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Authors: Lee Driver

Tags: #romance, #horror, #mystery, #ghosts, #fantasy, #paranormal, #supernatural, #native american, #detective, #haunting, #shapeshifter

Fatal Storm

BOOK: Fatal Storm
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Fatal Storm

5th Chase Dagger Mystery

Lee Driver

 

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
events, locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Any
slights of people, places, or organizations is purely
unintentional.

 

 

Copyright ©2011 by Lee Driver

All rights reserved.

This book, or parts thereof, may not be
reproduced in any form without permission.

 

ISBN 978-0-9846357-2-6

 

Smashwords Edition

 

 

 

Part One

 

Energy is neither created nor destroyed, it
just changes form

 

Albert Einstein

(1879-1955)

 

 

- 1 -

 

The storm kicked into high gear battering the
glass dome with rain so loud it echoed through the cavernous foyer.
A figure on the stairs halted as lights flickered in a continuous
pulse, as though the house itself were alive. She waited, not
realizing she had been holding her breath, and then the lights gave
one last wavering flash.

“Great,” she mumbled. Her fingers grappled
for the railing as her foot cautiously sought the next stair. “It’s
just a little rain,” she whispered, slowly working her way down the
sweeping staircase. The foyer was the focal point of the house,
reaching beyond the two stories to a glass dome. But the flashes of
light played tricks on her eyes. Shadows appeared to linger on the
second floor landing, jockeying for position at the railing to
watch her careful descent. One minute she was contemplating how
exquisite the aged mansion must have been during its heyday, the
next she was imagining that every person who had ever lived here
had just risen from the dust to watch her every move. She shivered
at the thought and cursed herself for not checking the batteries in
the flashlight.

A crash of thunder rumbled through the
building like a never ending freight train. She could swear the
entire staircase was vibrating. Lightning continued its spectacle,
illuminating the foyer like headache-inducing strobe lights. Maybe
it was the shadows or the flashes but for one sick moment she could
swear the lightning was green.

She averted her gaze but the shadows
downstairs looked just as menacing. She slapped the flashlight
against her hand. How like her hosts to give her a flashlight with
weak batteries. If she concentrated she could ignore the storm and
focus on other sounds, like voices, heavy footsteps, or the clatter
of equipment. Between the rumbles and clashes she should have heard
something. Where was everyone? They should have stayed together,
but it was her idea to go off on her own. The whole night had been
boring until the storm. Then all hell broke loose. Were they hiding
in a room waiting for her to run screaming into the night? She
wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. She was a Monroe, dammit, and
Monroes never back down from a challenge. She squared her shoulders
and forged on.

Her fingers cautiously touched the banister,
far be it for her to clamp her whole hand onto the years of caked
dirt she had seen on most of the surfaces in the house. As her foot
contacted the next step, she felt something rush past—a breeze, a
shadow, which stopped her cold. It was just her imagination playing
tricks, she reminded herself. Had to be. Maybe someone had opened
the front door. But then a cold breath touched her cheek, bringing
with it a wall of frigid air.

Stop him.

“What?” She gasped and whipped her arm around
but it didn’t touch anything solid, only a cold that raised the
hair on her arms. Her eyes peeled through the layers of darkness,
and as the lightning flashed she could swear she saw a shadow next
to her. “Deep breath,” she told herself. “Stay calm.”

The words came again, the breath cold and
damp against her ear. When lightning flashed through the domed
window, the shadow formed the shape of a man.

Stop
him
.

A scream caught in her throat. She tore down
the staircase, losing her grip on the flashlight as it skipped and
banged away from her grasp. She tried to remember the layout of the
house. Was the library to the right or left? Did she leave her
purse in the library or the living room? The thunder was so loud
and continuous, she doubted the others heard the commotion in the
foyer.

The floor came up quickly. Her feet
touched a cylindrical object sending her sprawling onto the cold
marble.
Damn, why did I have to wear my
good leather slacks
? Heeled boots wasn’t a smart
choice of footwear, either. But she had wanted to look her best for
the photographer who had taken pictures earlier. He was the smart
one having left while there was still daylight.

She stole another glance at the domed window
where the green sky turned in a dizzying circular pattern. Where
was the lightning now when she needed it most? Which way was the
entrance? She scrambled to her feet, embarrassed at her own show of
fear. With arms outstretched to keep from plowing into a wall, she
ran, expecting to reach the entryway but her toe struck something
solid, a partial threshold or step. Her body crashed against a wall
and then she was falling, too stunned to try to catch herself. She
had visions of sailing down a flight of basement stairs and gave a
quick assessment as to which part of her body she could afford to
injure. Too quickly her head slammed against a hard surface. The
lightning decided it had had a long enough break and commenced its
macabre show, sending shadows darting and swimming in front of her
eyes. But before she passed out Sheila could swear she wasn’t
alone.

 

 

- 2 -

 

“We should have brought out the candles
before the storm started.” Venus fumbled with the box of matches.
The tip flared. She lit three pillar candles then froze. “Did you
hear a scream?”

Josh straightened, tilted his head. Tufts of
hair stood erect on the top of his head, his shadow creating
devil’s horns. Venus had to turn away because the flickering and
dancing of the candlelight made the image too realistic. “I didn’t
hear anything. It’s probably the wind. Let’s get these candles to
the library.”

They moved quickly down the hallway, through
the foyer and into the room to the right of the sweeping staircase.
Venus kept her eyes straight ahead, avoiding the patches of dark
surrounding them. Once in the library they located more candles and
placed them on the tables and the fireplace mantle. Heavy velvet
swags held the drapes open allowing the lightning to illuminate the
room.

