by Hadena James
“What?” I asked, not because I wanted her to repeat herself, but because I needed a minute to think about it.
“Well, Nyleena’s mom couldn’t get pregnant and your dad and I were having good luck with it, so we let them adopt Nyleena. I want you to understand that we got pregnant with the intention of letting them adopt the baby.”
“Does Nyleena know?” I asked.
“No and you are not to tell her, do you understand?” My mother’s warning was understood even over the phone.
“My lips are sealed, but if I get cancer,” I told her.
“Don’t be silly. Be careful,” my mom hung up on me.
“Are you ok?” Xavier asked.
“What’s with that question?” I scowled.
“I’m going to take that as a no. Do you need a minute?” Xavier continued.
“Why would I need a minute? My cousin is really my sister, but only by genetics. She’s my best friend by choice. It’s a little bit of a shock, but it isn’t life altering. Now, how the hell I’m going to keep my promise to my mother not to tell her, is another story. I can’t keep a secret. It is practically impossible for me to keep a secret unless it benefits me in some way and this doesn’t.”
“When you put it that way, it makes you sound like a bad person and a bad friend.” Gabriel informed me.
“I’m not a good person and I would seriously question anyone that said I was a good friend.”
“You’re not a good person in the normal sense of the word,” Gabriel told me. “But that just means you’re a good person in a different way. You are a great friend, I don’t know many people who would actually kill or die for their friends. So, you can’t keep a secret, that doesn’t make you the worst friend on the planet, it just makes you a blabber mouth who shouldn’t be told important secrets.” Gabriel thought for a moment. “Especially if that secret involves your best friend or a family member. Nyleena is double screwed.”
“Maybe Nina will tell her,” I said.
“Really?” John looked at me.
“Then it won’t be my fault she found out and I won’t break the promise I just made to my mother. It’s a win-win.”
“Don’t you think that it will bother Nyleena?” John asked.
“Baby swapping isn’t that uncommon,” Xavier told him. “Especially in the days before fertility treatments like in-vitro fertilization. It was common for a large family to let a cousin or sibling who couldn’t have children to adopt infants, newborns, and even young children. I admit, it wasn’t as common in the 1960’s, but it still happened. Which brings me to my next question, was August adopted?”
“Not that I know of.”
“How close of a cousin is he to you and Nyleena?” Xavier continued.
“First cousin, once removed. He was Gertrude’s ‘miracle baby,’ she wasn’t supposed to be able to get pregnant. Why?”
“Because if August really is your first cousin, once removed, he should share about six percent of his DNA with you and Nyleena.” Xavier told me.
“Is that why you’re poking around with Nyleena’s DNA? How’d you even get her DNA?” I asked.
“Standard operating procedure for anyone involved with serial killer cases regularly. You, me, Gabriel, Nyleena, Malachi’s reclusive uncle that’s a judge, we all have our DNA on file in case it’s needed to identify our bodies.” Xavier informed me.
“Oh, well,” I shrugged. “So how much DNA do August and I share?”
“Zero. There isn’t even an accidental gene overlay. There is absolutely no chance that you and Nyleena are related to this body, not even seventh cousins twice removed.”
“Then the old witch isn’t my great-aunt?” I asked. That would mean Nina wasn’t either. She and Gertrude were twins.
“That’s my guess at this moment,” Xavier said.
“How fast can you sequence Nina’s DNA?” I asked.
“Why?”
“Well, Nina and Gertrude are twins. They used to be identical, but age has changed them, a lot. One aged a whole lot better than the other. If you sequence Nina’s DNA, you’ll have Gertrude’s DNA.”
“Nina’s DNA would be on file with the hospital. I’ll need her to sign a release, but it’s already been sequenced for her cancer treatments,” Xavier told me.
“Great, I’ll go get her consent and get the release signed.” I left the room.
