《Forest of Lost Souls》


 Chapter 1 The Encounter

    "You have wandered into the Forest of Lost Souls." Whispers swirled around me in the fog.


    He found me! Huddled on the ground under a pile of leaves and shaking with fear, I fumbled with the leather pouch tied to my leg.


    When my car broke down, a man appeared out of nowhere and tapped on my window. He smiled, and by hand motions, indicated for me to unlatch the hood. Something about his eyes bothered me. They gleamed bright against his pale face. I sat alert. He pulled a pair of scissors from his back pocket and snipped apart the battery cables.


    My grandmother warned me about men like him.


    I was twelve when first attacked. While I was getting ready for school that morning, she came into my room with a leather pouch in her hand. Untying the string holding it together, the fabric fell open, and a flat knife was revealed.


    My eyes widened as I stared at the polished blade in the light. Grandmother smiled and handed it to me. The weapon felt weightless. I studied the pictures and words carved into its shaft while turning it over in my hand.


    "Keep the knife in this leather sheath and wear it tied against your leg.  Always be prepared to protect yourself. After school today, I will explain."


    I wanted to ask a question but stopped at her head shake.


    ¡°For now, Elizabeth be aware of your surroundings. But enough of that, hurry and eat breakfast. The bus will be early today.¡±


    Grandmother always seemed to know if a child was sick and missing school. I gobbled my food, grabbed my lunch bag, and slipped on my coat. The school bus stopped with a loud ¡®honk¡¯.


    My parents disappeared in the fog one day. Grandmother held me tight and whispered, ¡°It was their time.¡±


    I dreamed about seeing them floating in the air while waving and blowing kisses to me. They were happy.


    Later I found out, they swerved their car to miss a deer, hit a tree, flipped over, and landed in the deepest part of the lake. The car surfaced a year later, and the police retrieved their bodies. They had a proper burial. Throughout the ceremony, I clung to my grandmother and cried. She stood stoically and focused on something in the distance.


    But I digress. The attack at school was by Edward, the custodian. My stomach churned with nausea all morning. I slipped into the girls¡¯ bathroom and bent over the sink to throw up.


    He followed me in. ¡°I¡¯ve heard murmurs about you. They say you¡¯re the one.¡±


    I straightened and stared at him in the mirror. Overweight and furtive, the man always gave me the shivers when I passed by him mopping the floor. This time was something different. His mouth opened in a grin, revealing a set of rotten teeth. Eyes were dark and menacing. He held a rope knotted in each fist and raised it over my head. As the rough threads touched my neck, I screamed and popped him under his chin with the top of my head.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    His moment of stunned surprise was all I needed. I dropped to the floor, at the same time instinctively going for Grandmother¡¯s knife. Rolling out of reach, I crouched and waited. He came at me with slow, heavy steps.


    The thin knife now clutched in my hand; I went after the only thing I could reach. I stabbed his feet, driving my knife through the shoe leather. Up and down my hand went. I stopped when he fell and hit his head on the sink edge. Edward collapsed on the floor with an expression of surprise. Blood spread around him from his head wound. Slipping the knife back into its sheath, I sat on the floor and screamed.


    My teacher drove me home. The school administrator did not want my neighbors to see a student brought home in a police car. I was quiet all the way home and could feel Teacher Ms. Smith glancing at me. My mind was too full. Hoping Grandmother could give me some answers. Teacher¡¯s car barely stopped at the house, before I grabbed my bag and ran for the front door.


    ¡°Grandmother!¡± I yelled.


    ¡°In here, child. The school called and told me what happened.¡± She sat in the rocking chair, her hands busy with knitting.


    Always careful about her rules, I hung my school bag on the hook by the door. Rushing in the living room to my favorite chair, I collapsed on it and stared at her. ¡°You knew!¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± The needles clicked as her hands kept moving.


    ¡°The knife. All the wounds on his feet disappeared. Only the slits in the shoe leather remained. Police said he must have slipped on something and hit his head. They assumed I came in afterward and found him.¡±


    She put her knitting to the side and opened her arms. ¡°Come, child.¡±


    I threw myself against her chest. Soothing hands went up and down my back.


    ¡°The silver knife has passed through my family for many generations. Two things about it. You found out about its sharp and sure abilities, but also there is something else. No matter how you drop or throw it, the knife will always come back to your hand.¡±


    ¡°What is it for? Protection?¡±


    ¡°More than that, it attracts a rare element of evil. Something hidden deep inside a person. You may not ever need to use the knife again. But it will never leave you.¡±


    Ah, Grandmother, I wish what you said was true. You may have lived a peaceful existence with the knife, but not me. For the last twenty years, I have been attacked four, no five times, including today. Huddled under the leaves, I felt the ground vibrate under his heavy steps. Coming to a stop next to me, the heavy breather waited. My heart beat so hard, maybe that was what he noticed. He bent down to dig through the leaves.


    This was my chance. I sprang up behind him and sliced through his ankles. No longer able to stand, he fell forward. When his head hit a rock, it sounded like a loud drum.


    ¡°Good job. He is mine now.¡± The whisperer was back.


    A white mist swirled in front of me. I held the knife in my hand and slowly stood. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°Gatekeeper for the Forest of Lost Souls. Thank you for sending another one my way. You can¡¯t see them, but all the captives are pressed against the restraint, eager for a glance of the new Catcher. No need for the knife. They¡¯ve already been taken care of,¡± the voice chuckled.


    I raised the hem of my skirt and slid the blade in its sheath. ¡°You called me, the Catcher.¡±


    ¡°Yes. I received the other four you sent my way.¡±


    ¡°Grandmother said the knife has gone through our family for generations.¡±


    ¡°The stories I could tell. Your ancestors were very imaginative.¡±


    ¡°Are my parents here?¡±


    ¡°No, they went elsewhere. This is for only the worst of mankind.¡±


    ¡°Can they escape?¡±


    ¡°A few have tried. The second they pass through the grid, an electric shock hits them, and they dissolve in a flash of light. Very impressive, too. It keeps the others inside. The ones that dissolve go below to a worse place but that¡¯s my secret.¡±


    I sagged against a tree. My legs became weak. I tried to speak, but the effort was too much.


    ¡°Elizabeth. Yes, I know your name. The knife pulls energy from you. Go to your car. A helpful Samaritan will be by shortly and help you to get it going. Rest today.¡±


    ¡°Can I come back tomorrow and learn more about my ancestors and the knife?¡±


    ¡°Of course, I am easy to find.¡± In a swirl of mist, the ghostly Gatekeeper vanished.

 Chapter 2 The Beginning

    Sitting on a tree stump, I sipped from a water bottle and unwrapped my sandwich. The Gatekeeper¡¯s form shimmered before me.


    My cell phone pinged. I read the text message from Leon, my partner in the police department. ¡°Where are you?¡±


    He was just checking in with me about the car. I called him last night and told him about the ¡®bad battery¡¯. There were still a couple of days left of my vacation, so no worry.


    His next message caused me to frown. ¡°Captain wants you back, ASAP!¡± This was followed by a ¡®frowny face¡¯.


    ¡°Ah, another Lost Soul has appeared,¡± the Gatekeeper said.


    ¡°That can wait. Tell me a tale of my ancestors. Don¡¯t leave anything out.¡±


    ¡°I have been told my stories are the best. Many of your relatives sat in this same spot and listened to my tales.¡±


    ¡°But first explain how you got this position. If these lost souls are the worst, why are you here as Gatekeeper? Must have displeased the higher-up.¡±


    ¡°A misunderstanding. I explained the situation, pleaded for mercy, and was granted some leniency. But the original decision could not be reversed. I was to be sent to the Forest of Lost Souls, though since a Gatekeeper was needed, I was assigned. At least I¡¯m not stuck inside with the howlers.¡±


    ¡°How many years?¡±


    ¡°Too many to count,¡± he said with a sigh.


