The Night Walker

By Gregory Guess

Esmeralda Chandelle is a very large and extremely dangerous woman who thinks that she is on a mission from God. When she hears his voice she acts...but not in a Godly manner.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gregory Guess
• Release date: Jul 2, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452382784

Gregory Guess

Greg Guess is a veteran entertainer/ musician who has traveled to 75 or more countries and has entertained for millions. He created his first work of fiction while working on a cruise ship and has turned out four more since then. He has been writing music and lyrics for many years but has learned that his real love is storytelling. He continues to write from his home near Memphis, TN. and plans to continue writing. He says his life as an entertainer and his humble beginnings on the wrong side of the tracks in a moonshining community has help create many of his characters and stories.

Book preview

The Night Walker

Smashwords Edition

Copyright-2010 Greg Guess

Chapter One

Naomi Peters tossed and turned and she knew that sleep would not come easily tonight. Real estate sales were down and her own mortgage payment had almost doubled due to the balloon note that the mortgage company had talked her into when times had been good.

She had been the top realtor six months in a row and things couldn’t have looked better when she decided to move from a tiny apartment and buy the house a little farther out in the country and then suddenly everything had come to a screeching halt.

As she lay motionless staring at the ceiling, she could have sworn that she heard footsteps outside the window. She parted a couple of the mini-blind shades and peeked out, she could see most of the yard on that side of the house. It had been somewhat obscured because of the large oak trees that surrounded the house but the bright street lamp just at the front of her driveway lit things up some, even though it did cast everything in an eerie kind of light, to her relief she had seen no one. The limbs of the trees swayed slowly in the breeze and the azalea bushes that needed trimming just outside her window had moved, but in what appeared to be a natural motion caused by the wind.

Her heartbeat slowed some after she convinced herself that the wind had been the source of the sounds that had spooked her. She had drifted back into the near dream state when she was suddenly jarred awake again by an aberrant sound. This time she sat straight up in the bed with her heart pounding. It sounded as though her back door had opened…she was certain of it.

Her mouth felt as though it had been stuffed with cotton and she could feel perspiration now oozing down the small of her back beneath her nightgown. Her arms trembled when she put her full weight on them as she tried to move across the queen-sized bed quietly to get her feet onto the floor.

She gasped aloud when the refrigerator motor kicked on and then felt a moment of relief once she realized what it was.

As her feet touched the thick-carpeted floor she felt weak and was aware that her fear had totally engulfed her. Her knees wobbled as she stood by the door for a moment and listened, but heard nothing except her own heart pounding. She could feel it beating in her throat and suddenly the urgency to get to Katie’s room to check on her had trumped all of her anxieties.

Katie had been the only child from a brief eighteen-month relationship and would turn seven on Sunday, a day that she had been anxiously awaiting for several weeks now.

Naomi was emboldened by the thoughts of her young daughter sleeping only a few yards away and immediately started to flip on the light switches as she passed them, cutting her eyes in every direction praying to not see anything. As she made the last few steps to Katie’s door she thrust herself forward instinctively as a sprinter headed for the finish line and stumbled, crashing into the door causing it to open too quickly and slam against the wall.

Katie’s eyes flew open having been awakened from a dream about Snow White and the Seven Dwarves and instantly burst into tears.

All of Naomi’s fears diminished as she rushed to Katie’s bedside to comfort her.

Its ok honey…don’t cry baby…mommy’s so sorry, I was just looking in on you and stumbled into the door…you can go back to sleep now sweetie…

Six-year-old Katie still had a habit of sticking her thumb into her mouth when something upset her and had immediately done so as Naomi gently laid her back onto her pillows and tucked the covers around her again.

In a matter of moments Katie re-entered the fantasy world that she had been snatched from so abruptly and Naomi smiled as she watched her little eyes flutter beneath the lids as they always did when she was dreaming.

Naomi rose slowly from her daughter’s bed conscious of the fact that her panic attack and innate clumsiness had caused her to stumble and had been the reason that Katie had been frightened into a crying tizzy. She was embarrassed knowing that her over reaction had disrupted her little girl’s sleep.