Twenty-Seven
We all stared at Nina’s DNA sequence, even Nina. She and I shared several DNA markers. There was no doubt that she was my aunt. She assured us that August was indeed Gertrude’s biological son. This left a huge question: who was the man found in the rafters and how had my family substituted a DNA sample from the unknown victim?
At least we knew August was indeed alive. We didn’t know where at, but we had a pretty good idea of where to start. I was looking forward to handcuffing my great-aunt. If I was being entirely honest, I was really looking forward to kicking her door in and drawing my Taser on her too. I might not need the Taser, but it would feel good just to have it out and pointed at her.
Nyleena collected Nina while we suited up for the raid on the house of my other great-aunt. My tactical gear was weighed down by the arsenal I was convinced I needed. I was prepared for everything, including jaguar attacks, invasions by extraterrestrials, and crazed great-aunts.
“Don’t get trigger happy,” Gabriel said as we exited the SUV. I decided not to take it as a comment directed at me specifically. Detective Russell was in an unmarked car, following us. There was also a squad car with two uniformed officers behind him.
Gabriel stood to the side of the door as he knocked gruffly on it. He announced himself, adding that we were coming in and then waited a few seconds. There were noises inside, but they weren’t getting closer to the door.
Normally, Lucas kicked in the door and I went in first, gun drawn, ready for any horrors that might present themselves. Lucas’s absence was being felt more and more. Instead, I dropped into my normal position and Gabriel took position at the door. His foot landed squarely near the handle. The door groaned and creaked, but didn’t give. I shook my head. His second kick did a better job and the door actually gave a little in the frame.
“Good thing they weren’t planning on shooting you,” Xavier commented. I agreed. The third kick freed the door of the jamb and it swung haphazardly on its hinges into the foyer.
The house was old. It had been in the family for a long time. Gertrude and her husband Lee had lived in it for as long as I could remember. Nina had once lived down the road in another old farm house that had been acquired by the Clachans and passed down through the generations. It was now occupied by a cousin of ours, since she didn’t have any children.
Lee sat in the living room. My great-aunt was old. But Lee had probably ridden wooly mammoths to school. He sat in a recliner, his small body enveloped by the La-Z-Boy. An oxygen tank sat on the ground, the wires running up to his face. Liver spots darkened his aging, bald scalp. While he had technically married a Clachan, Gertrude had retained her maiden name and passed it down to August.
“Where is August?” Gabriel asked Lee.
“He’s dead,” Lee answered between puffs on the oxygen mask.
“He’s not dead, we ran the DNA from the body found at the site. The sample and the body carried no alleles in common with Nina Clachan.” Xavier told him. “This can only mean that the dead body and the sample did not come from August and that he is very much alive.”
“He’s dead I tell ya,” Lee protested.
“Joe Clachan is telling a different story. He says Gertrude faked August’s death. He also says that the jaguars were for August’s private collection.” Gabriel stepped towards the oxygen tank. “How long do you think you’ll live in prison? A year? Six months? We can make sure that doesn’t happen, Lee. You need to be smart about this. If you screw with us, I will personally make sure that you get a hefty prison sentence in one of the worst federal prisons available.”
“Ok, you don’t want to talk about August.” I interrupted. “Where’s Gertrude? Did she abandon you to the mercy of the SCTU?” This seemed to shake Lee just a little. His papery skin grew a shade lighter, making his veins more apparent and the liver spots darker. A small tremble ran through his hands. I watched the older man for another few moments. “Holy hell, she’s on the premises and she’s warning August that we’re here. She knows. She knows all about it.”
“Gertrude wouldn’t help a killer,” Lee protested.
“Oh please, she helped my grandfather and this is her only son. She’d go to the ends of the earth and back to help him,” I scoffed, already heading for the back door.
Outside there was a large pasture. In times past, it had been used to graze cattle. A broken down hog pen sat to one side, still carrying the faint odor of the previous occupants, despite the cold air or lack of animal life. Closer to the house was a chicken coop, also vacant and in need of repairs.
