Blood in the Marsh (20 page)

“What do you mean you’re not sure?”

“Well, just think about it, Chels. First, we have some guys who grab Patty and me and drag us off. They rape and kill her but all they do to me is find out if I’m a virgin or not. Then Lucius’ diary tells about this vampire who’s been alive god knows how long, who rapes and kills a virgin just before he steals some poor guy’s body. There are some strange parallels there, wouldn’t you say?”

Chelsey shuddered and hugged herself. “God, you’re right! Lyra, what if it is true? What if there really are vampires and what if one is here on the island? What if…”

“What if we go fix some lunch and hear what Nick has to say before we work ourselves up in a knot over this?”

Chelsey grabbed her nail polish, and followed Lyra to the kitchen. Lyra made a plate of sandwiches and put them on the table. She was just pouring glasses of iced tea when Nick walked in.

His face wore an expression she could not identify but she didn’t say anything about it. She set the plates on the table and handed him a glass of tea. He gave her a quick smile that looked forced and sat down, eating in silence.

Michael came in a few moments later. His disposition was much the same as Nick’s, except he didn’t look at anyone. Keeping his eyes downcast, he sat down and ate.

Lyra couldn’t even think about eating. Her stomach was in knots from just the oppressive atmosphere Nick and Michael were creating with their silence. They finished and she quickly cleaned up the table.

“Anyone want coffee or anything?”

“I’ll take a drink,” Michael said as he stood up.

He walked into the den and crossed to the bar. Filling a shot glass to the rim with bourbon, he tossed it back then poured another but left it untouched on the bar.

Lyra sat down on the couch and Chelsey perched on one of the wing chairs as Nick walked to the bar and leaned over to whisper something in Michael’s ear. Michael nodded and polished off the second drink then turned around.

Nick walked over and sat down beside Lyra. “There’re some things I think you should know. It’s kind of complicated and it’ll take a little time, so bear with me.”

She nodded and said nothing. Michael walked over and took a chair across from the couch. He and Nick exchanged a look then Nick looked back at Lyra. “You remember I told you I was in the service?”

“Yes.”

“Well, there are a few things I left out. I entered as an officer, straight out of the Naval Academy. That’s when I met Michael. He and I joined up at the same time. We got to know each other during training and both of us were offered the chance to go into special services.”

He leaned back and stared at Michael, seeing a look of pain pass over his face. “Renee and I were going to be married before I left for the training school. She and her sister, Cari met me at the base. I was surprised that Cari had come. I introduced her to Michael and before the weekend was up not only was I married but so were Cari and Michael.”

“You’re married?” Chelsey looked at Michael. “You’re married and you just didn’t bother to mention it?”

Lyra remembered Nick telling her that Cari was dead and she could see from the look on Michael’s face that listening to Nick talk about those times was very painful. Before she realized it, she snapped at Chelsey.

“Chels! Would you shut up and let him finish?”

Michael gave her a surprised look and she smiled slightly then turned her attention back to Nick. “Go on, please.”

“Well, like I was saying, we got married and then two days later Michael and I were off to the training school. To make it short, we didn’t see much of our wives for a while, but we managed to get in a couple of weekend passes. After we finished our training, we were assigned to the Pentagon, Navy Intelligence. Our team was, let’s say, a special team and I can’t tell you anymore than that about it.”

“You mean like spies or something?” Chelsey asked wide-eyed.

Nick gave her a frown and didn’t answer her question. “That was in 1998 We were called in on an investigation. A very strange and hush-hush investigation.

“The U.S. Navy frigate Samuel B. Roberts was patrolling the Persian Gulf. Three days out of port a crewman was found dead in his quarters. His throat had been punctured. The ship’s doctor, upon examination, discovered that almost all of the blood in the man’s body was gone. Not sprayed on the walls or puddled on the floor, but gone. It didn’t take long for the news to circulate among the crew and as you can imagine the tension started to build. But after a couple of weeks things started to settle down and the crew was getting back to normal. Then it happened again. Another man was found dead, this time his body discovered in the latrine. Just like before, his body was almost devoid of blood.

“The captain tried to keep it quiet but it’s hard to keep anything quiet on a ship. His investigation of the first death had netted nothing and he felt like it was time to call for help. The orders came through and the brass decided to send in a special team to investigate. Two men were chosen to go in undercover as regular crewmen. Only the captain was aware of their identity and mission.

“Michael and I were the ones sent in. We were airlifted to the frigate and reported in for duty. Michael was assigned to communications and I was posted to navigation. We were there for two weeks, nosing around and trying to come up with a lead on who the killer was. But we couldn’t find anything.

“During that time we got to know one of the other guys, a fellow by the name of Duncan Stevens. Duncan was a big blond-haired guy from California who had enlisted thinking he would travel to all the great beaches and do some killer surfing. But once he got in, he got hooked and was one of the best sonar men around.”

Nick looked over at Michael and Michael nodded, letting memories flood his mind. “Yeah, he was a hell of a guy, that Duncan. Not for shit at playing cards but could read a sonar like an artist.”

April 1998

Nick and Michael sat at a table in the mess hall with Duncan and a guy from engineering by the name of Greg Roberts. Drinking coffee so thick and black it would fuel the ship, they played poker and joked about Duncan surfing behind the ship.

“Heard the latest poop?” Duncan asked.

The others shook their heads and waited for Duncan to relay the gossip. Along with being the best sonar man on board he was also the biggest gossip hound. Nothing got by Duncan, he had sonar ears.

“Well, the way I hear it our boys spotted an Iraqi ship trying to lay down mines. Called in a couple of choppers and blasted ’em halfway to hell and back. But they’re keeping it quiet, if you get my drift. Iraqis are acting like it never happened.”