    ¡°Tell me about my mother. Was she a Catcher like grandmother and me?¡±


    ¡°She took the knife and then gave it back. Once touching the knife, the smell of Catcher lingered with her. It wasn¡¯t a deer they swerved to miss, but a deranged man standing in the road. He grabbed the front end of the car as it sped by and flipped it into the lake.¡±


    ¡°Could the knife have saved them?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes. If she got out and confronted him, the knife would have done the rest. The blade communicates when and how to attack. Did you think you were that expert at defending yourself?¡±


    ¡°Sometimes I wondered. The strategies I came up with were so bizarre.¡± The knife burned cold through the pouch against my leg. Somewhere a soul needed to be sent to the Forest. I ignored the call. My mind wanted more answers right now.


    The Gatekeeper seemed to understand. ¡°No hurry, she is waiting for you.¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°My grandmother, what of her? Was she safe while I had the knife?¡±


    ¡°Yes, the handover was complete. The scent of Catcher left her and entered you. Now, your grandmother was one of the best. Especially after one killed your grandfather. Her anger enhanced the Catcher scent. She sent me twenty souls.¡±


    The Gatekeeper¡¯s form seemed to sharpen in the mist as he recalled grandmother¡¯s exploits. Even the birds quieted as if waiting to hear the story.


    ¡°The knife was passed to Annabelle when she was twelve, like you. Her mistake with your mother was that she waited until her daughter was in her twenties. By then, married and a mother herself, she would not accept killing another human being no matter how vile.


    ¡°Annabelle was not just a Catcher, but a gifted Hunter and fearless. When fourteen, three of them tried to trap her in a hall at school. Surrounded; while waiting for them to approach, she flipped the knife back and forth from hand to hand and then up in the air. Pretending to miss a catch, she crouched down to retrieve it. The knife, of course, responded to her hand.


    ¡°In one motion, your grandmother flung the blade. It sliced through an attacker¡¯s neck and then returned to her. Another thought she was occupied and tried to sneak up from behind. Rising from a squat, without even a backward glance, her hand ripped the knife up the man¡¯s chest to his heart. The third man turned to run away. The blade caught him in the back and came out through his heart in the front. Since the wounds disappeared, there was a lot of head scratching by the police. How did three grown men fall and hit their heads?


    ¡°She sensed the evil hidden inside a person. Many tried to hide it from her to no avail.


    ¡°After your mother and father died, your grandmother and I discussed your future. She realized the blade had chosen its next heir. Not wanting to repeat her mistake with your mother, she passed it on when you turned twelve.


    ¡°Annabelle, your grandmother, was a sight to see standing in a warrior stance with long brown hair flowing behind her. You are a lot alike. Hair color, lithe build, attitude. In her later years, she pulled her silver hair into a top knot, while you wear yours in a horse¡¯s tail at your neck.¡±


    I smiled at the sudden change in the conversation. ¡°Times and styles change.¡±


    ¡°Not me. I¡¯m forever the same.¡±


    ¡°You understand, she died. I was coming back from her funeral. I¡¯ll return in a month to close out the house. My place is now in Dayton where I work as a police detective.¡±


    ¡°I have a confession. I knew you would be coming back this way and arranged for your car to stall. You¡¯ve sent four my way, and I wanted to meet and introduce myself. The fifth one delivered today was a bonus.¡±


    ¡°This stretch of road always had a strange pull to me. Now I understand why.¡± A text message pinged a warning on her cellphone. Her boss was getting insistent. This last note was from him.


    ¡°You must leave, I understand. A word of caution about this person you will find in Dayton. Women can be the most dangerous. They are beautiful, beguiling, and appear helpless. Don¡¯t let your partner be fooled. You of course will follow your instincts and ignore the emotions.¡±


    I dialed my captain, and when he answered, said, ¡°I should be back tonight. Come in to work late tonight, or early in the morning?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll all be gone for the day. Seven in the morning is best. I can brief you then. Safe trip home.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± I closed the phone and sat on the tree stump for a while. The Gatekeeper discreetly faded away. What I learned today was interesting. Grandmother never talked about her time as Catcher. She did not mention that part of her life. I shrugged and stood.


    Oh well, another needs to be sent to the Gatekeeper.

 CHAPTER 3 HUNTING

    T


    The office was quiet when I arrived. Focused on turning in their reports and going home for the night, officers clicked the keys on their computers and wrote up their reports. Mapes stood, picked up his evidence bags, and dropped them in baskets lining the wall. When I plopped my cup mug on the table, he glanced at me with a tired smile.


    ¡°Welcome back. You are in for a rough night. Two more victims while you were gone.¡±


    ¡°Captain wanted to see me this morning. Then I¡¯ll be back with Leon for the night shift.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ll be glad to see you. All Leon does is grumble about the new guy. He says Daley doesn¡¯t have any instincts. The guy almost got himself killed on their shift. They¡¯re in with the captain right now.¡±


    I glanced at the captain¡¯s office and saw him waving at me to come in. I locked up my gun first and then entered his office. Nothing changed in the time I was gone. There were piles of newspapers and folders. The only unused chair held a stack of dusty books. I came in, closed the door, and leaned against the wall.


    Captain Morris had dark circles under his eyes. His clothes were rumpled and stained with food. He must not have gone home for a couple of days. He tiredly said, ¡°Liz, this is Officer Daley. New guy got attacked by some street person last night. He didn¡¯t like Daley poking through his stuff. Pulled a knife.¡±


    The thin, short man started to defend himself. His buzz-cut scalp and perfectly shaved face glowed with eagerness. From the captain¡¯s expression, I knew this was not the first time he tried to explain himself.


    ¡°Later,¡± Captain Morris cut him off.


    I grinned and said, ¡°Thought the knife slashes were our new uniform regulation.


    Leon snickered at my comment.


    The captain said, ¡°There have been four murders so far. No pattern in their backgrounds to connect them. The method and design of wounds are all the same. Night killings, an X slashed across the chest, and then a stab to the heart. That is the only link. Here are the files. Your partner and Daley can fill you in about last night. I want this man off the streets tonight!¡±


    ¡°Have you considered it might not be a man? Possibly a female?¡± I remembered the Gatekeeper¡¯s warning.


    ¡°Studies say it is a man, in his mid-forties, with a mother issue,¡± Daley smirked as he corrected me.


    ¡°Is he going with us tonight? He¡¯ll be a liability.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll have you know, I have two degrees, one in law enforcement, the other in psychology. This is my expertise.¡±


    Morris growled and said, ¡°Yes. Try to keep him alive.¡±


    Leon and I left the office while Daley stayed behind and complained about me. I heard, ¡°Why is she coming along? A woman will be in the way.¡±


    ¡°Everything go all right with the funeral?¡± Leon rested his arm across my shoulders. We had clicked as partners on the first night. He never changed. Somehow his hair length, a long strand across his forehead, and the gruffy unshaven beard stayed the same every day.


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯ll go back next week and sign some papers to sell the house after we stop this person.¡±


    ¡°You think this could be a woman?¡±


    ¡°Uses a knife and gets close to the victim without him suspecting. Perhaps posing as a hooker.¡±


    Leon yawned. ¡°See you this evening. I need to get home to Amy and sleep.¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    ¡°Later,¡± I said.


    He picked up his backpack and wandered to the elevators.


    Daley stalked over to me and grabbed my arm. ¡°I am filing a complaint. I have connections upstairs. You do not have the training or knowledge to be on this case.¡±


    I glared at his hand until he removed it. ¡°Whatever. I¡¯ll see you tonight.¡± I unlocked my desk, slipped the gun back in my holster, and left. A reflection on a window revealed his angry expression. I grinned and thought, Mission accomplished.


