Deadly Deja Vu

By Flo Fitzpatrick

A grizzly murder in rural Alabama brings a young woman back to the trauma of her past in this gripping thriller.

Natalie Willis was seventeen when she returned home from a Halloween party to find her entire family murdered. Now, seven years later, the reclusive children’s book author faces a devastatingly similar circumstance. It’s another Halloween night when Natalie decides to check on her neighbors, only to find them both murdered and their son missing.

Attacked and left for dead, Natalie regains consciousness under the care of Moon Valley Police Chief, Gil Acosta. Determined to care for the beautiful and troubled author, Gil must unravel the connection between two eerily similar murder cases which occurred within eighty miles of each other, seven years apart. As Natalie joins him in the investigation, it becomes deadly clear that the killers won’t wait another seven years to strike again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Aug 3, 2021
• ISBN: 9781639843046

Flo Fitzpatrick

Flo Fitzpatrick was born in Washington D.C. and quickly moved a chateau in France (Army brat). She's certain the Gothic setting sparked her desire to write. A performer, teacher and choreographer, Flo holds degrees in dance and theatre. Much of her adult life consisted of shuttling from Texas to New York and she loves each state for spawning richly diverse and often extremely wacky characters. Her time travel romance Haunting Melody was recently optioned for film.

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Deadly

Déjà Vu

by Flo Fitzpatrick

Deadly Déjà Vu by Flo Fitzpatrick

Copyright © 2020. All rights reserved.

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Published by Pen It! Publications, LLC in the U.S.A.

812-371-4128   www.penitpublications.com

ISBN:  978-1-952894-50-3

Edited by Rachel Hale

Cover Design by Donna Cook

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Chapter 1

She knew.

It was absurd. Impossible…and yet she knew. It would be the same. A scene guaranteed to haunt her dreams and ensure her waking hours be spent fighting the desire to slip into oblivion.

The first indication that something was wrong was the gaping hole where the Hadley’s front door used to stand. Only the hinges remained. Natalie shivered as she spoke to the air. Insane. This isn’t right. Talk about one impossibly precise gust of wind. She poked her head inside and called, Mr. Hadley? Mrs. Hadley? Aiden?

There was no answer. A second indication that more than bad weather had ripped apart a once peaceful space. She glanced back at her own house as if to confirm it hadn’t disappeared during the time she’d made her way across broken branches strewn across the connecting yards. At that precise moment, the lights in her upstairs bedroom flickered for a brief moment, then all went black, making this the third power outage in the last forty minutes.

 Natalie gripped her flashlight tighter and forced herself to turn away from the front door, retrace her steps to the yard, then head for the back of the Hadley’s house. She took a moment to call emergency services in case of what were doubtless injuries suffered by anyone in the house when the tornado hit.

She dialed 9-1-1 and received a prompt response from the dispatcher.

Moon Valley Police. This is Kenisha. Who’s callin’ and what’s the emergency?

Hi, Kenisha. Um. This is Ms. Starr. I’m out on County Road Forty-three. It’s the cul-de-sac by the pond leading to the Terrapin River. The one with only three houses. Anyway, my place is fine but my neighbors...Craig and Emma Hadley...well their house has suffered some damage from a roof collapse and I’m afraid they might be hurt. The front door doesn’t exist anymore and I’m not getting any answer when I call out. She paused before adding, Also, please tell your driver that there’s a huge tree down right where you make the left turn from Baines Road onto Forty-three. It could be problematic getting emergency vehicles through without some heavy equipment to move it. Oh! Almost forgot. The power’s been intermittent. Actually, as of about a minute ago, it’s non-existent.

Got it. Thanks, Miz Starr. Call us back if it turns out someone’s hurt and someone should be able to talk you through some emergency first aid.

I’m certified, but I’m grateful for any help. Thanks.

The back door was also open but still on its hinges and intact. She stepped into the mudroom. Boots, coats, bags, and umbrellas…all were on the floor in disarray, yet the hooks on the wall were in place. 

