Something Instinctual

By Elaine Waldron

Disheartened from a failed marriage and recent divorce, and having a young son to raise, Vanessa Gale leaves California and returns to Texas City, Texas, her hometown, to reside with her parents until she can get their lives back together again. She is thrilled when she lands a job at the newly-built Jack’s Bait and Tackle, one of the first of two new businesses to arise on the dike since Hurricane Ike wiped out the old ones. The second business is Lonnie’s Bar and Grill. Its proprietor, Lonnie Hyde, is Jack Logan’s best friend.
Just as Vanessa begins to enjoy her new life – finding she is very attracted to Jack Logan -- bodies of young women begin popping up near and around the vicinity of the dike. Vanessa’s father, Detective Joseph Blair, is convinced that Jack Logan – whose mother was murdered by someone with the same MO when he was a small boy – is the serial killer, and makes life hell for Jack and his friend Lonnie.
Something Instinctual is a story of murder, love, and the ability to trust even when the odds are stacked against it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elaine Waldron
• Release date: Feb 1, 2012
• ISBN: 9781465828453

Elaine Waldron

Elaine Waldron began her career as a novelist with Publish America, publishing her first two books with them. Aside from her novels, she has had numerous short stories published in various magazines and anthologies, such as Amazing Journeys and Trail of Indiscretion, winning best story based on cover art for issue #4. She was a newspaper journalist earlier on in her career, but shortly after leaving the newspaper, she began selling her short stories.Her favorite authors are: L.J. Smith, Stephen King, Stephanie Meyer, Jack Engelhard, and John W. Cassell. She enjoys Shakespeare and her favorite poet is Rainer Maria Rilke, and she mostly reads and listens to his works in German.She is an advocate for preserving our planet, believes in God, and recycles. Loves animals and has two cats.

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Something Instinctual

Elaine Waldron

Copyright © 2012 by Sandra Elaine Waldron

Smashwords Edition

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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locals is entirely coincidental.

Prologue

He’d been playing with his neighborhood friends, got hungry and ran in for cookies, grabbed a handful and was just about to run back outside when he heard his mother crying and arguing with someone upstairs. She sounded really scared.

Mommy? he called out in his small voice, as he was only four; would be five in less than a month.

She didn’t answer; just kept talking kind of excited and fast to whomever it was that was in her bedroom. She suddenly screamed out and there was scuffling. The door opened and banged against the wall and there was bumping as they headed down the stairs.

Something instinctual told him to hide. There was a closet under the staircase where he often played. They were coming fast. So he ducked inside and quietly pulled the door shut, leaving it open just a tiny crack, enough so he could see out. A man wearing a dark brown skier’s mask and dark sunglasses had his mother by her long brown hair. It struck the boy as odd, as it was hot. Why was he wearing a skier’s mask? Her hands were up, frantically trying to pull his away, as she desperately fought to free herself, but the man was too strong.

Please! she pleaded. Let me go! Please!

The man swung around, facing the staircase. Because of the skier’s mask and what appeared to the boy as the kind of gloves doctors and nurses wore, he couldn’t tell at all who his mother’s assailant was. No skin showed. But why would anyone want to hurt his mother?

Shut the fuck up! the man icily snapped in a vaguely familiar voice and slapped her hard. So hard she fell with a loud thump against the door the boy was behind.

He jumped back, terrified, wishing his daddy were still around, but the last time the boy had seen him, he had been wearing a uniform. His mother cried a lot that day, but he had promised to come back.

Only he never did.

Instead, one day two men in uniforms came to the door and told her that his father had been killed in a training mission someplace he’d never heard of. She had cried again, but this time a whole lot more. She’d never been the same since. Just went to work most days for a big store called Sears and picked him up from daycare of an evening when she got off.

There was a man who had been a good friend to his mother after the boy’s father had been killed. And from what the boy understood, the man had been dating his Aunt Margaret when his mother met him. But the man wanted more than friendship.

The boy had heard his mother say she didn’t want to betray her sister like that and refused to see him anymore, even broke off their friendship. The man had been furious. Said she’d regret it and had left in a fury. That had been days ago.