    Because of my slim build and being a woman, people always underestimated me, though at five foot eight, I was taller than some of them. Leon and others who saw me in action understood my capabilities. I could flip and trap a man with five different techniques. My muscles were tight with no hint of fat. My usual routine involved the gym for three hours after the shift, buy groceries, eat, and then crash. I wake up in plenty of time to dress and spend some time on the computer before going to work. My social life was nil. How do I explain to some nicely dressed man that I chase and rid evil people from society?


    The silver knife glowed with warmth through its leather sheath. I returned to work, revved and eager to take this woman out. Leon saw my expression and grinned. He understood the signs. We were going hunting.


    Leon brought our unmarked car around. Daley tried to shove me aside and get in the front passenger seat. I stood my ground and gave him a hard elbow to the ribs. While he staggered back, I slipped in the seat and slammed the door. The man banged on the window until Leon remembered to unlock the back door.


    As Daley climbed in, Leon said, ¡°Liz has been my partner for three years. Newbies sit in the back. Watch out for the vomit. They may have missed some from last night.¡±


    I stared out at the passing streets as we cruised along. ¡°Quiet tonight.¡±


    ¡°Noticed. But it¡¯s early. Most of the attacks occurred around 10:00.¡±


    We got out of the car and walked the area, asking questions and making our presence known. This was where the first victim was found. When the knife on my leg stayed cool, I suggested we go on to the next location. Most night people knew us and were eager to talk. They wanted this ugliness to stop as much as we did. At the third site of the attack, warmth spread up my leg.


    ¡°We need to ask questions and examine some more,¡± I said.


    Daley snorted at my suggestion. He leaned his head back and sipped from a water bottle. ¡°Waste of time, I¡¯ll just stay here in the car. You can spin in circles.¡±


    ¡°This is part of our job. These people may have some answers.¡±


    ¡°Go for it.¡± Daley shut his eyes.


    I gave him a worried glance but closed my mouth. The Gatekeeper warned me about my partner, and I assumed he meant Leon. We left Daley with a smug look and closed eyes. Slipping into the shadows, I motioned Leon to follow me. He understood my strange instincts.


    After about a half hour, a lone woman dressed in a low-cut black evening dress and six-inch heels wandered down the street. Long blond hair cascaded down her shoulders. A curl lodged in the exposed vee between her breasts. She approached our car and bent over to tap on the window.  Her dress dropped lower off her shoulders and revealed a more tantalizing view.


    ¡°Don¡¯t suppose you can help me. My car broke down and cell phone battery died.¡±


    Daley¡¯s eyes popped open. When he saw who was standing there, his fingers fumbled with the door latch. ¡°Sure. Why not sit on the car seat, and I¡¯ll call for you.¡± He scrambled out of the car and held the door open for her.


    The woman pushed him to the side and slammed the car door shut. Her hand rammed into his chest pinning him against the car, Daley gazed into her eyes. He realized her intent and started struggling.


    ¡°Don¡¯t fight me, my love. I¡¯ve been searching for you. This song will connect us. I feel your response. We are meant to be together.¡± Her crooning voice had a mesmerizing quality. Her hand pushed on his chest until he was lifted and bent backward. A knife appeared in her other hand.


    In a trance-like state, Daley¡¯s breathing was deep and drawn out. He waited patiently for what was to come.


    My knife warned me about the evil lurking inside the woman. It struggled to be released from its sheath. All my pants were designed with a hidden zipper opening on the inside leg. I slid it down and untied the knife. The blade slipped smoothly into my hand.


    I threw the knife. It went straight through her, exited, and returned to my hand.


    Her head bounced off the sidewalk when Leon tackled her. He rolled her over and kicked the knife from her hand.


    Right before her eyes closed, she said, ¡°I thought I smelled you.¡±


    Daley woke from his trance and slid down to land on the sidewalk. He looked over at the dead woman. ¡°What just happened?¡±


    ¡°You were attacked. Your head hit the car when the hooker shoved you against it. That¡¯s why you¡¯re dazed. Just before slicing you up, I shoved her aside. She died when her head banged on the pavement.¡± Leon left out my knife thrust and lack of wound. Also, the woman¡¯s last words. He learned to let those things slide.


    I reached down to help Daley stand. ¡°Captain will be happy. You¡¯re still alive.¡±


    We spent the rest of our shift writing up reports and getting congratulations from co-workers. There was no question in my mind about the woman¡¯s guilt. Forensics would tie her knife to all the murders. Case closed. The Gatekeeper had a new occupant.

 CHAPTER 4 SADIE

    After closing the case on the female killer, my captain was so happy, that he let me take more vacation time. I sidetracked to the Forest of Lost Souls on the way back to Grandmother¡¯s house. While waiting for the Gatekeeper to appear, I glanced around the forest. What would happen if I walked past the gate into the compound? Do I instantly die and become one of the lost souls?


    ¡°No that won¡¯t happen. The only result is extreme dizziness and nausea. You might pass out, even. Strangers that wander this way always stagger out and throw up.¡±


    The Gatekeeper read my mind. That was scary!


    ¡°Only when you are close to me. At a distance, no I can¡¯t. Don¡¯t know why. Could be so people won¡¯t think you¡¯re crazy. Wandering around the forest, talking to yourself.¡±


    ¡°That was before cell phones with earpieces. Now we walk around and talk out loud seemingly to no one. But I came to hear more stories. Tell me another one about some past Catchers.¡±


    The Gatekeeper¡¯s form again darkened; the birds went still. I sat on the tree trunk and waited to start his tale.


    *****


    Your grandmother¡¯s mother was a hog caller. Sadie won all sorts of awards at county fairs. In our current time, she would have been a tremendous opera singer. Sadie was content to use her voice in the church choir and for calling hogs. A beautiful, petite woman, she appeared to be a child working alongside her husband on the farm.


    Her songs were intense and beguiling, even if only calling the hogs to come to eat. No, ¡®Sooouie!¡¯ for her. At the fairs, people came, not to compete, but to hear her magnificent voice. Funny part, all the hogs there for show would break from their pens and come searching for her. It was kind of like the Pied Piper in the children¡¯s story.


    He paused for a moment, lost in his memories. After a sigh, the Gatekeeper started again.


    *****


    She was only ten when her father passed her the knife. He must have had a premonition. The next day a storm blew through. Destroyed their house, killed her parents, and deposited Sadie in a tree. The preacher and his wife took her in. People commented she was a miracle child, because of never growing much taller than when she was ten plus her startling voice in such a small person. She blended in with their five boys and was treated like a baby sister.


    When Sadie married Jacob, he was seventeen, she was sixteen. By that time, she had already sent two lost souls to me. The couple rebuilt her destroyed house and farmed the property.


    A few years later, she had to kill another assailant. Realizing that her husband would hear from the townspeople about the poor man falling from a window at her feet, Sadie explained to Jacob about the knife. ¡°My father passed it to me the day before he died. I don¡¯t understand how, but if there is an evil person around, he finds me.¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    He gave her a ¡®what kind of crazy woman did I marry¡¯ stare.


    ¡°He told me that the knife was passed from generation to generation through our family.¡±


    She lifted her skirt and released the knife from its sheath. Tossing the blade into the air, the light shone on the silver metal as it spun around the room above their heads. As if tired of the game, it dropped and hung suspended above her open hand. She clicked her fingers and pointed. The knife flew toward the wall. It hit so hard that their house shook. After a few seconds of quivering and shaking loose from the wood, it extracted itself, and in a slow float, returned to her hand.


    Sadie explained, ¡°Father passed it to me and said it only worked against the Lost Souls with evil inside them. I used it on three instances, including the one today. Each time, the men rushed at me screaming with intent to kill. Not sure how they know, but one of them said something about the ¡®scent.¡±


    In those days, it wasn¡¯t because there was less evil, but simply because people were not as mobile. Seven years passed before she had to use it one last time. A traveling man rode up in his shiny 1938 van. In large letters it declared, GENERAL HANDYMAN. Printing on the sides offered to sharpen knives, repair tools, and fix wagons. He swung open his car door and stepped to the ground. The traveler appeared normal, tall, and lanky with a charming smile, but the hogs started squealing.


