Dragon Twins

Dragon

Twins

By Allison Cosgrove

Dragon Twins © 2013 by Allison Cosgrove

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

First edition April 2014

ISBN-13: 978-1453652367

To My Husband

This One's For You, Babe.

Prologue

A loud noise startled Jade from her slight doze. As she straightened up in her chair, she glanced at the clock on her bedside table across the room that held her textbooks. Eleven thirty-five.

Leaning back at her desk, she reached over and felt the bowl of soup Yi, the family housekeeper, had brought. It had been piping hot but now it was tepid. She estimated she was out less than half an hour.

Another crash came from the direction of the kitchen. What on earth was Yi doing at this time of night to make that much noise?

Jade started to get up when the door to her room flew open and two almost identical Asian men burst into her room. Grabbing her before she could make a sound, her feet lashed out and knocked the books to the floor as they dragged her toward the door.

You're coming with us, one of the men said in a thick, Chinese accent. You can either come quietly or we'll drag you out.

There’s no way I'm letting you take me anywhere! she yelled, struggling against them. Their grip loosened and this time she racked her nails across one man’s cheek. Crying out in pain, he released her arm to protect his face, allowing her to jerk free.

She ran out of the bedroom and down the stairs hoping to find Yi or something to defend herself. Jade heard them running after her. Chancing a glance over her shoulder, she saw they were right behind her as she raced through the house trying to get to the kitchen.

She was almost there when a man stepped out of the doorway, into her path. He was Asian but what caught her attention was the knife in his hand. Red liquid dripped from it onto the tile floor. Jade managed to duck around him and into the kitchen and was halted at the sight of Yi. She lay dead in a slowly spreading pool of blood.

A hand grabbed her shoulder and tried to spin her around. Her reflexes drove her forward and jumping over the housekeeper’s body she dove for the cordless phone to dial 911. She managed to dial two digits before the phone was knocked out of her hand, sending it flying across the floor.

Rough hands grabbed her and tore her clothing as she tried to get away. It was useless. They were too strong. It was too much for her. The sight of the dead housekeeper, the men in her house...the blood. There was so much blood.

A hand reached up and put a cloth over her mouth. She fought against it but it was no use. All her strength was gone. As her world faded to darkness the last thing she heard was, Do not hurt her. Ling will not be happy if she is harmed.

Detective Stan Brookshire rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his thick, black hair. It had been one hell of a day. He stood up and tried to smooth out his rumpled suit. Stan left his office and went next door to check on his partner, Detective Jane Trinity. He could hear her typing away at the computer. No doubt she was working on the latest reports that were due to the chief.

Chief Tony Di Organza was your typical, no-nonsense guy. He didn't put up with any one's bullshit and didn't allow anyone else to either. He hated hunting his people down to ask for their reports two days after they were due.

And that's exactly what would happen if the responsibility was left to Stan. It was also the reason Jane got the new computer even though he had seniority. That and Stan did not trust the machines at all...not to mention it would simply collect dust on his desk. It wasn't that he was lazy or didn't respect authority. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Aside from a few minor incidents, he normally had no issues with the people he worked with and enjoyed his job entirely too much.

He felt being a homicide detective was about solving crimes and finding justice for the families of the murdered victims. Not pushing paper all day. Luckily he had Jane to file the reports, although he would occasionally help fill them out.

How's it going? He flopped down into the chair across from her desk. Ready for my John Hancock yet?

Very funny, Jane said without looking up from her papers. You know this would go much faster if you actually helped. It's not brain surgery. You could do this stuff yourself.

And take all the fun away from you? I wouldn’t dream of it! Besides, you are better at it than I am. Jane looked up from her papers long enough to shoot Stan a hard glare.

He laughed. She could be so serious sometimes he almost forgot she had a sense of humor. The only difference was Jane knew how to control hers and Stan didn’t.

So, what brings you here? Obviously it's not to offer assistance with the reports. What do you want?

Just came to see how you were doing and if you were done yet. I was thinking about grabbing something to eat at Ma & Pa's.

I'm almost done.

Stan got up and looked around while he waited. Pictures of her and her family were displayed on shelves. His favorite was a photo of Jane and her husband, their two boys, and Stan. They were playing in the leaves with the boys one autumn. It was from a couple of years ago when Stan and Jane had only been partners for a few months.

While taking pictures someone walking a dog offered to take a group photo. Staring back at him were five people covered in leaves with big, happy grins on their faces. Jane's hair was longer then and its color had been bleached by the summer sun.

The boys were kneeling on the ground in front of them, each holding a handful of leaves and pretending to throw them at the person taking the picture. Stan remembered the day as clear as if it were yesterday. It was one of the few weekends Stan and Jane had gotten together that wasn't work related. It was something he had needed very badly at that time in his life.

These people were Stan’s family. No longer married and not having his own children, he had no one else. The rest of his family had either died or didn’t talk to him anymore after the accident that took his former partner’s life.

