Mercurial Dreams: Dreams and Reality, #3

By Hadena James

Aislinn Cain and the Serial Crimes Tracking Unit are being sent to the hottest place in North America to investigate mummified remains that were found in Death Valley. When Xavier Reece uncovers elemental mercury in the heart of one of the mummies, they discover there is more than Mother Nature at work. 

The victims have matching injuries, but only one of the bodies reveals the liquid metal, raising questions about how many killers are using the valley as a dumping ground. The team will have to use extraordinary means to connect all the victims to a single killer. However, with most of the victims unidentifiable due to the condition of the remains, their usual procedures of investigation are impossible. 

With 32 bodies already found, how high will the body count rise before Aislinn Cain and the SCTU can capture this killer?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hadena James
• Release date: Oct 31, 2013
• ISBN: 9781513065526

Book preview

Prologue

The dashboard said it was already 109 degrees Fahrenheit.  It wasn’t even noon yet.  The heat shimmering off the sands made it look like the very air had caught fire.  The desert stretched in front of the SUV, going on for miles without much more than sand dunes in sight.

Dr. Edward Holmes, a geologist with the University of California, sat in the passenger seat.  He was applying zinc oxide to his nose.  He had already applied sunscreen to his hands and the rest of his exposed skin. 

The driver, Dr. Maxine Lineman, was also a geologist with the University of California.  She was dressed in desert gear; long sleeves, jeans, boots and in the back seat, a large brimmed sunhat.  She would have to wait until they arrived to put the zinc oxide on her nose. 

She hated the drive, they both did, but they only made it twice a year; that helped.  Coupled with the important research they were doing, almost made it tolerable.

They had gotten a late start this morning.  Both of them had been running late.  Dr. Holmes had misplaced the zinc oxide.  They’d had to stop to buy more and then Dr. Lineman had run over a rock shortly after entering the park and busted a tire. 

Changing the tire had been grueling work.  The sun beat down on them as they worked to remove the ruined tire.  Sweat had rolled down their necks, quickly staining their shirts and wetting the bands of their pants. 

Even in the car, they were mildly sweating.  The air conditioner was no match for the sun in Death Valley.  Nothing seemed to be a match for the scorched earth; not even scavenger birds dared to settle for very long.

They were headed to the Racetrack Playa, the most inhospitable part of Death Valley, to record how far the Sailing Stones had moved in the last six months.  They still didn’t understand why they moved, just knew that they did and some stones moved faster and further than other stones.  It was one of nature’s natural mysteries and both of them had decided to start researching it eight years ago.

Dr. Lineman stopped the Land Rover, but left it running.  They had reached the playa.  It was only June and the temperature was already reaching the triple digits in the morning.  The air outside the Land Rover would steal their breathe.  It would be thin from the heat and feel warm entering the lungs.  They would both begin to instantly have rivers of sweat run off of them.

She applied the zinc oxide to her nose and grabbed her notebook.  Dr. Holmes seemed as reluctant as she did to step from the warm interior into the scorching heat.  Finally, she sighed and turned the ignition off.  They exchanged a glance before getting out.

They found the first marker, a five foot piece of rebar hammered into the hardened ground; on the dry lake bed was a track.  Dr. Lineman got out a pen, Dr. Holmes got out a tape measure.  They set about searching for the stone.  It had moved exactly seventeen feet, four and three-quarters of an inch. 

Methodically, they moved to the next one.  There were two tracks.  They looked at the lines in the sand.

That’s not one of our stones, Dr. Holmes said.

No, but what is it?  Dr. Lineman began walking towards the second stone.  It was brown in color, not flat or round, but odd shaped, as if twisted. 

Oh my god!  Dr. Holmes said in horror, realizing it was a body, mummified by the desert’s sun and dryness.  Max, get back in the car!

Dr. Lineman walked closer.  Her mouth fell open to scream, but no words came out.  Now she could see that there wasn’t just one, but several of the contorted mummies.  It took another second for her brain to kick in.  She ran back to the SUV.  Dr. Holmes ran with her. 

There was no cell phone service in the Racetrack Playa.  Dr. Holmes drove at break neck speed for the nearest ranger station.  Dr. Lineman shook from head to toe in the passenger’s seat.  She still hadn’t spoken.  Dr. Holmes was trying to say soothing things to her, but they weren’t working.

He nearly collided with the ranger’s station.  His foot slammed on the break at the last possible moment and they careened through the parking lot and stopped inches from the building.  Dr. Lineman had begun crying.

Bodies!  Dr. Holmes shouted, jumping from the Land Rover.  Two rangers were walking out, obviously furious about the near collision. 

There are dozens of bodies on the Racetrack!  Dr. Holmes was now screaming.  His voice echoed in his ears, sounding unfamiliar.  Mummified bodies on the Racetrack Playa!

