by Deborah Noel
I pulled Bullet’s leash taunt back to me and quietly reassured him that everything was okay. I was disappointed that I would be unable to get to the Castle and start working. I was about to turn around and leave when the older man caught sight of me.
Our eyes locked and something changed in his demeanor. A strange fear took over my body and froze me in place. Bullet’s growl deepened, his stance became more aggressive.
A quick gesture of the older man made the other two look my way. Slowly they stood and the girls stopped giggling when they saw me. They instantly resented me as the other woman invading their space.
The men smiled evasively at me.
I forced myself to move forward and put my fear as far down into my body as I could to hide it. Bullet was apprehensive about my decision, but followed my lead, keeping close to me and positioning himself between me and the strangers.
With the best smile I could muster, I called to them, “Hello, sorry to interrupt, I’m just walking my dog around the cove and will be on my way.”
As I closed the distance between us, the older man strode over to greet me. His eyes were amazing! They were the most crystal ice blue I had ever seen. They were captivating.
“No worries, my friend, this is a public beach. We can all enjoy it,” he said in a thick accent unrecognizable to me.
I kept my artificial smile in place. “Thanks, but I am on a schedule. The dog needed to make a pit-stop.” I lifted Bullet’s leash to emphasize my point.
“By all means,” he cupped his palm and in one continuous motion he swept his arm in front of his body and extended it in the direction I was headed, “After you.”
“Thank you, kind sir,” I said to him. “Again, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
He took a few steps toward me. Bullet took on an offensive posture in his loyal effort to keep me protected. He gave his best ferocious bark at the stranger getting ready to invade my personal space.
Even though my dog was only 23 pounds, he was stocky, yet lean. His teeth were long and white and he showed them off well. Someone could easily kick him aside, but he did make one think twice with fear of being bit. The man did heed Bullet’s warning and stopped in his tracks.
“Hello, ma’am. My name is Bolton. I’m new around here,” he introduced himself officially. I still couldn’t place the accent.
“Nice to meet you, Bolton. I’m Cianna and not from around here. I’m traveling to work and…” I motioned towards Bullet.
“Ah, Cianna, nice Irish name. It is the feminine form of the Gaelic name Cian, which means ancient; if I’m not mistaken, yes?”
I blushed, “Yes.”
He went on, “This was the name of the mythical ancestor of the Cianachta in Irish legend.”
“You sure know your stuff, huh?”
I thought I saw a faint pink color glide across his pale cheeks. Something didn’t sit right with me about this man, “Well, I don’t mean to be rude, but I really must be on my way. I’m expected at the office.”
He extended his hand, “I understand. It was nice to meet you. I hope to see you around again sometime.”
I took his hand into mine. A feeling ten times stronger than that I experienced with Shane pulsed through my body. I made a conscience effort to blank my mind. I thought I saw a spark of orange fly through his blue eyes, but dismissed that as if it was my anxiety playing tricks on me.
I released the grip and nodded politely to him. “Maybe sometime, Bolton. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
He flashed his bright white smile, “Ah, you don’t understand what it means to be a third wheel with your sons and their girlfriends.”
I looked back at the two younger couples.
“My sons, Blake and Lucas and their girlfriends, Emily and Chloe.” He tilted his head and looked a bit out of sorts. “But not your problem,” he admitted. “Some other time then.”
“Nice to meet you.” I said and started to walk towards the tree line, leaving Bolton standing alone on the beach. Bullet still had his scruff standing at attention. He followed my lead, trotting slowly away from the newcomers. We walked towards the tree line and Bullet played his part by stopping quickly to lift his leg. We turned back towards the trail, walking to it by way of the trees, keeping our distant from party at the water’s edge.
I kept my wall up in my mind. I still wasn’t convinced that Bolton was just some regular stranger who happened along a secluded beach in the middle of a forest. The flash of orange in his eyes still made the soft, tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up. And just thinking of his touch sent waves of insecurity through me.
The sudden vibration of my cell phone clipped to my waist startled me. I quickly grabbed it and checked the caller ID. It was Declan.
“What is wrong?” he demanded through the phone line.
I chuckled in spite of myself. “Everything is fine, Declan. Just ran into some strangers enjoying the lovely day on the beach.”
“Strangers? What kind of strangers? Cianna, listen to me, get yourself out of there. NOW. Get back to the Jeep, lock the doors and get away from there.” “Declan,” I said in a panic, “You are scaring me. What is going on? It was just a man and his two sons along with their girlfriends. What’s the big deal? As soon as I saw them, it was too late the man saw me. He introduced himself…”
Declan cut me off. “I know, Ci. I felt your wave of panic. I tried to get in your head to be there, but you put your wall back up and wouldn’t answer me. I’ve been arguing with Sam as to whether I should leave and drive out to you. I saw a flash of orange just before I realized you were closed off. I never saw that before.”
Now I was freaked out and more scared than I had been earlier. Without giving my new fear away in my voice, I collected myself. I explained the encounter exactly as it happened to my husband. I assured him that I was only minutes from the Jeep and that no one was following me. I told him that Bullet’s scruff was down and he was leading the way to the Jeep.
