Keeper of the Peace (Graveyard Guardians #2), Page 2

  This Reaper had dark blond hair and watery blue eyes that didn’t have any depth. They were the kind of eyes that just seemed … empty.

  Suddenly, the Reaper bucked his hips, sending Hannah forward, her knife slid across his throat involuntarily. Caught off guard, she pulled her knife hand away from his neck in attempt to steady herself.

  Even with blood seeping out of the wound on his neck, the Reaper took advantage of the moment. His fist flew up, connecting with her cheekbone. She felt the crack and for a moment, her world went fuzzy.

  Mere seconds later, the Reaper had the tables turned. Reapers were naturally a bit stronger than the average human, since they fed on human souls, but she was a trained Keeper and it was rare for one to get her in a position of which she couldn’t escape.

  And that is just what happened.

  He was on top of her before she knew what happened. The knife flew behind her, out of her reach. He pinned her arms above her head. She felt the mud encase her extremities, molding itself around her skin.

  “Not such a tough Keeper now, are you?” the Reaper taunted with a sick grin plastered across his face.

  “Shut up.” Hannah bucked beneath him in a petty attempt to get him off of her. “The Empress won’t win this.”

  He shook his head. “You have no idea what she is planning, and even if you did, it wouldn’t matter because you aren’t going to be around long enough to tell anyone.” He dropped his face down close to hers so that their lips were only an inch apart. Blood dripped from his neck wound, onto her chest where it stained her scrubs and mixed with the rain.

  Disgusted, she turned her face away.

  Think Hannah, do not let this asshole win. Her inner voice screamed at her. Fight Hannah!

  “I am going to taste your soul, Keeper.” Even against the cold sting of the rain and wind, she felt his breath hot against her neck.

  Fight!

  She felt a sudden lurch in her chest as her soul fought back against the pull of the Reaper and that kicked her back into action. “No,” she whispered, unable to breathe correctly. The Reaper didn’t stop so she gulped a breath and then brought her knee up as hard as she could, making direct contact with his groin. “Noooo!” She screamed as he buckled, losing his grip on her.

  Taking advantage of his weakness, she pushed him off of her and let him topple into the mud. Quickly, she searched the area for her knife, spotting it about three feet away from her and lunged for it. She landed hard in the mud. The liquid dirt sprayed out around her just as a crack of thunder rolled though the valley of Summer Hollow.

  “Shit,” she cursed. The knife handle was about four inches from her fingertips. At once she was on her hands and knees, but then she was flat in the mud again.

  The Reaper had recovered enough that he could grab her leg and yank her back. Struggling against the strength of the Reaper, she forced herself to scoot forward. Just. Another. Inch.

  Got it.

  “Come on, you little bitch.” The Reaper knelt over the top of her and forced her to roll over onto her back.

  “Fuck off, asshole,” she screamed in his face, then spit some of the rain away from her lips. His neck was still bleeding. His wound was worse than Lucy’s had been, but probably not deadly.

  “Shut up.” His fingers crept around until they were grasping her throat. She felt his grip tighten, digging into her windpipe.

  She coughed and looked into his empty, unfeeling eyes. It was then she knew that he was going to kill her if she didn’t do something.

  “What are you going to do now, huh?” The Reaper continued to taunt her, enjoying the sight of her impending death.

  “This!” Hannah managed to shout as she thrust her right hand upward.

  The Reapers grip loosened and his eyes widened with shock. Still straddling her, he looked down at his chest and saw Hannah’s knife protruding from his rib cage. “You fucking bitch,” he moaned, but didn’t reach down to take it out.

  Hannah crawled backward, scooting herself through the mud. When she felt she was a safe distance away from him, she stood and searched the ground for her other knife. The glint of silver appeared through mud. She hurried over and grabbed it just as the Reaper fell to the side.

  Blood appeared between his lips and his hands wrapped around the handle of the knife. Hannah had slid the blade up between his ribs at an angle that would have pierced the lungs and hopefully the heart.

