Savage Heart

by M. G Scott

  SAVAGE HEART

  By

  M.G. Scott

  Copyright © 2013 by M.G. Scott

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the author. The only exception is a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review or article.

  Published by Digital Vine Media LLC

  ISBN: 978-0-9896009-0-3

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations, and events are products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Dedicated to my family who form the inspiration for my storytelling

  Chapter 1

  Devastation.

  Sabrina Katz thought it, felt it, lived it. Everyday. And as she ran along the foothills near Neskowin, Oregon, she knew today would be no exception.

  The trail edged right. Sabrina stopped, her heart beating a runner’s pace, and glanced at her watch. A weak smile worked its way onto her lips, temporarily easing the agony that was always with her. She started up again, the gravel underfoot crunching louder with every step.

  Another look at her watch: Could it really be true?

  It is, she thought. She was on pace for a nine-minute mile—a time unthinkable just a month ago.

  With her heart beating more rapidly, she headed down toward the water. Glancing to her left, she caught a final glimpse of the foothills and smiled again, this time a little wider. The Pacific Northwest was more beautiful than she ever imagined it would be when she made the gut-wrenching decision to leave the only home she knew—New York City.

  She veered right, following the trail as it led toward Neskowin’s small downtown area, and felt the peace of the ocean as the waves crashed against the empty beach—a beach she figured in a few hours would be bustling with early June tourists.

  As the trail neared sea level, Sabrina glanced casually at the wooden sign announcing the entrance to the Neskowin Beach State Wayside and momentarily cheered to herself. She was only a mile from her goal—the corner of Breakers Boulevard and Salem Avenue.

  The path nudged her west, toward a statue of a boy that stood in the middle of the sand, no more than seventy-five feet from the water. As she half-wondered why it was there, her eyes caught something else in the sand. Normally, she would’ve glanced right over it, but something about how the shallow waves lapped around it made her pause.

  Pondering whether the early morning run was making her delusional, she slowed to a walk and took a few steps off the trail toward the water.

  Was it a washed up log from high tide? Or maybe a buoy came loose from the storm they had last night. She took a few more steps and suddenly the reality of what her eyes told her smacked her in the gut.

  It wasn’t any of those things. It was a body.

  Chapter 2

  Just for a second, Sabrina stared at the corpse. A damp shirt still covered the upper torso, but that was it—no shoes covered the gangly toes, no pants over the pasty yellow legs. It just lay there in a clump, wretched at an angle no living human would ever want to be in.

  Sabrina fumbled for her cellphone—something she always carried with her since the attack on her sister—and punched in 9-1-1. Two seconds later, the dispatcher answered.

  “This is the Oceanside 911 center. What is the emergency?” the calming female said.

  “My name’s Sabrina Katz,” she hurriedly said. “I just found a body while running near the beach. I think it’s male, but I’m not entirely sure.”

  “Okay. I’m verifying my Caller Location Information,” the dispatcher replied. “I have you just west of Breakers Boulevard and Mount Angel Avenue in Neskowin. Is that correct?”

  Sabrina turned toward the street and squinted at the sign. “I think that’s right.”

  “I’m sending an officer and an EMT right away.”

  “Please hurry! I don’t know who it is, but it doesn’t look good. If there’s anything you can do to save him…”

  “Miss?”

  “Yes?”

  “We’re going to get there as fast we can.” And then the dispatcher said softly, “I’m going to stay on the line until the emergency personnel arrive. Is that okay?”

  “Yes, yes. Of course.”

  “Good. Now do you know CPR?”

  “I do, but it’s been a few years.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll walk you through the steps,” the dispatcher replied. “The first thing I need you to determine is a pulse. Can you put your index and middle fingers in the soft spot between the windpipe and the muscle?”

  Sabrina walked the ten feet to the body and swallowed hard. “Yes,” she replied meekly. She turned away. Seeing the still body from this angle didn’t sit well. She took a deep breath and gathered herself. Remove the emotion, she thought. She turned back and made herself look at him again.

  He had the outline of a beard that was at least a few days old. His face was pasty white, and his mouth was slightly open, as if capturing a thought frozen in time. Sabrina knelt on a knee and placed two fingers on the right side of the neck. The cold, heavy skin made her shudder, but she was determined to see this through. “I can’t feel anything. His neck seems a bit clammy.”

  “Okay,” the dispatcher responded dejectedly. “The emergency personnel should be there momentarily.”

  As if synchronized, Sabrina heard the sirens of multiple vehicles to the south, along Breakers Blvd. “They’re coming.”

  “They’ll take over from here. If you need anything else, call 911 again.”

  “Thank you. I will.” Sabrina ended the call and stared at the lifeless face. C’mon, she thought, show me you’re alive. But the whites of his eyes just stared aimlessly into the early morning sky, unable to soak in life.

  Whoever he was, he was gone forever. She was sure of it.

  “Whoa there, lady. What do you think you’re doing?” a man in a white polo said as he grabbed her arm.

