Sacred Daggers: A PIT VIPER MYSTERY, #1

By DeWayne Taylor

Pit Viper is a down to earth detective who just wants one thing, to find his brother. He uses his job as an avenue to reach that goal, but his cases keep getting weird and more weird. Along with CD, his best friend, they tackle the cases that no one else can handle. At this point, he's not sure which pursuit will be the death of him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: DeWayne Taylor
• Release date: Mar 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524294458

Book preview

Chapter 1

Ooww! My head is killing me!  What the heck happened to me? The pain was so intense it made me nauseous. What in the world did I get myself into this time? Funny thing is, I don’t remember. Come to think of it, I don’t remember anything. And by anything I mean nothing. My head was so blurry. I felt like I had the worst case of brain freeze ever. I slowly opened my eyes so the lights would not increase the pain.

Not a problem there. There was no light or at least very little. It was quite dark where I was, where ever that was. As my sight slowly focused in, I tried looking around but objects at a distance were hazy and it hurt to concentrate on them. Ok, let’s start with something simple. Who in the world was I? Man, losing your memory sucks. I checked my jacket pockets and found a wallet. Good, maybe this will help.

I found my driver’s license and it told me my name. Pit  Viper. Oh yeah, now I remember. Now of course that’s not my given name but that’s another story completely. Raised in a small town in southern West Virginia, you could only imagine what my real name was. It wasn’t Bubba or Bobby Joe or Billy Bob or something dumb like that but it was a family name that I did not like so I changed it when I moved away to York Town. My father was a coal miner until the coal industry bombed and he lost his job. He was one of the lucky ones though. He managed to have friends in the right places and landed a nice job with the State. He worked there for a long time and retired just a couple years ago.

My mom was a different story all together. She stayed at home with me and my brother until Dad lost his mining job. By then, Sam and I were older and she decided to go back to work. She spent several years in school learning the computer trade. When she got out she started working for an attorney as a secretary. Over the years she learned to hack into other people’s computers, by-pass firewalls, and the whole spy nine yards. Her skills were used to put away bad guys all over the state. No, it wasn’t exactly ethical, but the end result was a good thing. Besides, her boss encouraged her to do it to help close cases and put away the bad guys. He became famous and rich and shared greatly with my family.

I guess I take after my Dad more because I have no idea about computers. I use the contacts that my Mom has accrued over the years whenever I need help. I was more of a charmer. I used people skills and a great smile to win people over and then use them to get what I needed at the moment. Well, sort of like Dad, just with an evil twist.

Small town means small education. I did attend college and graduated with a degree in business. I did have a little accent from the south that just will not go away no matter how long I live York Town. I was not an English major, so don’t expect the proper ‘who’s’ and ‘whom’s’ to be used in a conversation with me. I could get my point across and that’s all that matters. I know the difference between ‘your’ and ‘you’re’ and I could use the proper ‘to’ in all instances. But when you’re speaking to someone none of that matters because they get the idea.

Right behind my driver’s license was my P.I. license. I had become a P.I. shortly after my brother disappeared. Sam had come to York Town to be a cop, of all things. Now I don’t mean that in a bad way. He had always wanted to be a cop and helping Mom with her job just fueled the fire. Sam was way too honest to be a cop. Yeah I meant that just like it sounded. In my life, my run-ins with the law have been very traumatic. The cops that I had come into contact with were some shady dudes. Taking payoffs from dealers and freebies from hookers was just the beginning. Some of these clowns were in bed with the mafia deep and I believe that’s what got Sam in trouble. Sam was fresh out of the academy and was putting thugs behind bars at an alarming rate. He nailed a few small guys involved with the mafia and some of his cop buddies told him to let it drop but Sam said no. One night on a big drug bust, Sam went missing. That was five years ago. Losing Sam is why I decided to become a P.I., I was going to find him or what happened to him ODT (or die trying). So I changed my name and moved to York Town and became a P.I. I’ll find the truth Sammy, I swear.

My eyes were adjusting to the low light, so I began to look around. I started with my clothes. I looked down at my nice dark blue pants all covered in dirt and gravel. My matching jacket was not as bad, but I couldn’t see the back of it. I’m sure the back was filthy because I had been lying on it. I wore nice black shoes that resembled loafers but had more of a tennis shoe feel. Mom always said Happy feet make for a happy person. My shirt was light blue and my tie was a darker blue. Both were completely covered in some dark liquid.

Great, blood. That’s never going to come out. I immediately removed my hat and checked my head again. It’s not mine, wonder who it belongs to? I looked around the room trying to see if I was alone or not. Anybody here. Guess not, either that or they weren’t in a condition to talk. The room was small and had no windows. The floors were made of concrete as were the walls. It kind of reminded me of a prison cell. How fitting.

The next big question to answer was How did I wind up in here? And where exactly is here? I lifted myself up off the floor and stood on my feet. A sharp pain shot through my lower back as if something was stabbing me. Ouch! God! Man I’m getting too old for this crap. On the other side of the room I saw a door. It was a wooden door. If I could get close enough maybe I could hear something or see something or pick the lock or ....don’t get ahead of yourself Pit. The pain in my head had eased just a little and my balance had returned enough that I wasn’t wobbling anymore. I started for the door. After two steps I did a face plant on the floor and the pain in my head returned.

What the ....chained, really? You have got to be kidding me?!? My leg was shackled to the wall with some kind of leather belt and buckle. It looked like one of those straps that you see on a bed in the crazy ward at hospitals. You know when they buckle someone down just before they inject them with some chemical that makes them tell the truth or turns them into werewolves or zombies or something. Did I mention I love movies and TV shows? Now I’m no good with the names of actors or titles of movies and such, but I have an ability to recall scenes and lines that have just stuck for some reason or another.

What we’ve got here is failure to communicate. That’s was a late sixties movie with that guy that made salad dressing and raced cars. I sat up to look at my ankle and the pain in my back shot through my whole body just to remind me that it was still there. A stabbing pain is the worst kind of pain. You can’t even rub it out because it is deep in you. The shackle was attached to a 5 or 6 feet chain that was anchored into the wall. It was a big chain too. The kinds of chains you hear people call ‘logging’ chains. There was no way I was breaking this thing. I could saw through it with a rock or something but I’m sure I don’t have 800 years.

This sucks! That was a direct quote from Piper, my friend CD’s daughter. Now, I never married or had any kids that I know about but CD and his wife Courtney adopted me for some odd reason. I met CD through Mom and we just hit it off. His daughter, Jaden Piper Sears, quickly became like a daughter to me. We get into so much trouble when we are together. She is 12 going on 25. We watch movies, the ones her mom won’t let her watch, and play video games together. Sometimes we just sit and talk. Those are the times I like most.

CD if you are out there somewhere I hope you know to look for me. But who was I kidding. I didn’t even know where I was or how I got here. I couldn’t even tell you why I was here. As I tried to stand again, that stabbing pain in my back reappeared and nearly brought me to my knees. Out of instinct I grabbed for my lower back and then, like a light from heaven, it dawned on me why I was here.

Oh God, now I remember!

Chapter 2

Two days earlier ....

It was another beautiful day in York Town. The sky was cloudy and rain looked like it was on the horizon. The stench of last night’s parties was fresh on the sidewalks and the only birds to be seen were the dead ones lying on the ground near the park. The clouds mixed with the fog and smog so bad that I couldn’t even see the windows of my office on the second floor. Sure it would burn off later, but I was outside now.

Most days I drove to work but today I chose to walk. It’s only three blocks from my home so I thought a little fresh air would do me some good. Man what a bad idea that was. The air was