She stood at the door taking one last look at the sleeping beauty, her cheeks contracting ever so slightly as she sucked her thumb and rested peacefully once again.

She flipped the light switch and slowly closed the door but before she could turn to head down the hallway she felt the massive hand slip over her mouth tightly while another hand held her uncomfortably erect by the hair on the back of her head.

She had been half lifted, half dragged while she flailed frantically with her balled fists striking her attacker’s body anywhere that she could make contact and it frightened her even more when her hands began to sting due to the hardness of the attacker’s muscular body.

She had been moved quickly and effortlessly with her feet barely touching the floor and at the last moment she thrust her feet forward in hopes of lodging her heels into the thick carpet as they neared her bedroom door. How could she have let her guard down so easily? She had heard the sounds that she thought that she had imagined…

Aiken County Sheriff’s Detective Brian Richardson had gotten the four o’clock a.m. call from the county dispatcher. His alarm was set for six; his normal hour of awakening and fortunately his wife had stirred, but hadn’t been awakened by the soft ring tone of his cell phone playing Willie Nelson’s On the Road Again.

He slipped out of the bed and whispered into the phone as he said, Richardson. He listened for a minute as the county dispatcher apologized for waking him at that hour.

No…it’s alright…I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.

Brian Richardson never complained about untimely work related calls, it was part of the job, not his favorite part, but it came with the territory and he had always said, ‘if you wanted to nine to five it, detective work would not be the career for you.’

But this call sounded stranger than usual, a woman was discovered hanging from an oak tree in her front yard in the wee hours of the morning. That didn’t happen every day in Aiken County.

Brian elected to let his wife sleep knowing that she would call him when she did awaken to see what had called him out at such an early hour.

He grabbed a bottled orange juice from the fridge and a cupcake that had been sitting on a plate on the counter top left over from the evening before.

That would give him a good sugar boost until which time he could get some caffeine into his system.

The deputies did a good job of securing the crime scene and had wrapped the property in yellow police tape, they had gone from oak tree to oak tree and in only one corner of the back yard had they been forced to use a metal stake to complete the yellow barricade and completely surround the property.

Brian was pleased to see Sergeant Dennis Lunder on the scene. He was a twenty-year veteran of the force and was cautious at a crime scene such as this to insure the preservation of any evidence. He knew very well the importance of just a footprint, some fiber, or any number of other things that could be crucial during the process of investigating a case of this nature.

Mornin’ Dennis.

Sorry to roust you out so early Brian…

That’s what they pay us for sarge…did you check to see if there was anyone else inside?

No Brian I didn’t, no lights were on, so we checked all around the outside of the house and I’ve got Jimmy watching the back door, but I haven’t heard a sound. I thought that I’d wait until you got here and then the two of us could go in…you know, just incase.

Yeah, good thinking Dennis, any idea who she is?

The house is listed as belonging to a Naomi Peters and I’m thinking that this is her. I’ve seen her picture in the paper a few times lately for winning top sales awards for some real estate company uptown. You want to try and get her down before we go inside?

Brian thought for a minute before he said, I think that I am going to call Albert Cox and get him out here before we disturb anything, because we are going to need the F.B.I.’s assistance on this crime scene, it looks as if it could be a complex one, plus we’re probably going to need to have her swabbed to see if she has been sexually assaulted, hang on a minute and let me give him a call.

Special Agent Albert Cox of the F.B.I. and Detective Brian Richardson had grown used to sharing cases. They had developed an unusually warm relationship for a federal agency and a county police department. In most towns across America there would be a turf war concerning high profile cases such as this, with each agency vying for control of the case. These two top cops liked and respected one another and were both without excessive egos. The one thing that they had in common was that their only real concern when attempting to solve a case was catching the bad guys. They really didn’t care who got the credit as long as they were able to put them away.

Brian grimaced when the phone finished its fifth ring, he knew that Albert had been doing some late night surveillance on a suspected meth lab and was probably running off of fumes himself.

Cox.

