Don't Touch

By Elise VanCise

Dr Ryan Reign has unlocked a gift she calls a curse. Detective Jackson Prince and his partner need her help to stop a serial killer before he murders again.

One problem Dr. Reign can't touch or be touched. She's become a recluse never leaving her home for fear of what she might'see'. Jackson knows he has to help her accept her gift or there will be more deaths.

It takes a woman's touch to catch a killer.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elise VanCise
• Release date: Mar 24, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301802944

Elise VanCise

Elise VanCise, award winning author has been published in both print and digital media. Elise is a Florida Cracker, with a love for adventure and historic places. NaNoWriMo Municipal Liaison for Lake County, Florida, Founder of Lake Writers of Lake County, Florida.

Book preview

Don’t Touch

Elise VanCise

ISBN: 9781301802944

Don’t Touch

Copyright 2012 Smashwords Edition by EliseVanCise

All rights reserved except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or part in any form is forbidden without written permission of the author. PO Box 974, Altoona, FL 32702

Chapter 1

The holiday season had arrived in Florida and the weather finally decided to act like winter. Ryan pulled the sweater a litter tighter as the wind picked up. Being a native to the Sunshine State it was cold to her. She spotted Susan Denton smoking with her short sleeve scrubs barely chilled. Yankee cow. Hey Susan, you’re freezing me to death. The least you could do is pretend to be cold.

They shared a laugh then Ryan asked, Need a ride home?

The other woman put out the offending cigarette. Your blood’s too thin Cracker. I’ll take that offer, my car is down again.

As they hopped in the car Susan called her husband and let him know she had a ride. Dropping her phone in her pocket He says thank you for letting him stay in his warm bed. You ready for Christmas? I’ve still got tons of stuff to get for the kids.

Ryan smiled feeling kind of grateful she didn’t have that problem yet. You spoil them too much. I only have my sister left; she’s one of those that have everything. I have no idea what to get her.

After a moment they both say. Gift card.

The women laughed as Ryan turned the corner only to find an oversized pickup truck sliding into her lane. The women didn’t even have time to scream before the collision echoed into the night. Blinding light metal scraped against metal, Ryan’s car being drug over the asphalt.

When the vehicles finally slid to a stop Ryan picked her head up gingerly. Everything was blurred, pain pounded in her head. All the sounds, people were shouting, something creaked, were as if they were inside a tin can. Susan was leaning against the passenger window, unmoving. Susan?

Ryan felt the cold air rush in as someone opened her car door. She tried to turn to see who but the throbbing in her head accelerated and the world just faded away.

Ryan opened her eyes when she felt the bed move as her sister sat on the edge. Ryan? Hey sis, can you say something?

Ryan glared at her annoyed. Something. What happened? Then she remembered the staff party at the Lake County Coroner’s office was in full swing. Dr. Ryan Reign took a sip of punch her assistant had brought her and grimaced.

Naturally some wisenheimer had spiked the once delicious sherbet punch. Dumping it in the unsuspecting potted palm next to her Ryan decided it was time to go home. Especially before her college Dr. Barney Flak decided to do a striptease again this year.

Barney was the one who noticed her pull on the light sweater and grab her purse. Hey! Ryan you can’t leave yet, Doris is setting up the Karaoke.

Ryan smiled at the pathologist who reminded her of Andy Sipowicz from NYPD Blue, only not so grumpy. Thanks Barn, but I’m pulling a double tomorrow. Sing some Elvis for me okay.

Curling his lip Barney struck a King like pose. You got it little lady. Thank you, thank you very much!

As Ryan walked out as he called. Ladies and gentlemen Dr. Reign has left the building!

Susan, she was giving Susan a ride home from the office party. Then the bright lights, the scrapping of metal, being tossed around like a rag doll. With the memory came the blinding headache. Slowly she brought her hand to her head and groaned as her sister called for the nurse.

Dang all Ryan you had us scared to death! You have no idea how bad it could have been. Thank God you were wearing a seat belt. Susan’s going to be alright too. She had a broken rib and collar bone and a nasty whiplash. Where is that nurse?

Ryan just let her babble. It must have been bad for Amber to run off at the mouth. Her younger sibling was chatty but never just a motor mouth. The nurse finally arrived and put a dose of pain meds into the IV. She quickly checked Ryan’s vitals.

Ryan closed her eyes while waiting for the meds to do their work when she had a glimpse in her mind of the nurse with a blue stick. How far along?

