Touched by Death

by Dale Mayer

  ***

  Dane stood in front of the kitchen door to John and Tasha's house. He really didn't want to go inside. Physical exhaustion pulled at him, the kind he hadn't experienced since his football-playing days. Carrying Dr. Mike down had been hard work.

  Now he had to deal with John.

  He poked his head into the kitchen. "John? I'm back. I'm going to wash up. See you in a few minutes." Closing the door, he headed to his small cabin for a quick wash and clean clothes. His shoulders ached.

  Damn.

  He wanted to go home. He needed to stay – but he didn't want to be here anymore.

  Except for Jade. If she stayed then he wanted to stay for a little while longer, for her. It could take that long to settle his affairs here anyway. And then he wanted to return to his old life – in Seattle. His house, his comforts. His home.

  But he didn't want to return to it empty. Again his thoughts jumped to Jade. He was determined to explore a relationship with her. And if it worked out…

  He was almost done here. He was only here for his brother. He knew it; his brother knew it and neither one voiced it. He'd stay as long as John needed him. An idea flitted around in his head. Maybe he could convince John to return to Seattle with him? At this time, he couldn't see John leaving Tasha but if there was no improvement over the next month then maybe...

  John had some hard decisions ahead. Dane frowned. How was this going to play out? John hadn't been able to make the easy decisions. How was he going to make the hard ones?

  And had anyone seen Peppe? Or was he still missing?

  And what the hell are we going to do about that if he is?

  And what had happened to Dr. Mike? Dane hoped he'd be fine. The injuries hadn't looked too severe. Then look at Emile's; that hadn't looked bad either. He hoped the good doctor had regained consciousness by now.

  That one really bothered him. As did the thought of someone breaking into the hotel bedrooms. Who and why would someone want to tie Dr. Mike up then abandon him in a cave? Was someone targeting the team? Or was some 'crazy' out there wandering around and attacking people and the hotel break-in an isolated incident. Given the poverty here, that was most likely.

  That the attack on Dr. Mike could have been Emile or Peppe hadn't passed him by. That Emile had been injured and in the hospital looked bad, pointed to his guilt because no one came back for Dr. Mike. Maybe it was Emile. That certainly reinforced that he was likely the culprit. Dane just couldn't imagine why Emile would do something like this though and he didn't know how to broach that possibility with John either.

  Something had shifted – Dane didn't get it. His life had been calm and quiet before the mortuary team arrived. Now it was almost as if the grave being opened had poisoned everything and everyone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Hungry, tired and now showered, all team members arrived for dinner on time. Except Bruce, who'd stayed at the hospital with Dr. Mike.

  Jade walked in as the first plates came out of the kitchen.

  Her stomach growled as the smells of delicious food reached her nose. She groaned and grabbed her chair. "Or Lord, thank you for this food. I am so hungry."

  "When are you not hungry?" Stephen grinned and passed her the first bowl. "Everyone has taken some of this dish, so help yourself."

  She grabbed the bowl. Fish. She took several large pieces and motioned for the next dish to be passed her way. Finally, with much joking, all of them ended up with full plates.

  "By the way, I sent an email to Tony, updating him on Dr. Mike's rescue and current condition." Meg chuckled at the horrified looks shot her way. "Maybe now we won't have to worry about training Dr. Mike's replacement."

  Everyone groaned. "That's not funny."

  Meg piped up. "Speaking of which, Tony wants us to increase our productivity."

  Outrage rippled through the room.

  "Increase?" Stephen barely managed to get the word out through his stuffed mouth.

  Forking up another bite, Meg said, "He's hoping we can reduce our time here by a week or two?"

  "Really?" Jade didn't think that would be possible...unless the right DNA results came back soon.

  Susan, looking better after a long nap, asked, "What's the rush?"

  Meg shrugged. "I don't know. He didn't say."

