Epistle of the Damned

by M. Lee Mendelson

  Frank and Cynthia looked at each other, then Henry and Rebecca came rushing into the waiting area.

  Frank hastily said, “Um, I’ll call Nancy for you. You guys talk.”

  Later that night after catching the red eye out of Louisville, Nancy arrived in Miami.

  When she got to the hospital, she saw Meredith and everyone else in the waiting area. Nancy told everyone to go get cleaned up and get some rest, and that she would stay there that night. She promised to call immediately if anything changed. Meredith was still in her bikini, but did not want to leave.

  Nancy reassured her, “Honey, you go get some rest. Get yourself dressed. I’ll be here. Call me if you can’t sleep. You can come first thing in the morning and relieve me.”

  Weeping, Meredith confessed to Nancy, “I’m so sorry, Nancy. This is all my fault.”

  Nancy scolded her saying, “Nonsense! This is not your fault. If he didn’t come after you, you might not be here and I couldn’t stand the idea of losing my precious daughter-in-law. Now, go on sweetie, go get some rest and put some clothes on. You’re driving the men crazy around here.”

  Meredith left, and got dressed at the hotel. Within the hour, she returned and stayed up with Nancy for the rest of the night.

  During the next three days, everyone took rotating shifts standing by, but Meredith refused to leave the hospital again. The staff, knowing she was on her honeymoon, took pity on her and allowed her to shower in the nurse’s lounge after her parents would bring fresh clothes. Frank also stayed the whole time in the waiting room with Meredith, but the staff did not have the same compassion for him. He would sneak out only for a quick shower at his hotel, then return immediately.

  Three days later, Mike woke up. Meredith was, of course, by his side. She called everyone to tell them. Frank was still in the waiting room and the nurse went in to tell him.

  “Hey, Merry. Well, douche bag, thanks for scaring the shit out of me again! I’m glad to see you’re back among the living.”

  Mike smiled, raised his right hand and shot Frank a bird. He was having a hard time talking since having the tube removed from his trachea. He was breathing on his own now, but had developed a respiratory infection and would have to remain in ICU for another week.

  When Mike was finally transferred to a private room on the fourth floor, Frank came by to see him.

  “Hey, douche bag. This is getting kind of old, you know what I mean? I don’t want to be visiting you in the hospital again, you got it?”

  Smiling, Mike said, “Got it!”

  “I love you, bro. I’m heading home today. I got a big meeting tomorrow in Des Moines. I’ll call you later.”

  In a rare solemn moment between the two, Mike said, “Thank you for everything, Frank. Thank you for being there for Meredith and Nancy. She told me how fast you got here.”

  “I’d do anything for you, ya prick. You know that.”

  “Ditto, pal. So best friend, now that I know you drove Cynthia to the airport yesterday, are you gonna tell me what’s going on between you two or what?”

  Frank, with a mysterious grin said, “Well, buddy, I gotta be going.”

  Mike said, “Frank?”

  Frank sauntered over to Mike and the lumbering giant bent down and gave Mike a hug saying, “Love ya, pal.”

  “Frank? Frank! Don’t you leave here without telling me something, anything? FRANK!?”

  Frank stopped at the doorway, looked back, smiled and winked, then shrugged his shoulders and walked away whistling down the hallway.

  “Frank! Frank!!” Frank didn’t come back. From down the hallway, he heard, “See ya later, douche!”

  Mike sat in his bed laughing to himself. “That big goon has fallen hard for her.”

  Meredith came by to visit a couple hours after Frank left.

  Mike said, “I’m so sorry about all of this, sweetheart. I sure made a mess of things.”

  Meredith gently put her delicate fingers on his lips and said, “Shhh . . . stop it. I panicked out there and caused all this. This is completely my fault. I’m so sorry, my darling. I grew up here in Florida and have spent countless hours in the ocean. I knew about rip currents and how to get out of them, but I never experienced it before and I just panicked. It really felt like someone was pulling me under though, and that was the most terrifying thing of all. I’m just glad you’re okay. You saved my life. You’re my hero! I cherish you.”