The nurse paused in her task looked at Ryan with a shocked expression. What did you ask?

Sorry to pry, I asked how far along you are.

The nurse looked from Ryan, to her sister, and then quickly gathered her things. I just found out this morning that I am pregnant. How did you know?

Ryan couldn’t answer her. She couldn’t have known. The woman didn’t even look pregnant. You have the glow. You know.

The nurse gave a nervous nod and left her to rest. Ryan didn’t buy that answer either. Maybe she heard the nurse mention it when she was out. The nurse may have been showing the positive to another nurse and Ryan glimpsed it in a brief moment of consciousness. The subconscious is a mystery. Who knows what you pick up when you’re knocked out.

Finally, the day came when she got to go home. Amber became a total mother hen fussing over her big sister. Be careful going up those steps.

Ryan nodded as she trounced up the porch steps to the front door. When she grabbed the knob to unlock, she caught the scent of her neighbor’s cherry cigars. She turned thinking he was close by. The only person there was Amber. You alright?

Looking across the street Ryan found the neighbor mowing his lawn puffing a cigar. The smell must have drifted on the breeze. Yeah, Amber, I’m fine.

It took hours for Ryan to get rid of her sister. Amber, go home I’m fine. I’m not an invalid. I can cook dinner when I’m ready for it.

Amber relented and listed every phone number she could possibly think of for an emergency as she relented to leave her sister to her own devices. Call me immediately if you need anything! I mean anything, Ryan.

Closing the door behind her sister she felt as if she was finally able to relax. Ryan turned on the CD player and Johnny Cash started to filter through the room. A quick fix meal in the microwave and a good book were next on the list.

She sat on the couch engrossed in the latest thriller novel. Mistakenly she grabbed Amber’s coffee cup from earlier.

Don’t overdo it, Ryan. Take it easy for a couple of days. Her sister scolded as she had earlier. Ryan spit the hideously cold brew back in the cup and stood up to give Amber the what-for. Sister or not she had some nerve just barging back in.

There was no one but Johnny headed to the gallows with twenty-five minutes to go. Didn’t she hear Amber’s voice? Looking out the front window, there was no car in the drive and a couple of teenage girls chattered and giggled as they walked by.

Must have been them. She said to herself.

Three weeks went by and she couldn’t take another day stuck at home. It was her first day back to work.

Thank God. She thought, as she pulled into the parking lot. Maybe now things could get back to normal if there really was such a thing as normal.

Barney met her at the door. Welcome back beautiful!

Ryan smiled and skillfully evaded the hug. Thanks, it’s good to be back. She walked into her office with expectations of a ton of paperwork. Instead, she was greeted with a nice surprise. The baskets were empty. She wanted to do a happy dance.

Kessler the facility director popped his head in the door. Thought it best you have a fresh start. You really cleared to come back so soon?

Ryan flopped into her chair. I’d kiss you but we don’t need anymore gossip around here. I’m good Dr. Kessler, ready to get back in the groove. I swear not to sue you if I stub my toe.

He nodded and tossed a folder on her desk. I’ll hold you to that. Besides, without you around we didn’t have anything to gossip about. Start slow, do this one autopsy, help out in the lab. Then go home early.

She promised as she picked up the file. Ryan knew better than to argue with Kessler. When he got mad his Nazi ancestry came to the surface.

After a glance through the case file, she thought this one should be a snap. Female, Caucasian, multiple stab wounds. There were photos of the crime scene; a big kitchen knife lay beside the victim. Not a lot of blood though. Could have been killed somewhere else. Then brought back home? Weird.

With a final sip of her tea Ryan headed for the autopsy room. Hopefully since Kessler was the one who handed her the case the body would be halfway prepped.

Sure enough, someone was there, processing trace samples on the body. The little brunette smiled. She was new. You don’t just smile over a possible murder victim. Dr. Reign, I’m Lydia the new tech.

Ryan nodded then went to the girl on the table. That’s who deserved her attention at the moment. She was a pretty girl. Not tiny but not overweight, just built like a real woman, with curves.

The knife wounds looked as if they may match the weapon in the photos. They were fairly deep. It was odd though the seven wounds looked like they almost formed a circle. She wondered if this was done on purpose or just a random effect.

Everything else was run of the mill until she checked the eyes. The cornea of the left eye was missing. An exam of the right she found it was intact. Make a notation to check her past medical records for a keratectomy.

