FROM THE DEVIL’S CRADLE 1

Feature Writer: jonnydough

Feature Title: FROM THE DEVIL’S CRADLE 1

Published: 06.04.2020

Story Codes: Erotic Horror

Synopsis: Sometimes the forces of Good and Evil Battle.

Author’s Notes: All characters are at least eighteen years of age.

 

From the Devil’s Cradle 1

Caleb Sparks sat with his hands folded on the table, casually he rolling his right wrist forward away an inch or so from him glancing at his CASIO Rangeman wristwatch, 21:17 hours that evening. Caleb let out a small sigh, he’d been sitting here for almost eight full hours. His back was starting to feel the discomfort of the steel chair for so long, his legs restless from the metal pushing against them stifling the blood flow.

He stood sliding the chair back, the steel legs of the heavy chair, groaned across the poorly done brown ceramic tile on the floor. As always Caleb pushed the chair back under the table where it belong, turned and started stretching his arms toward the white generic tile ceiling, raising up and down on his toes forcing blood to flow to his extremities and rolling his shoulders.

He smiled to himself, cops had no idea how to get information from someone who was not simple of mind. He had none to give, but they couldn’t get it if he did. Caleb had his back to the door bending over touching his toes when the door came flying open.

“Sit down. I said sit down!”

Caleb leisurely turned, slid the chair out as it groaned it’s resistance on the ceramic tile once again. Once seated he scooted the chair back under the steel table, same as he had during meals as a child. Sitting properly at the table had been something his mother asked of her children.

In front of Caleb once again sat, Richard Carnes, lead homicide detective for the police department in Austin, Texas for this case. Richard was pushing fifty a survivor of two failed marriages. He had sharp steel gray eyes, to Caleb they looked more like the eyes of a predator than a cop.

Despite being close to fifty, Richard was not the stereotypical looking cop, round in the middle. Richard though a bachelor who worked long hours tried to eat right when he could and managed to jog most days.

“Mr. Sparks, where were you at between 15:00 and 22:00 hours Wednesday night the 7th, Detective Carnes asked angrily?

“I’ve already answered that question, prior to you bringing me into the station,” Caleb said.

“Answer it again!”

“No, I’ve answered your question.”

“How did you know the victim, Johnathan White?”

“I answered that question when you first brought me into this room at 11:24 hours this morning,” Caleb said.

Detective Carnes face was blood red, he’d been playing this game with the man in front of him most of the day. Once asked a question Sparks would answer it, but once and only once no matter how many times he asked or how many ways he phrased the question.

Carnes slammed his fist on the steel table, “you will answer questions as many times as I ask. Do you understand?”

“I’ve answered that question previously also.”

Carnes wanted so bad to jump up and slap Caleb across the face. Two things kept him from it. Internal affairs had installed cameras in all the interrogation rooms only weeks ago. He also was not sure if help could get to him in time if he tried.

He knew little about Caleb Sparks. While he looked calm, docile as a lamb, he also looked like he could have torn the table in half. This in itself made Carnes suspicious of him, someone who could blend in, a man who would never look out of place anywhere and yet looked more dangerous than hardened killers Carnes had locked away.

To Detective Carnes, Caleb looked like a cheetah, quick and deadly yet also strong as an ox. He wore a long sleeve shirt with tan slacks, but the muscle underneath was evident. His eyes, calming yet sharp as any tack, with a warm carefree smile.

Carnes wondered about a few tiny scars he could see on Caleb’s hands; they were old, but they could be scars from someone’s fingernails. Maybe they had defended themselves from Caleb he thought.

Carnes had studied men for a long time, he could read them well, this helped make him the top detective for his department. His arrest record was impeccable. The F.B.I. had tried to recruit him many times due to his abilities. Caleb however was not readable; he was a blank slate and nothing Carnes had done seemed to alter that slate.

He could tell that within a few minutes of sitting down, Caleb had studied every inch of the room. His eyes moved slowly and casually as they had talked but had traveled the whole room floor to ceiling. Those not as trained as Richard was, would have never known Caleb had just surveilled the entire room.

