Blood Oath

  Blood Oath

  WILLIAM W. JOHNSTONE

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Epilogue

  Copyright Page

  For all we take we must pay, but the price is cruel high.

  Rudyard Kipling

  From the transcript of a Sheriffs Department taped interview.

  June, 1999

  * * *

  “You have to believe me. No one among us meant the initiation to turn violent. Not at first, that is. God! It never had before. It was ... well, spontaneous. Just got out of hand so quickly no one seemed able, or willing, to stop it. But I’m glad that it’s finally, finally over. Dear God. Brought to light. I’m—all of us—those that are left whole, that is, are so tired of living with this shame, this secret. But, why did—I mean—why the kids? Why now, after all these years? Why this awful thing?

  “Oh, Lord! It just got out of hand, that’s all. None of us meant it. If only that girl hadn’t started crying and fighting. If only her brother hadn’t taken things so seriously and tried to fight the boys. God! It was so long ago. I don’t know ... it’s all so hazy in my mind. But I remember we all went a little crazy, and his actions just seemed to push the boys over the line.”

  Lt. Davis: “Tell me what happened that night.”

  “It was the summer of nineteen seventy three. A beautiful night. So lovely. We were between Denton and Red Bay, just inside the park—”

  Lt. Davis: “What park?”

  “Eureka Park. Right along the shore of Bell Lake. You know, where we all have our lodges. But we were some distance from them. It was just a silly kid initiation, that’s all. We called it the Club of the Elite. You know, that’s what a lot of people called our parents: The Elite Eleven. You remember the club, don’t you, Joe?”

  Lt. Davis: “Yes, I’ve heard of it. I remember it.”

  “We never asked you to join, did we?”

  Lt. Davis: “Go on with your story, please.”

  “You never liked us, did you, Joe? And you still don’t like any of us very much, do you? You thought we were all too wild, didn’t you? Too much money and freedom. Oh, you were always the proper one, weren’t you?”

  No response from Lt. Davis.

  “And you really never liked me especially, did you? Come on, admit it.”

  No response from Lt. Davis.

  “Sure, sure. I know. We were the rich kids from the Hill Section, and you were the poor kid from the wrong side of town. Same old story, different writer. But I never snubbed you. Did I? I was never mean or ugly to you. Was I?”

  Lt. Davis: “It is not my job to engage in personalities. Just tell me what happened back in nineteen seventy-three. You wanted this meeting, remember?”

  “I have to go to the bathroom.”

  Lt. Davis: “Out the door and to your right, just down the hall.”

  “Aren’t you coming with me?”

  Lt. Davis: “I think you can manage by yourself.”

  (Approximately a four minute delay in recording.)

  “I have a question. Are you going to pick up all the others?”

  Lt. Davis: “I don’t know. Probably so. Depends on what you tell me.”

  “How is my husband?”

  Lt. Davis: “He has been taken to the psychiatric ward at Denton General.”

  “I see. I’ve decided I want my lawyer present.”

  Lt. Davis: “That is your right. You have not been charged with any crime, and you have admitted, on tape and in the presence of a police stenographer, that the statements you have given were given voluntarily and of your own free will.”

  “I still want my lawyer.”

  Lt. Davis: “I heard that.”

  Prologue

  June, 1973

  “I’m scared, Paul,” the girl admitted to her twin brother in a whisper. “I just don’t like any of this. I want to go home.”

  He shushed her and attempted to allay her fears, even though he had fears of his own. “It’s just a game, kind of. They’re just trying to scare us. Nothing is going to happen to us-not really. No one is going to hurt you, Judy.”

  I hope, he thought.

  The girl was not convinced, and her hand trembled as she took her brother’s hand. “If you say so, Paul. But I don’t wanna undress down to my panties. That’s not nice. Something might happen that we don’t wanna happen.”

  They were the youngest ever to be initiated into the Club of the Elite. Paul and Judy Evans were thirteen.