  “They are here,” he whispered. “We are everywhere.”

  Hannah didn’t reply, she only watched as his eyes glazed over with the hollow look only death could cause.

  “Oh, fuck,” she whispered, looking down at the body of the Reaper. “Damn it.”

  You have to get out of here Hannah. Go! Her inner voice was yelling at her, but she couldn’t seem to look away. This was the first time she had killed anyone, even a Reaper.

  Slowly, she crept toward him, expecting him to leap for her at any moment. When she was sure that he wasn’t going to magically come back to life, she wrapped her fingers around the handle and grasped it tightly before pulling it out of the dead Reapers body.

  Go, Hannah!

  She turned and ran back to her car as fast as she could, first checking to make sure that no one was outside the community center. She couldn’t have anyone seeing her like this. Oh fuck, she had to take care of the body now.

  While she pulled out of the community center’s parking lot, soaking wet, shivering and covered with mud, she pulled out her phone and called her sister.

  “Hello?”

  “Lucy?”

  “Duh, you called me.”

  “Lucy. I need help … you guys have to get here right now.” She couldn’t stop shivering. It was so freaking cold.

  “Hannah, what happened?”

  “Luce, I killed a Reaper. I need help right now.”

  “I’m coming … we’re coming. Call the others,” Lucy ordered and then she clicked off.

  CHAPTER

  2

  DAVID

  Detective, David Foster wished that he could hit the gas and keep right on going.

  He had been wishing that a lot lately, but this time was different. This time, the case was in a little hick town called Summer Hollow … his hometown.

  The engine of his 68 Chevelle rumbled as if she knew his lead foot was itching. “Not now, baby,” he soothed her. “We have a case to check out.”

  It had been so long since he had been back to town and nothing appeared to be much different than when he left. There was still only one stop light. Everyone still smiled or nodded when they passed each other on the sidewalks. Kids on summer break still gathered at the pool and the 24-hour store. The lady who ran the hot dog cart still occupied the corner diagonal of the post office and directly across from the liquor store.

  Some places never changed and that was exactly the reason he had left in the first place.

  He wanted more.

  Summer Hollow had the smallest police department in the whole county and his aspirations were bigger than being a small-town cop. This life goal had led him to Los Angeles, where he spent several years as a patrol officer before he was promoted to detective, the role he most desired in the department.

  Then, shit hit the fan. An undercover job had gone bad and the chief had told him he couldn’t work for the LAPD anymore. The only saving grace was that the chief didn’t fire him, he made David quit instead. Sort of a ‘you can still be a cop, just not with my department’ type of deal. So, the only place he could find a job and still be a detective was Lake County. Fucking Lakeport. The city was not only one of the places he would least like to work, but also too close to his hometown.

  He slowed his car and stopped at a crosswalk so that a girl with a stroller and a sack of groceries could cross. The young girl waved and then hurried to the other side of the street. After he was sure she had made it safely to the other sidewalk, he pressed on the accelerator.

  When he hit the gas, several pedestria
ns turned to see where the loud engine was coming from. He smiled to himself when he looked over and saw the stares of admiration and envy in each set of eyes. He didn’t blame them, his car was beautiful. She was the love of his life at the moment and he understood why others would have the same appreciation for her that he had.

  He looked around, surprised there were so many people out already. A massive storm had hit the area a few hours ago, letting loose a torrential rain, along with some pretty nasty wind. The townspeople didn’t seem to care much because they were already out and about.

  A moment later he was turning the corner that led to the rodeo grounds. A cluster of cars, including the local police, were parked haphazardly in front of the senior center. He whipped his car in next to the rest of them and killed the engine.

  Near the entrance to the senior center, about ten seniors stood in a group gawking at the crime scene.

  “Hey!” Mrs. Bradley called out. “Hey, is that you David Foster?”

