Caterpillar, a Paranormal Romance With a Touch of Horror (32 page)

There was a seventy-some inch television that was to be conveyed with the house.  It was fixed to one wall.  And it was on.  It was tuned in to a channel that showed the programming of a popular televangelist, Ronnie Hahn, who claimed he could heal the sick and afflicted. 

As he appeared on the television, he was chanting over an elderly gentleman.  Then, with a loud “hallelujah”, he put his fingers to the old man’s forehead and pushed, sending him back into the waiting arms of the two men behind him.  I believed in healing, but only the divine or medical kind.  Ronnie Hahn performed neither in my opinion. 

I turned from the television and that’s when I noticed it—the tangy, coppery smell.  Just then Mr. Donovan pushed past me into the room.  He yanked off the red carnation and held it out in front of his body.  His odd behavior was the least of my concerns at that moment, my eyes having adjusted to the dim lighting.

Hanging in one dark corner of the media room, in front of a wall of built-in shelving, was a body—a skinned body.  It was hanging by the throat like a dead deer and had been skinned the same way, from the neck down.  The face, contorted in whatever pain he’d felt just before death, was identifiable.  It was Ronnie Hahn, the man on the big screen. 

As I’d seen a couple of times before, there was a hole where his heart had once lain.  My eyes traveled the rest of his length, past the blood dripping from his fingertips to the pile of skin that was still attached to his feet at one end.  On the floor directly in front him was the rebirth symbol, drawn in blood.  I knew then that I hadn’t been able to save the next victim; he was hanging in front of me.  Dead.

My eyes traveled back up the lifeless limbs of his body to the rope from which he hung.  A huge hook had been screwed into one of the rafters to support the body.  The letters S-A-R-D-I-S were written in a semicircle on the ceiling tiles around it. 

I flipped open my phone and dialed Tegan’s number.  As I listened to the ringing on the other end, I marveled at my composure.  I’d learned quickly the evil that men do and had hardened accordingly. 

“Tegan.”

“It’s Cat.  There’s another body.”

“Where are you?”

I gave him the address and flipped the phone closed.  No time for niceties. 

I slipped the phone back into my purse and turned my attention to Mr. Donovan.  He was standing close to the body with the red carnation aimed at it, muttering quietly to himself.  I stepped closer to him and listened.

“... and his videos were playing when we entered the room.”  He moved slowly around the body then pointed the carnation down at the Mr. Hahn’s skin-covered feet.  “His skin is still attached at the feet.  His heart could be under there, but there’s no way to know.  I can only assume that his killer took it as part of some sort of ritual or trophy.  Like the others.”

As I watched and listened, it finally dawned on me where I’d seen Mr. Donovan.  He was actually Wade, the camera man from Channel Nine News, the one I’d met at the open house. 

In my head, I could hear the mental click, click, click of pieces falling into place.  The flower obviously had some sort of camera in it.  He was filming.  That’s why he moved the way he did, all stiff.  He was aiming the camera on his chest, trying to catch something on film.  

Well, you got it, buddy!
  I thought.

The sting of temper burned in my cheeks the more I thought about his deception.  I stomped over to “Mr. Donovan”, grabbed his arm and pulled with all my might, whirling him around to face me. 

“
Mr. Donovan,
I think it’s time we go back upstairs and wait for the police.  They’ll be here any minute.  And you can probably stop filming.  I doubt they’ll let you leave here with that footage.  I hope you’ve wasted
your
time as much as you’ve wasted
mine
.”

I looked into his wide, glazed eyes.  I suspected he was experiencing a mixture of adrenaline and shock.  “Who put you up to this?  Was it Bounty?”  Two red stains appeared on his cheeks, giving me my answer.  “I figured.”  I turned and stomped toward the stairs, looking back over my shoulder to see if he was following.  “Let’s go,” I prompted when I saw that he wasn’t moving. 

He jumped slightly then walked over to where I was and we ascended the stairs together.  We went to the front door to await the police. 

I opened the front door to get some fresh air as we waited.  I saw the first of the cavalry turn into the driveway.  It was in the form of a blue sedan with tinted windows.  Another click resounded in my head as I realized that was who’d been following me the previous day—Newman and Panelli. 

Of course!  They think I’m a killer.  Why wouldn’t they have put a tail on me?
 

I really couldn’t blame them.  The circumstances had been suspicious from day one.  And, unfortunately, the case against me was only getting stronger by the day.  By the hour, even.

“Detectives,” I said with what little smile I could manage.  “Excellent timing. 
Mr. Donovan
here, aka Wade from Channel Nine News, was just filming a murder scene.  Would you like to see it before you cuff him?”

My smile became more genuine when I saw the color leach from Wade’s face. 

“So helpful, Ms. Deen.  It’s almost like you’ve been through this before,” Panelli said in a rare moment of loquaciousness.  I stared at him in shock for a second.  It was the first time he’d spoken and I was surprised by the high pitch.  It sounded like someone had a death grip on his testicles, the tenor very much in contrast to his intimidating looks. 

“Strange, isn’t it Officer Panelli?” 

Soon, the rest of the circus arrived, freeing Newman and Panelli to go check out the crime scene.  When they’d had a chance to look it over, they returned to me and Wade for questioning.  They separated us, Newman escorting me to a barstool at the kitchen island. 

