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  "Yes," said John. "Carved out of women's bodies and hung here to dry like leather."

  "But, why?" Todd gasped.

  "My guess is they are trophies. These are women that he must have raped and murdered. These are trophies for him to remember them by. His prized possessions. We need to check DNA from the forensic reports. Search the database for any deceased mutilated women’s corpses missing the vagina."

  Walking outside to the car Todd looked at John and stated, "He did that to those women but who did that to him? John, we have a vigilante on our hands."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  John stood over the body of a young boy, not more than twelve years old. He reached down and pulled the toy gun from the boy's hand, looked down and peered into those hollow, empty eyes. A tear ran down his face as he glanced around to take in the surroundings and images of this Earth for the last time. "I'm sorry," was the final thought that crossed his mind as he put his gun to his mouth, pulled the trigger and sent the forty caliber bullet through his mouth, into his brain and exploding out of the back of his skull. The crystal clear full moon was the last image John Corbin would ever see on this planet.

  "John, John, wake up!" Julie pleaded.

  As John woke he looked at Julie's attentive, concerned face. "You were mumbling, tossing and turning in your sleep. Another nightmare?"

  "Yes, same type.”

  "Aw, you poor thing,"

  "I'm fine. I need a drink of water,”

  He got up, went to the bathroom sink, filled his cup and returned to bed. The bedside clock read 4:30. John turned on his side toward his wife. "Julie, what’s the point? No matter how much we accomplish, no matter how hard we work, how much we care, there will always be suffering. Somewhere a woman will be beaten, a child molested, an animal slaughtered. We can’t help everyone or stop all the suffering in this world so what's the point?"

  Julie looked at her husband. "The other day we lost a man in surgery. That hurts and that kind of pain is with you forever. But in the same day, we saved a good man. A husband. Father. I was the one to inform the family that he would pull through. The look of relief, happiness and love in their eyes as I told them will stay with me forever. So, John, you know the answer to that question. We help who we can. We stop the suffering of the ones we can reach. Don’t ever lose sight of that, sweetheart. This town needs you and you have made an amazing difference in our society. I will not let a silly nightmare ruin our one day off together as a family. We are going back to bed for a few more hours, then we are going to get up, take our two wonderful children to breakfast, then to the zoo and we are going to enjoy this beautiful day.”

  "Yes, you are right," John said.

  "You are a wonderful husband, fantastic father and an exceptional lover. Speaking of lover," was the last statement out of Julie's lips before her nightgown came off and they shared each other's bodies and pleasures for the remainder of the evening.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Todd watched Jacqueline’s curvy body move to the music with the ease of an experienced dancer. Her hips swayed in a way that Todd found very inviting. He soon pushed away his impure thoughts as he decided to take John’s advice and ignore his desires. Todd took a break from the dancing to order a round of drinks. They had befriended a lovely local couple and were all enjoying themselves dancing together. Todd brought the drinks to the table, then headed back onto the dance floor with the rest of the group. Jacqueline smiled, happy he was back.

  Todd and Jacqueline were staying at a bed and breakfast located at the base of Mount Si, 45 minutes east of Seattle. During the day, they hiked the famous eight-mile trail up the mountain, stopping to picnic near the top while enjoying the breathtaking view.

  Later that evening the couple were enjoying a glass of wine together in Todd’s room.

  “Todd, I really have enjoyed our time spent together, but I am not ready to take the next step.”

  “I understand. There is no rush. I will not pursue more than you are comfortable with. I enjoy being with you. That’s all that matters,” Todd said while gazing into her sea-green eyes.

  “Thank you, Todd. I knew you would understand.” She then leaned over and their lips met for the first time. Though it was a quick, soft, gentle kiss it sent an electric feeling throughout his body. Todd McGrath was falling in love.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  John was double checking some paperwork on a few solved cases. His attention to detail surpassed every other detective in his station. He would look over a case file two or three times to make certain there were no mistakes. John despised incompetence. He craved efficiency. His glance left the paperwork and he noticed the janitor meticulously sweep the debris into neat little piles, strategically placed at certain points on the floor. All that John needed was to watch someone do the smallest chore and he could tell instantly what kind of person they were. Whether you are sweeping the floor, shoveling shit, building a house or the leader of the free world, you do the best, most efficient job that you can, not for your boss' approval or the money, but because somewhere inside, in the soul, you get a warm euphoric feeling about a job well done. You don’t need any other reason. Pride in your work is an idea that has been lost on today’s generation, John thought. Or maybe he was just growing old.

  "Morning partner," Todd said as he sat down at his desk across from John.

  "Good morning. How was your weekend with Jacqueline?"

  “We had a great time. She’s a wonderful woman. We slept in separate rooms, but I am fine with that."

  "Take your time, build her trust. Whatever you do, be honest and show her that your intentions are pure. In time she will trust you without having reservations. When you finally reach that point my friend, she won’t be able to get enough of you," John said.

