The Ultimate Mystery Thriller Horror Box Set (7 Mystery Thriller Horror Bestsellers)

by Perkins, Cathy

  Kate almost came out of her chair when Mel mentioned that her father started seeing a mystic whose name was Teresa. I on the other hand was barely surprised by that; it seemed that maybe there was a common thread running through people who had near death experiences and also those who had been in comas and been revived. Teresa seemed to be just another commonality between Jimbo Morris and me.

  Melanie was beginning to flag, so she thanked us for meeting her for drinks, and for what became the very heavy conversation we had. I told her that it would be nice if she would come over to our house sometime after we returned from our vacation and have dinner. We could talk more then, and maybe I could tell her about her father’s shenanigans in high school.

  We walked her to her car and said goodnight. Kate spoke up as soon as Melanie drove away. “You know, Tell, I think you should start writing this as a journal and turn it into a book. We are on the verge of something that, if we aren’t hallucinating, could be historic beyond anyone’s wildest imagination. I mean, holy shit,” she said rather uncharacteristically.

  I pulled her close as we walked to our car and said, “Honey Bunch, buckle your seat belt. I have a feeling that the ride is going to get even wilder than it’s been. Aren’t you glad you married me?”

  “Yes, I sure am… but.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I was driving in blinding rain along the route to the project site and thinking about what Kate and I had decided to do with some vacation time. We both needed to go somewhere and relax. We had considered the Caribbean or maybe a cruise. Then we thought, why not rent a mobile home and just get lost somewhere in the country? We’d fly out to California, rent one there and then just go. The experience I had in the rig we camped out in Arizona aside, this seemed like a great idea.

  Our house had become a fortress. What with the security system that would rival Fort Knox and the strengthening of the doors and windows, it was beginning to make me claustrophobic. I wanted to get out somewhere and breathe the ocean. I needed to cleanse my soul. To free my mind. To spend time with the woman I love.

  We decided to fly to Los Angeles, rent a comfortable mobile home there, and just drive for two weeks. Kate was ecstatic and in her classic ‘Kate way’ put the entire expedition together in less than three hours. In a week we’d be on our way — after I put my piece on the moon/sleep study to bed and left it in the hands of Kevin and the project team leader.

  The work was set for publishing in four weeks and my presence during the first month after the release was considered critical, in case there were questions from on high — otherwise known as the print media. We would get our vacation in and be back in plenty of time to accommodate the schedule.

  Kevin was acting a bit out of sorts, the day before my vacation began. “Something wrong, Kevin?” I asked him.

  “You know, Teller, I’m feeling that we could have both done better with this. We both have the capacity to make this project report something extraordinary… that is, if we take some more time with it, before it’s really complete.”

  “You’re the perfectionist, Kevin. I feel that on a one to ten, we have an eight. What’s wrong with an eight?”

  “It’s not a nine… or better, a ten,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Maybe it’s me but I really think this thing of ours came out amazingly well, and I can’t think of anything that I can do to meaningfully improve it. Keep burnishing the diamond and eventually there’s nothing but dust, know what I mean?” I could see he was unreceptive. “But, maybe while Kate and I are vacationing and I am literally in a different place, maybe I’ll be able to come up with something to make it more acceptable under your standards. If I don’t, then we have just got to go with what we have. I will have my Notebook with me, of course. If you think of something, you know my number. It would be great if I could help you to make this a nine or maybe the ten you want.”

  He asked, “Where are you going, by the way?”

  “I thought I told you, but we’re going to drive up the California coast in a motor home.”

  “You didn’t have enough of a mobile rig living in Arizona?” he kidded. I was glad to see his mood lift.

  “We are also going to do some hiking and camping,” I said.

  “Watch out for bears and… and…”

  “And what, Kevin?” I was curious about his utterance.

  “Mountain lions,” he said without a missing a beat as he examined his camera.

  “If that’s all we run into I won’t complain,” I said.

  “You bringing a gun?” Kevin said, a bit distracted.

  “Didn’t know I could.” Then I thought about what a great suggestion that was. However, transporting a gun across country by plane was a challenge. And not one I was up to.

  “Check the gun laws in California. You might be able to buy one there,” he advised.

  “Then, how do I get it home?”

  “That’s right. Scratch that one.”

  “We’ll be fine anyway. We won’t go into areas that are too wild and remote,” I assured him.

  “Here, take this with you to use for night photography.” He held out a camera and case.

  “What the hell would I be taking pictures of at night, Kevin?”

  “Owls.”

  I thought for a moment before thanking him and adding, “Taking pictures in the dark is something that never entered my head, until I saw what you did with a camera at night.” I put the camera and case in my man purse, thanked him and was off.

  I could feel Kevin’s eyes on me as I exited the parking lot and turned onto the road heading home. I’d sensed a strange reserve on his part over the week leading up to my trip. That seemed odd but not unexpected from Kevin, and his comments about the project being only an eight actually spoke volumes about his mindset.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The California sun was indeed like the words the Beach Boys sang during my younger days. It was warm and very welcoming as we pulled out of the rental facility in what was to be our home-on-wheels for the next ten days, and followed the directions of our Garmin onto the freeway leaving Los Angeles, pointed north.

