Nothing Sacred (FBI Agent Dan Hammer Series Book 1) (35 page)

“Sydia, you must stop, now! Don’t make me do this…”

“They held my Mother down. Her sisters kept her captive as the tribesmen marched four other girls and me off. We wore white dresses. It was our celebration into womanhood. They offered us candy, which we hardly ever received. Chocolate. Then, they took us to a clearing. It was dusty and my feet were hot and sore when we arrived. They placed us outside a small hut and lined us up. I was not quite six, yet, Father. The same age as Alexandra.”

“STOP! NOW!”

“The oldest in our group was nine. We never spoke of the tradition, but we all knew of it. When it was your time, they came for you. I was scared. They forbid us from talking. Or crying. And my Mother, she could not save me. She could not save herself. She spit at her sisters. She screamed at them to let her go. Hissed the truth at them, the lie of my Father. The reality of you. How you came and stole her from the tribe and fucked her in the fields. It was a sin, and as punishment, they forced her to be still. For you, Father.

The grandmother of our tribe came out from the hut. She carried a rooster in her arms. She drew out a huge hatchet and, in front of us, cut off the rooster’s head. He ran around in dizzy circles, headless, spraying us with his blood before finally falling. I can still feel the warm blood from that cock. How it spewed over my bare feet…”

“Sydia, please. You’re not well…”

“You will listen. You will understand. That is why I use chicken bones. They are sharp and brittle when dried properly in the sun. They can easily puncture the skin.” Sydia pulled a handful of bones from her box. They rattled as she placed them ceremoniously on the towel. The yellow light from the lantern flickered, illuminating their brittle whiteness. “I was the last of the four girls. I watched on as the grandmother sat between their legs. Other women from the tribe held down their hands and feet before she began cutting. I observed how the girls would rise to meet the cut, see the blood spray, the way she weaved her hand, cutting deep and forcefully. From one girl to the next, she would use the same sharp tool, piercing flesh and skin as if it were nothing. She would throw the scraps of flesh to the wild dogs that followed us from the camp. They growled and barked at one another as they fought for the skin, the torn pieces of raw meat.” Sydia reached for the tin can lid.

“Don’t do it, Sydia!”

“Then, it was my turn. I prayed to a God to save me. To make them go away. Leave me alone. But, they didn’t. I was just like the other girls. I felt the first cut. I bit down hard onto the piece of wood they put into my mouth. The pain was unbearable, Father. I could see grandmother’s white gown turn red with my blood. At a certain point, I blacked out…”

Sydia advanced her fingers to Alexandra’s genital area. She raised the tunic. Dan couldn’t take it any longer.

“Stop!” He screamed out. He pulled the trigger, preparing himself for the recoil. The gun jammed. Frantic, he yelled out again. “STOP THIS, NOW!” He reloaded, chambering another round. Fighting back tears and seconds, knowing what might have already happened, he took aim again and fired, but once again, his pistol jammed.

“We must begin.”

A jumble of static whirled past him as he took off running toward the clearing. Like a crazy man, he raised his hands, yelling, screaming into the night. Then, the first gun shot. It pierced the silence like a thunderbolt. Sydia looked up. She could almost touch Dan. He was so close to saving his baby. Another shot rang out. He felt the sleek penetration of a bullet as it ripped through his shoulder blade, splattering blood tissue. He screamed out, “Get down! GET THE FUCK DOWN!”

He propelled himself forward and flung his body into the clearing. He dropped hard onto the ground. His first impulse was to shelter Alexandra. Another explosion rang out. The bullet hit the lantern and ricocheted off. Metal rang out as the light exploded and kerosene fanned out over the area. Flames spread as Dan lunged toward Alexandra, crawling up beside her body. Shallow breathing. His baby was asleep. His baby girl was safe. He untied her arms and legs and clutched her close to his chest. He pulled her away from the fire and yelled out into the darkness.

“STOP SHOOTING! POLICE! PUT YOUR WEAPON DOWN!”

A dark, heavy figure staggered into the clearing. Jesus Christ, it was Evans. He stumbled closer, either drugged or drunk, or both, weaving back and forth. He pointed his pistol in their direction.

“Evans! It’s Hammer. Drop your weapon.”