He set the picture back on the shelf, brushing aside the dark thoughts that were silently creeping into his mind. Jane put her hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump. He didn't hear her get up and cross the room. Get your head out of the past and back into the present, Stan thought.

That was a great weekend. The boys still talk about the huge leaf fight they got into with Uncle Stan every time they see that picture. Although the amount of leaves keeps increasing every time they tell the story. It’s almost as bad as a fisherman’s tale.

Stan chuckled. That’s boys for you. It's the cool factor. Ready to go?

Yep. You just have to sign off on the dotted line, and then we can get out of here.

You don't have me signing my life away again, do you? He looked at the papers in mock apprehension.

Always, she said, turning to grab her coat.

All right it’s done. I've signed my life away and as an unprecedented bonus, I have also offered up the life of my first born as collateral. Now, let’s get the heck out of here before anything else comes up. It’s wings night at Ma & Pa's and I'm starving, he said as he thrust the newly signed papers back into Jane’s waiting hands.

I can see you're slowly fading away to a shadow just standing there. Let’s go before you die of starvation.

Dropping off the paperwork, they took the elevator to the parking garage beneath the station. Stan drove to their favorite 50s style diner. They chatted about the boys and Stan's cat, Sammy.

The diner was busy when they got there. Wings night was a favorite in the neighborhood and everyone had shown up.

It was your typical mom and pop diner with black and white tile, red leather booths, and a jukebox. Even the waitresses and busboys wore uniforms keeping in theme with the diner. The people who ran the diner were the original owners' grandchildren.

The teenagers took over the entire corner around the old pinball machine. They regularly competed with each other for the best score. They were generally quiet except for the hoots and catcalls at the person playing. Families were scattered throughout the rest of the diner.

Stan and Jane headed for their corner booth next to the jukebox, which was mercifully unoccupied. They picked that spot for a reason. It was so loud no one would be able hear their conversation unless they were sitting at the same table.

They were quickly waited on by a young girl in a red and white poodle skirt with a high ponytail that bounced when she walked. She automatically brought their usual order of coffee. The bother ordered chicken wings, extra spicy, with an order of fries on the side.

Isn't it nice when you don't have to order your coffee and it comes to you when you sit down? Stan asked once the waitress left.

Yeah, you'd think we came here often. Jane said with a smile as she sipped her coffee.

Honest, it's the first time we've been here, Stan said and gave a mock Boy Scouts' honor salute.

Oh would you give it up already? Jane gave him a playful swat across the table.

Stan threw his hands up in the air, indicating he gave up. It felt good to laugh. They had been through a lot the last few weeks working on the trail of a serial necrophiliac.

He would kill his victims and then play out his sick sexual fantasies with the dead bodies. It had disturbed both of them and they were in dire need of some rest and relaxation. They were headed home to do just that after they ate.

Jane was going to the cottage with her family and Stan was staying in town. He planned to go fishing at least once during the long four-day weekend.

They chatted for a while about the case after their food came. Soon they were back to sipping their second cups of coffee. Both were full and content.

Ah, that was good, Stan said. He sat back and rubbed his protruding stomach.

What do you have in there, a baby?

Yep, been growing it for the last ten years. I'm going to be the first man in Lake City to give birth.

Let me guess. You all ready have names picked out, she said reaching for the check.

Yup. I was thinking of naming it after you for a girl and Stanley Junior if it's a boy.

Oh God. What is the world coming to? She sighed as she counted out money to pay the tab.

As soon as they got into Stan's Buick, which had seen better days, the radio squawked. Dispatch was looking for them.

Stan grabbed the mic. Yeah, what's up? Are you here to interrupt my long weekend before it even starts?

The radio squawked again. Is Jane with you? We've been trying to reach both of you.

Yeah, she's with me.

Sorry, guys. We need you to head over to 1753 Engle Brook Road right away. There's a report of a homicide involving a housekeeper and they said something about a missing person. You'll have to check it out completely with the uniforms on the scene.

Isn't there anybody else who can take this call? Stan asked even though he knew what the answer was going to be and had already altered his course.

"Sorry, Stan. The chief wants you and Jane on this one. Says these aren't your average people, that they'll need special attention. He also said he wants to hear from you guys when you get done over there.

Ten-four, out.

So much for our long weekend, eh partner? Jane said with a note of disapproval. She reached for her cell phone to let her husband know their weekend plans were off — again.

Why do we always get stuck with the special cases and special victims?

I don't know. Maybe they think we are special.

Stan pulled onto the onramp leading to an empty highway and headed out to the west end of the city.

A red sports car roared down the road toward the housing complex at the end of the dead end street. It was a quiet night except for the loud music that emanated from the car. It was a mixture of hip-hop and classic rock. The car rocked and swayed as it went over the speed bumps that signaled the entrance to the complex.

Julian didn't know why but every time his best friend Larry — or Lawrence M. Wallace as he was known to his parents — went over those speed bumps he always felt a wave of nausea. He supposed that it was a form of seasickness, but he couldn't be sure as he never had been on a boat before.

