Nothing Sacred (FBI Agent Dan Hammer Series Book 1) (34 page)

10
:08 PM

57

By the time you read this, Alexandra and I will be at our destination. Together, we wait for an omen. A sign to continue the sacred practice we have so joyously been brought together to perform. To celebrate! And finally complete. And you are a part of the practice. You will save me, Dan, and, in the process, save your daughter.

You almost discovered me. My scar… the ugly blemish I’ve physically worn since I too, was not quite six years old… for my sins, in memory of my dear Mother, and in combination with my beloved Father. Traditionally, when a child is born into the world, it bonds with the family. Unfortunately, my birth only caused separation, abandonment and ultimately… death.

My death, Dan.

But that is all behind me now… behind us…

As God, I have chosen to force my will, my life and my tradition upon Alexandra. The heavens have agreed. They have approved of my final sacred choice. Unlike the others, those silly cunts that paid for their sins with death, Alexandra shall live. She will be saved, as my Father saved me years ago. I will allow Alexandra to continue her life, so she, too, can carry the awful memory I have lived with, along with all those who have come before me, and all those who will endure the painful act after me. Alexandra will mature into womanhood with full knowledge that her temple has been destroyed, her feminine gift, her womanly power denied and the source of her pleasure forever engraved and carved out. It its place, an embarrassing hollow shell.

Alexandra will live, Dan, but she, too, will die. From the deprivation of Spirit I have learned to call home.

We wait for you…

Far from the hectic pace of the City…

In a sacred clearing prepared for the others before her.

Hurry…

God.

11
:17 PM

58

As a cop, Dan took his work seriously. To a fault, some people might think. As a Detective, Dan had earned the respect and admiration of his colleagues and peers. There were times he considered his reputation at the Precinct to be more important than life itself. And yes, he tended to be rough around the edges, outspoken and, often, downright rude.

But as a Father, Dan took his role over the top. Being an absentee Dad didn’t help. It made him all the more protective. Nightly hugs before bedtime, colored pages hung up and bragged about on his refrigerator, bedtime stories before lights out; all gave a rare insight into a life he rarely got to experience, excluding, of course, the out of the ordinary emergencies that popped up from time to time. Or the mandatory, court-ordered, every other weekend visitation. Animal instincts came out to play. Dangerous and paternal impulses arose, not easily monitored on the Richter scale of acceptable human behavior when something or somebody jeopardized his Alexandra.

He realized all of that when Wright helped him up from off the floor and escorted him back to his car.

“You want company?”

Dan unlocked the driver’s side. His legs felt like Jell-O. He dropped the keys into a puddle of dark water. He was in shock. His body felt numb, cold, and detached as he leaned over to scoop them up. “No.”

“I’ll send reinforcement to your apartment. You might need it.” Wright reached out to stable Dan, but he had already left, leaving Wright abandoned on the boardwalk.

Dan sped back to North Charleston, consumed with self-guilt and self-hate. He wanted to kick himself in the ass for allowing Sydia to manipulate him the way she had. His character was flawed, pathetic and desperate – a stupid male creature led solely around by his dick. Meanwhile, Sydia’s intentions were probably in place from the very beginning. Right from the start. He caught his reflection in the window. He looked shrunken and small. A beaten man.

He arrived back at the apartment to find the front door wide open. Dominoes began falling. “Sydia!” He yelled into the dark, empty rooms. He pushed open the door with his foot. Nothing. “SYDIA!” Just the monotonous changing of the streetlight outside. On the coffee table, he discovered the note. The wine glass had been broken and lay shattered on the floor. As he read, he began to cry. Again. The idea of Alexandra being tortured was more than he could stand. Her slight body tied down with ligatures. Her little girl legs separated, open and vulnerable like the others…

Old Towne Road…

In a sacred clearing prepared for the others who came before her…

The apartment complex was quiet outside as he leaped down the stairwell. Normal people were sleeping, unaware of the horror he was about to witness. In the distance, a serenade of sirens shattered the stillness, careening toward his location.

