The Devil's Water: Scenic City Murder Series #1 Read online

  THE DEVIL’S WATER

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 45

  CHAPTER 46

  CHAPTER 47

  CHAPTER 48

  EPILOGUE

  PROLOGUE

  It was raining in downtown Chattanooga. The dark blue sedan moved slowly through the parking lot as lightning flashed across the sky. Inside, the man checked his watch. 7:15. He was making good time. He turned into a parking space in front of the apartment building and noticed that her lights were on. He watched as she stood in the kitchen window washing up dishes from dinner. He cut the headlights off and listened to Steely Dan’s FM on the radio. No static at all. He smiled as he ran a hand across his unshaven face. The pizza box was lying on the seat beside him. He twisted the keys in the ignition, turning off the motor. Let’s do this. He grabbed the pizza box and opened the car door.

  He was standing in a downpour as he rang the doorbell. Ten seconds passed before the pretty woman came to the door.

  “Yes?”

  “Pizza delivery.” He said with a grin. She looked at the pizza box he was holding in one hand.

  “I didn’t order pizza.”

  “Well, there must be some sorta mix up then. I’ll need to call the store.” He looked up at the sky as the heavens continued to pour down. Another lightning flash. He shivered. “Look ma’am. I don’t have my cell phone on me and my car is way over there.” He pointed toward his dark blue Ford. “Would you mind if I used your phone?”

  She glanced down and there was a slight pause. He shivered again. “OK.” She finally said and opened the door further to grant him passage.

  “Man, it’s a nasty night.” He observed as he stepped into her foyer.

  “Yep.” She walked past him into the den. “Now the phone is just right over here.” She said, her back to him. She heard the door close. “What’s the number?” She asked as she heard footsteps behind her.

  “I’ve been watching you.” He whispered. She turned toward him as he reached for her. He put his hand across her mouth. “I know who you are, Macy.” He said, his breath hot in her ear. She tried to scream but he pressed his hand harder against her teeth. Her gums were mashed and she tasted blood. He placed his arm around her neck and struck her underneath her left ear. Her eyes fluttered and then shut. She dropped to the floor. No time to waste. He reached in his jacket pocket and removed a pair of surgical gloves and hypodermic needle. “Now let us begin.”

  CHAPTER 1

  Lieutenant Daniel A. Mclutcheon was in no mood for phone calls. His head hurt like hell and he was convinced it was because he hadn’t drunk enough coffee. Nevertheless, when the phone rang, Mclutcheon picked up on the first ring. “Clutch here.”

  “Boss, we have a situation.”

  Mclutcheon recognized the voice of Jeff Wilder, his youngest detective.

  Jeff always used the word ‘situation’ when matters were serious.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “There’s been another abduction at the Sun. Her name is Macy Garcia. The apartment is as clean as a whistle. No sign of forced entry and nothing is out of place.” Jeff said solemnly.

  “Well, maybe Macy split town.” Mclutcheon said as he unwrapped a BC powder and poured it down his throat.

  “Don’t think so boss. Perp left his calling card. Just like before.”

  Mclutcheon sat back in his swivel chair and let out a long audible sigh.

  “We’re dealing with a serial predator.” He finally said. “Hold on. I’ll be down there in a few.”

  “Oh, and boss?” Jeff spoke as Mclutcheon was hanging up the phone. “There’s a reporter here from the paper. Somebody called the press.”

  “Shit.”

  “He’s asking a bunch of questions and he won’t back off.”

  Mclutcheon rubbed one temple and processed for a moment.

  “OK. I’m on my way right now.”

  Sun Apartments was a two level structure located in a poorer section of the city. The outside of the building looked dated as it hadn’t been remodeled in nearly three decades. It mostly housed minorities though there were a few blue collar whites. Mclutcheon was very familiar with the complex, having made several arrests there for domestic disturbances when he was a beat cop.

  He wheeled in and noticed a cluster of cars down toward the end of the parking lot. Amongst them were a couple of police cruisers. As he pulled into a space, he saw Hank Gamblin talking with Jeff Wilder. Gamblin was the reporter for the local paper and he had a history of hectoring young detectives for information. He would do almost anything for a story.

  Mclutcheon exited his car and slammed the door shut. Gamblin and Wilder were standing about 30 yards away but, even from that distance, Mclutcheon could see the veins standing out from the young detective’s neck.

  “Wilder, go back inside” the lieutenant said as he came to stand between the two men. He glanced at Gamblin who wore a smug look on his face. Gamblin’s hair was slicked back into a club at the base of his neck. Mclutcheon always thought that he looked just like the rat he was.

  Wilder nodded at his boss and turned to walk back inside the apartment.

  “Lieutenant Mclutcheon, I was just having a little chat with your detective. He hasn’t been too terribly helpful.” Gamblin said. “Perhaps you can tell me what’s going on?”

  Gamblin was a diminutive man and stared up at the lieutenant with a shit eating grin. Mclutcheon wanted to stomp on him like a bug.

  “This is official police business, Gamblin.”

