The Guardian of Death

By Angelique Page

Life had become so complicated for me lately, that I feel like I am living in a strange dream world. I lost my husband to a freak accident, which saved the sight of a total stranger. Then this total stranger was brought to my aid by the one whom I lost. Through his new eyes he hears a voice in his head, which is the soul of my dead husband. Now my dead husband tells me that this stranger is in love with me. It is something you would expect to see in a movie on the sci-fi channel, not in real life. But the most frightening part of it all is that there is a crazed psycho on the loose that is hunting down single independent women. Will Jesse be a target, if she is, who is there to protect her, now that she is by herself, now that Jeff is gone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 27, 2012
• ISBN: 9781469185743

Angelique Page

Angelique Paige was born in Fitzgerald Georgia, and lived in various towns ranging from north to south of the state. She lived in Albany until she was seventeen, when she moved to Florida. Preferring the small towns slow country life, she moved to Palatka Florida, where she still resides with her husband of twenty one years, their sixteen year old son, and their thirteen year old daughter.

Book preview

The

GUARDIAN

of

DEATH

109474-CONE-layout.pdf

Angelique Page

Copyright © 2012 by Angelique Page.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2012905085

ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4691-8573-6

                   Softcover                                 978-1-4691-8572-9

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4691-8574-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

109474

Dedication

To my mother Lavenia, for all the love, wisdom, and support she gave, throughout all of my many endeavors. You’re the best mom.

Contents

Acknowledgments

Prologue

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

Acknowledgments

I WANT TO thank god first and foremost, without him in my life nothing would be possible.

To my great friend and best neighbor, Cynthia Rhodes. For all the reading and rereading of my writings, and the many hours she sat with me helping me put my manuscript into type. Also for being my biggest fan and pushing me to finish this book, when I felt like throwing my hands up and quitting.

To my family, for their love and support, and putting up with me while put my project together.

My husband for not being too angry with me while I sat at the computer for hours on end, and seeming to ignore him on our little bit of time off together from the day to day job.

My son Catlin, for helping with dinner and supper on the weekends, while I worked.

My daughter Hannah, thank you for helping me name my characters and giving me feed back,

helping me feel my way through this first book, of which I hope will be a long lasting series.

To Xlibris for that first phone call, and for making my dream of being published a reality. For taking a chance that I may have a story, that someone may find interesting enough to read. To all of the many departments that put my story into print. Thank you all.

AND LAST BUT definitely not least, I want to thank all of the readers in advance, for purchasing my book. I hope it gave you the reading pleasure that you expected.

Prologue

I HAVE ALWAYS considered myself a strong, independent woman, never allowing myself to live in a fantasy world, or dream too much, because dreams just do not come true. I have never allowed myself to be weak or vulnerable, since my childhood, which now seems to me a nightmare from a whole other era.

My name is Jessica Marie, a.k.a. Jesse or Jess to my family and friends—the few I have that is. Most of the time, I tend to keep people at a comfortable distance; that way, it keeps my life as simple as possible and uncomplicated. Mom says that I should not push everyone away, because if I am not careful, I’m going to end up old and alone, which I don’t feel is such a bad thing.

My mom, Lavenia, is the peace keeper of the family. She always used to tell me, Jessica, you shouldn’t be so confrontational. If you make waves it will only make things worse for you in the long run. You know some things are just better left unsaid.

She sometimes told me that she was a little weak minded, but to me she’s always been sort of a pillar of strength in her own odd sort of way. Maybe a little weak in some sense, in the way she lets people run over her, but strong in another sense, in the way she is able to see the good in them and overlook the bad. It’s like she doesn’t have a bad word in her to say about anyone, quite nonjudgmental, always keeping her opinions to herself.

My sister, Michelle, is the brainy one in the family; she always seems to be on the straight and narrow path, knowing exactly what she wants out of life and going after it—the career, the family, and the house with the little white picket fence. She seems to draw a multitude of friends. She’s always been quite the entertainer, throwing parties, cook outs, for almost every occasion from holidays, birthdays, even football games and nascar on the big screen.

Michelle and Andy married right out of high school. She was fifteen when they met and it was love at first sight and happily ever after, if you believe in that sort of thing. Personally, I don’t believe in happily ever afters. Those only exist in fairy tales and my life is far from a fairy tale. The funny thing about life is that life has a funny way of changing the way you see things, and the way life sees you.

Chapter 1

MONDAY MORNING STARTED out the same as any other morning. I awoke from the usual, elusive nightmare that I always had, but never could quite grasp. When reality hit at 4:00 a.m., I laid there in a cold sweat feeling a little vulnerable and exposed in a way that I couldn’t comprehend.

