THE ACCIDENTAL EXORCIST

  DAWN TREADER PRESS

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright © 2010 Joshua Graham

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictiously. Any resemblance to actual locales, events or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions

  Cover art by Compassionate Eye Foundation/Kev

  Coming May 2012

  DARKROOM

  a thriller by Joshua Graham

  Praise for Joshua Graham’s debut novel BEYOND JUSTICE

  Barnes & Noble #1 Bestselling legal thriller (nookbooks)

  Barnes & Noble #1 Bestselling Christian Thriller (nookbooks)

  Best of 2010 Suspense Magazine

  “…A riveting legal thriller…. breaking new ground with a vengeance… demonically entertaining and surprisingly inspiring.”

  ~PUBLISHERS WEEKLY

  “…hits the ground running…handled by a deft hand.”

  ~Adrian Phoenix, IN THE BLOOD (Pocket Books)

  “This tense, fast-paced story of outrageous injustice, insidious evil, and looming disaster has everything the savvy reader should expect, and more. [Graham] belongs to a new, emerging wave of writers who dare to color outside conventional lines. And he does so with style!”

  ~Glen Scorgie, THE JOURNEY BACK TO EDEN (Zondervan)

  “…a genuine page-turner with a twist that makes it stand out from most thrillers and legal dramas.”

  “…What sets this thriller apart is the deft handling of religion.”

  “…When Graham turns to courtroom drama, the writing is tense; when he’s inside Sam’s mind, the emotions are wringing.”

  ~Author Magazine

  “This book was so much more than a mystery novel; it was an exercise in faith, understanding, joy and mercy in their purest forms.”

  “…twists, turns and surprises to be found here.”

  “…filled with so much in the way of emotion.”

  “…Take the time to read this book. You will not be disappointed.”

  ~Suspense Magazine

  “A MASTERFUL LEGAL THRILLER

  …A book worthy of a feature length Hollywood movie…

  …Graham has intricately woven together these elements of cyberspace and our criminal justice system in a way that keeps avid mystery readers spellbound.

  …Graham’s BEYOND JUSTICE is the best mystery novel that I have ever read.

  …a plot worthy of Hollywood, told by a fantastic author with a deft touch and feel for intrigue!

  …a fitting climax in true John Grisham form.

  …a powerful testament to faith and religion, woven into a masterful murder mystery.

  ~East County Magazine

  “This is not a tame Christian book, it’s full of heart wrenching scenes that will make you shudder.

  There’s one surprise after another and it’s a “can’t put down” thriller…the ending was brilliant!

  “This is Joshua Graham’s first book and it is a doozy!!

  I can’t wait to read more from this very talented author.”

  ~ReadingAtTheBeach.com

  “…a riveting legal thriller that has heart and a fabulous message.”

  “…really intense suspense!”

  “ I was…balled up with emotions and intense suspense from start to finish.”

  “…a great legal thriller…”

  “… great drama and romance as well.

  “…tied together with a fabulous message of love and redemption.“

  ~A Life in Review

  “…Superbly done!”

  “…a legal suspense thriller beyond any other.”

  “…Filled with page turning, edge of your seat twists.”

  “…most definitely a 5 star novel by an incredible author”

  “… this suspense novel will pick you up in one place, carry you through thrilling turns and emotional rides, and will set you down at an unexpected place, all the while leaving you with a powerful message that will set your mind to thinking. About life. About loss. About justice. About everything.”

  …Joshua Graham has become an author who I will be collecting books by for a long time to come and has made me anxious for his next book!

  ~Reviews by Molly D. Edwards

  “…an edge of your seat thrill ride from beginning to end.”

  “…a brilliant thriller filled with unforeseen plot twists and character behaviour changes unlike any other.”

  “…I quite literally was unable to set this book down…”

  “…Joshua Graham is definitely a name to keep an eye on, for he is one talented writer…”

  ~ Rundpinne

  “…the Best book I have read and reviewed this year.”

  “…this book isn’t just about law and criminal justice, it is about faith and realizing that everything happens for a reason.”

  “…I HIGHLY recommend Beyond Justice as a must read!

  ~The Winfields-7 Book Reviews

  “…right up there with the best.”

  “…will tug your heart. Don’t be surprised if a tear finds its way down your cheek.”

  “…more than just a mystery, more than just thriller, it’s in a word terrific!”

  “If you love a good thriller then pick up this book, you will not be disappointed.”

  ~Reading, Reading & Life

  …fair warning before you pick up Beyond Justice by Joshua Graham–the next 24 to 48 hours of your life will be utterly consumed by this book.

  …[had] my unconditional and unwavering attention from page one to the conclusion.

  …draws you in from the first page and literally does not let go of you or your emotions until the rollercoaster conclusion.

  …a powerfully gripping legal thriller

  …I was absolutely captivated

  …mesmerizing would be a gross understatement.

  …absolutely nothing short of an act of God or nature would have stopped me from finishing this book.

  …unbelievably powerful and spellbinding

  …the story will stay with you long after you finish it.

