Page 19 of Dark Side of the Cloth

“Someone snuck into their home and tried to take both of them from their beds. They were no more than eight at the time, but Yasmine had always been a great little soccer player. She was very fit. Apparently, she fought hard and managed to escape the man’s clutches. She ran back to the harvest festival, completely hysterical and screaming for help. We could barely get her to calm down enough to understand what was wrong. I’ll never forget the look of horror on her young face. Bruises marked her arms and face for weeks.”

Mabel paused again and looked him in the eye.

“By the time we all arrived at the house, young Raquel was gone. Yasmine kept screaming to find her, to help her sister, so the doctor ended up giving her something that night to calm down when she spent the night in the hospital. I stayed by her bed as her parents, and the rest of the town immediately started a search for Raquel.”

“There was no trace that the person had been inside the house?”

“Oh no, there was plenty of signs of a struggle, even droplets of blood from Yasmine breaking the man’s nose.”

Dean raised his eyebrows at that.

“There was just no sign of which way the man had gone, no witnesses, and the only access point disturbed was a single-window he opened and snuck in through.”

Mabel’s soft blue eyes filled with tears, pain written in their depths.

“Yasmine’s mother couldn’t handle the guilt, she locked herself in her room for weeks, and when they finally found Raquel—well…then the poor thing committed suicide. The weight of losing her daughter so brutally was just too much for her, I guess.”

Mabel’s voice faltered, and she took a moment to gather herself.

“The image of Yasmine holding her father’s hand as they stood quietly at the gravesite of her sister and then her mother is an image that will never leave me.” Mabel rubbed at her arms like she was suddenly cold. “Yasmine’s father was a good man and continued on the best he could. He kept the business going and looked after Yasmine, but he was a shell of the man he’d once been. I stepped in as much as I could as a mother figure. I knew she needed someone like that around, but at the end of the day, I was not her family.”

“I’m sure that whatever kindness you showed meant more to her than you will ever understand.”

“Maybe, I certainly hope so. Yasmine slowly healed over time, but the once vibrant and outgoing little girl had become very withdrawn from everyone. She went off to college, and she was in her final year when her father died. That was a couple of years before you arrived in town—he died of a sudden heart attack. They found him in the parlor. He’d been setting up for a funeral and was already wearing his best suit. He would’ve liked that.” A wistful smile played on her lips. “Yasmine came home from college to bury the last of her family and stayed to take over the family business.”

“And they never had any suspects?” Dean asked, his voice steely as he pictured Yasmine fighting for her life. Fighting off some fucker like the one he’d just buried. His blood boiled in his veins, but all he showed Mabel was a calm concern.

“Oh, Father…” Mabel wiped away another tear. “They never had enough proof. They suspected a few, that’s what I heard through the grapevine, but the sheriff couldn’t make a strong enough case. Sheriff Daniels was a deputy at the time, and I remember when they found Raquel, he’d been devastated. It was his first big case. Anyway, the rumor was the guy took off, was in jail for something else, or passed away. I hope they were right, the idea that he’s been coming in here like this one.” Mabel pointed to the paper.

“Makes me ill.” She shook her head from side to side slowly. “What was done to Raquel was unspeakable. The man was a monster.”

The rage trying to claw its way out for Yasmine was like a living creature in Dean’s chest. Dean stuffed the last of the pie in his mouth and gulped down the coffee before he slowly stood. He laid a hand on Mabel’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you for telling me. I’ll make sure that Yasmine is going to be okay. Are you still having the monthly food drive this weekend?” he asked.

Mabel quickly wiped away the rest of her tears as she stood to face him.

“Yes, I certainly am, too many people in need, especially this time of year. I want to help as many as I can. I’ve been fortunate over the years and like to pay it forward.”

“Bless you, Mabel, you are truly a soul sent from the heavens.” He gave her shoulder a parting squeeze. “I will be here to help, have a good rest of your day.”

People waved and called out hellos to him as he left, and he must have answered, but his mind was already somewhere else. He had research to do and plans to make.

One thing was certain, he was going to find the man that took Raquel and hurt Yasmine, and if he was still alive, and Dean hoped he was, he’d make sure that man paid for his sin.

Sixteen Years Ago

Yasmine snuggled her teddy bear. She didn’t care if people thought she was too old for stuffed toys. She loved her teddy. She glanced across the room, the nightlight allowing her to see Raquel was already asleep, but she was wide awake from all the excitement of the evening. Tony had said she was pretty and had given her a small handful of icicle pansies. She stared at the small clump of flowers in the cup of water on her nightstand and smiled as she stifled a giggle. Tony was the most popular boy in school. She couldn’t believe he spoke to her, let alone asked to sit with her at lunch.

Yasmine tried to will herself to sleep. She had a big game tomorrow and needed the rest. As captain of her squad, the division championship was her goal, and that meant they had to win the next two games. She’d been practicing her passing and kicking all week with the older boys to make sure she was ready.

A loud creak on one of the stairs sounded in the quiet house, and she quickly closed her eyes, knowing that her parents would check on them and expect them to be asleep by now. The brass handle squeaked slightly as the knob turned—she anticipated the sweet flowery smell of her mother’s perfume, but instead, her nose was greeted by the sharp scent of diesel and sweat.

The hair on her arms rose, and her heart began pounding wildly as she sensed something was off, but she couldn’t place her finger on what exactly was wrong. She was too scared to open her eyes and see what it was. Yasmine’s mind raced. Maybe it was a ghost or a monster or… another floorboard groaned, closer this time. Her breathing quickened as her pulse thumped loudly in her ears.

She focused hard, listening in for the slightest noise to give away what was coming for them. There was a shuffling sound by the foot of her bed—it took everything in her to lay still. To not give away that she was awake. Goosebumps rose all over her body as the sickly smell of alcohol was strong in her nose. Her body involuntarily shivered, and strange energy coursed through her body, urging her to run. Unable to handle the suspense any longer, her eyes snapped open to see what was in their room.

A scream bubbled at the back of her throat as the nightlight cast shadows on a thing. No, not a thing, a man. Yasmine stared into the eyes behind a black mask so close to her face she could see every little detail of his eyes. They were eyes that she didn’t recognize, but she knew she and her sister were in danger.