  David sighed, but turned and smiled politely. “Yes, Mrs. Bradley, it’s me.” He waved and the whole group of seniors waved back enthusiastically.

  “Someone was murdered!” she called back. “Is that why you’re here?”

  He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” He pointed in that general direction. “I better get to it now.”

  “Come over and visit us sometime and tell us about big city life.”

  “I will Mrs. Bradley,” he finished and then hurried toward the crime scene.

  Sheriff Davis was the first of the officials to see him approaching. He glanced at David and then squinted as if he thought he was hallucinating. When David got close enough, the sheriff smiled and adjusted his hat. “Well, well … look who’s back in town.”

  David nodded in greeting, “I’m not back in town. Just here to investigate the case.”

  The sheriff tilted his lips into a smirk. “Yeah, that’s what they all say. So, you’re working for the county?”

  Slipping his hand into the pocket of his blazer, David withdrew a set of rubber gloves and moved in the direction of the body. “Yes, sir. I’ve been placed up in Lakeport.”

  “Hmmm, I thought you left this place for the bigger and better LAPD. What changed your mind?”

  The body had been left as it was found, on its side in the mud. David squatted down so that he could get a better look at the victim. “I didn’t change my mind. There were circumstances beyond my control that got me transferred there.”

  “What kind of circumstances?” the sheriff pried.

  David responded without looking back, “I don’t want to talk about it. Now, can we please get to the task at hand?” He gestured to the body.

  Damn, the sheriff hadn’t changed a bit either. He would still talk your ear off, no matter what you were doing at the time. He glanced around the body, the mud was churned up all over the place, plus it appeared there were bruises on the victims face. “Well, there was definitely a struggle here. Do you know this guy?”

  He glanced up at the sheriff while he waited for an answer. The sheriff shook his head. “Nah, I’ve never seen him before. I don’t think he’s a local.”

  David reached around the body and carefully pulled the guys wallet out of the back of his pants. “Well, let’s see who he is then.” He flipped open the brown leather wallet. Inside he found the contents of a man who did not want to be identified. No credit cards or bank cards, but he had shit load of big bills on hand. No business cards or anything to identify where he was from or where he had been. His driver’s license was probably fake, but said the victim’s name was Jeffery Myers from Colorado.

  “Let’s run this and see what we find.” He held the card and wallet up for one of the local officers. A young deputy held out an evidence bag for him and he dropped it inside.

  To his surprise, Sheriff Davis stood back and let him do his job. Of course, he asked question after question and recapped him on events that had occurred since he left. David tried to tune him out as he worked, listening with half an ear and answering with the occasional ‘uh huh’ or ‘yeah’.

  He proceeded with his visual inspection of the body until the medical examiner arrived at the scene.

  “And Gregory Estmond passed away last month. Such a shame for the world to lose a guy like that.”

  David’s head swung up at the mention of his ex-girlfriends father. “Mr. Estmond died?”

  Sheriff Davis nodded. “Yeah, that bastard cancer got him.”

  Damn, he didn’t think anything could kill Greg, that old man was one of the toughest people he knew. Still squatting beside the body, he rocked back on his heels and wondered how Hannah was dealing with the loss.

  His first instinct was to go over and see her, but then he remembered that he would be lucky if she ever spoke to him again. If he had any regrets about leaving Summer Hollow, Hannah was one of them.

  He shook the thoughts away for the moment and concentrated on the dead body in front of him. It was definitely a murder, but self-defense was looking more and more like a possibility. Beside him, the medical examiner was waiting patiently for him to finish up so that they could begin their part of the job.

  He spoke briefly with the M.E. about the victim and then turned the body over to them. He had done what he could for now, the rest would have to wait until the body went to autopsy.

  The sheriff had finally moved on to harass someone else, leaving David available to check out the scene without someone chirping in his ear the whole time. He didn’t blame the guy for not being more involved in the inspection of the case. Murder was very, very, rare in Summer Hollow so the sheriff probably didn’t know how to handle it.

