The sequel to Wonderland Murders and Suburban Legends!
Amanda Delacroix flinched slightly when a brief flash of white light sneaked through the gaps in the blinds followed by a loud rumble. The storm had finally reached them. She shook off her fear with a smile as she wavered in the hallway at the heavy mahogany door that led into the living room. Amanda's daughter Madison was having a sleepover and at the moment she and six other girls were behind the mahogany door in the living room and the conservatory probably having a good giggle at the storm and exchanging bad ghost stories. Deciding that her daughter probably wouldn't appreciate a disturbance, Amanda turned from the door.
The forty-year-old headed down the corridor and to the right, moving through her large house towards the kitchen. She decided the best thing to do would be to check the back door and the front door, and then head upstairs to a movie and bed. She shook her head scornfully when another rumble sounded out, closer again and longer too, she was certain the wretched storm was right above her house.
"I hope the frigging electric doesn't go out," she grumbled to herself as she reached the glass door to the kitchen. She jumped and let out a curse as the lightning flashed again and she made out a disturbing silhouette. She flicked out the light in haste and let out a nervous giggle as she realised what had looked like a person was in fact just one of the stools with an ill placed coat hanging off it. "Idiot," she chided herself as she stepped onto the blue tiles and hurried to the patio doors. She frowned seeing the back light on, well it was windy out there, the stupid sensors had probably just been triggered by something in the storm, or an animal. She pressed her face against the glass and looked out anyway, just in case.
The pool was frothing noisily as the wind churned up some ripples and the rain beat off it angrily. One of the deckchairs was on its side, yep that was probably what had triggered the light, and the grass was already soaked and threatening to turn muddy.
There was a low creak and suddenly every hair stood upright on Amanda's skin as she clenched the door handle of the patio door tightly. Turn and look, or press down the handle and flee? She tensed and dared to glance over her shoulder and look. "Smokey!" she chided her cat with a smile of relief.
The grey Burmese looked up at her with questioning yellow eyes before the feline pushed at the door again and slinked into the kitchen with a purr.
"You're not getting out," she warned before she tugged down the handle, locked. "And apparently I already locked this door and wasn't going to be making a quick getaway," she grumbled. She then flicked off the outside light; certain it would only keep her up, and then drew the curtains.
The cat gave a meow, loud and demanding, prompting the woman to place her hands on her hips and frown mockingly in response. "Alright, alright, catnip, I get it," Amanda murmured as she threw her hands out in despair before heading to the cat's ceramic dish. She picked it up and moved into the utility room, flicking on the light in there and grabbing a box of cat biscuits from one of the shelves. She filled the bowl, hit off the light, exited the room, and placed the dish back down on the mat in the kitchen.
"Tuck in you greedy thing," Amanda advised her cat as it brushed up against her right leg with a satisfied purr. She pushed back a strand of thin, golden blonde hair and headed out of the kitchen, turning off the light as she did.
Back down through the hall, past the living room door, and then left to the front of the house. She paused suddenly as the lightning flashed once more as she spied another silhouette ahead. She guessed this one was the coat hanger as her fingers reached for the light switch. Her fingertips missed as another rumble of thunder sounded ominously overhead. The silhouette moved, turning its shadowy form in her direction.
In the living room of the Delacroix household seven girls who should have been watching bad movies and exchanging high school gossip were instead playing a very dangerous game. They sat at a round, polished, walnut table beneath a gold and crystal chandelier on walnut seats with blood red cushions. Hostess Madison sat at the north, her back to the unlit conservatory, green eyes burning with mischief and a wicked smile on her fair face, to her right was equally blonde and beautiful Tiffany Grayson, and to her left was Selena Ortega. Directly opposite Madison was the copper haired Georgia Blackwood and on either side of Georgia were the dark haired twins Melinda and Jennifer Valdez. Finally, Holly Corbeau sat between Melinda and Tiffany, glancing uncomfortably towards the television, which was on but muted.
In the centre of the table was something all the girls had heard of but never seen tonight, something Madison had introduced as a 'fun game'. It was an Ouija board, made of wood with large, intricately inked letters in black, and a magnifying glass in a black triangular piece. The framework looked old and expensive with carvings of the watchful eye, and Holly fully suspected that Madison had not just stumbled across this 'game' by chance.