The boy couldn’t see much of what was going on, as his mother was against the door, but he could hear – could hear her begging and crying and pleading with the awful man to let her go. Said she had a little boy that needed her. His father was dead.

The man said he knew that and he didn’t care.

Through the crack, the boy noticed something white sticking out of the top of the man’s shirt pocket – a piece of paper with handwriting on it. And though something about it was familiar too, he couldn’t fully think what it was.

None of his mother’s begging seemed to matter to the man. There were several loud bumps and she cried out each time. And then she suddenly screamed pitifully. No!

There was more struggling and one last loud thump, as she fell back against the door, hard. Then she got really quiet. Still, the boy sat there, unmoving, waiting while the heavy footsteps strode down the hall and the front door opened and slammed.

Mommy? he cried out. Mommy?

Absolute, frozen silence.

After a bit, he pushed against the door, but something heavy blocked it –

His mother.

Tears streamed down his little face. Something was very wrong. With his shoulder, he pushed on the door as hard as he could and finally there was a thump and the door gave way. When he opened the door his mother’s dead body stared up at him with wide vacant eyes.

He stood there for several seconds in complete shock, not breathing. Then he noticed a different ring on the finger where her wedding ring had been – A plastic silver ring like the kind you buy for a quarter out of a vending machine, ornamented with a fake white pearl. The best he could remember, she had been wearing her wedding ring, even though his father was dead. He realized then that her wedding ring had been placed on a small table in the hall. Oddly, this was one of the things that stuck in his memory.

When he finally took a breath, his keening screams could be heard throughout the neighborhood, bringing the police on the scene in minutes.

A woman police officer took him to the station. Shortly after, his Aunt Margaret, his mother’s older and only sibling, picked him up and took him home to her apartment in Houston. He lived with her until he was old enough to be on his own.

Over the years, as the boy grew into adulthood, he had tried to recall the face of the man who had befriended his mother and then turned on her, wondering if he was, somehow, responsible for his mother’s death. Only, every time he began to have a vague glimpse in his conscious mind, it would disappear, seeming to remain elusive forever. Left in its place, would be an excruciating headache.

Chapter One

(Present Day)

Some young women might have found getting a minimum wage job at a newly opened bait camp depressing, but not Vanessa Gale. She was thrilled when Jack Logan, the owner and manager of the establishment, called her early Saturday morning and said she had the job. Soon as she hung up, she grabbed her four-year-old son, Billy, and gave him an enthusiastic hug. I got the job, Billy! I got the job!

The boy smiled brightly and though he didn’t fully fathom the significance of the moment, he was happy that Mommy was happy.

"Now, with Grandma and Grandpa letting us stay here, and with my wages, we might actually make it without any further financial help.

The boy simply grinned, observing his mother dance around the room. Then it came to him. Will I have to stay with Grandma and Grandpa while you work?

She frowned apologetically. I’m afraid so, sweetheart. You don’t mind, do you? I know you love them.

Though he appeared a little sad, he replied, Okay. But I’ll miss you, Mommy.

And I’ll miss you! But it’s mostly during the day. Some weekends I might work as late as nine, from what Mr. Logan said. She smiled encouragingly, Still, I’ll be with you a lot in the evenings. You’re in preschool most mornings.

Will you work everyday?

No, honey. Guess I made it sound that way. He said that I could have a day off during the week and I could take turns with taking a Saturday or Sunday off when I wanted. She squat down to his eyelevel. This is for the best. And maybe Grandma or Grandpa can bring you by to see me sometimes

His face brightened. Okay.

Just then, the matronly Betty Blair walked in grinning. Couldn’t help but hear from upstairs. You got the job! Congratulations, honey! She gave her daughter a loving hug. Your father will be happy for you too. He knows how much you hate having to depend on us so much."

Vanessa winced slightly, Only, not sure it will be enough for us to move out for a while.

Betty released her. Now don’t you go worrying about that. Your father makes a good living as a detective on the police force here. We have plenty in our savings. Besides, she said, smiling down at her only grandchild, we love having you and Billy around. Helps keep us young.