Trying to push away that uncomfortable, numbing feeling once more, I finally rolled myself to the edge of my empty king-sized bed, longing for the warmth that used to greet me there, in a loving embrace that is now and forever more long gone.

I got to my feet and headed for the shower, the only welcome comfort I could count on. I stood there, letting the hot water wash away the sticky sweat and relax away the tension that was left over from my dream.

Feeling refreshed now and ready to take on the morning (and whatever the day had in store for me), I went to the kitchen for my first of many cups of coffee of the day, stopping at the TV to turn on the morning news at 5:00 a.m. Top breaking news, the anchorman said. Twenty-three-year-old female found murdered, stripped of all clothing. So far, not many clues to go on. Detectives are on the scene now, here at the I-75 Georgia/Florida info center/rest area, which will be closed pending their investigation. The only information we were able to get, came from the coroner that was on the scene, saying that the time of death was approximately 1:00 a.m., and that the young woman appeared to have been raped, but further investigation was needed to be certain. I felt a cold chill run down my back to think of what that poor woman went through in her last hours of life. How could anyone be so sadistic and cruel to put another human being through that kind of horror and terror and still call themselves a person! They are more like animals preying on the weak and the helpless.

She was only three years younger than I. To be out there traveling by herself at that time of morning, she must have been alone, unattached, no one to protect her, no one for her to depend on or to wrap her in a gentle loving embrace or quiet her fears, or to let her know everything would be okay. And now for her, that time would never come.

As my thoughts raced, the thought of never having that again myself—someone to love unconditionally, someone who would love me the same way—made me start to feel a little helpless myself, then a little angry with myself for the moment of weakness that seemed to come over me, after finally beginning to put my life back together from the shattered pieces that the accident left me in two years ago.

I got up from the table, turned the TV off, and gathered my things as I went through the house, turning out the lights. I opened the door to the cool dark morning, thankful for the lack of fog, which sometimes hindered my way out of the long winding driveway, with the overgrown branches, that I’ve yet to lop off. Finally reaching the main road, I made the left heading into town, wondering what my job would bring today. Oil changes, tires, brakes, anything would be welcome to keep my thoughts at bay. The idea of a mindless task to do would help lighten my mood a bit; maybe help to rid my mind of the faceless, nameless woman from the news this morning.

Good morning, John, so what’s on the agenda for the day?

Well, there’s a BMW waiting in the first bay. I saved it just for you. I know how you like the fast and fancy ones, he laughed.

There’s nothing like taking a walk on the posh side of life in a gorgeous piece of machinery I joked, especially when you have friends on the highway patrol payroll, I confessed.

Another fast one, aye Jess?

Yep, you know how I like the fast ones, Eddie. I might not be able to afford one of my own, but a girl can dream can’t she? I kidded.

Eddie is probably the closest friend I have other than John. Well, not probably, I’d have to say, he is my best friend. He is always trying to save me from myself, always trying to drag me out of my life of solitude. Occasionally, I give in and hit the bar with him after work, for a few drinks and a game or two of pool, that is, when he’s not out on a date with his fling of the month. I call him a male whore because he changes women like he changes clothes. In all honesty, he really isn’t; he just seems to always attract the most flighty chicks, which are always looking for the next best thing. With his good looks and charm, the blond hair and blue eyes, the sweet boyish dimples, the well-sculpted body that most men would have to spend hours a day in a gym to achieve, appealing to almost any woman’s fantasy, of the perfect man. But most of the time, he tends to fall for the ones that are just looking for someone to use, for their own selfish desires, and then cast them aside like an old toy, just to move on to the next one. I tell him, He’s too nice for his own good. He always just smiles and shakes his head. I know if I were looking for someone to start over with, he would be about as close to being the most perfect man I could ever hope to find. But, I’m not looking and my love for Eddie is closer to that of a brother, my best friend.

I dove into my work that morning, welcoming the distraction from my earlier thoughts—the opportunity to work out a puzzle, which is what my job was to me. To be able to find the problem, tear it apart, and then put it back together in perfect working order to make all things as they should be. It was kind of my sanity, my way of life—to make all things around me perfect.

Well, another one bites the dust, Eddie. He came over, and leaned under the open hood beside me. He’s blown a head gasket and possibly cracked a head.

Looks like someone else likes to ride ’em as hard as you do, Jess. I hope that’s no indication as to how he treats his women.

That’s not very nice, Eddie. You don’t even know this person and besides, like you would know anything about how to treat your ladies, I kidded him. By the way, how’s the new flavor of the month?

Crashed and burned, how about you, Jess?