He tried to make me promise to go anywhere but home, which reminded me of being tailed earlier. I spilled my guts about that event to him as well.
Declan was even more concerned. I talked him into meeting me halfway for lunch. Sam was in the background and was insistent on joining us. I gave my word that I would meet them at O’Reilly’s Pub in 35 minutes. It was good enough to end the phone call.
I knew I didn’t have much time.
Chapter Eight
I put Bullet in the Jeep and grabbed only my camera from my backpack. Against my better judgment, I left my cell phone with Bullet. I kissed the top of his head, told him to stay and remarked on what a good boy he was. He wagged his tail. I commanded him to stay again and added for him to guard. He sat poised in the driver’s seat.
Quickly weaving my way through the woods, I came to the edge of the trees at the beginning of the beach. I was about 30 yards from where I had come through before. Bolton and his family were still enjoying themselves. I brought the camera to my sights and began snapping pictures. I zoomed in to get as close up as a shot I could.
I took several of the girls, Emily and Chloe, I reminded myself of their names, and snapped several more of the boys, Blake and Lucas. I turned my attention toward Bolton. I aimed the lens in his direction and zoomed in for a close-up. Click, click went the shutter as I tried to get a few good close-ups of his face.
Suddenly, he lifted his nose to the air and drank in the scents lofting lazily upon the breeze. I froze.
He looked in my direction. I could see through my lens that his eyes were no longer ice blue; they were now a muted orange. Shaded by the thick brush, with only the lens slightly exposed, I held my breath and snapped one last picture. The lasting memory of those haunted eyes was now captured on film, not that I would ever forget them.
I watched through the camera as his glare relaxed and a smirk curled up the corner of his lips. The ferociousness in his eyes calmed and they returned to their ice blue shade. I gently pushed the button
for one last picture to prove I wasn’t imagining a change in the color.
He turned back to his family.
I crawled on my belly backwards down the path so I would disturb as little as possible and minimize the noise of me leaving.
It felt like it took forever and a day for me to get back to the Jeep. Once I was there, I didn’t hesitate to jump in and immediately head to meet up with Sam and Declan. Of course, my cell phone informed me I had a message. The missed call was from Declan. I forgot that I still had my walls up.
Deciding to keep them up just in case, I called Declan on the phone.
“Don’t tell me you had the music too loud, Cianna,” he greeted me.
“I won’t.”
“What where you doing?”
“Taking a few pictures of something that caught my eyes, you know me--I can’t resist taking a good picture.”
He grunted. “How far are you from O’Reilly’s?”
“Not very. I’ll be there shortly. Oh and I promise, no more stops.”
He didn’t even acknowledge the last part. The phone line was dead.
I made it to O’Reilly’s in record time, less than twenty minutes. Declan and Sam were already seated at the small bar when I entered. Declan was fuming. I put on my most sincere puppy dog face as I headed towards them. Sam burst into a fit of laughter. Declan didn’t see the humor. I pulled a dollar out of my pocket and tossed it on the table. “Oh, buy a sense of humor, will ya?”
Not wanting to make a spectacle of his anger, Declan only grunted and pointed to the seat between him and Sam. I sat down and scooted closer to Sam, who was still engaged in his laughter fit. I thought of opening up my mind, but I didn’t want my head to hurt from the upcoming tirade.
A waitress came over with a tray of drinks. A soda was ordered for me already. When she was far enough out of earshot, I turned to Declan.
“Listen, you can be mad all you want, but it won’t change a thing. I wanted pictures to bring back to show you and Sam. They beat any adjectives I could conjure up to describe what I saw. I was fine and safe.” I stopped to look into his eyes. “And, Declan, I kept up the walls, not to shut you out but because I wasn’t sure about this guy, I didn’t want to take the chance of him maybe being able to get in too and expose the Castle. All my pictures and notes are in the office there. I was worried about them.”
His anger softened to a mildly aggravated. “I know, but your safety is more important to me than any of that.” He flashed his don’t-do-it-again look at me. “Now let’s see these strangers.”
We huddled together close to view the digital photos on the small screen of my camera. I divvied out all of the minute details I could remember that the snapshots on the screen couldn’t reveal. I was disappointed that the orange in his eyes wasn’t as vibrant as it was in my mind, but at least the change could be seen in the pictures.
“These should be better once printed on paper,” I assured them.
“Email copies to me, Cianna,” Sam asked without asking. “I want to run them through the system to see if we get any hits.”
“Yes, sir,” I felt like I was officially back on the job.
Declan hounded me with about 10,000 more questions until my head began to pound. Finally I could not take any more of the badgering and hollered at him in my mind to zip it - I was finished with the third degree. He stopped and apologized.
The three of us ordered a light lunch. Declan decided that he would follow me back home. Both of us agreed to swing by the beach to have a look. When we got out to the cars, I put Bullet in with Declan. It was still early in the afternoon. I had really wanted to get some work on the files started today, but accepted the fact that that may have to wait until later. Declan told Sam that he would meet him again at the office if all was good on the home-front (as he called it).
