Poole crossed his arms. “That wasn’t my fault and you know it. He blew up.”
“Damn straight he did. All over you.”
Frustrated, Poole said, “Ask the Doc. It could have happened to you, the Chief… anyone who found that body was in for it. The guy had been cooking on the shore for a week.”
“True, but you drew the short straw, Big Man. I heard he went up like a landmine. Boom!”
Deputy Poole looked at the coroner as if to say, ‘a little help here, please?’
Dr. Kent took the hint. “The body breaks down,” the coroner explained, hoping to diffuse the goodhearted ribbing Officer Poole was taking. “Internal organs start to decay, gas is produced. Jack’s right. Whoever was first to respond to the beached floater was likely going to experience what he did.”
Poole smiled at Officer Byers. “There you go!” he said. “Doc just explained it perfectly.”
“Sorry, Jack,” Pat replied. “It must have been tough, buddy.”
“It was,” Poole said.
“…picking gut shower out of your hair for a week.”
Deputy Poole threw his hands in the air and walked away.
Chief Jenkins laughed. “You’re a cruel man, Pat Byers.”
Byers smiled. “Hey, the Big Man’s always riding me,” he said. “I thought I’d have a little fun at his expense for a change.” He grabbed the dog’s collar. “Hey, boy. How about giving me a hand up?”
Kip pulled back and barked. Panting, he stared at his handler. Officer Button knew the meaning behind every sound his partner made as distinctly as he knew the sound of his own voice.
“He’s alerting,” Button said. “Move aside, Pat.”
Byers rose gingerly to his feet as Officer Button leashed Kip. “Good boy, Kipper,” he commanded. He teased the dog with the ball once more. “Ready?” Kip barked. “Search!”
The dog responded to the instruction and lunged forward, but only by a few feet. He pawed at the base of the Dumpster.
“Bin’s empty, Don,” Byers said. “Everything’s been removed and tagged. Right down to the last scrap of paper.”
“I don’t think Kip’s alerting to what’s in the bin,” Officer Button said. “He’s alerting to what’s under it.”
Button threw the ball and released the dog from duty. He knelt down and peered under the bin.
“Somebody hand me a pair of tweezers.”
Dr. Kent opened his field bag and passed the implement to him.
“Got it,” Button said as he slid his arm out from under the dumpster. A tiny metallic object was cinched between the pincers of the metal instrument. Dr. Kent offered an evidence bag. Button dropped the object into the plastic bag.
“Think that’s what Kip was alerting to?” Button asked the coroner.
Dr. Kent inspected the item. “Dental implant. Titanium. Serialized. I’ll have forensic odontology process it and run the number.”
“Think it belongs to Labrada?” Officer Button asked.
“I hope so,” Kent replied.
“You hope so?”
Dr. Kent nodded. “If it doesn’t we have an even bigger problem on our hands.”
“Multiple victims,” Chief Jenkins said.
“Exactly.”
Kip threw his ball in the air, watched it bounce, crouched, waited for it to roll a good distance, then raced after it, caught it in his mouth and threw it in the air a second time. He stopped in front of the Chief’s Jeep and watched the ball roll away. The dog barked twice, the second bark louder than the first, then lay on the ground.
“Looks like your partner’s ready to call it a day,” Byers said to Officer Button.
Kip barked three times. He looked over his shoulder in the direction of his handler.
Button stood and called out to his partner. “Kip, Mark!”
Kip barked.
“He’s alerting again, Chief.”
Chief Jenkins and Officer Byers walked to the dog. Button attached Kip’s leash to his body harness.
“I don’t see anything,” Byers said.
“The first thing you need to know about Kip is that he’s never wrong,” Officer Button said. “He’s on to something.” Button praised the dog then gave him his search command. Kip walked under the barrier tape and out of the crime scene area, passing the Chief’s Jeep and straining on his lead as he sniffed his way across the parking lot in the direction of the garage. He rounded the back of a black Porsche 911 and sat in front of its front bumper. The dog barked twice, then lay on the ground.