Mom, I love you! She kissed her mother’s cheek and pulled away. Gee! Now I need to go pick something out to wear for my first day. He wants me to start tomorrow morning, even though it is Sunday, for training. Says it is his busiest day since he opened up a few months ago. Hope that’s okay?

Of course! Billy will be just fine with us. You just do what you have to do, hon. Who knows, maybe one of these days you can finish your schooling. I know you don’t intend to work for a bait camp forever. But hey…It’s a start.

I’d love to continue with my education. Only I don’t know when I’ll ever have time, Mom.

One thing at a time. I’m sure we can work something out. A lot of folks do it online these days.

Yeah. But I don’t even own a decent computer right now. That old one upstairs takes forever to download anything.

I’ll talk with your dad. See if we can work something out. She poured herself a cup of coffee and turned to her daughter. It’s not that we can’t afford a new computer…even a couple. It’s just that I’m not so much into computers, as you know. And your father just wants to relax and watch television when he gets home.

Thank you, Mama. She stood but spoke to her son. How about you coming up and keeping me company while I decide what to wear for work in the morning.

Okay, Mommy.

Vanessa, Betty said, I know you’re excited. But it is just a bait camp. Jeans and a blouse or even a T-shirt will do.

I know. I still want to make a good impression. She stopped for a moment, looking a bit embarrassed.

Her mother tilted her head questioningly. What, Vanessa? I’ve seen that look before. There’s more.

"You should see him, Mama. He’s…He’s…Well, he is really hot!"

Oh! Is he now? she smiled; her daughter definitely had her interest.

Vanessa shook her head yes. I think I can easily get over you-know-who with little problem, she said, not wanting to say her ex’s name in front of her son, being around him.

Well! Betty Blair leaned against the counter. Maybe this could lead to something interesting, if you play your cards right. It was obvious that she wanted nothing more than for her daughter’s and grandson’s happiness. They had gone through so much at the harsh and controlling hands of Robert Gale.

We’ll see. I’ll try not to get my hopes up too much.

Just take it one thing at a time, dear. One day at a time. If anything’s meant to be, it will happen.

Maybe it will. She looked down at her son, who was all ears but not saying a word. Come on. Let’s go see what I have suitable for working in a bait camp.

Okay, Mommy.

I should have supper ready by the time you’re done," Betty said as her daughter and grandson headed up the staircase.

Thanks, Mom!

Betty went on into the den where Joseph was watching television. He grunted but didn’t say anything. Betty sighed heavily. You’re not going to say anything negative about her new job, are you? If you are, you can forget about me making you that pot of chili tomorrow.

Say what? he said, snapping his head around.

That got your attention.

But a bait camp? Come on, Betty. I know fishing itself is an innocent enough sport. Only, things are kind of tense right now. You’re aware that just last week a young woman in her twenties popped up not only dead…but her throat slashed. Right now we haven’t a clue who did it. And we just found another one. What’s more, both murders happened not too far from the dike.

Another one! That’s awful!

An understatement. So, you just tell her to be damn careful.

I will, but Joseph, you and I both know jobs are scarce right now. She feels very lucky to get anything at all. Has been so down about everything. I do not want you to burst her bubble now!

All right, he blew out air. I promise not to say anything negative.

Thank you! Was that so hard?

He looked at her askance. No.

She laid a hand on his shoulder. I’ll run to the store later then and get the things I need to make your chili. She took back her hand and went to walk away.

He briskly replied, Thank you!

She stopped in her tracks and screwed up her mouth. He was basically a good man but he could be so darn difficult. Sometimes, she just wanted to hit him, but she just continued on into the kitchen. Getting in an argument with him would only spoil their daughter’s good mood.

Jack Logan locked up the front door to his bait camp a little after eleven p.m. He’d stayed late to work on his books, getting them in order for Richard Talbot, his and Lonnie’s accountant. Richard was going to go over them the next day.

Country Western music sifted from the also recently built bar-and-grill across the road on the south side of the dike. Both establishments had been built not long after vendors licenses were legalized again for the dike after Hurricane Ike.

