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    Night Ritual
    Night Ritual
    Night Ritual
    Ebook300 pages5 hours

    Night Ritual

    By Dallas Releford

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    During a violent power struggle between political factions and a drug cartel in a small West Virginia town, Nick Strong is almost killed while engaged in a drug sting operation. His partners killed, he is wounded but manages to see the face of the drug lord as he sits in his Cadillac. He is unable to distinguish the true identity of the man because his face is blotted in Nick’s memory. After months of painful therapy he resigns from the police force and starts his own detective agency. Appalled because he cannot recall the identity of the drug lord, he becomes depressed. His wife, Gloria divorces him. He turns to alcohol and almost loses his business. Kelly Lance, a new addition to his staff manages to rescue him from his dilemma. A few months later, his sister is killed in a bizarre multiple murder.
    Before he can recover from the loss of his sister, he receives a call from a friend asking him to come to his restaurant and bar. Olen Snow is worried that something is going to happen. Nick is surprised when he finds Kelly there, especially when he discovers that she has received a call from a stranger telling her about a murder that will occur there that night. They find two men dead in the dining room and three employees in the storage locker. All have their throats cut leading the detectives to believe that they are confronted with a cult of some kind.
    With the arrival of Lt. Vernon Crowe of the Charleston Police Department, they discover that most of the people killed were Nick’s friends. They also become aware that several employees left early. Knowing these employees might be able to tell them who was in the bar, they attempt to track them down before the killers realize they may be a threat to them. Carla Bannister, one of the bar’s employees tells them that Mayor Horace Kendall held a meeting at the restaurant. She names most of the people that were there before a killer walks into her kitchen and shoots her.
    When Crowe confronts Kendall, the mayor tells him that all of the men were alive when he left the restaurant. According to Carla Bannister, two of the men worked for Mark Sorenson a wealthy real estate developer. He is involved in building a mall outside of town. Knowing the mayor’s dubious reputation—and his habit of dabbling where money can be made—they begin investigating Mark Sorenson, the real estate developer. On the way to Sorenson’s house, Nick remembers the face of the man he saw in the car that night. It is Sorenson. At his eloquent house, Mark Sorenson makes a couple of mistakes indicating he knows more about the murders than he is revealing. As they leave, the butler (Joe Lawrence) warns them to be careful and discloses that he is the informer.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDallas Releford
    Release dateAug 5, 2011
    ISBN9781465821454
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      Book preview

      Night Ritual - Dallas Releford

      Night Ritual

      By

      Dallas Releford

      Published by Dallas Releford at Smashwords.com

      NIGHT RITUAL

      Copyright (C)2010 Dallas Releford

      This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, places, events, organizations, areas, or locations are intended to provide a feeling of authenticity and are used in a fictitious manner. All other characters, dialogue and incidents are drawn from the author’s imagination and shouldn’t be accepted as real.

      No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without explicit permission from the author or publisher except in brief quotations used in an article or in a similar way.

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The ebook may not be re-sold or given to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. if you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.

      Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

      This book is dedicated to my wife Sharon and to my family doctor, Dr. Rashid Khan. I would also like to thank my agent, Harriett Smith and my business manager, Martin Smith for their help in the preparation of this manuscript.

      Sadly, my wife, Sharon passed away on August 10th, 2010 after four years of battling ovarian cancer. She is dearly missed and will always dwell in my heart and mind. This world is not the same without her.

      * * * * *

      NIGHT RITUAL

      A Nick Strong Mystery

      Chapter 1

      After two long months of research, she finally had all the facts and names to prove that organized crime did indeed exist in Charleston, West Virginia. As dark clouds hovered over a gloomy landscape, she wondered if presenting that information to a special committee organized by Judge Henderson would really have any affect on the endless, senseless violence that paraded across the city on a daily basis. Violent crime was sucking all the resources from city coffers right down a black hole that seemed to go on forever. Within a year, if something were not done, the city government would be bankrupt and helpless to prevent any further actions on the part of organized criminals.