Once he noticed how Caleb checked the room, Carnes had no doubt that he had studied the building as they passed through and entered the interrogation room. This could make him a high-end break and enter man; they were very detail oriented, though they usually avoided killing. The kind of men who stole expensive jewels, paintings and such. Those men almost always saw themselves as a Robin Hood.

What little he really knew about Caleb was in the thin folder he had in his hand, more accurately what anyone knew about Caleb was in that thin folder, a total of one printed out page. Caleb Sparks, thirty-six years old, single, six foot two, two hundred twenty-seven pounds according to the Department of Motor Vehicles. Brown hair, close cropped along with almost hypnotic brown eyes. Even Richard felt himself put off guard by Caleb’s eyes.

Carnes’ partner Jessica Mendez had looked at his photo and made the comment, ‘women have to be standing in line to fall all over him.’ Jessica had set out to canvas his neighborhood and his job to see if anyone had dated Caleb or knew who may have. ‘Any man that sexy had to be dating,'” she’d told Carnes.

Sparks never had a problem with authorities not even a parking ticket. It was almost like Caleb Sparks was born just two years ago, to have made thirty-four years old and never had any type of record. He was a high school graduate, never appeared to have had a job, that was until two years ago he went to work for a local publishing company.

Only two known relatives, Mother Maria Ramos and sister Lupe. He did not look Hispanic to Carnes, he looked white as could be, yet his Birth certificate listed Maria Ramos and mother, no father listed.

His high school was three states over in Dalvin, Richard had detectives from Dalvin checking the school to see if anyone there still remembered him and if he had been any trouble. Jacobs, a junior detective under Carnes and former Air Force pilot, had already reported he’d been a football and baseball star, valedictorian, student council president, National Honor Society according to news articles for the school and that was it he vanished.

Caleb had a social security card, voters registration card, drivers license which he only appeared to have got the last two items, two years ago also. No military records, no other employment history, no tax records before two years ago, nothing. Seven hundred eighty-seven thousand, four hundred seven dollars and twelve cents in the bank. No cell phone bill yet he had a cell phone, Carnes had seen him pocket it at home. Only utility bills, although Carnes had noticed a laptop sitting on a desk in the living room, no internet bill.

It’s like Caleb Sparks was born thirty-four years old officially. That was suspicious itself, much less his lack of a life period after that. If by chance Caleb was not who they were looking for, Richard made up his mind to find out just who Caleb Sparks was.

Carnes had noticed when he’d spoke with Caleb at his home, that everything was overly neat and in order, nothing out of place, not a speck of dust on any of the furniture. A bachelor’s home that neat and tidy was odd at best. Maybe there was a housekeeper, if so, he paid cash. No bills in his name for that either. No car payment, apparently the Ford Raptor sitting in his driveway was paid for.

Carnes was hoping from this interview to gain something, anything that would convince a judge to sign a warrant to let them search Caleb’s home and truck. So far nothing, Caleb had simply refused the request made at first meeting. Repeated requests got Caleb’s standard answer, “I’ve already answered that question.”

What struck Carnes oddest out of all of this, was from the time he walked up to him cutting his grass till this moment right now there had been no surprise registered from Caleb. There was no fear, no anger, no anxiety, no stuttering, no hesitation, no worry, no doubt, nothing. It was like the man had no emotions except one, of being pleasant and open. So pleasant that it was infuriating.

Carnes finally searching an opening again. “It says here that you work for Cooks Randomized Books Publishing.”

Caleb sat for a second. “Is that a question or a statement Detective?”

The urge again to smack Caleb arose, he knew damn well it was a question.

“It’s a fucking question!”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“One year, ten months and four days.”

“You know exactly to the day, how long you have worked there,” Carnes chuckled sarcastically?

“Yes and so do you. It’s in the file in your hand.”

“What did you do prior to taking the job with Randomized?”

“What does your file say,” Caleb asked.