Tegan arrived just as Newman was finishing.  Newman left me and went to meet Tegan at the door.  They talked quietly with one another for a minute then Tegan broke away and headed over to me.

He stopped a few feet in front of me, looking a little uncomfortable, like he was struggling for something to say.  “Sorry about this morning,” he finally said.

My emotional pendulum swung from angry to insulted and back again.  “Why?  Oh, do you mean because you took me out into the middle of nowhere then disappeared, leaving me with a total stranger to take me home?  Why would that bother me?”

I watched his eyes darken.  He took a step closer to me and then he spoke, his voice a low, rough whisper.  “After spending the night just a few feet away from you, with the smell of your body surrounding me, with the taste of your blood still on my tongue, I had to get out of there before I did something stupid.” 

His eyes dropped to my lips and they tingled as if he’d touched them.  Warmth blossomed in my belly, my reaction to him profound even in the midst of death such as we were.  “I-I didn’t even think of that.  I’m sorry,” I said, my voice sounding breathless even to my own ears.

The jingle of his cell phone broke the spell.  He checked the number then turned away from me to answer it.  I could hear the change in his voice.  It became lightly flirtatious.  I felt a jealous pinch somewhere deep in my chest. 

When he turned back to me, I looked at him as if to say, “Well?” 

“That was Megan.  She’s got the nose of a bloodhound.”

A response was on the tip of my tongue, but the jingle of
my
cell phone interrupted us.  It was Scott.

Mimicking Tegan, I turned away to answer it, but kept the flirtatiousness to a minimum considering that I was making plans to meet him to break up.

When I turned back to him, I smiled my most innocent smile and said, “Scott.”

Tegan’s features clouded over instantly.  I preempted him before he could say anything.  “Are they finished with me?  I really need to leave as soon as I can.  I’ve got a lunch appointment.”

“With Newly,” he said, no small amount of disapproval and distaste in his voice.

“As a matter of fact, yes, it’s with Scott.  Not that it’s any of your business.”

Anger burned in his eyes, there for me to see only for an instant before his usual serious mask slid into place, hiding all emotion from my discerning eyes.  “In that case, you are free to go, Ms. Deen,” he said, his voice and his body language detached and formal.

He turned and walked away, stopping to speak with Panelli.  Then without a backward glance, he walked through the open door down into the basement.

A dull ache settled in my chest.  I chalked it up to dread over what I faced with Scott.

I explained to Newman that I was leaving; he nodded his approval.  I made my way out of the house and to my SUV. 

On the drive to meet Scott, I thought of Tegan.  As usual, I couldn’t seem to get him out of my head.  I remembered his strange reaction to my question.   
It has to be. 
Why did it have to be me?  And why did that make him so angry?

By the time I arrived at the restaurant, I still had no answers.  I walked in and saw Scott at a table by the fireplace.  The maitre d recognized me and walked around his little podium to escort me to the table. 

I tried to push Tegan out of my mind and focus on the task, and the man, at hand.  I looked at Scott, appreciating his handsome face and dapper suit of black with a bronze shirt and tie.  The color matched his eyes almost perfectly and made his skin look even more golden, but none of it made me burn like Tegan.  It was then that I knew without a doubt that I was making the right decision.

I sat and we engaged in small talk for a few minutes before Scott surprised me by broaching the subject.  “Cat, I think we should see other people.”

He could’ve knocked me over with a feather.  I had stressed and worried over breaking his heart and dreaded doing what needed to be done and there he was, breaking up with me.  “W-why?”

I should’ve just gone along with it.  After all, it was the end result I was looking for, too.  But my foolish pride got in the way and wrested control of my tongue.

“I just don’t think it’s working out.  I don’t feel like you’re into us, like you’re committed to making it work,” he said, actually hitting the nail on the head.  “Look, I know I work a lot, keep crazy hours, and obsess when I’ve got a big murder trial, but that’s not going to change.  It’s not just my job, it’s who I am.  I love what I do.  And I need someone who can support me in that.”

“Scott, I’ve never asked you to change.  In fact, I can’t ever remember complaining about your hours or your job.  Where is this coming from?”

“That’s part of the problem.  You just don’t seem to care.  I want somebody who
wants
to be with me, who may not
like
that I work a lot, but she’s willing to overlook it because she loves me and knows how much it means to me.”

“So you’re breaking up with me because I’m
not
upset over your job?”  I felt like I was the guy in the situation all of a sudden.

“Something like that, I guess,” he said, shrugging his wide shoulders.

I was still digesting the strange turn of events when I got a whiff of smoke.  I looked up and saw Megan Bounty and Mayor Scruggs making their way towards our table.  The maitre d must’ve been taking them to a table beyond ours because he was leading the way. 

The mayor stopped near my chair. “Catherine, what a pleasure,” he said, smiling in his weasel-like way.  Megan had her arm looped through his, much as she had done to Tegan the day Rainn and I had seen them at lunch.  I was glad for it at that particular time, as it kept Mayor Scruggs from offering to shake my hand.

I looked into his cold, dead eyes then glanced away uncomfortably.  “Mayor.  Megan,” I said when I met Megan’s eyes.

She didn’t speak, merely nodded her brilliant red head. 

The mayor, however, had a purpose in stopping to talk to me.  “I’m glad I’ve run into you today.  There is a house in White Columns that I’d like you to show me.  Tonight if possible.”