Evans voice was soft, emotional. “I… can’t… do… that, Dan.”

“DO IT! It’s an order.”

“Fuck you, Hammer! Did you see what that fucking sicko did? Did you see what was left of my friend?”

“Calm down, just calm down, Evans.”

Dan was torn. Life was so damn ironic. Here he was, protecting the woman he just moments ago wanted to kill himself.

“It’s too late for that, Evans.”

“No, Hammer, it’s not too late. You never understood her. You never understood Janice. You didn’t know how I felt about her. To you, she was just a nosy reporter…”

Dan struggled to stand up, pulling Sydia with him. She crouched down behind his back, mumbling words to herself as they inched out of the clearing and the growing fire. Evans continued toward them. The red and orange bonfire illuminated his wild face. His eyes were wide open.

Alexandra stirred. She nestled herself into the creases of Dan’s bloody jacket, now caked with dried mud. Behind Evans, a mile or so back, a line of squad cars arrived. The faint whirling sound of sirens moving closer. Then another shadow crossed over the crime scene. Dan breathed a sigh of relief.

Evans continued. “Move, Hammer. I want her. Let me take the bitch down. She needs to pay for what she did.”

“I won’t do that, Evans.”

“She was gonna do that sick thing to your daughter. You read the note. I’m fucking helping you out, man.”

The dots were beginning to connect. Evans had obviously gone to his apartment looking for Sydia. What he found was the note and followed the clues back to the original site.

“EVANS! Put your gun DOWN!” Wright’s voice boomed from the perimeter of the clearing.

Evans turned and fired as Wright flung himself for cover. Dan took the opportunity to hide Sydia and Alexandra behind a layer of trees.

Wright fired one shot. Evans fell to the ground, rolling around in a fetal position grabbing at his knee. “Mother fucker!”

Dan put Alexandra down on the ground and ran toward Evans, holding his own arm in a makeshift sling. He kicked Evans gun away as Wright entered into the clearing. He moved swiftly, first to Dan, then to Sydia and Alexandra.

“You all right?” He asked, checking Dan’s shoulder.

“I’ve been better.” Dan followed Wright back to Alexandra. He examined her body, checking for cuts, forgetting his own wound. His pain seemed so insignificant.

Sydia stared off into the distance. Lost. She muttered sounds to herself. Nothing tangible or coherent. Something about mistakes. How could Dan help but not feel sorry for her? Wright escorted her out of the clearing and into the field. She walked in baby steps, fumbling and tripping over her own feet.

Wright looked over his shoulder. “Let’s go home, Hammer. It’s over.”

Dan crossed the field behind them, Alexandra secure in his arms. A fusillade of sirens and flashing lights erupted in front of him. His senses slowly awakened and brought him back to life. Back to reality. His shoulder throbbed with intense pain. EMT’s intercepted him at the road. They took Alexandra and put Dan on a stretcher. Officers loaded Sydia into a squad car and drove away. Others ran to the clearing, including a crew of firefighters. Water gushed from thick hoses, shooting arches against the hazy moonlight. Officers guided Evans back to the road. Wright stood beside the gurney as two EMT techs hoisted Dan into the ambulance. A technician held Alexandra inside.

“Sorry, Dan.” Wright grabbed at Dan’s hand. “You felt something for her, didn’t you?”

“Did.”

“Well, you saved her. In more ways than even she expected.”

“Yeah, the good Doctor.”

A painful interruption as an EMT inserted a needle in Dan’s arm and started an IV. Clear fluid dripped from a plastic bag into his system. “Wright, there is one thing.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“How did you know? I mean, how did you know she’d come back here?”

“I didn’t. I took a chance. And sometimes a hunch is as good as it gets.”

The gurney slid forward. The ceiling of the ambulance was white and red.

MUSC

Sunday

7
:00 AM

59

Dan was checked into the hospital at the Medical University of South Carolina.

Go figure.

His least favorite place.

