Crimson Falls (The Depravity Chronicles)

by Joshua Grove

  “I hear it and see it,” Matthew replied. “This should be interesting.”

  “What do you think it is?” Amy asked.

  “I don’t know, but something tells me we’re about to find out.”

  * * * * * *

  3

  “Are you seriously going to crawl under the damned table?” George asked, sounding irritated. Jake wanted to flip him off, but instead decided to ignore him.

  Why do I owe you an answer? Jake thought. He grabbed the edges of the ornate tablecloth and pulled. When it didn’t slide across the surface of the table, he tugged a little harder.

  “Even this thing is attached to the wall,” Jake griped. “Now that’s just plain weird.”

  “What do you think it means?” George asked.

  “How the hell should I know? Just keep your eyes open for any movement in the room.”

  “Sure thing,” George mumbled.

  The cloth was long, its length ending just above the floor. Jake lifted it and folded it onto the table. He bent to his knees so he could get a good look under the table. He took the flashlight and shined it onto the wooden panels on the far end.

  “See anything?” George asked. Jake could sense a mocking tone. Again, he ignored him. Jake considered him a good friend, but at times George could be a real pain in the ass.

  “These panels could probably be removed pretty easily,” Jake thought out loud, more to himself than to George. He began crawling toward the wall hoping he would find something. He’d never hear the end of it if he came out empty handed. George would have a field day. He could hear George chuckling as he reached the wall at the end of the table.

  There were four large panels in front of him. He decided to start with the ones on the bottom. He pushed on the one to his right as hard as he could. If one of these panels acted as a secret door, it wasn’t this one. He tried the one on the left, and that didn’t work either. After working his way through the remaining panels, he sat with his legs folded, his head touching the bottom of the table.

  He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something behind those panels. He decided to trace his fingers along the trim of each panel, thinking that perhaps there was some sort of trigger. He felt something catch, and then the sound of a latch turning. The panels on the right both opened. Although the passage was small, he easily fit through.

  “Did you find something, Jake?” George yelled from the library as Jake made his way through the opening. He quickly turned around and crawled back out from under the table and into the library.

  “There’s a door under there, George. Who’s the dumbass now?” He allowed his comment to float in the air for a moment before continuing. “Get Rick and John down here for backup. We’re going in.”

  “Copy that, Jake.”

  While George called the others, Jake began wondering whether it was a good idea to explore what was behind those walls. After their experience in the woods, he didn’t want to take any chances. But then again, cracking this case wide open could ensure that he would win the next election.

  It can’t be that unsafe, Jake thought. Nothing could have gotten into this house once we were in here. And the killer, or killers, were outside. He tried to remember if there were any other entrances to the house, minus the front and side doors.

  “Give me that,” Jake ordered as he took George’s radio.

  “Tim, do you copy?” Jake asked.

  “Copy, Jake. What’s up?”

  “Have you found a basement yet?”

  “No, but . . . but we found something else.” Tim’s voice was filled with hesitation.

  Jake waited for Tim to say something and got frustrated when he didn’t. “This is the part where you tell me what you found.”

  “There’s no basement, per say,” Tim said. “But there is a wine cellar. At least that is my best guess.”

  “What do you mean, your best guess?”

  “Well, it’s locked up pretty good. Two deadbolts. There are a few cases of wine lying outside the door here beside us. So we’re figuring it’s a wine cellar.”

  “Copy that,” Jake said. “See if you can break the door down.”

  “Copy. How are things on your end?”

  “We found something, too,” Jake said. “A secret door to a room behind the library.”

  “I almost don’t know what to say to that,” Tim radioed back. “Are Rick and John going to check it out with you?”

  “10-4, they just got here. Do you have your end covered?” Jake asked.

  “Roger. Let’s check in every five minutes,” Tim suggested.

  Jake wished he had been the one to give the orders. “Copy.” He shoved the radio back at George. “Put it away.”

