Emerald

By Jeff Jackson

It all started in 1973. A pair of eyes, as green as emeralds, drove a mentally challenged boy to murder. Then again it happened in 1995, when the emerald green eyes caused a young wife to jump to her doom. They say life goes in circles.
Now people are dying in Long Beach, California. People seemed to be cursed by the lovely emerald green eyes of Kelly Christian. It seems anyone she meets dies a horrible death. But Kelly can’t even remember her own past, let alone know what is going on in the present. With the help of her new love, Eric, and the police detective Ray Delgado, she has to figure out what it is that is killing her friends before it kills her too.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeff Jackson
• Release date: Jun 26, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310419577

Jeff Jackson

Jeffrey Jackson was born and raised on the southern most tip of Ohio and traveled throughout most of the country, settling for awhile in Jacksonville, Florida, before returning to Ohio to be with his daughter.He is a graduate of Ironton High School and attended classes at Ohio University.He enjoys restoring and collecting old cars, motorcycles, and antiques. Jeffrey also enjoys outdoor activities such as camping and fishing, as well as his taste for fine cooking and has developed his own spices. He plays a multitude of musical instruments and also writes music and poetry.Look for the next novel "Heaven in Heart", with a much darker slant to horror, coming to Smashwords soon.

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Emerald

Jeff Jackson

Emerald

Jeffrey Jackson

Published by Jeffrey Jackson

, Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2007 Jeffrey Jackson

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This work also contains graphic violence, adult situations, graphic sexuality, and language

Table of contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

About the Author

1.

1973

Rising. Up and up, rising to the sky still smoldering came the embers. Floating, twisting and turning, going in circles, they glowed the color of the burnt orange Challenger parked by the roadway. It was parked next to a Willy's wagon, one of the favored beach combing vehicles for the surfing and partying in crowd here. The Challenger, though, was new being this year’s model. 1973, the last year for the famous three hundred forty cubic inch, all American muscle, mopar engine under its finely detailed hood.

Forty yards from the parked American muscle and the party wagon, the embers flew from the fire as a group of teenagers danced almost pagan like to the sound of Deep Purple and the taste of Pabst, the blue ribbon beer, at least that's what Billy called it.

Billy had followed the Challenger here knowing that with it came Freddie Miller, Flagler Beach football hero, and boyfriend of Sarah Rosen. Billy watched as the drunken party moved closer to the waves as the alcohol began to brave the nippy January air that hit even here this part of the year. As with the previous three weekends, Sarah stayed behind, choosing the warmth of the flames dancing close to her frail, thin figure.

Billy was nineteen, a year older than his classmates, having been held back, and then finally put in mostly slow classes to compensate his disability with learning. He was only five foot-six, a very dumpy two hundred-ten pounds. His nose was flat, his hands way bigger than proportion of his body. His teeth were too small and barely seen through his chubby cheeked face. But his eyes were alive as he studied his prey, his obsession

With growing enthusiasm he slipped around the dunes, staying just out of line of sight and watched Sarah. His eyes followed her body lines, the swell of her hips that had pleasured him many nights in his room alone in his thoughts, driving his need more and more. He realized with embarrassment, until it dawned on him that no one could see him that he was stroking his crotch through his pants as his eyes undressed her, marveling at her lovely tanned skin.

He had done that very thing without thinking about it in class just the day before. Old Mrs. Taylor never seen him, it had been Freddie and he had grabbed Billy by the collar of his favorite brown windbreaker and pounded mercilessly on his screaming, tear streaked face until several other teachers could get there to break it up. His mother had pleaded it wasn't his fault he couldn't control himself, to no avail, but had beaten the backs of his legs with a coat hanger when they got home from her having to come to pick him up from the school, leaving fresh cuts and bruises to cover the ones still not healed from the previous and frequent beatings.

Now he watched and thought of the things to come, licking his lips in anticipation. Never again would she haunt him. Never again would Freddie think he was god-all-mighty just because he played football and the school couldn't blemish his perfect record. Sarah was going to be his tonight and forever after.

Slowly he crept forward, watching that the others were keeping at a distance. He heard the music change songs to the Beatles Yellow Submarine. In his left hand, he had picked up a piece of driftwood to knock her unconscious. The soft, warm sand gave no warning sounds of his approach and the rest of the partying group were paying no attention as they waited in the cold water for the next breaker to carry them away.

He stopped directly behind her and rose the haggard looking would be club over his head. He peered down on her golden hair, dangling over her face as she sat with her face lowered. Her sobs were coming gently, barely audible.