"It's just a bit of fun," Madison insisted as she lifted her champagne flute and twirled it about in her left hand carelessly. She had opened the wooden globe of expensive glasses and drinks half an hour ago, insisting her mother would never know and that it would liven up the party. Several glasses and two opened bottles of champagne also sat on the table along with a bowl of chips; it dampened the creepy image of the Ouija board enough for Melinda to forgo any fear, grin and shrug.
"It's bullshit," Tiffany stated bluntly.
There was a flash of lightning and a rumble above causing the girls to go into a minor hysteria of laughter.
"It is a great night for it," Selena remarked with more enthusiasm.
"Oh come on," Tiffany complained between gulps of champagne, "we all know it's not a demon, it's the people operating the stupid thing."
"It could still be fun," Selena mused. "Alright, I'm game."
"I don't know," Holly said with a nervous glance to the dark conservatory. She could hear the rain beating against its glass walls but she couldn't see anything and it made her anxious to have the unlit room so near.
"Don't be a coward," Madison chided with a taunting stare. "Let's have one game, everyone, hands on the glass."
"Don't we need candles or something?" Jennifer quipped with a smirk.
"Like the storm isn't atmosphere enough," Selena retorted sardonically.
The girls burst into laughter again when there was another flash of lightning and a loud rumble.
"Okay," Jennifer gave in as she placed the edge of the fingers on her right hand down first. "One game."
The girls all leaned forward to touch the edges of the triangle except Holly. "Everyone Holly," Madison ordered with a cool stare, "don't be a baby."
Holly sighed before she moved, better get over and done with then.
"So how does this work anyway?" Tiffany queried with a bored stare. "How do we summon it?"
Holly let out a squeal when the piece started to move.
The other girls laughed. "I," Selena called out excitedly. "A, M," the piece moved rapidly, "A, L, R, E, shit guys, someone should be writing this!"
"A, D, Y," Georgia continued with an astute stare, "H, E, R, E."
"Wait, what?" Selena queried with an intrigued look.
Tiffany yawned dramatically. "Bullshit," she repeated.
"I am already here," Georgia spelled out the letters.
Holly turned white as Jennifer murmured sardonically, "well that saves time. Hey Madison did you know your living room was haunted or possessed? Is this for ghosts or demons?"
Madison gave a hungry grin as she leaned closer to the board. "Why are you already here?" she queried curiously.
"T," all the girls except Holly and Tiffany started calling out the letters as the glass moved, "O, K, I, L, L."
"Stop it you guys!" Holly protested as her eyes went wide and she started to quiver. "This isn't funny."
"D, I, E." The glass suddenly started moving over the three letters repetitively.
The chandelier let out a loud crack as the power failed and the room was plunged into darkness. Everyone screamed and tried to flee from the table.
It was Holly who looked to the conservatory as the lightning flashed. She felt her legs turn damp as she saw several eerie faces pressed against the glass in that one brief moment. The girl let out a bloodcurdling scream as she heard the glass break.
Detective Ridley Moon glanced at the body in the hall with a grimace. Normally she wasn't squeamish having witnessed and experienced firsthand most if not all of the horrors the world could dish out but with a baby gradually growing within her she didn't always seem to have control of her guts anymore. She was dressed casually for her, flat shoes, which she had endured relentless teasing about for the past month, a loose, white shirt and grey trousers with a matching jacket that was currently in the car.
"I thought this was a robbery gone wrong," her partner, Detective Angelo Sanchez, said bitingly as he looked at the brown haired policeman accusingly.
The uniform shrugged. "Rich residents, maid found the body and called the police, we came and it looked like things had been stolen. It gets worse in the living room apparently."
"Apparently?" Ridley quipped, earning an extra glance from the uniform as her thick New Yorker's accent slipped out. She glanced up from her camera to look at the police officer curiously. "What does that mean?"
"I don't know, I haven't been in there," he confessed.
Ridley and Angelo exchanged a look. Angelo tugged off his brown hat and sighed with a shake of his head. "This is meant to be a simple homicide case," he grumbled. "Sorry Ridley."
"It's okay," she murmured, "it's my last one anyway, remember?"
He gave a small smile and nodded before placing his hat back on, hiding his neatly clipped sable hair. "Yeah, then it's desk work, I'm going to miss you."