“This is it,” Office Button whispered. He grabbed Kip firmly by his collar and issued the dog a new command. “Kip… Set!”
The dog’s gentle disposition changed immediately. The shackles raised on the back of his neck. He dropped low, tensed on his lead, growled.
“Dog’s ready,” Chief.
The officers readied their weapons and trained them on the front trunk of the Porsche.
“Break the window,” the Chief demanded. “Pop the hood.”
Officer Byers removed a collapsible baton from his duty belt, snapped it open, smashed out the side window and opened the driver’s door. He located the hood release under the dashboard and pulled the handle.
Kip strained, snarled, barked and pulled. Officer Button maintained a firm grip on the dog’s collar as he tore at the ground with his powerful front legs.
Poole raised the hood.
Empty.
“Clear!” the Chief called out. The officers holstered their weapons.
“Kip, Steady,” Officer Button commanded. Kip relaxed and waited for his treat. Button rewarded the dog with his ball.
Byers looked at Officer Button. “What were you saying about Kip never being wrong?”
“He isn’t. My guess is that he was tracking residue, probably from the killer’s shoes.”
The Chief nodded. “I agree. Jack, run the plates. Pat, go back to the primary and grab a couple of guys from forensics. Tell them to go over the car bumper to bumper.”
“You got it, Chief.” Officer Poole radioed in Jenkins request for a license plate search to Command.
Chief Jenkins removed a pair of latex gloves from his pocket, snapped them on and carefully lowered the driver’s side sun visor. A plastic photo identification card with a metal belt clip fell onto the driver’s seat. He picked it up.
“Employee access card,” Jenkins said. “ID belongs to a Dr. Jason Merrick. Works at Dynamic Life Sciences.”
“I know the place,” Poole said. “Some kind of high-tech military research center. It’s about ten minutes from here.” Poole’s radio crackled.
“Command, 3250.”
Poole responded. “Go for 3250.”
“Vehicle identification is a 2015 Chevy Suburban, silver, registered to a Daniel Raymond Labrada, Riverside, California. No warrants.”
“3250. Copy.”
Poole looked at Chief Jenkins and back at the Porsche. “That ain’t no Suburban, Chief. Our guy switched plates.”
Jenkins nodded. “Run the vehicle identification number on the Porsche and get its plates on the air. Make sure everyone knows they’re looking for a Chevy Suburban and not a Porsche.” Chief Jenkins placed the identification card in a plastic evidence bag and began to walk toward his Jeep. He called out to Poole.
“Manage the scene, Jack. Get in touch with me the minute you hear something on that Suburban.”
“You got it, Chief. Where’re you headed?”
“Dynamic Life Sciences.” Jenkins replied. He held up the photo ID. “Dr. Merrick and I need to have a little chat.”
CHAPTER 19
LENNY RELEASED his grip on the terrified girl. Lauren ran to her brother.
Ben Egan called out to Lauren and Kevin. “You two, over here.”
Lauren picked up her pace as she ran. She had no idea who the stranger was, or where he had come from, but at this moment she didn't care. There was confidence and strength in his voice, and she knew instinctively that he would protect them.
Kevin walked cautiously towards the stranger. Colin chased after him. Kevin heard him approaching from behind and tried to outrun the older boy. Too late, the leader caught up to him and put his arm around his neck. Kevin struggled under Colin’s firm grip. The older boy drew the dagger from his back pocket and held it to his throat. Kevin felt the cold metal pressing against his skin. The razor edge of the blade cut him. A trickle of warm blood ran down his neck. He stopped resisting.
Colin maneuvered the boy in front of him. “Mister, I don’t know who you are,” he said, “but I’m telling you now, back off. I’ll gut this little shit like a pig. Right here, right now.”
“I don’t think so,” Ben Egan said.
Colin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Are you out of your mind, asshole?” He laughed. “Fine by me, man. Huge mistake… huge!”
