Soul Eater (4 page)

"What makes you think it had something to do with the Eerie Mountain Killer?” Jenna asked.

John took his cup of coffee to sit at the stool next to Jenna. Looking around, as if he worried he might be overheard, he leaned closer and spoke in hushed tones. “That drifter, well his body was found on my ranch. I was the one that called your pa. There was something real strange about that body."

Jenna noticed that Rita had retreated to the far end of the counter, but she still had her ears open to their conversation.

"Like what?” Hessler had stirred her curiosity.

"Well Brent came out to the ranch. After examining the crime scene he wanted to ask me a few questions. I says, okay ... ask away.” John paused as he took another swallow of his coffee.

"He asks me what I saw that night, and I tell him I just saw the guy taking pictures of some trees and then this black haze came out of nowhere, covering the guy. That drifter was a screaming like no other."

Jenna couldn't believe it. Old John was the witness that her father had talked about. “Go on. You said there was something strange about the body."

John nodded. “There was! While your dad was talking to me, that dead man began to moan and groan. I have to tell you, it scared us both about into a heart attack."

"Maybe there was a mistake, and he wasn't dead yet?” Jenna offered.

"The guy was dead as dead. That was the first thing your dad had checked when he showed up."

"So what happened?"

"Well, after hearing that, Brent runs over there, figuring he'd made a mistake. This time he detected a pulse, but this drifter opened his eyes, and I'll swear on the bible those eyes were red. He closed his eyes again, and the pulse was gone."

"So what does all this have to do with the killer, and are you suggesting this guy was killed with some kind of toxic gas?"

"I've no idea what killed him, but I can tell you one thing. I called the Sinister Police two hours before I called your pa and no one showed up. That's why I finally called Brent. I'd known him since he was a boy and knew he'd come and do his job."

"I still don't see the connection you're making with my father's disappearance."

"I believe we both saw something that day that we wasn't meant to see."

"So why didn't the killer come after you then?” Jenna was intrigued, if doubtful about the story.

"I don't give them a chance, and besides ... I can always be passed off as a crazy old man. Not so with your pa. He was a danger."

"You said ‘they'. Who is they?"

The old man leaned in closer to Jenna and whispered. “The killer isn't just a person ... its many. Don't trust anyone in Sinister,” he told her in a voice so low that she barely heard it.

"So wouldn't you be in danger for talking to me about this?"

"Someone has to stop them,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

After leaving the café, Jenna made a couple more stops. She was interested in what Sinister's residents had to say about the killings. The case was getting more bizarre by the moment and the whole time, John's comments hung over her like a dark cloud.

The house was eerily quiet in the waning light of late afternoon. It had sat empty, void of life for ten years now. Everything had been transferred to her when her parents had been legally declared dead, but still she hadn't returned. Instead, she'd opted to hire the neighbor, Mrs. Reynolds to care for the place.

Many times she'd thought of selling her parent's house, but she had just never been able to bring herself to do it. Jenna supposed a small part of her still hoped that one day they would return. So she had dutifully sent payment to Mrs. Reynolds each month and met the tax obligation every year.

From the house's appearance her neighbor had done an excellent job of keeping the place up. So good in fact, that it was almost like the years had never passed. Walking through the rooms, Jenna experienced a sense of vertigo, like she was being spun back through time. Everything was exactly like she remembered it on that summer day.

Sharon Claremont's purse still rested on the kitchen counter, in exactly the same place it had on that last day when Jenna had sat in the kitchen talking with her mother. Her father's razor was still on the bathroom vanity where she'd seen him lay it on that fateful morning.

All the years peeled away and she had the uncanny feeling that if she closed her eyes, when she opened them she would have been transported back in time. Jenna felt as light as a bubble and she was drifting ... bouncing through the abyss of time.

The scent of fried chicken wafted through the air and the front door shut with a little thud.

"Sharon, what's for dinner? I'm starving!” Brent Claremont called from the living room.