She called out, Anybody there? It’s Natalie from next door. Is everybody okay? Again, no answer. The weather services, via five different radio stations with deejays announcing far too cheerfully that the storm was going to be bad, had been telling folks since early afternoon to skip any Halloween trick or treating and stay safe…costumes and candy could wait. She hoped the Hadley’s had heeded the warnings and hidden in the bathroom during the worst of the storm, but the knot growing larger and tighter in her chest was a clear message that she was about to enter a site where Hell had arrived…and stayed.

She stayed in the kitchen and aimed the flashlight into what had recently been the Hadley’s living room. Part of the roof had collapsed and crashed through the attic and second floor. Loose shingles and wood covered a space that appeared to be no more than four feet wide and about ten feet from where she stood. Loose nails had apparently bounced across the hardwood floors and landed in the kitchen. Natalie glanced at a portion of a mangled tarp. Aiden had told her his dad was doing his own roof repair. He obviously hadn’t been able to finish before the storm hit.

She wasn’t given to premonitions but she instinctively knew something was way off. It was too quiet.

Hello? Everybody okay? she shouted. Again, there was no answer. She had to force herself to take a step inside, away from the kitchen.

The living room was clear of debris from the storm…but it wasn’t clear.

Natalie’s throat tightened. She couldn’t breathe. She gripped the flashlight, more in an effort to cling to reality than for illumination, but her duffle bag fell to the floor, sending water bottles bouncing across the room and blankets tumbling at her feet. She clung to a heavy chair in an attempt to stay upright as she stared at the blood spattered over every piece of furniture, on the rug, on the walls…and on the bodies of Emma and Craig Hadley.

Blood intermingled with scraps of fabric from the floral-patterned chairs and sectional sofa. It appeared someone had used a very sharp knife to methodically slash through the furniture. Tables were overturned and an entire china cabinet had toppled over and now rested on its side. Glass from the cabinet had merged with the mounds of broken dishware and what had once been ridiculously cute figurines. The mess lay about a foot from where she stood. Her body and her mind froze.

Natalie let the flashlight drop. She closed her eyes but she couldn’t stop the visions or erase the panic. She’d stumbled into a time machine set to the worst night of her life and was reliving the horror of another Halloween, seven years earlier, when she’d come home from a party and found two masked figures literally shoving aside the bodies of her parents. In her mind, she could still hear them…shouting obscenities as they vandalized the living room furniture, slashing through sofas and chairs, tossing end tables across the room. A crashing sound had signaled the destruction of the heavy sideboard in the dining room. Dazed, Natalie had followed a trail of collectibles leading into the kitchen. She dropped to her knees when she spotted her twin siblings, huddled together in the doorway between the kitchen and mudroom.

Blood stained the entire front to Mandi’s pink princess dress and leaked onto the huge pink sash behind her and on to the floor. The silver plastic tiara remained on her curls; each sparkling fake jewel still intact. Marty Willis had fallen on top of his sister, with his arms wound around her as if he’d spent his last moments trying to protect her. Age seven. Dying a hero in his Halloween costume…a Superman unitard complete with cape and large red logo.

Natalie ran to the twins, gathered them in her arms and rocked them, sobbing, knowing they were dead, yet willing them to come back. Take her instead. She barely processed the presence of anyone else until the taller of the two men grabbed her, slung her away from her brother and sister, and threw her to the ground. He repeatedly slapped her, shouting, Where is it? and she screamed and cried out she didn’t know what he wanted.

He stopped yelling. The quiet was worse. He slashed her leg and she watched her blood mingle with that of her younger siblings. Then he slipped the knife under her shirt and snapped off the top of her bra strap. She’d fought back with kicks and scratches. He’d calmly slashed the knife across her right cheek. The intent appeared to cause pain rather than seriously wound…and it worked. Then the wool scarf she’d worn against a late October chill turned into a deadly weapon as the killer tightened it around her throat, slowing cutting off her air. She could feel her vocal chords bending and stopping her cries.

The world faded into darkness and for a moment she was grateful. She was going to die. Death would mean the end of pain. Death would reunite her with her family. She squinted. Mandy and Marty had gotten up from the floor and were waving at her; bags of Halloween candy held out for an enthusiastic inspection. She could hear them giggling. She tried to smile but the vision faded along with hope.

Then she heard a different sound…gunshots. A police officer took aim and her assailant slid off her, loosening his grip around her throat. His blood seeped into her shirt, her scarf, and her face, mixing with the blood of the twins.

