Chapter
One
The torturous screeching of twisting metal filled the air as Archer watched in horror. He had just witnessed a passenger train derail at a high rate of speed, scattering the wreckage across the hillside. Not only did he see the crash, but he also spotted the cause. A huge chunk of rail had been removed. He knew instantly that it was no accident. Huge chunks of rail don’t just go missing. That piece of rail was located on a curve, and its absence was intended to create the maximum damage possible.
Archer had been maintaining those same tracks for years, and he’d never seen anything like it. It was sabotage. He was certain of it. Questions about who or why would have to wait until an official investigation. He couldn’t even begin to think who would purposely do something so horrific. Sprinting to the site of the carnage, he immediately went to work, assisting the first responders and rescue teams who quickly descended on the scene.
Amazingly, the worst of the damage was limited to a single car. Unfortunately, there were no survivors in that car. Archer would never forget the sight of the carnage.
The next day, the investigation was well underway. And Archer quickly found himself in the spotlight.
The knock on his front door was loud, rapid, and relentless. Archer flung it open, ready to snap at what he expected to be a salesman.
“Why are you beating the hell out of my door?”
Instead, he was confronted with a badge. “Detective Gravel, lead investigator.” The pudgy, sweaty man pushed his thick-framed glasses up his nose.
“All right. What do you want?”
“You must be Archer Thresher. I just have a few questions. I understand you were working on the rails prior to the accident yesterday. Can you tell me what time you arrived and what the exact nature of the work was?”
“Actually, I was just arriving when the accident happened. I’d been scheduled to perform a routine inspection of the tracks on that curve.”
The investigator barely looked Archer in the eye, quickly scribbling in his notepad. “Uh ... huh. And who scheduled you to be there?”
“I got a message on my phone. The text was from the maintenance shop. They have an automated system that sends them out, but I would guess the shop foreman would be the one to have initiated the message to me.”
“I see. So, you showed up just before the accident, but you really have no idea who told you to be there? Just some automated message? Just before the train derailed. That seems … unusual,” the man said.
“Coincidental, I suppose,” Archer replied, wondering where this line of questions was going.
“On your inspection, didn’t you notice the missing track?” the man asked.
“I told you, I was just arriving when the accident happened. Of course, I saw the track was missing, but only seconds before the train hit that section.”
“Uh ... huh. About the missing section of the track … I happen to have another inspection report that was completed only yesterday. It verifies that the tracks were fine. Or was that also just a coincidence too?”
“I have no idea who or what was done yesterday. I only do my job, not everyone else’s.”
“Speaking of your job, Mr. Thresher. I’ve already reviewed your personnel file. You have a history of conflict. According to your record, you have a reputation for having a short temper. Care to tell me about that or not?” He paused for a minute, waiting to see if Archer would answer. When he didn’t, the man continued on. “See, this is where I stop believing in coincidences or accidents.”
The tone of the investigation was rapidly taking a darker turn than Archer had ever expected. He definitely didn’t appreciate being targeted by this snide, greasy man and his unfounded suspicions. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to explain his past only to have it twisted around on him by a professional asshole.
That is not going to happen.
“Listen, let’s cut to the chase. I had nothing to do with this accident. I don’t know anything about missing tracks or anything else. I was only concerned with rescuing people as soon as I saw the derailment.”
“Fine, let’s both be frank here. Don’t leave town.”
“Is that all?” Archer asked, trying to keep his rage in check.
“For now.” The investigator wedged his notebook into the pocket of his suitcoat, which was clearly two sizes too small.
“Fuck you too,” Archer growled as soon as the man was out of sight. The investigator’s visit was unsettling. The derailment was clearly not an accident, and it was looking like he was being set up to take the fall for it.
But who? And why? Archer racked his brain, trying to figure out who could be behind this, but he kept coming up with nothing but blanks.
Sure, he had plenty of run-ins with his bosses and a few disagreements with a couple of coworkers. His record reflected as much. But each one of those incidents was about his insistence on safety. He was a stickler for it. He would be the last person to ever sabotage the rails.
It made no sense. Nobody would believe he, of all people, could be responsible ... or would they? Perhaps he could be painted as the ultimate disgruntled employee. The questions running through his mind nagged at him.
If any of it was even remotely true, there was no way he’d take the fall for what happened. Knowing the best defense was a good offense, he immediately kicked off his own investigation.
A few basic facts stood out to him. The derailment was clearly engineered. And the nature of the damage meant that whoever was behind it had been targeting a single car ... everything else was collateral damage. It was a start, but more information was needed.
That evening, he turned on the TV to the early news to see a clip from earlier in the day.
“Good evening, my name is Detective Gravel, lead investigator on the recent derailment. At this point, I cannot take any questions due to the nature of the investigation, which is, in fact, a criminal investigation. I can give you some information.
“We’ve determined that the tracks were strategically sabotaged and targeted to cause damage to a specific section of the train. There were two fatalities in the passenger car, which took the brunt of the crash. Both were females who resided in rural Pearl River.
“The victims were Morgana Fox, age seventy-eight, and her sister, Sabrina Fox, age seventy-two. I can also say that we are zeroing in on a person of interest, and I expect to announce an arrest soon.”
“Fuck!” Archer shouted, shutting off the television. Bolting to his room, he grabbed a backpack and stuffed it with as many clothes as he could in the bag. From a metal lock box in his closet, he removed a huge wad of cash ... his entire life savings.
The very mention of the victims’ names sent chills down his spine. He knew them well, as did all the shifters. The women were leaders of a local coven. Morgana and Sabrina were legendary witches with a dark history. Generations older than the ages announced by Detective Gravel, they had long ago negotiated a precarious truce with all the shifters in southern Mississippi, with the consequences being the two’s wrath. Considering their reputation for black magic, their anger was feared. Archer was fucked.
It wasn’t dumpy old Detective Gravel and the law he had to worry about ... running from them would be easy enough. It was the coven he had to worry about. The realization that he was the number one suspect in the deaths of the witches led Archer to pack his bags.