Dawned (Circle of the Red Scorpion Book 3) Read online

  “Did you hear something?” Jake asked.

  “I hear screaming.”

  “Where’s it coming from?”

  Broderick closed his eyes and concentrated. He pointed to the cliff. “It’s coming from below the cliffs near the path.”

  “Surely he would not have gone down there in the dark,” Jake exclaimed. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “I don’t know, Jake. Drake was intent on finding his mother. He has no idea she’s no longer on the property.”

  Broderick and Jake moved closer to the cliffs toward the path they used to get down to the beach. No one in their right mind would go down that treacherous path at night, but the closer they got, the screams grew louder. The mournful wailing sound sobered Broderick immediately.

  “It’s coming from the beach, Broderick,” Jake confirmed. I can hear it too.”

  “Jake, it sounds like Drake. Jesus Christ, I hope he’s not hurt.”

  “Let’s get down there.”

  “Go back to the house, Jake, and call the paramedics just in case. He may need medical attention.”

  “Okay. You be careful going down there.”

  Broderick snorted sarcastically. “That’s the least of my worries.”

  He held his flashlight on the path as he started down the steep incline. In jaguar form, he would have bounded down the path in seconds, but as a human, he was more vulnerable. He could break his neck as easily as any other human. The closer he got to the bottom, the louder the screaming got.

  By the time he got to the bottom, he was running full bore toward the small form huddled in the sand grass and shubbery. Heart-wrenching, mewling cries could be heard over the sound of the waves.

  “Drake, are you hurt?” He leveled the flashlight on his son.

  Drake looked over his shoulder at his father. His face was streaked with dirt and tears. He took deep clipped breaths.

  “It’s…not…me. It’s…mom. She’s…she’s…hurt.”

  “Dear God,” Broderick whispered under his breath. “Please let her be okay.”

  He knelt down beside his son who was cradling his wife’s still, prone body in his arms. Leveled the flashlight on her and gasped. He saw her dirty bruised face, the odd angle of her neck and the vacant look in her open eyes. He didn’t need the paramedics to tell him what he already knew. Elise, the beautiful, vibrant young woman he discovered in the splash pool at Snoqualmie Falls and fell madly, completely in love with was dead.

  ****

  Elise had a private funeral. Broderick did not want anyone there except his son and the Sims. There would be a memorial for her at one of the art galleries in Seattle. The news media stood by the entrance to the cemetery waiting for a glimpse of Broderick and his son. Washington State Police cordoned off the entrance to keep the media out. Broderick heard his son’s cries of agony as he knelt against his mother’s casket.

  “Mommy, please don’t leave me. I need you. I love you.”

  Broderick stood stoically watching his son, too numb to grieve, too numb to feel. Too numb to comfort his son. Instead, Drake cried in Mrs. Sims’ arms as she and her husband led him away towards Broderick’s black Range Rover.

  They were burying an empty casket. Elise’s body was stolen from the hospital morgue before the funeral director could pick it up and prepare her for burial. The dark mahogany casket contained the ceremonial dress she wore at the Moon celebration the day she and Broderick met. Drake added one of his favorite sketches Elise drew for him and the necklace she was wearing the day she died.

  As they left the cemetery, he saw Solomon Blackwell, Emmett Carver, and one of his bodyguards several yards away from the gravesite near the side of a century’s old mausoleum. Solomon’s face was haggard, and it looked as if he hadn’t shaved in days. He was so unlike the arrogant over-confident bastard he showed the world. Was he grieving too? Impossible, Broderick thought. Solomon was responsible for his wife’s death.

  After the funeral and the reading of her will, Broderick shut himself off and avoided contact with his son. Drake reminded him too much of Elise, and he couldn't handle it. He was dead wrong to treat his son that way, but he had nothing left to give him. His heartache was too great; too raw for him to focus on any grief but his own. He wanted to shift and disappear into the forest as his father; Raymond did all those years ago. He understood his father’s need to rely on the beast at a time like this. Being human was too hard. As a jaguar, his needs and desires were simple - eat, sleep and mate. Those desires were unrealistic, especially in his case. He was the District Attorney, and he had cases and a staff he was responsible for.

  He went back to Seattle and his work. He immersed himself in it. The challenging cases kept his mind occupied and left little time to think about her.

  The medical examiner ruled Elise’s case a suicide and closed the case. Broderick wasn’t convinced of that but let it go for the time being. He would revisit it, but he needed time to heal, and that meant pushing thoughts of her out of his mind.

  Unfortunately, his son was a casualty of his new method of surviving. Mr. and Mrs. Sims took care of Drake. Broderick went home on rare occasions, but he didn’t spend time with Drake. Looking at him hurt and reminded him of what he lost. He stayed locked up in his study and instructed his staff that he was not to be disturbed. He hoped one day he could reach out to his son, but as the years passed, the gap between father and son grew wider and wider.

  Broderick spent years believing Blackwell was his wife’s killer. He knew it in his soul. He had to find a way to prove it. Thus far, everything he tried to do to put Blackwell and his gang behind tall, thick prison walls had not worked. He was out of options. When would his vendetta against Solomon Blackwell end? Could he continue to pursue him and still be District Attorney? Was there another way?

  It would take several more years, an unusual sequence of events and an unexpected encounter with his son’s best friend before he had the opportunity he was looking for. The idea was so far out of the realm of possibility; it was the only option that made sense. It was his last chance to finally put Solomon Blackwell away for good and avenge the death of his wife.