The Voodoo Doll: Murder and Suspense on the Beautiful Carolina Coast

By Sylvia A. Witmore

The beautiful Carolina coast is the setting for this novel.

Kimberly Marshall's life was one most women would envy. She was sincere, beautiful and was married to a very rich older man who worshipped her. Her world came crashing down around her the day she discovered a Voodoo Doll in the bottom drawer of her husband's desk.

The doll was made into the exact image of Kimberly, wearing a yellow dress identical to one of hers. She was shocked to discover the top of the dress wassmeared with blood and long straight pins pierced through the chest straight into the back.

Then, the threats began......someone connected to her household was trying to kill her and each attemptbecame worse than the last one. Kim enlists the help of a handsome neighbor to come to her rescue and help her solve the mystery and stop the killing before both of them become victims themselves.

Kim has a very hard time believing that her husband or anyone in his family is trying to murder her, but she discovers that only the persons in her household would have direct contact with her; the house is too well guarded for an outsider to be able to get that close to her.

Mystery, mayhem, romanceand an unusual secret are combined in this book and will keep the reader guessing until the very end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 30, 2009
• ISBN: 9781467859509

Sylvia A. Witmore

Sylvia majored in Journalism in college but quickly changed to Creative Writing. She tried for 30 years to reach a publisher but was unsuccessful until 2008 when WHEELS OF DANGER was published by Authorhouse. Since then she has had more books published and this novel with be #11. Sylvia worked in Home Health for 29 years and retired in 2006 to keep two grandchildren and to write full time. Sylvia and CL were married for 40 years before his death in 2009. They have three sons, Chuck, Chris and Kevin and three daughters (not in-law) and ten grandchildren. Donovan is the oldest; Claire is 12, Chaz is 11, Lance is 10, Sherry is 10, Emma is 7, Eli is 6, Liam is 5, Bella is 3 and Kellen was born on 12/10/14. Sylvia loves to travel and spend time with her family. She is an avid reader and loves all kinds of puzzles.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

The midday sun burned bright through the huge windows as long, slender fingers dressed a tiny doll in a yellow silk dress. Thin fingers turned the doll in all directions so she could be studied from every angle.

Long black hair cascaded across her bare shoulders. Her large amber eyes were surrounded by long, dark eyelashes. A wide smile was painted on the lips with a bright, vivid slash of red lipstick.

A tiny black mole was painted on the left cheekbone, just beneath the eye. Gold braid was used to make gold hoop earrings and each time the doll was moved, they swung from her ears. The doll’s arms were moved to the highest position until they were held way above her head, then lowered to reach out in front, almost in pleading supplication.

Hard, strong fingers gripped the small waist of the doll trying to squeeze her in two, before the grip relaxed and the fingers smoothed the yellow silk back down across the doll’s rounded hips. Then, a pin cushion was pulled within easy reach. First the pin was dipped into a small bowl of red dye, then pushed deep in the doll’s chest. This ritual was repeated three more times until four long hat pins were embedded into the chest of the l doll, each pin surrounded by a small pool of red dye and against the yellow silk of the dress, looking exactly like small pools of blood. A satisfied grunt was audible in the empty room. The doll was ready! Ready to be taken and placed exactly where she would be found by her identical counterpart.

The only thing she knew about voodoo was what she had read in the books she had been given by a medium. She knew that voodoo was the evolution of a body of ancient African religious beliefs and followed a set of magical beliefs and hypnotic trances which originated centuries ago. It was practiced both in Africa and the West Indies, especially Haiti, but still existed today in some parts of Africa and South America as well.

She pulled the book closer to her so the words from the printed pages stood out vividly in the glow of the sun outside. ‘Voodoo began in the 17th century on slave plantations as a combination of Roman Catholicism and West African religious traditions.