  …Do not hesitate. Rush to get your own copy of Beyond Justice.

  PsychoticState.net

  Connect with Joshua Graham at:

  http://www.joshua-graham.com

  http://www.facebook/J0shuaGraham

  http://www.twitter/J0shuaGraham

  THE ACCIDENTAL EXORCIST

  Joshua Graham

  I had to do it. They were my babies. Killing them was the only way to save them.

  Throughout her career as a forensic psychiatrist for the state of California, Abigail Lee had heard such words more times than she cared for. Usually, they came from suspects going for a NGRI (not guilty by reason of insanity) but were, in fact, groping for a Hail Mary.

  On the rare occasion, she'd find the suspect criminally insane. Unless it was so painfully obvious that San Diego District Attorney Thomas Walden would suddenly find Abby's services unnecessary. Such were the breaks—she'd still get paid at her standard rate of three hundred dollars per hour. But would NOT be asked to testify in court.

  Before her, in the tightly monitored visitation room in Salton Sea Women's Penitentiary, sat Cheryl Morgan. The Cheryl Morgan who had killed all three of her children by suffocating them with Mylar bags. Her trial was set for next month, but it didn't seem like she would survive it.

  "Cheryl, you
need to talk with me. If there's any chance you might be found—"

  "Guilty! I did it. I killed them. How else should I be found?" From beneath the mussed strands of auburn hair, Cheryl's eyes—dark as ink—burned with hatred. Had she been properly groomed and dressed, you could have mistaken her for a Hollywood starlet, not the psychotic housewife and mother of three—who in cold blood murdered her own kids.

  "This isn't helping you."

  Cheryl's entire demeanor morphed suddenly, like one of those CGI special effects when a person transforms into a werewolf, or a zombie. A menacing smile faded into view, baring cruel canines. Her eyebrows sharpened, her gaze jagged. "And you're here…to help?"

  As though on the spindly legs of a tarantula, a chill crawled up Abby's spine. She'd seen just about every variety of psychotic over the past seven years, but something about Cheryl Morgan made her particularly uneasy. Post-partum psychosis—even with those resulting in infant fatalities never looked quite like this.

  "Cheryl..."

  "You have no idea what you're stepping into, my dear." Her feral eyes gazed straight into Abby's and for a moment arrested her breathing. A sense of dread coursed through her blood like Freon.

  Abby pushed back slightly on her chair, as if the extra inch of distance could protect her. "I'm only interested in knowing the truth."

  A snort, mixed with what sounded like a growl. Cheryl's voice deepened into a hollow, bottomless chasm of damnation. It was when she began to laugh maniacally that Abby knew something was different about her. Something that transcended schizophrenia and psychopathy. Cheryl smiled. But despite her chains it only made Abby more anxious. "Just what do you know of truth, sweetie?"

  "Something's not right. I know there's more beneath—"

  "More, yes. Legions more."

  At that very moment, Abby feared for her life. She envisioned Cheryl breaking her own chains with her bare hands and leaping onto her, and tearing her limbs from her body as a boy might pluck the legs off of a beetle. She stood abruptly.

  The chair scraped the concrete, fell on its back.

  "Guard!"

  Hands steepled, her head lowered, Cheryl stared up with eyes of pure evil. Wild hair hung on her shoulders which bounced as she laughed. Despite the blaring white overhead fluorescents, a thick darkness filled the room, smothering Abby. A darkness not perceived with the eyes.

  She pressed the intercom again. "Guard!"

  Slowly, Cheryl rose from her seat, her gaze focused. Abby had no doubt whatsoever that this murderous psychopath had every intention of hurting her.

  Abby beat her hand against the locked door repeatedly, the pounding echoing her own racing pulse. "Please! Somebody open the door!"

  Cheryl’s nails scraped against the worn varnish of the table, the sound reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard. She rose, her face pointed down and looking up through dark-ringed eyes, reddened with malice. Her voice dropped an octave into an eerie basso profundo. "You'd best run...or we'll take you too." More terrifying than the change in her voice was that it sounded like a chorus of evil.

  "Guard!"

  An empty shell of a person, Cheryl's body moved like a marionette. She bore her teeth, coiled her elbows back. Crouched slightly.

  There could be no doubt, this hellish...thing was about to pounce.

  Oh my God...

  A wolf-like snarl.

  Her eyes rolled back.

  Then she lunged.

  Abby squeezed her eyes shut.

  Let out a shriek.

  A loud slam.

  Rattling metal.

  Something grabbed her arm. Yanked her violently to one side. Her heart lodged so tight in her throat she couldn't speak. She opened her eyes expecting to find the ashen features of a female Hannibal Lechter.

  Instead, it was the dark complexion of Sergeant Grimes, the prison guard. She had pulled Abby aside and stood between her and Cheryl. “Sit down, Morgan!”