  Just then Bruce walked in. A chorus of questions filled the air. Holding up his hand he ticked off on his fingers as he gave information. "Dr. Mike is fine. Has a sprained ankle. They're keeping him overnight for observation. They aren't expecting any problems. He did regain consciousness but was asleep again by the time I was allowed in to speak to him…so no, we don't know what happened to him. He did say Emile's and Peppe's names."

  Jade stared at him. "I don't know what possible motive either of them would have to hurt Dr. Mike and now that Emile's dead, we might never know. Depends if we can get any answers from his father."

  Bruce filled his plate then answered questions as he ate. He pushed his empty plate off to one side and faced the group. "And there is one other thing we need to discuss."

  Jade knew what it was. She'd been waiting for it. She refilled her plate, stuck her tongue out at Stephen for laughing at her and waited for Bruce to speak.

  "I stopped in at the police station to update them on Dr. Mike. They weren't thrilled, obviously. However, the authorities have agreed to look into the skeletons with the chains..."

  "Yeah!" Cheers erupted around the table.

  Jade waited. This still didn't feel like a cheering moment. She studied Bruce's face. "But?"

  "Only if we do the processing and turn everything over to them."

  She put her fork down. "We already agreed that we'd help out in our own free time to make sure that happened." She frowned and looked at Meg and Stephen for affirmation. "Or was I wrong?"

  "No, that's correct."

  She turned back to Bruce, "So what's the problem?"

  "The problem is that Tony doesn't want us doing the work, doesn't want the company name associated in any way with this mess. He also doesn't want any of the remains to be handed over to them until we have found the remains we're looking for and have removed them."

  "You mean, he's afraid that if a crime has been committed, then it would reflect badly on the company or interfere with our ability to complete the job? Jade picked up her fork again and continued to eat. How typical.

  Bruce sighed. "He's worried that even if we do locate our family members the authorities here won't release the remains we're wanting to ship to the States. That's a possibility. And I can't fault Tony for his logic. We've gotten slightly off on a tangent and he's just trying to rein us back in."

  "Except we had no idea what we'd find in that grave."

  Bruce picked up his coffee cup. "No, of course not. Our loyalty has to remain with Tony, yet I can't walk away from those other victims either."

  "There's only so much we can do." Meg sipped her coffee. "We've taken loads of pictures and we've dug up the remains and processed them to the extent we're able."

  Stephen nodded. "So then there is no big deal. We can turn our findings, and the remains in question, over to the authorities and carry on."

  A strange look crossed Bruce's face.

  Jade caught it and wondered. Then the missing piece clicked. "You mean, that might work, unless one of those women with the chains, like the most recent one, happens to be the adult female we're looking for?"

  ***

  Dane pushed the kitchen door open and wandered inside. "John? You in here?" He walked through the kitchen and into the living room in case his brother left him a note. He kept his gaze off the creepy dolls. Why the hell hadn't his brother taken that shit down?

  "John?" He poked his head inside the only bedroom in the tiny house.

  What the hell? The bedroom was a mess. Incense bowls filled the top of the
dresser and more little creepy dolls covered the nightstand. He didn't know what had gone through Tasha's mind these last few days and weeks, but it looked like the slide had been in progress for a while.

  It was John who worried him now. How could all this have gone unnoticed and why didn't he do something about this? Then he remembered his brother's inability to make decisions...

  Where the hell was he? He pulled out his phone and called him yet again. Was this the fifth time? Maybe John had gone into town to see Tasha? Then why the hell wasn't he answering the phone?

  "Hello."

  Dane ran a tired hand over his damp hair at the weary sound of his brother's voice. "John! I've been looking for you. Trying to reach you."

  Sounding like he'd hit the last of his reserves, John said, "Emile didn't make it."

  Dane closed his eyes briefly. Shit. "I heard. I'm sorry. I'd hoped he'd pull through."

  "Yeah...well he died around noon. I came down as soon as I got the message." A yawn, came through the phone. "Ah hell, Dane. Life pretty much sucks right now."