Nick shook his head and upped the bet. Michael called and took a drink of coffee. “Duncan, when you get out you really ought to go into the tabloid business or write a gossip column. I’ve never seen anyone who can dig up shit the way you can.”

Duncan grinned and played his hand, losing again. “Shit, man, when I get out I’m gonna find me a cute little beach bunny and make lots of little surfing rabbits and chill in the warm sun. What about you guys? Either of you married?”

Michael smiled and pulled a picture of Cari from his pocket and showed it to Duncan. “My wife.”

Duncan wiggled his eyebrows. “Man, if I had a babe like her I wouldn’t let her outta my sight. Get your ass outta here and go home and make some babies!”

Michael laughed and put his picture away after another look at it. Duncan looked over at Nick. “So, man—what’s your story. You got a wife or what?”

“Or what?” Nick replied. He had no desire to discuss his marital status, which at that moment was in the toilet. A week before being sent to the Roberts he had found out Renee had been having an affair for six months.

“Sounds like it could be a long sad story, dude. Why don’t you tell Uncle Duncan all about it?”

Nick opened his mouth to tell Duncan to drop it but was drowned out as a call came over the speakers from the bridge for Duncan to report.

“Well, duty calls, dudes.” Duncan smiled and stood up. “Gotta go show these wimps how to stroke a sonar. Just like a woman, you know. Stroke ‘em just right and they’ll give you anything you want.”

Michael and Nick chuckled and Roberts tossed his cards down in disgust. “I’ve had it. If I drink one more cup of that mud I’m gonna puke. See you guys later.”

They picked up the cards and walked back to the crew quarters. Michael sat down on his bunk and frowned.

Nick looked over at him with a puzzled expression. “What?”

“Got a bad feeling.”

Hearing Michael say that gave Nick a bad feeling. Most people didn’t put much stock in such things, but whenever Michael got a bad feeling you could bet that something was wrong.

Another call rang out for Duncan to report to the bridge immediately. Nick and Michael looked at one another for a moment then took off running back the way they had come. They ran into the mess hall and looked around then headed for the bridge, checking every nook and cranny along the way. Finding nothing by the time they arrived at the bridge, they backtracked.

They stopped at the mess hall then ran to the galley. “Hey! Cookie!” Michael yelled. “Seen Duncan around?”

The head cook shook his head. “Nope, just came on.”

Michael and Nick searched the galley. As Nick walked by the meat locker, he paused. Thinking it was a long shot he pulled open the door. “Oh shit! Michael! Over here!” Duncan lay on the floor of the locker. He had been stabbed once in the throat just under the left ear. His face was drained of color, his lips were blue, and his eyes stared sightlessly ahead with a frozen look of surprise and fear stamped in them.

Michael groaned and knelt down beside the body. “Son of a bitch! We’ve got to get this bastard, Nick, and lock him away.”

Nick stood up and stared down at the body. “I’d rather just put him away permanently, if you know what I mean.”

“That’s not what we’re here for,” Michael reminded him. “We’ve got to do this by the book.”

“By the book?” Nick looked at him. “For Christ’s sakes! This bastard doesn’t even know there is a book! Look at him, Mike! A few minutes ago, he was alive and talking about having babies. Now he’s just a slab of bloodless meat on the floor. And you want to talk rules? Well, fine. You find the son of a bitch and you can lock his ass up. But if I find him I’m gonna blow his ass away.”

Michael shook his head and Nick turned and walked away. He looked at the cook who was standing in the door to the locker with round eyes. “Call the captain and the doctor, Cookie.”

The Present—Sea Island

Nick fell silent and Lyra stared at him, seeing the anger stamped on his face. Then she looked at Michael and saw tears standing in his eyes.

Michael stood up and went to the bar, getting a couple of shot glasses and the bottle of bourbon. He sat down and poured two shots, handing one to Nick. They touched their glasses together.

“To Duncan,” Michael said.

Both of them downed the liquor then Michael settled back in his chair. Now that the story was unfolding, he felt like he might as well let it all out.

“Duncan’s death was the worst thing I’d ever experienced at that point in my life. I remember sitting in the mess all night, going over everything time after time, trying to get an idea of how it could have happened. By morning, I wasn’t any closer to solving it than when I started. I finally gave up and lay down and the next thing I knew it was midafternoon. I got up and started looking for Nick and…”

April 1998—Persian Gulf

Nick was nowhere to be found so Michael wandered down to the galley thinking that maybe he should have another look around. Maybe he had missed something before. As usual, Cookie was running the galley in short shouts, doing three things at the same time. He stopped as Michael walked in and watched him look around. “Everything’s been scrubbed and polished. All ship shape.”

Michael sat down at the small table Cookie kept along with the bulkhead and sighed. “Think I can get a cup of decent coffee?”

Cookie grinned and poured Michael a cup of his special brew and one for himself. Michael sipped it and sighed. “Cookie, you ever decide to give up the life of a galley rat and you could make a fortune in the restaurant business. Your coffee alone would make you a rich man.”

“Yeah, well, what would an old fart do with a lot of money? Been in the navy all my life, it seems. Now I can’t sleep without the sound of the engines in my head. Guess I’ll just stay where I am.”

Michael put his cup down and leaned his head in his hands. “All that blood,” he mumbled to himself.

“What?” Cookie gave him a funny look.

“I said all that blood. Where did it go? That’s over five quarts!”

Cookie made a face and yelled to one of the hands. “Hey! Stir that soup!”

Michael looked over at him. “What’re you fixing?”

“Tomato soup.”

Michael grimaced. “Tomato? Kind of red, isn’t it?”

Cookie’s eyes widened as he thought about Duncan and the missing five liters of blood. “Crap! Hey! Dump that soup and get me some chickens out of the locker!”

Michael shook his head and stood up. Better find Nick before Nick finds the killer.