      Jumping like a scared frog when the weather radio on her cluttered desk activated announcing a major snowstorm that had the potential to drop twelve inches of snow on the already financially strained city, she punched the button that silenced it. It was October for Christ’s sake. It was too early for snow. It wasn’t even Halloween yet. That holiday was more than two weeks away. They normally didn’t have snow before Thanksgiving, much less Halloween. In fact, she hadn’t even had much time to think about anything except spending her extra time as a criminal researcher gathering material for the committee that had been organized by Judge Matthew Henderson with the help of two city councilmen.

      Working as a librarian at the city library, she really loved her job helping other folks find knowledge that would make them better than they had been before. However, she had always been fascinated by the criminal mind and had wanted to become an investigator for a private detective agency or maybe even become a police officer. None of those things had been possible for her because of a bad leg injury she had received in an automobile accident when she was sixteen years old. Her old Dodge Dart Swinger, a gift from her father on her sixteenth birthday, had gone off the road and into a ditch during a heavy snowstorm. She had always hated snow since that day and tried to avoid it as much as she could.

      Studying criminal law and doing extensive research on organized crime, drug dealers and violent crime, she had founded a part time business working at home doing research and investigations for lawyers in the city. With a two-year degree from a local college, she had become well known in the community. Her association with local law enforcement and the court system allowed her to be appointed as a researcher for Judge Henderson’s special committee. Her expertise in the field provided her with the know-how needed to come up with evidence critical to doing something about the lawless element in the city. Marci Dover was sure she could convince Judge Henderson that something had to be done. The names on her list were enough to convince anyone, including the State Attorney General. Marci cringed when she thought about how dangerous the two stuffed red folders on her desk were. People would kill her if they knew she had evidence that could send them to prison for a long time.

      A quick glance at a clock on her desk warned her that it was almost time to put her fears aside and do the job she had been hired to do. Stuffing the folders and her cell phone in a leather-carrying bag, she locked her office and hurried down a long hallway in the library where she worked. A few minutes later, Marci arrived at her car in the parking lot. Sitting in the Chevrolet Impala waiting for the engine to warm a little and for the defroster to do its job of cleaning a thin layer of ice from her windshield, she looked at herself in the rearview mirror. At thirty-two years old, she had long brown hair, deep blue eyes and a light complexion that never seemed to retain a suntan. Feeling her hip ache just a little, she shifted her position so the pain wasn’t so prevalent. Since her accident, the hip that had been dislocated gave her the most difficulty when it was going to rain, or snow. A few minutes later she drove toward an office building in downtown Charleston to a secret conference.

      Fifteen minutes later, Marci entered a building where the secret meeting would take place. The only other people that knew about the meeting were Judge Henderson and two members of city council, Mack Sloan and Warren Peters. She knew they wouldn’t tell anyone, not even their wives and that thought made her feel much better as she opened a door and entered a conference room. The secretary sitting at the desk in the lobby smiled at her and waved her on. Obviously, all the others had already arrived.

      Morning, she said as she glanced at each of the men and dropped her bag on the long table. Judge Henderson, a graying man who stood almost six-feet tall returned her greeting and smiled at her. Warren Peters made a comment about her cheerful smile as he always did. He was a married man in his forties who bragged about his children, grandchildren and the fact that his wife was expecting again. Warren was a family man with priorities. He wanted to have the largest family in town and wanted all of his kids to be in politics. Mack Sloan looked up from his reading and told her she looked lovely. Want some coffee? It’s the best the house has to offer, he boasted.

      Sure, she answered. Are you serving?

      Of course, Sloan assured her. I’m here to serve the people and you’re the prettiest people I’ve seen all day.

      Before she could answer, Warren Peters spoke. Now, look here, Mack. Are you saying that you don’t appreciate your fellow councilmen? Why, none of us look as good as Miss Dover. We all admit that, don’t we Judge Henderson?

      Judge Henderson smiled and decided not to become involved in the discussion. Turning to Marci as she seated herself at the table, he asked, Did you bring all the ammunition, Marci?

      Opening her satchel, she pulled out two fat, red folders and shoved them toward him. He sat at the head of the table. She was across the table from Mack Sloan and Warren Peters. Its all there, Judge Henderson, enough proof to put a few major players in this town behind bars for a long time. I had to really dig hard to get most of the information. We have to be careful, you know. We’re dealing with some pretty big fish.