He lunged into his car. He was on a mission. His purpose was intact. Save his baby. He revved the engine and peeled out from the parking lot. He turned right at the first traffic light onto Cosgrove Avenue, aware that he sped through a red light. The first of many as he raced past closed businesses and strip malls lit up with impersonal neon.

He followed Cosgrove until it combined with Highway 7. He hastened his speed across the Ashley River toward Sam Rittenberg Boulevard. To the left, yellow lights bobbed in the choppy water. A fine fog hung suspended, calm and still.

Old Towne Road
…

The original clearing. He accelerated, breaking speed limits, forcing his beat up car to lean into the curves of the sleepy residential areas. He pushed hard on the gas, pressing the pedal all the way to the floor, passing through another red light at Poston. Up ahead, signboards displayed Charles Towne Landing, the first settlement in Charleston. It brought images of Gina to mind. Pictures of them together, their youth. Before Alexandra. When life was perfect. Easy. Different. Lazy Sunday afternoons picnicking there. Now, flashes from the past were only diversions. A way to escape the ever-present now. They exploded like vibrant firecrackers, and then disappeared without even a fizzle, a flat line flare.

The road veered to the left at Junction 171. The forgotten, old North Charleston Mall stood like a rickety skeleton, a lonely reminder of the growth spurt Charleston was presently undergoing.

He passed into a bedspread of darkness. Sporadic horse lanterns dotted the road. Residential homes sat back in reclusive shadowed beauty. Mailboxes lined up intermittently on the left and right side.

Dan flicked on his high beams. He didn’t want to miss his turn. A green sign read: Marvin Avenue. Unaware of his speed he turned left, well over eighty miles an hour. The car swerved dangerously around the corner. Two wheels left the road as he tried to gain control of the vehicle. The car lurched back on all fours, careened around the curve, and fishtailed into a deep ditch. Tires screeched as he came to a sudden and explosive halt.

“Jesus, fucking Christ!”

He clutched his holster, unlocking the protective band and heaved open the car door. He squeezed through the narrow opening into a waterway filled with mud and knee-high reeds. His feet sank into the soft earth. He lost his balance and fell over. Cold water seeped into his dry clothing. His hands pushed through mud that felt more like liquid mortar as he dug his fingers into the side of the bank for added support. He grabbed a hold of some prickly briar weeds, unaware, numb of the sting and pulled himself up and out of the trench. The inside car light was on, the door jammed into the muddy incline. He didn’t care. He took off, wet and tired and layered with dirt.

He reached the asphalt, stomped his feet several times and sprinted toward the clearing. His only guide, the white divider line in the middle of the lane. Up ahead and to his left he noticed the forested tree line of the clearing. Flashbacks of that original night. The dead girl. The police convention of blue and red lights. Evans, George Madden. He jumped down into the ditch, straddling the tall grass and bramble bushes and dashed into the field. A woody, twisted root caught his foot. He fell, face first onto the ground. It punched the wind from out of him, a huge crushing blow to his chest. The frustration was overwhelming. He felt paralyzed, overcome by grief and fear and self-doubt. Frozen. Then, a rush of adrenaline surged through him. A carnal rage enveloped him as he pushed himself back up onto his feet and continued running. He realized the incredible stamina of the human will. For one fleeting second, he understood how old ladies were able to lift cars to save loved ones. Dan seemed to have taken on super-human characteristics. He crashed the silence with a deafening scream and took off, again, running in the direction of the clearing. Crickets and frogs kept a crazy chorus with his cadence, their world suddenly invaded by an unwelcome alien imposter.

His mind, his thoughts, his actions…

Save his baby!

He would kill himself if anything ever happened to Alexandra.

