Free Apocalypse Island by Mark Edward Hall Page B

was an entire line of them that followed a rusted and long abandoned railroad spur, but this one was the closest one to the crime scene. Old rotted telegraph lines hung from them like errant cobwebs. “Those poles are from the days of Morse code and probably haven’t been used in more than half a century.”
    “Yeah, so?” Cavanaugh said again.
    “What’s it look like to you?”
    Cavanaugh frowned. “Looks like a telegraph pole.”
    “Use your imagination.”
    Cavanaugh made a face and shrugged.
    Jennings sighed. “Oh yeah, I forgot, you don’t have an imagination, do you, Frank? Listen, I’d be willing to bet the killer was planning on hanging her from that pole and someone came along and surprised him. So he just dumped the body. I think he covered her over with trash and the wind uncovered her.”
    “Why would he hang her from the...?” Cavanaugh stopped as what Jennings was trying to say began to sink in. “That’s quite a stretch, ain’t it, Rick?”
    “After what happened last week I don’t think it’s a stretch at all. Just look at it, Frank.”
    Cavanaugh frowned but followed Jennings’ hand. It seemed like an ordinary telegraph pole to him. About ten feet up there was a horizontal cross piece with old blue and green glass insulators still attached, some of them broken by rocks or BB guns. “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “It sort of looks like a cross, I suppose. If you have an imagination.” He grinned smugly at Jennings.
    “More sicko Christian shit,” said Myers.
    “Will you stop with the Christian bullshit, Myers?” Cavanaugh said. “This guy is a sick pervert. Period! Christ, look at her.”
    “How can you say it’s not religious?” Myers said.
    “I don’t think you can deny the religious connotations,” Jennings said. “That woman found at Oak Hill cemetery last week had a bunch of blasphemous tattoos, she had a cross carved on her and she was strapped to a large cross-shaped tombstone. This guy is definitely hung up on religion and that pole over there is just too close for comfort. Coincidence? I don’t think so. And I’d be willing to bet forensics won’t find much evidence around the scene. The body was almost certainly dumped.” Jennings bent closer to the corpse, staring down at the artwork, both horrified and entranced. “Jesus, why would anyone do such a thing?” It was a rhetorical question spoken in a near whisper. He didn’t really expect an answer.
    “Maybe she was fucking around on her old man and he decided to teach her a lesson,” Cavanaugh said.
    Eight astonished eyes turned to the detective.
     

Chapter 20
     
     
     
    Did he just say what I thought he said? Jennings asked himself.
    Cavanaugh saw all the staring eyes. “What?” he said. “I was just sayin’.”
    “You cold son of a bitch,” Myers said in a voice that choked with disgust. “What kind of man are you? How can you even think thoughts like those? Look at her, man. What if she was your daughter, or your wife?”
    Cavanaugh smirked. “If my daughter or my wife had decorated her body with filth like that I wouldn’t have been this easy on her.”
    Myers went for the detective’s throat. Jennings took two lumbering steps and came between the two men, his rugged face darkly troubled. “Knock it off,” he said in a voice that was much too calm. “And Frank, grow the hell up.”
    “Me?” Cavanaugh said with a hoarse laugh. “He just told you he saw a fucking ghost. I don’t think it’s me who needs to grow up.”
    “I know what I saw!” Myers said. “So screw you, Cavanaugh.”
    “Oh, really,” Cavanaugh said. “You’re a religious man, aren’t you, Myers? Go to temple, get down on your knees, wear the little skull cap and all that bullshit?”
    “Fuck you, asshole! What’s that have to do with anything?”
    “You Holy Roller types see all sorts of things the rest of us don’t. Isn’t that right? Holy ghosts. Burning bushes. Shit like that.”
    “You