“It doesn’t say a goddam…,” Carnes felt he’d been trapped as soon as he went to answering questions. “What did you do,” Carnes demanded!

“Detective Carnes, you pulled my life history, yes? No need to answer I know you did. You are the detective; you tell me what is missing from that file.”

“I will tell you what’s missing dammit. From eighteen to thirty-four you don’t exist.”

Caleb with that still friendly smile, “Yet here we are.”

Caleb’s cell phone vibrated, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket, tapped around on it.

“Give me that phone!”

Caleb handed the phone to Carnes.

“What’s the damn pass code?”

Caleb just sat looking at Carnes.

What is the code, Carnes demanded again? Touching a button on the back the detective realized there was a fingerprint scanner on it. Without debating the outcome and against better judgement, he grabbed Caleb’s right hand that was on the table. Carnes wasn’t even sure how it all began to go bad, till he watched the playback of the video footage from the interrogation room the next day.

Caleb had moved like a cat, even appeared to be almost a blur on the video. Carnes had yanked Caleb’s right hand toward him. In the process Caleb had came out of his seat, grabbing Carnes tie by the knot. In the blink of an eye, Carnes’ head was against the table and he was being pulled across it by his tie.

Once across, Caleb had kicked the heavy steel table pushing it against the door. The table alone usually took two to three men to move. It was large and heavy to keep suspects from using it as a weapon, yet Caleb just kicked it across the floor and against the door like nothing.

It was about at that point Carnes’ had an accurate account of what happened. Caleb had held his right hand out. My phone Detective if you please as calm and gentle as he had been all day. Carnes had placed it in his hand causing Caleb to release him sitting his feet on the floor. Caleb’s expression had never changed during the event, just that warm pleasant smile.

Officers rushed from the viewing room as Caleb sat the steel chair upright and set himself down tapping on his phone and returning it to his pocket. They pushed the door open, the steel legs of the table screaming across the tile.

A detective making through the door first held a taser. “Get the fuck down now he screamed.”

Carnes held up his hand. “Son you just assaulted a police officer,” he said rubbing his neck.

“No, I just stopped a thief wearing a badge, which is exactly what that camera and audio will show the judge,” Caleb said nodding toward the I.A. camera mounted in the ceiling. “One trying to search property without a warrant or permission.”

“You handed me the phone Mr. Sparks.”

“I did, yet you grabbed my person trying to make me unlock it. Same as if you had taken keys out of my pocket and opened my car without a warrant, entered my home and started searching without my approval or warrant.”

Detective Mendez came in as a few officers straightened the table back in front of Caleb. “Why don’t you get some coffee Rich,” she asked Detective Carnes coming in the room?

Jessica sat down across the table from Caleb. His damn eyes she thought forcing herself to pull away from them.

“I’m sorry Detective Mendez,” Caleb spoke first.

“Oh. Why is that?”

“That we met this way, I’d have asked you out had we bumped into one another in the gym or supermarket.”

She could tell by his tone and speech pattern he was not just trying to get her off balance, his voice and damn eyes indicated he was sincere. “What gym do you go to Caleb?”

“I must confess I do not, I work out at home. It was more just a statement of admiration,” he smiled.

“How do you know that camera records audio Caleb?”

“The spot under the red light is a mic receiver. The way it seems to be forgotten by Detective Carnes, I assume it’s there either from your Internal Affairs or maybe a federal agency and installed recently.”

Jessica nodded, the man in front of her was not your typical suspect.

“I’ve spent most of the day canvasing your neighborhood you know what I found?”

“That I keep to myself, help others when I see they need it without being asked and I am quite?”

Jessica laughed, “almost word for word.”

She opened the file Carnes had left. “It says here your mother’s name is Ramos.”

“It was Detective.”

“Was?”

“She is deceased.”

“Oh, I’m…”

It’s ok Detective Mendez.

“May I ask what happened.”

“Police killed her.”

“Oh… I’m sorry to hear that… I…”

“Not your fault Detective it was a long time ago, chances are you were in high school when it happened.”