The punk’s body language changed. His shoulders tightened, dropped his head, and shuffled from side to side, readying himself for the kill. Kevin moved with him, trying desperately to avoid the blade from cutting deeper. More blood ran from his neck. Kevin was more than just frightened now. He was terrified. He thought he might actually lose his water right then and there, maybe even soil his pants in front of the whole group. As if that mattered, he thought. In any second Colin would run the blade across his neck and cut him from ear to ear, maybe even cut his head clean off, and end his life. This was never supposed to have happened. The gang had told him the old factory was going to be a cool place to check out. They had insisted he bring his sister along. Stupid! Now, he had put both their lives in danger. Why the hell did he feel it was so important to impress Colin anyway? The older boy was nothing but trouble and had been all his life; His father had warned them to stay away from Colin Thackery and his delinquent family. He thought he could trust Lenny, that he was his friend. The two of them had played him for a fool. He had never felt close to death before. Why should he? He was only seventeen years old. Seventeen! Too young to die, especially here, in a dirty abandoned factory on the outskirts of town. His body was becoming weak from fear. His legs felt like jelly, and he was pretty sure they would be incapable of supporting him for very much longer. He couldn’t fight because he couldn’t move. Fear had left him physically incapacitated. He remembered hearing his grandmother whisper to his grandfather on his death bed; make your peace with God. So that’s what he did. Kevin prayed that at the very least his body would be found. He was going to miss so much; his mother and father, family movie nights, the choice between watching a comedy or a thriller (usually settled by an all-out popcorn fight), his sister, Lauren, pain in the butt that she was, his classmates at school, even his obscenely fat doorstop of a cat, Moose.
“Remember, this is all on you, pal,” Colin said to the stranger. Kevin felt Colin’s grip tighten. Resignation overtook his body. He waited for the end to come.
Colin started to groan.
Then the strangest thing happened.
Colin released his chokehold. The blade of the knife no longer pressed against his throat. Colin’s arm was extended in front of him now. It began to quiver then shake so violently that the knife dropped out of his hand. The blade clanged on the concrete floor. There was a cry in Colin’s voice, not one of upset, but of fear.
The man at the end of the factory spoke to Kevin. “Move away from him,” he said. “Come here now. Get behind me.”
Kevin ran to the stranger. He knew he had no good reason to trust him. For all he knew they had unwittingly stumbled into the hideout of a murderer who would kill them all sooner or later. Still, he ran. With his only two options being free of Colin or having the knife pressed to his throat the decision to run to the stranger seemed like the wisest choice.
When he was safely behind the stranger he turned and looked at Colin and his gang. The stranger was holding his hands out in front of him. On his wrist he wore a strange bracelet around which throbbed pulses of blue light. Kevin and Lauren watched the man raise his hands and open his fingers. The light from the bracelet turned from blue to orange. Colin and his gang started to yell and scream and looked down at their feet. They tried to move their legs, couldn’t. Their feet seemed to be glued to the floor. Lenny even tried to pull his feet out of his running shoes, without success.
“What are you doing to us, man” Colin cried out. “What are you?”
Ben Egan slowly raised his hands. The boys began to lift off the ground. They were now perhaps forty feet in the air, almost as high as the factory ceiling itself, screaming and flailing frantically. Droplets fell from Lenny as he felt his body press tightly against the roof of the factory. The pigeons that earlier had been frightened out of their sleep took flight once again among the steel girders and circled them madly, unsure what to make of the intruders in their midst. It was then that Kevin realized what the falling droplets were. The water was coming from Lenny. He had wet himself. Drops of urine splattered down upon the factory floor. One of the men had passed out from fear and hung limply in the air. The stranger dropped his hands to his side. The gang began to free fall, screaming as the ground rushed up to meet them. Lauren gasped and turned away, unable to bear witness to their imminent demise.
The stranger raised his hands quickly, faced his palms toward the ceiling, and halted their sudden descent. They hung in the air horizontally, facing the ground but unable to touch it, bodies frozen, unable to move. They were silent now. All of the fight had been drained out of them. Lenny peed again, then threw up.
Egan turned his palms to the floor and dropped his arms to his side. The gang fell the last couple of feet onto the floor of the warehouse.
Kevin stood beside Ben Egan. He watched as the glow from the metal band around his wrist dissipated, turning from light blue to white, and finally back to its original metallic appearance.
