Sacred Harbor Island - Chapter One

The phone rang, repeatedly.

Jacob Skylar awoke from a dead sleep and reached for it. "Hello?"

A woman's terrified voice: "Jacob! Help! You've got to help us!"

"What?" The former police officer rubbed his eyes and glanced at the flickering clock at his side. "Rick? Is this a joke? It's three am."

"He's ... He's insane!" The voice was impatient, shrill; more so as the connection began to break up. "Jac...! He's going to... ...! You have to come ... Sa ... red ... ! Help her!"

Jacob sat up. "Who IS this?"

"Wait." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Shhh! I think he's there ..."

Jacob tensed. "Who is this? Where are you? I can't help if I don't have a name!" He paused. "Are you there?"

She whimpered. "Yes, I'm here, but you've got to hurry. She's at two-twelve Hickory..." the voice changed to a bone-chilling scream, directed at something on the other end of the line. "No! Please! He has a knife! PLEASE! No...!"

"Hello? Hello! Are you still there?"

His phone had gone dead.

Jacob released a pent-up breath and dropped his head, slamming a hand into the head board. He rose from the bed, walked out the bedroom door and down a dark hall into the kitchen. Cold air surrounded him, but he knew without checking that the window over the sink was secure. He rubbed his arms where the hair was raised and gooseflesh prickled and he paced back and forth behind a sofa. Then, with a curse, he stalked into the bathroom to relieve himself and dash cold water on his face. He went back over the conversation in his mind. None of it made sense.

After forty-five minutes, Jacob returned to the darkened bedroom. He checked the phone to find it still dead.

He stretched, joints and bones popped like fire crackers. Lying down, he tried to decide if he had missed anything. Gradually, his taut muscles began to relax. His eyelids fluttered and he gave in to much-needed sleep. At his side, the signal light on the phone winked into life and gave off a solitary, signifying beep.

In the still hours of the night, the phone rang.

As Jacob rolled over, its yellow-green glow held his attention as he picked up the handset.

A woman's terrified voice: "Jacob! Help! You've got to help us!"

Jacob slammed down the phone and broke into an icy sweat. As a logical man, he could only accept rational explanations for these nightly calls. But for the life of him, he couldn't think of a single one.

This was the third week he'd received the sinister calls. He knew only one person who lived at an address marked two-twelve Hickory - his aunt in Sacred Harbor. When he'd checked in with her the last two weeks, he'd found her doing well and puzzled by his calls. What troubled him most was the voice on the phone. It was his grandmother; a woman who had been dead more than six years.

It was late when Jacob left the gym. He checked his phone; three missed calls. They could wait, he was starving. He hefted a black Nike bag over his shoulder and headed for his truck.

After stopping by a Burger King, he entered his apartment, and placed two steaming half-pound double cheeseburgers on a thin paper plate. They looked too good to eat, but he managed. Letting out a loud belch, he kicked back in his recliner with a cigarette and turned on the TV set. He felt great. He'd slept like a log the last two nights with no crazy late-night calls. He'd worked himself like a Trojan at the gym tonight and was exhausted. A quick shower and his bed would feel like heaven.

He never made it to the shower or the bed, but fell asleep where he lay. At 10:33, the phone rang, startling him. He looked at the receiver with suspicion, then reached over and picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Jacob! I hope I'm not calling too late? It's Aunt Sue."

Jacob relaxed back into his chair. "Yeah." he said, laughing. "I recognize your voice. We've talked how many times recently . . . four? Five? Seems like I haven't talked to you or Uncle Joe for twenty-five or thirty years and then all of a sudden."

"That's what I'm calling about, Jacob, your Uncle Joe. He's dead."

Jacob sat up again. "What!"

"Yes and Sacred Harbor needs your help." She explained that his death left an opening in the Sheriff's department.

She avoided Jacob's questions about how his uncle had died, saying it had been an unfortunate accident and she wasn't comfortable discussing it over the phone. Jacob was forced to respect her wishes, but wasn't happy about it.

"I'm not sure I'm ready to return to police work, Aunt Sue, though I sure appreciate your thinking about me. I'll think about it tonight and give you a call tomorrow." For some reason she seemed shaken by the answer, but it was the best he could do. She started to hurry off the phone.

"Hey Aunt Sue? How's Mark? I haven't heard anything from him in years. Is he doing all right?"

"We'll have to talk later, Jacob. I've got to go. You know, you were always a special boy. Now, you come on out here and get things straightened up, okay? When you get here, you'll find that I've left something for you."

- Click -

Jacob hung up and sat in the dark trying to remember his Uncle Joe, but every memory was clouded by unpleasantness. Known for his strict, no-nonsense ways, there always seemed to be something else just below the surface, like an anger that was barely controlled. He'd had a stare that could burn a hole through your soul. Jacob tried to shrug it off. It was probably one of the things that played in his favor as a sheriff.

But thinking of it now gave him the chills.

He arose and went for a shower, turning thoughts over in his mind. What law office left it up to a spouse's wife to deliver such information and to recruit a new sheriff? It couldn't be an official request because it went against every kind of standard procedure. If it was the 'official' request, he had a good mind to take them up on the job. They did need a house-cleaning!

