Latham's Landing II: Return to Cairn Isle

by Tara Fox Hall

Latham’s Landing is a cursed island mansion that dwells like a sitting spider on a long clear lake in the Northeast. Red granite stones make its skeleton. Lights form at night in its windows, though the electricity there has been off for some time. Winding out from the isle is a long narrow stone bridge that snakes to a house of glass known as The Sea Room. On some nights, The Sea Room also lights up, burning like a pyre of Hell as Cairn Isle welcomes new victims. Winds tend to come up out of nowhere, becoming tempests of lightning and rough waves in mere minutes that overturn boats with childish ease. Time passes differently there, the hours slipping away like minutes. Stories of ghosts and disappearances abound, and it is hard to say what is truth and what comes from fear. For the isle wears an unspeakable menace like a permanent cloak, and none who come close enough to see anything—and live to tell about it—ever tell all that they have seen.

Until now.

Frustrated that Cairn Isle has claimed another new batch of victims, retired police Chief Stahl strikes back, buying the property and flooding Cairn Isle, stopping the killings. Yet black hissing shadows and worse haunt the island shore, venturing inland. People begin to disappear. Island survivor Barb, reporter Cheer, pastor Maryanne and even the psychic Jean Bane join with Stahl in an effort to destroy the evil forces of Cairn Isle at all costs.

Excerpt

There’s no thrill like the thrill of waiting to see a dead woman’s pictures. Oh yes, there is…doing it twice in three years.

Police Chief Robert “Bob” Stahl leaned over his paper-stacked desk, and tried to look capable, and firmly in control. Snatches of whispering from his staff of five outside the office intensified, scraping at the raw wounds of earlier that morning.

“Damn, the chief looks pissed…”

“Didn’t you hear? The island got another couple this morning.”

“No, it’s more than a couple this time. There’s even some kind of helicopter that blew up.”

“That’s bullshit. People have been dying out there for years. They wouldn’t have decided to finally send the Army in now, especially in the middle of winter!”

“I didn’t say the guy was Army, just that he had a helicopter out there.”

“Maybe it was drugs? They’re saying that three cops got killed out there, too.”

“First time any of us were killed there. I’m glad the dog lived at least. Too bad he can’t tell us what he saw.”

“Everyone shut up out there and get back to work!” Bob thundered. “Right God-damn now!”

There were mutterings, then creaks and typing, as his officers and secretary returned to their desks.

Bob rubbed his eyes, his finger bumping against his reading glasses. Getting too God-damn old for this. He picked up the phone and dialed. “Jerry, do you have anything on that film for me yet? I told you this was top priority.”

“Which film?” Jerry sniped back irritably. “I told you right off that water-resistant isn’t the same as waterproof. Both these cameras you brought me have been submerged completely and left underwater for at least a while. Both of them took heavy impacts, the 35MM more than one. The 35MM is worse off, but the digital camera has a dead battery, and I don’t have the new one in yet. I’m going to have to wait anyway until the digital one dries out before replacing the battery, if I see any moisture inside it. What the hell happened out there? Do you even know?”

Always the same: accusation and anger that he wasn’t doing enough to stop the deaths.  Fear always mushroomed after the island claimed another life. It didn’t matter that the lives lost at Cairn Isle were almost always from outsiders. The people of Schuyler County—his people—knew better than to go within sight of the island.

“Bob!”

“No, we don’t know what happened,” Bob said acidly. “Because while we have a reported explosion, there’s no smoke or flame visible on the island. Yes, we have two adults, one female and one male, who were found in a boat near the shore. The boat was locked in ice about ten feet out, half submerged. You understand what that means?”

“Yes,” Jerry said, subdued. “Cairn Isle did its freeze-thaw routine. The two were trying to escape and didn’t make it. Do you know who they are?”

“One of them is Barb Usher. The dog we found was hers. She reported a vehicle on the shore hooked to a trailer and a floating gas can in the water two days ago.”