  The four of them crawled under the table single file, then found themselves staring at a ginormous, strange carving of what looked like a bear.

  “Damn,” Rick said as he whistled.

  “Is that some sort of bear?” Jake asked.

  “It’s a totem,” Rick said. Everyone looked at him with surprise. “What? Yes, I read.”

  It figures this jackass would have an answer, Jake thought. Rick reminded Jake of Tim, which made sense since they were good friends.

  “You mean like the Indians?” George asked.

  “You mean the Native Americans?” Rick corrected. “Yes, it is. I think it’s a family or tribe thing.”

  “Clan of the Cave Bear kind of shit, right?” John asked. “My wife reads those books.”

  “I couldn’t tell you,” Rick answered.

  “I didn’t know Acorn Alan was Native American,” Jake confessed.

  “I don’t think anyone did,” Rick said as he looked through a few of the books behind the totem.

  “Check this out,” John said as he moved to the other side of the room. “A hallway lit by fire lamps. Someone must be down there.”

  “Do you think it could be the priests?” George asked.

  “I have a feeling this is their handiwork,” Jake said. “What idiots. How could they think it would be a good idea to walk down a hidden tunnel that, at the time, must have been dark as hell?”

  “But what if the lamps were already lit,” Rick pointed out. “They were obviously smart enough to find the secret entrance under the table.”

  “Well then that makes them ten times dumber,” Jake griped, knowing he wasn’t making much sense. “So I guess we need to find them. Let’s go.”

  “Someone have matches or a lighter?” Rick asked the group. “Just in case our lights don’t work and the lamps go out.”

  “I have a lighter,” George offered. “I still haven’t quit smoking.”

  “Good, let’s move,” Jake ordered. He had to admit that both Rick and Tim were good cops. In fact, once he was elected sheriff he would make Rick and Tim his top cops. That way at least Jake’s authority would separate the man from the boys.

  As they began walking through the tunnel, Jake noticed how cold it seemed. A shiver crept down his spine, similar to the way he had felt when they were running through the forest.

  “Something’s not right,” John murmured. “It shouldn’t be this cold. I mean, yes, it gets cooler underground, but this is different.”

  “Maybe it’s ventilated,” George wondered. Everyone looked at him.

  “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it,” Jake mocked. “John, you guys brought a larger flashlight with you, right?”

  “Yeah, got one right here.”

  Jake took the flashlight and began shining it down the hall. When they made the U-turn, Jake lifted his hand so everyone would come to a halt.

  “Do you see that down there?” he asked.

  “I see something moving, but can’t make it out,” Rick answered.

  It must be the priests, Jake thought to himself. He began walking quickly toward the dark shapes, holding the flashlight steady. Confusion muddled Jake’s mind when he realized there were three figures moving toward him.

  “Who’s there?” Jake yelled as
he reached for his gun.

  “It’s Father McMillan!” a voice answered. “We have an injured police officer!”

  What the hell? Jake thought. He picked up his pace until he could clearly see Matthew and Amy.

  “What the Christ are you guys doing down here?” Jake demanded. He looked at the man they were helping. By this point, Rick and the others had joined them with George bringing up the rear.

  “It’s Michael,” Jake said softly.

  “Jesus!” George hollered. “It’s Michael!”

  “No shit, Sherlock,” Jake snapped. “We done figured that out.”

  “How did you get down here?” Rick asked, dumbfounded.

  “You’ve got a shitload of explaining to do, priests,” Jake said in a nasty tone. “And you can start by telling me how the hell you ended up with a bloody cop.”

  “Alan, Alan,” Michael repeated. “Alan…”

  “What’s he talking about?” Jake hissed at Father McMillan.

  “He thinks Alan Brickton is the one who did this to him,” the priest said.

  Jake shook his head. “Is he delirious?” he asked.

  “I’m not a doctor,” Father McMillan began, “but I think he’s in shock. That could lead to some confusion I would think.”