“Can I ask what happened? You don’t have to answer that of course. I’m… Well sorry and just wondered.”

“She was sitting at a diner with my sister, Lupe, two gang bangers ran in tweaked up and started firing. Lupe and my mother where hit along with five other patrons.”

“It thought you said police killed your mother?”

“They did. The Detective in charge of negotiations refused to trade a car for medical treatment of those inside. My mother bled to death on the floor in that diner, corner said it probably took twenty minutes for her to bleed out as she held my sister to her. My sister died they said immediately from a gunshot to the head, Lupe was in the arms of my dying mother the whole time. They could have easily picked the bangers up a couple streets over had they given them the car. Lupe was eighteen.”

Detective Mendez suppressed the tears welling up in her eyes and the lump in her throat. “I am sorry Caleb. You really do not look like your mother was Hispanic if I may say.”

“I was adopted Detective.”

“Oh… I’m sorry Caleb.”

“No need to be. She was the best woman this world had known. Angels cried the day she was taken from this world.”

Fighting the lump in her throat again “Do you own a handgun?”

“Yes.”

“Yet none come back registered to you.”

“This state does not require a citizen of the union to register firearms Detective.”

“Would you mind if we test you for gunshot residue.”

You’d find residue Detective.

Why?

“This morning at 07:13 hours I walked into Red’s Range on highway 9 with my pistol and fired seven, nineteen round magazines, plus the one in the chamber for a total of 134 rounds, at targets. I reloaded the magazines and weapon then departed. I departed at 08:22 hours and headed home. Why would you want to test for GSR? The man in question, his cause of death is unknown according to Dick, there are no signs of any trauma, much less a gunshot wound.”

Jessica laughed at his usage of Dick for Richard. “So if I go to Red’s they will say you were there?”

“Unless they lie.”

“Let me guess you paid cash.”

“I did.”

“So no physical record you were there.”

“Other than the two security cameras in the parking lot that will show you, I arrived and departed. The one over the counter where I paid and the four on the range itself to monitor any misuse and handling of firearms…” “Or if you wish to tie your forensics team up, pulling all 9mm brass and check prints on them all you will surely find mine.”

Jessica laughed. “You always notice cameras where you go?

“Don’t you Detective?”

“So were you a cop or something at one time,” Jessica tried that angle?

“No just and observant person. I did do a ride along with Dalvin P.D. when I was sixteen,” he said smiling.

“What would you say is your best quality Caleb?”

“I’m patient.”

She nodded, “So I stopped by your job today.”

“I know detective my boss has sent several threatening text about my livelihood in the almost nine hours I’ve been here.”

“Funny nobody I talked to today around your home or work seem to know of you dating anyone.”

“I don’t date just anyone Detective.”

Jessica leaned back, “Yet you would have asked me out you said?”

Caleb nodded.

“So why me then? Or was it a ploy because I am a woman?”

“It’ was no ploy detective, just an honest thought when I saw you today. You’re attractive, fit, strong willed, independent, passionate about your work. I bet that bleeds over into your personal life, the passionate part. I would wager you date cops mainly and wonder why it’s not returned in the way you give.”

Jessica tried to hide the surprise she felt. He seemed to know almost as much about her as she did him. “I don’t date men accused of murder Mr. Sparks.”

“Oh I’m accused now of murder? Yet the cause of death is unknown. I’ve neither been arrested or read any rights. I remember voluntarily coming down here without cuffs.”

“Touché Mr. Sparks, Touché. Poor choice of words on my part.”

“Can I ask you something Detective Mendez since we are on official names again?”

Richard may have wanted to jump over the desk and smack him, she wanted to jump over the desk and kiss him. “Sure why not?”

“So can I see a picture of the alleged victim? I mean if that is what he is, a victim, since there were signs of trauma or foul play,” as Dick said.

Jessica laughed that time. “He hates people using Dick for Richard.”

“I wasn’t,” Caleb smiled which made Jessica laugh harder.

“Detective Carnes told you all of this?”