  “I don’t know.” Her brother snickered softly, looking around the circle of young boys and girls. “I’d kinda like to see some of these girls without their clothes.”

  “Paul!” she admonished. “Think what Mother and Daddy would think. That’s a dirty thing to say.”

  Then an older boy stood before them. He was sixteen, and he looked at Judy with open lust. He had mean eyes, Paul observed. And he was half drunk, and half naked.

  “Take off your jeans and shirt,” he told Judy. “You, Paul, down to your shorts.”

  Paul had seen the look in the boy’s eyes change as he gazed at Judy, and Paul was wary of this. He felt he and his sister had made a mistake coming here this night. “And if we do that,” he asked. “What next?”

  The older boy shrugged his big shoulders.

  “You take the oath, drink the eagle’s blood, you’re admitted, and then we all go for a swim in the lake.”

  “That’s it?” Paul questioned.

  “That’s it. No big deal at all. Of course,” the older boy said, grinning, “if you’re both chicken... ?”

  Paul slipped out of his jeans and shirt, a painfully thin boy. His ribs were outlined in the flames from the open fire on the shores of Bell Lake. A fish leaped from the water, smacking on impact. A bird called a lonely cry. The wind hummed through the thick timber, sighing a wistful cry.

  I don’t like this, Paul thought. I just don’t like this at all. Something is wrong. Something is going to happen here tonight. I ought to grab Judy’s hand and run away.

  But he did not. Instead, he pushed the youthful premonition of danger from his mind and stood half naked in the center of the circle.

  In that circle of boys and girls, a girl giggled at him, and Paul was embarrassed. He glanced at the source of the giggle and saw the girl was clad only in bra and panties. Paul was further embarrassed when he felt an erection begin to grow. The girl’s eyes were riveted on his crotch. She raised her eyes to his and licked her lips.

  Paul stuck out like a stiff banner.

  Judy slowly undressed, shyly. Paul wanted to yell at her, to tell her to hurry up and get it done! She was being very provocative in her slowness, and the older boy was breathing kind of funny, his eyes on Judy’s tiny breasts. She wore no bra, and her developing nipples were jutting out from fear and excitement. The older boy’s erection was plain, and large.

  Then Paul began to slowly relax as the older boy moved back into the circle and the shadows. The brother and sister took the oath—kind of a silly oath, really—and they were accepted into the very secret Club of the Elite. They were then asked to drink from the sacred cup. They were told it was eagle’s blood, but neither of them believed that. They knew it was vodka and grape juice, but in the semi-darkness, around the flickering fire, the stuff did kind of resemble blood. It was good-tasting; cold and tingly going down. And it made
them both feel good: lightheaded and relaxed. They each had several cups of the mixture.

  “To the lake!” someone shouted. “Everyone to the lake for a dip.”

  Someone turned on a portable radio and the night was filled with music and laughter.

  The boys and girls were all in various stages of intoxication, and they all had to go home pretty soon, so a dip in the cold wa ters of Bell Lake seemed like a pretty good idea: it would sober them up.

  On the banks of Bell Lake an older girl shoved another cup of eagle’s blood in Paul’s hand. He drank it and was falling-down drunk in minutes. After a very short swim in the lake, the boys and girls paired off, Paul finding himself with an older girl. He couldn’t help his condition; he had a full erection just looking at her, with everything she had wetly outlined. She pulled him to the cool bank and kissed him on the mouth, running her tongue over his lips.

  “Do me,” she said, her breath hot and sweet on his face. “Do me!”

  “What?” Paul did not have the faintest idea what she wanted. Surely she didn’t mean That!”

  “Do it to me,” she said, running her fingers across his wet belly.

  “I ... I don’t know what you mean. What do you want me to do?”

  “God, you kids are stupid! Don’t you know anything? Here, let me show you. It feels good.” She pulled off her panties and then helped Paul out of his underwear shorts. She grasped his erection and pumped him for several seconds, while she took his hand and placed it between her legs.