  “Just trying to save him,” she retorted, as she stared at the bulky hand wrapped around her wrist. Suddenly, swarms of medical workers and police started attending to the body. “I was out for a morning run before heading into the newspaper, and came across the body.”

  He let her go. “So you’re the one who called it in?” He looked at his Blackberry. “Sabrina Katz?”

  “I am,” she replied curtly. “Any idea who it might be?”

  Ignoring her question, he said, “You gotta move back. The area’s being quarantined off.”

  She rubbed the sand off her hands and pushed herself up. She followed the officer back toward the running trail. “Can I get a moment of your time?”

  He kept walking, toward another group of emergency workers.

  “How rude!” she yelled after him.

  That made him stop. He turned toward her, waiting a second while she caught up to him. “Listen lady. I don’t know who the hell you are, but I’ve got a lot on my plate.” He wiggled a finger in her face. “We don’t get bodies washing ashore all that often.”

  On his shirt, she made out the emblem of the Lincoln City police department. “Look, I’m sorry. But I need your opinion.”

  “On what?”

  She brushed an errant clump of hair away from her eyes. “Whether you think this will be written up as an accidental drowning or not.”

  “Why are you asking such—” He stopped and then said, “That’s what you meant by heading into the newspaper. … You’re a reporter.”

  “I am,” Sabrina confessed. “For the Neskowin Beacon.” And it’s my first day.

  “Well, I don’t have time for this bullshit. We’ll let you know when we release the re
port.” He turned and walked away.

  “You’re going to say it’s an accident, aren’t you?”

  “That I haven’t confirmed,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Yeah, well, it’s not.”

  He stopped and turned. “How the hell do you know that?”

  “I don’t. All I can say is it’s women’s intuition.”

  A small chuckle. “Women’s intuition? How the hell am I going to buy that?” He waved his hand at her. “Don’t bother answering. I don’t want to know.” He studied her for a moment. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

  “Good catch. I’m a New Yorker. Well, ex-New Yorker.”

  “Well then … the Pacific Northwest should be a shock to the system.”

  “That’s what I’m looking for.”

  He stuck out a burly hand. “Sam Urbina. I’m a detective with the—”

  “Lincoln City Police Department.” She nodded toward his shirt. “I gathered that.”

  A smirk. “You certainly are a quick-witted one.”

  “It’s called survival.”

  Another officer stepped up to the detective and handed him a paper form with markings and notes written on it.

  The detective browsed the form, which Sabrina could only guess was an outline of the scene. “You’ll have to excuse me,” he mumbled.

  Sabrina eyed the detective as he walked toward the body with the officer at his side. The officer knelt down, pulled back the white cloth covering the body, and pointed to his arms and legs.

  A few minutes later, the detective returned. “Interesting what you can find when you do this long enough.”

  “Oh?” She was intrigued by what he knew. Besides, it kept her mind off far worse things. “And what’s that?”

  “We’re not going there, Ms. Katz,” he said sternly. “And especially when I haven’t discussed it with the coroner.”

  “Isn’t there something you can tell me?” She couldn’t go back empty-handed. She had already blown off her first meeting with her boss, the newspaper’s editor. But this had to be an easy excuse. Wouldn’t a body lying on the shoreline be a definite newsmaker?

  He shook his head. “I only just met you, but you’re a damn bullhead, that’s for sure.”

  She smiled. “That’s not the first time I’ve heard that.”

  “And probably not the last, Ms. Katz.”

  “Just call me Sabrina.”

  He peered at her, as if trying to read her intent. “For some reason, I like you,” he said after a moment. “So today’s going to be your lucky day. How about a bit of an insider tip?”

  Sabrina’s eyes lit up. Anything to lessen the blow her new boss was going to throw at her. “And what’s that?”

  “That I think your women’s intuition is right: It doesn’t look accidental.”

  “So it’s a homicide?”

  “I’m not jumping to any future conclusions.”

  “Suicide?”

  Urbina shrugged a shoulder. “We’ll see. I haven’t heard a thing from our friends up the coast regarding a missing person yet.”

  “That’s all you’re going to tell me? That it maybe wasn’t an accident?”

  Urbina smirked. “It’s a body that washed ashore. It does happen on occasion along any coastline. And the cause can be anything: boating, storms, fishing, swimming, para-gliding, or just plain suicide. But my bet on this one is it’s suicide. I’ve seen enough of them to know.”

  Sabrina shook her head. “Maybe I need to give up on my intuition.” After all, his experience was nowhere near hers. “So how long will you keep the case open?”

  “I’ll give it forty-eight hours. We’ll see what the coroner says. If nothing turns up, then we’ll close it down. Let the family claim their loved one and move on.”

  “And what about an ID?”

  “We’ll start a scan in the next hour or so. Hopefully a missing persons report will produce a match. If not, then we’ll post it ourselves and see what happens.”

  The group of officers huddling near the body disbanded. One of them came over and tapped the detective on the shoulder. “Sam, they’re about ready to load the body.”