  David preferred to have the case to himself without the locals stepping on his toes anyway.

  He eyeballed the mud around the body. It was churned up pretty good. There were several foot prints and smeared hand prints all over. Whoever killed this guy certainly wasn’t thinking about getting caught, that’s for sure. The lack of secrecy and cover up of the crime indicated either a crime of passion or self-defense. People who wanted to kill someone intentionally would have tried to cover it up more.

  He pulled his phone from his pocket and took a few pictures of the foot and hand prints which were starting to set in the mud. He was beginning to think that finding the killer wasn’t going to be all that difficult. Really, it usually wasn’t hard, the majority of murders were committed spur of the moment and then the murderer runs without covering up the evidence. When they do try to hide any evidence of their crime, it’s in a hasty manner and they miss the most obvious things. Besides, technology has made solving crime a hell of a lot easier than in the past.

  The rain had washed away most of the foot prints surrounding the area where the victim was killed. But, he took a walk around the area anyway, to see if he could find anything that would give him a reason to why someone would want this man dead.

  He ended up off in the trees beyond where the body was found. There, where the trees provided a bit of cover from the rain, he found two sets of footprints that appeared to be running toward the crime scene. Again, he clicked a couple of pictures to examine later and then continued inspecting the area.

  After a few feet, the prints separated. One set veered off into the open area and disappeared. The other set stayed mainly within the trees, but then exited from the backside of the wooded area, which would indicate that person hadn’t wanted to be seen coming in from the front of the rodeo grounds.

  “Looks like we had someone who didn’t want to be noticed,” David mumbled to himself, giving the prints one last look before he headed back to the crime scene.

  He joined the gaggle of officials surrounding the body and knelt down by the medical examiner. “So?”

  “Well,” The guy glanced over at David. “The knife wound definitely killed him. There was a struggle, he may have hair or skin under his nails because of that but usually the M.E. over at the morgue takes those samples and sends them over. We are going to tr
ansport him over to Santa Rosa now.”

  “Why Santa Rosa, they aren’t a county hospital?”

  The guy grinned and shook his head. “Believe it or not, our hospital morgues have a fucking waiting list. We got permission to transport to Santa Rosa because it’s a murder. I’m assuming that you want the labs to come back ASAP, right?”

  David clapped the young M.E. on the back and stood. “That’s right. Good call.”

  “They are preparing to load him up now. I’ll send my final reports over there as soon as I’m finished.”

  “Thanks man.”

  It took him another twenty minutes to tell Sheriff Davis what was up and say goodbye. The old man shook David’s hand and executed one of his most serious expressions. “David, you’ve always been a good kid and if you ever want to come work for the SHPD, you have an open door here.”

  “That is a kind offer, Sheriff, but I wouldn’t plan on that happening anytime soon. I want to get back to the city as soon as I can. This thing here is only temporary.”

  The sheriff nodded, “We’ll see about that. Oh, and don’t you dare leave town without stopping by to see Mrs. Davis. She will tear me apart if she finds out you were here and didn’t stop in to say hello to her.”

  David nodded. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving without seeing her.”

  “Give us a heads up and I bet she will make a turkey dinner, just for you. Every Thanksgiving she mopes around because that damn bird reminds her of you.”

  David finally felt a happy memory from Summer Hollow slip into place. “I don’t know how I could turn that down. I’ll call her as soon as I know when I will be free. Thanks, Sheriff.” With that, he headed back to his car.

  It would be a couple of hours before the medical examiners over at the morgue would be able to get to the body, so he had some time to kill before heading over the mountain. He hadn’t really wanted anything to do with Summer Hollow anymore, mostly he just wanted to forget about it, but he found himself driving in the direction of his old house.

  He took Main, which turned into Highway 175, and headed out of town. As he drove, trees gradually got larger, shading the road from sun and causing everything to appear just a bit greener. Only a few minutes outside of Summer Hollow, he turned his baby into the small community called The Springs.