The Berserk Murders: Shasha's Team, #2

By M.J. Fitzmaurice

Ordinary Americans feel a compulsion to murder their neighbors. Chaos in the suburbs starts to spread. Law enforcement doesn't have a clue why.

Shasha Harrings and her team must find out why ordinary people are compelled to commit murder. They know the answers lie somewhere in the heart of suburban america. Will the team be able to solve and stop the crimes before the entire country dissolves in murderous chaos?

The Berserk Murders is book 2 in the Shasha's Team urban fantasy horror series. It's a fast paced mystery, page-turning paranormal story, and a strange murder investigation. It's the second installment of M.J. Fitzmaurice's 'hard to put down' series. Buy The Berserk Murders to read Shasha's Team's latest investigation today.

• Language: English
• Publisher: M.J. Fitzmaurice
• Release date: Apr 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215011966

M.J. Fitzmaurice

Born in New Hampshire, teen years spent in Alaska, went to college in Spokane WA, and raised a family in Lodi CA. MJ has done a variety of jobs and lived in a variety of places. The constants have always been family, forests, and fiction. Contact MJ at website www.mjfitzmaurice.com or email [e-mail]

Book preview

Chapter 2 – Life and Trauma

3 days later

FBI Special Agent David Seskin did not like to appear vulnerable. His long athletic frame and dark hair cropped into a squared-off crewcut gave him the no-nonsense, self-assured look of Wesley Snipes in Blade. He went to the bar and ordered an Old Ginsler. He hated the taste of the stuff, but he used it as part of his self-punishment.

He had killed a man, FBI Special Agent Carl Joseph, six months ago. It haunted David and made him seek out bars like this, where he could numb his guilt and rage with whiskey. Tonight, he had chosen a seedy bar known for a rough patronage. The place was dimly lit, mostly to hide its imperfections and stains. There were a few tables near the door, and in the back, there was a large room where several men were currently laughing and playing pool. After his second shot of the vile, burning hooch, David put a twenty on the bar and headed for the pool room. He looked for a victim, someone who was an alpha. Someone who had buddies that would stick up for him. Someone who would be easy to bait.

A big white guy with arms like a boxer was lining up a shot, slowly moving the cue back and forth towards the ball. David could feel the man’s confidence. This was someone who was comfortable with his leadership role. An alpha male.

David timed his passage and knocked into the man just as he was about to hit the cue. The stick careened off the side of the white ball, and it went spinning up and off the table.

The man stood up and confronted David. What the fuck?

What? Oh, sorry man, didn’t see you there. David started to walk by the man. The big guy grabbed his arm and spun David back to face him. That was the opening David hoped for. As he spun, David raised his right fist and plowed it into the man’s face, sending him falling onto the table. Blood gushed from the man’s nose. David wasn’t sure which was more soothing, the pain in his knuckles or the sight of the pain he had caused. He reached down and pulled the man up off the table.

Come on, pussy, hit me! David plowed his left fist into the man’s gut. But the big guy was no stranger to fighting. He twisted a little and blocked David’s punch, then threw a fast, hard jab at his jaw. David only half avoided the punch. He could have easily moved out of the way, but he wanted the pain. It was temporary solace and penance for what he had done, for the miserable gut-churning guilt he couldn’t get rid of any other way.

David fought, allowing the man to get in some good hits, pulling his own punches to keep the fight going as long as possible. At one point, he saw his opponent look back over David’s shoulder and smile. David tried to twist out of the way, then saw the larger end of a pool cue headed towards his head. He welcomed it and the oblivion it brought.

When he woke up, he was in an emergency room, staring into Shasha’s face. He felt the evenness of emotion inside her. She wasn’t angry; the emotion he felt from her was curiosity and maybe a little pity. He didn’t like that, but he had learned with a lifetime of sensing other’s emotions that it was a normal reaction.

How did I get here? David asked her.

An ambulance brought you.

How did you get here?

There’s a police report. They found your ID and called your former supervisor who, of course, called me. Shasha lifted her arms in a TADA! Here I am! How are you feeling?