  The weather was almost perfect and being on the left coast gave us a different mindset. It was hard to put into words but brought a sense of freedom we didn’t have a lot of, back east. I looked forward to some fun times traveling through the Golden State.

  Kate made coffee for us and chuckled as she said she could get used to all this, especially what we once laughed at when talking about “old farts” living on the road in their mobile homes that jammed up traffic every time you saw one, and here we were clogging up the California highways without batting an eye, driving barely fifty miles per hour. She handed me a large mug of coffee before planting her lovely self in the captain’s chair across from mine. “What time you got, Honey?” I asked before trying to determine how far we should drive into our first day of vacation.

  “It’s about 12:30. Now don’t push yourself. We can find a mobile park anywhere out of the cities and all it takes is getting off the highway and into one. Get it?” she asked with a wink.

  “I think I’m going to, at some point.” I smiled, feeling really relaxed and happy about being where we were, but very aware of the size of the vehicle I was cautiously guiding up the highway, like the “old fart” I was becoming.

  The Pacific Ocean was breathtaking as we drove the coastal highway, mesmerized by its scope and beauty. It was like being in one of the many commercials we’d seen over the years during the Super Bowl ads and such. I was enjoying the moment and just being alive was turning me on as we drove.

  “How about packing it in for the night; let’s say, somewhere south of San Luis, Obispo?” Kate suggested as she peered at the map on her lap. “Like right here.” She pointed at the upcoming exit.

  “Aye aye, Momma,” was my response.

  I steered the rig off the highway and up to a traffic signal, then turned right up a slight incline and into a campgrou
nd, where we asked for and were assigned a secluded site in the back of the park, well shaded by majestic and tall oak trees. It was an enthusiastic effort to hook up the water, electric and sewer lines as Kate started to whip us up some food. Coming around the front of the rig I was startled by a family of rabbits as they ran by me and scurried into the underbrush in at least four directions.

  It was a relief to know that what had startled me was of this world, for a change. I reflected on the difference between being startled as opposed to being terrified and how the body seems to react. Was it not a fact that ‘startled’ usually happened during daylight and ‘terrified’ usually occurred during darkness? What was it about darkness that could so easily make a strong man weak? Was it the lack of visibility? Was it the energy of the night? I tried remembering if I was ever frightened during daylight by having the same experience that frightened me at night. Was I afraid of the dark? Was it me in fact that was drawing all this weirdness my way? Had I compromised the safety of my wife? Questions, oh so many questions.

  I plopped down in a chair smiling at Kate while I told her of the rabbit family scrambling around our campsite.

  “You think they were looking for an invite to dinner?” she asked.

  “As long as they behave, I’m okay with that. But they appeared to be over sexed. I mean really oversexed and I don’t want you embarrassed, m’dear, as a result.” I smiled coyly.

  “Yeah, right. Those poor little dears. It’s getting dark and they’re out there looking for a place to party,” she said. “You gonna start the fire and get ta’ cooking us vittles?” She was talking like one of the Clampetts, which was something I hadn’t heard her do before.

  So I chimed in, “Ain’t nothing but magic Ellie Mae; and I think you’d better be fetching Jethro so’s he can be callin’ in tha critters afore the foxes git ‘em.”

  We were laughing — something we hadn’t done much of lately.

  Kate began preparing a salad, using food provided by the people from whom we rented the mobile home. They also generously staked us to chicken breasts and seasoning and sodas, coffee and the basics to get us started on our camping adventure.

  I fired up the grill with chicken breasts and seasoning in hand. As I watched the propane flames heat up the grill I heard a noise that startled me, and I was surprised to see a deer standing not more than fifteen feet away, staring me down. “Hello Bambi, where’s Thumper?” I said with a chuckle.

  Kate poked her head out the door, asking me who I was speaking with. I nodded toward the deer and she laughed as she said, “He’s cute. Will he be joining us for dinner?”

  As she spoke he turned and ran off into the gathering darkness.

  “Now look at what you’ve done, woman,” I said in mock scolding. “You’ve offended our guest!”

  I ckecked on the chicken, and as I did I heard the bushes rustle. I looked in the direction of the noise expecting to see my deer buddy return… but saw nothing.

  The wind had kicked up a bit and I attributed the rustling in the bushes to that, until I thought I heard a hushed voice whispering.

  “Who’s there?” I said loudly.

  Kate came to the door again. “Who are you talking to?”

  “I don’t know. I thought I heard someone saying something.” I pointed toward the darkness that began at the edge of the outside light from the mobile home.

  “Something… something like what?”

  “Nothing really, just a voice. Probably the wind blowing through the trees or maybe coming from another campsite,” I said as I took the chicken from the grill and went inside the rig to join Kate as we sat down to a very nice meal.

  “Some Merlot, my love?” She smiled, holding up the bottle.

  “Only if I can take advantage of you after you’ve had a couple glasses of that stuff.” I winked a big wink and threw in a nod too, pointing at the bottle in her hand.