Believers retain membership in the Roman Catholic Church and include the existence of loa, spirits who closely involve themselves in human affairs and some spirits in voodoo - may be either male or female. Maman Brigitte, the loa of death and cemeteries. Alda-

Wedo, the rainbow snake. Believers may be under the protection of one particular loa.

‘The loas are invoked by the priest (hounagan) or priestess (manbo) at ceremonies, during which members of the congregation become possessed by the spirits and fell into a trance. A voodoo temple (hounfort) has a central post from which the loa supposedly descend to mount the worshipper. The loa can be identified by the characteristic behavior of the possessed person. Loas include Baron Samedi who watches over the land of the dead; Erzulie, the black virgin or Earth goddess; Ogu, a warrior, corresponding to St. James the Great, and Legba, the lord of the road and interpreter between humans and spirits, who corresponds to St. Anthony the hermit.’ She closed the book with a deliberate loud snap and stood up to pace the length of the comfortable room. She lovingly held the doll between long, red-tipped nails as scarlet as the red dye staining the yellow bodice of the long evening gown, inspecting her closely for any obvious flaws.

Now, she cackled in erratic laughter, happily whirling around the carpeted floor.

I’m ready for my performance. Today, I am the loa and I have the power. I am omnipotent, indestructible. I can and will get him back just as soon as this imposter is eliminated. Let the games begin!

CHAPTER ONE

The setting sun was shining brightly through the glass portals of the French windows in the downstairs sitting room as Kim Marshall came in from the outside terrace.

She closed the doors tightly, muffling some of the ocean’s relaxing sound. She pulled the drapes together, then turned on lamps throughout the room.

She looked at the clock over the mantle and noting the lateness of the hour, hurried into the study next door to finish her daily inspection. Alec would soon arrive home from the office.

No other movement was discernible in the large chateau. She supposed the rest of the Marshall clan were upstairs in their rooms. The servants should be back in the kitchen putting the final touches on dinner.

The study with its large fireplace, surrounded by rows of old collectible books as well as new bestsellers was Alec’s favorite room, furnished expressly to suit his masculine taste. It was cozily inviting and tastefully decorated. Kim also preferred this room to the rest of the rambling old mansion she now called home.

Marina had already lit the evening fire. Now it gave the room and the floor to ceiling bookshelves a warm, cheerful glow. It was not yet cold enough for a fire during the day on the coast but Alex always preferred one in the study at night.

She sat down for a moment, relaxing in Alec’s favorite recliner. She lit a cigarette from the imported box Alec habitually kept on the table as she gazed dreamily off into the fire’s bright, colorful depths, briefly remembering her wedding only four short years before.

Alec Marshall was a forceful, dominant man. He had pampered her lavishly, giving her everything in the world she could possibly want. He showered her constantly with expensive gifts of furs, clothes and jewelry.

In thoughtful reflection, Kim sighed deeply. Because Alec was happy and content with their married life he assumed she was also. She wasn’t really unhappy exactly, not in the true sense of the word, but she wasn’t ecstatic either. Something was missing. Kim had desperately tried to make their marriage the success of those she read about in all the romance novels, but there was just something not quite right. That absent ingredient was intangible. Kim couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but the truth of the matter was that her life lacked something essential. No matter how hard she tried, that special spark just wasn’t there.

Children might have filled that empty void in her life but Alec was forty-five, eighteen years older than she was and he thought himself too old to start a family now.

He would not listen to her poignant plea for a baby. In all the time she’d known him, that was the only thing he had ever refused to give her. Secretly, she had stopped taking birth control pills two years before, but to no avail. She still had not been able to have a baby.

Alec’s first wife, Melody had died in an automobile accident a couple of years before he met Kim. She had heard bits and pieces of conversation through the years, but really the only thing she’d ever learned about Melody was that she was a spirited, passionate woman who always got her own way. She was a magnificent horsewoman and had been loved and respected by both family and servants alike.