“He said it to another detective on the phone, while I was changing shoes to come here. My hometown detectives, sending them to my school. So why don’t you tell me what you know about the alleged victim, I’ve told you what I know Detective? Which is nothing.”

“Mr. White was found dead in his home reading your book. Not just one from the company you work at, but your book, the one you wrote. He also had posted several critical reviews or more like rants on your company website of your book.”

“Yet how many times does Stephen King get brought down to a police station Detective Mendez? Dean Koonts? I’d wager never. So you find a dead man, no apparent cause. He owns my book so that is my motive because he wrote some random messages. Tell me Detective, did he own any other books? If so, did he post any other negative reviews? Did he order delivery and post any rantings about restaurants on their website? If so, are those authors or restaurant owners sitting in an interrogation room having their rights violated? Did he stop a McDonald’s, the ice cream machine not work as usual? Is the clown being interrogated? Sounds like he may just have been a miserable man.”

Jessica cleared her throat, this man in front of her was smart. “Nobody is violating your rights.”

“Your partner tried.”

“How do you know he’s my partner?”

“You dismissed him too easily. Grant you this is an equal country, unlike many, but police departments are historically male dominated. He’s old enough to be old school, which men like him, would normally prefer a male partner. That means he’s comfortable with you and trusts you to handle me in his absence. Trust developed by a partner.”

Jessica laughed, “You are an observant one Mr. Sparks.”

“The good cop bad cop routine though,” Caleb asked raising an eyebrow. “Does anyone fall for that? You send in the older rough brute to yell and scream, then the beautiful detective comes in to put you at ease.”

Jessica felt a little heat in her cheeks as Caleb spoke. She really wished she had bumped into him at the supermarket.

“Why do you talk with me and not Detective Carnes?”

“You carry a conversation, he tries interrogation, not very well, but he tries.”

Jessica opened her leather folio and slid two pictures of the deceased on the table to Caleb.

“Interesting.”

“Interesting?”

“Exactly as Dick said, no signs of trauma.”

“He could have a broken neck; we won’t know till the coroner finishes.”

“No there is no bruising, and his neck is not limp and is angled normally.”

“Maybe someone hit him in the heart hard enough to stop it.”

“Again no bruising and the force needed for that… beyond most human’s strength.”

“How about suffocation,” Jessica asked? She knew the answer but was surprised Caleb knew all this from some photos.

“This photo here, his eyes are open. No hemorrhaging in the eyes from lack of oxygen.”

“You can tell all that from photos? You sure you were not a cop? Maybe a doctor?”

“No I’ve seen CSI and The First 48,” he smiled.

Jessica could not help but laugh again.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. “Here you go detective, I believe your partner was obsessed with this,” Caleb laid the phone on the table and slid it to her.

She laughed; “we still need your fingerprint Caleb.”

He smiled inwardly; she’d changed back to Caleb.

“You won’t need it,” he said.

“Oh?”

Detective Carnes came busting in and took the phone from her. “Richard!”

“Son of a bitch!” Carnes screamed.

“What?”

“He wiped it Jess!” Carnes stormed from the room leaving the phone on the table.

Caleb smiled.

The door opened again almost immediately.

“Caleb are you ok? I am sorry for the delay; from the time I got the notification that you were brought in till I could get here was rather lengthy. I got here as quick as possible.”

“I’m fine,” Caleb said to the tall gorgeous redhead who had just came through the door.

“You are,” Jessica asked? “Counsel for Mr. Sparks?”

Sipping a cup of Starbucks the redhead replied. “Oh no, nothing quite that simple.”

“Jess please step out,” another man came in. A tall and distinguished looking black man in a well-tailored suit. Caleb picked up still a hint of a dialect in his speech from Nigeria. The man, Caleb would suspect had been educated in the States, maybe born here or spent most of his life here to have lost that much of his accent. The man carried both dignity and respect in his body language. Power and authority exuded from him and he spoke with kindness, yet authority.

“But Chief!”

“Jess”

Detective Mendez hurried to the observation room to watch the show with Carnes through the window.