Ridley smiled back before taking a couple more shots of the body. Amanda Delacroix a wealthy, divorced homeowner lay in a bloody mess on the bottom of her staircase. There was a lot of dried blood pooled beneath her, staining the peach carpet an ugly brown but it was difficult to tell what had actually killed her. Everything about the body's positioning suggested she had been cut down while trying to flee upstairs.
"Should we investigate the living room then?" Angelo queried as he looked at his partner with a glimmer of excitement in his green eyes. "Before the CSIs come and have all the fun."
"Sure thing," Ridley murmured with less eagerness in her voice.
"Down the hall to the right," the policeman advised as he pointed.
Ridley and Angelo headed down the hall and right to another hall, which had two policemen standing up ahead at an open doorway. "Living room I'm guessing," Ridley murmured as they moved forward.
One policeman, stern faced and grey haired, looked at them sharply, anger blazing in his blue eyes. "You the detectives?" he barked at them.
Ridley and Angelo nodded in answer. "Detective Sanchez and Moon," Angelo introduced.
"I'm Officer Brooks. Twenty-five years I've been on the force," he informed them bluntly, "and I've never seen anything like what's in there. It's beyond understanding."
Ridley nodded again as she burned with curiosity and just a flicker of caution. To her a lot of things were beyond understanding and after all she had gone through she found it quite believable that people were capable of anything no matter how shocking and dark it might seem.
Ridley stepped into the room first and filled with momentary confusion as she took in the scene. "Robbery gone wrong huh?" she queried dryly as she finally found her voice after a moment of stunned silence.
Seven bodies, all girls, and all sitting around a table, their faces down and one hand pressed against a circular glass piece in a black triangle. Drip, drip, drip. Ridley's eyes hardened as she realised that was the sound of blood dripping, from one girl's limp hand and another's leg. Drip, drip, drip, it was a horrid, repetitive sound as the tiny, telltale blood drops fell onto the wooden floor.
"We've only positively identified one," a pallid faced policeman informed the detectives as he stepped up to them. "The blonde with her back to the conservatory, Madison Delacroix, the rest are her friends but we haven't got names yet. Maid says she was having a sleepover."
"And summoning the dead is what you do at a sleepover?" Ridley queried in disbelief as she took a step towards the table and suppressed a shudder. There were several bloodstains on the floor along with pentagrams and quotes in Latin that she couldn't decipher, all painted in blood. One of the glass conservatory doors had been smashed, paintings were missing, ornaments had been broken, and the television screen was cracked. Nail marks on the table, and on the wall as well as blood spatters against the cream wallpaper and on the door suggested a struggle. "They didn't die at that table," Ridley commented coldly.
"Eight bodies," Detective Sanchez remarked angrily as he glowered at the officers, "why the hell did no one say? One homicide in a suspected robbery, does this look like a robbery?! Does it?!"
The male officer who had addressed them shook his head nervously and took a step back.
Ridley sighed as she suppressed a twinge of nausea. This wasn't exactly the kind of case she wanted to finish on. "Let's...let's look around," she murmured wearily.
It was just thirty minutes later that Miami's crime scene investigators arrived to process the scene, and they were only slightly better informed about the crime than the detectives. For so many bodies Lieutenant Horatio Caine had decided to bring his whole team though it was tight given their schedules for the day.
Whilst the medical examiner Dr. Alexx Woods set up base in the hall to study the first body alongside fingerprint expert Eric Delko and his girlfriend, ballistics specialist Calleigh Duquesne, Lieutenant Caine continued on into the living room alongside traces expert Tim Speedle.
Tim struggled over the scene when they entered the living room, his mind unsure what to process first. Ridley's grey-brown eyes widened just a little as she saw the rage begin to dance in his brown eyes; she knew exactly what he was getting angry about. Tim was her boyfriend and ever since discovering she was pregnant just two months ago he had become determined to see her safely away from the madness of Miami's bloody crime scenes and into a desk job.
Tim knew it seemed like he was putting down Ridley's own ability to protect herself but that wasn't it, it was just that she had become too heavily linked in weird cases, and though she didn't know it, it was that very link that had led to her own kidnapping and torture by a psychopath, and Tim didn't ever want to risk a repeat of that. As far as he was concerned if Ridley was out of the weird then she was safe.