“And you were just getting around to going to check it out?”

“I hoped someone was burning the damn house out there down,” Bob growled. “And the vehicle was registered to a woman that is wealthy who has no police record and isn’t reported missing. So no, I didn’t send anyone out there. But when I saw this woman’s file was flagged in connection with a double murder a few months ago, I did place a call to some detective in her hometown who acted like he couldn’t be bothered.” He paused. “What Barb didn’t tell me was that she was planning a visit out there herself; the cameras you’re working on are hers. I need to know what’s on them.”

Jerry was quiet. “You know it’s not going to matter,” he said finally. “But okay. Let me get back to it.”

Bob replaced the phone, the buzzing of the dial tone exacerbating his headache.

“Chief Stahl?”

Bob looked up to two men who were in his doorway. Feds, just what I need. “Are you with Homeland Security?”

“No, OVC, Human Trafficking Division,” one of the men said, flashing a badge. “Officer J.C. and this is Officer Victor. We need to talk to you.”

“You’ve got the wrong person and probably the wrong county,” Bob commented. “This is all rural around here. There’s no massage parlors or anything.”

“We’re looking for a witness who went missing,” J.C. continued. “Her name is Chung Lai.” He flashed a picture of a pretty Asian woman. “We think she was kidnapped by a man who goes by the name of Mac Ready. He’s a former military pilot who works for Charter Collins, one of the people that Lai implicated with her testimony. She never made it to the safehouse. Mac’s currently missing. So’s his helicopter.”

“What the hell are you telling me?”

“Look,” Victor said abruptly, whipping out his phone. “This video was uploaded last night from some kids camping on the shore onto YouTube.” He hit play.

One teen was telling another teen some joke, when suddenly behind them there was an intense light. Amid swearing and exclamations from the teens, the camera got dropped then picked up as several louder booms sounded. Finally, the camera righted and zoomed in on a barely visible island, just in time for a loud whoomph and a glowing fireball to appear. The boys filmed it for a few seconds, then there was an animal howling noise quickly supplanted by a growing wind. The camera was dropped again, then cut off.

“Did you talk to the boys?” Bob said.

“You don’t seem surprised to see that one of your constituent’s houses blew up.”

“That house doesn’t belong to any of my people,” Bob said coolly. “Did you talk to the boys?”

“Not yet, that’s why we’re here. Mac Ready is a pilot, like I said.”

“Chief Stahl?” his secretary said, walking up with another couple. “These officers want to see you, also.”

“Detectives Watkins and Loggins,” the man said, flashing a badge. “She’s Loggins. We’re here to talk to you about two missing detectives, Drake and Bowman.”

Bowman, fuck, he’s the detective I talked to about the car Barb reported. “All of you come in and shut the door,” Bob said tiredly. “What missing detectives?”

“Three, actually: Lease, Drake, and Bowman,” Victor added, glancing at the two detectives. “Good that you arrived when you did. We won’t have to go back over anything. Lease is suspected to be working with Collins in trafficking women; Lai implicated him.”

Three dead cops and one of them dirty. And I thought it couldn’t get any worse. Bob sighed inwardly.“How do you know the missing detectives are here?”

“I’m betting the boat you found is the one rented out to Lease; his brother runs a boat rental shop at the other end of the lake. He reported Detective Lease missing today. We moved fast because we suspected that Lease might have rented the boat to escape to the island. He and Mac were planning to dispose of Lai there, then they could fly to another state.”

“They didn’t fly anywhere, though; they blew up,” J.C. said darkly. “Either a falling out between the two, or Lai decided to fight back. She was formidable and wouldn’t have gone down without a fight.”

The island probably enjoyed her best of all. “What is it you want?”

“We want to know everything you know, then we want to go out to that island,” Victor stressed. “We have to know if our star witness is alive or dead.”

She’s dead. They’re all dead.  “Let’s go then gentlemen,” Bob said, grabbing his coat. “You can ride with me or follow behind. If you ride with me, I’ll fill you in on the ride.”