Sarah had never liked coming to the beach at night as dangerous as it was. She knew Freddie would get drunk as usual, running off to ride his board in the freezing water, then come back and want her to kiss his beer smelling breath as his hands wandered her roughly. She sat in her bell bottom jeans and light blue sweater that he said showed her finer things in life and waited for the inevitable. It had happened many times, and usually it went farther than she wanted, being only a fifteen year old freshman and not feeling ready for the things he was doing to her. She had let him have what he wanted though because he was the Adonis of the school. Even with her golden blonde hair and her over developed body, she still wanted to feel respected and didn't.

She raised her hand to brush her hair out of her eyes, realizing she was crying softly, thinking she knew what was going to happen to her later when the Challenger came to rest in Freddie's favorite lover's lane spot when she heard a whine come from behind her. The whine of a dog being made to do something it didn't want to. Startled, she turned and looked up at the bruised face of the older boy that she shared psychology class with. The same one she had met Freddie in. The same pervert that had been touching himself and Freddie had smacked around.

Billy looked down realizing he had let out a whine that had been caught in his throat of indecision just as Sarah turned and looked up at him.

Her eyes.....

A placid green that glowed almost as bright as the fire only a few feet away.

Emeralds….

They looked like emeralds held to a light. They looked up at him in horror, terrified and shocked. He was stunned as well. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was just supposed to whack her on the back of the head and carry her to his mother's old Impala station wagon.

In Sarah's eyes, he looked like a chubby Neanderthal man standing above her with his club ready to knock her on the head and have his way. She had only one urge......scream

With the first scream, Billy panicked, almost running, then knowing that she had seen him and would tell, he had to at least knock her out long enough to get away. He brought the soft driftwood down. The blood started trickling down her face. She screamed again, this time more in horror at her blood than shock. He swung again, and again. The song echoing in his head through his panic, We all live in a yellow submarine, yellow submarine, yellow submarine. Still she screamed, falling forward and trying to crawl away, her lovely golden hair turning crimson, the improvised club not being hard enough to knock her out.

He looked up and seen the group of horror stricken teens wading back to the shore, slowed by the tidal pull of the black night water. He swung again, again, again. If only she would stop screaming.

The last thing that went through Sarah's mind was why, at recognition of the dull crack of her skull fracturing and her surroundings began to fade. She couldn't even feel the repeated blows now, only the pressure of the repeated blows bobbing her head as her vision receded from her and the last thing she heard was yellow submarine, yellow submarine, yellow submarine, then silence... Those lovely emeralds, the meticulously green eyes closed forever.

In another part of the country a husband watched joyfully as his daughter was born. Such a tiny baby, as beautiful as all new borne is to their parents. He held her close, his hands running over the peach fuzz covered head, which belong to his little Katy and looked into her almost emerald green eyes.

2.

1995

A weary glance at the clock. Almost two a.m. and he still isn't home. She cast her emerald green eyes across the living room out the large window into the darkness beyond. Most nights were like this, though, when the bars closed her husband would come home, reeking of whiskey or beer, or his flavor of the night. Sometimes she feared that flavor might have a pulse of its own, but quickly decided no other woman was in the picture because he always tried to crawl on top of her when he came in. Most nights she succeeded in fending him off anymore, aided by the booze which quickly put him out like a light.

Katy sat patiently and waited, her slender fingers toying with her curly brown hair, pulling a strand and going in circles. That was how she felt her marriage had been, going in circles. A few good months a few bad months, it went back and forth. The same had been with their love life. A few good nights, when Jared was sober and gently made love to her, but mostly bad when he came in bombed and was rough with her.

Why didn't he understand she was too small for his kind of rough stuff? At 5'4 and ninety five pounds, Katy was a very lovely, petite woman. She had dark brown hair that fell the middle of her back in beautiful natural curls, a tiny waist and lovely swelled hips. She had a figure that a most women would die for without ever working out, the legs of a goddess, and still looked sixteen. She sat in her sweats and a tee shirt of Jared's which read Youthenasia from one of his hard rock groups and featured a scene of an old woman hanging babies onto a cloth line by their toes and she waited.

She liked a lot of his late eighties, early nineties hard rock, but preferred her more today style of even heavier, what Jared called cookie monster music because the lead singers grumble like the famous Sesame Street character. She also liked some hip hop and country, cooked fairly well, and had a good career in a local bank. Life was good other than her husband’s drinking problem.

Katy had been a shy girl, growing up and living all her life here right outside Lexington, Kentucky. She loved this time of the year with the leaves turning their fall colors. It was so beautiful in the rolling hills and in the valleys that surrounded this area. Fall was her favorite time of the year, the other seasons being so unpredictable in this area. Winter could be in the fifties one day and the next there would be three foot of snow. Spring brought another lovely array of flowers and wildlife to the mostly wooded area that was so much in her heart.