    Annabelle, who was six at the time, came running out of the house. The man¡¯s long arms caught her. Swinging her around so that she faced Sadie. His eyes gleamed with a dark intensity. With one big hand, he pinned the child against him. His other hand wrapped around her neck. He smiled and squeezed tighter. The child kicked and struggled, her face turning bright red. ¡°I smell a Catcher.¡±


    Jacob came running from the barn with a shotgun. He yelled, ¡°Hey!¡±


    The man turned to him. ¡°Is it you?¡±


    ¡°No, wrong one.¡± Sadie released the knife from her leg and pointed.


    It sunk deep into the man¡¯s forehead. He fell backward and landed spread-eagle on the ground. His face froze in a shocked expression as life left him. Sadie walked over and held her hand out. The knife quivered and then floated toward it. She slipped the weapon back into its sheath.


    ¡°While Jacob cuddled his crying child, he glanced down at the dead attacker. ¡°The wound has disappeared. Is he alive?¡±


    ¡°No, he¡¯s dead. The disappearance is part of the knife¡¯s mysticism. Another wound will surface. See that bruise forming on his forehead? The man slipped climbing out of his automobile and hit his head on the doorframe as he fell.¡±


    Jacob stared up at the sky as if searching for answers. After a few moments, he said in a controlled voice, ¡°I¡¯ll take him and the van to the sheriff. He can deal with it.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t mention the knife.¡±


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t planning to. You stay here with Annabelle, I¡¯ll handle this. I wish I knew about this from the beginning.¡±


    ¡°Would it have made a difference?¡± She took Annabelle from him and hugged the child.


    Jacob hefted the dead man into the passenger¡¯s side of the van. After slamming the door shut, he turned to her and stood confused, struggling for words.


    Sadie gave him a sad smile. ¡°Later we¡¯ll talk.¡±


    *****


    ¡°There were never any more episodes. They lived their days in peace working on the farm. Sadie had two boys; Annabelle¡¯s brother Seth died young. Thaddeus, well he had a restless spirit and wandered from place to place. He died before you turned twelve. Sadie, as you know, passed the knife on to Annabelle when she turned twelve.¡±


    Something the way he said, before you were twelve, caught my attention. I started to ask him about his phrasing when the Gatekeeper gave an enigmatic smile and faded into the mist.

 CHAPTER 5 GRANDMOTHER鈥橲 HOUSE

    In the past, Grandmother¡¯s house always appeared warm and friendly. Today, the place projected a distant, cold feeling. I sat in the car for a few moments overwhelmed by my emotions. I missed her so much. She was my refuge when life became too tough.


    With a sigh, I slid out and picked up my bag of groceries on the back seat. It was strange unlocking the door. Grandmother always met me on the steps with an apron tied around her waist. Walking in, I did not know what to expect, but nothing had changed. The house was in perfect order. Cushions on the chairs and sofa sat layered with precision. No dust settled anywhere. Her magazines were stacked neatly on the coffee table. The tidiness carried over into the kitchen. Cups, bowls, and plates sat lined up in the cabinet. Putting away the cold food in the refrigerator I smiled. Everything in there was neatly organized.


    A letter addressed to me in her handwriting lay on the table. She realized her death was coming and prepared for it.


    The letter started with:


    My dearest Beth,


    I have heard the call, faint at first, for a couple of days. My time is near. There are so many things I wanted to tell you in person but lacked the courage.


    I stopped reading and thought about her statement, lacked the courage? Grandmother was the bravest person I ever knew. Returning to the letter, what she wrote was even stranger.


    I dreaded writing it down, but you must be made aware of what happened. It is all recorded in the diaries I put on the shelf in your parents¡¯ room.


    Please do not think too harshly of me.


    Love forever,


    Grandmother


    My room was still the same from when I was a child. Grandmother told me it was up to me to redecorate, but somehow doing that, would erase what was left of my parents. We all lived together in my grandmother¡¯s house. Their room was on the second floor. I thought that after closing their bedroom door when they died, Grandmother never went upstairs again.


    Hmm.


    Following a quick walk through the house, I entered my room and stared at the neatly made bed. My mind and body were so tired. The mysteries could wait for tomorrow. I dropped my bag on a chair and sagged backward on the bed.


    My dreams were filled with Grandmother, her scent, gentle touch, and the distinctive way she said, ¡°Beth.¡±


    I smiled and opened my eyes. Grandmother stood next to my bed; her fingers caressed my forehead. I started to get up, but she gently pushed me back.


    ¡°Sleep, child. Later, read the diaries, then we will talk.¡±


    In the morning, I leaned against the kitchen counter and sipped my coffee. Bread popped up from the toaster. As I spread jam across it, I thought about my dream. Or was it something else? Grandmother¡¯s presence felt so real, her voice clear.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The logical part of my brain questioned, not ready to let go of her yet?


    I stood in the doorway of her room and took in the scene. Bed neatly made. Someone smoothed out the cover from where she lay. Her knitting basket was beside the rocking chair. I sat in the chair yearning to feel something of her presence.


    Nothing.


    Searching for answers, I pulled out her clothes and dug through the pockets while laying them on the bed. I then emptied her neatly folded belongings from the drawers. A cedar chest held treasures but not what I hoped for. It was full of hand-knitted blankets, baby clothes, and sweaters. My hand searched along the bottom for some papers or a note and came up empty. The only paper she left was the letter and a will filed with her lawyer.


    I examined my room. Could she have left something there? Afterward, standing with hands on my hips and surveying the room, I realized all this rummaging was to put off going upstairs.


    Grandmother, what secrets are you hiding up there?


    Trailing my hand along the banister, I climbed the stairs. At my parents¡¯ door, I turned the knob. It swung open on well-oiled hinges. I stepped into the dark room and fumbled for a light switch. The room was immaculate, dust free and with no spiders or webs. She kept it in perfect condition. A stack of books, Grandmother¡¯s diaries, sat on the table next to a rocking chair. The chair moved as if inviting me to sit.


    Resting in the chair, memories flooded my mind. As a child, I climbed up in my mother¡¯s lap, and she sang me to sleep. Father too would sit in it and read while smoking his pipe. Tears flowed down my cheeks. Grandmother never let me come up here and give them a final goodbye.


    Searching for a Kleenex, my hand knocked off the top diary. It landed on the floor and flipped open. Bending to pick up the book, words written in Grandmother¡¯s strong handwriting caught my attention.


    *****


    Beth, I wrote these to explain your past. Going over everything was painful, but it had to be told.


    My brother was one of the Lost Souls. I never understood what that meant until receiving the knife. Mother of course knew, but she could not kill her son, she left it up to me. But that is the end of the story. I must start at the beginning.


    When my mother, Sadie, married Jacob, she was unaware his family line was tainted. Both his father and brother preyed on young girls. After their accidental death, shocked neighbors discovered twenty victims buried in the fields.


    Jacob left town to escape his family¡¯s bloodied past. Working as a farm hand, that is when he met Sadie. Since he never told her about his family¡¯s history, she did not know about them until it was too late. Unknown to either one, her father sent those Lost Souls to the Gatekeeper.


    The first years of their marriage were normal, Sadie explained who she was, and Jacob though curious accepted it. Everything changed when she killed the traveling repairman. Father became restless. He would clutch Sadie and take deep breaths, drawing in her scent, and then disappear for days. She was left with me and my two brothers to work the farm. He returned each time whistling and in a pleased mood.


    I woke one night to hear my mother screaming, ¡°Jacob, don¡¯t do it!¡±


    Standing in the doorway of my brother¡¯s room, I watched my diminutive mother fight my huge strong father.


