shirt over his head and tugged on his jeans. He felt like he was still dreaming but knew that what was in store for him was cold, harsh reality. He’d known his sister would be taken away from him some day. It was inevitable, but there was no way he could prepare himself for this eventuality. He always knew it would be someday and now someday was here.
On the way out the door, he reached for the switch to shut off the light. Changing his mind, he locked the door and pulled it shut behind him. He knew the light would be his only friend upon his return. Heading towards his Toyota Tacoma, he shivered at the way the moon reflected a reddish hue off of the hood and onto the garage door. Thoughts of blood-covered clothing filled his head. He had to stop and close his eyes to blank out the vision. Opening his eyes again, he shook off the apparition and walked to his truck, slowly slipping behind the wheel.
As he started the engine, thoughts of past murders filled his head and he thought about how fortunate he was to have the house that he lived in. Aunt Cheryl had left the house to him in her will. Uncle Charlie would have been the sole heir to Aunt Cheryl’s estate had she not divorced him soon after Dom had moved into his first apartment.
According to Aunt Cheryl, Uncle Charlie couldn’t keep it in his pants. When she divorced him, she ended up with everything and he got nothing. The house occasionally brought back sad memories, but he was at peace with Aunt Cheryl’s death. She had not met death violently, at least. The coroner had labeled her death as one of natural causes. Dom wasn’t buying it, but like everything else, he had no evidence that said otherwise.
He backed out of the driveway and headed towards Southwest Hospital. It was about ten minutes from his house. While glad that Nina was still alive, he was skeptical that she would make it. After all, it was a fact of his life. It was the way things happened. It was fate.
He drove through the empty streets trying to collect his thoughts. As he pulled into the hospital parking lot, his eye was caught by the reflection of the neon “Emergency” sign on the parked cars in the doctors’ parking lot. Once again, he was reminded of blood.
He thought back to the day he heard his parents had been in an accident. How he had overheard the police talking about the car being covered in blood. How his parents were dead. Everyone he cared about was dead.
Why wasn’t he one of the victims of this unexplained force in his life? Who or what was doing this to him? Why was he made to suffer? What forces of evil were tapped into his feelings, the strong feelings he had for the special people in his life? Forces that did not hesitate to snuff out the lives of people he deeply cared about. Forces he could not explain. When would this ever end? Was he next? Dom had no idea what was in store for him, but he felt like he would find out soon enough. One thing that he did know, however, was that life would never be the same again.
CHAPTER TWO
Dom pulled into a parking space next to a Porsche in the visitors parking area. As he was struggling to get his keys out of the ignition, he opened the door and took off his seat belt. After finally managing to jiggle the keys loose, he jumped out of his truck and slammed the door shut.
The silence of the parking lot contrasted with the noise of the stereo in the truck. He hadn’t really been paying attention, but now with the silence surrounding him, he realized that the classic rock station he had been listening to had been blaring out the Guns and Roses’ classic “Welcome to the Jungle”, on his trip to the hospital. It seemed kind of ironic as he recalled the line in the song that referenced being in the jungle and the certainty of dying. He winced at how easily this prophecy might come true.
The parking lot was devoid of people and very few cars dotted the blacktop. It looked like a slow night for the forces of evil. He found his way to the main doors and entered the lobby. Upon entering, he was involuntarily forced to squint to protect his eyes from the bright lights. The idea behind the lighting was probably to make the room bright and cheery, but he didn’t feel in such high spirits. At first glance, he thought he was alone in the room. The hard, straight back chairs arranged around the room in orderly fashion seemed to be the only inhabitants. Then Dom caught movement out of the corner of his eye.
He reeled his head around just in time to see a figure stand up from the chair it seemed to be one with. The movement caught him off guard and he jumped a little at the sound of his name.
“Mr. Maxwell?”
“Yes,” Dom answered. “You must be Detective Perry.”
“Yes, I am.”
He was not at all what Dom had expected. While conversing with him on the phone, he had pictured a person much like Peter Faulk on “Columbo.” This was not the case. Kent Perry appeared to be in his late thirties. In lieu of a trench coat and hat, Detective Perry wore a pair of jeans and a T-shirt partially obscured by a plaid button-up shirt, which was unbuttoned. He could just make out the letters “DC” on Detective Perry’s T-shirt. Perry was the exact opposite of what Dom was expecting, right down to the Nikes on his feet.
“Thank you for coming, Mr. Maxwell. Have a seat and I’ll tell you everything I can.”
Dom slipped into the closest chair. “Detective, I’d like to see my sister,” he requested.
“As soon as I fill you in, Mr. Maxwell. You need to know what I have to tell you.”
“As long as we hurry. Call me Dom, please.”
“Thank you, Dom. Here’s the situation. We received a call from one of your sister’s neighbors saying she heard screaming from your sister’s house. Upon investigating, we found your sister in her garage lying on the ground by her car, in a pool of blood. She has severe trauma to her head and chest area and is in a coma.”
Dom was numb with shock. “What happened to her? Who did this?” he asked, confusion clouding his brain again.
Detective Perry swallowed hard. “It appears that someone forced entry into your sister’s house and attacked her. From what we can make out, it looked like she was settled in for the night when someone surprised her. They picked the lock on the back patio door and entered the house. From the trail of blood, it looks like they attacked her in her bedroom where, by the way, she must have put up one hell of a struggle. From there, it moved into the hallway, through the living room and into the kitchen. From the looks of it, they had another struggle there. Everything was smashed all over the floor and the kitchen table was splintered by a tremendous force. She was stabbed multiple times by a kitchen knife, which we found at the scene. Evidently, she must have broken free from there and tried to get to her car to get away. The attacker caught up to her as she opened
the car door and took her down. That was basically the end of it. The attacker left her for dead.”
Dom couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His sister, whom he loved so much, was the kindest, gentlest person he knew and to him was an angel. How could she be so viciously attacked by another human being? Who could do such a thing? His stomach twisted into knots as he tried to comprehend what the detective had just unloaded onto him.
“Did you catch the guy?” Dom asked.
“Unfortunately not.” The detective cast his glance downwards, shifting his weight in the chair, seemingly troubled by the question.
“Is there something wrong, Detective? You look as if something is bothering you.”
Detective Perry looked up at Dom, obviously surprised by his perception. “Yes, there is something wrong. Right now, there are no clues to the identity of the person that assaulted your sister. There are no witnesses, no one saw a strange vehicle, there are no fingerprints, footprints, fibers, hairs; nothing at the scene of the crime to give us a lead at all. We have nothing to go on. What I’m trying to say is that without any evidence in this case, there isn’t even a suspect to investigate. The only thing we can hope for is for someone to come forward with some information, or for your sister to regain consciousness, so she can tell us who did this to her.”
Dom was crushed. Would whoever did this get away with it? It sure seemed that way to him.
“Dom, do you know of anyone that might want to hurt your sister? Any enemies she might have?”
“None that I know of,” he replied. “Nina is the kindest soul I know. People are attracted to her like a magnet. Her personality is buoyant. Her smile is intoxicating. Nina is loved by everyone she comes into contact with.”
Detective Perry’s expression was enough to make Dom’s heart wither. Dom could tell that he didn’t expect Nina to make it. It was a look of regret and sorrow.
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