“Holy shit on a stick!” Kevin said. “Did you see that, Lauren? Did you?”
Egan looked at the boy. “Language, son,” he said.
“Oh, sure, whatever you say, mister,” Kevin said. “But… I mean… that was the coolest thing I’ve ever… how did you… holy sh--… I mean… holy crap!”
“Both of you wait here,” Egan said.
Lauren began to walk after Ben Egan. Kevin grabbed his sister and pulled her back. “Seriously, Lauren?” Kevin said. “Didn’t you just see him lift those guys off the ground? What part of wait here didn’t you understand? Duh!”
Egan walked across the factory to where the thugs lay sprawled on the floor. Colin looked at the ceremonial dagger laying a few feet in front of him, then up at Egan.
“You sure you want to do that?” Egan asked.
Colin’s face was purple. He was seething with rage and embarrassment at being so completely and utterly dominated by the supernatural powers of the stranger. He lunged for the knife.
Egan waved his hand. The dagger lifted off the ground and streaked through the air with such velocity its blade penetrated deep into a wooden support column on the opposite side of the factory.
Egan looked at the gang as they gathered themselves up off the floor.
“Coming here was a mistake,” he told them. “I can’t let you leave.”
Lenny pleaded with Egan. His pants were soaked in urine. A string of vomit hung from his chin. He wiped it away with his coat sleeve. “Look, man,” he said. “It’s all good. Just let us go. I swear to God no one’s gonna talk.”
“Shut up, Lenny!” Colin ordered.
Lenny continued. “We’ll just walk outta here and leave you alone, mister. No problem. We don’t want any trouble.”
“It’s a little too late for that,” Egan replied.
Colin looked over his shoulder at Lenny. “Shut up you whiney little prick.”
The band on Egan’s wrist flashed bright blue. He waved his hand at Colin. Suddenly the punk was unable to speak. He grabbed his throat. The blood drained from his face. His lips began to turn blue.
“He’s choking,” Lenny yelled. He took a step toward Egan and r
aised his fist. “You’re killing him, man! Let him go!”
Egan turned toward Lenny. Once more his feet became rooted to the factory floor. This time he didn’t bother to struggle.
Egan walked up to Colin, grabbed his chin, pulled it up and stared into his eyes. The gang leader tried unsuccessfully to hold his gaze. Eyes watering, he struggled to catch his breath. Egan’s eyes were cold, dark and vacant, as though they were not the eyes of a human being capable of superhuman acts but those of a predator; a great white shark perhaps, well-practiced in circling its prey before moving in for the kill.
“I should kill you,” Egan said, “Every one of you.”
Colin’s eyes began to close.
“You brought the girl here to kill her. Maybe rape her, too?”
Colin started to lose consciousness. His body fell slack.
Egan lowered his body to the floor and whispered in his ear. “That was it, wasn’t it?”
Weakly, Colin nodded.
Egan stood up. He waved his hand.
The constriction Colin’s neck abated. He sucked in deep breaths of air. The color slowly began to return to his face. He gasped, choked, gasped again.
Egan looked down upon the pathetic bully huddled at his feet, curled in a fetal position. “There’s something I want you to remember,” he said.
Colin tended to the crushing pain in his throat. He looked up at Egan, breathing heavily.
“Ten seconds,” Egan said. “Say it.”
Colin swallowed. “Wh-what?”
“You heard me. Say it.”
Colin forced out the words. “Ten… s-seconds.”
“Good,” Egan said. “Don’t ever forget it. That’s about as much time as you had left. Now get up.” He pointed in the direction of the drying kiln and addressed the gang. “All of you,” he said, “Over there. Move.”
Colin slowly rose to his feet.
Egan stopped Colin as he walked past. “I’m not finished with you yet,” he said. Egan pressed his finger against his chest. “Now you know what I’m capable of. If you ever threaten those kids again I’ll find you, no matter where you are. And when I do I’m going to take those ten seconds back. Do we understand each other?"
The Sin Keeper Page 9
