Chapter 19
Red and blue lights flickered atop patrol cars. Splashes of color flashed against the modern designs of the Palm Haven estates—bespoke homes for the uber-wealthy.
The medical examiner’s van was on the scene, along with an ambulance—but it was far too late for that.
A curious crowd had gathered, and Paris Delaney arrived just as we did.
JD and I hopped out and followed the trail of chaos down a narrow path to the beach.
Rows of luxury homes lined the white sand, each one had its own private access point.
Infinity pools and elaborate decks. Barbecue grills and serving stations.
Each home was a resort. An oasis on the water.
But there was nothing idyllic about what happened on this beach.
In the soft sand, above the water line, lay another mutilated body. Ripped to shreds and eviscerated, the grisly sight would turn the stomachs of the uninitiated. It could even make a seasoned pro wince.
Brenda hovered over the body, wearing her pink nitrile gloves, examining the remains. Sheriff Daniels looked on with a grim face. Dietrich snapped photos, the camera flashes bouncing off the white sand. Forensic investigators chronicled the scene.
Paris had followed us down the trail, trying to get as close as possible.
Obsidian waves crashed against the shore, and the nearly full moon glowed overhead, its pale glow casting enough light to see clearly.
The patter of Tango One thumped the air as it circled overhead. It spotted the crime scene with an otherworldly cool white beam that made the victim’s skin look even paler in the absence of blood.
She was another young girl in her mid to late 20s. Sandy-blonde hair, tawny eyes, a petite figure. She had been wearing a sports bra, spandex pants, and jogging shoes. The sports bra had pretty much been shredded. The white garment soaked up the crimson blood.
"What happened?" I asked the sheriff as we stepped to the scene.
"Your werewolf struck again," he said in a sardonic voice that didn't quite hide his frustration. “Either that or it’s a copycat.”
"Same radius on the bite marks on the neck," Brenda said. “Same clean claw marks. This time, it gutted her.”
"What's her name?”
"She had an ID stuck in a pouch on her phone case,” Brenda said. “McKinsey Raine.”
"Who found her?" I asked.
Daniels pointed to a mortified couple in their mid-40s standing nearby. "Homeowners. Heard a scream while they were on their patio. You’ll want to talk to them. I don't think you’ll like what they have to say.”
I stepped to the couple, Elaine and Tommy.
She was a short, frumpy woman in her early 40s with auburn hair and brown eyes.
Tommy was a little older with receding light brown hair that was heading toward gray.
By the looks of things, he hadn’t hit the gym in a long time and had a little belly to show for it.
"Can you tell me what happened?” I asked.
"We were just sitting on the patio, having a glass of wine, enjoying the evening when I heard this bloodcurdling scream," Tommy said.
"I looked at Elaine. It sounded like someone was in distress.
I told her to stay put while I checked it out.
I hustled around the pool and walked down the path to the beach, and that's when I saw it.”
"It?”
“I know this is going to sound absolutely bat shit crazy, but I swear, I haven't had that much to drink. A couple glasses of wine.”
I knew where this was going, and Daniels was right. I wasn't going to like it.
Tommy continued. "It was hunched over her. When it stood up, it was massive. Had to be 8 feet tall.”
"If you say werewolf…”
"I swear to God. I'm not lying. I'm not making it up. I’ve never seen a werewolf before, but this is exactly what I would imagine one to look like. It had wolf-like features but stood like a man. I shit you not, it howled at the moon, then ran off and disappeared into those trees.”
My skeptical gaze persisted.
Tommy raised his hands innocently. "I'm telling you. That's what I saw. Doesn't make any sense to me, but that's what I saw.”
"You smoking anything you shouldn't be?" I asked, half joking.
"I wish. I haven’t been able to find good weed around here in a long…” He realized he probably shouldn't admit that to law enforcement.
If you couldn't find good weed in Coconut Key, you weren’t looking very hard. I almost felt bad for the guy.
"What happened next?"
"I called emergency services. Then you guys showed up maybe 15 minutes later. Just FYI, you need to work on that response time. She was dead by the time I got to her, but just saying.”
"You touched the body?”
Tommy nodded. "I checked her pulse, but she was long gone by the time I got to her. There's no way anybody could survive an attack like that. It was brutal.”
"I need you to get with a sketch artist and describe the creature in as much detail as possible.”
He nodded.
"Did Elaine see the creature?”
"No," he said with a head shake.
I interviewed her as well, and she backed up most of his story, apart from the creature.
You had to be successful to live in a neighborhood like this. It wasn't like Tommy was some vagrant whacked out of his mind on cheap wine and hallucinogens. I didn't think he was lying. But maybe he didn't see what he thought he saw.
It wasn't long before Paris closed in with her news crew to interview him.
JD and I returned to the sheriff.
"Told ya you weren’t going to like it.”
"There's got to be a logical explanation for this. There's no such thing as werewolves."
"I think what we've got is someone taking their Halloween fantasies a little too seriously. Find out who.”
"We’re on it," I said.
JD and I followed the blood trail in the sand.
It moved down the beach and disappeared down the path between some trees that led back up to the street.
We tracked the large pawprints until they disappeared.
There had been too much foot traffic on the trail during the day to make heads or tails out of anything else.
We canvassed the neighborhood, knocking on doors, talking to neighbors, asking if anyone had seen an 8-foot-tall werewolf running through the neighborhood. It felt ridiculous to ask, and the inquiry was met with much skepticism by all.
"What about strange cars?" I asked the woman in the house closest to the trail on which the suspect had fled.
She was in her mid-50s with short auburn hair, brown eyes, and black-framed glasses.
"I don't remember seeing anything unusual."
"You didn't see anybody exit from the trail either?”
She shook her head. "I've just been sitting on the couch all evening watching TV. I was just about to go to bed when you rang the bell.”
"Did you hear any screams?”
She shook her head again. "Can't say that I did.”
I asked to see the footage from her doorbell camera, and she exported that for us, but it hadn't captured anything around the time of the incident. I gave her a card, thanked her for her time, and told her to get in touch if anything else came to light.
We headed back to the Porsche. By that time, investigators had wrapped up at the scene. Brenda had transferred the remains and loaded them into the van.
Paris had gotten her money shot, but as usual, she was still hungry for more. She approached us with her crew, and the camera focused in. A fluffy boom mic hovered overhead.
"Deputy Wild, do you have any leads?”
"We’re asking the community to call the Coconut County Sheriff’s Department if anyone has any additional information.”
"This is the second attack where a witness claims to have seen a werewolf. Are you considering that as a viable possibility?”
"No. We believe there is a perpetrator behind these crimes. And we will find that person.”
"But there are eyewitnesses to the contrary.”
I stepped out of frame, not willing to fuel the speculation any further. We hurried back to the Porsche. Jack muttered, "I think it's time we have a talk with a certain occult studies professor.”