    He held my brother upside down with a huge knife ready to slice him in two. He growled, ¡°I couldn¡¯t fill the hunger. Just as I was about to satisfy it, police came with dogs and ran me off.¡±


    ¡°Not the baby, put him down, please.¡±


    ¡°Your scent is so strong. It drives me crazy. I must kill to soothe my burning soul.¡±


    ¡°Not Edgar, he is an innocent.¡±


    Mother was frantically pulling at something under her skirt. Light glimmered on a silver knife as she raised her hand. Pointing her finger, the blade flew across the room. It struck Father on his forehead. He fell backward. I remember the hollow sound his head made as it landed against the cabinet. Mother rushed forward and caught my screaming brother before he hit the floor.


    For the longest, I could still hear his screams in my dreams.


    It was hectic, what with the funeral, neighbors visiting, and bringing food. Through it all, Mother remained stiff and pale.


    People commented, ¡°It must be the shock. Him tripping over a rug and falling like that. So sudden.¡±


    After everything settled, Mother gave me the knife.


    *****


    I closed the diary and leaned back in the rocking chair. This was something the Gatekeeper failed to mention.

 CHAPTER 6 TRAGEDY

    The top two diaries were obviously the ones Grandmother wanted me to read. I reached for the second one, curious about what other family secrets it contained.


    This one was written with a shaky hand and splotches like teardrops sprinkled the pages. It started with:


    Edger was six when he died. I remember blood spewing everywhere. It burst out faster than Mother and I could control it. When he drew his last breath, Mother kissed his cheeks. I pulled a blanket off the bed and covered him.


    Mother held his wrapped body and rocked Edgar as if putting him to sleep.


    Marcus, my older brother, watched us with an intense expression.


    ¡°What happened?¡± I twisted around and stared at my older brother.


    ¡°Little brother got hold of a knife and stabbed himself,¡± he shrugged and shook his head.


    Something about his attitude bothered me. I started to say something, but Mother cut me off with a hand wave.


    Her voice raspy with emotion demanded, ¡°Marcus gather your stuff and leave this house forever. I never want to see your face again.¡±


    I turned to her and said, ¡°Mother, I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°He is a Lost Soul, defiled with evil as was his father. This was no accident, was it, Marcus?¡±


    My brother stood there with an odd smile. ¡°The blood went everywhere. But it was your fault, the scent churned inside me until I had to let it out.¡±


    ¡°Out now! Never to return! Annabelle put all the money from the cookie jar on the kitchen table and then step back. He is not to be trusted.¡±


    ¡°Marcus is only ten, you can¡¯t drive him from home.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s big for his age. He will survive. Can¡¯t say the same of us if he stays here.¡±


    ¡°You could just end it all with your silver knife. Like you did with father,¡± he sneered.


    ¡°No, Marcus, leave. I will not have your death on my conscience.¡±


    The next day was my twelfth birthday. Mother gave me the knife and explained why Marcus killed his brother. She used the same explanation as the Gatekeeper did later.


    ¡°Lost Souls,¡± she called them.


    With the silver knife in my possession, the attacks started when I was in school and continued through my marriage to George, your grandfather. It eased my spirit¡¯s pain when he died a natural death. But the last Lost Soul who confronted me left a devastating scar on my heart and conscience. I have not slept well since.


    Over the years, those who threatened me called me the Catcher and talked about my strong scent drawing them. When I questioned the Gatekeeper, he told me it was my title, a Catcher of Lost Souls. The beckoning scent was powerful in the best catchers.


    Maybe you already learned this from the Gatekeeper, but I thought it essential to write down the complete story. Your parents¡¯ deaths were not an accident, but an attack by a Lost Soul. I gave the knife to your mother.


    She held in her hand for a moment, thrust it back to me, and said, ¡°You¡¯re crazy, Mother. I don¡¯t buy into your superstitions.¡±


    I understand why she rejected the knife. Her husband, your father was a conservative preacher in the local church, and his sermons denounced all forms of magic.


    Not understanding all the consequences of what my daughter set in motion by holding the knife, I put it back in my leg sheath. I found out later that the Catcher scent was so strong, even holding it in her hand for less than a minute, attracted evil to her.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Your parents drove that afternoon to comfort a dying church member and his family. A wild looking, muscular man stepped in front of their car. His long black hair swirled and covered his face, but somehow his gleaming eyes showed through. While swerving to miss him, your parents¡¯ car went off the road and got stuck in the mud. When the man approached swinging a metal tire iron, your father frantically tried to rock it free. Using the tire iron as a weapon, the attacker smashed through the front window, swinging it at them until both were dead. He then freed the stuck car and shoved it over the edge into the lake.


    I found out this afterward when he came for me. You were in school so knew nothing about this.


    He approached the front porch, swinging his iron weapon. With a loud, hoarse voice the man called out, ¡°Hey sis, I¡¯ve come for you.¡±


    ¡°Marcus?¡±


    He nodded and said, ¡°Yep, that¡¯s me. Your only brother that¡¯s left since I killed the other. I was in the neighborhood and decided to stop by. You must have the knife; your Catcher scent is strong. I thought that was taken care of when I killed the two on the road. She had a faint odor, but nothing like yours.¡±


    ¡°What did you do?¡±


    ¡°Killed them with my handy tire iron. I smashed their window, killed them, and then pitched their car in the lake. It doesn¡¯t matter if she was not a Catcher, blood is blood and there was plenty of it.¡± Marcus swung his weapon in a circular motion.


    Breaking free from its sheath, the knife appeared in my hand. I pointed to my brother¡¯s forehead. The shining blade flew at him.


    He lifted his metal rod to block it. ¡°Oh no you don¡¯t. I¡¯ve seen this trick before when Dear Mama killed Papa.¡±


    The blade came back to me. I pointed to his feet, first one and then the other. He howled in pain as the knife pierced his leather shoes and stabbed his feet. Hopping from foot to foot, Marcus used the tire iron for a brace. When the weapon returned to me, I pointed at his forehead again. He fell backward, landing on the ground with a surprised expression.


    I decided there could be no explaining about him. I tied him to the bumper of my car and dragged him along until finding skid marks on the road. Sorrow filled me as I contemplated what my evil brother did. Beth, you and I were now alone.


    I pulled up close to the lake¡¯s edge, untied Marcus from the car¡¯s bumper, and shoved his body into the water.


    The last sentence in the diary was barely legible. Her handwriting was weak, and teardrops smeared the ink.


    Beth, forgive me, but on your twelfth birthday, I passed the knife to you.


    Tears coursed down my cheeks. My grandmother suffered so much. First watching her father die, then her brothers, and finally my parents. The knife was not a blessing, but a curse, drawing death and evil to whoever held it. I stood and picked up the books. Not interested in reading any more history, I went downstairs.


    The fireplace was set for the first cold morning. I lit the kindling and waited for the fire to catch. When the flames flared brightly, I threw in the diaries. A card fell out. I started to pitch it in also, but for some reason held back and put it in my pocket.


    Sitting on the sofa, I watched as the books turned into ashes. Grandmother¡¯s image materialized in her rocking chair. ¡°You did right, burning them. These books were only for you. Please don¡¯t be angry with me for not telling you before I died. The words were too hard to say.¡±


    ¡°I love you, Grandmother. If I¡¯m angry with anyone, it¡¯s the Gatekeeper. His ghostly tales though the best were full of half-truths, leaving the worst parts for you to tell me. I will not drive by the Forest of Lost Souls and plan on never talking to the Gatekeeper again. Just the thought of my relatives behind the walls, eager to get free and kill again. It turns my stomach.¡±


    ¡°Beth, please be at peace.¡±


    ¡°How can I be? I am condemned to never have children. No child of mine will carry this curse. I will die and not pass the knife on. Has anything been revealed about destroying the knife?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°I will spend the rest of my life finding a way.¡± My dismal future overwhelmed me. Sobs shook my body.