  Jake ignored him. “Rick, get over here and help me with Michael.” Jake pushed the priests aside. “Michael, it’s Jake and Rick. We’ve got you buddy.”

  Michael looked at Jake with dark, haunted eyes. “I’m in my right mind,” Michael insisted. “It was Alan Brickton. He was…” and he couldn’t finish his sentence.

  “He what? What did he do?” Rick urged patiently.

  “He was trying to eat me.”

  Oh, hell, thought Jake. This kid’s done lost his shit. As if he could sense Jake’s distrust of what had happened to him, Michael shook his head. Pain was plastered across his face as he began to bleed from his neck.

  “Goddammit, I’m not crazy! The bastard is alive, grabbed me in the woods, and strung me up like a pig roast.” Suddenly Michael looked horrified.

  “What is it?” Rick asked.

  “Anna,” he whispered.

  “Anna?” Jake blurted out somewhat rudely. “What about her?”

  “She was in the woods with me. Is she okay?”

  “Michael, just take it easy. We’ll figure it all out when we get to the hospital,” Rick promised. He looked at Jake, who shrugged and nodded forward.

  “Let’s get out of this place,” Jake said.

  “But we’re supposed to stay here,” John said.

  “I don’t give two shits where we’re supposed to be,” Jake shouted. “Michael needs a doctor and I am not sticking around this place so we can end up like him.” He looked around at everyone. They seemed to be in agreement, so they began making their way back to the library.

  * * * * * *

  4

  Anna, David, and Anish stood quietly in the morgue staring at the body of Alan Brickton, which was covered by a thin white sheet. Anna was still unclear as to what Anish would be able to learn from studying the body, but she trusted that he knew was he was doing. It was rare that Anna had to call someone in from outside of Crimson Falls to offer assistance on a case. Most of what she dealt with was vandalism, theft, and your average run of the mill crimes you’d find in small town America.

  The institutional lighting and smell of formaldehyde made Anna feel slightly uncomfortable. She didn’t particularly care for hospitals, and being in a morgue didn’t offer a better experience. David lifted the sheet back, neatly folding it over Alan’s backside. Anna hadn’t expected him to be lying on his stomach. David was the first to speak.

  “See here,” he said as he pointed to Alan’s neck wound. “Tell me what you see.”

  “Something bit him,” Anish observed quickly. He leaned closer so that only a few inches separated his face from Alan’s neck.

  “And?” David asked.

  Anish looked up at David. “And whatever it was that bit him wasn’t human.”

  “What?” Anna said, surprised. Anish took both hands and gestured toward the wound, as if measuring its length.

  “See the length here? I do not think it is possible for a human to have that kind of vertical jaw height,” Anish said.

  “I don’t think I would have noticed that,” Anna confessed. “I thought he was struck by something and then stabbed, or vice versa.”

  “Did you measure the force of the bite?” Anish asked David.

  “I’m only in the preliminary stages,” David said defensively. “He’s only been dead for about four hours. And we’ve been somewhat busy.”

  “Of course,” Anish said apologetically. “I only ask because as you can tell, there are imprints of maxillary and mandibular molars. As well as bicuspids, cuspids, and both lateral and central incisors.”

  “Don’t most animals have teeth like humans?” Anna asked.

  “Indeed they do,” Anish said. “But different animals have different ways, and strengths, of biting. Some bit in different places, some at different angles. This is remarkably human, but there are a few differences.”

  Anna was amazed at Anish’s knowledge. “What exactly do you teach at the university?” she asked, a little embarrassed that she didn’t already know.

  “Physical and sociocultural anthropology,” Anish said. “I also teach Native American studies, especially those indigenous to the Midwest.”

  “I see,” Anna said. “I’m sorry to interrupt, please continue. You were speaking about the bite.”

  “Yes, there are a few differences. As I’ve already said, the size of the bite is atypical for humans. But it is not necessarily impossible. Also, the bite force looks to be much stronger than a human bite. I would say, by the looks of it, that whatever bit Alan has the jaw strength of a Rottweiler or a pit bull, perhaps stronger.”