  “Just use your fingers,” she instructed him. “Ah! Right there. That’s it. Play with me and I’ll do you. We don’t really do anything bad, just play around a little bit. Don’t that feel good to you, Paul?”

  Paul admitted, chokingly, that what she was doing to him did feel good.

  But Paul’s first experience at sex was cut short by a scream from his sister. He tried to push the girl from him, but she refused.

  “You can’t leave me like this!” she protested. “I’m almost at the good point, damn you! ”

  “Paul,” Judy screamed. “Paul! Help me!”

  The boy summoned all his strength and pushed the older girl from him. He jumped to his feet, running toward the sound of his sister’s screams. Someone laughed in the darkness, then tripped Paul. He fell hard on the ground, smashing his nose and lips on a log. Waves of nausea flooded him, and he was sick on the ground. He lay dazed and hurt for a few moments, his sister’s screams faint in his ears, as if coming from a far place. It seemed unreal to him, a dream turned into a nightmare. The nightmare filled with real blood and pain and cries for help.

  Paul crawled painfully to his feet, aware that his knees were torn and bleeding. His mouth and nose hurt, and he felt dizzy and sick. He could not understand why all the others were laughing, and why no one wanted to help his sister. Perhaps, he thought, his sister was just acting, this was all part of the initiation.

  But he knew it was real when he spotted Judy, only a few yards away, on the ground, on her back, her pale naked legs spread wide, the older boy who had looked at her lustily between her legs, pushing in and out in a humping movement. Judy was screaming while the other kids, boys and girls, laughed drunkenly.

  “Get off!” a boy yelled. “It’s my turn. You’ve had her long enough.”

  “Yeah,” another boy held his erection in his hand. “We all get a turn-you promised!”

  Paul lurched painfully toward the scene of rape and was once again tripped, this time by a laughing girl. He fell awkwardly, off balance, striking his head on a stone, and was unconscious for a time-how long, he had no way of knowing. When he awakened, strong young hands were holding him to the ground. His mouth was forced open, and straight vodka was poured down his throat. Judy was no longer screaming. Only a grunting sound came from her throat. Some of the young people were staggering about, drunk, laughing and watching the boys taking turns with the rape of Judy.

  More vodka was poured down Paul’s throat, and then stinging slaps were on his flesh. The older boy was beating him with a belt. Some of the others were whipping his sister with belts. Her cries were pitiful in the night. He saw the older boy’s foot draw back, and then there was an explosion in his head. Darkness took him winging away, bright painful lights buzzing in his brain.

  After a time, Paul became only vaguely aware of the voices. He did not know where he was, or what was happening. His head throbbed with pain, and there was a huge lump on the side of his head.

  “Stupid son of a bitch!” he heard a boy say. “She’s dead! What in the hell are we gonna do?”

  “Shut up!” another boy yelled. “Damn you, let me think for a minute, will ya?”

  Who is dead? Paul wondered through the pain in his head. He turned his eyes, looking at the boys and girls. They were in various states of undress, and he did not recognize any of them. He seemed to recall someone screaming at some point, but those screams were now silent, only remaining in his mind, echoing about.

  “Well, I didn’t kill her!” a boy protested. “But we’re all in this together-all of us. You all took turns with her. We all hit her with the belt. It’s her own damn fault, little cockteaser. You all seen the way she was lookin’ at me. She wanted me to fuck her.”

  “Yeah,” a girl said. “It’s not your fault. It’s her fault, all her fault. We know that.”

  Her? Paul wondered. Who are they talking about?

  The radio blared music.

  “Turn off that goddamn radio!” a boy said.

  Silence in the night.

  “What about him?” a boy asked. “He’ll tell on us.” He began to cry. “I don’t wanna go to prison.”

  “Shut up, sissy face!” the hard voice ordered. “We’ll have to do it to him. That’s the only way out.”