Sunday morning arrived with a crescendo. The ordeal was over. From his hospital bed, he read the early Sunday edition of the
Post and Courier
. It announced the death of Janice Porter. Her photograph took up the entire front page. A memorial service was scheduled. Her body would be transported back to Philadelphia and her remains buried there. On the inside section, Chief Abrams informed the concerned public that “The Mutilator” task force had been dissolved. The case was closed. Law officials transported Sydia Garrison to a mental institution in Columbia, South Carolina. She waited further psychological testing and faced charges for the first degree murder of several young women in South Carolina and West Virginia. Parents protested, claiming Sydia would cop an insanity plea. The people sought solace and redemption. They wouldn’t be satisfied until Sydia received the death penalty.

Charleston gave a huge sigh of relief. In a few weeks, after a myriad of written reports were submitted and finalized, Charleston would return to its normal, quiet peaceful community by the sea. The search continued for Jennifer Stattler.

After a lengthy examination, the doctors gave Alexandra a clean bill of health. Except for a mild sedative circulating in her system, she was unharmed. The only thing Alexandra remembered was going to the bathroom. A nice black lady helped her get back into bed.

Gina arrived at the hospital early. Before dawn, driving back from Columbia as soon as she got word. A gathering commotion erupted at the nurse’s station when she entered, screaming, “Where’s my baby? Where’s my baby?” as she raced down the hallway toward Dan’s room.

Awake with the energy of only a child, even with a sedative, Alexandra ran to the door to greet her. “Mommy, Mommy!”

“Oh, my God. My baby. Hello, my sweet baby.” Gina leaned down and picked up Alexandra. With her living and breathing appendage once again positioned on her hip, Gina opened the door wider to Dan’s room. “I wish you’d quit this damn job.” She rocked Alexandra back and forth as she spoke, her eyes heavy with tears.

“Don’t cuss in front of the baby. Shootings and bloodshed are fine – but
no
cuss words!”

Gina tried a strained smile. “Oh my God, Dan. I…” Her voice trailed off. She buried her face in Alexandra’s neck. Then she did something completely un-Gina like. She walked over, looked down at Dan and said, “What would I do if I ever lost you? Who would I abuse?”

Dan thought he actually saw tears forming. Her eyes became misty as she leaned down and kissed him tenderly on the cheek.

“I don’t have her things. We haven’t been back to my place yet. It’s all still at my apartment.”

“That’s okay. I can always come over and pick it up, can’t I?”

Dan thought about how enormously ironic his life currently was. He moved his face close to Gina and without monitoring himself gave her a slight peck on the cheek. Life was just too damn short to continue collecting injustices. Before she could speak, he said, “Just because.”

A knock interrupted them. Wright entered, unannounced. “Thought I’d be saying my goodbyes, Hammer.”

Gina made a move for the door.

“I don’t mean to barge in on you two…”

“I was just leaving. Say goodbye to your Daddy, honey.” Alexandra waved, and then stuck her thumb into her mouth.

“Wait, before you take her, can I have one more hug.” Gina positioned Alexandra down next to Dan. He pushed brown wisps of hair off her face. “Bye, bye, honey. I love you so much.” Alexandra gave him a kiss before Gina straightened up. “Thank you, Gina.”

Wright picked at leftovers on Dan’s breakfast tray. He examined a lonely piece of crispy bacon. Dan remembered Wright at the Recovery Room, sitting at the bar ingesting far too many peanuts. Gina gave a quick wave and exited.

“Seems to me, Hammer, like you need to be doing some thinking. Mind if I take that last piece?” Wright reached for the bacon.

“Go for it.”

“Charleston’s getting a little too small for you, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what about joining our team?” Wright poured a cup of water from the colorful cooler into a blue plastic cup.

“This some sort of joke?”

“Nope. The Force could use a good man like you, and with me retiring soon…”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Here’s my card. You think about it and give me a call. I’ll at least make sure you have a fighting chance.” Wright flicked Dan a business card. Then he moved to the door. “I’m leaving now. My wife needs me. But, do give me a call.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Call me, Harry. All my friends do.” And with that final acknowledgment, Wright did a quick military salute and exited the room.

Dan studied the ceiling, momentarily stunned. Did Harry Wright just offer him an opportunity with the FBI?

Wallace looked down upon him. And smiled.

Right turn, right move, Hammer.

It’s about time.

Dan made a wide grin. Just like Wallace would have done.

Out his hospital window, the sun peaked through a sky buried in early morning cloud cover.

When do I start packing?