You know me, Eddie, married to my job and my critters. I don’t have time for romance. I saw the pity stroke his eyes as he studied me for a minute. Don’t even say it, I warned him.

What? he asked, trying to look all innocent.

I know what that look means. You always think I’m trying to dodge happiness. But I am happy with my life, just the way it is, simple.

I can remember a time when you were a lot happier, he argued.

Well, that time has long been buried, along with Jeff two years ago. You remember my husband, your best friend? I growled, casting him a scornful look. I don’t understand why Eddie does this to me; he knows how much the subject gets to me.

Jess, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to upset you, but like you said it’s been two years and you can’t keep punishing yourself because he died and you didn’t. You have to learn to get on with your life and quit acting as if you died in that wreck with him. Quit just going through the motions of life and start living it again.

I felt the anger and hurt stab through me like a hot knife, as I all but ran to the restroom, to where I knew he would not follow me. Once inside I stood there against the door, trying to catch my breath, trying to choke back the wave of tears that threatened to overtake me. I was angry with myself for allowing this moment of weakness to take control of me. I had to be strong; I had to overcome this fear of surviving without him. True happiness was something I couldn’t see myself ever having again.

While I stood there, looking in the mirror at this stranger I had become, my thoughts drifted back to the last day I had spent with Jeff. It was a beautiful sunny breezy June day. We had taken the day off from work for a trip to St. Augustine. The tourist season, not quite in full swing yet, we had the whole day planned to do nothing in particular. We would do whatever notion hit us. Just to be together in each other’s company was all we cared about. We started the day out with a round of putt-putt golf and laughing at each other’s lack of coordination and inability to putt a little ball in a straight line, on even the simplest of holes. After watching even the children around us, putting par after par, we decided that it was a good thing that we didn’t choose golf for either of our professions. We went to the concession stand and ordered an ice cream to share. We sat at a table and watched the children run around and play, without a care in the world. We both adored children very much, but at the time we were content to just have each other. We felt that there was plenty of time to have children in the future. Our lives were so full just having each other, we didn’t feel that we needed anything else to complete us or make us happy. At the time it felt perfect the way it was.

Later that afternoon, we went to the beach and walked while we talked over the plans we both had for our future together, our hopes, our dreams, thinking that we had all the time in the world. But little did we know at that moment that our lives were about to change drastically; had I known what was about to happen, I would have insisted on staying as long as possible, held him tighter, told him just how much he meant to me, loved him more, if that were even possible. But life is cruel and it has a way of taking things away when you least expected it to.

On our way home that night, it was dusk and the sun was already setting low. We got on I-95 for the short six miles of highway to the highway 16 exit, like any other trip home from the beach. From out of nowhere, an eighteen-wheeler slammed into the driver side of the jeep, rolling us over and sending us careening off into a small patch of trees. In the blink of an eye, all of our hopes and dreams vanished into a darkness, which I haven’t been able to escape.

For a month I fought for my life. I fought to be back by Jeff’s side, only to awaken and find that he had not survived. He was gone, and my hopes and dreams were gone with him, stolen from me, taken away after only six short, but wonderful, years. At that instant my heart was ripped out of my chest, and from that moment on, I wished I had never come out of the coma alive. How was I ever going to live without him? How could I move on with my life when he was my life? He was the only thing that gave my life meaning; he was my strength. Now that strength was gone, I had no idea how I was going to cope. All I wanted to do was to lay there and die myself.

A hard bang at the door brought me back to the present and away from my past.

Jesse, are you okay in there?

Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute, I yelled back. I washed my face in cold water and dried it on a shop towel, hoping that my eyes were not too red to betray me for my breakdown. I pulled myself together and opened the door. When I looked up, Eddie was standing against the outside door facing of the bathroom, arms folded; looking as if he’d just lost his best friend. I managed a bit of a smile as I brushed on past him trying not to make full eye contact and wishing he couldn’t read me so well.

I walked around to the front of the shop to the customer waiting area, reading over my work order notes. John says it is imperative that we treat every customer like family or at least friends. Always address them by name and welcome them.

Good morning, James, how are you? I am Jesse Webber. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting so long, I spoke, as I walked through the door, not taking the time to really even look at him.

It seems that today’s not your lucky day. Your head gasket is blown and you have a cracked head, not a quick fix. It’s going to cost you a pretty penny to put it back on the road. But… we can order the parts and have it ready in about three or four days—it just depends on how long the parts take to get here.