Calm down, Dr. Holmes, one of the rangers said.  He looked at the doctor, he’d known him since he started surveying the Sailing Stones and had never seen him like this.  What are you talking about?

The stones, we were checking the stones and... Dr. Holmes’s eyes suddenly rolled back in his head and he collapsed. 

Call an ambulance, I’ll check on Dr. Lineman, the ranger told his partner as he went around to the other side of the car.  He wrenched the door open.  Dr. Lineman was crying, rocking in her seat.  Tears left clean streaks through the dirt and sunscreen that covered her face.  Her body shook.  Dr. Lineman?

Horrible, so horrible, she whispered.  Dead people on the playa.  She kept repeating this over and over. 

Ranger Banks thought for a few minutes.  They were both in shock and talking about dead bodies on the Racetrack.  The rangers checked the Playa every couple of days.  It had been three days since they had driven past it.  They hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary.

The ambulance is on the way, the other ranger said. 

Get them both inside and call the FBI, if they are right, we’re going to need help, Ranger Banks pulled Dr. Lineman from the car.  He half carried her into the ranger’s station.  She collapsed into a chair and continued sobbing.  I’m going to drive out there and see what they are talking about.

Are you sure?  The second ranger asked.

I’m sure, Ranger Banks grabbed the keys to his Cherokee and set out through Death Valley.

Banks drove out to the playa.  He stopped as the little dirt road entered the dried lake bed and surveyed the land.  Everything seemed normal enough.  He turned off the Cherokee and got out a set of binoculars.

Once they were focused, he began to survey the desert.  His eyes finally landed on a stone, larger than most and misshapen, unlike most of the stones of the playa.  Most of the stones were worn with time and weather, creating semi-flat surfaces.  This one did not have a flat surface.  It looked craggy and lumpy.

Getting out of the Jeep, he began hiking into the playa.  As he got closer, he finally understood what the doctors were talking about.  It wasn’t a stone.  It was a body and as his eyes adjusted to the heat searing surface, he began to see more of them.  Dozens of them seemed to litter the desert floor. 

Banks dropped the binoculars.  For a time, he could do nothing but stare.  No one came to the playa.  How had these bodies gotten here?  He rushed to his truck and using a satellite phone, called his boss. 

One

My living room felt like an ice box.  The thermostat’s digital read out proclaimed it was sixty degrees.  I was wearing a hoodie and fleece pajamas as well as having a blanket thrown over my lap.  Not for the first time, I considered opening the doors to let the heat in.  However, with a broken thermostat and it being June in Missouri, this seemed like a huge waste of electricity.  It didn’t even go off at night.  They had promised to repair it three days ago and it still hadn’t been fixed.  I was seriously considering who I would have to call and yell at, to have it done.

I was grumpy anyway.  Even Colin Firth, in period dress jumping into a pond, wasn’t lifting the bad mood.  I knew because I had watched Pride and Prejudice with Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle twice in the last twenty-four hours.  Of course, I’d been bundled up like an Eskimo and playing video games to keep my fingers from freezing at the same time, but I just liked listening to them talk.

We had gotten back to Missouri two days ago.  This was why I was grumpy, I felt cheated.  We had flown two hours to Detroit, unloaded our gear, and arrived at the US Marshals office in time to find out the our serial killer was actually an idiot.  He had blown through a red light while we were unpacking and been pulled over.  The officer who made the stop noticed blood on the outside of the trunk and searched his vehicle.  The officer had found the body in the trunk, fresh enough to still be bleeding.

They told us when we arrived at the Marshals office.  We had been in Detroit a total of three hours.  Immediately, we hopped on a plane back to Missouri.  All in all, we had spent more time in the air than in Detroit.  Some sick twisted part of me was pissed that someone else had gotten the collar.  I kept trying to remind myself that the important part was taking a serial killer off the street.

This affirmation didn’t help.  I still felt gypped.  I hadn’t gotten so much as a good look at the case file. 

Then to make matters worse, I came home to find my air conditioner still running at full blast. 

The only thing I had going for me at the moment was the really big TV Trevor had decided needed to go into my living room, attached to a computer console that held hundreds of movies.  Pride and Prejudice, the six-hour BBC production, was among them.

My cell phone rang and I paused both Pride and Prejudice and the video game, Pharaoh, before checking the caller ID.  Malachi’s name and picture blinked at me.  I hated smart phones.  I had no clue who had put pictures with the phone numbers, I just knew that it irritated me.  I couldn’t explain the why behind the irritation anymore than I could guess who had put the pictures on it.

What?  I answered.

Hello, beautiful, how are you this lovely summer’s day?

Cranky.