He approached the dense, dark trees and went for his piece. The leather holster and gun caked with wet mud. He inched around the trees, brushing his hips against each jagged base. He picked at the dirt with his finger and unlocked the safety. He hunched down. Dry leaves and branches snapped under his feet. Cautiously, he continued.

Nothing sudden.

No false moves. His eyebrow twitched.

The clearing was black. A cacophony of forest sounds surrounded him. In the moonlight, shapes began to take form. He closed in, using surrounding trees as shelter. Under hazy moonlight, the original yellow and black crime scene tape flapped in the wind, rattling in the stillness.

In front of him, under the canopy of an old oak tree sat Sydia. Her hair was wild, not styled or tied back. It blew soft and loose in the night breeze. In front of her on the ground was a body, Alexandra, still and quiet, a blanket snuggled up close around her neck. The sight of his baby tied down like an animal, a prisoner of this crazy woman, made him choke. Alexandra held custody, a hostage because of him. Again,
his
bad choices. Before he could speak, a match sparked the night sky. A flame flickered and turned on. The glow illuminated Sydia’s face as Dan’s eyes adjusted. Between his baby’s straddled legs was a lantern.

“We’ve been waiting, Father.”

Hearing Sydia’s voice took Dan off guard. It sounded strange… different.

“Have you come to save us? Have you come to save me?”

His mind would not stop racing, an exhausting emotional race. The gun rested securely on his forearm, pointed in her direction. His first impulse was to shoot the bitch, his need for revenge so great, so sweet, and so intense.

“Is she okay? Is my baby okay?”

“We’ve been waiting for you, Father. Just like before. Remember?”

“What are you talking about? I’m not your Father, and she’s not your baby. Now untie her and give her to me. Immediately. We can talk about this.”

Keep her talking
.

Dan made slow gains forward.

Jesus, I was falling in love with this woman
…

“Then I won’t be saved. Would you rather leave me here...?”

“My name is Hammer. Dan. I am not your Father.

“But you are. And you must save me. The heavens have agreed. They have chosen you.”

“What are you talking about? The heavens?”

“There are no mistakes. Alexandra and I were brought together, united for our salvation. This five year old little girl is my small sacrifice in order to be saved. Don’t you know who you’re talking to?”

“Sydia Garrison. A Doctor, for Christ’s sake,” he screamed out.

“I am God. I have chosen to be saved. This is the conclusion for me. My final act. A life goes full circle. Remember? I have finished what I have chosen to do. My mission. My Mother’s sins, my Father’s sins, their sin together, and now the completion, the greatest sin of all. The ultimate outcome. Me. I must save myself, but only with your assistance.”

“Don’t do this!”

Dan inched closer. He could see Sydia’s face. The details of her skin, her lips, her perfect teeth as she spoke…

This woman can’t be a killer
!

His baby and Sydia were no further than fifty yards away.

“Don’t come any closer. You must watch. All of it. What you did to us. You must observe what one careless act can do.
Did
do. What you brought into this world. And by doing so, you will understand the destruction you have caused. By taking a woman – my Mother – and having sex with her in the fields. You, a missionary, a man of the cloth. You were to bring only good. Not this! So therefore, now you must pay. You will never understand how offensive that act is to our culture. How insulting it is for a white man to be with a woman of color before she is married. What were you thinking? Didn’t you know? That you created a monster!” She moved the blanket up around Alexandra’s waist and stroked the inside of her legs. Lightly. Moving her fingers like a paintbrush, up and down Alexandra’s thigh as she spoke.

“What did I do? I didn’t do anything. Listen to me…”

“I will perform the sacred act for you, Father. I will show you what they did to me.”

“Please Sydia. I have a gun! I don’t want to shoot! Don’t make me shoot you!”

“The time has come. The omen has arrived. I have been instructed to perform the ritual. It is sacred in our camp.” Sydia lifted a wooden box, opened it and positioned it in front of her in between Alexandra’s legs. She pulled out a tin can lid. “I was taken to a field, far from the City. Mother screamed when they took me. She did not know…”