Protector (62 page)
Authors: Laurel Dewey
Tags: #Police Procedural, #Denver (Colo.), #Mystery & Detective, #Psychic ability, #Women detectives, #Crime, #Suspense, #Women Sleuths, #Children of murder victims, #Fiction, #Occult & Supernatural, #Espionage
Gradually, she moved forward, dislodging her body from the massive pillows that surrounded her. She crept along the closet floor on her knees, stopping every few inches to listen for anything that sounded suspicious. She crawled outside the closet and knelt at her open bedroom door, bending her head around the edge. The front door was, indeed, wide open. All the lights in the living room were on, casting an odd shadow across the stairway that led to Emily’s bedroom door. The wind howled outside, moaning and whirring like a distant siren. Her eyes glanced down at the carpeting that led from her door down the stairs. Cherry juice, she kept thinking to herself. Somebody spilled cherry juice.
She drew her body to a standing position and craned her head around the door. “Mommy?” she said, in a half-whisper. The wind responded with a punishing gale that slapped the sycamore tree branch hard against her bedroom window. Emily jumped at the sudden crash. The wind died down and she turned back toward the stairs. “Daddy?” she said, this time a little louder, her voice tightening with fear.
All was silent.
Emily carefully made her way onto the landing and looked down into the brightly lit living room. The staircase and hallway wall obscured her full view of the scene. “Mommy?” she said, her voice shaking. She started down the staircase, purposely walking to the side of the crimson footprints that stained the carpeting. Her right hand cupped the banister. Emily stepped down two more steps and then another three. She grabbed the banister with all her might as she felt the air being sucked from her lungs. The gruesome scene lay in front of her.
At first, she couldn’t connect to it. Her father was facedown in a growing pool of his own blood. His head was turned just enough so that Emily could see his throat slashed down to the bone and muscle. Emily watched as pinpoint jets of blood issued forth from where the knife entered his aorta. The scarlet puddle of blood crept across the carpet toward Emily’s mother who lay face up within arm’s reach of her husband.
Emily noticed that her head was positioned slightly off-center due to the deep cut across her throat that wound its way up to her right ear. Exposed tissue and muscle fused with the blood that poured forth from over seventy stab wounds to her face.
Emily stared at her mother’s face. Patricia’s right eye stared back at her daughter while the left eye dangled outside of its socket. Her mouth was open and frozen in an awkward, lopsided position. The upper lip had been sliced off completely, opaquely revealing her front teeth and upper gum that were shadowed by the thick veil of plasma and serum draining from her mouth.
A violent burst of wind blew through the front door, upsetting loose papers and a single silk flower that danced in its vase. Emily walked down the stairs until she reached the wooden floor by the entry. Silently, she walked toward her parents, stopping only inches from the expanding vermilion pool. The wind exaggerated the scent of death—an acrid blend of urine, feces and fear. Gradually, the puddle of blood inched toward Emily’s toes, encircling her bare skin. It felt warm and strangely comforting at first to the child. She dropped her head and followed the gory trail as the blood from her mother’s body curled around her right heel and joined with the blood from her father’s body that quickly surrounded her left foot. For one, unexplainable second, Emily felt safe.
But then, the graphic horror of the scene gripped her body. Far in the distance, she heard a bloodcurdling scream—the same scream that had tricked her memory since the murder. The scream loomed closer, growing in intensity and terror. Suddenly, in one shock of energy, the scream was no longer outside of Emily, but inside of her. It plunged into her throat and projected its horrific timbre into the air.
Emily continued screaming, as she turned on her heels in a frenzied attempt to reach the staircase. But the blood against her bare feet caused her to slip. She fell, landing palms down in the red puddle between her two parents. Blood splattered against the front of her nightgown. The shock drilled through her body and she lost control of her bladder. Emily frantically spun around on her knees and crawled toward the staircase, still screaming at the top of her lungs. Once she reached the first step, she struggled to her feet and fled up the stairs to her bedroom. She flung her body into the closet, swinging the door closed behind her. The door didn’t quite make it shut, allowing an inch of light to seep through into the safety of the closet. Emily screamed like a wild child as she pressed her body against the back wall of the closet. Her heart raced and her respiration reached hyperventilation as the walls caved in.
Without realizing it, Emily was now back in the hall closet, secured shut by the chair that Heather had wedged under the knob. Her terrified screams filled the house, drawing the visiting girls one by one out of the living room and back into the hallway. Heather turned to the group with a mischievous smile and let out a mocking scream to match Emily’s wail. The other girls, save for Mary, quickly joined in as the house shook with their shrill, contemptuous screeching.
Jane, still standing outside in the backyard, darted to the back door. She instinctively grabbed for her gun and came up empty-handed. “Emily!” Jane yelled, as she attempted to open the sliding glass door. However, the wooden dowel that Heather placed along the tracks prevented any movement.
Almost simultaneously, Dan drove by the house, immediately noting the coded warning sign of the porch and garage light turned on together. He screeched his truck to a halt, slammed it into park and bolted from the vehicle. The piercing screams from inside the house spilled onto the street. He reached into the bed of his truck and brought out a baseball bat. His mind raced with the various scenarios as he sprinted toward the front door. The house was pitch dark inside, except for the eerie glow of Emily’s Starlight Starbright projector illuminating the living room. Dan threw open the screen door and tried the front door only to find it locked. He slammed his body full force against the door in an attempt to enter the house, but nothing budged. Inside, the shrieking chorus persisted. He slammed the baseball bat against the glass windowpane in the center of the front door. It took only three hard swings of the bat before the front pane completely disintegrated.
Inside, the crashing glass shocked the girls. Their fake screams turned very real as they saw Dan’s arm reach through the broken glass to unlock the door. Jane reacted to the piercing sound of breaking glass and tore around the house. Dan successfully unlocked the front door and burst into the house. The girls backed themselves into a tight group and continued their terrified shrieks.