If only she could keep Jared there, thinking every minute he was gone how she should have listened three years ago when her parents begged her not to marry the guy who had sweet talked and babied her unbelievably. He had even stopped drinking altogether and found a job doing construction to impress her father who had been in the line of work all his life. Jared ran heavy equipment almost as smoothly as Jack Daniels ran down his throat.

The day they met, Katy had been at a local record store where she was looking for nothing in particular and looked over the gondola and seen Jared looking back. The shirt she was wearing had been a sweatshirt with USA in big bold letters, and he made a lewd comment to the effect of the eighties wrestler Hacksaw Jim Duggan, saying Hey USA, I got a two by four for ya. Somehow Katy ended up driving him around while he loaded himself on booze and they talked for hours. He was a perfect gentleman to her aside their rude introduction and two weeks later they moved in together and married nine months later.

Things had been so wonderful in the beginning, building a new life together, taking their first vacation together, and then buying their own home for the first time as a couple. Then the drinking came back, his job went away and more drinking came. Shortly after, his spending habits worsened and money had become tight. Jared never hit her, but his temper was like lightning and fierce. So many men of their area were like that though, especially amongst his rougher crowd. Drugs, fighting, loud music, and late nights had taken their toll on the couple even before the drunken nights of forceful sex had replaced the tender lovemaking of yester-year on the one she had chosen as her soul mate in her mind.

What had she done to deserve this life, she had always been the little princess to her parents, minding them well. She had tried hard in school and been successful in sports. Responsibility and ambition had always been in her drive as well. Yet, here she was, alone from the early evenings to the early morning hours every night longing for Jared to come home, but dreading it just as much.

The flash of headlights brought Katy back to the present moment. The music from the car was loud enough to hear inside the house, the sure sign Jared was home. The car door slammed and the uneven steps on the walk came next as always. She often thought about getting the door for him, or meeting him there as she used to do when things were good between them, but sat tight and listened. There was an amusement to listening to him fumble his keys with the lock, usually dropping them at least once. Her ears caught the jingle twice of the little brass and silver pieces of metal hitting the concrete porch before they found the door knob. Put some hair around it his friends would say when something wouldn't go where it was supposed to, no mind to a lady being in the room. The door opened hard and smashed against the wall, another hole in the sheetrock to be fixed and repainted.

What are you doing up? You have to work in the morning and should be in bed. I always come home, there's no reason to wait up. Jared almost hissed at her seeing her still waiting as always.

I love you too. Katy replied as sarcastically as possible, What's the sense try to sleep when you will wake me anyway? This has all got to stop. I can't sleep with you not at home.

Jared kicked his boots up into the air, one landing in the foyer next to the shoe stand, the other crashing against the coat closet leaving a black streak across the off white paint. Well, since you are up, I am hungry. He walked straight to the bathroom and slammed the door without waiting for a reply.

Katy sighed deeply and walked into the kitchen to heat up some left over spaghetti from the dinner he had missed or rather had replaced with booze. The microwave was all the cooking that got done this late at night and on top of the alcohol, he would never know the difference anyway. The microwave carried the plate of noodles circling around until the ding signaled to the lazy person who chose not to cook that the contents were ready. She sat his plate on the table and went to the bedroom and lay down.

Fifteen minutes later he walked into the room, spaghetti sauce at the corner of his mouth and crash landed beside her. She ignored this and he placed an arm around her waist, pulling up against her. Jared's other hand pulled her hair away from her neck and stroked it. She cringed from the reek of Kentucky mash coming from behind her, then closer to her face as he leaned in and started kissing her exposed neck.

She closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep as his lips moved to her earlobe then across her cheek. The gag that came from the putrid smell of his breath was almost too much and Katy turned away.

A few minutes passed but this was a clockworks event. Every night the same thing, Jared's hand slid down her side to her waist then to her hips. He pulled her against him hard, and then slid his hand under her sweats. There was no love in his touch, only alcohol fueled urgency to use her.

Choosing to avoid an hour long conflict over twenty minutes of tolerated physical abuse, the girl that was once daddies princess rolled over on her stomach to avoid the foul breathe as he slid her sweats off and kneaded the flesh of her small bubbly butt roughly, then mounted her. Katy turned her face away and sobbed softly. He never noticed.

She listened in the dark to his gentle snore. Moving her head slowly, she looked over toward the red digital numbers on the clock that sat on the nightstand. She could feel the skin draw up from dried tear