They called Kristen? Shit, I better call her and apologize. I’m in pain, lots of pain. He laid back on the bed, closing his eyes.

Shasha Harrings was with Homeland Security. She was a tall mixed-race woman with a pale complexion. She had a face and figure that turned heads everywhere she went. She was also from one of the wealthiest families on the planet. Shasha’s mother, Natasha, was a brilliant quantum- mechanical engineer and made tons of money with her inventions. Her father was from an old well established, politically powerful dynasty.

Shasha had recruited David six months ago for an investigation that turned out to involve the supernatural. A demon who coupled with someone and then went on a murder spree. They had caught up to the demon as it was spawning others and trapped it inside a cave. One had escaped, though, and coupled with an FBI agent. It was unclear whether the agent had been a willing host or not, and there was no way to research these demons, as they were all now buried deep inside a mountain in South Dakota. David had killed the agent before the demon could kill him, Shasha, and the other two members of their team.

Shasha had done something similar. David still couldn’t reconcile that but had never talked to Shasha about it since they had come back to Chicago. He’d been too busy wrestling with his own guilt.

We need to get you into therapy, Shasha said.

I’ve got my own therapy, thank you.

Yes, I see what your therapy consists of. Getting beat up in seedy bars is not a solution, it’s a temporary relief, an aspirin to mask the pain of an internal injury. Shasha leaned close, then touched David’s face. You need to deal with this. You’re a wreck and of no use to yourself or anyone else until you do.

I’m fine. I just need a little more time. I’ll get it figured out.

The man you beat up. He wants to press charges. She leaned back, crossed her arms. Can you imagine if you get jail time? You’d have lots of fights there once they found out who you are.

You can fix that.

Shasha nodded. I can fix that. You can start working on fixing your issues. Deal?

David sighed and closed his eyes again. He thought about it. Going to jail wasn’t such a horrible idea. Then he realized what he was thinking and couldn’t believe he’d actually think that. He knew better.

Okay. I’ll see the therapist. You tell that guy I’ll apologize and make amends if he’ll let me. I’ll pay whatever to stop this from going to court.

You get well and see the therapist when I set up the appointment. I’ll take care of Douglas Faren.

That’s his name? The guy I beat up?

Yes. Douglas really isn’t a bad guy. He’s no bully as far as I could tell. But he is pretty pissed that you picked a fight with him.

Will he let me apologize?

I’ll ask him. I’m seeing him for dinner tonight.

David wasn’t sure why that should bother him. Shasha was his boss, after all, and they weren’t romantically involved. Still, there was a twist in his insides at the thought of her having dinner, a date, with this guy. He said, I take it he’s not in the hospital?

He was, but he got discharged a few hours ago. Of course, he wasn’t hit over the head with a pool cue. Shasha got up from the bed, then patted David’s cheek. I really don’t like seeing you like this. Please make sure you go to the appointment when I text you the details. Promise?

David felt the affection in her. He was surprised, as he hadn’t thought her capable of feeling something for another human being. She’d been rather non-empathetic for the months he had known her. I’ll go boss. I promise.

Shasha nodded and left. David hit the call button. He wasn’t one for lying around in bed. He needed to get up and out of here.

––––––––

The next day, David kept his promise. He looked around the office that was more parlor than place of business. He didn’t want to be here. The comfortable overstuffed chair, the bookcase, the end table holding nothing more than a box of tissues, the window overlooking Lake Michigan, were all designed to make patients comfortable.

Patient might be something he was in normal circumstances, but the last six months had not been normal. The nightmare, a man with a bullet in his forehead. The glassy surprised look in the man’s eyes when David had shot him.

Agent Seskin, you know you didn’t murder that man, right? Dr. Walton was gray-haired and wore a turquoise-colored suit with matching high heels. She had warm, serious eyes, and David knew that she was an honest person. He detected when people were dishonest. He had always been able to sense people’s emotions. He couldn’t read their minds, but he knew when they were being deceptive and when they told the truth. It was one of the reasons he accepted Dr. Walton. I killed a man. It haunts me. I’m not sure that’s rational, but the facts don’t seem to matter much.