 She was alive. Angry at not being able to join her brother and sister. The pain…both emotional and physical…was unbearable. Natalie heard someone asking, Are you okay, Miss? Can you speak? and another voice shouting, She’s lost a lot of blood from her leg. Make a path and make it snappy. She was lifted onto a stretcher and carried outside, unable to speak and tell whoever was bearing the load to just let her stay there. She didn’t mind. A light rain increased and became a steady, hard downpour. The EMTS covered her and kept her dry but she wanted to tell them to stop. Let the rain wash away the blood. Wash away her life. She didn’t care.

Natalie blinked, brought herself back to the present, grasped the arms of the heavy chair, pulled herself up, and walked out of the Hadley’s house. Their killer could have been in the next room or the next county. She didn’t care.

The rain hadn’t slackened in the fifteen minutes she’d been inside. Within seconds she was soaked. She didn’t care. It was all the same.

Chapter 2

2:00 A.M., November 1st

Hey, Gil. Just got a call from the crazy hermit lady who bought the old Carter house out on Forty-three. Says the roof at the Hadley’s collapsed and no one’s answerin’ inside. She’s on their porch. Suggested we oughtta send someone out.

Moon Valley Chief of Police, Gilberto Acosta, finished pouring his fifth cup of coffee for the night and shot his dispatcher a sharp look. Kenisha. May I remind you; we serve the people of Moon Valley. Labeling someone a crazy hermit lady is not the best way to refer to a citizen of this town. Especially one who’s just called in an emergency.

Kenisha Franklin, who’d been with the Moon Valley Police Department a good twenty-six years, snorted, not one whit intimidated by a chief in his early thirties who’d only moved to town three months ago. You met her?

Gil shook his head. Nope. Have you?

"Nope. Just heard about her. Total recluse. Been here ‘bout four years I guess. Almost never comes to town…has everything delivered includin’ orderin’ stuff so’s she could fix up the house…you know, paint and supplies and tape and, well… stuff. The vet, Doc Tucker, sees her when she brings her dog in. ‘Cept I think the dog died ‘bout month or so ago. Anyway, Spike says he’s spotted her eatin’ lunch with your buddy Callie Whitney a coupla times over at Jimmy’s Diner. Workin’ on books, he said."

Gil finished zipping up his heavy jacket. What do you mean ‘working on books’? Are we talking accounting software for Callie’s taxes? Sorting through bestsellers for the Moon Valley Bookstore annual fundraiser? Reviewing the latest Stephen King or John Grisham for a book club or the local paper?

"Nah…nah. I mean writin’ ‘em. Books. She’s a crazy hermit but she’s kind of a celebrity too. She writes some kinda sci-fi type books. Um…Tempo Travelers. Yeah. And Callie’s her…whachacallit? Kenisha closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them wide and proudly stated, Illustrator. Yeah. Illustrator. I’m surprised you don’t know this since you and Callie are big-time buddies."

Gil stared at her. Are you talking about M.J. Starr?

Kenisha stared back at him. Yep. Sounds right. I never read those books, though.

Well, you wouldn’t since your kids are grown. They’re children’s books. It’s a series about ten-year old twins traveling through time saving the world. They’re excellent reading, whether you’re an adult or a kid. I got hooked on them after Callie told me she was the illustrator. I’m surprised she never mentioned that Ms. Starr lived here in town. Then again, I’ve been a bit busy trying to get this department organized for the last four months. And Callie’s always off somewhere crazy. I think last month it was an African safari. Shooting rhinos and jaguars…photos…not rifles. None of which is the point of tonight’s crisis. He dropped the topic of Moon Valley’s resident author and her globe-trotting friend. Okay. So, we have what appears to be an emergency situation with the Hadleys. Has anyone from their house called in yet? Or only Ms. Starr?

Just her.

Which means either nothing happened that was severe enough to call in…. or the opposite. Gil paused before adding, We’ve been lucky here in town. Nothing major happening apart from power outages and people seem to be smart enough to stay home. So, let’s err on the side of caution and make sure everyone’s okay. Call the EMT’s and tell them to head to Baines Road unless they’re dealing with a definite emergency somewhere else. If so, ask them to stand by in case they need to add the Hadleys. He glanced around the deserted station. Kenisha, would you also see if you can track down Spike and Sara and ask them to meet me at the Hadley house?