      Pushing his dark-rimmed glasses up on his nose, he opened the folders and his smile slowly faded from his face. You’ve got to be kidding, Marci.

      Not at all, she replied in her own defense. As you can see, the figures substantially confirm every claim that I have made. Those names are involved in organized crime, drug dealing and outright violence. I have the proof that we need to arrest each of those people.

      Great job, he said as he shoved the first folder to Mack Sloan after he had thoroughly studied it. Rubbing his forehead as if he were totally exhausted, Judge Henderson sighed and took her hand in his. We have to be careful. I’ll take this information to the Attorney General tomorrow and get warrants for each of those people. This is too much for us to handle at a local level. We don’t know how many people are working for the other side that should be working for us. I don’t even trust the mayor, the prosecuting attorney or half of the damned police force. In fact, Marci, I don’t know who to trust. This is a big operation and it explains many things that have happened around here including how our glorious mayor managed—

      Before he could finish, they heard a faint scream outside the door. Sloan dropped the file on the table and stood up. Seconds later, the door to the conference room burst open and four men with ski masks stood staring at them with evil eyes. Two of them had guns and two had long, sharp knives. Marci tried to scream and couldn’t. Something was stuck in her throat preventing anything from escaping.

      Marci could barely turn her head toward the four men standing not more than a few feet from them. A cold blanket of coldness dropped down over her turning her into an instant ice cube incapable of thinking, of speaking or screaming. Terror enveloped her like a giant hand that had suddenly dropped down and squeezed her tight.

      Did you really think you could take action against us and that we would stand by while you destroyed our organization? The man with the long knife, evil eyes and a voice she recognized at once walked toward her. His mask could conceal his face, however his voice was as identifiable as that of any rock star she had ever heard. How could he do this, she wondered as he stood above her, staring at her. She was speechless.

      How dare you barge in here like this, Judge Henderson stormed. This is a private meeting and you can bet that the Attorney General will hear about this before the day is over.

      I’m sure he will, the man said walking over to where Judge Henderson sat. Standing behind him, he grabbed his long gray hair with one hand while placing the sharp knife on his throat. Unfortunately, you won’t be around to know one way or the other. After we kill all of you, the evidence you have collected will disappear and nobody will be able to prove anything.

      Marci couldn’t believe it. This was preposterous. She must do something and do it now. Drumming up all the strength she could, summoning courage she wasn’t aware of, she stood up and faced the man with the knife. Leave him alone and leave here, she screamed. She wasn’t afraid now, at least not as much as she had been. Her anger had taken over and driven her fear into the back of her mind, for now. Knowing that if she let them get away with it, all her hard work would be for nothing, she tried hard to think of something she could do. The criminals would rule Charleston and its citizens would be at their mercy. Get out of here before the police arrive, she demanded. I’m calling them right now. Reaching into her satchel, she pulled out her cell phone just as one of the other men grabbed her long hair and jerked her head backward. Cold steel pressed against her throat. She knew she was going to die when the man she recognized slit Judge Henderson’s throat and blood trickled down his neck just as he struggled for his last breath. Then she felt the pain of the knife blade ripping across her throat and gasped for breath as the darkness surrounded her.

      Jennifer Caudill, the longhaired beautiful blonde secretary who worked for the company that managed the offices for several clients in the building had managed to escape out a side door when she saw the armed men. She was now in the street screaming for help at the top of her voice and walking frantically back and forth in front of the building. As people began to notice her and respond to her frenzied incantations, she tried to explain what had happened. With great effort she asked them to call the police except nobody in the poor section of town seemed to have a cell phone. Finally, a man dressed in a business suit and carrying a briefcase told her that he had a phone and he had called 911. As the crowd grew and people began discussing what had happened—based on scant information she had given them—Jennifer drifted away to look for a telephone booth, something that was indeed hard to find these days. Then, she remembered that there was an old coin-operated phone in a booth on the corner up the street by the bar. Walking hastily away from the rumormongering crowd, she made her way through growing pedestrian traffic to the booth. Inside, she dropped a few coins into the slot and dialed a number.