  Urbina nodded and then turned to Sabrina. “You’ll have to excuse me.”

  “Good day, Detective,” Sabrina replied, and then added, “I hope we meet again under different circumstances.”

  “I have no doubt,” he replied over his shoulder. “I have no doubt.”

  Sabrina watched with interest as the coroner’s team went to work. Much like a paramedic readying his patient for the trip to the hospital, the team loaded him onto a backboard for the trip to the coroner’s office. As they worked the board’s straps, a swift wind kicked in, momentarily lifting the sheet off the body.

  Although it wasn’t more than a few seconds, seeing the remnants of a once vibrant soul made her shudder—and stirred the tragic memory that was never far from her thoughts.

  It was the reason she moved to the Pacific Northwest from New York. Now three thousand miles away from her closest friends, relocating was a small price to pay for starting a new life, a new beginning—one she desperately needed to escape the gut-wrenching emotions she felt shackled to.

  A nudge by the crowd brought her back to reality. She stared at the corpse as they carried it toward the ambulance. However this man died, his family was about to experience the same fragility of life she endured two months ago.

  If only she could’ve stopped her own sister’s murder.

  Chapter 3

  Gina Hyde exited Highway 5 and then headed toward Charles Avenue—a well-kept street on San Diego’s southeast side.

  She stopped in front of her small bungalow and pushed herself out of the hybrid. Flashing her face toward the late afternoon sun, she wondered if a minute of tanning would do anything for her chapped skin. For early June, the weather in San Diego couldn’t have been more perfect.

  Her mind wandered to yesterday, the last day she hoped to ever see her boyfriend. After he stumbled in drunk for the umpteenth time at two in the morning, she had had enough. She just couldn’t go on living like this.

  I am not spending the rest of my life with this man, she thought.

  But today was a new day. She was headed in a new direction. She wasn’t exactly sure where, but that’s what made it so exhilarating. And besides, she was days away from school getting out and the teaching headaches that went with it.

  Gina turned toward the front door and strolled up to it, while at the same time hunting for the key in her purse. Finding it, she slipped the key into the deadbolt lock and turned. Nothing happened.

  That’s weird, she thought. She was sure she had locked the deadbolt.

  Shrugging it off, she unlocked the lower lock and swung the door open. The familiar scent of her favorite vanilla candle floated toward her nose as she dropped her bag near the overly cheerful kitchen. She sighed. Another exhausting day teaching the circus known as high school kids. She pulled a glass from the pale yellow cabinets, poured the sun tea full to the rim, and slumped onto one of her two kitchen chairs.

  Something wasn’t right.

  Maybe her senses were being overly cautious, but she sensed something. Her eyes searched the room and found the calendar dangling over the stove—a daily reminder of what she had to overcome. Everybody told her the second year was half as hard as the first. But to her, this year was worse.

  And then she saw them.

  Two diamond earrings, neatly pinned into a black velvet cloth, lay on her kitchen counter. She gasped at the site of them as they had to be nearly two karats each and sparkled like a prism of glass. For a moment, she forgot the reason for throwing him out yesterday, but then she saw the handwritten note lying against the cloth and it snapped her back to reality. She leaned toward the counter so she could make out the words: Come back to me ‘Gin. I can’t think of spending the rest of my life without you. Love with all my heart, Gregory.

  In a fit of anger, she crumpled up the
note and threw it in the garbage. How dare he try to win her back? She had given him more than enough chances to get his act together and every time he said he would. The problem was they were always empty words.

  She was done with him. She had thrown him out yesterday after finally getting the courage to stop the abuse—both verbal and physical—that she received almost weekly from him. She felt her still swollen cheek. Gregory was a control freak—and a closet alcoholic. Besides, the mood swings drove her nuts. There was no telling what he would do when he had too much to drink.

  Suddenly, her cellphone buzzed from inside her purse. She reached into the bag and grabbed the phone. She eyed the caller ID and cursed to herself. “What don’t you get? I don’t want to see you any more!” she yelled to the unanswered phone.

  But after the fourth ring, she decided she needed to make it perfectly clear he wasn’t wanted in her life anymore. She answered it with a deliberate press of her thumb. “What do you want?” she barked.

  “Did you see the earrings I left for you?” Gregory said in a silky voice—a tone he used whenever he knew he was wrong.

  “I did. And they went right into the trash.” Gina bit her tongue as she hoped he didn’t catch the lie. What girl in their right mind would throw away diamonds?

  “C’mon ‘Gin! I’m going through a tough time right now. Won’t you at least let me explain?”

  “Explain what? I’ve already given you enough chances, and I’m done.”

  “Please,” he pleaded. “Something’s bad happened. I just found out yesterday and I need to tell you.”

  She bit her lip. Was he really serious or just being conniving like his typical self? She had hoped her conversation with him yesterday would’ve been the last, but now he’s dragging himself back into her life like a lost puppy. She was sick of it. Every time she tried to make a stand for herself, he would plead for sympathy and she would give in, and it always turned into a bigger mistake every time.