* * *

“So, you’re saying that you think that the explosion we saw on the YouTube video wasn’t caused by the helicopter crashing?” J.C. said finally.

I can’t believe they all wanted to ride with me. “Hard to say, until we get there,” Bob said, pushing down the shiver of fear. “But there’s a possibility that the missing woman, Carolyn Stone, attempted to burn down the house on Latham’s Landing in revenge for the death of her boyfriend. He was killed out on the lake in a boating accident some time ago.”

“You have a lot of boating accidents here, don’t you?” Loggins quipped.

“The lake is shallow, and storms can come up suddenly,” Bob said defensively. “Fishermen usually can read the signs and get off the lake in time. But we get a lot of college and high school kids on Leighton Beach, which is down at the other end of the lake. They used to rent boats to waterski, now it’s mostly jet skis. They’re told to stay in sight of the beach, but every year at least a couple come down to see the whole lake. They don’t know where its shallow and likely hit rocks.”

“They die?” Loggins pressed.

They disappear. “I wouldn’t know; that’s another county, not Schuyler,” Bob said evasively.

“Can you tell from the video which location on the lakeshore the kids were shooting the video from?” Watkins asked.

“I’m guessing it was from Carl’s Point. The real name of the island was originally Carl’s Island, after Latham’s eldest son. Carl’s Point is a popular spot because it sticks out onto the lake. You can get a fairly good view of the lake house without going out on the water.”

“Can you take us there?”

“Yes. But first we’re going to talk to Lease’s brother. I want to know if your two detectives were with Lease when he rented that boat.”

* * *

“Waste of time. I’ve never seen someone so evasive,” Watkins griped, flashing a dagger look back at the shabby boat rental building.

“At least he rented us a boat,” J.C. said, as he and Victor hooked a medium-sized boat trailer up to Bob’s SUV. “Though the motorboat doesn’t look big enough for all of us.”

“It’s big enough,” Victor assured him.

“Lease’s brother might have known Hawk was dirty. Or he might not have,” Bob said, sliding behind the wheel.

“But he thinks his brother Hawk is dead. It’s obvious. Why would he think that?” Loggins mused.

“Because people who rent boats to go to the island at night usually don’t come back,” Bob answered. Or during the day, either.

The fivesome arrived at Carl’s Point, but there was nothing there except the remains of a fire that still held smoking embers.

“I think you’ve got to be right,” Loggins said, looking out at the island. “A helicopter can’t have crashed there. We’d see wreckage and the wreck would still be burning, like this fire. There’s no sign of any wreckage. The house looks intact if a little run down.”

Bob looked out at the island, his lips tightening. Oh, it’s intact all right, but even this far off I can see that some of the new work I’ve been hearing about in town is still there, even if most of it is missing. Old Randy even came in one night raving about a belltower and how he heard it peal at the stroke of midnight. “The one side of the house is sunken sometimes.”

“What do you mean, sometimes?” Loggins asked.

“When the water level rises,” Bob said vaguely, then turned. “We’re not going to find anything else here. If we’re going to the island today, we need to go now.”

“Can we launch from here?” Loggins asked, looking into the murky water. “There’s no rocks?”

“Shouldn’t be,” Bob said, then winced at his choice of words.

They launched the boat, then used the motor to reach the island in a half hour, tying up to a pinkish granite dock at the side of the island.

The five walked up the bleached granite stairs, then spread out over the lawn on their way to the main house.

“Someone had a fire here on the front lawn,” Watkins said, kicking at a large ash pile. “It’s still warm.”

“What I find odd is that there’s not much snow here on the island,” Victor said slowly. “Yet there’s a good foot on the mainland shore all around the lake. Why is that Chief?”

“I’m not sure,” Bob said. “Maybe whatever burned here last night melted it all? We had record high temperatures measured here on the lake in the last few days. But it’s supposed to go back down into subzero by later tonight.”

