The Forest of Forever (The Soren Chase Series, Book One)

by Rob Blackwell

  “But I don’t remember meeting you afterward,” Soren said. “I can’t believe you wouldn’t have made an impression.”

  Annika shook her head.

  “It was very brief,” she said. “I introduced myself, shook your hand, and asked you a few questions. There’s no reason you would recall me.”

  Soren wondered if that was true. He’d attended a dozen or so conferences during the past five years, mostly so he could meet other experts in the field and compare notes. He needed leads on certain cases.

  Still, he thought he would remember someone as attractive as Annika approaching him, even if it was just for a few moments. Then again there was no doubt that his memory was a bigger problem than he liked to admit.

  “I hope I was polite,” he said.

  “Very,” she responded. “I sort of expected you to hit on me, actually—you seemed like that type—but you didn’t. You were distracted. We only talked for a moment before you had to run off and meet someone about a case you were interested in.”

  That seemed familiar. He remembered that a contact in Atlanta had turned him on to an event in Piedmont Park.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “No need to be,” she said. “I wasn’t working for the Wallace Institute at the time. I wasn’t even that interested in parapsychology then. I was just a fan. But your talk worked. I became much more interested after that.”

  “Did you really believe what I said?”

  “Let’s just say I was intrigued,” she said. “And ever since I hooked up with Wallace, I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to procure your services. I just needed the right case.”

  “Why this one?” he asked.

  “You’ve seen the file,” she said. “We aren’t talking about one killing. Let’s say this guy Evan did it, do you think that’s the whole story? What about Marshall, Coakley, and Mitchell? Or what happened to the nudist colony there?”

  Soren had no idea what she was talking about.

  “Wait, what?”

  “I thought you said you read the file,” she said, her tone slightly disapproving.

  “It was huge. I didn’t have time to read everything.”

  “You can read more of the details later, but a couple bought the land in the 1960s and turned it into a nudist colony.”

  “Let me guess: it ended badly,” Soren said.

  “I suppose, though not as dramatically as it did for some others who lived near the forest,” Annika said. “Nobody died or disappeared at least. I forget the woman’s name. Erica maybe? Something like that. Anyway, she had a mental breakdown of some kind. Her husband shut the place down after that.”

  “Somehow I feel like there’s more to it,” Soren said.

  “It’s what she said when she snapped,” Annika replied. “She was a big believer in nature, as evidenced by the nudist thing. It wasn’t a sex commune—quite the opposite. The place was supposed to be about meditation and tranquility, so romantic liaisons were strictly forbidden. For such a nature lover, however, she turned on the place. Her husband told the doctors that she became convinced the land around there was evil. He finally shut the colony down when she tried to burn the forest to the ground.”

  “That’s one way to go, I guess,” Soren said. “I’d have thought the sensible solution would be to leave.”

  “Lots of people do crazy stuff around Reapoke Forest,” she replied.

  “Reapoke Forest?” Soren asked. “I don’t remember seeing that on the map.”

  “It’s how the Wallace Institute is referring to the place,” she said. “It’s not a formal name but something we found out, based on what the Indians in the area used to call the place. ‘Reapoke’ is an old Virginia Algonquin word.”

  “Sounds cool.”

  “It means ‘devil,’” Annika finished. “We think they called it the Forest of the Devil. Catchy, huh?”

  “I think the word you meant to say was ‘disturbing.’”

  “Anyway, my point in bringing up the nudist colony and those other incidents is that we feel like Reapoke Forest is at the center of something big and has been for a long time. We needed an experienced investigator, someone with credibility, to check it out.”

  Soren laughed out loud.

  “So why’d you hire me, then?” he asked. “You know my history. I have serious baggage.”

  “I think you underestimate your importance,” she said. “There are plenty of people that follow you. Besides, we think with our resources and your talent for getting to the bottom of things, we could have something here that goes well beyond the small world of parapsychology. We think others will have to take notice. And once they do—”

  “You’re hoping people might start to believe your theory,” Soren finished. “About this being the beginning of something much bigger.”

  “Exactly,” she said.

  “Which brings me to my next question,” Soren said. “Why isn’t this more well-known? I’ve heard of supposedly cursed places before, like Dudleytown or Burkittsville. I’ve never heard of a Reapoke Forest or even Bethlehem, Virginia.”

  “This is a big country,” Annika said. “I think there are several places like this that probably stay off the radar.”

  “I’m surprised some reporter also hasn’t connected the dots,” Soren said. “I saw the articles on Evan Turner. It even got some play on CNN. You’d think someone would do a story about the wood’s grisly past.”

  “To what end?” Annika asked. “To them it’s all ancient history. It’s much easier to goose the ratings by talking about the tragedy of it all and speculating on Evan’s motives. You of all people should understand that.”

  Soren lowered his sunglasses so he could give her a withering look. Annika took her hands off the wheel and raised them in the air in mock surrender.

  “I know, I know,” she said. “You’re not going to talk about it. That doesn’t mean I have to pretend it didn’t happen.”

  “Yes it does,” he replied.