Alec was much too alive and dependent on a woman’s companionship to remain a widower for the rest of his life. After their first brief meeting in New York, they began dating and were married six months later.

In the beginning, Kim mistook affection, respect and devotion for love. Their brief engagement was a hurried affair and Alec had never mentioned Melody’s name after their first dinner date.

But, even after four years of marriage to Alec, Kim’s thoughts drifted to Melody often. She wondered if her days in this big house had been as endless and boring as hers.

Disheartened and depressed, she shook off the reminiscent memories. Finishing her cigarette, she ground it out in the giant horseshoe shaped crab shell gracing the end table.

She stood up and walked across the luxurious thick carpet to the mahogany desk, automatically drawing a fingertip across the marble desktop checking for dust smudges.

Alec was very particular about all his possessions and demanded perfection from his housekeeper.

Her fingers came away quite clean. She automatically straightened a stack of papers on his desk. As she turned to leave, she noticed the drawers on the right side were not even. The bottom drawer had been left partially opened.

That was odd! Alec always closed every drawer and locked his desk right before going to the office every morning. In fact, he usually locked it every time he left the room. He stored important business documents there pertaining to his real estate business and couldn’t afford to have the valuable documents misplaced or stolen.

Kim pushed the drawer in but it would not close all the way. There was something inside the drawer preventing its closure. Fearful that someone might have broken the lock to steal something, she pulled the drawer open gently and began a careful search. Since she did not know exactly what the drawer had contained, she couldn’t tell if anything was missing, but there were a couple stacks of the papers out of order. She lifted them up to straighten them properly and placed them methodically back inside the bottom drawer.

She drew back in sudden surprise, gasping with strident pain. Something very sharp had pricked her hand. Tiny red specks of blood glistened against the whiteness of her index finger. Puzzled, she wondered what Alec could possibly be doing with a pin cushion in his desk drawer.

She pulled the drawer open wide to remove the offending object, scattering papers Her hand shook vibrantly. She drew back in horror. The shapely object in her hand was an exquisite, beautifully dressed doll. A tiny doll with creamy white skin and jet black hair; with deep amber eyes; but it wasn’t until she recognized the small dark mole on the doll’s left cheek that she realized its true significance! She was supposed to represent her.

The doll was dressed in a long evening dress, an exact replica of the pale yellow silk Alec had brought home from New York just a few weeks before.

Four large hat pins protruded out of the doll’s chest. At the base of each pin, small circles of blood had dried, leaving dark red stains on the yellow bodice. Her chest tightened in sudden pain and she cried out in alarm as she stepped back from the desk, automatically dropping the ghastly doll. Oh, how dreadful!

The doll rolled across the floor, staring back at her, seemingly almost alive. Kim couldn’t move. Her legs felt like wooden poles without any power of their own.

Horrified, she stared down at the doll who seemed to grin derisively back at her. Every nerve and fiber in Kim’s body seemed ready to burst. Her heart thumped painfully against the walls of her chest.

Gradually, even though her pain continued, her heartbeat slowed back to normal as the horrible meaning of the doll dawned on her. She was a Voodoo Doll! She had heard Marina talk about hexes folks from the West Indies sometimes put on someone by making voodoo dolls in their exact image, then poking them with pins. Usually that person died very mysteriously and in extreme, agonized pain. She closed her eyes in sudden terror.

Why would someone go to so much trouble to make a doll in her image, then place it where she would find it? Was someone trying to scare her or did they have a more grisly fate in store? Did someone in this house want to harm her or did they want her removed permanently? Dozens of unanswered questions echoed around her in tormenting vibrations.

Slowly, she stepped back, trying to move away from the doll lying there on the floor. Her frozen, stiff legs moved mechanically. She staggered back in distress, wavering and faltering on unsteady legs. When she encountered something solid, she sank limply down on the large footstool near the fireplace.

She lit another cigarette, but didn’t actually smoke it. Kim steadily watched the dreadful object on the floor, but she never moved, only stared back at her in wide-eyed innocence.