      Everything went fine, she assured the person on the other end of the line. It happened just as you said it would. Yeah, they came and they’re still in there. I told a lot of people in front of the office building what happened. There’s quite a crowd there now. Someone dialed 911 and that action in front should create enough of a diversion so your people can get out the back when they’re finished.

      She listened intently as the other person explained about how grateful they were for her help and how she would be rewarded for her efforts. Jennifer felt a warm glow build in her heart as she realized that these people were going places and that she was destined to go to great heights with them. Why, even the person on the other end of the telephone line had admitted that without her they could have never pulled it off. She didn’t know what his name was except she had met him in the park a few days earlier and he had immediately acquired her services. Jennifer considered herself lucky that she had been in the right place at the right time. Opportunities like this didn’t come along everyday. With the right friends, she wouldn’t have to be a secretary for the rest of her life. Hadn’t her father told her to surround herself with knowledgeable and rich people and she would go far in this world. It seemed that he had been right.

      Yeah, I’m quite satisfied with the money you paid me. You don’t have to do anything else. What? Oh, you don’t have to do that, really. Turn around? Did you say that someone is bringing my reward to me? I can assure you that you don’t have to do that.

      Jennifer turned around in the phone booth so she could tell the delivery person to take the flowers, candy and perhaps an envelope containing an undisclosed amount of money back to whoever sent it. Fine, he’s here now, she said into the receiver. I’ll tell him to take it back to you. I don’t deserve so much for so little that I did. Great. Thanks, I’ll see you again sometime.

      She had never seen the man’s face in the first place, except she liked to think that he was tall and handsome. After all, it wouldn’t be quite correct to dream about marrying the head of such a large organization and sharing all his wealth without knowing a little about what he looked like. That day in the park, he had remained behind a tree and talked to her on his cell phone. It had been a delightful conversation. She placed the receiver in the cradle and swung the doors open. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, she waited until the deliveryman arrived.

      You can take it all back, she said. I don’t want it and the person that sent it said that it would be okay.

      Can’t do that, the deliveryman replied as he stood in front of her holding a long flower box in his hands. The organization always rewards its star performers with a little something extra. Here, let me show you what you’re trying to turn down. Once you’ve seen it, I’m sure you will change your mind. There is more in the van, as you might have imagined.

      Jennifer stepped closer curious as to what was in the box. If she didn’t like it, she could always return it to the deliveryman who seemed like a nice person. Did he belong to the organization, too? The deliveryman smiled at her. She grinned delighted that he was part of the same organization that had hired her. Maybe she would be part of it someday, if they decided to use her services again. And, why wouldn’t they? Hadn’t she given them her best effort?

      The deliveryman held the box with one hand as he pulled the lid off with his other hand. The lid fell to the ground and Jennifer froze when she saw what was in the box. Before she could respond, he pulled a large black automatic with a black silencer on it out of the box and shoved the end of the barrel between her breasts. Before she could pull in another breath of fresh air, she felt sharp pain in her chest and felt her heart stop beating as a loud explosion tore through her eardrums. Darkness dominated her as she died.

      The deliveryman looked around. The street was vacant except for a couple of cars and they were going down the street away from him. Smiling, he dropped the flower box and the gun on the ground beside her. Yes, sir, the organization always rewards good performers and you’re one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. Too bad you were only scheduled for one performance. Without another word, he walked hastily back to his brown van and drove up the street past the crowd that was becoming unmanageable in front of the office complex. He was confident that the gloves he wore prevented any fingerprints or telltale evidence to appear on the gun and the box he had handled so carefully. Picking up his cell phone from the passenger seat, he dialed a number and told his boss that the hit team was now out of the building and that all witnesses had been eliminated. In the distance, he heard sirens as he turned the corner and headed out of town. Before night, the van would be exchanged for a nice new Impala and he would be on his way to Georgia where a new house and a new life awaited him.