  After dinner we went back outside for the last bit of wine and some conversation under the stars of the California sky. We planned our trip from there to the next campsite north of San Francisco and the wine country of the Napa Valley. We mapped the route and decided to call it a night.

  I locked the door behind us and turned off the outside light. Then I thought better of it and turned it back on. It didn’t take long for Kate to ask why I had done it. I explained to her that I was afraid of the dark. Only a mild exaggeration at that point.

  “I’ll protect you,” she assured me as she mock-pounded her chest.

  “Sure, sure,” I joked. “Just keep a flashlight handy in case we lose the light.” I bowed and said, “And now ‘tis my time to bid you, bid us, a fond goodnight.”

  “How did I ever wind up with you?” she said, almost to herself.

  “Um. I heard that,” I said, getting into bed.

  “Oh no,” Kate chuckled as she also climbed into bed.

  “This is the life, my darlin’,” was my last comment before I quietly fell asleep.

  We awoke at the same time to the brightness of the early morning. At first I was a bit disoriented, but that passed as soon as I looked out the window at the trees half-encircling the rig realizing where I was and how I got there.

  Coffee and honey bran muffins hit the spot as we sat outside, enjoying the morning sun. It was amazing to me how different I felt about life in general on sun-filled days, especially in the morning. Things seemed to make more sense and there was nothing to fear as long as I could see what was in front of me and a sense of what was behind. It was only on rainy days and dark nights that the weirdness crept back into my world, so I needed the recharge and reassurance of this beautiful morning — and as it came it was more than welcomed by me and my wife.

  Kate checked the map as she said, “Let’s get cleaned up and hit the road. We’re bound for glory.”

  “And where is that, my love?”

  “What?”

  “Glory.”

  “Just before we leave California.” She pointed to the map and to the town of Glory nestled in the tall trees of northern California.

  I showered and shaved, then went about readying the motor home for the trip. As soon as Kate had finished her shower I disconnected the water, sewer and electric lines. The motor was a near-silent purr, which was unusual for a rig this big. I drove through the campground very cautiously, wanting to keep the dust down and to prevent the surprise of people or animals walking into the road ahead of me.

  Getting back on the highway was easy and we were off heading due north toward the Big Sur and the incredible forests of northern California where camping was born; or so we were told, by somebody on TV or in the movies.

  Kate said that we had enough groceries to last for another three days or so. That made it easier since we didn’t have to negotiate mall marts or shopping center parking lots. The road was filled with all sorts of vehicles and I stayed hugging the right side, with irritated drivers following behind waiting for an opportunity to pass.

  My phone rang and the voice of Kevin Maroso greeted me. “How’s your trip going?”

  “We’re having quite the time, my friend,” I answered smugly.

  “Where are you?” he asked.

  “Approaching San Fran. Why?”

  “Because I have a suggestion for you and Kate, when you stop for the night, find yourselves a country setting and watch the sky. The moon will be new tonight and there will be an incredible meteor shower around ten or so this evening on the West Coast. Do you have the camera I loaned you?”

  “Sure. But we haven’t had a chance to use it,” I answered somewhat apologetically.

  “Why not?”

  “Well, we just got started on our trip, and—”

  “And what?” He cut me off. “Wasn’t it dark there last night?”

  “That’s rhetorical. What’s your point Kevin?” I was becoming a bit annoyed with the direction this brief conversation was starting to take and his tone of voice. Was this trip for us, or for Kevin?

  “Th
e direction it needs to go… here, Anthony wants to talk with you. See if he has any rhetorical questions for you. He just got in from Arizona to help with putting the presentation site together.”

  “Teller… hey, Anthony here. What was that phone number you had when you were a kid?”

  “Ulster 5-8076… why?”

  “Last night I heard from one of my Iraq lieutenants. Teller? He had a message for you.”

  “For me? What’s his name, Anthony?”

  “Mester, Lieutenant Mester.”

  “I don’t recognize the name. How’s he know me?”

  “That’s what I’m wondering, Tell.” His voice turned unusually serious almost instantly.

  “When’s the last time you saw him, Anthony?”

  “When I escorted his body home, from Iraq,” he answered with a voice that was fading.

  “What?” I pulled the rig off at the exit I’d just approached and continued talking. “How did he reach you? Was it in a dream?” I was stunned.

  “No it was by phone… and you are not going to believe this… the number he called from? It was Ulster 5-8076.” Anthony went on tersely, “He said to tell you that they are all around you, at night. You need to be careful. They are trying to cause you to say the name and that mustn’t happen. For the sake of all, here, and there, it mustn’t ever happen. That is what he said. Verbatim.”

  “Did he say anything else?”

  “No… Jesus… I’ll be honest, Tell. I almost shit my pants when I heard his voice,” he said. “I didn’t have the presence of mind to ask him anything before he hung up. I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Do me a favor, Anthony, and write down everything you remember about this. Everything, the way you felt, if there were other voices in the background. Everything.”

  “Okay, Tell. Be careful, man. This is some weird shit and I think it means something is coming. It’s like a scary movie. I swear. And you and your wife are out there on your own.”