  Mike looked at her lovingly and told her, “We’ll just agree to disagree. It was no one’s fault, just bad luck. It was that damn rip current. I’m just glad you’re okay, baby. I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you, and I would have died trying to save you. I love you so much.”

  Meredith said, “And I love you. We’ll go on our honeymoon another time. Frank got his money back and said he’ll reschedule the trip when we’re ready.”

  “Yeah, he came by to see me this morning before his flight left. Some honeymoon, huh?”

  “Someday when we’re telling our grandkids about this, we’ll look back and laugh, I’m sure.”

  Mike said, “Grandkids? Whoa, there little lady. Don’t you think we should start our family first?”

  “Michael Carson, I plan on living a very long and happy life together, provided you don’t go drowning on me.”

  Mike agreed, “Okay boss, deal!”

  After two weeks in the hospital, Mike was discharged.

  Mike and Meredith returned to Boca Grande Shores, along with Henry and Rebecca. When the four pulled into town, Henry suggested that they go out to dinner. Henry said, “Let’s go to Taureau’s, my treat. We can celebrate your recovery and a safe return home.”

  At dinner, Henry proposed a toast. “To the newlyweds. For better or worse, may the worse part be behind you.”

  Mike, Meredith and Rebecca all raised their glasses in agreement.

  “Thank you, Pop,” Mike said, “for everything.”

  Henry pulled Mike aside to talk to him privately. “Son, I can never repay you for saving my little girl. The emergency room doctor told me what you did and how you ended up there. I know you’re going to take good care of her.”

  He hugged Mike and told him, “The worst is past you now, I’m sure of it. I foresee nothing but good things from here on out for you two.”

  A week after returning home, Mike went back to work, confident the worst really was behind them.

  THE END OF THE BEGINNING

  O n the scene of a grisly suicide, Mike and his SWAT team partner, Bill, had just finished clearing the second floor of the residence when Mike thought he heard a sound.

  As Mike explained to everyone that he thought he’d heard a man’s voice, the entire team was startled by the unexpected sound of a door slamming from upstairs.

  “What the hell, Mike? I thought you said the upstairs was clear!”

  Mike, visibly shaken, and baffled by the sound, responded, “It was, Sarge . . . I swear we cleared the entire floor. There’s no way anyone could be up there.”

  “Well, genius, apparently you missed something! Get your ass upstairs and find out what the fuck is going on! Pete and Steve, go up there with them!”

  Mike, Bill and the other two team members hurried up the stairs to investigate.

  As the four heavily armed and intently focused deputies ascended the stairs, Mike took the lead. He clamored, “SHERIFF’S OFFICE! ANYONE UPSTAIRS IDENTIFY YOURSELF. COME OUT

  WITH YOUR HANDS UP!”

  No response.

  At the top of the stairs, Mike said, “Pete, you and Steve stand by here and watch that end of the hall. Bill and I will sweep the other end again.”

  Mike and Bill proceeded to the opposite end of the hall first.

  “Bill, we’ll go in together, check?”

  “Roger that, brother.”

  Mike shouted through the closed door, “ANYONE IN THE ROOM, COME OUT OR WE’RE COMING IN!”

  Again, he didn’t hear a sound. They entered the master bedroom
. Both men searched every crevice of the room, under the bed, in the closets, in the shower—anywhere that someone could be hiding. They repeated this in the next three rooms. All was clear. The two men contacted Pete and Steve, who were still holding their positions at the top of the stairs.

  Mike said, “Okay, we got nothing on this end. You guys want to check the other side?”

  Pete readily accepted, “That’s a big ten four. We got it!”

  Mike replied, “Watch your ass. We had nothing on this end.”

  Pete and Steve searched the remaining three rooms on the opposite end of the hall. When they returned, Pete said, “We got nothing, Mike. What the hell was that?”

  “Maybe the wind blew the door shut?”

  “I didn’t feel no wind, Mike.”

  Mike said, “I know, brother, but I ain’t got no other explanation.”

  Suddenly, Mike thought he heard a voice coming from the attic.

  It sounded like a man’s voice lamenting in terror.