"Ridley what the hell are you doing here?" Tim demanded. "This is not a typical homicide!" He turned from her to her partner with an accusing stare. "Sanchez she's going to admin, what the fuck were you were thinking bringing her here?"
"Language Speed," Horatio chided as he surveyed the scene with more calm than anyone else had. Six feet tall with skin unusually fair for Miami and a crop of golden auburn hair, the lieutenant was a hard man to miss, a fact he found highly advantageous in his position as lieutenant.
Angelo held up his hands in mock defence. "I'm sorry Speedle," he said sincerely, "they told us it was a robbery gone wrong, one body, that's all we knew. We wouldn't have taken the case otherwise."
"It's true Tim," Ridley said as she stepped forward and gave him a calming stare.
Tim sighed angrily and shook his head. "Ridley this stinks of weird shit," he grumbled, "it's the last thing you need."
"And it's the last thing I'll be doing," she reminded him with a reassuring look. "I'm at the desk from tomorrow onwards."
"You should be there already," the dark haired man complained as he continued to frown.
She nodded as her gaze turned tender and retorted softly, "I know but we've no staff." She left it unspoken the reason for that. Just a few months ago she, Calleigh, Eric and Detective Yelina Salas had become caught up with the cartel in Miami. It had been a messy and tragic business which had led to Ridley being taken to Vegas on a case with Horatio and Tim to get her away from Miami, and Calleigh, Eric and Yelina being ambushed at a cafe when trying to get a key witness out of the city. Yelina had been shot there and later succumbed to blood poisoning leaving her son, Horatio's nephew, an orphan. She had died shortly after a bloody assault on the beach by the SWAT with Calleigh and Eric that had seen several officers and Eric taken to hospital with serious injuries. After all that drama a lot of officers had moved on to something less dangerous and applications for the force were less than usual. It didn't help that the budgets had been slashed yet again.
Tim turned to Detective Sanchez with another glower and snarled, "a word in the hall Sanchez."
"Tim it's not his fault," Ridley protested.
"I know," Tim grunted, "but I'd still like a word."
"It's okay," Angelo retorted before he headed towards the living room doorway.
Tim followed after him and then led the way up the corridor, putting a bit of distance between them and the waiting officers. "I don't want her name linked to this Sanchez," Tim addressed the detective sternly. He tried to look fierce but he couldn't keep his worry from his brown eyes.
"Me either Speedle," Angelo answered calmly, "and if I could keep her name out of it I would."
"I know," Tim grumbled, "just...you be the lead detective, okay?"
Angelo nodded reassuringly. "I will, my name will be first on all the paperwork and I'll only mention her when necessary. Look, I really am sorry about this, I had no freaking idea there were seven dead kids, and with an Ouija board of all things, the press will go nuts."
"That's the problem," Tim grumbled. "Detective Moon investigating weird shit all over again...it makes them dredge up all the old stuff and she doesn't need that again."
"It won't come to that Speedle," Angelo insisted. "She's going to a desk job tomorrow, it will be okay, I'll lead the case and they will assign someone else to work on it with me."
"Right, thanks," Tim grumbled before he led the way back into the living room.
"Everything sorted Speed?" Horatio queried lightly.
"Yes H," Tim assured.
"Good, let's start processing the scene then, it's going to be a long day," the redhead murmured.
Detectives Moon and Sanchez remained for another hour before finally leaving the CSIs with their work. The scene made everyone uneasy, the setting of a game designed to contact the dead was just creepy and seven murdered teenagers was horribly tragic. Even when the blood finally stopped dripping that didn't help as it just resulted in an eerie silence.
Six-thirty, Tim Speedle didn't think he had ever been so glad to see the end of a day. It was just a pity it was only going to be the start of a long night. Today was moving day after all. He sat on one of his sloppily packed boxes, tugged out a cigarette, lit it and then looked over at his motorbike with a frown. All of his pleasures right here in one moment, soon to be banished. No more bachelor pad, it was ridiculous thinking he wouldn't live with Ridley when she had his baby so the house had to go, no more cigarettes, that would be completely irresponsible around the baby, and no more motorbike because how could one transport a baby on that?