Sam came over to give Bullet a quick hard pat and kissed the top of my head. He stopped and whispered in my ear, “Ya nearly gave the poor guy a heart attack, ya know. He isn’t worth a damn when he isn’t linked to you.”
I giggled softly. He winked and said his goodbyes.
Declan and I hopped in our Jeeps. We made our way to the dirt path, parked and quietly hiked to the beach. Neither of us knew what we would find.
The beach of clear of all sunbathers. Not a soul in sight. It was eerily silent. Even the water was motionless and the waterfall seemed to only trickle lightly.
The only evidence of visitors was footprints scattered in the sand. The canoe was tucked away in its hiding spot just as we had left it. After one last look around to make sure we were alone, we grabbed the canoe and rowed over to the dock. We scurried down the path and disappeared behind the faint wall of water. There was no sign of anyone traveling down the path before us.
We walked into the mountain and headed down the open hallway. We turned left at the division of the tunnel and snuck out quietly to the entrance of our Castle. Declan signaled me to wait at the archway so he could check to make sure no one was inside. A few minutes later in my head, his voice told me it was safe to come in. He decided right then it would be best to create a door to shield the entranceway into our abode.
While Declan worked on the door, I plugged the computer into the small generator we had for power and began to download the photos of Bolton and his family from the memory card of my camera. The details were not lost in full resolution. I emailed the images to Sam at the office. I glanced over the pictures again. I arranged them in an order that only made sense to me and tucked them into their own file folder.
I cleared my desk and went to the filing cabinet that we had made, which sunk into the wall. The drawer fronts were made of stone so no one would be able to tell they existed. I pulled open the door and pulled out all of the files filled with notes and photos of the second murder scene.
My mind drifted back to that day as I went through my photos.
It was a small customer service call center that employed maybe 100 people total. The company ran 24/7 with three shifts. It was 3 am when I got the call to come to the scene. Sam was already there when I arrived.
The late shift only had a crew of 12. Half of them had gone for their lunch break. When they returned, they found their co-workers mutilated. The scene was a blood bath, severed bodies strewn about.
One girl escaped with her life because she was in the ladies room when it happened. She heard the screams and stood on the toilet so her feet wouldn’t be seen under the door. She even unlocked the door, making it look like the bathroom was empty. She said she bit her own tongue to keep her screams quiet, hoping no one would find her in the bathroom. When all quieted down the ladies room door opened and she heard a low whisper of a stranger tell her, “Today is your lucky day, stay in here or join the others…” Officers found her huddled in the corner hysterical; she refused to leave, even though the place was swarming with police.
Turned out her husband of five days was somewhere in the carnage. She was better staying put in the bathroom until it was all cleaned up and sorted out.
Once I was on the scene, I loaded a new memory card in my camera then started snapping pictures.
The guard station was empty. In a quiet town, no one expected such a thing in the middle of the night. The security cameras only revealed one dark figure walking in the door’s entrance after six employees had gone for their lunch. Sam had already had the video sent to be processed. I’d be viewing it later.
The hallway was well lit, and revealed nothing out of the ordinary. No blood splatters nor traces. The phones that normally rang were quiet. All calls had been re-routed to another call center, probably many states over.
The work stations were another story. The first three cubicles were women--well, the remains of women.
The first victim had been decapitated. It must have been a surprise. Her head lay on the desk beside her computer’s monitor; her phone’s headpiece was still around her head and in her ear. Her eyes showed no fear. Her braided red hair hung over th
e edge of the desk. Her arms had been sliced off at the elbows with her hands still in place at the keyboard. Her torso and legs sat in the chair as she had been. Blood splatter showed the trail her head traveled as it left its body, coming to rest on her desk. The floor under the chair was soaked with blood. A “newbie” sign was taped to the outside of her station. There was one family picture pinned to the cloth wall of the cubicle alongside the monitor. Her purse remained untouched in the opened bottom file drawer. A bottle of water was knocked over by her own head.
The girl who was sitting next to her must have stood up to see what was going on, because her body was slumped on the floor against the shared cloth wall that divided the two. Her head was sitting atop of her telephone switchboard on her L-shaped desk. The earpiece to the phone still in place. Her eyes were frozen in fear from the last images she saw.
I snapped pictures, moments apart, of everything before the lens.
On the walls of the second victim were pinned up photos of presumably her family at various parties. She was barely out of her teenage years. There was a photo of her blowing out candles on a cake, which read “Happy 21st Colette.” A few cards were also pinned to the back wall of her station.
The third victim was worse than the first two. She had turned in her chair to face her attacker. She, too, was beheaded. Her head was wedged into the edge of the filing cabinet and hung at the top of the cubicle. Her face was pushed in by what looked like a palm that was quick, hard and precise in its aim. Her body was laying in a heap, slumped on the floor floating in the enormous amount of blood that emptied from the veins and arteries ripped open from the separation of body and head. In her hand was a letter opener, held so tight her knuckles were white. Apparently she was attempting to defend herself against the horrific attack.
Her cubicle was similarly decorated with pictures of family and friends. And like the girls before her, her pocketbook was untouched in the bottom drawer of the small filing cabinet under her desk.