AC still broken?

Yes, as a matter of fact it is.  Who do I have to beat up to get it fixed?

Did you turn in the work order request?

Yes.

Did you have them pick the company or did you pick the company?

I let them pick it.

Then I’d say it will be July before it gets fixed.  They use one company and that company is understaffed.  If it wasn’t working at all, they’d get to you immediately.  Since they don’t see your problem as a priority, after all, you do have AC, then you are being pushed to the bottom of the list.  Nyleena might be able to fix a parking ticket and get it done faster, but it’s not going to get you moved up the list very far.

Thank you for calling and ruining my day.  They said someone would be out this afternoon.

That’s what friends are for.  Is there anything else I can do for you?

Go jump off a bridge?  I giggled despite myself.

Uh, no.  I don’t mind the bridge part, but the sudden stop at the end is a killer.  I actually have a reason for calling you.

Work or personal?

Are they different?

Yes.

A little of both, then.  First, I need a date in about two weeks, someone to hang off my arm and sound smart.  My father is getting remarried and my presence is demanded at the wedding and reception.

Is that the work one or the personal one?  I asked.

Personal.

Ok, what’s the work one?

I also need a date for a work function.

You have a girlfriend, don’t you?

I did, up until yesterday.

You dump her or the other way around?

She dumped me.

I’m sure she had a good reason.

I am emotionally unavailable, whatever that means, I could hear his smile through the phone as he said it.

When is the work function?  What is the work function?  And is it black tie?

I’m getting an award.  It is black tie and it is the weekend after my father gets married.

You’re getting an award?  I didn’t bother to hide the disdain from my voice.

Yep, for taking six bullets to the chest and catching my bad guy anyway.

Do they realize you managed to do it because you are as nutty as a fruit cake?  And what about the chimpanzee thing?  Shouldn’t that nix the award?

The chimpanzee happened after the award was ordered and if they know I’m nutty, they aren’t letting me know.  So, what do you say, Aislinn?

Back to back weekends spent with you?

If your schedule allows, of course, Malachi added quickly.

All the current serial killers seem to be idiots.  If it doesn’t change, not only will I be available those weekends, I’ll be out of a job.

Oh, I heard about Detroit and Hartford.  The case before Detroit had ended just as unspectacularly.  The serial killer pulled a gun and went out in a hail of bullets when they tried to arrest him for drunk and disorderly.  We’d been in Connecticut for nearly twenty hours that time and at least the locals were nice enough to let us poke around his house when they walked in and found the severed hands we’d been looking for from our serial killer.

I didn’t need the reminder.

Hey, you were due for a vacation.  You’ve been ass deep in serial crimes since you started with the Unit.

Not true, I had a very nice vacation in March, after returning from Alaska, I didn’t need to remind him that this was because half of my team had almost been killed, including myself.  So they had given us two weeks off with pay to rest up.

Well, I’ll let you in on a secret, Malachi paused for effect.  You’ll be getting a call soon, probably tomorrow.  They haven’t officially declared it a serial crimes case yet, but they will.

What?  I asked, my interest piqued.

They found a bunch of bodies in the desert.  Mummified bodies.  No immediate cause of death has been found, which is why it hasn’t officially been ruled a serial crimes case, but I’m sure it will be soon.  It isn’t likely that thirty-two people walked into Death Valley and let themselves bake to death.

So, I’m going from my freezing igloo to the scorching desert.  A change of scenery would be good.

Did I cheer you up?

Sort of.  Do you have any other details?

Not at this time.  It is only a federal investigation because they found them on the Racetrack Playa and Death Valley is a National Park.

Nice.  So have you met your dad’s fiancé?

Yes.

Well?

She’s my dad’s fiancé, Malachi answered.  It pretty much summed it up.  Malachi had only minimal attachment to his immediate family.  When you got beyond his mother, father and brothers, it was a dead zone.  A step-parent would fall into this dead zone.

Young?  Old?  Blond?  Big nose?  Give me some detail.

She has two daughters, both in college.  She is blond without a big nose and has very white teeth.

You are astoundingly uninterested.

What can I say?  I’ve only met her a dozen times or so; it isn’t like I’ve spent time with her.

This woman is going to be part of your family.

I know, I’ll have to start buying her gifts, Malachi sighed.  So, we’re on if you’re around, right?

Yep, I said.  Malachi hung up without saying goodbye.  He never says goodbye.

I didn’t immediately unpause my game or my movie.  Malachi’s parents had been divorced for almost six years.  Malachi had never mentioned his dad was dating.  Now suddenly, he was getting married.  Malachi might not be all that interested, but I was.  I wanted to know more about the woman who would soon be Malachi’s stepmother. 

