I Am Chosen

The Man Cave

"So you never followed up?"

"Yeah. I never followed up, because... reasons. Like I just said."

Hollis dabbed his mouth with his napkin-bib. "Declan wasn't married. He slept around but had no long-term relationships, his parents were dead... stands to reason that the person who knew him best was probably his assistant. If you want to find out who might have had a motive to steal his body... I'd start there."

Kacey hated to admit it (and there was no way she would admit it, not out loud) but the old goat had a point.

Rhonda White's home was a quaint Victorian set at the end of Dunwich Street in the Pleasant Hills suburbs. The woman herself was in her late thirties, on the pudgy side with dark, curly hair and pale skin.

After introducing themselves, Kacey and Hollis followed Rhonda into a sitting room where they settled into a small couch facing a table and padded chair. To their left a massive bay window offered a view of the street and overcast sky outside. Rhonda had asked if they wanted coffee; Kacey had accepted, Hollis had declined.

Rhonda brought a tray with two mugs, and that was when Kacey noticed her deformity- her left hand was bent severely at the wrist, her pointer finger drawn up, bent at the first knuckle, the other fingers curled under, almost claw-like. Arthritis, maybe? She held the tray with her right hand, with the left side of the tray sitting atop her abnormal left hand. Setting the tray down, she handed Kacey one cup and, taking the other for herself, sat in the chair. Her face held no expression as she waited.

"Are you sure you don't want any coffee?" she asked Hollis.

"I'm sure ma'am, thank you."

"I didn't have a chance to follow up with you after that tip you phoned in," Kacey began.

A fly buzzed around Kacey's head and then landed on the tray. Kacey hated flies. She had hated them before L.A., but since then...

"What can you tell us about any enemies Declan might have had?" Hollis asked.

"Milestone did a great deal of business. Created jobs... Declan did a lot of good for the community," Rhonda said evenly.

Declan may have been liked, but his company, Milestone, had its hand in all sorts of pies. That was bound to ruffle some feathers.

"What about rivals, competition?" Hollis asked.

"To my knowledge Mister Crowe was respected, even by his competitors."

"And what about his friends? Who were his closest friends?" Kacey enquired.

Who might want to get revenge on me for shooting him?

"Despite his good standing, he didn't have many," Rhonda answered. The fly on the tray swooped up, looped around and landed on Rhonda's cheek. The woman seemed not to notice. "Especially in the last few months. He withdrew... there were rumblings, the board of directors weren't happy because all he cared about were the coal mines."

Kacey didn't know much about the history of Pleasant Hills, but she did know that back in the 1800s, when the town was first established, a series of coal mines were dug beneath it, expanding out in all directions. In the ensuing years, the city grew over top of the tunnels. It was why every once in a while a sink hole would open up and swallow a house or car.

"What made you finger him as a suspect?" Hollis asked. Rhonda was quiet. Another fly drifted lazily into the room and landed on the couch arm right next to Kacey. She shooed it away.

The fly on Rhonda wandered up her cheek, then across her nose to the other side. "He was behaving strangely..." Rhonda said finally. "And I knew, knew that he had talked to some of those people who did those terrible things... invited them into his office..." Rhonda's speech had slowed. She fell quiet. Kacey and Hollis waited for her to continue.

"You were saying?" Hollis prompted.

Rhonda's voice was flat as she said "Are you sure you don't want any coffee?"

Hollis and Kacey shared a look.

"Do you mind if I refill my cup?" Kacey asked.

"Of course," Rhonda replied.

Kacey looked over to Hollis, who nodded slightly. She got up, taking her cup with her, and walked through a dining area to the small kitchen. There were a few more flies in here, buzzing around the sink and the windows that looked out on the rear of the property. There was a door next to the fridge, directly across from where Kacey was standing. As she watched, a fly crawled under the door from the other side into the kitchen.

Quickly placing her cup on the kitchen counter, Kacey withdrew her service weapon, crept to the door and opened it...

Revealing a long, dim hallway. Here, more flies buzzed noisily. Kacey waved them away from her face and stopped, taking a moment to calm herself. She tried not to think of L.A., of the gallery... then as she drew in a deep breath, an all-too familiar smell crept into her nasal passages:

Decomp.

Unwelcome memories threatened to come flooding back but Kacey pushed them away.

You can do this.

Eyes watering, Kacey forced herself to continue down the hall toward a closed door. A couple flies crawled into the hall from underneath. Kacey reached out and turned the knob with her left hand, gun held at shoulder height in her right.

The space beyond was dark, with a faint bluish tint. Stairs led down into the neon gloom. A small cloud of flies blew past as Kacey stepped lightly onto the concrete steps, descending to a single turn and then... to a large room. All the while Kacey fought against retching in reaction to the nauseous stench.

There was a couch facing an old big screen TV. Flies crawled over its blue screen, which washed everything around in a hazy aqua glow. Next to the couch was a small table with a few beer cans. Near the foot of the stairs was a small pool table. On the walls Kacey could barely make out a dart board, pictures of old cars and 80s action movie posters-Desperado, Terminator, Commando. Further against the back wall was a shelf lined with DVDs.

This was a man cave.

Moving carefully around the pool table, Kacey angled for a look at the couch. A male figure was slumped there, shirtless, head resting back, arms slack at his sides, a beer can in his left hand. Much of the outer layer of his skin was simply gone. The underlying tissue and muscle was dark in many places. Flies busied themselves around the rotting remains, but most especially around the man's eyes, which were now just ragged holes.

Projecting from these orifices were objects which Kacey couldn't identify at first. As she pulled near, however, it became clear...

They were the handles of steak knives.

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Yes, I actually own that Desperado poster. Loved the movie. Hope you enjoyed the latest chapter of I Am Chosen. Next one's up in one week! If you're diggin' it, remember to vote! Thank you!!!