"Fried chicken and scalloped potatoes.” Jenna's mother strong voice carried easily through the house. “I made a lot because I figured you probably didn't stop and eat lunch today,” Sharon added.

Jenna noted her father's worn appearance when he walked into the kitchen. He had been called into work at three in the morning. Another victim had been found.

Mathew took a seat at the kitchen table and rubbed his puffy, tired eyes.

"I don't know ... this case is strange. I mean ... I wouldn't call any case of serial homicide, normal, but this ... I just don't know. I'm lost on this one."

"Something will break soon,” Sharon tried to reassure him.

"Until then, I don't want you girls out alone ... at all.” Brent gave the order straight to Jenna.

He returned his attention to his wife who was busy at the stove. “It's possible we just may have gotten that break this time."

"Oh?"

"I don't want to say too much to anyone right now, not until I have had it checked out. I think I'm going to send some stuff to the state crime lab, though."

Sharon made no comment, but raised her brows questioningly.

Brent smiled. “It's just something I don't think should be handled by our own team."

At this point Jenna lost interest as she dwelled deeper into her problem of getting out of the house and to Mirror Lake.

The voices faded and with them the images of her parents were lost. Jenna blinked her tears away, but her feelings of guilt were renewed with a vengeance. She had no right to be alive while her family was lost in a void of time. If she hadn't deceived her parents she would've been home that night. She would've shared their fate.

But deception and fate had taken her out of reach of whatever evil had befallen her family ten years ago, leaving Jenna to wade through a sea of guilt for every minute of every day since then.

It was funny how one never could tell when fate would snatch away the very essence of one's existence.

With pure force of will, Jenna pushed her despair back down to the deepest recesses of her mind. She had the rest of her life to grieve, but for now she had a killer to catch, a killer who had evaded her father, but who wouldn't do the same with her. This, Jenna vowed on the memory of her family.

She had always felt that the Eerie Mountain murders were connect to her family's disappearance in some way, but until this moment she'd been unable to see that connection through the haze of her memories.

With the flood of suppressed memories also came the key, the key she'd groped for all these years that had remained elusive.

Evidence! Evidence her father had planned to send to the state crime lab.

A sense of déjà vu took hold of her when she entered her old bedroom. Teen idols of another time stared back at her from the pink pastel walls. Setting her bags on the bed, Jenna opened them and located a pair of cutoffs and a Tee shirt.

She'd just change quickly before taking a peek through the rest of the house. Maybe ... just maybe that evidence was still here somewhere.

Jenna stripped off the gray wool skirt and jacket. Her fingers trembled as she unfastened the buttons of her blouse. Her nerves were frayed and the oppressive atmosphere of the house hadn't helped.

Something on her old dressing table caught her eye. The drawer was partway open, as if someone had been in it but had been interrupted. She wondered if she could have opened it that night and forgot to shut it.

But no, it couldn't have been her. All her life she'd had a thing about making sure all drawers and cupboards were shut. It bugged her to no end to see a drawer or cupboard door open. Her aunt had picked her up at the hospital, and they hadn't even bothered coming back to the house. When she'd left for Texas, she'd gone with only the clothes on her back. In any case, the police wouldn't let them return to the house until they were done with their investigation. She clearly remembered her aunt arguing with the police about it.

The creak of a loose floorboard shattered the stillness. Jenna froze. Before she could confront the intruder a large hand came from behind, clamping tightly over her mouth.

"Don't scream ... the house is being watched,” Brody whispered in her ear before removing his hand.

Clad in only white cotton panties, Jenna swung around to face him. “How did you get here? How do you know the house is being watched?” she asked in a low, angry voice.

"There's a patrol car down the street watching the house. When I spotted it I decided to come in through the back so they wouldn't see me."

"How did you get out?"

"They had to let me out. The district judge refused to extend the warrant without further evidence,” he explained.