      When he stopped at the red light trying to appear as any other citizen, he grinned as he watched curious people stop to look as fire engines, rescue squads and police vehicles sped by them. He was on top of the world and he knew it. With more than half a million dollars in a briefcase in the back of the van, he was set for life. Almost as curious as the people on the street, he decided that he could not wait until he exchanged vehicles to inspect his money. Pulling into an abandoned lot between two decaying, red brick buildings, he turned the engine off, looked around to make sure he wasn’t being watched and crawled into the back of the delivery van. The briefcase was brown and looked new. Opening the lid, he stared at a case full of newspapers. Lifting one of the bundles of paper, cut to look like a stack of dollar bills, he couldn’t believe that they had cheated him. They will pay for this, he cursed. Before he was done testifying against them, they would wish they had never heard his name. Tossing the useless paper aside, he picked up another bundle and then another. Then he saw the bomb just a few seconds before it exploded sending burning pieces of the van and charred body parts all over the parking lot, onto the buildings and even on the roofs of the buildings. The organization always rewarded star performers.

      * * *

      Standing in front of the door to Snow’s Bar and Restaurant he turned the doorknob and stepped into the cold, gripping hands of death. He could smell it all around him. It was as familiar as the aftershave he splashed on his face every morning of his life. The building was familiar to him, too. He had been here many times, although he normally came here to eat. Snow’s Restaurant was quite popular in the community. His reason for being here now was quite different. This was his first visit at one o’clock in the morning.

      He hesitated. Standing in the lobby with his eyes staring into darkness, his ears listening for a hint that someone was in the building, he wondered where everyone had gone. Why had Olen Snow, the owner of Snow’s Bar and Grill called him at twelve-thirty on a cold October morning? The man sounded desperate and had insisted that Nick Strong come right away. Promising that he would leave the front door open for him, the only thing he offered to explain his anxiety was that something was going to happen. The fact he left the door open for Nick suggested that Snow was anxious for Nick’s presence. It also suggested that Olen Snow expected trouble and that he anticipated that he might not be able to come to the door when Nick arrived. Nick had known Snow for a long time and considered him a friend. However, the way Snow talked, he was in grave danger. Nick didn’t like walking into places where danger lurked without knowing what was going on. Why was Snow being so mysterious about the entire situation, he wondered as he stood quietly in the lobby of Snows Bar and Restaurant.

      They were waiting for him in the darkness. He could smell the scent of blood, taste the danger that surrounded him and hear them breathing. Nick Strong, private detective didn’t know how many of them there were in the room, except he knew it would only take one bullet in his heart to kill him. Even his Colt .45 automatic felt cold and alien in his hand. The world around him felt as barren and dangerous as another planet. No stranger to the horrors of his chosen profession, he stood in the lobby realizing that he had made a grave mistake, one that might put him in his grave. Then he heard movement as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. Someone was standing only a few feet from him. He could smell perfume even though he couldn’t see anyone and that scent had a familiar tinge to it.

      Nick, is that you? Nick?

      The voice sounded sweet to his ears. It was a voice he recognized at once. Wondering why she was speaking when the room was full of people ready to kill him, he thought that she was a hostage and forced to betray him. Kelly, what are you doing here? Searching the wall near him with his hand, he finally found the light switch and turned it on. His eyes hurt when harsh yellow light from overhead flooded the room. As his eyes quickly adjusted to the light, he saw Kelly Lance, his assistant standing near him with an automatic weapon pointed at him. Was she crazy? Then he scanned his surroundings taking into account that the room had not been as dark as he once thought. Before he found the light switch, his imagination, his anticipation of things that might happen had fooled him into thinking that darkness hid unseen enemies. Apparently, Kelly Lance was the only one in the building, except him. Was he becoming paranoid or were the late nights and little sleep getting him down? I’m glad to see you, Kelly. Can you please point that thing somewhere else?

      Sure, she said finally realizing that she was targeting him. I’m sorry, Nick. I didn’t recognize you at first. The situation is the same as the last murder we had around here. A Good Samaritan called me and told me to get over here right away. He said that people were going to be killed, or had already been murdered. I tried to call you at home, except you didn’t answer your phone and your cell phone was turned off. I started to call the police and decided against it since I didn’t know precisely what was going on. I thought this might be another crank call. I just got here a few minutes ago. The lights were out when I arrived, so I came in the service entrance and ended up here in the lobby. That hall leads to the service entrance. I got here too late. She stepped closer.

      Glancing around expecting bad, dangerous men with guns to show up at any moment, he looked at

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