Yep. Kenisha waved her hand at Gil. Oh, ‘fore I forget, Ms. Starr said there’s a big tree down on Baines and Parsons. Not sure you can even get an ambulance through, so you might want to take somethin’ bigger than the cruiser. But you’d best be careful. I’ll tell Spike. He’s out checkin’ the damage at Googey’s and Sara’s with Mister Pete at his auto shop.

Thanks. I’ll grab my truck.

Twenty minutes later Gil was standing on the side of that truck, eyeing the trees lying across the intersection of Baines and Parsons. Kenisha was right. The giant pines had effectively established a deterrent to anyone attempting to gain access to the road by any means other than on foot…or perhaps a bicycle. The sides of the road, made up of walls of trees that were of a mix of maple, oak, and pine, nestled near thick bushes with no discernable pedigree, had created more impenetrable barriers. For a moment, Gil agreed with his dispatcher as he stood shaking his head wondering just how reclusive someone would have to be to live on County Road Forty-three the year round.

Gil reached inside the car, grabbed his radio and managed to track down Officer Cyrus Spike Roland. Spike? Would you call Gray Allen’s Landscaping and see if Gray or one of this team can get out to Baines and Parsons where they intersect at Forty-three? I’m sure he’s swamped, but we might have some injured people at the Hadley residence. I’m about to walk there myself…it’s faster and easier. And get here as soon as you can in case I need help doing some emergency ‘people’ carrying.

Gil grabbed a first-aid kit, water bottles, and some blankets from the back of his truck, threw them into a large backpack, and spent a good five minutes hacking away at vines and branches before beginning the trek down the road. The rain hindered his speed with a relentless pounding. He drew his raincoat in a little tighter over his jacket and adjusted his hat at an angle to steer a little of the water away from his face. He kept his flashlight moving from side to side to avoid either running headlong into a large branch or sliding into a deep puddle.

****

The rain smacked Natalie back into reality. She’d been psyching herself up to turn around and wait for the police on the back porch when she spotted a light moving in the Hadley’s garage. She froze. The rain was now a steady sheet of water resulting in a blocked view everywhere but about two feet from where she stood. She glanced down at her yellow slicker and knew the opposite was true for whoever the someone was. The sunshine color contrasted with the stream of grey rain, allowing anyone as far away as the Burris cottage to see her and be aware of her vulnerability. The power remained off, which was a mixed blessing. With only a flashlight, this person would have a hard time seeing her but it also kept him from being forced to run and hide.

Hiding seemed her best option as well, but the closest building providing shelter from the torrential rain was the Hadley house. And her feet had turned uncooperative by ignoring her brain’s directive to move. They were firmly entrenched in this far-too-open site close to the Hadley garage. It was as if someone had poured wet cement around her ankles five minutes earlier and it had done an efficient job by morphing into a concrete slab. Dropping her flashlight in the Hadley’s living room hadn’t been the best move. It could come in handy as a weapon to blind someone else…or take a swing if necessary. But she preferred to face the dark and an unknown possible assailant rather than spend another second inside a room filled with death.

The rain suddenly stopped, allowing light from the full moon to gleam on the paved driveway. She could see her house again.

Come on, Nat. she said aloud in an effort to give herself courage. You can do this. If you don’t do this, you might very well feel a knife in your side. Now…move!

Her dash to her door was cut short when someone wearing military style camouflage garb grabbed her slicker and whirled her around. She stared up into the face of the devil and screamed, trying not to faint in the presence of evil. She blinked. The man was wearing a Halloween mask. She intuitively knew he’d been in the Hadley house. She also knew the evil wasn’t coming from a fancy rubber disguise, but from what lay beneath it.

He slapped her and shouted, Where is it?

She tried to answer, tried to ask what he was talking about but no sound came out of her throat. He wrapped his arm around her, keeping her in a chokehold and she slid to the ground. She passed out for a moment and drifted into that state heavy sleepers find themselves in around 3 a.m. when they’re not sure if they’re dreaming or awake. The only image in her mind was of her siblings in their Halloween costumes from seven years earlier. Mandi and Marty kept chanting, "It’s