It was odd to come across someone so young with such a procedure. The girl had fought back there were cuts and broken nails from trying to block the blade, defensive wounds, all over her hands and arms. Lydia, help me get her undressed.

The tech came over and they tugged the jeans off. Ryan always felt like she was playing dress up with an oversized doll. It would have been easier to just cut the clothing off but it might compromise possible evidence. So they undressed the bodies the old fashioned way.

Ryan caught her glove on the edge of the table tearing it from her right palm. Damn. Seeing the tech cast a worried glance she added. I’m alright, ripped my glove.

Lydia nodded and folded the jeans and a tube of lipstick fell from the pocket. Out of instinct Ryan reached for it and caught it in her unlatexed palm. She swore angry that she had just contaminated possible evidence.

Suddenly images started to flash, the victim in a room, screaming. The girl crying as she applied the lipstick looking in a mirror. The feel of something being forced into her body. Ryan screamed in agony as she felt the knife being drawn out, knowing it would be plunged again. Falling to the floor Ryan dropped the tube but continued to scream until shock made it all fade to black.

Chapter 2

The detectives walked onto the scene to the usual jibes. Make way for the royal couple! Somebody roll out the red carpet. Detective Jackson Prince and his partner Thomas Lord just ignored the calls until some idiot asked if his highness would like his coffee in a gold chalice. Prince turned on the man ready to put him through a wall but his partner put a hand on his shoulder.

Forcing a laugh Lord told the offending cop. Don’t you know that’s a good way to lose your head? Or at the very least end up in a dungeon somewhere. Once they were inside Thomas shook his head. Too much caffeine? What was that about?

Jackson shrugged in return, he couldn’t explain it but something here put him on edge. The scene of the crime, a nice little restored 1920’s cottage, had been cleared for their entry and they were armed with booties and latex gloves.

Stuffing the booties in their pockets of course, it was standard issue but no one ever wore them. Unless it was a really messy scene and you didn’t want to ruin your shoes.

The house was tidy everything had a place, a family home. Prince walked over and looked at the woman lying on the living room floor. There were several knife wounds to the chest and gut.

The poor thing didn’t look big enough to fight back but there were a few deep cuts on her hands and arms. The stab wounds looked deep as well. Guy must have been strong to fight her off and plunge the blade to the hilt over and over.

Her clothes were soaked with blood but there was no puddle underneath. He looked around nothing was really out of place, no struggle. She wasn’t killed here. Thomas looked over his shoulder. Stand up and look at this.

Doing so Jackson let out the breath he was holding. Tell me that’s not a circle.

I can tell you, but it would be a lie. Let’s hope it’s a coincidence and not something more.

Prince looked around for any signs that it was some kind of weird ritual. Yeah that’s all we need right now, a whacked out redneck ritual killer running around Lake County.

They both swore and quickly finished up so they could get back to the station and confirm their suspicions. Sitting in their shared cubicle the computer screen came to life. Tom pulled up his chair as his partner started to search through the archives for old cases.

It only took seconds, from over a year ago an identical case they had worked popped up. Opening the file they read about twenty-six year old Sandra Tate’s demise. She was found in her home by her brother, seven stab wounds in a circular pattern.

It was a cold case no leads ever came from it. He didn’t want to think it but in his gut he knew it was true, Jackson Prince was once again on a possible serial killer case. He turned to his partner. You tell him.

Thomas glanced toward their supervisor’s door, Not only no, but hell no.

Come on he likes you, Tom. I’m the one he has issues with. He smiled trying to urge the other man on.

I’m guilty by association. Besides you know exactly what he’ll say. Quote, two bodies is a coincidence, three is a possible serial, and four is don’t breathe a word till some idiot leaks to the press, unquote.

With a sigh Jackson settled down in his chair. He knew Tom was right, there was no way Heinz would go for it. Not until enough people died. Still it didn’t hurt to check this previous case. The two victims shared way too many similarities.

Lord got up and put on his jacket. Come on I can see the hamster running. Let’s go talk to the Medical Examiner. It’ll be faster than waiting for the reports to be sent over.

Upon arrival they were directed by the front desk to an Andy Sipowicz look-a-like. Ah, detectives! Got your call. I took the liberty of pulling an older file for you to go with this one. When your girl came in my Spidey senses started tingling as I remembered this one.

Jackson didn’t like this. Either this guy was on the ball or Fate was setting him up for something. From the looks of the ME it was the second choice. Did you do the first victim’s autopsy?