All you can do is keep telling yourself that you saved your team’s lives and your own life by killing Carl Joseph. You couldn’t stop him from killing you or your team any other way. You did what you had to do.

Dr. Walton had been told the official version of the story. Of course, there were no counselors who could be given the real information. David wasn’t sure if that meant anything or if it would have changed his treatment in any way if she had known about the demons. It didn’t seem to change anything for David. He was unraveling no matter what the facts were.

His life had been circling the vortex of oblivion. He found himself fantasizing of a way to kill himself without it looking like suicide. He had tried to go back to the FBI, thinking he’d bury himself in work there, but Shasha wouldn’t let him. She kept him on leave until he could deal with his trauma.

So here he finally was. Dealing with his trauma.

Chapter 3 – A Meeting and Explanations

The following Sunday 7 days after Jason’s death

Chickee, you gotta slow down on the questions. You’re making my head hurt.

Sorry, Grace, I’m just so excited about going to Mass, you know?

Merle, tall, blonde, and very white, was a contrast to the shorter, brown Graciella, who was tall for a Puerto Rican but still nearly a head shorter than Merle. Merle and Grace were the two other members of Shasha’s team of investigators. They had all been a part of the investigation into Rhonda Steppe’s murder spree after she was taken over by a demon.

Grace had lost her love interest, Barbara, to the monster, and Merle had been in the hospital after being shot by Rhonda. Grace, a devout Catholic despite her sexual orientation, had taught Merle how to pray the rosary on a long drive out west, and when Merle was near death, she had met the Blessed Mother Mary in a vision. Merle had never been very religious, as most religions didn’t understand transgender people at best, and at worst, well, Merle simply didn’t allow herself to think about the worst.

After some prompting, Merle had talked Grace into taking her to Mass on Sunday. On Saturday, Grace took Merle to church, where Grace went to confession, telling Merle she couldn’t receive absolution yet. The sacraments were not just handed out to anyone; you had to be a practicing Catholic. Grace explained that each Saturday she would go and confess that she was gay, and then she would get absolution so she could go to Mass and get Communion, another Catholic sacrament, maybe the most important one. Now they were headed into the church for Mass.

Merle was wearing a big flowery hat which Grace just shook her head at, and they were both dressed tastefully in dresses, heels, and suitable purses. Upon entering the church, Grace showed Merle how to dip her fingers in the holy water at the back of the church, make the sign of the cross, then before entering a pew, genuflect to the tabernacle.

Merle was confused by all the standing, sitting, and kneeling that went on. It seemed designed to keep people from falling asleep. There was a sermon much like she had heard in the Presbyterian church of her youth. The priest spoke about charity, and the readings from the Bible were centered on that topic. Merle enjoyed being in the church. It had a calmness, a centered quality she had trouble describing with her head but felt strongly in her heart.

Afterwards, they went to a restaurant for brunch. Merle had a lot more questions. Grace answered what she could but then finally had enough.

Look, chickee, if you wanna be Catholic you have to go to classes and learn all this stuff. Probably more stuff than I know, right? I mean I think it’s kind of like being from another country and becoming a citizen. You gotta learn stuff the people who grew up with it don’t know or forgot after history class was over. You want to be a Catholic?

I talk to Mary once in a while, I guess I should be Catholic, shouldn’t I?

I’m pretty sure the Blessed Mother was Jewish, Grace said.

I know, but Catholics seem to have more of a reverence for Mary than other Christians.

Grace took a slice of bacon and bit into it. She chewed thoughtfully, then said, Look chickee, being Catholic is more than just the religion, it’s a culture thing. There are rituals and stuff. Kinda like being Jewish, you know? When you aren’t born into it, you have to learn a bunch of things. You want to do that?

Merle nodded. I want to be close to the Blessed Mother.

You already are close. Closer than me, and I pray to her every day, Grace said, with no trace of jealousy. I’ll set you up. I think you need a sponsor, but Father Mike will be okay if it’s me, I think.

Why wouldn’t he?