I’d like to speak with the mechanic, if you could be so kind, he finally said. His voice was so warm, almost like sun’s rays coming through a cold, wet, dreary day of fall, so soothing, I almost wanted to run for fear of losing my guard, but at the same time he almost angered me with the question, as if insinuating, that because I was a woman and not a man, I had no idea what I was talking about. With a bit more sarcasm in my voice than I had anticipated, I am your mechanic, Mr. Williams.

I found myself jumping to the defensive, guarding my own integrity as if I needed to explain anything to this stranger. I knew that I was competent and capable, and that was really all that mattered.

He looked at me with a sheepish smile as he apologized, I wasn’t questioning you or your knowledge. I only have a question to ask.

I stood there on the defense, awaiting his question, thinking that it was as if he, like Eddie, could read my thoughts and emotions, which I worked so hard to keep hidden from the world. I felt my guard slipping once more, for the third time today. It scared the hell out of me. What’s wrong with me? I wrenched my mind back into focus. Focus I told myself, you can’t keep doing this. But as hard as I tried, the more difficult it seemed to be. I felt sort of odd in this man’s presence. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it but I felt a strange pull in the pit of my stomach that made it roll, twist, and knot, like I had butterflies, but worse.

I am no mechanic and not very mechanically inclined, he confessed, so can you tell me, if this is something that needs to be fixed right away, or can it wait a week or so? You see, I have a very busy schedule this week and this is quite an inconvenience.

I had to laugh at his total lack of knowledge of such a fine piece of machinery. Well, Mr. Williams, . . . to be honest with you, I wouldn’t even trust it for another city block, if I were you, but I can help you with your dilemma. We have loaners that can get you back on your way until we’re done with your car.

Well, that’s a relief! I hate to keep my clients waiting in the dark for very long, he commented with a grimace of a smile.

*     *     *

I could see that she wasn’t up for small talk but I wanted to keep her here talking as long as I could, not only was she pleasing to the eyes, there was something about this small creature standing before me. She was very reserved in her demeanor, almost like she was not who she seemed to be at all. I couldn’t remember ever feeling the need to be around a person like I suddenly wanted to be around this tiny pixy-looking beauty, standing before me now. It was crazy. This was the first time I had ever laid eyes on her, but at that precise moment, I knew that I had to find a way to get to know her.

*     *     *

What kind of business are you in? I questioned, trying to ease the tension, which I feel that I created in the room with my all too-quick assumptions.

I work for the states coroner’s office. I perform autopsies for the Florida state CSI unit for high-profile homicide cases, he said with that same sheepish little smile.

I felt the shock on my face, as I looked at him, with what he must have perceived as morbid disgust and horror. He looked at me and sort of laughed.

It’s not as bad as it sounds, he said. Call it kind of a gift. I am able to look at the clues they leave me and help them find justice—justice for those that no longer have a voice of their own.

From your outward appearance I would never have guessed that of you. Likewise, he said, gesturing at my small framed body in a slightly oversized pair of greasy, oil-stained coveralls.

Fair enough, I said with a slight grin, almost embarrassed.

The rest of the day went by quite normally. I dove right into my task at hand, disassembling the engine of the BMW, without much thought at all, except for the owner of this beautiful car. Effortlessly going through the motions again, like any other day, welcoming it, almost embracing it, something to keep my thoughts at bay. This was the first time that I felt the distraction of a man since Jeff. I wasn’t sure that I was ready for that kind of distraction in my life right now, now that I was finally beginning to feel somewhat normal, like I could finally breathe again.

After work, Eddie and I went to the bar as we occasionally did to unwind. I felt the need for a little extra help to unwind this afternoon.

We went to our usual table in the corner by the end pool table. Deb greeted us as always, with her warm, friendly smile, The usual, guys?

That would be great, Deb. Within about three minutes she was back with two cork coasters, a triple black for me, and a bud light for Eddie. She sauntered back to the bar where Keith, her husband/partner/bar owner was perched upon his usual bar stool, watching for any potential problems that sometimes arose when you add too much testosterone and booze into one room.

Most of the regulars sat at their usual places at the main bar, laughing and boasting arrogantly and egotistically about who’s better with women, sports, hunting, and fishing, who shot or caught the biggest or most fish and wild game, and acting as though they were kings of the universe. It was no wonder to me why they were all still single.

I’m still single because I choose to be. Eddie, well because miss right just hasn’t come along yet, but with patience, she will I always encouraged.

Slipping into my thoughts, as I watched the bar patrons, young women trying to discretely be noticed, the young guys trying to be macho and impressive, with their display of their manliness. It was like watching some kind of mating ritual on the discovery channel, playing out live, and in full color. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, my elbow was nudged off the edge of the table. Eddies voice invaded my thoughts.

Hey, earth to Jesse, he said laughing at me