  “Well, I know but an anonymous source says it looks like there’s a serial kidnapping case going on in our fair town.”

  “No comment.” Mclutcheon returned harshly.

  “Well, what can you tell me about the letters that have been left at the crime scenes? What is the perp trying to tell you?”

  “No comment.”

  “Well, often in cases like this the kidnappings escalate into murder. Do you have reason to believe this could be a murder investigation?”

  “Look” Mclutcheon said, his voice steady, “There is no comment at this time. I’m certainly not willing to speculate on this. What I will do, though, is run your ass in if you continue to interfere with this investigation. Leave my detectives alone.”

  Mclutcheon watched Gamblin slink back to his car and climb in. He watched the vehicle exit the parking lot and finally turned back toward the apartment building. “Damn” he said to himself. His head
ache had started easing off but after the exchange with Gamblin he was starting to feel it again. He walked up to Macy Garcia’s door and opened it.

  The apartment was just as Wilder had said. Clean as a whistle. There was a cop there taking pictures. “Get everything” Mclutcheon said as he walked back toward the bedroom. Inside, Wilder stood by the bed. There, lying neatly on one of the pillows was a plain piece of notebook paper with a pen. Mclutcheon leaned down to where he could read the note:

  FROM HELL

  Catch me when you can, Mishter Lusk

  “I have no idea what that means. Guy can’t spell for shit though” Wilder began, his face was etched with concern.

  Mclutcheon stood up and took a deep breath. He looked at his detective. “Whitechapel, 1888. The “From Hell” letter. It was a letter Jack the Ripper sent to a guy by the name of George Lusk. Lusk was the head of the vigilance committee at the time.”

  “Yeah but why is our guy sending this letter now?”

  Mclutcheon looked down at the letter. “You know Jeff, that sentence was the only one in the entire letter the Ripper spelled correctly. Aside, of course, from the word ‘mister’. ” He paused and looked back up at Wilder. “I think it means our guy is serious. Just like the Ripper was in the fall of 1888.”

  Jeff Wilder held a plastic bag in his hand. “Bag the evidence, Jeff.”

  “Okay boss”

  Mclutcheon turned toward the door to leave. “But I don’t think we’ll have to worry about Macy Garcia anymore.”

  “Why is that?” Wilder asked.

  “Because I’m pretty sure that she’s dead.” Mclutcheon said as he shut the door behind him.

  CHAPTER 2

  The next day, as Mclutcheon was sorting his files, the phone rang. He answered and knew immediately who it was. The low husky voice was unmistakable.

  “Yes chief”

  Ryan Skopic was an old beat cop like Mclutcheon had been. He had risen in the ranks and had formed a whole lot of political connections in his many years on the force. Now he was the chief of police and, Mclutcheon thought, a damn good one.

  “Clutch, tell me what I need to know.” Skopic said without a greeting. It was always like Skopic to get directly to the point.

  “Well, we have three missing women. They’ve all been abducted from the Sun.” Mclutcheon started.“There’s always been a note left at the apartment and the apartments are always clean. No forced entry. Spotless.”

  “Well, Hank Gamblin is crawling my ass to try and find out something. He’s been calling my office all afternoon.”

  “You gonna have to make a statement chief?” Mclutcheon asked but already knew the answer.

  “Well, I’d like to hold off as long as possible but it was bound to break if a body was found and a body has been found.”

  Mclutcheon let out a deep breath.

  “Macy Garcia was found on the bank of the Tennessee River. Right beside the Devil’s Water. Couple of fishermen found her.”

  Mclutcheon knew the exact spot. The Devils water was a small inlet known for its deep water and tide pools along with its treacherous bank. It had claimed many lives over the years.

  “I wish I had known about this.” Mclutcheon said, mildly annoyed.

  “Jeff Wilder called and told me.” Skopic said. “You might want to have a little talk with him.”

  “Yes, chief.” Mclutcheon returned.

  He hung up the phone and thought about it for a few minutes before calling Wilder in. He felt himself calming down after considering Wilder’s youth, inexperience and zest for justice. Mclutcheon reasoned that Wilder had never worked this sort of case before. No reason to be too hard on him.

  Mclutcheon picked up the phone and dialed Jeff’s office. “Wilder here.”

  “Hey Jeff. Listen, I know you didn’t mean anything by it but all information on this case goes through me first. I’ll take it to the chief. That’s the chain, you know?”

  There was a pregnant silence. “Okay boss. Sorry about that.” Jeff replied.

  As he got off the phone, Mclutcheon thought about his young detective. He was bright with an excellent future ahead of him in law enforcement. He was also a good person. Mclutcheon had known tons of smart folk who weren’t. He thought about the perp. Mclutcheon figured he was a garden variety sociopath. A bad seed. Now three women had been abducted and one of them was found on a lone rocky bank beside the river. Just thrown out like trash.

  Mclutcheon rubbed the whiskers on his chin. He leaned back in his chair and glanced up at the fluorescent lights above.

  He was sure Skopic would want to keep this in house. “No need to get a bunch of agencies involved in this” Skopic would say. But what if it continued?