  “Can I admit something else?” she asked.

  “Somehow I don’t think I can stop you.”

  “Our best people have already looked at this case. We need a new set of eyes, someone with a fresh perspective. I convinced my boss that person was you. You’re the one, Soren. You’re the guy that’s going to break this wide open for us. I can feel it.”

  Soren thought her remark sounded genuine. The problem wasn’t her, it was him. After looking at the case, he was caught up in it as well. It was fascinating. But something made him wary, too. The history of Reapoke Forest was littered with corpses. He was going to have to be careful not to end up among them.

  Chapter Seven

  Annika parked in the visitor spot of the police station as Soren tried not to think about the last time he had been inside one of these buildings.

  The paranoid part of his psyche conjured an image of him being handcuffed and once again hauled off to a cell, the victim of an elaborate scam to somehow trick him into coming in. But of course that was absurd. The police didn’t need to bring someone in under false pretenses. They simply showed up and demanded you come.

  Still, it was a feeling he found hard to shake off as they entered the gray, bland building and stepped up to the security desk. The desk chief barely paused at Annika’s ID, but he lingered over Soren’s. It might have only been twenty seconds, but it felt like several long minutes as the guard eyed him and the small plastic card with Soren’s photo on it. Before Soren could ask if there was something wrong, however, the guard finally handed the card back and waved them through.

  Annika walked confidently through a series of hallways and then gestured for him to wait outside while she stepped into an office. She closed the door behind her, and all Soren could hear was the low-level buzz of a conversation.

  Annika strolled out a few minutes later and smiled at him.

  “All ready,” she said. She dangled a key from her finger.

  “Evan’s here?” Soren asked.
/>   Annika nodded.

  “How’s that even possible?” he continued. “The murders were two months ago. If he’s been charged, he should be sitting in a jail cell, assuming he hasn’t been let out on bond.”

  “He was transferred here this morning so he could meet with us,” she said.

  He watched her as they walked down the hallway together.

  “How in the world are you even swinging this? We aren’t cops, not even consultants.”

  “Technically, that’s exactly what we are,” Annika replied. “We’ve kept it low profile, but we’ve managed to secure a contract with the police force for ‘unusual’ cases. This easily falls under that rubric. They’ve run into a brick wall in this investigation. We’re here to help.”

  Soren had a slew of follow-up questions but never got the chance to ask them. Instead, Annika opened a door to their left to reveal a man wearing an orange jumpsuit sitting behind a table. The scene felt hauntingly familiar, but the places had been changed. Now, as Soren took a chair, he found himself as the interrogator instead of the one answering the questions.

  “You must be Evan Turner,” Annika said, her voice warm and cheerful despite the surroundings.

  The man in front of them looked pale in the wan fluorescent lighting. There were shackles on his arms and feet, but he hardly looked like a threat. He was skinny, and Soren guessed he had lost significant weight since he had been incarcerated. His hair was matted, as if it hadn’t been washed in several days.

  “Why am I here?” he asked. “I’ve already told the other investigators everything.”

  “We’re here to go over the details again,” Annika said.

  Evan clearly assumed they were cops, and Annika didn’t disabuse him of that idea. Soren made a mental note to look deeper into the Wallace Institute and its connections. Even as “consultants,” they should have had a police officer present. Yet it was just the three of them.

  He also noted the way Annika had known her way around the building. Not exactly cause for alarm, but a suggestion she was very comfortable here.

  “What’s the point?” Evan said. “They’re all dead.”

  “Alice may still be alive,” Annika replied.

  Evan stared at her but didn’t respond. Soren could see it in his eyes; he didn’t believe it. Or perhaps it was worse than that—his expression indicated he knew Alice was dead. He had either killed her himself or seen it done.

  “Tell us again what you can remember,” Annika said.

  “We were on a camping trip,” Evan said. “Something happened. I was talking with Alice and we heard screaming. When I got back to the campsite, someone hit me on the back of the head and I was knocked out. I woke up a couple minutes later, but by then two of my friends were hanging in the trees. I left to get help but got lost in the woods.”

  Evan said the words the same way a person might recite a particularly dull poem that was required in class—his tone was flat and emotionless.

  “Do you remember anything else?” Annika asked.

  “No,” he replied. “I wandered in the woods for a few days, and then I was eventually picked up.”

  “Why were you there?” she asked.

  “I told you, it was a camping trip,” he responded.

  “A hell of a place to camp,” she said. “There’s plenty of better spots around there, including Chickahominy Riverfront Park just down the road. There’s no need to kayak your way into a remote location.”

  Evan barely looked up.

  “We wanted to get away from everyone, find someplace out of the way,” he said.

  “So it didn’t matter where you went?” she asked.

  “No, we were just wandering,” he replied.

  Soren watched Annika almost as much as Evan during the interview. Her questions were casual and seemed strangely perfunctory, like she wasn’t even paying attention to the answers. Perhaps she wasn’t. So far Evan had stuck very close to what he’d told police.