Behind the pasture was woods. Thick, dense woods, where trees grew close enough to make midday dim and shadows dark and scary. I couldn’t remember how wide the tract of trees was, only that as a child, there had been a pathway through them. My gaze searched for the path and found it, but only just. Weeds and hearty grasses were trying to reclaim it. The path led to another Clachan farm. It had been used to take livestock back and forth between the two family ranches.
I began to follow the path. The snow was almost completely melted, but the ground was still too hard to leave shoe imprints. Footfalls caught my attention and I whirled around, Taser drawn and pointed at Xavier.
“Gabriel and John are staying at the house. What’s this?” He nodded towards the overgrown path.
“A smuggler’s path,” I sneered. “The family used to exchange livestock using this path. The ranch on the other side raised Red Angus. This one raised Murray Greys.”
“You might as well be speaking Greek,” Xavier told me.
“A steak from a Red Angus is worth a whole lot more than one from a Murray Grey. People would buy cattle from one ranch, thinking they were buying a Red Angus and paying top dollar for it, but when it came time for the butchering, they’d end up with a Murray Grey. Most people can’t tell the difference once the meat is cut, so they got away with it for a long time. Then most people started buying their meat at a store and well, there wasn’t much call for the swap. Most of the beef now is sold directly to butcher shops that do their own slaughtering and they know what the cow looks like when it comes into the slaughter house. They wouldn’t be paying Red Angus prices for Murray Greys.”
“I didn’t realize you knew that much about cattle ranching.”
“I didn’t grow up on the farm, but it was hard to avoid it completely. If you ever want to buy a side of beef or a whole hog, I’m the person to take with you. Some breeds can be identified after the butchering by smell, appearance, even the size of the meat cuts.”
“I will keep that in mind,” Xavier nodded once. We’d walked a few hundred yards and were at the cusp of the woods. Xavier drew his gun. I swapped the Taser for a more lethal weapon and put one of the Berettas in my hands. “What’s back here?”
“As far as I remember, nothing. It’s a straight line to the other farm. I don’t remember how wide the tree break is though. It could be a few hundred yards or it could be a mile.”
“Side by side, sweep the trees as we move,” Xavier told me. I did as he said, taking position at his shoulder. My eyes scanned the trees, alert for movement and color variations.
It was quiet in the trees. Being January meant very little wildlife was actively roaming the hidden recesses. A few birds took flight from trees as we moved, but otherwise, nothing seemed alive. My ears strained to hear noises to the point that my heartbeat was audible.
The trees were barren for the winter, their leaves strewn about the ground. The few evergreens looked sickly from the successive years of drought. Lifeless bushes and naked vines were the only other things growing in the semi-darkness. It hadn’t been thinned in as long as I could remember. In my youth, it had seemed like a magical wilderness. Now, it looked like a sad, neglected tree break in need of some care.
Light appeared in front of us. We exited the woods as easily as we had entered them. It had been about half a mile. My feet were cold. My nose was starting to run. I shivered. We’d found nothing in the tree break.
However, we stared at a different house now. This one was older. The years had not been kind. I shivered again, but not from cold.
“What’s wrong?” Xavier asked.
“If there was ever a haunted house, that’s it,” I pointed towards the clapboard hulk. Large windows stared back at us. Aside from being vacant for decades, it was intact. No one had vandalized it.
“I didn’t think you believed in ghosts,” Xavier told me.
“I don’t,” I answered. “But around the turn of the century, two women were mutilated inside that house. In the 1960’s, my grandmother was butchered there. Her entrails were used to decorate the walls. They found her breasts nailed to a floor in the kitchen. Her uterus had been removed and put on the fireplace mantel. Her heart was found sitting on the railing of the front porch. Her head was in the basement, sitting on top of freshly canned green beans. Her kidneys were in a bathroom. Her liver on the bed in the master bedroom and her lungs on the roof, stuck to the gable, like a weathervane.”
