The Touch Mysteries: "Devil's Touch"

DAY ONE FORT WORDEN DAYTIME He watched her pull into the parking lot at Fort Worden State Park, his heart pounding as she turned to look over her shoulder, checking for a passing car, or a jogger, or maybe someone out for a walk with their dog in typical Port Townsend. People here were always so nice, respectful, and sweet, careful to look out for their fellowman. He thought about how he would do it, how she’d smell and taste while he was doing it, what she might say. The fantasy grew stronger. From the moment he had seen her picture, he had loved her. But she would never be with the likes of him, not once she got to know him. Shaking his head slowly, he remembered the guy she’d taken a walk with near here last week as he had looked on. His tan pants, brown loafers, clean haircut and boyish looks. What a perfect couple they seemed. He thought of all of the photos he had seen of her with the people she loved. She parked, got out of the car, and locked the door as he looked on. Something in her left hand made him angry, then enraged. The sight of it made him want to do her right there in the middle of the parking lot for all eyes to see. It was a picnic basket, brimming with food. He took in the rest of her. Open-toe sandals, white summer dress, freshly painted fingernails, shoulder-length red hair, looking like she had just been to Martha’s Beauty Shop. The smell of her body lotion wafted into his car. His hands began to slide down the steering wheel, his sweaty grip loosening. She was meeting Mr. Wonderful Tan Pants! Mr. Future. But not today. Thank Satan for small diversions. As she headed for the path leading up to the historic battle station at the fort, he got out of his car and did the same. Everything was in place. Hours of reliving this day had kept him awake to the point of insomnia. Soon, she’d finally respect him, understand his power and see what she had been missing. All the others had adored him; some days he felt he could walk on water. Now he only had eyes for her, but she had never even noticed him. As he thought about this he looked at the bottle of medication sitting on the passenger’s seat, prescribed for what he called mind pain. HOW DARE SHE! UPTOWN PORT TOWNSEND NIGHT TIME The wind rocks my car like a mosh pit. The windshield wipers splash rain drops back and forth partially clearing my view out the front. The movers won’t be here until tomorrow with the rest of my stuff, but for now my car is loaded with blankets, towels and pillows blocking my rear view. I’m glad I’ve taken off my high heels and put on tennis shoes for this night move. I’d already spent weeks up here with my mom after selling my house in Seattle. Now, sitting at this intersection, the clock glows eleven. Rita Kane, my real estate agent, said the key would be waiting for me under the mat in front of my new house. I’m at the stop sign with no one behind me, so I wait...and ponder. A left on Roosevelt changes my life. I’m dying to have my son, but I’ll have to fight my ex for him. I will have moved out of the city I love and left the friends I know. Here, I will have to meet new people and I’m not sure I’m feeling all that chummy. Mom knows everybody in PT and I was able to meet her friends Bella and Dell when started visiting last year. My goal was to know more about PT and see if it was as great as Mom said. She’d told everyone else in town that I’m moving up here long before I’d made the decision. A sheath of lightening strikes in the west and I snap out of it. I make the left and head up Roosevelt. A few seconds later I’m looking up toward my right at the one gem in the neighborhood. My new house. As I’m coming to a stop, something black and tall races in front of the car. I slam the brakes as the figure dashes off . My head jolts forward, but thank God the air bags don’t go off . “What the?!…” I turn my head to the left to get a better look, but whatever or whoever it was is gone. I put the sucker in park, reach for my gun in the holster on the passenger’s seat and get out of the car. I can hear pounding on the pavement…then silence. I look up the street, but there’s no sign of a crime. My first night at my new home and weird things are already happening. Seems to follow me wherever I go! I ask the Good Lord to watch my back like He’s done a zillion times on the cases I’ve worked. I put my shoulder holster on as I hear a car pull up and I turn toward it pointing my gun. It’s Officer Slane of the Port Townsend PD. He’s my biggest fan. In my former life I was a full-time homicide detective, and this “kid” has followed all of my cases since he was ten. Scary. When I visited up here last year, I helped the PTPD solve some murders. He pokes his head out the window with his hands up. “How’re the new digs?” “Are you here to help me, or are you writing an article for Sunset Magazine?” He laughs, but I’m serious. My nerves are shot from moving in this foul weather, with the added pressure of a time crunch, and now I’m wondering if some hooded nut was prowling around my property.“Something wrong?” my friend asks, sensing my unease. I tell him the story. Slane starts to respond when his radio squawks. “Slane here on Roosevelt,” he barks. He listens, eyes widening. “You sure about that?!” he asks. After a few more seconds of listening he turns to me. “Any way you can give us a hand?”