Eric, Calleigh, Horatio, Raymond Junior, and Ridley were all inside helping him pack up and move to his and Ridley's new home. Since Ridley had only been renting it seemed logical enough for them to buy a house together. A logical step, a hard, stressful and life changing step, one Tim hadn't expected to make for at least another four or five years but the baby was coming and that was it. Sure there was another seven months to go but suddenly that didn't really seem all that far away.
He hunched forward slightly, cigarette limp in his left hand as he continued staring at his shiny, black bike. He hadn't even had the thing long, Ridley cheerfully called it 'a death machine', Eric jested that it was a sign of a breakdown, and Horatio had sadly hit home by commenting that someday he would need something with doors. Speed had thought he would have plenty of time for that, plenty of time before getting a car again, plenty of time before taking his relationship with Ridley to the next level by moving in with her, and plenty of time before he even had to think about parenthood.
Ridley stepped out onto the driveway quietly and spotted Tim sitting on a box hunched over and looking at his bike glumly. She filled with guilt; ever since she had entered his life she had turned it upside down. First involving him and the others in a case that had seen her best friend murdered, and herself and Eric tortured. Then entering an on and off relationship with the traces expert that had started dubiously enough with her using him out of fear, and then seen her freezing him out because of her issues over the torture she had suffered, and unfairly denying him a normal relationship. Then, after dealing with Tim getting shot, his own drama and feelings of inadequacy and guilt, and the admission of his questionable past with a married co-worker, another serial killer and drama in both Miami and Vegas they had finally seemed to make progress only for things to get flipped again with Ridley's news that she was pregnant. She knew it wasn't entirely her fault, Tim took just as much responsibility and yet she still felt bad about the scenario.
The detective's heart sank as she watched him, everything had to change, and sometimes it felt like the change just wouldn't stop. He was losing his home, his solitude and his peace; yes so was she but then Ridley had always had issues with solitude whilst Tim had definitely embraced it. If anyone enjoyed the bachelor's life it was Tim.
She finally approached him, her footsteps barely audible on the concrete. "You can keep the bike you know," she said softly.
Tim turned up to her with a warm glance; of course he had heard her approaching. "No I can't," he murmured, "but it's okay."
"No Tim, keep the bike," she insisted, "we can share my car."
Tim's brown eyes widened at this. "Really? Share your car," he remarked dubiously, "you sure about that? You love that car and you hate my driving, and the bike," he reminded her.
"I'm sure," she insisted with a small smile, "you've already made a lot of sacrifices over...this," she finished awkwardly as she glanced down at the barely there bump in her stomach, "don't make anymore."
Tim dropped his cigarette, stood up and stubbed it out with his right shoe before stepping up to Ridley and hugging her close. "I'm moving in with you," he murmured as he nuzzled into her dark hair, "that is not a sacrifice Ridley, it's a good thing. Now come on, let's go inside before Speedbump gets cold."
Ridley smiled at the nickname even as she shook her head. "I'm still not okay with calling them that."
"Well we don't know what it is yet," Tim reminded her as he wrapped an arm over her shoulders and led her back towards the open front door, "and we can't call it...it, just seems impersonal."
"Still, Speedbump, really?" Ridley retorted doubtfully.
"Speedle take two? Speedle junior?" Tim suggested teasingly as they stepped into the hall.
"No and no," Ridley answered flatly as she turned into the now almost bare living room in time to catch Eric and Calleigh in a compromising embrace.
"In my living room again," Tim remarked loudly and sardonically with an unimpressed stare. "Hmm might be good to get a new couch," he murmured as he looked at Ridley, "and get away from the taint."
"Hey!" Eric protested with a laugh even as Calleigh flustered to compose herself with a blush. "It will make for a good story."
"Oh I can imagine," Tim murmured with a roll of his eyes, "here Speedle squared, this was once a beautiful couch until daddy's co-workers soiled it."
"Speedle squared?" Calleigh echoed with a questioning look as she swept her now messy hair up into a loose ponytail.
"Co-workers?" Eric repeated with a frown. "I think you mean Uncle Eric and Aunt Calleigh."
"You know I do have a brother," Tim reminded him dryly.
"Alright, favourite Uncle Eric," Eric corrected as his grin widened. "Come on, you should be nicer to us, pretty soon you will be pleading for us to babysit."
"Oh I can't wait for that!" the blonde cried out as she clapped her hands together ecstatically. "If it's a girl I can braid her hair and talk about ponies."