Mornin’ Albert, sorry to wake you so early, but I got one that I think you may need to take a look at.

A murder?

Yeah, it’s down on Talatha Church Road, a guy going to work early this morning spotted her hanging from a tree limb…yeah, just past the big church on your left a little green clapboard house.

Give me about thirty minutes Brian and I’ll be there.

Ok Albert, sorry again man, I know you’ve been pulling some late hours…I’ll see you when you get here.

Hey sarge, you wanna get Jimmy to come up here and watch the front while you and I go in and take a look around?

Yeah Brian, I’ll be right back.

Jimmy Hall had turned out to be a good cop, considering the fact that he had recently graduated from the police academy, but Brian didn’t want to risk letting him go into a murder scene and possibly taint valuable evidence because of his inexperience. Unfortunately, there would be many more cases in which he would have the opportunity to gain that crucial knowledge.

Jimmy would you mind just hanging out up front here and when Agent Cox gets here ask him to come on into the house?

No problem detective.

Brian turned the knob on the back door and it was locked, he looked at Sergeant Lunder raising his eyebrows as he used the butt of his pistol to break the pane of glass at the lower left corner of the window in the back door so that he could reach in and unlock it.

As they methodically cleared the house room by room, with weapons drawn and extended in front of them, Brian’s thoughts went back to his rookie days where he would relive a case that had seemed as though it should have been a walk in the park, but instead they had encountered a crack head that had been surprised while in the midst of a daytime burglary.

The housebreaker lunged from a closet and his first shot had taken Brian’s partner down. He would always remember that adrenaline rush and the split second in which he had been forced to make the decision concerning what to do. At that early stage of his career he had only fired his weapon on the range and had never pointed it at anyone.

Fortunately, his training paid off and as the gunman repositioned his weapon to fire on Brian, two shots hit the center mass of the intruder’s body and sent him spiraling backwards into the closet from where he had come.

Brian quickly checked for a pulse and confiscated the perpetrator’s weapon and then rushed to his partner who had taken a round in his upper chest and was having difficulty breathing.

Brian had darted to use the radio in the cruiser and had managed to keep his composure well enough to get an ambulance on the way within minutes. He had acted quickly enough to play a huge role in saving his partner’s life, although the devastating wound caused by the three fifty seven magnum ultimately ended his partner’s police career. It had been quite a test for the then young rookie patrolman.

Clear! Dennis said as he stepped into the child’s bedroom.

The small home was empty and the only signs of struggle had been in what they determined to be the victim’s bedroom where remnants of the duct tape that was used to bind her dangled from the four-post bed.

Brian, I’m coming in.

Back here Albert…

Agent Albert Cox made his way back to the bedroom as Brian leaned close to the dangling tape, examining it without touching anything.

Brian turned to face Albert giving him an inquisitive look as he asked, What did you make of that scene out front Albert?

Albert holstered his weapon as he said, Well a medical examiner will have to confirm it, but I’d put my money on the fact that she was dead before she was hanged.

The detective and the police sergeant looked at each other simultaneously as Brian said, Well what do you think the purpose of the hanging was then?

Our profilers will come up with some pretty accurate suppositions, but I would guess that it is part of the killer’s statement, or a ritual of some kind. He or she or they, whatever the case may be, was probably very angry at this lady and it was more or less the same as putting an exclamation point at the end of a sentence. Do we have any details yet…is she married…boyfriend…ex-husband?

I don’t have anything as yet Albert, I did find her purse, but I haven’t gone through it because I didn’t want to disturb any possible evidence, how do you want to handle it?

Agent Albert Cox said, Let me get some rubber gloves from the car and we can at least go through the purse and see if we can find out if she has next of kin or contact information of any kind in there. I’ll get a team out here to go over this place with a fine tooth comb; something tells me that this is not going to be an open and closed case

Brian Richardson nodded that he agreed.

Chapter Two

The Night Walker chanted,

"To You I will cry, O Lord my Rock

Do not be silent to me,

Lest, if you are silent to me,

I become like those who go down to the pit.

Hear the voice of my supplications

When I cry to You,

When I lift my hands toward Your holy sanctuary.