  “SHHHH! Did you guys hear that?”

  None of the other three had heard anything.

  “It sounded like it came from the attic.” At the end of the hallway was a pull-down attic ladder.

  “C’mon, let’s check the attic.”

  As Mike grabbed the cord to pull down the ladder, the other three were pointing their automatic machine guns toward the opening. Mike opened the attic and hollered, “ANYONE IN THE ATTIC, IDENTIFY YOURSELF. COME OUT NOW, OR WE’RE

  COMING IN AFTER YOU!”

  No response.

  The ladder was now extended, and Mike flipped the switch on the wall which illuminated the once dark attic. Mike climbed the ladder halfway and stopped. From his pocket, he pulled out a mirror on an extendable stick. From his vantage point he could safely scan the attic to look for anyone hiding up there. “It looks clear. I’m going up.”

  “Careful, Mike!” Pete warned.

  Once in the attic, Mike could stand upright. His pulse was racing and he quickly scanned the attic with the flashlight attached to his machine gun. He checked all the dark areas that the attic lights could not penetrate. He saw a stack of boxes at the north end of the attic. His senses were on high alert. He listened intently for any unusual noises. It was quiet though, except for the sound of his own heartbeat that thundered like the distant drums of a warrior tribe preparing for battle.

  Maybe someone is hiding behind those boxes, he thought.

  Mike approached the boxes cautiously.

  “ANYONE BEHIND THE BOXES, IDENTIFY YOURSELF!”

  Again, no response.

  Mike walked around the boxes and lit up the dark space. No one was there but he did find collection of what appeared to be occult ritual items. There were golden candlesticks with black candles melted from the attic heat, a black shroud crumpled up in the corner with a shiny object reflecting his rifle light back to him from underneath. He lifted up the shroud, revealing a bull’s horn blade. He had seen this before. A creepy feeling swept over Mike and he quickly dropped the shroud and immediately exited the attic.

  Bill asked, “Well?” as Mike scurried down the ladder.

  “Huh? Oh, it was clear,” he answered, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “Why do you seem so spooked?”

  “I’m good, buddy. Just some strange shit up there, but no people. Let’s get out of here.”

  Mike took up the rear as the three others descended the stairs. As Mike was starting his descent, his blood chilled when he thought he once again heard the sound of a distant scream of a man in anguish.

  He thought to himself, you’re hearing things, Mike. This shit’s creeping you out. Then he swiftly ran down the stairs.

  Downstairs he reported, “Sarge, we searched the entire second floor, including the attic. There was no one upstairs. I can only guess that the wind must have slammed the door. Maybe it happened when we opened the front door.”

  The Sergeant said, “Whatever. As long as it’s clear. C’mon boys, let’s get out of here. This place stinks.”

  The team exited the house and Mike returned to his patrol car to dress down from his heavy SWAT gear. He could see Mrs. Johansen standing on her front porch. She was visibly shaken. Against his better judgment, knowing he would be there for a while, he decided to go and speak to Beatrice to reassure her.

  “Good morning, Beatrice,” Mike said in a reassuring voice. “How are you doing, hon?”

  In a shaky voice, Beatrice responded, “I’ve never been so afraid. That poor girl. I feel so bad for her.”

  Mike told her, “I know what you mean, ma’am. It was a very frightening event, indeed. She’ll be okay. We have her in a safe place now. How are you doing, though?”

  “I’m good now. I’ve seen a lot of things through the years, but never anything like this. I’ve heard stories about that house, but never paid much attention to them.”

  Mike was curious and asked her, “What do you mean? What kind of things have you heard?”

  Beatrice started telling about her girlfriend who told her, “You know, she’s the one I play bridge with at the clubhouse? Well, she told me that after she and her husband Fred—he was an engineer from Detroit—moved in, they were home and heard a similar commotion in the neighborhood. It seems that a young woman who lived there disappeared and no one ever heard from her again. This was all after her parents were tragically killed in a freak accident. But that was so long ago. . .”

  Mike knew that this would take a long time, and he still had a mountain of paperwork to finish before he could ever think about going home.