Jenna was angry with herself for letting someone sneak up on her so easily. Suddenly she remembered her state of dress. “Do you mind leaving the room so I can dress?” she asked as she brought her arms up to cover her breasts.

He made no move to leave, but instead let his gaze travel the contours of her body. He couldn't leave. All the forces of heaven and hell couldn't have propelled him to leave the room at that moment.

The distraction will be fatal
. A voice mocked in his head, but his need for her was so great, fueled by years of dreaming of her ... wanting her. He wanted to take the flesh of her breast in his mouth, feel his teeth imbedded in her soft mounds.

How many times had he imagined seeing her full, red lips wrapped around his rigid cock, daydreamed of sliding down her throat? To feel her hot, tight flesh wrap around him, squeezing him into submission?

The images were too much. He couldn't leave ... walk away from the one thing he desired above all things. He wanted to indulge his fantasies, to taste this woman's delights, the only woman he had ever really wanted.

"Do you really want me to leave?” His low voice was laced with sensuality and a hunger that was contagious.

Jenna felt a tingling sensation when she saw the flames of passion that had been ignited in his dark eyes. Brody's arms came out to pull her close to him, his lips claiming hers as he hungrily explored her mouth. His rough hands softly caressed her back, finding their way beneath her panties to stroke her flesh.

Jenna's heart beat wildly as she felt heat explode between her legs. His lips were on her neck, then traveling down to her breast where his hot tongue caressed her erect nipple. Before she knew it, her panties were down around her ankles and his fingers were exploring her wet, aching pussy.

Gasping in pure delight, Jenna knew she should stop him but just couldn't spit the words out.

His mouth was next to her ear, his teeth scraping her flesh, his tongue soothing, his hot breath on her neck. “You want me, don't you?"

"Yes,” she said, gasping for air. She was flying back in time to the moment she had decided that this man was her whole world. She wanted him, needed to become one with him.

Her body was on fire, her need a force of its own, consuming her soul. All she could do was feel. Feel his fingers massaging her clit while his teeth bit into her flesh, feel her pussy pulsating with heat and her heart beating so rapidly she was sure she couldn't take anymore.

"I can't let myself love you."

"You don't have to love me, just let me love you,” he whispered. “It can be just sex if that's what you want."

"I can't,” she cried.

"Say it Jenna.” His voice trembled with his own desire. “Brody ... fuck me. Say it!” he ordered.

The words were on her lips. She wanted to feel him inside her, fucking her, loving her, taking her to that elusive peak of shattering release that she longed for.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught movement in the hall and she froze. Her father stood there, glaring at her with that familiar look of reproach.

"Jenna, why are you not catching that monster?” His voice was so real that Jenna was startled that Brody appeared not to have heard it.

In a flash, the vision was gone but it had brought Jenna to her senses.

Gently she pushed Brody away. “I already told you I would never let it happen again."

"Jenna, you know I didn't mean to hurt you, but I was afraid that you'd distract me from what I had to do.” There was a note of pleading in his voice.

"All that was a long time ago. It's time to understand that it just wasn't meant to be and move on. You just don't fit into my life anymore.” Jenna's words were meant not only to convince Brody, but to convince herself, as well.

Brody turned away from her and left the room. While every fiber of her being wanted to call him back, she just couldn't do it.

After dressing, Jenna found Brody in the kitchen waiting for her. He leaned against the counter with his arms folded in front of him. Jenna couldn't help but notice how tall he was, and how his T-shirt strained against the muscles of his chest and arms. She could feel her body responding to the sight of him and wondered if her feelings were really all that different than they were ten years ago.

"Well Agent Claremont, should we get down to business?” he asked in an icy voice.

"What business is that?"

"Catching a killer! You're not planning on doing it alone are you?” he asked, arching one brow.

Jenna smiled patiently. “I do have a partner who will be meeting me here in a few days, and besides this is a Federal case, not just anyone can work with me on it."