If the pins had not been included, the doll might have been beautiful. But, with the bloodstains across her chest, she was ghastly. Hideous! Menacing!

The firelight turned the eyes a golden color. They did not stare emptily like most dolls. Oh, no. Hers seemed animated and vitalized as if they entailed a vibrant life all their own ….as if she could actually see Kim and was thoroughly enjoying her terror, which suddenly was made even greater by the incredible truth facing her.

In her uncontrollable fear the cigarette was forgotten. When it burned her fingers, she stubbed it out, almost unaware of the pain. She shook her head, closing her eyes as she tried to clear her mind, but her whirling thoughts ran in a vicious circle. Her head ached terribly. She tried to ease her pain by trying to calm herself and pretend the doll wasn’t there, but even when she closed her eyes she could still see the doll.

She was almost put into a trance by the doll’s presence. She glanced down at her again. There was a silly smile on her red painted mouth and the large eyes seemed completely triumphant. She seemed infinitely pleased with herself.

Suddenly, Kim noticed that daylight had slowly vanished and twilight had settled outside. She was now surrounded by darkness; still, she couldn’t move to turn on a lamp.

The study was completely dark except for the red and golden coals still smoldering in the fireplace.

From the stool she reached over to the woodbin and mechanically threw another log on the fire. As it flared back up, it seemed to warm her frozen limbs. She settled more comfortably on the stool, huddling close to the fire and its small comfort. She couldn’t move, yet she knew she would surely lose her mind if she didn’t escape from that doll’s proximity. Her mocking, staring eyes seemed enormous. With every growing minute, the doll’s implication seemed more sinister and alarming than ever. Her eyes never stopped staring. Her mouth never stopped grinning. Still, something impelled Kim to continue watching the doll. She was almost frighteningly mesmerized by its presence.

There was no sound anywhere else in the house. Suddenly, this unusual silence sent even more shivers vibrating up and down her spine. She closed her eyes, straining to hear a familiar voice or some sound of movement; anything to prove she wasn’t here alone with just this ghastly doll for company.

Pearl and Marina should be preparing the evening meal in the kitchen but she heard nothing. Frank and Audrey should be stirring around in their rooms upstairs getting ready for dinner, but she could hear no one moving around up there. The steady drone of the sea in the distance and the crackling fire as it licked hungrily at the burning logs in the grate were the only audible sounds in the room.

Just then, she heard the hesitant step in the hall. A sudden, stealthy sound just outside the study door. A step so furtive and secretive it was menacing. Kim sprang abruptly to her feet.

When she stood, she caught a glimpse of herself in the tilted mirror above the mantle. Her face looked deathly white against the black background of her sweater. Her reflection looked ghostly pale and artificial with her eyes appearing as two round, dark circles. Her mouth was pinched and drawn in a tight, compressed line. Again, she heard the cautious step in the hall. Reticent. Careful. Furtive. Secretive, but why?

Kim cried out, her voice sounding cracked and strained. Pearl?

There was still no answer.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she forced herself to call out again. Marina, is that you?

She waited for an endless minute. There was still no answering voice; only that uncommon, unnatural listening silence.

She called out again, her voice abnormally breaking in alarm. Hello, is anyone out there?

There was still no response from the listener in the hall. Forcing herself to be patient, she listened for a few more seconds, then took a hesitant step toward the open doorway. Her heart was beating wildly in her throat.

Just as she started toward the open doorway, she heard the audible sound of someone’s heavy labored breathing out in the hall.

She stopped just short of the door. Alec, are you home? She called out to her husband. This time, her voice was only a strange, guttural whisper, frightening and unnatural even to her own ears.

Still, no answer. Kim touched her cold hand to her trembling mouth. She wished fervently she had turned on some light in the room before it grew so dark outside. She couldn’t see anything in the hall but she could still hear the slow labored breathing of someone just outside the darkened doorway.

