Body Count Read online

  Body Count

  By Catrina Calloway

  Resplendence Publishing, LLC

  http://www.resplendencepublishing.com

  Resplendence Publishing, LLC

  P.O. Box 992

  Edgewater, Florida, 32132

  Body Count

  Copyright © 2009, Catrina Calloway

  Edited by Jessica Berry

  Cover art by Rika Singh

  Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-075-0

  Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringements, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Electronic release: October 2009

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Dr. Marta Phillips squatted next to the body lying on the ground. Lifting the corpse’s foot, she gently placed it in the palm of her hand. Using a scalpel, she cut away the dead man’s small toe, placing it in a plastic bag.

  “A couple of things happen when a body starts to decompose, James.” She glanced at the young forensic student standing off to the side. He looked pale. “When someone dies, certain enzymes in the digestive system, receiving no sustenance, begin literally ‘eating’ a person. Tissue liquefies and you have what’s known as putrefaction.”

  James turned away when she held up the bag containing the corpse’s toe.

  Then he threw up in the bushes nearby.

  Marta rolled her eyes. “Make sure he’s okay,” she told one of the other students. Rising to her feet, she muttered, “God save me from over-eager young pups addicted to TV crime shows.”

  She put the bag containing the sample of human remains in a cooler then continued her lecture. “Respect the dead, and they’ll in turn, reveal secrets to you that will be useful in solving crimes.”

  James turned around, wiping his mouth with a napkin. She nodded in his direction, pleased that he chose to stay.

  “We have our work cut out for us today.” She pointed at the two new bodies lying on the ground. “We need to catalog these cadavers, get tissue samples, take photos and place them in the open field beyond the farm, where they will decompose naturally. Then we can study them.” She pointed at two young women. “Susan and Leila will take the photos and begin cataloging. We need to tag this corpse. James and Michael,” she angled her head, “will take blood samples and some more tissue samples.”

  James managed a nod.

  “I want to show you something.” She knelt by the body again and carefully turned the cadaver on its belly. “Look at the blood pooling on his back. That’s a sign that decomposition is already starting.” She rose to her feet again. “We’ll practice determining this man’s time of death by the evidence we see now, so let’s get started with our preliminary work.”

  She noticed two of the other students standing off to the side, whispering, notebooks in their hands bearing the Long Island College of Forensic Studies logo. One girl kept shaking her head, her face drawn in tight lines. The other opened her notebook, jabbing her finger into the open page.

  “I’ll be right back.” Marta told her students. You all get started on your assignment.”

  She walked over to the two young women. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Susan and I went out into the field and counted the bodies.”

  Marta raised a brow. “And?”

  “We did it three times, and we only counted twenty bodies.”

  Marta blew out a breath. “You’re sure?”

  The other girl nodded. “We’re positive.”

  Marta’s heart raced. It was the second time in the past two months that bodies were missing.

  “All right, make sure you log that in your notes.”

  Susan shook her head. “Who could possibly want these bodies?”

  Marta shrugged. “Someone who wants the organs. There’s a huge black market for that. She placed a finger against her jaw, furrowing her brow. “But I can’t imagine why anyone would want those organs, after the body starts decomposing. It just doesn’t make sense.”

  Marta walked away, her jaw set and her mind filled with determination—and worry. If she didn’t find the corpse thief, Dr. Timothy Clayton, Long Island College’s president, would shut down her body farm. She was fast becoming the laughing stock of LIC’s faculty. Her colleagues gave her the name, ‘Misplaced Marta,’ sneering behind her back each time they got word that another cadaver disappeared from the body farm.

  “Dr. Phillips, are we still going to do the memorial service tonight?”

  She glanced at James. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she replied. “Yes, we are. The deceased were once living, breathing human beings with hopes, dreams, and thoughts. We owe it to them to commemorate the gift they’ve given the science of forensics.”

  He nodded. “I’m glad we are. I’ll be there.” He gazed at his fellow students. “So will everyone else.”

  “Good. Now, get back to work. I’m pleased you decided to stay, James.”

  He shrugged. “I always said I wanted to be a forensic scientist, I just didn’t think it would be so…”

  She raised a brow. “Gruesome? Horrible?” Marta shook her head. “Think of what you’re doing for science, for humanity. We’ve solved many difficult crimes with the discoveries we make here.”

  He smiled. “I-I’ll try to remember that.”

  James walked away.

  But not before Marta saw his face.

  He still looked too damned pale.

  * * * *

  Day turned to dusk as Marta, her students, and a handful of others, stood near the entrance to the open field where the decomposing bodies rested. The autumn sun sank in the sky, a fiery orange ball lowering on the horizon as Marta spoke.

  “…and so we commemorate these people who have given their bodies over to our cause. Once they walked the earth—their lives filled with hopes, dreams, and promises. We thank them, and guard them,” she took a deep breath, “and honor their memory and gift of their bodies.”

  Some people in the crowd nodded, others murmured ‘amen.’