“Chief of Detectives Marvin Wallace,” he said extending his hand to Caleb. “Sir I apologize for any misunderstanding that may have arisen from your voluntarily coming in today.”

Caleb took note of his name; he must have changed it to fit more in line with Americans. Shame that he probably done it to be more accepted by his peers, or maybe his parents did if he was born here.

Caleb stood taking his hand. “I would certainly hope you do not keep all your volunteer guests from the men’s room or something to drink for nine hours and twenty-four minutes,” he said. “Or even you non volunteer guests. Maybe they have more rights than us volunteers. I will unfortunately be speaking to my employer and see if any legal action needs to be designated for my office being brought into this.”

“Sir our department and the mayor herself will contact your office to ease any discomfort this caused all involved. Mayor Owens wishes me to convey her deepest apologies for any mistreatment of you., as you say you voluntarily came in today.”

“Yet the mayor is not here, she sent you.”

“Caleb,” the red head said laughing.

“May I speak privately to Detective Mendez, Chief Wallace?”

“Jess,” Chief Wallace said looking at the two-way mirror.

She came in “Yes boss?”

“Mr. Sparks the room is yours,” Chief Wallace said.

“Would you be so kind Detective,” Caleb said offering her to step into the hall with his extended arm?

“What can I do for you Caleb?”

Again he smiled inwardly, “if there is any assistance, I can be of you in this investigation please feel free to call me.”

Laughing, “you just reset your phone.”

“No as your partner said it has been wiped. I’m sure Kassandra will be taking it with her when she leaves anyway. I shall have another tomorrow.”

“Maybe… But what use could you be, you said you were not a cop.”

“Caleb’s turn now, Touché Jessica, but sometimes an outside ear or eye could be of use, as you said I am observant. Would you please be so kind as to have someone call me a cab, I’ve had enough police hospitality today.”

“I can have a car… Oh… you are right.” She walked him upfront to the desk sergeant. “Frank please call a cab for Caleb.” They shook hands and Caleb departed through the glass doors to await his cab.

Detective Mendez made it back to where she’d left the Chief and the tall redhead, she now assumed her name was Kassandra.

“I give you my word Miss Anderson, my department will not be picking Mr. Sparks up again in connection with anything.”

“That would be best Chief Wallace, rest assured Mr. Sparks is a model citizen and will break no laws. Now if you will excuse me, I must call my superior to report in and my airplane is sitting on the runway waiting.”

“This is bullshit Chief;” Carnes was screaming as Jessica approached. “Bullshit!”

“Detective I suggest you walk away while it is still up to you,” Kassandra was saying.

“Just who the fuck are you lady?”

“That is above your pay grade and then some.”

“Chief!”

“Richard, go while you still have a job,” Chief Wallace said. Detective Carnes slunk away making sure anyone in his wake felt his anger.

“If you will excuse me ma’am, I have damage control to do with my own people. My people are excellent at their jobs and this show of force to them will not go over well with them.” the Chief said walking away.

“Excuse me,” Jessica said to Kassandra. “Just who is Mr. Sparks? I mean he is the coolest customer I’ve ever met under scrutiny.”

“I’m not at liberty to say exactly who he is.”

“What can you say?”

“Walk with me Detective?”

“Jessica Mendez.”

“Jessica, let’s just say the man has been questioned before for a rather lengthy period of time with… One could say some of the more brutal methods.”

“Torture!” Jessica asked feeling anger flash in her, that someone had tortured him, then blushed realizing it had come through?

“Ahhh… I see,” Kassandra said.

“What?”

“Your interest is not merely professional. I can understand Mr. Sparks… Well he is a most interesting subject. As you say he is one cool customer, not to mention one cool drink of water,” she said smiling at Jessica. “He does like strong dark-haired women of the Latin persuasion.”

Jessica felt the heat in her cheeks.” I…” Forcing herself to regain composure, “Is he capable of murder?”

“Mr. Sparks can take a life as can most men,” Kassandra said sipping her coffee.