Who’s out there? Why won’t you answer me? She uttered harshly, her voice now sounding shrill and cold, rising on the edge of hysteria.

Hesitantly, she tried again. I hear. you. So, answer me! Who’s there?

She took another step toward the door. Mentally, she counted the space ahead.

One, two, three, about four steps and a half to the hallway. She could rush out of this dark menacing room and dash up the stairs to the safety and security of her own bedroom. She would be safe there.

The fire crackled noisily behind her. The clock in the hall chimed very distinctly seven melodious times. She knew then with a sudden, newfound horror that she wasn’t asleep. This was real. This was no dream. It was actually happening. She was being maliciously threatened by an unknown presence in her own home.

Alec should be home anytime. Pearl should be ringing the dinner bell in the dining room. Something should happen any minute to end this dreadful, tormenting nightmare.

Her eyes darted down to the forgotten doll, now lying unnoticed on the floor. She was still staring with open eyes, laughing scornfully. It was all her fault! She had caused this ridiculous fear in the first place.

She lunged out impulsively, giving the doll a vicious kick with her high heeled shoe.

The doll hit the facing of the door with a hard smack but only rolled back around on the floor, still with a derisive grin on her painted mouth.

Then Kim shuddered, trembling violently. She was as afraid of that ominous doll as she was of the unknown presence out in the hall.

At that moment, she recognized her vulnerability in the darkened room. She knew she couldn’t remain there for another second. Gritting her teeth, she surged blindly forward, her arms held out in front, determined to push away anyone who tried to block her escape.

She was almost through the opened doorway when the skin prickled on the back of her neck. Her beating heart stood still and her knees turned to a mass of quivering jelly. She knew danger was imminent.

A dark shape loomed outside the door. Momentarily, she saw the light from the fire suddenly glitter on the slim, silver knife poised high in a thin, shadowy hand. The hand plunged downward toward her face.

Oh, no, she screamed out in pure panic. Instinctively, she threw both arms up to protect her face. She heard a clicking sound as the knife struck the copper bracelet on her right arm. She closed her eyes as a blinding flash of pain ripped through her head. She fought the dizzy pain as she determinedly shoved herself roughly into her attacker. She lost her balance and fell heavily against the doorframe. She felt herself crumbling into merciful blackness as the hard floor rushed up to meet her.

CHAPTER TWO

The dull red haze of pain grew stronger as a cool wet cloth was pressed against her forehead. As her memory returned, she opened her heavy eyes and looked around in terror. She recognized the man leaning over her the same instant she realized she was in her own room. Alec bent over her bed, his face tender with care.

With a cry of unsuppressed joy, she reached up and gladly drew him into the circle of her arms, sobbing incoherently. Alec, oh Alec. Thank goodness you’re home.

What happened? he asked hoarsely.

She babbled incoherently against his strong shoulder, her voice muffled against the soft cashmere of his coat. He held her tenderly, smoothing her hair as he allowed her time to calm down. In a few minutes, Alec pulled back as he looked into her eyes.

What happened, Kimberly?

She was more in control of her emotions then and was able to speak clearly, although she kept her voice purposefully low. Someone stabbed me.

Stabbed you? he repeated incredulously.

Yes, she nodded solemnly.

He gazed at her blankly, his brown eyes darkening slightly. Kimberly, honey, you haven’t been stabbed. There’s not a mark on you.

Only because I was wearing this wide copper bracelet. Look at the deep scratch across the surface. A knife did that.

That could have happened when you hit the door facing. That’s where I found you.

She shook her head in vehement denial. No. The door facing did this. She pulled back her heavy hair from her forehead showing him the lump on the side of her head that was now making itself known with excruciating intensity.

You do have a large purple bruise there but the skin is not broken and that probably happened if you fell against the door facing. What caused you to fall?