  “Well Mrs. Johansen, I’m glad you’re okay. I really have to be going. Just so you know, there will be a lot of activity around here for quite some time.”

  “Thank you, officer. You know, I never got your name, dear.”

  ***

  In a quiet office at the Sheriff’s station, a terrified woman sat, still wrapped in the deputy’s jacket, and also wore a pair of jail scrubs that were kept on hand for just such occasions. The woman was curled up on the sofa in the Lieutenant’s office with her knees drawn up to her chest, still in a state of shock. Deputies had gotten her a cup of coffee and were awaiting the arrival of a counselor. They had not determined her identity as of yet.

  When Yvonne Stark, an on-call psychiatrist used by the Sheriff’s Office for Major Crime investigations, arrived, she asked if she could speak to the woman alone. The detectives agreed, and brought her up to speed on what had transpired. They then led her into the office. They informed her that they would be just outside if she needed anything.

  Yvonne entered the room and saw the woman on the couch. In a quiet, reassuring voice, Yvonne spoke to her. “Good morning, ma’am. My name is Yvonne. I understand you have had quite a scary experience this morning. I just want to let you know that what you’re feeling is completely normal and it’s okay to be scared. . .”

  After an hour, Yvonne exited the office and spoke to Detective Corporal Bobby Pell.

  “She’s in a state of shock, Bobby. But I’ve managed to get her name out of her. Her name is Meredith Carson.”

  Detective Pell exclaimed, “That’s right! Now I remember her from when she was a prosecutor. I was just a rookie cop then. Say

  Brad, isn’t she married to that guy who used to work here?”

  “You mean Mike Carson?”

  “Yeah, that’s the guy. He was a hell of a cop.”

  “If that’s her, then yes.”

  “I wonder if they ID’d the guy out there yet. Do you think it might have been Carson who offed himself?”

  “Man, I hope not. He was a great guy.”

  Yvonne said, “I’m going back in and speak to her a little more.”

  Bobby said, “Let us know if she’ll be up for a few questions.”

  “I’ll let you know. But don’t expect a lot. She’s very distraught. It may be some time before she’ll talk.”

  Detective Pell made a phone call to the detectives on the scene.
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  “Roger? Hey, it’s Bobby. Say, do you have an ID on that guy out there yet?”

  “Not yet. We just got the house cleared. We’re going in now.

  Any luck with the woman?”

  “Yeah. Ready for this? Meredith Carson. Isn’t that Mike Carson’s wife?”

  “I believe it is.”

  “Is there a vehicle parked outside?”

  “Yeah, there’s an SUV.”

  Bobby said, “Read me the tag and I’ll run it on the computer.” Roger read Bobby the tag and Bobby ran it.

  When he got the name return he said in disbelief, “Oh shit. It’s not looking good, Roger. It’s registered to Michael Carson.”

  “I pray that’s not him. I can’t see him doing something like that. All right, Bobby, thanks for the heads up. I’ll let you know as soon as we find out anything. But from what I understand, there isn’t much left to make a positive visual ID. Maybe she’ll open up and let us know a little more. We may have to wait on the M.E.”

  “Okay Roger, I’ll keep you up to date.”

  In the other room, Yvonne had developed a rapport with Meredith.

  “Meredith, would you like some coffee?”

  Meredith quietly answered, “No thank you. But could I have some water?”

  Seeing this as a breakthrough, Yvonne responded, “Yes, yes of course. I’ll be right back.”

  Yvonne exited and told Detective Pell that she was making some headway with Meredith. “Can I get a bottle of water for her?”

  “Of course. Say Doc, you don’t think she could be faking any of this do you?”

  “Bobby, this is a classic case of an acute stress reaction. This poor girl has seen something traumatic and is terrified beyond belief. I’m actually surprised she’s said anything at all. Sometimes it takes much longer for people to open up at all after something like this.”

  “Huh! Well, you’re the expert, Doc. I’ll be right back with that water.” Bobby returned and gave her the bottle. “Just let me know if you need anything else.”

  Yvonne reentered the room and Meredith was sitting up now.

  “Here’s your water, Meredith. Is there anything else I can get for you?”