Eyes of the Dead: A Crime and Suspense Thriller (The Gardens Book 1)

by Adam Netherlund

  “That it ends where it all began. Tim Scott’s ghost is down there somewhere. And I know how much you Homicide guys are always goin’ on about your ghosts and your demons. The faceless victim. Do you feel him?”

  “I don’t feel or hear him,” Berlin lied.

  “Oh, he’s there,” Simmons said, looking out over the edge into the dark. “I can hear him. Taunting me. Teasing me.”

  “What’s in the box, Simmons?”

  “It’s not really a bomb.” He grinned. “I don’t know why I told them that. Maybe ‘cuz deep down, I wanted to make a show of it.” He paused. “I knew that you’d come, you know. Ecker may have had a plan. But he was an idea man, not muscle. Too old. Too damn slow.”

  “Where’s Lexi?” Berlin asked, even though he knew the answer by now.

  “Let me through,” someone shouted from the crowd.

  Now what?

  Berlin looked over his shoulder to see Terry Richardson duck under the police tape and enter the center stage.

  “Terry?” Berlin said. “Get back behind the tape. I’m handling it.”

  “Yeah, sure looks it, Berlin.” Richardson stepped into the lit area. “Simmons? Man, what are you doing?”

  “Terry? Is that you?” Simmons asked.

  “Simmons, come on, man,” Richardson continued. “Just put the gun down and come over here. We can talk about it.”

  Simmons’ head hung low. “I’m sorry, Terry. I fucked up real bad on this one.”

  “It’s okay. We can fix it,” Richardson said.

  “Terry, please…” Berlin tried to say. He reached for him, but Richardson shrugged him off.

  Simmons wouldn’t look at either of them. His focus was out there in the black of night. “No, Terry, we can’t fix this. Not like the others. Not now.”

  “He still has Lexi,” Berlin whispered to Richardson.

  Richardson shot him a look. “What? Where is she?” Berlin pointed at the box that was propped up on the barrier and Richardson’s eyes went wide. “For real?”

  “Do what your man here says, Simmons,” Berlin said. “No one has to get hurt. Not anymore.”

  “You don’t understand, Berlin,” Simmons said. “I may have lost, but I can’t let you win. Why do you think that I used the box? Ecker told me about you and your past. Told me about that wife of yours. It sounded so perfect.”

  “Get someone from the Marine Unit in the water right now,” Berlin whispered to Richardson. But Richardson only looked at him with a blank stare. “Now, Terry.”

  He left and Berlin waited for what was to come next.

  “You’ve got a second chance now,” Simmons continued. “A second chance to save the girl.”

  “Don’t do this,” Berlin pleaded.

  “It’s already done,” Simmons said.

  In one instant Berlin was still negotiating with Simmons and in the next instant he was already colliding with him while the box was going over the edge. Simmons’ gun went off beside them, firing straight into the air, and then everything went quiet.

  ***

  Berlin couldn’t tell you what the trip was like on the way down from the bridge. But he imagined that it would have been terrifying, possibly even blood curdling. Time seemed to slow down. His breaths were short and shallow, but the real reason he couldn’t tell you is because he didn’t see it.

  After leaping over the edge with Simmons, Berlin had managed to secure himself to the top of the box with presumably Lexi Scott inside. He rode that thing like a bull down into the dark, crashing into the water below. By the time his brain caught up with him in the water, he frantically searched for the box. And for Lexi. There was no sign of Simmons.

  Berlin swam to the box, kicking and kicking with his feet as he followed it deeper into the dark. He focused on his training and his progress with holding his breath underwater. He had trained for this.

  You can do this.

  He pulled at his coat to get at the bulletproof vest. Free of the vest, he pushed it away and it sank to the bottom. Lost to the echoes of time. Once he reached the box, he wrestled and jostled with the clasps on the outside. But down in the dark, it was too hard to see what he was doing. He had to get her out of there. Who knows how long she had been cooped up in there? He didn’t have much time.

  His fingers were going raw, becoming sensitive to the touch. If he didn’t know any better, he was sure that he had lost some nails, either in the fall on the way down or here, fighting with the clasps.

  Small micro bubbles began to escape the box as it sank further to the bottom.

  Open. Why won’t you open?

  Finally, the lid opened and Lexi Scott poured out. She was bound and blindfolded. He was so startled at the sight of her, that she escaped his arms and fell away from him. Berlin swirled, bending his body, and kicked at the surface, propelling himself deeper. He took hold of her, spun back around, and kicked. She was loose, like a rag doll, empty of any sign of life. Berlin let the air seep from his lungs in a slow hiss as they steadily made their way up to the water’s surface.

  They struck the surface, Berlin gasping for air, the water scattering in drops and mist all around them. He blinked the water away and reached for Lexi. Pulling the blindfold off and down around her neck, he waited for her to come back to him. He held her bound hands on his shoulder. She went into a coughing fit a moment later, the water finally freed of her lungs.

  “You’re all right. I got you, Lexi.”

  She coughed some more in between breaths. “Ber…lin?”

  He pushed her hair back with one hand. “Yeah, it’s me. You’re okay.”

  Her eyes darted every which way. “How did…What happened? Where’s Simmons?”

  Berlin cast a curious glance around them, but there was only open water. “I don’t know, to be honest. You’re safe now.”

  She moved her bound hands over the top of his head so that he was in between her arms. She smiled.“I can see that,” she said.

  Berlin crooked his mouth at one side. “I feel so silly for doing this, but would you like to have a drink some time?”

  Lexi’s smile widened. “I’d like that.”

  CHAPTER 53

  Mitchell found them in the water shortly after their encounter with Simmons, fulfilling what he says was a vision. A vision that he had while in the hospital. Berlin couldn’t wrap his head around it. It sounded too crazy.