  Dane agreed, yet stayed quiet, not wanting to depress his brother any further. Wincing against the answer to come, Dane asked hesitantly, "And Tasha? Any change there?"

  "No improvement. They've moved her to the psyche ward."

  "What? Already? Surely she hasn't improved physically enough for that move, has she?"

  "I don't know. Something about needing round the clock care and no beds. The psyche ward isn't all that thrilled to have her either. I don't know where she belongs. I want her home with me, only she doesn't see me, hear me... She doesn't seem to know I'm even there."

  "Aw, hell." Dane couldn't think of anything else to say. "I'm sorry, man."

  "Yeah. Me too. The thing is, no one can tell me if she's improving, going to improve or take a long slide down. She's my wife. For better or for worse. And never did I consider this could happen." He sighed. "And I didn't mean that in a bad way. She's my wife. I love her. I want her home where she belongs. I know she lost the baby and that's going to be hard on her...on us, but we can make more babies." His voice caught on a sob. "I can't live without her. I don't want to."

  "You can if you have to. I know this is hard. There has been enough hurt and suffering; I don't want to lose you, too."

  "I'm not dying. Nor am I suicidal. I do wonder why God hates me so much though."

  Dane winced and let his brother ramble. "I don't think He hates you."

  "He sure as hell doesn't love me."

  In an effort to change the subject, Dane asked, "When are you coming home?"

  "Soon. I'm just driving around. I had to get out for a bit."

  "Understood. Give yourself time."

  "So why is it, I don't feel like I have any time?" Bitterness slipped across the phone line.

  Dane frowned. He didn't like the way this was going. "Have you heard or seen anything of Peppe?"

  "No. I don't know where the old bugger has gone. Don't care much, at this point, either… Silence. What could Dane say?

  "I know I'm being a bit of a bastard yet I can't help it," John continued. "I'm going to pick up something for dinner and come home. Are you going to be there?"

  "Yeah, I'm beat. Been hiking all day, looking for one of Jade's coworkers. Make it dinner for three. I'm starved."

  "On my way."

  Dane hung up and smiled. "Now that sounds better." He stood in the middle of the living room talking to himself, uncertain what to do. Tasha's stuff filled the house. He couldn't begin to get inside of Tasha's head; even worse, he now understood her mind had broken. His brother would be back in about fifteen minutes. What could he do to help John? The poor guy had been sleeping on the couch for a month now. Not that they'd spoken about it. Should he clean out the bedroom for his brother? Maybe through that process he'd find a clue to help them understand her behavior.

  Not bloody likely.

  The smelly bedroom made his skin crawl.

  He turned on the overhead light and winced. The darkness had hidden the extent of the mess. There wasn't a spot on the floor to be seen. He couldn't believe she owned that many clothes. She'd only worn a couple of outfits.

  He returned to the kitchen and grabbed several garbage bags. Then he walked out to his truck and put on his work gloves. Taking a deep breath, he started bagging the mess on the floor. There was no easy way to do it so he just picked and shoved until the first bag was full then grabbed a second one. The third one he stuffed with bedding. He hauled the bags to the porch. Returning to the room, he grabbed a broom, opened a window and finished cleaning. He hadn't found anything but filth.

  He stopped beside the first of two small tables on either side of the bed – each had a drawer. Dane was tempted to open it. But this was his brother's bedroom. He shouldn't be poking his nose anywhere here.

  He tried, but couldn't turn away.

  Shit. Shit. Okay. Just one quick look. The first table was almost empty. On top were a small clock and a lamp. Nothing else. The other one had to be Tasha's and it was different. The drawer was full of small bags of herbs, maybe potions of some sort. Or drugs? He winced. That might explain her behavior. Not that he was an expert. It wouldn't explain the loss of the baby – then like the doctor had said, sometimes losses like that just happened.