“Which is not the same thing, Jessica said. So he’s maybe CIA, DHS, DDS, some government spook and you are his handler,” Jessica asked?

Kassandra laughed, no “Mr. Sparks has never been in the CIA, nor any other law enforcement agency and I’m far from his handler. He is as he says, he works for a publishing company meeting with investors, writers and has written a very well received book from what I understand. While that particular type of fiction is not my cup of tea, I hear it’s rather good, my boss loves it and has an autographed copy.”

“Uh-huh. So you fly in from Washington to help budding writers as soon as they text you.”

“Rest assured Mr. Sparks did not notify me or anyone else when he was brought here. You… Well the police department did when they ran his name. Tell me did he ask you out?”

“Not exactly.”

“You should go, he never asks anyone out. Trust me he is not the man you are looking for,” Kassandra said heading for the station door. “Well the criminal you are looking for anyway.”

Jessica had turned back to head upstairs.

“Tell me detective,” Kassandra said stopping at the door, “do you believe in things that go bump in the night?”

Jessica turned at the bottom of the stairs, “only if it’s a headboard and I’m in the bed that’s making it.” Both women laughed. Jessica heading upstairs and Kassandra out to a waiting sedan on her phone.

Inside the sedan she reported to her boss, taken care of Madam President. “Yes ma’am. He’s fine. You’re welcome… He…”

Jessica made it up to the detective bull pen.

“It’s horse shit boss,” Carnes was saying as she came up.

“I’m telling each and everyone of you this. We do not have a murder, also this man Sparks better not get a fucking parking ticket from a meter maid. Do I make myself clear? Do I,” the Chief almost screamed. Some yes’s and nods?

“Just who the fuck is he boss,” Carnes asked”

“I have no idea, but I came straight from the mayor’s house, he is to be left alone.”

“Do you know who Kassandra is,” Jessica asked?

“All I know is she was on a plane headed from the White House as the mayor was speaking to the President. She called the Mayor personally not some aid or flunky but The President,” Chief Wallace said.

“Military, Detective Jacobs said. He must be military, maybe special operations of some sort, possibly civilian contractor.”

“What makes you say that,” Jessica asked?

“Both he and the lady said he was never a cop, yet his record has a gap. I flew some missions for spec ops guys when I was a pilot. Did you see the way he wears his watch?”

“Yeah, so he’s left-handed,” Jessica said.

“Not necessarily. What I mean he wore it face down.”

“Yeah so, some folks do that to avoid scratching it”

“True but some long-range shooters do it so they can see their watch without moving their arms only their eyes. We hauled a lot of Spec Ops guys, some of those we hauled were not your normal Spec Ops either.”

“What do you mean normal,” Jessica asked?

“Well most of the guys talked a lot of shit, laughed, gave us and each other shit. Hung around the planes. Even if they came from another base, you’d see them on base a few days before, sometimes after their missions, buying drinks and such. Carried normal weapons.”

“The weird kind wore a mask the whole time. Hard shell masked, well full helmets with tinted lenses, looked armored, you could not tell if they were black, white, brown, Asian, no skin exposed. There uniforms were not standard issue, their body armor damn sure wasn’t.

“Only a handful of them came, four at the most for any given time. Many times just one. They never spoke a word either. We took to calling them the ‘Zombie Squad,’ no body on base had even heard one speak, so people made up stories about them. You know they couldn’t speak, had not tongues, no eyes,” Jacobs laughed. “Even a few regular Spec Ops and Para Jump guys I got to know cut these guys a wide berth and asked who the fuck they were.”

“They would come on base in blacked out SUVs, limo tint, no plates or in blacked out civilian helicopters, no tail numbers on them. There was usually a woman in the front passenger seat of the SUV, could be her. I never got a good look at her. Dark glasses, hair was up, dressed nice from what I could see from the cockpit. Soon as they boarded, and the door closed, her and the SUV would depart base. Even the helicopters had tinted windows where you could not see the pilots. They also never had a return trip to base.”