Because Catholics frown on the LGBTQ. You and me, being transgender and gay? Some priests won’t talk to us. Some will but look at us as sinners, and some accept us and do their best not to make a big deal out of it. But Father Mike, we grew up together. He knows me, he knows my family. He gives me absolution every Saturday so I can get communion with a clear conscience every Sunday.

Then set it up. I’ll go meet Father Mike.

Just one thing, chickee. Don’t say nothing about your meeting the Virgin Mary, okay? At least for a while. Let Father Mike get to know you before you spring that on him.

Okay.

Their phones signaled incoming texts. They both looked and found a message from Shasha to meet at Tivoli Place as soon as they could come.

You wanna go home first to change? Grace asked Merle.

I’m fine. I’m sure Harry will love to see us dressed up. Harry owned Tivoli Place with his wife, Merry. They were small of stature and looked a little like twins. Both had bright cheerful dispositions, which Harry hid when he greeted strangers to his restaurant. For some reason, they discouraged outsiders from eating in the establishment. Merle had no idea how they stayed in business, but they were always there to greet her when she stopped by for a meal. Harry was an old friend of Shasha’s father. Shasha considered him family.

They arrived early and entered under the green awning covering the entrance to the restaurant. Harry greeted them with his dazzling smile. Welcome my girls! It’s good to see you. He looked them over.

Just came from Sunday service I see?

From Mass. You like my hat? Merle touched the giant flowery construction and turned one way then the other to model it for him.

Harry clapped his hands and let out a sound of joy. It’s wonderful Merle! Where can I get one?

Merle laughed, then saw he was being serious. She touched his arm and said, I’ll give you the website before I leave if you promise not to get the same design.

Harry gave her a radiant smile and a nod, then led them to a back room where a table for four had been set up. They ordered coffee.

Won’t you have something to eat? Harry asked them.

Sorry Harry, but we were eating brunch when we got the message to come here for a meeting. Just coffee.

Well, I’ll bring a plate of Merry’s cakes in case you want to nibble. He left then returned with coffee and a thermos carafe. He set them down. Enjoy, Shasha and David should be here soon.

Shasha and David showed up together a few minutes later. Harry brought them both coffee and another carafe. A waiter followed him and set down a selection of small cakes with different brightly colored frosting. Merle wondered how the waiter made any money. She was dressed in expensive shoes and a designer outfit, though it was obviously a uniform, Merle knew her tailors.

When they left, Shasha spoke up.

We haven’t had a case since South Dakota, and I thought we should get together and stay in touch as a team. She sipped her coffee. David spoke up.

Maybe you could tell us why we’re on the team. Why did you choose us?

Merle sensed some turmoil in his words. She knew he was still beating himself up about killing a fellow FBI agent during their last case. She prayed to the Blessed Mother that he find peace with it. Apparently, that had not happened yet.

Shasha sipped more coffee and looked at each of them. Is anyone hungry? Should we order lunch?

Grace and I were eating when you texted us.

I’m fine. David sat back and crossed his arms. Merle could see there were wounds on his knuckles. They looked fresh

Okay then, let’s start with you David. I think it’s rather obvious why you were picked.

How did you know I could read emotions?

I’ll get to that. Your ability to sense what others are feeling is an advantage to what our work is. You can tell us when someone is lying, when something evil might be buried in someone that the rest of us can’t quite see.

It sure helped us stay alive in South Dakota, Grace said. Merle touched her leg, pinched her a little. Grace turned to look at her. What? What’d I say? David saved us more than once by knowing what was going on in someone’s head chickee.

Merle just shook her head at her, then looked at Shasha to continue. She didn’t have to look at him to know David was frowning.

Merle, you’re here because you also have a gift. It took almost dying for you to find it, but your connection to the... Shasha hesitated, seemed to be searching for a term other than the one on the tip of her tongue, then found it, other world came in very helpful to us in those caves.

Merle nodded. She had brought the Blessed Mother with her to South Dakota. The demons were trapped in the caves with help from the Mother of God. How did you know?

Shasha looked at her, What do you mean?

How did you know I had this connection? I didn’t even know it.