  Did John need to know the details? The whys? Would it be easier? Help him with his recovery?

  Headlights shone through the living room window. John was home.

  Great. Would he appreciate what Dane had done or be devastated by the intrusion? Only time would tell.

  He walked outside to meet his brother.

  ***

  He stood in his son's cabin – originally built decades ago for the foreman on the farm, then for guests as a way to make extra money, before his son grew into a man. Emile had moved in when Tasha had gotten herself married.

  And Emile wasn't here. He hadn't come home.

  The ambulance had taken him and the night had swallowed him.

  Peppe ran a shaky hand through his thinning hair. His world consisted of slices of memories that even when pieced together made no sense. He'd been in the main house several times since the ambulance had taken his kids away. Since then there'd been no sign of them. No sign of Tasha. No sign of Emile.

  Instead the interloper had moved in. John's brother. He'd cleaned out Tasha's stuff – bags full left on the porch like garbage. Her things weren't garbage. His little girl wasn't garbage – not like some women.

  Someone was going to pay for this. And soon.

  He didn't see John being responsible. He'd always been good to Tasha. To Emile. To him. Not that he'd seen him much.

  Still, he'd been there for a while now. John's brother on the other hand... and that group he hung around with. At the grave, he'd seen Dane sniffing around that little blonde who worked at the trailers.

  Someone had to pay for this intrusion into their lives and their homes. This was his place. He wanted his son and daughter back. Maybe he could force them to bring the kids home? Hmmm. The brother? The grave team? He smiled grimly. Or one of the women who were connected to both?

  Perfect.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Morning came too early. Jade groaned and rolled over to bury her face in the pillow. She did not want to be awake this early on a Sunday. Weekends were supposed to be for fun and rest... Still, they'd found Dr. Mike and the word was his condition was improving.

  She smiled into the pillow. Today was a whole new day. Sitting up, she grinned at the sunshine peeking through her curtains. Another nice day then – a day to stay home, kick around and take it easy. Maybe hit the beach like she'd promised herself. She'd had enough drama for a lifetime.

  Her hotel phone rang. She picked it up. Her brother, Duncan. A happy sigh wafted through her. It was so nice to have him call. "Hey. What's happening?"
/>   "That's why I called. How are things over there?"

  She filled him on the last few days and wasn't surprised at his exclamations.

  "Holy crap. Are you nuts! You were supposed to go over there to recover…to get back to normal. Not to experience more stress."

  She kicked back her covers and leaned back against her headboard. "You're right and I'd be happy to have missed this. But today, after finding Dr. Mike last night, things are looking much better."

  "Well, is everything else okay now?"

  She told him about Tony's visit and the progress on the site, then remembered to ask him about his life back in Seattle. After they said their good-byes Jade got up and took a shower.

  Breakfast was a quiet calm affair, in that she was alone in the dining room. She ordered a big meal and took it to the outside patio to sit in the sunshine. It was still early and the sun already had enough heat that she chose to sit by the palm trees in a shaded spot. She took her time and relaxed. She was going nowhere today.

  A sleepy Meg stumbled out onto the patio to join her.

  "I didn't expect to see you here so early." Jade smirked at the disgruntled look on Meg's face.

  Meg yawned widely. "I don't want to be here either. I want to be in bed, sleeping. As that's apparently not an option, here I am." Meg carefully put her plate and cup on the table. "If there were any justice, we'd be able to recoup all those lost hours of worrying by sleeping late." Meg pulled a chair over and sat down. "My face feels like sandpaper was scraped over it while I slept."

  "I have some nice cream in my room if you'd like to try some." Jade reached for her last piece of toast and spread jam over it. "Have you ordered your breakfast yet?"

  "Yes. I'm just having French toast." She crossed her arms on the table and rested her head on them. With her eyes closed she looked ready to drop back off to sleep.

  Jade brightened. "I forgot about that option. I could use some, too."