  Marta swallowed hard against the emotion welling inside her.

  Who took the bodies and why?

  She’d said she would guard them…

  Some goddamned protector she turned out to be!

  At the conclusion of the service, the crowd dispersed.

  Susan walked beside Marta as they made their way back to the lab set up in the old farmhouse.

  “Are you going to the Halloween party tonight, Dr. Phillips?”

  Marta shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’ve got some work to finish up in the lab.”

  Susan grabbed Marta’s hand. “You’re worried about the bodies, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t want to see the body farm shut down.”

  Susan gave Marta’s hand a squeeze then released her. “What do the police say?”

  Marta sighed. “Not a whole lot, I’m afraid. So far, they haven’t come up with any leads.”

  At the entrance to the lab, Marta said, “You go and have a good time. I’ll see all of you back here tomorrow.”

  Susan gave her a small smile. “All right, Dr. Phillips. Good night and…Happy Halloween.”

  “Same to yo
u,” Marta replied, her voice soft.

  She unlocked the front door and entered the lab. All was quiet.

  After hanging her jacket on the coat rack, Marta walked into her office and shut the door.

  Damn but there had to be something she could do!

  She sat down in a chair behind her desk, leaning forward, placing her arms on top of the desk. Her head pillowed on her arms she thought…and thought…

  Her eyes opened wide.

  Marta sprang up from the chair and sailed out the door.

  Entering a small room off the kitchen, she stopped in front of the gun case filled with hunting rifles left there by the former owners.

  Marta opened the case, and reached inside for a rifle. She’d spent her childhood living on a farm in upstate New York, and learned how to use a rifle early on.

  Marta filled the rifle cartridge with bullets and snapped it closed.

  Gun in-hand, she walked out of the room. She stopped for a few seconds in the hallway and grabbed her jacket, then flew out the door and down the steps, heading toward the open field and the bodies.

  The police may not have answers as to why her corpses had gone missing, but Marta wouldn’t leave that field until she did.

  * * * *

  “Le condamner! Will you finish already? We don’t have all night, Hugh.”

  Maximillian Effroi’s eyes darted over the open field, fear clogging his throat. His cousin, Hugh, glanced upwards, his dark eyes bright, their red centers glowing. Blood dripped down his chin, landing on the snow-white shirt visible beneath his long, leather coat. He shuddered, closing his eyes, tipping his head back while blood trickled down his throat.

  Maximillian growled low, hauling Hugh to his feet. “We will get caught if you don’t stop now,” he urged, his upper teeth connecting with the two pointy incisors in his lower jaw. They receded, their sharp points visible at the top of his gums.

  Hugh swayed, his eyes rolling back in his head.

  “Enfer! What is wrong with you?” Maximillian gripped Hugh’s shoulders, giving them a shake.

  “Desole, cousin, but I am so weak.”

  Maximillian could barely hear him. Grabbing Hugh’s arm he led him onto the side of the road, where they trekked back to the old gristmill on the other side of the farm.

  “One body—one is all we can have, Hugh. Why must you have two?”

  Hugh gave him a lopsided smile. “I am hungrier lately. Must be all that jogging in the morning.”

  Maximillian grunted, supporting Hugh’s weight as they marched down the road, the only light coming from the full moon above.

  “We do all that jogging and whatever else we have to do,” Maximillian waved a hand through the air, “so we will fit in.”

  Hugh swayed. Maximillian caught him and pushed him forward.

  “Easy, man. Stay on your feet, only a little further.”

  “Everyone in this country is…how you say…?”

  “Nuts?”

  Hugh's lips lifted in a lopsided smile. “Exactly. They move too fast; they must learn to slow down.”

  Maximillian shook his head. “It is not our job to teach them anything. Our job is to blend in and stay as far in the background as possible.”

  Hugh released a sigh. “I am sick and tired of hiding, of this life.”

  “You think I’m not?” Maximillian raised a brow, wincing when several twigs snapped beneath his booted feet. He had hoped to be quiet, but the autumn leaves and stray branches made that impossible.

  “I must sit, cousin.” Hugh made his way through the trees and found a log. Easing his tall frame onto it, he said. “I-I don’t feel well.”

  “It is because you drank too much blood tonight! You are too full.”

  Hugh cradled his head in his hands. “I can’t do this.” Gazing up at Hugh, he said, “Go on without me.”

  “The hell I will.” Maximillian sat down next to him.

  He hated the way Hugh looked. Pale. Sweaty.

  Hugh leaned back against a tree and shut his eyes.

  Maximillian heard a loud click. Swiveling his head, his eyes lit upon the tall figure of a woman, a rifle in her hands.

  “Stay where you are and don’t move!” Her hands shook as she aimed the rifle at them.

  She took a step toward both men. Maximillian rose to his full height, watching her, the rifle aimed at his chest. For one crazy second, with the moonlight glinting off her pale hair, he swore she resembled a tall Viking maiden of long ago.