“We dropped them off here or there. Many times they were jumping from so high they wore an oxygen supply. We would be in the civilian air space, flying commercial airplanes sometimes or like FedEx or UPS planes. I even flew a commercial plane full of passengers when one jumped. They had altered the belly of the plane to hold one-man underneath till we were over his area. Had to been freezing in there too, unless they had him some heat somehow.”

“Makes sense,” Jessica said. “Kassandra said he had endured prolonged interrogation, brutal interrogation. I suspect torture from the way she said it. If he did, I imagine he was laughing at us on the inside with what we were doing.”

“Where was all this the middle east Carnes,” asked, looking at Jacobs.

“No, let’s see… There was Salem Washington, Golden Colorado, even over just a bunch of swamp land in Louisiana. Others somewhere over Germany around Wolfsegg. Northern Switzerland. Several drops in Mexico and South America, Italy and one over the deepest part of Africa, I can’t remember off top of my head where, I just remember during our briefing they suggested not crashing. Apparently in that area they were cannibals’ and practiced Voodoo.”

“Last one I flew was the civilian plane into Moscow, that’s the one the guy jumped from the belly of the plane, about four years ago, right before I got out. Places with no known conflict or none involving the U.S.”

“You mean we have soldiers operating in North America,” Carnes asked astonished.

“Officially it was listed as “Training Missions” on our end. But trust me, you don’t want to know the details that keep the blanket of freedom you sleep under pulled tight Rich. Lethal men do lethal things to protect it.”

“You haul dangerous men around you know who is going in expecting heat and who isn’t, these men went lightly armed, sometimes with weapons I’ve still never seen other than in their hands. Hell one even carried a Katana sword strapped to him. Never seen any communication devices like normal troops with them either. I got the feeling they expected a one way trip every time they went,” Jacobs said.

“One-way trip,” Carnes asked?

“They expected to die and not come home, or they had accepted that fate, however you wish to look at it,” Jacobs said.

Jessica shivered from the chill across her spine. “Kassandra asked me something odd when she left.”

“What,” Chief Wallace asked?”

“If I believe in things that go bump in the night.”

“Fuck the ghost stories, just more horse shit,” Carnes said angrily, she’s here to cover up his crime.”

“What damn crime,” Chief Wallace shouted? “Right now we have a man dead, time of death between 15:00 and 22:00 last night. Official coroner’s report came in a few minutes ago, Mr. White died of severe dehydration. The kind that takes days without any fluids to transpire. What you would find if someone was lost in the desert for days. Toxicology report clean. No broken bones. No anything. On top of that there are over thirty witnesses and cameras that put Sparks at work then the party they threw immediately after at their reception hall.”

“Come on Chief, that’s crazy. Dehydration,” Carnes said?

“I agree,” Jessica said. “He was at home and had a half bottle of water sitting on the table beside him. He had bottles in the fridge and running water at home.”

“I’m telling you that is what the report says,” Wallace added. “How the hell could that man who just walked out of here do that. I don’t care if he is ex-military, law enforcement or a damn stone-cold serial killer? Unless he is the fucking boogey man, which he isn’t. White also had his cock out of his boxers did he suck him off so good that he dehydrated him? Now leave Sparks the fuck alone. I find any one of you question him as a suspect again you better call your union lawyer before you do. Your ass won’t be able to get a job parking cars at the hotel.”

Jessica’s phone rang, “Mendez,” she said answering it. “Where? Ok thanks. We have another one boss.”

“Another what Jess?”

“Dead man. No signs of trauma found reading a book. Wife just came home and found him dead in the kitchen sitting at the table.”

“What book,” Carnes asked?

She looked at the Chief then Carnes. “Into the Devil’s Cradle, By Roger Dowry or as we know him Caleb Sparks.”

“It has to…” Carnes started off.

“You go near him I will lock you up myself Richard,” do you understand me?

“Yeah boss.”

“I should have never let you talk me into this cockamamie theory to begin with,” Wallace said.

THE END OF CHAPTER ONE

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