  At that moment an update flashed on Johns computer screen:

  Multiple animal carcasses found. Possible dog fighting ring and animal mutilation and torture at 16 Pleasant Meadow Road, Mill Creek. House and property owned by 72-year-old Peter Boyd.

  "You getting this?"

  "Yeah, Mill Creek was the town with the cases of the disappearing pets wasn’t it?"

  "Same one," John replied.

  "Well, it doesn’t take a great detective to figure out these incidents are connected. John, does it make me vile that of all the human suffering that I have witnessed, I cringe a bit harder when animals are in involved?"

  "Nope," John said. "It makes you more human.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  16 Pleasant Meadow Road was an aged, white colonial, set back a distance from the road. John pulled up the long driveway and parked his black F-150 behind Todd's Lexus. Walking up to the front door, he noticed the huge garage, set back to the north behind the house. He entered the foyer and stepped into the dining room where Todd was talking to Mr. Boyd. "I am Detective McGrath and this is my partner, Detective Corbin. We will secure, search and evaluate the scene, then come back here to ask you some questions. You two stay with him," Todd said to two uniformed officers. They made their way out of the back door toward the garage. It was an oversized, quadruple bay garage with an addition added to the side and back. As they followed the short path through a thinly wooded area leading up to the side door, they could hear muffled barks coming from inside. Yellow police tape surrounded the building and the path. As John reached the door, the bright Seattle sun had started to filter through the morning clouds. John paused for an instant feeling the joy of the pure, warm rays on his face before he entered. They stepped into a small office containing a desk with a computer and a few small filing cabinets. "Confiscate the computer and extract the files from the cabinets," Todd said.

  John walked up to the door leading into the bay of the garage, took a deep breath, and opened. The scent of wet dog and blood hit him immediately. To the left was a set of small mobile bleachers overlooking a fighting ring surrounded by a three-foot chain link fence. On the cement floor of the ring were pieces of rott
ing flesh and dark stains that looked like blood. At the far side of the ring were a gate and more fencing connecting to another doorway. The barking that they had heard earlier now continued behind that door, which John now headed for. The next room resembled a makeshift kennel, with a line of stalls on the left of a long walkway. The first one, where the barking originated, was occupied by a muscular pit bull with one ear missing and various cuts and scars over its body. The bellowing of the pit bull had now turned into deep, angry growls as John walked by. The next stall contained an animal carcass of what looked like a poodle. Sizable chunks of flesh were missing in its hindquarters and one shoulder was gone. John’s thought was the animal was thrown in there and left to bleed out and die. Blood had puddled under the body. After passing two clean, empty stalls, John stopped at one that startled him. Five or six dead feline bodies were piled up in the middle. Most were just torsos. Detached heads, legs, and tails littered the stall. John felt a queasy lurch in his stomach as he turned away. The final stall contained a golden retriever that looked to be dead, however, when John knelt down to inspect the animal closer, the dog let out a weak whimper and turned its sad, empty eyes up to look at him. As the vet entered the stall to tend to the dog John turned away and spoke into his radio. "Arrest Mr. Boyd. Take him to the station and hold him there until I arrive. I will be handling the interrogation.”

  As John headed out of the garage he thought to himself: God have mercy on the piece of shit responsible for this.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Mr. Boyd is in interrogation room number one," An officer told John when he arrived at the station.

  “Good. Thank you. I'll be right in." These were the instances John found to be the most difficult aspect of his job. Putting emotion aside and concentrating on facts and extracting just the important information from a subject had become more challenging as he aged. Seeing innocence, children and animals, hurt in any way and not losing control of his emotions has increasingly pushed his capabilities to the limit. John headed for the door to the room that contained Peter Boyd. The room was dimly lit with a single naked bulb hanging from the ceiling above an old raw wooden table filled with dents, scratches, and gouges. There was an old wooden chair that Peter Boyd was seated in on the far side of the table and two empty chairs on the opposite side. That was all that the room contained. This was a technique that cops used to display the bleak state of the suspect’s case. Psychologically cripple someone and they are more likely to give you the truth. John sat down across from Mr. Boyd. "We've got you, you son of a bitch. Animal mutilation, animal cruelty, pet theft and I'm guessing illegal gambling. As soon as we decipher what is on that hard drive and what those files contain you could do as much as twenty-five years.”

  John stood up, walked around the room, took a deep breath and exhaled. "Now, Peter, I do not think you are responsible for this. You have no record and you seem like a decent, respectable man. Let’s just say my gut tells me someone else is responsible. Come clean with me now, tell me everything that you know and you may go free. Fuck with me and I will hold you responsible for everything that I can. These crimes are barbaric and someone needs to and will pay for them."

  For the first time, Mr. Boyd looked up from the table and straight at John. "It was my son, Seth. I never went back there. I wasn't allowed to. He would hold sessions back there. I never knew what they were and never asked. Maybe, inside, I didn't want to know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for those animals and their owners."

  John looked him in the eyes. "Peter, where is your son?"