Jacob had been 'retired' for five years; since a horrible event had changed his perspective on himself and police work. A young woman had been critically injured during a robbery. He'd gotten the call but had arrived too late: too late to stop the crime, too late to catch the thief, too late to save the victim, and too late to say goodbye. The woman had been his fiancee. After all his training, all his years on the force and time on the street, when it came down to it, when it really mattered, he'd been useless. He couldn't forget that. It played in his mind like a broken record. The crime had happened on March third; their wedding had been set for the fifteenth.

The killer hadn't been found. A year later, Jacob walked into the Police Station with a leaden heart and placed his badge on the Lieutenant's desk. He was losing his focus, seeing his fiance, Nikki Ringgold, in the face of every victim.

He knew Nikki would never have let him quit the force. She would never have allowed him to blame himself and wallow in self-pity and doubt, but he wasn't the same man she had known. He struggled every day to find his way back.

He climbed into bed and turned off the lights, but sleep eluded him. His dreams were again filled with pictures of Stacey's shattered and bullet-ridden body.

This time she was standing on the shores of Sacred Harbor warning him to stay away, but he was compelled to travel closer just to see her beloved face. Tears ran down his cheeks as he promised her, "I'll make it this time." he pushed the gas pedal to the floor.

As the car drew alongside, the gentle features he knew so well twisted into a skeletal monstrosity. With a horrid wail, it reached for Jacob and he awoke with a shout.

******

The phone in Jacob's bedroom rang just after he had coated his face with shaving cream and began his first swipe with the razor. He jumped, nicking himself. He grabbed a wad of toilet paper and marched to the phone.

He was ill and hurting. "HELLO!"

There was no reply. Jacob slammed down the phone.

He stood beside it and when the ring came again, he jerked it up, "Look . . . I don't like gam. . ."

"Thirty years ago we met, Jacob Skylar." a voice echoed from deep inside the phone's receiver. "You'll now return to Sacred Harbor as once we said."

Jacob wrapped his arms around himself. The room was colder somehow.

"Who's this? What do you know about Sacred Harbor?"

"We know many things, Jacob Skylar. We await your return."

The phone disconnected and Jacob hung up his end, returning to the bathroom to finish shaving. As he splashed a bit of water on his face, his mind whirled, but he tried to keep his heartbeat steady. "Breathe in and out". he told himself. "Nice and steady." he was having flashbacks to a horrific day in The Slumber, and to a being he'd tried to convince himself wasn't real.

One thing he'd decided to do in the last couple of years was confront his fears, beginning with what happened in the Slumber, and ending with what happened to Nikki. The last phone call had convinced him; if the job was open, he was applying for sheriff of Sacred Harbor. He wanted to know what it was that was so determined to scare him away.

******

After Jacob made his decision, the next thing to do was contact the Sacred Harbor Police Station. His hand trembled the next morning as he picked up the phone, dialed, and waited for an answer.

"Sacred Island Police, Deputy Cassie Hall, how can I help you?"

"This is Jacob Sky . . ."

"Good to hear from you, Mister Skylar." Cassie Hall interrupted. "I was about to call you, sir. I'm afraid I've got some bad news."

"If your bad news is about my uncle, I already heard. Can you tell me more about what happened?"

"Well, yes, sir. But this is a rather awkward situation. I'm sorry to say I was the one who shot and killed him, Mr. Skylar."

"WHAT?!

"The best thing for you to do is get down here if you can. I think we're going to need your help on this one. Your Uncle was always bragging about you. As a matter of fact, we're interested in offering you his job. The mayor wants to talk to you as soon as you can get to Sacred Harbor.

Jacob wasn't about to be sidetracked. "You shot my uncle?"

"Yes sir. I'm truly sorry sir. We got a home disturbance call from his wife Sue." She paused. "She claimed Joe had an ax and was trying to kill her and the kids."

"Ridiculous! I just spoke with Sue last night and . . ."

"That's impossible." Deputy Hall said quickly.

"Deputy Hall, we don't know each other too well, but I'll ask you to stop interrupting me. I'm telling you I spoke with my aunt like I'm speaking with you now. One thing I know for sure is my own aunt's voice."

The other end of the phone went silent.

"What time did she call, Mister Skylar?"

"I happened to look at the clock. It was ten-thirty-three pm and we talked for about five minutes. Why?"

"Mr. Skylar, I'd rather have told you this in person, but your aunt's emergency call came through a little after 9:45. It took us about 30 minutes to drive out to their place. Unfortunately, at that time we discovered her body along with the two children."

Jacob staggered into a chair. "They're all dead?"

"Yes sir. I'm sorry."

"I'm telling you my aunt contacted me!"

"And I'm telling you that's not possible, Mister Skylar." Deputy Hall sounded unnerved. "Do you have any more questions?"

"I have a LOT more questions! Did you find them at home? At two-twelve Hickory?"

"Yes sir."

Jacob leaned his head back with a sigh. "Fine. The rest can wait. I'll be there as soon as I can. Tell the mayor I'll be looking forward to seeing him. I'll want some answers."

Both Jacob and the deputy hung up. Jacob pulled one hand down over his eyes and groaned out loud. Late again. This time he'd had three weeks notice and he'd still managed to mess up.

He made a promise to himself that once he arrived on the island things were going to change. If he had to question every living soul he would find some answers.

With time the truth would be revealed.