After Ike, the dike had been pretty much destroyed, and it had been said for a while that it wouldn’t be rebuilt, in spite of the protests from the locals who had grown up around and loved the Texas City Dike. The people had won though, which Jack was grateful. He loved fishing, and though he had a college education with a Master’s in history – had taught school for a couple of years in Houston where he’d lived since his mother died, until building the bait camp – his love of fishing and desire to have his own bait camp triumphed.

He slipped his keys in his pants pocket and headed across the street. Lonnie Hyde, who was five years his junior, had a similar story. He had worked as a bank teller for a couple of years out of college but decided he wanted his own bar, and had built his business the same time as Jack. Now, other establishments were going up along the dike. It wouldn’t be long and they would be seeing some competition, but they weren’t worried. Before Ike, businesses had not only survived but had thrived on the dike for years.

As Jack walked in, everyone had their eyes on the flat screen that was on the wall behind the bar. They were absorbed in the news. The police had found the body of another young woman who had been brutally murdered, raped and throat sliced open and her body left in a dumpster in an alley close to 6th Street and Palmer Highway.

Horrific! Such a waste! Lonnie said, turning and seeing Jack.

Another one? Jack questioned, straddling a stool.

A white-haired man, Richard Talbot, who looked young for his hair but insisted he was fifty-five, had been watching the news from where he sat next to Jack. He glanced up at Jack. Yep! Second one within a week! he shook his head and took a sip of his draft beer.

Those poor, poor girls, Lonnie considered. Both were in their twenties. Gawd! I hope they get the monster that’s doing this soon.

Jack nodded, agreeing.

Lonnie wiped his hands on a white towel; tossed it aside and asked Jack if he wanted his usual, which was a draft beer.

Jack replied yes, turned to Richard and said he had his books ready for him to go over. Richard said he’d stop by some time Monday morning, but not to expect him real early.

Just then, an attractive woman in her late twenties walked up to Jack’s left side, taking hold of his arm. Hey, handsome. How’s it going tonight?

It was Rebecca, one of Lonnie’s two waitresses. Hey, yourself, he said with a friendly smile but wincing slightly when he turned and looked back at the television, gently but deliberately pulling his arm free in the process.

She seemed to ignore his gesture and leaned across the bar and told Lonnie she needed a couple of drafts for a table in the back, and then focused back on Jack, who definitely noticed but didn’t say anything. She was attractive, but as most women – especially women he knew were attracted to him and were in the least bit forward – she made him nervous. What made it worse, he wasn’t sure why. Just knew it made him uncomfortable.

How’s business going? she probed, still vying for his attention.

Briefly glancing her way, he replied, Good. Real good. Hired a girl to help me out. Starts in the morning.

Rebecca frowned, slightly puzzled. On a Sunday?

I figured it was the best time for her to learn. My busiest day, so far.

Oh! I would think you’d want her on a slower day? For learning, that is.

Not that there’s much pressure working in a bait camp, but if she handles it well on a busy day for the first time, then I’ll know I chose to hire the right girl.

Oh! Guess that makes sense.

Perfect sense.

Lonnie walked up and handed her a tray with two draft beers.

Jack was glad.

She winked flirtatiously and walked away with the tray.

Jack’s jaw twitched.

With an eyebrow raised and looking sideways at Jack, Richard stood and laid a twenty on the bar. Keep the change, Lonnie.

Hey! Thanks! You have a good one, Richard.

You too. With a cordial nod to Jack, he said, See you Monday morning. He walked out.

Rebecca was back and wasted not a second in helping herself to the now empty stool by Jack.

Lonnie glanced over. There are tables to wipe in the back, Rebecca. His eyes darted questioningly to Jack.

Jack ever so vaguely gave a nod of thanks.

All right! she jumped up, grabbed the steaming white cloth Lonnie held out to her and strode off.

Jack stood and reached in his back pocket for his wallet. Give me a bottle to go. Don’t care what brand as long as it is alcohol.

Got ya! Lonnie quickly got his beer for him and handed it over.

Jack paid for it and left, looked both ways, though there wasn’t much traffic out this time of night, and crossed to the other side, got in his black Dodge Ram and headed for his small apartment on 11th. Avenue.

Finishing up for the night, Lonnie eyed Rebecca who was hanging up her short apron with money pockets. Maybe you consider it none of my business, Rebecca. But I think you should leave Jack Logan alone.