  “And what of the weapon that was in his neck?” Anna asked.

  “That is what is most interesting,” Anish said. “It seems to me that the bite was made while he was still alive.”

  “I concur,” David agreed, taking over the conversation. “And the weapon was removed as if it would have been one of the teeth.”

  Anish picked up the bag with the weapon and studied it. “May I?” he asked.

  “Certainly,” David said. He grabbed three pairs of gloves so they could handle the weapon without contaminating it. Anish required extra large gloves, and even then it was a bit snug on his large hands. Once he had the gloves on he removed the weapon and tried to fit it inside one of the gashes in the wound on Alan’s neck. It was a perfect fit.

  “Well, you said you thought it was a tooth,” Anna recalled. “But I thought we also agreed that he wasn’t killed by an animal.” Anna reflected for a moment. What she came up with made her shudder.

  “What is it?” David asked her.

  “Do you think it’s possible that someone created some sort of weapon using sharp animal teeth?” she asked Anish.

  “Anything is possible,” he mused. “If that were the case, it would have to be attached to some sort of handles that could be manipulated to increase the force of the bite. Do you understand what I am saying?”

  A grizzly picture appeared in Anna’s mind of a psychotic man using an ingenious death device. Again, she shuddered. “Not pretty, is it?” she asked them.

  “Do you really think that is what we’re dealing with here?” David asked Anish.

  “No, I do not,” he replied while still investigating the tooth and Alan’s wound.

  “Then what do you think?” Anna asked. She was getting a bit frustrated. Anish was a nice man, but didn’t seem to want to divulge what he was thinking. “It’s okay if you’re just guessing,” she urged him. “At this point you’re the only person who seems to have any idea of what the hell is going on.”

  “I remain silent because I am gathering evidence and following where it leads,” Anish explained. “If you will just humor me for a little while longer, I
will then share with you what I think is happening.”

  Anna nodded, then turned to David. “Is there anything else interesting you can tell us about the body?”

  “Just that whatever did this drained a good bit of blood,” David said. “If you recall the crime scene, there was very little blood. It is almost as if the wound had been cauterized, but of course there is no sign of that.”

  Anish sighed deeply. Anna could tell he was lost in thought, and his expression unnerved her. Whatever he was thinking wasn’t good.

  “There isn’t much else I can tell you that will help us right now,” David acknowledged. “What’s your next move?” he asked Anna.

  “Anish?” she asked, giving him the floor.

  “I would like to go to the Brickton Estate.” Anna knew he was going to say that, and truth be told she wasn’t really looking forward to it.

  “Then let’s go,” she said. “David, I need you to stay here and try and figure out what you can. You know how to reach me.”

  “Sure thing, Anna,” he said, already returning to the body.

  As Anna and Anish walked out the door toward her cruiser, her radio came to life.

  “Sheriff? Sheriff, this is Jake. Come in, Sheriff.”

  “Hi, Jake. Bring me up to speed.”

  “Sheriff, we found the priests.”

  “Found the priests?” Anna asked, confused. “I didn’t know they were missing.”

  “Well, they were. And there’s more. We have Michael Mullins with us. He was abducted in the woods and brought to a secret underground hideout under the Brickton mansion.”

  “Copy,” Anna said, then grew silent. It took a moment for the news to sink in. She looked at Anish, who seemed unaffected by what he had heard. It was almost like he wasn’t surprised.

  “Sheriff?” Jake said after Anna remained quiet.

  “Bring him to the hospital,” Anna ordered. “But come around to the back where David’s office is. We’ll be here waiting for you. I will make sure Michael gets the medical attention he needs.”

  “Copy that,” Jake said.

  “Is he conscious?” Anna asked.

  “Well, yes and no,” Jake said with uncertainty.

  “What do you mean?”