Do not take me away with the wicked

And with the workers of iniquity

Who speak peace to their neighbors,

But evil is in their hearts."

Walking at night with nothing but the stars above would bring clarity and purpose and The Night Walker would feel closer to God then, than at any other time.

Besides, it was several hundred yards to the abandoned hunting cabin at the very back of the one hundred twelve acres that The Night Walker had inherited.

No one had been to the cabin for years, but The Night Walker had been taken there many years prior and it had been the introduction to the evil that existed in the world.

How could a relative be so cruel had been the thoughts and then after a while the trips became routine and in some strange way after the initial pain, it became bearable, however disgusting.

A brief stop at a familiar spot on the trunk of a large pecan tree that lightening had taken down earlier that year, then another one hundred and fifty yards and The Night Walker would take nourishment to the little sacrificial lamb.

Little Katie lay bound tightly by the duct tape that affixed her in an elaborate manner to the support post that ran from the wooden plank floor to the ceiling of the old cabin.

As the large shadowed hulk stood above her asking if she was hungry she peered into the bright light of the flashlight focused on her face, she blinked her eyes rapidly as tears streamed down her face but was unable to utter a sound because of the strip of duct tape that covered her mouth.

She had cried herself to sleep earlier and when the horrible nightmares came she laid there horrified as her small body convulsed. At one point she had almost thrown up and was forced to swallow the rancid liquid that made it into her mouth covered by the tape.

Now I am going to remove the tape, but you must remain quiet, because if you don’t, I will be forced to replace the tape and you will have to do without food tonight, do you understand me?

Katie’s eyes blinked rapidly as she slightly nodded her head. She was sick at her stomach but had been hungry for sometime now.

As the tape was removed Katie continued to stare into the bright light of the flashlight that had been placed on an old wooden crate, but still directed into her face so that she could not see her captor’s face, only the huge bulking shape that loomed over her. She took deep breaths even though the dank musty smell of the old log cabin was not inviting.

Now, there we go…I hope you like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, you do don’t you?

Katie nodded again slightly trying to figure out what was going on and where her mother was. She had never been more scared than she was that night, something had awakened her when it scratched frantically at the wooden door and she laid there trembling, wondering what it might be and what it might do to her if it made its way through the door. She had been relieved when the scratching finally stopped.

She shivered as she lay there listening to the sounds outside, sometimes something crashing through the brush and once something had howled several times that made her think of a dog. She became exhausted from the whole ordeal and managed to doze off again finally getting a couple of hours of sleep.

The monster before her now held the sandwich to her mouth allowing her to take a bite and would then sit back and watch as she chewed.

I’m thirsty, she said in a tiny hoarse voice and The Night Walker said, Of course you are, and produced a bottle of Gatorade allowing her a few sips but then pulled it back before her thirst was quenched. She took another bite of the sandwich and The Night Walker asked How old are you?

Katie responded succinctly, Six.

The Night Walker remained silent, remembering the first trip to this cabin at about nine years of age.

Could I have another drink?

Yes, of course you can.

As The Night Walker held the Gatorade bottle to her lips again she gulped the cold liquid down and started to feel the best that she had since the beginning of this whole ordeal.

Where is my mommy? She involuntarily started to whimper as she said it, but fought the urge to out right cry.

Your mommy had to go on a trip and asked me to look after you until she could return. The Night Walker spoke in a soothing voice almost childlike, but Katie didn’t believe a word that had been said. Her mommy would never leave her with anyone, not ever.

After retrieving Naomi from the tree the initial inquiries had been answered and it appeared that she also had a daughter named Katie that was six years old.

The little girl’s father whom Naomi had never legally married had moved on shortly after the birth of the daughter and now lived in another state. According to the information that they garnered it was a peaceful split and no custody battle had ensued.

Naomi, a light-skinned black woman, in her mid- thirties was raising the little girl on her own and by all accounts was doing an exceptional job. There was no known boyfriends according to her co-workers who claimed that she maintained that she didn’t have time for any of that, because Katie needed her time more