You’re right, she said, snapping her head around. You may be my boss here, but who I’m interested in is none of your business.

"It sort of is, if it annoys a customer. Can’t you see? Jack’s not interested!"

Phooey! He’s just shy.

He’s thirty years old, Rebecca. He’s not shy. I haven’t known him real long. Met him when we were applying for our vendors licenses. We’ve been kind of friends ever since. However, I do know he’s a loner. I’ve seen him with few women. And the few that I have seen him with were one-timers. Never saw him with the same woman twice.

"Humph! That’s because he wasn’t with the right woman."

He let out a little laugh. And you believe you are?

Hey! I have guys all over the place eager to take me out. You know it.

Any of them serious?

Hell no! You know me. Like to explore my options.

Then why in the world do you want him?

She grinned cat-like. Because I like challenges. And Jack Logan is a challenge.

Lonnie shook his head. Okay. But you be careful. He may not be as much fun as you think.

She opened the door, ready to walk out. Brow furrowed, she stared at Lonnie. What do you mean by that?

Nothing really. Just that he has shown no interest in you whatsoever, and I get the feeling he’s just been polite up ‘til now. If you push it though, he might not be so nice.

Yeah…You kidding? He doesn’t look so tough to me. I tell you he’s just shy. Once I get my claws into him, it will be different, you’ll see.

Lonnie rolled his eyes and focused back to the register where he was counting his money. Whatever, Rebecca. Can’t say I didn’t warn you.

Duly noted, she replied and walked out, slamming the door behind.

He rushed over and locked it, and couldn’t help shaking his head when Rebecca peeled out in her gray Ford Focus. It was late. He was tired and ready to go home where he lived with his mother on Bay Street, which was actually walking distance, only a couple of blocks once one left the dike.

Front secure, he exited out the back door onto the short pier and to his right down the plank steps and onto the graveled turf. His Toyota truck sat there waiting for him, but he peered up at the starlit sky, just a few low-lying clouds and it was plenty warm out, actually pleasant, a relief from the days pressing heat. He decided to walk home, something he often did, much to his mother’s frustration. She didn’t like him walking home alone at night. Just because he was young, strong and healthy didn’t mean someone wouldn’t come alone and try to rob him or something. He assured her that he never took his money with him when walking home, left everything in the safe until daytime.

So, he set out walking home, enjoying the sounds of slapping waves against the big red rocks piled on each side of the dike, the seagulls calling overhead, and the warm damp air moistening his nostrils. The one thing he loved more than anything about the Texas Gulf Coast was the nights with its warm, damp breezes. There was a slight incline just as the dike road ended at Bay Street. He continued walking up the incline until it leveled out and he came to the concrete seawall, where it was divided by the road; hopped up and kept to his left, continuing on the seawall in the direction of his mother’s house. He was home in less than five minutes.

Vanessa was up early, anxious to get to her new job on time. She bounced down the stairs and was surprised to see her mother dressed for the day already. You’re up this early? she inquired, glancing at the digital clock on the microwave. It’s only six!"

I get up this early a lot, Vanessa. Gives me a few minutes to drink my coffee and wake up this foggy brain of mine before I have to cook you father’s breakfast and send him off to work.

Oh! Had no idea.

That’s because when you were in high school before you got married, your father worked the swing shift most the time. You were old enough to get yourself off to school, so I was able to sleep in late then.

Guess I’ve forgotten. She poured herself coffee and realized her hands were shaking.

Her mother noticed. Vanessa, it’s going to be all right. You’ll do fine at your new job.

Gawd! I hope so. I should have listened to you and Dad…gone on and finished school and gotten a decent job before getting married.

Well, you didn’t. What’s more, you can’t unscramble eggs, honey. What is past is past. Let’s leave it there and move on.

With wistful acceptance, she sat down to the table.

What would you like for breakfast, Vanessa? I can fry you some eggs and bacon, if you want?

No. Stomach’s a little queasy. Better stick to cereal. Cornflakes at that.

Betty smiled with understanding. Okay. Cornflakes it is. She grabbed a bowl out of the cabinet, filled it with cereal and placed it on the table in front