    Grandmother stood and surrounded me with her presence. Her ghostly touch calmed my mind and body. ¡°Your future is not so bad. I¡¯ve seen glimpses of it. Again, be at peace. Now, I have a chore for you. Gather all my clothes and take them to the church. Pass all the knitted pieces to the neighbors. They will need them this coming winter.¡±


    I smiled, even in death, Grandmother was still organized.


    The realtor came by the next day for me to sign a sales contract for the house with furnishings. He tried to talk me down to a lower price, ¡°You know it will be hard to sell? Someone died in the house.¡±


    ¡°It was a peaceful passing.¡±


    ¡°Neighbors say they see her ghost walking.¡±


    I studied him for a moment, ¡°You want the house for yourself?¡±


    ¡°No, no. Just considering it may be on the market for a while,¡± he stuttered.


    The house sold in a week for my asking price. I loaded my few belongings in the car, shook hands with the buyer, and dropped the house keys in his open hand.


    I drove off without a backward glance. Finished with the past, I was ready to move on with my life.


    Before I left, Grandmother appeared one more time. ¡°The card in your pocket. Don¡¯t lose it. That is your future.¡±


    Before I could question her, she smiled and disappeared.

 CHAPTER 7 A SURPRISE ENCOUNTER

    MOVING ON WITH MY LIFE


    It felt good getting back to work. Leon and I always met at a local coffee shop before starting the vampire shift as our coworkers called it. Coming back from vacation, my desk was probably littered with vampire pictures and cards. Once someone put Count Von Count the Sesame Street Vampire on my desk. Since then, no matter where I hid it, the doll always appeared tucked in my pencil holder, under papers, or sitting in my coffee cup.


    Leon sat across from me with a worried expression. He swirled his spoon round and round in the coffee cup.


    Finished with my meal, I leaned back and watched him. ¡°Alright, tell me. Are you transferring to the day shift? Got tired of prowling the dark side at night?¡±


    ¡°No, nothing like that.¡±


    ¡°You and Amy good?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he smiled at her name.


    ¡°Ok, then spill it.¡±


    ¡°I ignore a lot of what happens with you; the knife, disappearing wounds, and Vics dying from head trauma. But if we are to keep working together, you need to tell me the truth about what is going on. I can¡¯t continue in ignorance.¡±


    I glanced around, studying who sat near our table and could hear the conversation. The knife on my leg gave no indication of danger lurking nearby. I said with a sigh, ¡°I¡¯ve had the knife since my twelfth birthday. That¡¯s when Grandmother passed it on to me. My official title is The Catcher. The silver knife draws evil people to me. I kill them with it, or rather the knife kills them, I just point. At their death, I catch their souls and send them on to the Gatekeeper. He traps them in the Forest of Lost Souls. Does that sound like a sci-fi novel?¡±


    ¡°Is any of that true?¡± asked Leon.


    ¡°All of it. My life has been one long torment since receiving the thing. The knife against my skin warns me if one is nearby. Right now, it feels cool, so there is no danger. When hot, an evil soul is present. That is the only way I can have a semi-normal life.¡±


    ¡°I realized your instincts had something to do with the knife but not all of this.¡±


    ¡°Does it scare you?¡±


    ¡°No, not scared but mystified. Why you?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t know. It has been passed down through generations. I will be the last. When I die, the knife will be buried with me. Hopefully, that will stop this curse.¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Amy is a researcher for the Art Museum. I can ask her to examine it.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t give it to her. Too dangerous. What would happen if the knife attached to her instead of me? But we can take pictures. There are figures and words on each side of the blade. If she can decipher them?¡±


    ¡°Tonight, you can pull it out, and I¡¯ll take pictures with my cell phone.¡±


    ¡°What about Newbie?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll stop at the coffee shop and send him out with a complicated demand. That should take him a while.¡±


    We watched Daley rush into the busy coffee shop. Leon pulled out his phone and opened the picture app. Setting it up to take a video, he said, ¡°I¡¯m ready.


    The silver knife lay wrapped in a tissue on my palm. I learned to be careful, even in quiet times. I uncovered it, and he started recording. When he finished with one side of the blade, I turned it over, and he scanned the other side. From the corner of my eye, I saw Newbie returning with our coffee order. The knife slid into its sheath, and I closed the flap on my pants leg.


    ¡°Man, the line was long, and it took forever to get the order ready. He kept sticking in his thermometer and restarting the microwave,¡± Daley grumbled as he slid into the car. He handed us the coffee from the back seat along with the heated cinnamon rolls.


    I tried not to shake with laughter. We requested them to be microwaved to an exact temperature. My mouth full of cinnamon roll, I said, ¡°Hmm, perfect. Now that you know how we like it, you can get them for us every time.¡±


    Leon took a bite and almost choked at my comment. He took a quick sip of coffee to wash it down.


    ¡°Are we sitting here all night or go patrolling.?¡± Daley, not happy with his status as an errand-boy, grumbled.


    ¡°Up ahead, there have been reports of attacks, leaving one dead. Thought we would check out the alley, afterward, return to the station and wait for a call.¡±


    The closer we came to the alley, the warmer the knife glowed against my leg. I studied the dark space between the buildings. ¡°Something¡¯s not quite right. Stop here, and I¡¯ll check it out.¡±


    Leon turned the car off and said, ¡°I am coming with you. Newbie, stay in the car. Here, hold our coffees and rolls.¡±


    I was already entering the dark space. The knife was almost burning through my clothes.


    A tall, shadowy figure stepped away from the wall. As I stood still, three more figures came forward to circle me. I felt a non-menacing presence behind me. ¡°Leon, don¡¯t get involved. Step back.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not Leon,¡± a deep voice responded. ¡°Maybe, you should step away, too.¡±


    ¡°Whoever you are, you don¡¯t understand what is going on.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I have a good idea.¡±


    The knife appeared in my hand. I pointed to the nearest attacker as he slipped closer to me. My blade flashed silver through the darkness. I heard a thud as if a body fell. The knife flashed back to me.


    ¡°Nice,¡± was the stranger¡¯s comment. Silver sped from his hand and struck another attacker.


    I took out the next one, and he got the last.


    ¡°Ever heard of the Gatekeeper?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Only in my dreams. He is a ghostly specter guarding a forest.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s him. I¡¯m Beth. And you are?¡± I turned and discovered he was gone.


    Leon standing in the streetlight said, ¡°You talking to me?¡±


    ¡°No the other man who was here. At his curious expression, I said, ¡°Oh, never mind.¡±


    Sitting at my desk, preparing to fill out reports, I thought about the stranger. The vampire doll stared at me from my keyboard. Focused on the man from the alley, my fingers automatically removed the paper clips sticking out all over it.


    The Gatekeeper never mentioned other Catchers. I made the assumption of being the only one. I remembered the card Grandmother was insistent that I kept. Was he the reason? This was a new addition to my already complex life.


    Oh, well. This mystery was not getting the night reports finished. I set the doll aside and started typing.

 CHAPTER 8 SPECIAL ASSIGNMENT

    Captain Morris brought us in early for a special briefing. I picked up takeout for Leo and me at the diner. We sat in Morris¡¯s office and munched on our sandwiches while watching him shuffle papers. Daley, the Newbie tapped impatient fingers on a chair arm. The captain¡¯s hesitation was a bad omen. It meant we were being delegated to an assignment away from our usual duties, the orders coming from someone higher up.


    I passed on a job offer from a larger city and chose to work in the small town of Balfour. The downside was that politicians had more say in our duties.


    When Leon and Amy moved here, both were starting new jobs. Robert L Gansley a prestigious art aficionado hired Amy as a researcher for his art museum. His collection, located in the family mansion, was famous. Amy¡¯s examination of the museum¡¯s inventory uncovered some buried priceless items, and several frauds purchased by a previous ancestor. Mr. Gansley, delighted with his new employee, immediately gave her a raise. Leon relocated along with her and applied for the position of detective. Shorthanded on the police force, the city eagerly hired him. They both settled into their new positions without any difficulties.