  He also thought she’d fit nicely against him, her head barely skimming the top of his shoulder.

  Sacre bleu!

  What a spectacular build–wide hips, ample breasts…

  His dick responded by jutting out from between his legs, and he struggled to control the wayward response. Desire for a full-figured woman had gotten him and Hugh into this centuries-old mess in the first place.

  As she neared, he could see her face.

  Beautiful! She had wide, generous mouth, ripe for kissing, and big blue eyes.

  A man could get lost in those eyes…

  So could a monster.

  He shook his head to clear it of his crazy thoughts, gazing down at the barrel of the rifle.

  “What are you doing on my land?”

  Think…think!

  He opted for the truth. “My name is Maximillian Effroi, and this is my cousin Hugh.”

  She glanced at Hugh, slumped against the tree.

  “What’s wrong with him?” She narrowed her eyes, keeping the gun trained on Maximillian.

  “We were taking a walk when he suddenly fell ill.”

  “This is private land, owned and operated by the Long Island College of Forensic Science.”

  “Huh?”

  “Private. As in, not yours. Get it?”

  Hugh moaned, placing his hands around his stomach.

  Maximillian ran a hand through his hair, his gut clenching. “My cousin is ill. He needs help.” He glanced at the badge dangling from her neck. “You’re a doctor?”

  She nodded then cocked the rifle. “And you and your…cousin are trespassers and body snatchers.”

  He growled low in his throat, his patience stretched thin. The woman’s big blue eyes opened wide when his fangs rose up from his bottom gums. She lowered the gun, her hands shaking violently.

  It was all the distraction Maximillian needed.

  Wrenching the gun from her hands, he tossed it away. She stepped back, panic and fear marring her lovely oval face. Then she tripped, tumbling to the ground. She scrambled to her feet, but he grabbed her sweater, yanking her backward, her bottom connecting with his groin.

  As soon as her bottom cheeks brushed his cock, Maximillian was lost in a haze of lust. He had to stop himself from reaching down and caressing her backside.

  Hugh groaned in pain.

  She squirmed in Maximillian’s arms, but he held her fast, his nose buried in her long, blonde hair. She smelled like flowers—a whole field full of wildflowers…

  Hugh’s eyes opened.

  She gasped when his irises turned a brilliant red, his fangs rising up in his mouth.

  “What are you?” She glanced back at Maximillian, her face as white as a sheet.

  He whispered in her ear, his nose brushing her lobe. Maximillian felt her shudder. “I will explain everything to you, cherie, after you help my cousin.”

  She lifted her nose in the air, but her body shook. “Like hell I will.”

  He tugged her closer…and closer still. “Please,” he implored. “We mean you no harm.”

  “Hah!” She struggled, but he held her fast. “I know what this is. One of those crazy Halloween stunts the kids pull so they can post the video on the Internet.”

  “This is no joke, doctor.”

  She shook her head and sighed. “You and your buddy obviously drank too much at the Halloween party tonight.”

  “Oh we drank all right, just not what you’re thinking. We…”

  “Come on.” She
shrugged away from him and walked toward Hugh. “Let’s get your friend to the lab. He can sleep it off there.”

  Maximillian felt the tension drain from his body while he assisted her in getting Hugh to his feet.

  Maybe there was some good left in the world, after all.

  One good woman, that’s all it would take…

  * * * *

  “How much did he have?” Marta asked the tall, dark-haired man as they laid the other man on the couch in the little room off her lab.

  “You mean, blood?”

  She rolled her eyes, but inside, she felt like a big bowl of wiggly Jell-O. Leaning over, she smelled the man’s breath.

  Strange…he didn’t smell like liquor.

  “Okay, we’ll play it your way. Yes, blood. How much did he drink?”

  If these guys wanted her to play along with their ridiculous Halloween prank, so be it.

  It was probably some frat-boy hazing ritual.

  She glanced at the tall, dark haired man. Her heart did a funny little flutter as she watched him, his long, sculpted face etched with lines of worry.

  She had a thing for tall men.

  The one on the couch groaned. He opened his hazel eyes and looked into hers. Then he reached up and grabbed her face between his two large hands, and kissed the breath from her body.

  Marta almost sank to the floor when his mouth connected with hers. It felt like a hot, fiery brand. A thousand kisses rolled into that one, single caress of her lips.

  Her breasts felt heavy, her nipples peaking when the tip of his tongue trailed across her lower lip.

  Her clit responded, too. When her panties grew damp, she squirmed on the couch next to him.

  “Corinne, magnifique!” He cried. “Where have you been, you naughty girl?”

  Okay, so…these pranksters were tall, handsome and…

  French.

  Anyone could put on a French accent.

  “Comment je vous ai manqué! Et Maximilien, trop. Nous aspirons pour votre beau corps chaud la nuit. Il est tellement froid maintenant ... si froid …”

  She had enough high school and college French to know that he was saying something about her body.