I’ll get to that. But you must be aware that your connection isn’t only to the Mother of God, she is just a manifestation of the power that lives there.

I don’t know what you mean. Merle was confused. Power that lives there?

You will as you learn more. Let’s just leave it at you have more of a connection than you know of.

What about me chickee? I don’t have no supernatural power. Grace asked, putting air quotes around the last two words. Why am I here?

Grace, my love, you are our warrior. You are fearless when there’s trouble. Like with that bear that was about to kill us out there in South Dakota. You just ran right under it, no hesitation, and you shot it dead. Saved us all dear Grace. You are our hero, the sharp end of the spear, so to speak. Shasha smiled at Grace, Merle saw Grace shift in her seat. Shasha had this immense charisma as well as her beauty. It was difficult not to be drawn and attracted to her.

I’m no hero, I just do what needs to be done. Grace shifted again. So what about you? How do you know so much about us? How did you find us?

Merle was sure all three of them wanted an answer to that.

Fair enough. Shasha looked at each in turn. I see the future.

David snorted. Grace gave a short sharp laugh. Merle smiled, knowing it was truth.

Shasha nodded at all three in turn. Yes, I know. It’s not exact, and it’s always in pieces but what I need to know, I just know. She shrugged.

Like you have visions? David asked her. He was frowning, but Merle thought that was more his act then what was in his heart.

Not really, not like looking into a crystal ball. It isn’t like I know who’s going to win the World Series or which stock is going to start performing well. It’s just when I need something, it’s there in my head. When I was commissioned to form this team, all of you came into my mind. I knew you were members, and I knew why. She shrugged. You’ve all seen how I can be persuasive. A large part of that is when I need to know something about someone, what makes them tick, what they want, it comes to me. I just know it and sometimes I use it.

So, is that how you got to be in charge of a team that hunts paranormal villains? Merle asked her.

Shasha nodded. Partly yes, but most of that is my family connections. My grandmother, on my father’s side, is from a very prominent family. She has deep roots in a world where everyone knows everyone else. They went to the same schools, summered in the same villas, are connected in dozens of ways that contribute to and hold on to the power that runs the nation, and most of the world as well.

Merle goggled at Shasha. So, you’re part of the shadow government?

Shasha laughed. It’s really not that sinister. Rich people run the world. She shrugged. They always have. Sometimes the power shifts but in the end, it always comes down to a few in control.

And you are part of that. David sounded skeptical.

Well, you might guess that because of my racial heritage, that would be impossible, and you would be correct to a certain point. But the faces of the powerful have been slowly changing. Myself, my grandfather and father before me, are part of that change.

She looked at the cakes. Anyone else think these things look really good? She took one and bit into it, closing her eyes and savoring as she chewed.

Merle took one and bit into it while mulling over what she had just been told. The cake was delicious, but Merle was preoccupied and wasn’t really listening to the conversation. She sipped her coffee and thought about power. She was going to have to think a lot more about what this all meant.

Chapter 4 – Grandfather’s Land

Two years earlier

Jack parked near the back of the parking lot, as was his habit. Since his heart attack two years ago, he was doing his best to be proactive about his health, so he could use the extra steps. The small office building in front of him housed his grandfather’s lawyer, Mr. Agee. Jack had come to hear the terms of his grandfather’s will.

Weeds were starting to sprout here and there in the cracked asphalt. A sign of the times. As corporate America sliced up bigger pieces of the economy, places like this, catering to small businesses, and professionals, were fading.

His grandfather Earl, who still went by their indigenous last name of White Feather, had run a trucking company for many decades, one that had employed close to 500 people at one point. But most of the company’s business had been hauling wood out of the hills of Colorado, and that business was drying up.

Jack chafed at the tie around his neck. He had on a checkered print shirt, black tie, navy sports coat, and matching pants. His shoes were old, and he had shined them last night. He brushed back his graying hair and thought about his family. Three kids now grown, one in college studying biology, the other two working the business with their father.