    I asked him once, ¡°Why the night shift?¡±


    ¡°A lot of her research involves computer contacts and calls from around the world, most of which are at least seven to twelve hours ahead of us. This way we work on a compatible but quirky schedule.¡±


    The first time I met Amy, she wore cutoff jeans, a tee shirt, and flip-flops. Her hair was pinned up with a couple of clamps. The next time was for an official visit. At a party hosted by her boss, she looked like a fashion model. Blond hair, now freed, flowed in curls down her back. An expensive necklace and matching earrings glistened in the light. Greeting the guests with grace and ease, her smile and laughter flowed around the room.


    ¡°How¡¯d you ever catch her?¡± I whispered to Leon.


    ¡°Long story. One day I¡¯ll tell you.¡±


    Captain assigned us to go undercover for the event due to street rumors about a planned society robbery. Disguised as waitstaff, we mingled among the guests. At a, ¡°ahem,¡± I turned and gave a glass of sparkling champagne to a thirsty guest.


    Four men dressed as commandos with their faces hidden by masks burst through the doors. They pushed a bloodied guard before them.


    As the wounded man fell to the floor, the men¡¯s leader fired a gun at the ceiling. He yelled above the screams, ¡°Ladies, take off your jewelry. Men, I want your watches and wallets.¡±


    At his signal, a second man stepped forward with an open grocery bag. He shoved it at Amy who stripped off her necklace and earrings and dropped them in the bag.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    My silver knife alerted me concerning the leader, a Lost Soul. He caught my scent and turned to me. His eyes became red and protruding as he stared at me through the slits of his face mask. Knowing this would not end well. I nodded at Leon and sat the serving tray down. The knife slid into my hand. I pointed it at the man. With only a thin streak of silver visible, the weapon zoomed across the room and struck him with such force, that he flew backward. Though dead when he hit the ground, his hand jerked and fired off a round of bullets. Glass rained down from the overhead chandelier. People started screaming and shoved each other, trying to exit the room.


    The robbers stared at their leader lying dead on the floor. Leon taking advantage of the men¡¯s confusion slammed his tray full of drinks in the face of the thief next to him. When he lifted his gun hand to clear his eyes, Leon grabbed the exposed wrist and twisted his hand down with such force the bones cracked. The gun dropped with a thud to the floor. A third and fourth thief were subdued by Robert Gansley¡¯s personal security guards.


    In the confusion, people failed to notice how I killed the first man. Many thought he tripped backward over the dead guard and hit his head while falling. Only Mr. Gansley, her boss, noticed. Tall, dressed immaculately in a black tux, his brown eyes locked with mine. I experienced a strange jolt of recognition, but from where I could not remember. He began to walk toward me but stopped when a policeman tapped him on the arm.


    Captain quit fiddling with the folders and leaned back in his chair. He growled, ¡°Beth, pay attention, this assignment is important.¡±


    I sat up and focused on him. The last time he used that phrase; our mayor lost his pet dog. We had to do a door-to-door search through the night for his Foofoo. We found the animal behind a row of trashcans gnawing on a barbeque rib. Darn thing bit Leon when he picked it up. The mayor¡¯s wife was more concerned because her baby ate a discarded bone than Leon¡¯s bloody hand.


    ¡°This assignment is coming directly from the Chief.¡±


    Informed what the day officers had spent their time on, under his breath, Leon gave a ¡°meow.¡±


    Morris gave a half-grin and said, ¡°Not that. Day shift found the Chief¡¯s cat a couple of hours ago and arrested the man who took it. He wanted ten thousand in ransom. Idiot went to the pet store and asked what kind of food the Chief¡¯s cat ate.¡± He shook his head.


    ¡°How could they be sure it was him? Daley asked.


    ¡°By the scratches all over his hands. Marcia at the pet store noticed them and called it in. But, back to your assignment, it''s more complicated. The City Council is throwing a party at the Civic Pavilion for a contingent of Japanese dignitaries. They want you to secure the carnival next to it in case some of the visitors stray. There have been reports of muggings, pickpockets, and one disappearance. So, stay alert.¡±


    ¡°Do we tell the criminals and murderers to take a night off?¡± I asked.


    ¡°You were picked because your shift is at night, and the city will not have to pay overtime. When everything settles, and all visitors are snug in their beds, you can finish your usual duties.¡±


    ¡°Some chance of that. They will party until the wee hours, and we will spend our time making sure no one gets arrested,¡± Leon commented.


    Daley decided to join our conversation and gave his opinion, ¡°My understanding of Japanese culture is that the people are conservative and not likely to attend rowdy parties.¡±


    Morris cleared his throat and nodded, ¡°Well, yes, we can hope. Regardless, stay vigilant, and remember to be polite.¡±

 CHAPTER 9 CARNIVAL

    A crowd circled the speaker¡¯s platform at the Civic Pavillion. We could not hear what was said, but the people clapped and cheered. We sat in the car for a while and watched the flow of people entering the carnival and buying tickets. Leon used binoculars to study the party¡¯s status.


    ¡°The mayor just introduced the second Japanese dignitary so we have some time. See anything?¡± Leon turned to me.


    ¡°I recognized a couple of pickpockets going through the gate, and Jasper our two-times arrested burglar. No group of men wearing black hoodies and carrying Uzis down their pant legs. You notice anyone suspicious, Newbie?¡±


    He looked up from his cell phone. ¡°Nope, this whole assignment is a waste of time and resources. You spot the men dressed in black suits at the back of the stage? That¡¯s the Japanese security they brought with them.¡±


    Leon opened his car door and stood in the gravel parking lot. ¡°Well, regardless, Morris ordered us to work here so get out.¡±


    I slid out of the car and stretched. Daley, preoccupied with texting, continued without looking up.


    ¡°Something about the case?¡± I reached in and grabbed his phone. A girl¡¯s picture in scrimpy underwear appeared above his last text. I held it up for Leon to see.


    Daley leaped from the car and grabbed for it.


    Leon growled as he clicked the car door locks. ¡°Glad to know he¡¯s human, but can we get on with this?¡±


    I flipped the phone back to Daley and turned to face the bright lights and loud music from the carnival. The knife sent a fission of electricity down my leg. It caused my knee to jerk. This was a new sensation. Could it be the weapon was excited?


    ¡°You alright?¡± Leon asked.


    ¡°Yes, just taking in the surroundings.¡±


    Our feet crunched on the gravel as we approached the gate. To the visitors, we were just another group of people but to the Carnies, we were ¡®Cops¡¯. After buying a handful of tickets we entered the Midway. Two tough-appearing men walked toward us.


    Sent by the owner, one of them asked, ¡°We got problems?¡±


    ¡°Nope. We are here to babysit those Japanese dignitaries from across the street. They have their protection detail but may not understand all the customs.¡± Leon nodded toward a black limousine that pulled up in the parking lot.


    ¡°Advise the sticky-fingered group to stay clear. I recognize some of them. They may not be prepared for a Japanese response,¡± I said.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell the boss why you are here.¡±


    ¡°I still don¡¯t understand all these precautions,¡± Daley grumbled.


    We ignored him and walked toward a Japanese guard to flash our badges at him. He nodded in understanding but did not say anything. Leon and I stepped back and blended into the crowd. Not aware we walked away, Daley glanced around with a confused expression.


    We bought sodas and turned to watch him. A group of people surged forward, and he stumbled along with them.


    ¡°Clueless. A bunch of head knowledge, but no experience. Any other city, he would be walking the beat with a training partner. Wonder who he is related to.¡±


    Leon took a sip and nodded. ¡°Rumor says, it¡¯s the mayor.¡±


    ¡°Here comes trouble.¡± I let out a shrill whistle and called, ¡°Sadie, keep your hands to yourself!¡±


    A petite woman dressed in baggy pants and shirt stood close to one of the dignitaries. She jerked back and disappeared into the crowd.