"Ponies, on my salary," Tim retorted with a wilting stare, "and guess who's not minding the baby without supervision."
"Um Calleigh I think it's nappy changing and bottle feeding before braiding hair and ponies," Eric reminded her teasingly even as he smiled at her and embraced her loosely around the waist with one hand.
Ridley smiled even as she paled. 'Braid her hair,' she thought numbly, 'wow I just keep thinking of having a baby not having a child, with all that to go through, nappy changing, bottle feeding, school, and clothes and hair, and ponies.' She suddenly felt dizzy as a cold sweat beaded at her brow.
"You okay Ridley?" Eric queried with a worried glance. "Speedbump alright?"
"I'm fine," she assured as she waved her left hand loosely, "just tired I think."
Tim gripped her hand and said, "come on to the kitchen, there are still seats there."
"And the kettle," Calleigh enthused, "I'll make you some tea."
"It's alright," Ridley protested even as Tim turned her to the living room doorway and started leading her up the corridor.
In the kitchen they found Horatio sealing up another box with Raymond Junior who was wrapping up glasses in newspaper. Raymond Junior was Horatio's ten-year-old nephew, the son of his later brother Raymond and the late Yelina Salas. Ordinarily Raymond probably would have complained of boredom and not bothered helping but Tim was Raymond's favourite person, probably because, as Eric often joked, Tim was wholly irresponsible and let Raymond do whatever he wanted when he had the misfortune to mind him.
Horatio paused and looked at the four with a small smile as Calleigh hurried to the kettle. "Another break?" he queried wryly. "Has anyone apart from me done any packing?"
"Well I did try to pack a lamp but after it broke Speed said I could only observe," Eric pointed out.
"It was a good lamp," Tim grumbled as he gave his friend a disapproving glower.
"I believe you broke the television," Eric reminded him. "Honestly, you're so clumsy Speed; I don't think Ridley should let you carry Speedbump for a few months, not unless they're in a layer of bubble wrap."
Ridley giggled even as Tim's scowl deepened. "He'll be fine," Ridley assured as she sat on one of the black swivel stools. She frowned as her legs dangled in the air with no bar to rest her feet on as it had long since been broken off and discarded. "These aren't coming," she murmured.
"As long as you got rid of that creepy bunny clock," Tim retorted as he leaned against the breakfast bar.
"Creepy bunny clock?" Eric queried with an intrigued look.
"It always watches you," Tim answered cryptically as he folded his arms.
"That's just the mechanics," Ridley chided. She looked at Eric and explained, "the eyes move with the pendulum."
"And the ears, the thing is possessed," Tim grumbled.
"The ears perk up every hour," Ridley alluded.
"Hmm an evil bunny entity, I like it," Eric enthused.
"Well you can have it," Tim muttered.
Calleigh presented Ridley with a cup of black, sugary tea before giving an apologetic smile. "Sorry, there's no milk or coffee."
"That's okay, thanks," Ridley retorted with a grin as she accepted the cup.
"Well, last time in here I suppose," Tim murmured wistfully as he glanced about the almost empty kitchen.
Ridley gripped his right hand with her left and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"It will be good to get away from the smell," Eric commented cheerfully.
They talked for a few more minutes until the moving van arrived for the last of Tim's possessions. Tim watched it go with a wistful look as Calleigh and Horatio bundled the remaining items into their cars. As they all stood in the driveway Ridley opened her handbag and tugged out a small, red camera. "Let's get a photo," she suggested to Tim, "one last moment with your house." She moved to take the photo but Tim gripped her hand and held her back.
"I want you and Speedbump in the photo," he said with a smile, "then I can look at the photo and remind myself that it's just a house and all that matters are you two."
Ridley smiled back as Calleigh made an 'aww' sound and enthused, "for you Speed that's downright adorable." She took the camera from Ridley, switched it on and stepped back up the drive so that the house was fully in view. "Alright, smile guys you're moving in together!"
Well I said I was thinking about it, truthfully for a while. After I decided to do a sequel to Suburban Legends I imagined a trilogy, it just seemed fitting. Anyway, I hope to do more on Eric and Calleigh's relationship, and delve a bit more into everyone's pasts. I also plan to have some more of the show brought into this fic i.e characters etc.
As always please read and review!