  “You mean-?”

  “You got any better ideas?”

  No one spoke. Only the heavy breathing around the almost dead fire. A few coals glowed dimly. A girl began to weep. The sound of a slap and the command to shut up.

  “We’ll have to take a blood oath,” the hard voice said.

  Paul moved his bloody eyes to look at the boy in the dim light from the moon. The boy seemed somehow familiar. An older boy. White flashes of sudden memory blazed through Paul’s brain: a girl, held to the ground, that boy between her legs, doing It to her. Then there were other flashes: the girl on her knees, with his thing in her mouth. Then the memory faded, leaving Paul with only blackness for a past.

  “We’ll have to take a blood oath never to tell anyone! We weren’t here tonight. We were on the other side of the lake. It’s got to be that way. If one tells, we all suffer-go to prison. Maybe get the gas chamber.”

  They all swore, loud and long, that they would never tell of this night.

  Never tell what? Paul wondered.

  “We all have to touch them,” the older boy said. “Touch their flesh. That way we’ll all be a real part of this. That’s the only way to make this stick.”

  One by one, the kids moved to Paul’s side, knelt down, and put their hands on him. They then did the same to Judy. Paul could not move; he seemed paralyzed.

  “Who is going to do ... it?” a girl asked. The voice seemed very far away, as Paul slipped in and out of consciousness.

  “You’re one of the oldest,” a boy said. “And you’re the leader of this club. And you were the first to suggest what we did to Judy. And the belt. So I think you ought to be—you know.”

  “Yeah, that seems fair to me,” a voice agreed.

  “Yeah.”

  “Me, too.”

  As Paul slipped into darkness, he still did not know what was happening around him.

  He awakened when he felt the ground grating painfully against his bare skin. He was being dragged over the ground, the rocks and sticks cutting into his naked flesh. And he was cold. The last thing Paul remembered, other than the stars above him, shining brightly, was the sound of water lapping against the shore. It was a peaceful sound in the night as a f
araway star winked at him. A friendly wink, so the boy returned the wink. Then a tremendous blow struck him on the head. Pain shot through his body. Another blow, harder than the first, plunged him into shades of gray.

  And Paul would remember nothing of this night for years.

  Until one day.

  One

  Denton, Missouri-May, 1999

  “Yes.” The shaken and stunned father made the identification. “That’s my daughter.” The sheet was dropped, covering the battered face of young death. The father put his face in his hands and cried, openly and unashamed. “Oh, God!” he cried. “Why her? Why this way?”

  You’re a great actor, Detective Lieutenant Joe Davis thought, watching the father. You incestuous son of a bitch.

  The father was gently pulled away from the body and out of the cool, antiseptically clean room in the morgue. Joe waited until he pulled his emotions together.

  “Howard, I have to ask you some questions. Sorry, but it’s my job. I know it’s a bad time.”

  “All right, Joe. But can’t it wait a little longer?”

  The two men looked at each other. It was obvious they did not like each other.

  The cop nodded. “All right, Howard.” He looked at his watch. “I’ll come to your house at two this afternoon. Will that be okaya?”

  Howard Jordan nodded his agreement, reluctantly.

  “I’ll want to speak with your wife as well.”

  “She’ll be there,” he said shortly.

  “I’ll see you both then.”

  “Whatever is necessary, Joe.”

  * * *

  Only a few miles separated Denton and Red Bay, Missouri, in the heart of the resort and tourist area, and that distance was practically unnoticeable because of the fast food operations, shopping malls, tourist traps (featuring everything from hillbilly music to live rattlesnakes), gas stations, and sub-divisions. The combined population of the two towns was near forty thousand, so the police departments of both towns linked with and became part of the sheriff’s department of Morrison County, forming the Red Bay/Denton Sheriff’s Department. That move not only gave the citizens more protection, but gave them more professional law enforcement, better trained officers and more equipment.