    A Japanese guard made eye contact with me. He nodded in acknowledgment and whispered to the other guards. They created a ring of space between the dignitaries and the crowd.


    Daley appeared at my side. He asked, ¡°Where¡¯d you go?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been here all along. You disappeared,¡± I replied.


    I bought a chili dog and started munching. Wandering off to the left, I mingled with the crowd while eating and sipping my drink. Leon copied my actions and veered to the right. Daley, unaware we separated, stopped to say something and discovered he was alone. He turned in a circle searching for us. I wanted to advise him, use your instincts, but then relaxed as he shrugged, bought a stick of cotton candy, and strolled down the midway.


    Wandering around the booths, I absorbed the smells and sounds. They brought back memories of when the carnival visited our small town. Grandmother was not happy when I went with my school class. She prayed the whole time until I returned home. Now, understanding the dangers, I watched two school girls wander toward the dark area behind the caravans. A man standing in a deep shadow observed their progress.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Taking out my cell phone, I snapped a picture of him as he started to follow them. I cleared my throat and revealed the badge clipped to my belt. He stepped toward me with something clenched in his fist.


    ¡°Do you want to do this? Just walk away.¡±


    He nodded and slipped into the shadows.


    I approached the girls and said, ¡°I am the police. You are not allowed back here.¡±


    Their face glowed white with fear in the pale light.


    One was brave enough to ask, ¡°Are you going to arrest us?¡±


    ¡°Not this time, I¡¯m letting you off with a warning. Go back to your group.¡±


    ¡°Teacher will be mad.¡±


    ¡°As I said, this is a warning. She will be notified only if you do it again. And I will be watching.¡±


    The girls scurried back to a frustrated woman whose face brightened when she saw them. After hugging them, she said, ¡°You know the rules, no wandering off. Let¡¯s join the rest.¡±


    Leon approached from the side. We had this inner sense when the other was nearby. It was important, especially during police raids. ¡°What happened?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Only a couple of stray kids and a man watching them. I got his picture. We can run it through our computer later.¡±


    ¡°By then, he¡¯ll be gone.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the plan. Less paperwork. We can notify the city at the carnival¡¯s next stop. They can deal with him.¡±


    Leon¡¯s sudden stillness caught my attention.


    A stretch limousine pulled up at the entrance. The side door swung open. A tall man, dressed as a clown and wearing a red fuzzy wig, climbed out. Two women followed; both wore punk clown outfits with faces painted in clown smiles. Their short red and yellow striped skirts stuck out stiffly in circles around them. From the hems dangled long strands of glass beads. Buckles on each shoulder and more across their chests gleamed in the light. Each wore long curly red wigs to match the clown. They squealed and jumped up and down pointing at the Ferris wheel.


    Behind them, another clown stepped from the limo. He was shorter, fatter, and wore a green wig. Two more women exited. They were dressed as the other females; except they matched their escort with green skirts and wigs. Joining the other two women, they clutched hands and ran through the entrance side by side, leaving the clowns to pay for their tickets.


    ¡°Not good vibes about them. Did you see the driver?¡± Leon asked as the limousine drove off, circled the parking lot, and parked in the shadows with its motor running.


    ¡°The windows were too dark, but my knife doesn¡¯t indicate a problem, could be just a regular shake-down. I¡¯ll search for Baley and notify the Japanese guards.¡±


    Leon moved left and strolled behind the booths. I drifted along, finishing my hot dog and sipping the soda. We both understood, that if the clowns were here to rob the carnival, they could spot us as cops. When the tall one stopped and glanced around, I faded into a group of people. Finding Baley at a booth, I tugged him out of sight.


    ¡°Something¡¯s going down. See those clowns and the women with them? They are not here to enjoy the carnival, probably to rob it.¡±


    Baley stepped forward to search the crowd.


    I pulled him back. ¡°Stay out of sight. The clowns are studying the carnival¡¯s security. This is your lucky night. You¡¯ll get to pull out your gun and arrest somebody.¡±


    A Japanese guard glanced up. Something must have caught his attention. I pretended to wave at a friend while slanting my hand toward a clown. He talked through his earpiece and alerted the others.


    The clown girls squealed and pointed toward a shooting booth. The dignitaries were busy aiming at dancing puppets with pop guns. The four women locked arms and tried to break through the guards. When that did not work, they snapped their skirts loose to reveal black thongs underneath. Hoping the distraction worked, the women locked arms again and shoved forward.


    Their brazen movements set off an alarm in my mind. I searched for the two men who accompanied them. The male clowns slipped behind the booths and walked toward what I assumed was the manager¡¯s caravan. Leon followed, moving from tree to tree for cover.


    Baley tried to step out, but I stiff-armed him back and motioned to get behind me. I whispered, ¡°These clowns are dangerous, they have guns in their belts.¡±


    The men stopped to screw silencers on their guns. At the tall one¡¯s nod; the short clown kicked the door open. They burst in and yelled, ¡°Give us the money!¡±


    Leon stepped up on a chair and peered in a window. I ran to the caravan and flattened myself against its side.


    Baley ran with me but at the last moment tripped and fell to his knees. He landed with a loud, ¡°Humph.¡±


    ¡°Someone is out there,¡± the fat clown muttered.


    ¡°You keep watch on the manager. Make sure he doesn¡¯t hold anything back. I¡¯ll check it out.¡± He stepped out and aimed his gun. The gun¡¯s red dot hit Baley on the forehead as he stumbled up.


    Do not look at me, I mentally urged him. Of course, that is what he did.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re not alone.¡± The painted smile widened into an evil grin.


    I innately disliked clowns but never understood why until now. Not sure if the knife would work on a normal villain, I reached for it. The blade slipped into my fist. With it concealed, I stepped forward with my hands raised.


    The red dot did not waver from Baley¡¯s forehead.


    As I threw the knife, the clown detected my movement. He turned to point his gun at me. My silver knife struck the clown¡¯s forehead before he could fire. Meanwhile, Leon leaped from the chair and tackled Baley. They rolled together across the ground as a bullet whizzed past them. The clown, propelled by my knife, fell backward into the caravan and landed with a thump. His head bounced like a ball on the floor.


    The other clown discovering his partner was dead, tripped over him as he tried to escape. The carnival¡¯s security men appeared and caught the man. Leon managed to untangle from Baley and took charge. He handcuffed the man and did a thorough search of his clothing. He pulled out a gun hidden in the man¡¯s waistband and a knife from the back collar of his shirt. ¡°Quite a collection.¡±


    I turned to Baley and said, ¡°Call for backup. I¡¯ll check on the Japanese envoy. Their guards hopefully already detained the clown women.¡±


    Internal affairs wanted to confiscate my knife, but I would not give it up. I decided not to reveal where the silver blade normally hid and kept it in my pocket. With the knife in my open hand, I held it out and said, ¡°It¡¯s a family heirloom and doesn¡¯t leave my possession. You can look at it, take pictures, but do not touch.¡±


    Baley came up afterward and asked, ¡°Can I see it?¡±


    Again, I pulled the knife from my pocket and opened my hand. For some reason, the silver was warm. Not sure what that meant, I closed my fist and shook my head.


    It took the rest of our shift to fill out pages of reports.


    The next morning, while the morning shift arrived, Captain Morris and the Chief of Police came by still dressed in their formal uniforms. Both appeared tired but relaxed.


    After shaking our hands, the chief volunteered, ¡°There will be a special commendation for your actions. I was advised that the Japanese delegation appreciated how the situation was handled.¡± He turned to me and said, ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear any more about your knife. It is an unauthorized weapon, so be sure it doesn¡¯t turn up in any more arrests.¡±