  "I don’t know. We hardly talk. He just comes and goes. I have no idea where he stays, when not at my house."

  "Now Mr. Boyd, I need more than that. Give me something."

  "He drives a 2000 Honda Civic. License plate 048-GXB."

  John quickly jotted the information down. "One more thing," Mr. Boyd declared. "I know he spends quite a bit of time at Emerald Down betting on the ponies."

  "Thank you, Peter, I will now send in an officer to take you home. You are free to go."

  As John walked out of the room an officer came to him and said, "Detective Corbin, the vet says the Golden is going to make it. He's dehydrated, hungry and weak with multiple wounds and cuts, but he has no lethal injuries."

  "Thank you. Contact animal control. Have them cross reference the animals that we found with any reported missing pets. What do we have from the files?"

  "It seems on top of the obvious fighting and gambling ring, Mr. Boyd was selling tickets to watch the pit bull massacre other small animals… cats, chihuahuas and toy breeds."

  John paused to grit his teeth from his frustration with innocent animals being senselessly tortured and mutilated. Todd walked up and asked him, "He give you any info, partner?"

  "I released him. He wasn't responsible, Todd."

  As Todd watched John walk across the station and out the door, a perplexed look came over his face.

  CHAPTER TEN

  At half past six in the morning, John stood in front of the reproduction of Albert Bierstadt's "The Landing of Columbus" that hung in the upstairs foyer, as had been his custom from time to time. He loved the feel of hope and discovery that came over him every time he looked at it, which is why he hung it there, so that it is the first thing his family would see to start their day. The bright, beautiful, super defined landscape the explorers were experiencing gave John an inspired feeling that anything in life is possible. To John, art wasn't just paint on a canvas, notes from an instrument or actors on a stage. Real art made you feel, whether it be happiness, fear, anger, love or sorrow. Real art transformed these feelings through the soul of the art, right through the heart of the aesthete. John could feel the incredible wonder and discovery that the explorers in the party were feeling, just by experiencing this wonderful painting.

  As John made his way to the kitchen his two children came barreling down the stairs. "Good morning. Ready for Breakfast?"

  "Lucky Charms!" screamed Gianna.

  "Cocoa Puffs!" yelled Ryann.

  "Why don’t we settle on Cheerios," John said. He filled two bowls with Cheerios, added almond milk, then poured himself a cup of coffee. As Gianna was shoveling Cheerios in her mouth by the spoonful, she paused, looked at her father and said, "Daddy, I saw the doggie case on the news with Mommy. Why did that man hurt those poor animals?"

  John paused for a moment, put down the coffee he was sipping and looked his daughter in the eyes. "Sweetheart, I’m going to speak to you in a mature way because this is a mature subject and I feel now that you have asked, it needs to be discussed in that manner with both of you." Gianna felt the seriousness of the discussion and stopped eating. "This world is a strange, complicated place. The people that we share it with can be complicated. There are many good people, but there are also many bad people. The hows and whys do not matter. What matters is that you understand that people can be dangerous. There are things in this world that even scare Daddy, but they do for good reason. When around things that frighten you, follow your instincts. Feel and respect your fears. You have only one chance to make a decision for once it’s made, it is gone forever. Always remember that and think before making every single one. Most importantly, I love you and will always be with you, guiding you as best I can. Now finish your breakfast so we can race to the bus stop. Today might just be the day you win."

  Gianna smiled, dug back into her Cheerios, glanced back at her father and said, "But, Dad, I always win!"

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Silas approached the steps to the Redeemer Fellowship Evangelical Church. He paused halfway up to take in the beautiful architecture. The building was white with gold trim, boasting a huge spire that reached into the sky. It resembled a miniature Neuschwanstein Castle. Nothing is too grand for God’s work, Silas thought as he continued up the stairs. He entered the massive front room under the spire and took in the building’s interior. The white and gold color pattern continued, with an enormous golden chandel
ier which hung directly in the center, where the nave met the transept. Huge columns made of gold brick supported the building’s immense ceiling. Silas walked up to the first aisle and took a seat on the bench in the west row. Moments later, a young boy and his mother sat beside him. The boy chomped away on a mouthful of gum, as Silas turned to him, giving him a cold, menacing stare and said, ”Son, we do not chew gum in the house of the lord.”

  The boy took the gum out and moved a bit closer to his mother, as she flashed a nasty glance at Silas.

  The church had filled and the service began. The pastor stepped up to the lectern in front of the chancel. He was a man around the age of sixty, slightly aged, yet still handsome and very distinguished looking with grey, thinning hair. He smiled and his ice blue eyes darted around the church as he began his sermon. His focus was warning the flock to stay on the straight and narrow. They must accept Jesus Christ as their lord and savior and work hard to persuade others to do likewise. “Your job is to believe without question. To push away all doubt and darkness. Your purpose: To glorify God forever.” He continued for 45 minutes, never once reveling in a single, natural mystery. Never expressing any hint of joy or wonderment regarding life on this planet or its accomplishments.