Jack’s father had taken his family and left Colorado for Washington, D.C. a long time ago. As soon as Jack had graduated high school, he had come back to live with his grandfather. The rest of the family had no interest in their roots out here. They had all become city dwellers. But Jack loved the forests. He had expanded the operation from simply hauling the wood out to cutting and selling wood to the mills.

Because of beetle infestations, stricter environmental rules, and thinning forests, his business had gone downhill in the last few years. Hilly, his youngest child and only daughter, was the office manager and oversaw employment. She hadn’t hired anyone in over two years now. Most of her job was finding ways to cut costs, often by having to lay off workers, some of whom had worked for Jack’s grandfather.

Jack pulled open the glass entrance door to the building and walked to the elevator. He rode up to the third floor and walked out and down the hall to one of the offices. Entering, he greeted the receptionist.

Morning, Maggie, how are ya?

Just fine, Mr. Gant. Maggie was in her twenties, Jack supposed. He wished he could remember when working people, obviously adults, started looking like kids to him. Maggie had a bright smile and an attractive face. Since his divorce, Jack couldn’t help noticing attractive women of every age, but he kept his thoughts buried.

Is Mr. Agee in?

Yes sir, he’s waiting for you in his office. You know how to get there? Jack nodded.

Maggie smiled. The console made that chirp buzz sound that so many receptionist desk phones made. Maggie hit a button, and her attention left Jack for the new call.

Jack went down the carpeted hall into Agee’s office. Harold Agee had been the family’s lawyer longer than Jack could remember. He had to be in his seventies now. Jack walked into the office, and Harold stood to shake his hand.

Morning Jack, it’s good to see you. My condolences about your granddad. He was more than a client to me you know.

Yes, sir. Grandad often spoke of you as a friend.

I’ve got everything set up in a conference room. This way. Harold moved with ease. He was athletically built and still in good shape for his age, despite the fact he ate regularly at fast-food restaurants and had a penchant for an after-work cocktail or two.

Jack followed Agee into the conference room. There was a screen on one wall and a remote control sitting on the table.

I’m going to close the door, Jack. Your grandfather left specific instructions that the video was for your eyes only.

Jack looked at the remote. Sure, Mr. Agee. I just press play on this thing?

Yes. When you’re finished, just come see me in my office. Agee left after shutting the door to the conference room. The window blinds on the hall side and the ones overlooking the parking lot had been pulled. The lighting was muted but not dim.

Jack sat and pressed play. His grandfather appeared, his face right in the camera. He squinted and then moved back to sit in his favorite chair. Once he was seated, he began.

Hello Jack. If you’re seeing this, well, you know. I’m recording this so that you understand what’s in the will. Everything goes to you; your father doesn’t want it and none of my other kids are interested. His grandfather frowned a bit and looked away, then looked back into the camera. It’s all yours. The company, the house, the land. But I want you to understand about the land, Jack.

There’s property up on White Pine Rd that I know you have always wanted to know about. It’s over 250,000 acres of hardwood. I want you to know the story now so you can keep it protected, keep the world protected from it actually. The story is long, so get settled wherever you are, probably in Agee’s office I imagine, and prepare yourself. He saw his grandfather sigh, look off in the distance for a moment, then begin his story.

"When I was a young boy, my father took me up White Pine Road to tell me this story about that land. I wanted to go hunting in there, but my father told me it was sacred land, and haunted. It was an evil place, where if people stayed in too long, it would make them do evil things.

"He told me when white settlers first moved our way, they were told to leave that forest alone. One of them, a man named Isaiah Pinot, disregarded that warning. Isaiah was always a curious man. He couldn’t help himself. When he hiked into those woods, he saw the makings of his own house. The trees were perfect for what he wanted to build.

"He constructed a road, still there today, and using oxen, he was able to haul out enough of the hardwood from that forest to build himself a large house. Our ancestors made sure to stay away from Isaiah and his house. They told Isaiah that taking trees from that sacred forest was a bad idea. Isaiah, of course, didn’t believe them. They were nothing more than ignorant savages in his mind. Their stories about evil spirits were all folly to him.

"About a year after the house was built, people noticed that Isaiah and his family quit coming into town. It was usual for the family to travel in on Sundays, attend