They pulled up in front of Julian’s house and sat there for a moment, watching the peaceful street. It was almost twelve-thirty on a Friday night. The street was empty of cars and people. It was almost a picture-perfect night. The moon shone brightly in the sky.

Hey man, that was a great movie wasn't it? I loved the special effects they used! Larry suddenly exclaimed, snapping Julian out of his revere.

I know. It was pretty amazing, Julian agreed. I think I want to learn how they do all that stuff when I go to college next year.

Yeah, that would be cool. It would definitely be something to look into, but do you think that is wise going into that kind of stuff? Unless you are really good at what you do it won’t make you a lot of money.

I know that except I was thinking as a hobby or something. But I'll study computer programming and just do that in my spare time. You never know, I could be seen by someone and be the next big name in computer animatronics.

Yeah daydreams are nice aren't they? Larry said wistfully.

Julian punched his friend in the shoulder. You ass! Larry burst into howls of laughter as he hunched over the steering wheel.

You're coming to pick me up tomorrow? Julian said opening the door to get out. We can’t be late for work again.

You never know, Julian. Someone might notice you tonight and you might not need your job anymore.

Bite me! Julian slammed the door. Before he left, he stuck his head through the open window. Don't forget, dude. Ten o'clock and no later or we'll never make it to work on time. The boss will really have our heads if we don’t.

Okay...I know already!

Later dude. Julian started up the walkway to his house. He watched from the front porch as his friend roared off down the road again. Shaking his head his pulled out his keys and opened the door. The house was deadly quiet and blanketed in darkness.

He quickly kicked off his shoes and hung up his jacket on the coat rack just inside the front door. He took the stairs two at a time and noticed once he got to the top that there was light coming from under his foster mother’s bedroom door.

He hoped she hadn't waited up for him again. He had warned her that he would be coming home around one and that she didn't have to worry about waiting up for him. But like any mother she had more than tried to wait up for him, and probably fell asleep in the process.

He quietly opened his bedroom door, quickly slipped in and closed it silently behind him. Julian flipped on the bedside light and was about to sit down to check his email when he heard a quiet knock on his door.

Come in, he said without looking up from the computer screen until he heard the door open behind him.

Hi, Mum. I didn't wake you up when I came in, did I? he said, looking into the eyes of the kindest woman he had ever known.

Martha Woods had been a foster parent for most of her adult life. She had been an early childhood educator when she was younger and was a great person to be around. She was dressed in her dark royal blue housecoat and matching slippers that Julian had bought her for last Christmas.

Her dark auburn hair was freed from its usual braid or bun. It flowed gently over her shoulders almost to her waist. She was a petite woman only standing five-foot-four. Julian towered over her plump, matronly figure with his five-foot-nine frame.

She had never married to Julian's knowledge, and she was unable to have children herself. That was the main reason she became a foster parent. At least that was the reason she gave Julian when he had asked her almost twelve years ago. He came to live with her when he was just about six years old.

No, Jules. You didn't wake me. I was just reading a book waiting for you to come in.

I told you I was going to be late. You didn't have to wait up for me you know.

I know I didn't have to silly, but you knew I would anyway. I will always worry about you no matter how old you get.

I know. Don’t worry. I'm home safe now. Go get some sleep. He got up to give her a hug and kiss good night.

Good night, Julian. I love you, sweetheart.

Night, Mum. I love you too.

She quietly closed the door behind her. Julian changed out of his school clothes and into a pair of beat up track pants and a rumpled T-shirt he had thrown into his drawer. He had to laugh; his foster mother had him semi-brainwashed. He could almost hear her lecture him about the unfolded, rumpled laundry. Sometimes he ignored this voice; however, when she offered sound advice he usually listened. For instance, he did occasionally pick up his room, which he noticed needed to be done now. He couldn't even see the floor.

Julian turned on his radio to a soft classic rock station and turned down the volume so he wouldn't disturb his mum. He went about cleaning his room and returned to the computer that dominated half of his small desk that sat on the wall opposite to his bed.

Julian brought up his email and read through the usual litany of junk mail that his friends from school sent. When he finished he looked online for news and updates on his favorite video games and movies.

He was about to log off when his instant messenger buzzed, signaling an incoming message. He clicked on it and tried to decide if what he was reading was a joke.

The message read: ‘I have one and you are next’.

One? Julian thought. Who was this person talking about?

Julian sat staring at the screen and decided the message was meant for someone else. He didn't recognize the screen name DragonsTwin. Then again, it could be Larry playing another trick on him. Larry was infamous for pulling stunts on his best friend.

He decided to ignore it and went to bed.

Stan and Jane pulled onto a well-lit street in a fairly upscale part of town. The entrance was flanked by eight-foot walls and wrought iron gates. As far as Stan knew they never closed the gates. Instead, it served as a reminder to keep the riffraff out if need be.

They spotted the responding officer's