The storm had whipped into an angry frenzy,
sending torrents of rain against the tall windows. The thunder and
lightning display barely paused for a collective sigh before
starting up again. The mansion seemed to amplify the sounds,
sending them bouncing from one room to the next.

“Did you hear that?” Venus asked. A cry,
faint at first, could barely be heard over nature’s ruckus. It
wasn’t a scream this time, but a soft voice, a child’s voice.

“Shhhhh.” He ducked behind the tripod and
peered through an infrared camera, the hair on his arms bristling
as a bolt of lightning struck near the house.

“But you did hear it, right?” Venus gathered
her long skirt around her as though it could shield her from
whatever evil lurked in the house. She straightened and took a step
forward. “What is your name?” she called out. “Tell us why you are
crying.” She had already tried contacting the girl when they were
upstairs in the child’s bedroom.

“Try again, Venus.” The lanky man hovered
over the camera while keeping one eye on the EVP recorder.

“Did you used to live here?” Venus shook her
head and whispered, “I should have done a seance, Josh.”

“Wait.” Josh raised his head. “She said her
name.”

They cocked their heads, straining to hear.
The storm was so loud it was a wonder they could concentrate. Venus
tried again. “I’m sorry, honey. What did you say?”

The candles in the room flickered and swayed.
Shadows darted around furniture and into corners, playing some
weird game of hide and seek.

Julia

A squeal caught in Venus’ throat. She tugged
on Josh’s sleeve. “Did you hear her say her name?”

Mommy?

“Oh lord,” Josh moaned. “I hope our equipment
is picking this up. Where is Miss Monroe? She should be witnessing
this.”

Lightning bolts flashed like fiery shards of
glass, followed by rolling clashes of thunder. The sky outside had
turned a repulsive shade of green with menacing dark clouds plowing
across the landscape. Then the camera died along with the
recorder.

“What the hell?” Josh flipped the on/off
switch. “The battery backup went out on both.” He raised the
walkie-talkie to his lips but that wouldn’t work either. “First the
electricity, now the batteries? What’s up with that?”

They heard a clattering of footsteps pounding
down the staircase and into the library. “Hey. What the hell
happened to the cameras and recorders?”

“Take off those silly glasses, Flea,” Venus
sniped. “You scared me half to death.”

“I would have never made it down the stairs
without the night vision goggles.” Flea ripped the goggles off his
face almost pulling his wire-rimmed glasses with them. “Boring as
hell upstairs. Not a creature stirring.”

“Well, we have some action down here,” Josh
said.

Venus rubbed her hands over the lit candles
trying to add some warmth to her body. “I’m getting bad vibes from
this house.” As though in response, the lightning and thunder
increased.

“You’ve been saying that since we pulled up
in the van.” Josh removed the battery pack from the camera and
replaced it with a new one. He looked past Flea’s shoulder.
“Where’s Blondie?”

Flea shrugged. “She went off on her own half
an hour ago. Said she didn’t need a babysitter.”

“Well, everything’s out again,” Josh
reported. “And this time we lost the batteries, too.”

“I noticed that. You didn’t recharge
them.”

“Like hell. I always charge them.”

Josh looked at the chaos outside the windows.
Horizontal rain bent the trees. Branches blew across the landscape,
tumbling end over end. Through the flashes of light they could see
a strange mist crawling across the lawn, rising up as though
sniffing the air, then floating back down.

“Is there a tornado coming? We don’t even
have a radio to warn us.” Venus checked the various pieces of
equipment scattered around the table, most of which she didn’t have
a clue how they worked or what they did.

Josh motioned to Flea. “Grab a candle. Let’s
see if we can find Miss Monroe.”

They moved in unison to the large foyer. Flea
raised the candle and shouted, “BLONDIE.”

Venus hung onto Josh’s shirttail. “Don’t
leave me behind.”

“What kind of professionals are we?” Josh
looked at his two partners. “We have been doing this for two years.
One thunderstorm and we’re like a bunch of amateur teens sneaking
into an abandoned house. We were hired to do a job so lets do it
professionally.”

“You’re right,” Flea said in agreement. “But
I suggest we not separate.”

A loud clang echoed near the front door
causing even Josh to gasp in response. The three formed a tight
cluster as they stumbled into the entryway. Near the front door a
grandfather clock banged, its pendulum slowly keeping tempo.

“What the? How did...?” Flea stammered. “We
were told that thing hasn’t worked in years.” They watched and
waited as it finished its tune and clanged three times. Venus could
feel her heart clanging in time with the clock. Everyone remained
rooted, not sure what was going to happen next.

Josh cleared his throat. “Why don’t we check
to see if her car is still here.” They moved as though tethered
together by a very short rope. Flea pulled the front door open, the
wind almost wrestling the door from his grasp. The silver Jaguar
was still parked in the circular drive.

“Now what?” Flea asked as he forced the door
closed.

Venus pulled her phone from her pocket.
“Anyone know her cell phone number?”

The two men exchanged looks. “You’re the one
she called,” Flea told Josh.

“Yeah, but I only had her office number.
Besides, the cell towers are out, too.”

Venus studied the screen on her phone.
“You’re right. No service.”

“Let’s start upstairs.” Josh steered them
back to the staircase. “She was sucking down that wine pretty good.
She’s probably passed out in one of the bedrooms.”

Outside the storm clouds gathered over the
mansion, slowly circling. Lightning shot through the mass from
different directions, looking for the tallest structures. Inside
the mansion three people were unaware of the power that had
gathered nor the danger they had barely escaped.

BOOK: Fatal Storm
8.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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