  There was no way to keep a lid on it for very long, especially with Hank Gamblin sniffing around.

  “Shit.” Mclutcheon announced aloud. He picked the phone back up and dialed Skopic.

  “Hello?”

  “Listen chief. I have an idea.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Tasha Yoder felt like shit. She lay on her back in bed and prayed she wouldn’t puke. Her eyes were closed and she planned on keeping them that way for the rest of her life. She swallowed hard and realized her tongue felt like a shag carpet and tasted like an ashtray. Somewhere, the phone was ringing. Tasha opened one eye a crack and noticed that her alarm clock read 11:15. Beside the clock sat a half empty bottle of tequila. She had the vague sense that the tequila was only part of what she had drunk the night before.

  There was a tap on her closed bedroom door. “Are you gonna get that?” someone was saying. Tasha reached for the .38 on her bedside table. She had no idea who was in her house but she lived alone. “Open the door.” She ordered aiming the gun directly at it. In a second, the door swung open and a young man clad in a pair of cut off jean shorts and no shirt entered the room. His eyes bulged when he saw the gun. “Jesus Christ! What are you doing?” he said. He stepped back out of the doorway and took cover. “Who are you?” she asked still aiming the gun at him. “I’m Ray. We met last night. Remember?” Tasha tried to run the events of the night before through her head but she was drawing a blank. “We met down at Malone’s. We talked for awhile and you invited me here.” He continued. “Come on. Put the gun down.” He pleaded. He took one step back into the room and Tasha noticed how young he was. She could see the blonde peach fuzz on his chin as he trembled. He probably wasn’t even 25 years old. She lowered the gun and he let out a huge breath in relief.

  “Sorry.” she said as he watched her put the gun back on the bedside table. He walked over to the foot of the bed and sat down. He was really kind of cute. She wished she remembered more of the previous evening. “Yeah. The phone’s been ringing all morning. Same number. Somebody is really trying to get hold of you.”

  “They’ll call back.” She said standing up and almost falling. “Whoa!” he said. “Listen, you oughta go easy. You drank a lot last night.” He put a hand on her arm trying to steady her. She sat back down on the bed. It really hadn’t even dawned on her that she was sitting there completely nude.

  “Listen, you wanna go get something to eat?” he asked as she looked down and noticed her saggy breasts. The thought of food brought on a wave of nausea. She glanced back up into his blue eyes. “No. I can’t eat right now.”

  “Okay”

  “Look Ray. I’m sure you’re a nice guy and I’m sure we had a really good time last night but you have to go.” She stood up and wrapped the bed sheet around her naked body.

  “Well, will I see you again?” Ray asked as he watched her move toward the bathroom.

  “Don’t know. You go to Malone’s much?”

  “Well now that I’m 21 I will.” He said smiling.

  Oh dear God, she thought as she tried to brush her hair. “Well, Ray. Why don’t you let yourself out and I’ll see you later.”

  “Catch you later.” He called. In a few seconds she heard the front door open and close. She gazed in the bathroom mirro
r at herself. She looked like she’d been on a serious bender and for good reason. She couldn’t recall much of the last 48 hours. The nausea hit again like a sledge hammer. She bent over the toilet and retched. She swore to herself that she would never drink that much again. She flushed the toilet and staggered out of the bathroom just as the phone started ringing. Throwing herself on the couch, she reached out and grabbed the receiver. “Yeah.”

  “Tasha?”

  The voice sounded slightly familiar. “Yep.” She answered.

  “This is Mclutcheon. How are you?”

  “Well, I’ve been better. What’s up?”

  “I was kind of wondering if I could come over or meet you somewhere. It’s about a case I’m working. I could use your advice.”

  Tasha mulled it over a moment. She was curious why Daniel Mclutcheon would be calling her.

  “Clutch, I been out of the business for a couple years now. I don’t see how I can help.”

  “Look, just give me an ear for a little bit, okay?”

  “Alright.” She finally said. “I’m not up to going anywhere but you’re welcome to come over here.”

  “Great. When should I be there?”

  “Give me about an hour. I’ll need to clean up.”

  Tasha was just exiting the bathroom as the doorbell rung. As she was moving toward the door, she smelled her arm and was satisfied that her skin now smelled like soap rather than bile. In a second, Daniel Mclutcheon stood before her wearing a black suit with a black tie.

  “Let me guess. Funeral?”

  “In a way. I wore it for you. Still drinking?”

  “Don’t start Clutch. It’s my life, remember?” she said. She stepped back from the door and offered him in. “Want something to drink?”

  “Water.”

  They moved into the kitchen and Tasha opened the refrigerator door. She grabbed a bottle of water out quickly, hoping Clutch hadn’t seen inside. Too late. “My God. All you have in your entire fridge is beer and wine. The trash can is overflowing with empties. You can’t be living this way.” Tasha turned toward him and offered him the bottle. “Clutch, I don’t need this shit. Now are you gonna tell me what you’re here for or just lecture me all day.” She felt herself growing angry and tried to keep her voice under control.