Not knowing what he was about to encounter, Dan slammed his bat against the wall. “Get outta here, you son-of-a-bitch!” Dan yelled into the darkness. Jane was halfway around the house when she heard Dan’s chilling words echo into the night air.
Dan slapped his hand across the light switch, flicking it on and then raising the bat above his head in a predatory stance. The burst of light flooded the hallway as the girls’ screams escalated. He froze with the baseball bat raised high in the air. In a matter of seconds, he tried to sort out everything. There were the girls packed tightly against the hallway wall. There was the chair propped up against the hall closet and the muffled screams of Emily trapped inside. “What in the hell’s goin’ on?” he shouted.
The girls’ shrieking petered out as Heather yelled, “We’re playing a game!”
“Who else is in here?” Dan yelled.
“Nobody!” Heather said with a bratty tone.
Dan looked toward the closet and the muffled screams. “Who’s in there?”
“That’s Patty!” Mary replied, as Heather shot her a dirty look.
Dan heard rapid footsteps racing toward the front of the house. He turned, baseball bat ready to strike, just as Jane leapt into the house.
“What the fuck happened?” Jane screamed, out of breath and terrified.
“It’s okay!” Dan assured her, putting down the bat.
“The fuck it’s okay!” Jane yelled back. She quickly scanned the broken glass, the band of girls and immediately reacted to Emily’s screams. “Oh, God!” Jane raced down the hallway toward the closet and attempted to pull the chair from underneath the doorknob. Unfortunately, Heather had wedged the chair so tightly, it seemed glued onto the door. “Emily! It’s okay!” Jane yelled, not realizing she used the child’s real name. Emily’s horrific cries continued from inside the closet. “I’m getting you out of there!”
The girls watched the scene, not knowing what to make of Jane’s intense reaction. Dan came to Jane’s aid and the two of them were able to finally knock the chair from its locked position. Jane threw the chair down the hallway so hard it skidded out the open front door. She started to open the hallway door, but it was stuck shut.
“Goddamnit!” Jane screamed in frustration, pulling on the door.
“Let me try!” Dan offered, doing his best to jerk open the door.
“Emily!” Jane yelled into the door. “It’s okay! It’s okay!”
Heather whispered “Emily?” to the girl standing next to her.
Dan continued to pull with all his strength but the door was frozen shut. Jane spelled him while Emily’s terrified shrieks continued to reverberate inside the closet. “Fuck this door!” Jane slammed her hand against the door. “Who put her in here?” No one said a word. “Who did it?” Jane yelled, yanking with every last bit of energy.
“It’s starting to budge!” Dan announced. He took over and with one final pull, the door swung open.
Jane saw Emily cowering against the back wall of the closet, screaming and holding her hands out to ward off what she thought was an oncoming intruder. “Get away from me!” Emily screamed as Jane moved toward her.
“Emily! It’s me! It’s alright!” Jane said, trying to grab onto the child.
Emily flailed her arms in the air, several times making contact with Jane’s body, in an attempt to keep her away. “No! I saw you!” Emily shrieked. “I saw you what you did! Get away! Get away!!”
Jane was able to gently subdue the terrified child. “Emily! It’s me! You’re safe!”
Emily felt Jane’s heart beat against her chest and finally realized where she was and who was holding her. Her screaming stopped, replaced by hyperventilation. Within seconds, Emily’s body started to shake uncontrollably as she went into convulsive sobs. Jane held tightly onto the child, all too aware of what was happening.
Dan ducked into the closet, kneeling down next to Jane and Emily. “Sweetheart,” Dan said softly, stroking Emily’s head, “it’s okay. You’re alright.”
“Hey, look,” Heather said quietly in the background. “She peed all over herself.” Jane felt her blood boil as she kept a tight grip on Emily. “That is so gross!” Heather said in a hushed, mocking tone.
Jane held even tighter onto Emily. Emily lost control of her bladder again.
“Darlin’, it’s alright,” Dan assured Emily in a tender voice. “Your mom’s right here, sweetie.”
“That’s not her mother,” Heather said in full voice.
Jane’s stomach tightened. Her emotions raced between outrage and fear of being discovered by a boorish ten-year-old girl. She placed Emily into Dan’s arms, stood up and turned around to face the girls. Jane stared at Heather. “You did this to her, didn’t you?” Heather remained silent, staring down Jane like a gunfighter. “Answer me!”
Dan looked up at Jane, sensing an imminent explosion. “Jane?”
“If you’re not her mother, who are you?” Heather asked, refusing to be cowed. “If her name is Patty, how come you’re calling her Emily? And if your name is—”
Jane lunged toward Heather. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?” The girls spread out down the hallway. Jane was only inches away from grabbing Heather’s neck when Dan yanked her backward and away from the kid.
“Jane!” Dan screamed. “Let it go! Let it go!”
“She wanted the dance trophy, Mrs. Calver!” Mary piped up.
“Shut up, Mary!” Heather shrieked.
“She locked Emily in the closet and made me steal the trophy out of Patty’s . . . Emily’s bedroom!” Mary continued, determined to spill the beans but feeling as confused as the rest of them. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Calver! I didn’t want to do it. I put it in Heather’s duffel bag, just like she told me to!” Mary turned to Emily. “And don’t worry about wetting your pants. Sometimes I do it, too.” Mary looked at Heather. “So there!”
Jane was disgusted with everything she was hearing. She turned to Dan. “Get these brats out of here.” Jane lifted Emily from the closet and carried her into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Emily clung tightly to Jane as she placed her on the closed toilet seat. The child was still shaking and breathing heavily. “It’s okay. Come on, we have to change your clothes.”
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