“Wow,” Xavier cocked his head, as if looking at the house in a different way.
“Yeah, but it didn’t stop there. Her limbs and torso were cut into pieces and scattered along the driveway. My grandfather really did butcher my grandmother, all of her internal bits were removed. Her external parts were all dismembered at the joints. He even removed her ears and her brain.”
“What did your grandfather do for a living?” Xavier asked.
“After being discharged from the military, he was a rancher. He raised cattle and hogs. Oddly, I’ve been told that when the women got together to kill and clean fowl for dinners, it would make him feel faint. He’d have to excuse himself. There’s a famous story about him fainting after one of his hogs got loose and killed the family dog.”
“But you believe he could have butchered your grandmother?”
“He couldn’t kill an animal, but humans were a different story,” I looked at Xavier, unwilling to turn my back on the house of horrors. “My grandmother may have been butchered, but he got into a fight with a buyer once and hit him in the head with a hammer. That incident didn’t seem to faze him. The man didn’t die and my grandfather spent a week in jail and paid a fine.”
“How do you know that?” Xavier asked.
“Because my family gossips amongst themselves, they just don’t like outsiders to know their secrets.” I shivered once more and turned away from the house.
“August could be there,” Xavier pointed out.
“He’s not,” I answered. “No one is there. The entire family thinks it’s haunted. The driveway was gated over after the police got stuck with their investigation into my grandparents. When I was a kid, a few locals snuck onto the property, but they didn’t stay more than an hour. People didn’t realize that the house had never been cleaned. The body parts were removed, but the blood is still in there. It gives a very clear picture of what happened. I’ve never seen it, but I’ve heard the stories. It’s gruesome.”
“We should check it, just in case.” Xavier said.
“Knock yourself out. I’ll stand on the porch,” I turned back around and stomped towards the house.
Twenty-Eight
Xavier didn’t hesitate to enter. Once through the front door, his footsteps stopped after only a few feet. I stared at the forest that was beginning to grow in front of the house. It obscured my view of the road.
“You’re right,” Xavier came back out a few moments later. “Nobody would live there.”
“Told you,” I said.
“You’ve never been inside?” Xavier asked.
> “No.”
“You should step inside, just once. Maybe take some pictures.”
“No.”
“It might exercise some demons from your past.”
“No.”
“Ace,” Xavier stopped. “Ace, whatever you’ve heard, the reality is worse. You’d have to see it to believe it.”
This peeked my curiosity. My feet moved without input from my brain. The door gave a small squeak as it opened. Like Xavier, I took a few steps inside and stopped.
If you didn’t work with dried blood or blood stains, you would have thought it was age damage. I knew better. Splatter was thrown up all the walls and slung across the ceiling. A large, dark stain had ruined the hardwood floor. At first, it seemed too large to be a blood stain, but as my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting and grim surroundings, I could make out where it had run across the floor in rivulets and where it had congealed in large quantities.
Pictures still hung on the walls. An old fashioned television set was placed on a piece of handcrafted furniture. The coffee table had a cup and four books on it. Blood had splashed across the exposed book covers. But there was no blood on the cup, a smear was visible under the saucer. The sofa was also clear of blood spatter. A few drops had been smeared across the screen of the TV. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. As her body had gotten cold, the killer had wiped off the screen and watched TV while drinking a cup of coffee.
Looking closer, there were faded shoe prints in the blood. They led to different areas of the house, then came back into the living room, disappearing in the large pooled stain. However, they didn’t lead to the sofa. The killer had butchered her, spread her body parts throughout the house and yard, then cleaned up, sat on the sofa and had a cup of coffee while watching TV.
Clearly, it had been premeditated. In order for the sofa to remain free of blood, it would have to have been covered with something heavy, like a tarp. It made me think that the reason for the final dismemberments had simply been to get the body out of the house. Everything else had been carefully placed in different rooms, but her body had been littered along the driveway.