  “That’s funny,” Annika said. “Because you had a map with you, and there was an area circled in red. That area was precisely where your friends’ bodies were located.”

  Evan looked at her dully, his face betraying nothing.

  “So?”

  “It suggests you were going somewhere specific, and your friends died at that location,” she said. “Why were you there, Evan?”

  Soren could see the wheels turning in Evan’s brain, calculations being made about what he should say to get himself out of the corner he had backed himself into.

  “I don’t know,” he said finally. “Gavin was leading us. Maybe he had a spot in mind. I didn’t ask.”

  “Stop lying,” Annika said. “I read your e-mails. ‘I’ve found it, Gav. I know where we need to go.’ That doesn’t sound like Gavin was in charge.”

  Soren raised his eyebrows at that. Somehow she had Evan’s private e-mails, a discovery that had not been included in the file she’d given Soren. It seemed there was very little Annika didn’t have access to. Evan looked surprised, too.

  “How did you—?” he started to ask before she cut him off.

  “The police don’t have those e-mails yet,” Annika said. “It was neat the way you and Gavin had hidden accounts. My people dug them up. I will, of course, have to hand them over to the cops soon unless I see some sign you’re cooperating.”

  Evan’s expression shifted from shock to alarm. For the first time he seemed to truly assess Annika, looking at her carefully. His eyes wandered over to Soren.

  “Who the hell are you guys?”

  “The only ones that can assist you,” Annika said. “We know why you were interested in that spot, Evan. We are, too. But we can’t help you unless you cooperate. I promise you, anything you say here will be between us. We aren’t trying to throw you in jail. All we want is the truth.”

  Evan stared at her and looked slowly between Annika and Soren, apparently weighing a decision. Finally he sighed and looked at the table.

  “I can’t help you,” he said. “I told the police the truth. I blacked out before I saw anything.”

  Annika clenched her fists in frustration and gave Evan a cold stare. Her demeanor shifted from friendly to furious. She looked over at Soren.

  “Well? Aren’t you going to ask anything?”

  Soren smiled slightly and looked at Evan, who didn’t respond.

  “Have the dreams started yet?”

  That got Evan’s attention. He seemed visibly startled. The answer to Soren’s question was written all over Evan’s face.

  “They’re just going to get worse,” Soren continued. “What you saw will keep eating away at you day after day, hour after hour. It’ll be like a worm in your heart, devouring everything in sight. You can keep telling yourself it will fade, but it won’t. Not unless you come clean.”

  Evan stared at him, his mouth hanging open. He seemed to notice his slack-jawed look in the reflection from Soren’s sunglasses and wiped the saliva from his mouth.

  “I know what I’m talking about, Evan,” Soren said. “The longer you wait to tell someone what happened, the worse it’ll get.”

  “You can’t help me,” Evan said. “No one can.”

  “Then speak with me anyway,” Soren replied. “You have nothing to lose. At worst, we think you’re a murderer and a liar, or someone who’s gone crazy. So what? The police and the public at large think that already. Have you seen the articles, Evan? They’re calling you a killer. Your friends’ families already hate you. If they could, they’d burn you at the stake. Even if you survive the trial, you’ll be alone, a pariah, an outcast blamed for the deaths of those you loved.”

  Soren could see Annika watching him intently in his peripheral vision. He knew what she was thinking but he couldn’t let it bother him. If John wanted him to find answers here, he would, no matter the price to himself—or anyone else. He had to get Evan to talk, or their investigation was liable to be over before it began.

  Evan was looking at him with
undisguised fear on his face.

  “We can save you,” Soren said. “You’ve already heard what Annika found on you. But it’s not all we’ve discovered. You were camping in a place called Reapoke Forest. It has a much longer history than you know. But to help you, we have to hear what you saw—all of it. We have to know what’s out there.”

  Soren had him even before he finished speaking; he could see it in Evan’s eyes. Once Evan opened his mouth to talk, he didn’t stop for a full ten minutes. He told a story about Samuel Mitchell, lost gems, and a mysterious group of white-robed figures.

  “I don’t know how they moved so quickly,” Evan said, speaking almost more to himself than to them. “Alice and I ran right after we heard Melissa start screaming. But she was dead and hanging in the tree by the time we arrived.”

  When Evan paused for a breath, Soren decided it was time to ask questions.

  “So the scream was the first you knew something was wrong?” Soren asked.

  Evan looked down at the table.

  “Yes,” he said. “Alice and I were making out in the forest and we heard Melissa. Before that, everything was normal.”

  Soren cocked his head to the side and watched Evan drum his fingers on the table in front of him. He wasn’t sure why, but he had the feeling that Evan was lying.

  “Are you absolutely positive that was the first sign?” he asked. “There was nothing before that? No noises in the forest? Anything strange?”

  Evan took several moments to think about it.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head emphatically. “The scream was it.”

  Soren let it go. He’d already made significant progress in getting Evan to talk; there was no reason to push it too far.

  “Only one person spoke to you?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Evan said. “The leader. He told me, ‘We are born in sin, we die in sin.’ Then he asked his followers to grab Alice.”