  The chain attached to her ankle restraints was pulled taut, like those connected to her wrists. Cheryl glared at them, then smiled as though nothing unusual had happened. She complied, sat nicely in her chair, tossed an errant lock of wiry hair from her face, and put her hands in her lap. Her entire demeanor transformed in an instant. She could have easily passed for one of the Stepford wives, so docile and sweet. “What’s the matter, Dr. Lee? You look like you’ve seen—”

  “Shut your mouth!” Sergeant Grimes turned to Abby, rolled her eyes and murmured, “Let these psychos talk too much and they try to get into your head.”

  “Yes, well…there’s usually a component of verbal manipulation involved.”

  They stepped out of the meeting room, but not before Cheryl waved goodbye with childish innocence and called out, “Thank you so much for coming to visit me. It was so nice to meet you, Doctor!”

  Superficially, there was nothing in Cheryl Morgan’s behavior that deviated from anything Abby had seen before, in both the legit “criminally insane” and the fakers. But there was something about her that struck a dissonant chord within her. She couldn’t say exactly what that was, but it was something deeper than a visceral reaction to the shift of Cheryl’s multiple personae. This disturbance resounded in a place deep within Abby’s thoughts. Somewhere deeper than she had been aware of, a place she didn’t know existed, heretofore.

  Grimes took her gently by the elbow and led her down a long hallway with flickering white tubes overhead. But for the soft padding of their feet, all was silent. Every now and then, the cries and shrieks of other female inmates could be heard echoing through the shut doors that led to numerous rows of cells. The Maximum Security Wing, however, remained deathly silent.

  Abby stopped and regarded Sergeant Grimes with a look of concern, meant to conceal her uneasiness at effect of the Cheryl Morgan episode. “You’re Ms. Morgan’s correctional officer, right?”

  “One of ‘em.”

  “Have you observed anything unusual in Ms. Morgan’s behavior—I mean, given that she is a psychopath?”

  “She sure talks a lot.”

  “To whom?”

  “Herself, other inmates in the cells around her.”

  “What does she talk about?”

  “Different things, ‘pending on who she is at the moment.”

  “How many personalities have you encountered?”

  Grimes rubbed her earlobe between her fingers. “Oh, I’d say...geeze, I’ve lost count. Maybe ten or more.”

  “Ten?”

  “That I’ve seen. But you don’t keep track of crap like that. You give ‘em their food, take ‘em to the dog walk, hose ‘em down, and don’t let them talk too much.”

  They continued to the end of the hallway. A dim light shined through the tiny square window at the upper part of the reinforced steel door. Grimes put her hand on the scanner and punched in a security code into the keypad.

  The locks disengaged loud and abrupt, echoing down the hall. Made Abby wince. Her heart stopped for a beat or two. In the intermediary area by the check-in desk, actual sunlight nosed its way into C-Block. Flecks of dust floated in the air like pixie dust, when in fact, they were nothing more than dead skin particles.

  Grimes put her hands on her belt. “Anything else I can help you with, Dr. Lee?”

  Abby took a deep breath. She couldn’t count how many times she’d visited potentially insane suspects, but none of her past experiences led her to this degree of disorientation and….anxiety. All she wanted to do was go home and take a long shower and try to forget the experience. But her scientific curiosity refused her any such indulgence. “How do the other inmates regard Ms. Morgan?”

  “Oh, they’s scared a’ her. Some of ‘em got all spooked and superstitious and crap. Call her some kinda voodoo-witch-doctor or somethin’.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “She get into their heads, ya know? Fact, just last week, Jessie Harper gone and hung herself with a noose she made out of her pants. They say Cheryl Morgan voodooed her and made her do
it.”

  Trying to shrug off the chill creeping up her spine, Abby huffed. “Many inmates harbor suicidal tendencies—”

  “Nah-ah! That Harper girl was a tough bitch! She’d a killed everyone around her before she ever done anything to herself. She was always mad and violent to others. But to herself? She was all narci—narccis…”

  “Narcissistic.”

  “Yeah, that’s the word. No one and nothing could have made her do that. But there she was one morning, hanging in her cell.”

  “What makes you think Cheryl had anything to do with it?”

  Grimes’ demeanor grew intense. She gazed straight into Abby’s eyes. “Her cell was right next door. And besides, the other inmates heard Cheryl whispering to Jessie all night, the night before.”

  “More than likely an unfortunate coincidence.”

  “We’ll never really know now, will we?”

  For the better part of her adult life, Abby had considered herself open-minded, able to consider the unlikely, sometimes even the impossible. But today, her credulity tank was running on empty, even though that something deep within warned her not to ignore it. “Some things are as good as fact. Thanks for your help, Sergeant.”

  “Anytime, Doc. Come and visit any time.”

  A wry smirk. “Yeah.”

  Halfway to the exit, Grimes called out. “Hey Doc, what’s the verdict?”

  Abby stopped, turned around. “The trial’s next month.”

  “I mean, are you going to report her as criminally insane or not?”

  That was, after all, the question, wasn’t it? Part of Abby wanted nothing more than to see Cheryl put away forever, the proverbial key thrown away. And this too was an unfamiliar feeling. But the professional in her compelled her to execute her duties to the best of her abilities, with the utmost integrity.