  Last he had heard, no one had found Simmons’ body. The Underwater Dive Unit had been deployed, but the recovery process had produced very little results. Simmons was simply gone. Perhaps daylight would yield different results. It was just as well. He and Lexi had been fortunate, escaping the plunge unscathed. The box had cushioned their fall immensely, but Simmons wouldn’t have been so lucky.

  Berlin told Mitchell on the phone, that Simmons got what was coming to him. That was all that mattered.

  For the first time in several days, Berlin felt like he finally had purpose again. A reason to be here, and more than that, a reason to stay. There was work to be done, no doubt about it. But in time, life would go on. He knew he should start by calling Kate’s parents. He had been a damn fool. He saw that now. They didn’t deserve the stress he had caused them.

  He thought of Kate and her mother, Abigail, as he fumbled with the keys at his front door. They fell to the ground, clattering on the concrete stoop, and he labored at picking them up. His whole body ached like he had just spent a few rounds in the ring. Once erect, he grit his teeth, and slid the key inside.

  But there was something…

  Something not quite right.

  What was it?

  He craned his neck and swept the street with his eyes as fast as his body would let him. Yet, he found nothing. Not a soul on the street. It was much too early in the morning for there to be anyone outdoors. He abandoned the gut feeling and turned the knob on the door. It opened to darkness. He stepped inside.

  There was something, though. He had gotten a whiff of it when the door open
ed. It was an aroma. Something like perfume. It lingered inside the house like an unseen fog that someone had left behind.

  Ginger? Yes, mixed with something sweet like citrus.

  He stood in the doorway and listened. To what, he didn’t know.

  “Hello?” he said into the shadows.

  No one answered him.

  Then, without warning, a light lit up the room. He shielded his eyes with a hand.

  “We were beginning to wonder if you were ever going to come home,” a voice said.

  Berlin blinked away the fuzzy images, his eyes adjusting to the new conditions, and he struggled to zero in on its source.

  A figure sat in a chair under the floor lamp in the corner of the room. A female. She put one leg over the other and smiled as the pull chain from the lamp jingled beside her.

  “Doctor…Coe?”

  She wore the same black dress from yesterday. Cut just above the knees with black tights and high heels. Her honey and sandy brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. It shimmered under the light of the lamp. But that was impossible. She couldn’t be here.

  She leaned back in the chair theatrically. “I’m delighted to see you back in one piece, Joseph. I have to admit, we were getting a little concerned.”

  “How…”

  They found her body. Montoya had said so.

  Berlin licked his lips, his throat suddenly running dry. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be—”

  “Dead?” Her lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Well, as you can see, I’m clearly not.” She held an arm out and pinched at her skin with two fingers. “I’m very much alive, I assure you.”

  He cast a quick glance around the room. “How did you get in here?”

  She rose from her seat. “Joseph—”

  “No, really… I want you outta here. Right now.”

  She sashayed to him, her heels clacking rhythmically on the hardwood floor like a fading heartbeat. “Joseph, I’m afraid I can’t do that. You see, I’m not quite finished with you just yet. We need to continue our sessions.”

  “Our sessions? What the hell are you talkin’ about, lady?”

  She wrinkled her nose and made a pouty face. “Joseph, please don’t use that tone with me. We still have so much work to do. Together. You’ll see.”

  “You think this is a game we’re playin’?” He crept closer, leaving the door behind him. “You need to leave.”

  The door creaked to a close behind him.

  He turned, startled by the noise and there, standing by the door was a looming figure. He wore a solid black outfit, but that was not what got Berlin’s attention. No, what got his attention was the mask. The expressionless white mask that tilted its head to one side as the pair of eyes beneath it blinked back at him.

  Berlin wavered on both of his feet. “What is this? What’s going on?”

  She took his hand and whispered into his ear, “Hush, child.”

  *

  If you enjoyed this story and would like to read the next book in the Gardens series, please consider signing up for my list. I’ll update you on new releases, specials, the odd giveaway, and in the future, an invite to my special Beta and ARC Reader groups.

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  Next up — Speak of the Dead, Book Two in the Gardens Series

  About the Author

  Adam Netherlund has worked in two bookstores in his young life and it was there that his passion for books began to really take hold. Adam enjoys reading mysteries, thrillers, and pulp books from days long past. He lives in Ontario, Canada with his wife and their pug, Vincent. Eyes of the Dead is his first novel.

  You can connect with him online at:

  www.adamnetherlund.com

  www.facebook.com/adamnetherlund

  www.twitter.com/adamnetherlund

  www.goodreads.com/adamnetherlund

  You can send him an email if the mood strikes you to: adamnetherlund@gmail.com

  If you enjoyed this book, be sure to let other readers know! As a first time author, reviews mean the world to me, and it’s a great way to persuade others to take a chance on reading someone new. You can leave reviews at most major retailers like Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Google Play, Kobo, and more. Goodreads is another great website for readers, too. It doesn’t even have to be very long, so post away, and let me know your thoughts.

  Also by Adam Netherlund

  (In order of publication)

  How to Use MailChimp for Beginners: The Indie Author’s Guide to Email Marketing

  Eyes of the Dead

  Copyright © 2015 by Adam Netherlund

  www.adamnetherlund.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Published by EnemyOne

  St. Catharines, ON

  www.enemyone.com

  Book and Cover Design by Adam Geen

  www.adamgeen.com

  Cover Image by Fairiegoodmother

  www.fairiegoodmother.deviantart.com

  Editing Services Provided by Martha Hayes

  First Edition

  ISBN-13: 978-0991736829

  ISBN-10: 0991736829