“Hey, isn’t anyone else going to say how none of this fits together?” J.C. said loudly. “We have video of an explosion, and yet the house is not only here but it is also undamaged. There’s a spot where there’s been a fire on the lawn, but no other sign anyone has been here. There’s no sign of the missing girl Carolyn, the three detectives, or of Chung Lai! No sign at all they were ever here!”

That’s curious. What is that smell? Bob crouched down near the fire, then took a deep breath, trying to place the odd scents. He reached down and picked up a small twig. This isn’t wood, it’s some kind of herb. He stuck it into his pocket fast, inside a pocket pack of tissues. That’s why this is here, but nothing else is. Whatever Carolyn came here to do, she came prepared. She hurt the island somehow, left a scar it couldn’t heal over. I have to find out what this herb is. “Let’s walk around, see if we see any more signs.”

The five people walked around the side of the house, finding nothing out of the ordinary.

“What’s that out there?” Loggins asked suddenly, pointing.

“The Sea Room,” Bob said, glancing up. “A small house made of glass, connected to the island by a stone bridge.”

Four pairs of eyes stared at him, incredulous. “This house has been here for decades and got weathered to a near wreck but there’s a house of glass the same age nearby at water level still intact?”

“Latham was a shipping magnate – he built ocean vessels. The glass isn’t window glass, it is heavy-duty marine glass made to line underwater windows in ships,” Bob said patiently. “And as far as I know, yes, it’s still intact.”

“I’ll bet that’s where he killed her, if he did it here,” Loggins said, taking a step forward. “We should check it out.”

Bob looked up to answer and stopped, mouth opening as he took a sharp intake of breath. At the top of the house, on one of the side balconies, a cloaked figure was watching him from the heavy shadow on the house, pinprick red eyes glowing.

I know a warning when I see it. “Chung Lai wouldn’t have been taken to the Sea Room,” Bob said loudly, staring hard at the figure. “Why bother walking her out there two miles each way? You know what the easiest scenario is? Carolyn came here to burn the house, and she drove over here across the ice in a snowmobile, then couldn’t get back in the sudden thaw. She did her best, but it didn’t work for some reason, so she sat down to stay the night. But Mac made arrangements to meet Lease here and flew in Chung Lai. Lease arrived by boat, maybe he even wrecked on the rocks, and never got to land. But Mac probably killed Chung Lai and Carolyn, then flew away in the helicopter. Or maybe the helicopter did blow up here, and its wreckage is in the lake.”

“Hey,” Victor called. “The main door here is open. We should go in and check it out.”

“You go ahead,” Bob said, still staring at the figure. It suddenly stepped back into the shadows, disappearing. “I’ll check around the side of the house.”

The four cops went into the house. Bob already knew they wouldn’t find anything. “You’re not stupid, are you?” Bob said softly. “You’re hiding now because it’s one thing to take people who won’t be missed. It’s another to take cops who are here searching for the missing.”

There was a sudden splash at the shoreline, as if a huge fish had jumped. Bob drew his gun and moved closer.

With a small ripple, a head broke the surface of the water. “I mean you no harm,” the woman said, pushing back her long red hair. “Lower your gun. I’m no ghost.”

“Yeah, you’re a fucking mermaid here to sing me a love song,” Bob said, unflinching. “Where the hell is Bowman?”

“Dead and eaten,” the woman said, flashing a smile of long, pointed fish teeth.

Bob fired, the shot tagging the woman’s shoulder in a spray of red blood. The woman hissed and disappeared beneath the waves. Bob stared at the water and blinked, but the red blood on the rocks stayed there, already drying as it spread over the stones.

Bob moved around the side of the house, picking his way through waist-high old weeds. He’d only taken two steps before something grabbed his supporting leg, dragging him down mid-step. He moved to get up and something landed on him, pushing his face into the ground. He tried to move but the heavy weight pinned him like a squirming and helpless bug.