I knew Bob pretty well, he wasn’t exactly level headed.  He had quit his job as an architect to become a professional boxer at the age of 47.  This hadn’t exactly worked out and now he ran a gym that was always hovering on the brink of disaster.  Mainly because Bob didn’t know the first thing about business, boxing or anything else about running a gym.

All I could say was either the step-mother to-be didn’t know what she was getting into or didn’t care.  That intrigued me.

My phone rang again.  This time it was Gabriel.  My heart fluttered.  We were going to work.

Cain, I answered.

Why do you answer your phone that way when you know it’s me?

Because it’s work related.

Actually, it isn’t.  We are getting together for a barbecue and thought the sunshine and warmer temperatures might do you some good.

So you aren’t calling to tell me we are going to Death Valley?

Aside from the possibility of a serious sunburn and baked dirt, what’s in Death Valley?

Dead bodies.

I haven’t heard anything about dead bodies in Death Valley.

Oh, well then, what were you calling about again?

Food, Ace, a barbecue.  You know, getting out of your house, socializing with people, eating with your fingers and plastic forks on disposable plates.  Alcoholic drinks in odd glasses with pretty little umbrellas stuck into them, like a picnic in someone’s backyard.

I know what a barbecue is, I scoffed.

You don’t act like it.

I don’t drink, I said.

You don’t have to drink, the rest of us will drink enough for you.  You can still come for food and entertainment.

You aren’t going to let Xavier get drunk enough that he disrobes and jumps into the pool again?

I make no guarantees.

Time?

We are eating at seven-thirty, but get here early.

How much early?  Ten minutes or two hours?

How about a compromise and we say an hour before the food?

How many people?

Ten, if you come.

Who?

Good grief, Gabriel sighed.

Well?  I asked ignoring it.

Xavier, Lucas, Trevor, Nyleena, Xavier’s new girlfriend, a friend of mine named Gary and his wife, a friend of Nyleena’s, and myself.

Ok.

You aren’t coming, are you?

I’m considering it.

You are the most paranoid person...  Gabriel stopped.  Ok, the paranoia is justified, but still.  It will be a good time and I promise that no one is going to try to kill you.

Except you?

Well, that is always a possibility.  The possibility rises if you don’t come over.

You are blackmailing me into coming to your gathering?

Yes, I am.  If I was really mean, I’d order you, because technically, I’m your boss.

You can’t order me to go to a barbecue.

"Yes, yes I can.  You are in need of some release and socialization.  You cannot sit in your living room playing Pharaoh and watching BBC movies until our next case."

"I’m not sure which part I find more disturbing.  The fact that you know I play Pharaoh or that you know I am watching BBC movies.  Are you spying on me?"  Since Gabriel was my neighbor, this was a very real possibility.

No, I just know what you do when left alone for days at a time.  You’ve been in your house, alone, since we got back from Detroit.  It is time to come out and play with the others.

Yes, boss, I’ll be there at six-thirty.

And change out of your pajamas before you come.  Wear something casual, shorts or something.

I don’t wear shorts.

It’s June and it’s hot, you could wear shorts.  Might help those pearly white legs of yours.  They need some sun.

Gabriel, I will come to your barbecue, but I am not wearing shorts.

You are going to bake to death if you wear jeans.

Then I’ll bake to death.  Are we done?

You are going to need to shower before you come over.

How do you know I didn’t shower this morning?

Because when we got back, you mentioned it was barely sixty degrees in your house.  I know you, Ace, and you are not going to shower with it being that cold in your house.  If you want to use mine, you can come over around five-thirty.  Bring clothes to change into, I’ll even let you wear your pajamas and hoodie over.

You are spying on me, I said taking a moment to look over my shoulder out the sliding glass door.  If Gabriel was spying, he was doing a good job of hiding while he did it.  I didn’t see him, even though I could see into his backyard.

I’m not spying on you.  I just know how you are.  See you in a bit.  He hung up the phone.

I considered dialing Nyleena to ask how much she had bet I wouldn’t go to the barbecue and decided against it.  I did need a shower and I wasn’t going to shower at my house.  Being wet in sixty degree weather was not my idea of a good time.  I got up and trudged upstairs to the bedroom.  I grabbed some clothes and shoved them into a duffle bag.  I slipped on my tennis shoes and grabbed my keys.  I walked across the street and rang the doorbell.

Aislinn!  Trevor nearly squealed my name.

I need to use your shower, I told him.

"Still haven’t fixed the

Reviews for Mercurial Dreams

[Lau Marie · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I honestly love everything this woman writes. I get so invested in the characters and storyline. This series is one of my favorites. Can not go wro my with this book or any of her others.

[Larisa Miron · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I love the series, but I am a bit annoyed that the third book is not available in my country.