I was attacked. Someone attacked me! His attitude of doubt made Kim angry and she tried to push his hands away.

Kimberly, don’t, he started to shake his head in dismay.

Don’t patronize me, Alec. I was attacked. She insisted doggedly.

He was shocked and the tone of his voice showed his exasperation. Don’t be preposterous, Kimberly! No one in my house would try to kill you. You’re imagining this.

I’m not, either. She shook her head violently, tugging at his arms as she desperately tried to make him believe her.

That’s just your over-active imagination working overtime.

No, no, she interrupted him rudely. Someone stabbed at me with a long knife, Alec. I saw it clearly in the light from the fireplace.

Now, Kimberly, he replied patiently. You must have slipped on a rug when you left the study. You hit your head on the door facing in the hall. That’s all. Darling, I found you still lying there and there was no one else around.

She shook her head frantically back and forth. Somehow she managed to answer him more calmly than she felt. No, Alec, I did not fall. Someone deliberately lunged at me with a large knife. They hid outside the study door. I heard them and called out. But no one answered. I can prove it. There was that awful Voodoo Doll with all that blood on the front of her dress and those dreadful pins stuck in her chest. She’s made up to look just like me and…….. She broke off hysterically as incredulity and total disbelief clouded Alec’s face, leaving him tense and drawn. He slowly grew pale and a nerve in his forehead quivered slightly. He looked at her a little sadly, slowly shaking his head.

Kimberly, you’re over-wrought. You have to get a strong hold on yourself. Calm down and tell me everything while we wait for Pete Roper. Pearl called him when I found you slumped on the floor.

She swallowed nervously, chewing her bottom limp pensively, trying to choose her words carefully. She had to make him listen. It was imperative that he understand exactly what happened to her. Late this afternoon, I was in your study and noticed the bottom drawer of the desk was not closed all the way. When I tried to move the papers around, I stuck a pin in my finger. I thought it was a pin cushion and I pulled it out.

Heavens, Kimberly, Alec bristled impatiently, surprise distorting his features. What on earth would I be doing with a pin cushion in my desk?

That’s what I wanted to find out, she retorted evenly. But it wasn’t a pin cushion after all. It was a doll someone had dressed up to look just like me.

What kind of doll? he asked quickly, his interest rising.

One of those dreadful dolls of voodoo with pins allover her chest. She was dressed in material like the yellow dress you brought me from New York, with dried blood stains all over her chest. She was horrible. It seemed like she moved in my hands. I threw her down on the floor. She seemed to be laughing at me and just stared back at me.

Are you sure? You’re not imagining this, are you? Alec stated slowly as once more his dark brown eyes clouded over unbelievingly.

I’m positive. I held that dreadful doll in my hand for just a minute. When I realized what she was, I threw her down on the floor. She seemed to be grinning at me, Alec, she really did.

Grinned at you? He shook his head in stern determination. Impossible.

But she did, she snapped back impatiently. She kept laughing that eerie, painted, almost smug smile. Her eyes even looked alive and animated. With a memory flash, Kim remembered where she had left the doll. But, Alec, then I kicked her against the door there leading out into the hall. She’s probably still lying right there on the study floor….. and .

Kim stopped talking when she read the skepticism on Alec’s face.

Alec shook his head adamantly. No, Kimberly, there was nothing on the floor. I would have seen the doll there when I found you. I had Pearl turn on the lamps when she used the phone on my desk to call Pete. But, we’ll discuss all of this later in more detail. Right now, please finish your story.

Still, she argued reluctantly. But, Alec, I’m sure you noticed the bottom drawer of your desk was open. I left papers scattered everywhere. Surely, you saw that?

Alec was staring back at her oddly. "I saw nothing out of the ordinary. When I saw that you’d fallen, I asked Pearl to call Dr. Roper for me. I must have locked the phone book in my desk this morning so I had to get the keys out of my coat pocket to unlock the desk before she could even find his