“Turn back. Take them to the sunken side,” a hoarse voice growled in his ear.

Bob shifted, kicking hard, and pushed over on his side, lunging for the gun. He grabbed it and thrust it out, looking in all directions. But whatever had landed on him was nowhere in view.

Bob struggled out of the weeds and back the way he’d come, his desperate looks behind showing him only shoreline. He hurried to the front door, where the four detectives were coming out of the house. Victor and J.C. looked untroubled as they talked, but Loggins seemed distracted, and Watkins was sweating heavily, his expression pale. I don’t need to ask them if they heard my shot. It’s obvious they didn’t. I need to corner Watkins alone before they leave.

“Let’s go around the sunken side,” Bob said, moving fast. “I heard something.”

The other officers drew their guns, then hurried after him. They moved as a group as they rounded the house, then stopped, staring.

“I guess we found the copter,” J.C. said, then whistled. “Christ, what a mess.”

The broken off tail of the helicopter rested in the shallow water; a piece of rudder just visible above the surface. Other pieces of the ‘copter lay strewn in the water and on the thin stretch of shore, some resting on top of a blown apart snowmobile half in, half out of the water.

“There’s a body!” Victor ran to the edge of the water, then began pulling the body up onto the shore. “It’s Chung Lai.”

“And that’s what’s left of Mac, still in the ‘copter cockpit,” J.C. said heavily, pointing into the water. 

“The snowmobile must be Carolyn’s. She’s likely dead, too.” Bob gazed into the water, his eyes darting, sure he’d seen a large shape moving away from the sunken wreckage. You didn’t see a mermaid. You did not.

“I’m calling it in,” Loggins said. She came over to Bob. “We’ll need to close off this area.”

“It’s already closed off,” Bob murmured, looking again towards the house, where the cloaked figure was again watching him. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. The figure was gone.

* * *

“So, it’s being ruled death by misadventure?” Bob said into the phone.

“Yeah,” J.C. replied. “They looked at Chung Lai’s body. She’d been shot twice, but not lethally. Mac had been shot dead. We’re guessing she got loose in the cockpit as he was about to land, and they struggled. The helicopter went down, and crashed into Carolyn’s snowmobile, igniting the gas tank, which exploded, and blew the helicopter’s gas tank too.”

“But we didn’t find her body,” Bob commented. “Carolyn’s body is missing.”

“Not yet, but it will probably wash ashore,” J.C. replied. “Some of the divers who recovered Mac’s body did find some of Carolyn’s bags in the water, plus her coat, and her driver’s license. They found gas cans, too, blown apart. It’s not surprising that the fireball on the video was as large as it was.”

They didn’t all die in an explosion. And who heard of a woman getting loose and not only grabbing a man’s gun while he’s flying a helicopter, but shooting him in the heart just before they crash? “Glad we can close this up. I heard that the cops are still missing?”

“No, we found Lease. He was separate from the others. His jacket was caught on the wreckage of some old dock near the back of the house. But we did find blood on his jacket and pants, a lot of blood. DNA match to both Drake and Bowman, I’m afraid.”

“So he killed them.”

“We assume so, though we haven’t found the bodies. But we’ve been over every inch of the house and in the sunken parts of it, too. Nothing’s there. Plus, his gun was out of bullets, and equipped with a silencer. It’s likely he rented the boat with Bowman and Drake, got them out onto the water, shot them both, and then dumped them over the side. He tried to go home, but instead got caught in a sudden storm.”

“And shot himself out of guilt or desperation?”

“Yes. But how did you know he was shot and not drowned?”

Bob closed his eyes. Because that’s always how it is. Those that die on the island are found on the island if they are found. Those that die in the water around the island…those people aren’t usually found, and if they are, just their bones. And now I finally know why…they’re eaten.

“Bob?”

“I’m just glad it’s over,” Bob said. He hung up the phone before J.C. could answer.

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