Queen Keenora

Prologue

She stared out of the window almost longingly, the anxious feeling of awaiting something long overdue tugging at her innards. The train moved swiftly out of the grey and depressing atmosphere of central New Jersey, closer to another station where she’d have her anxiety relieved. Rain made violent streaks across the glass and continued to come down relentlessly. Hopefully not a drop of it would ever touch her again. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as her eyes surveyed the early-morning traffic moving swiftly along the major roadway, seeming to glide along side the train.

She never understood why cars amused her so much or the mere idea of traveling in itself. Her spirit was rumoured to be from an older time. She never could handle the concept of mechanical technology. Her friend Peter had tried to get her to use a cellular phone but she never got the concept of telephones handled in the first place. She would curse herself for this but Peter would make her feel better by loving her anyway. Peter. She had forgotten him. He would miss her dearly but it was time. Nothing could stop the inevitable.

As her thoughts ran back to her lover that she had left behind in White House, her body became agitated. The seat was now unbearably upright and the heat in the car was too high. The stares were agonizingly blatant and she felt her patience with the meddlesome strangers begin to slip. She would get curious looks often; just innocent people trying to figure out her age, since she had such a young face with almost completely white hair. Her pale face flushed horridly to crimson red. She needed air and it would be another twenty minutes before they arrived in Newark. She pressed her hot cheek against the cooler glass to be relieved for only a moment. Her eyes began to burn and all at once she knew what was happening.

It was too soon. She was not near her destination. This wasn’t what was written. Her breathing heightened and she began to panic. The train slowed to pull into another station. “Westfield station! We are now in Westfield!” the conductor announced loudly, much to the dismay of her bleeding ears. The early morning commuters shuffled onto the train, the same vacant look on each of their faces. Her seat seemed to not exist; instead of having any of the professional working class sitting next to her, they shuffled past her seat, sighing hard as they discovered no more empty seats and accepting their punishment of standing in the aisle. A young man- hardly hitting twenty-five, she knew, and already resenting his job and his pregnant wife- stood directly beside her, his fresh paper cocked and ready to be read in standing position. Once again the train jolted to a start to continue its trek.

She began to search frantically through her bag. She had to find the words. She must read them aloud. Suddenly the train stopped. It had not pulled into the last stop on the line before Newark. They were in between. Collectively, all sound was vacuumed out of the train car. All rustling of newspapers ceased, the crying child two seats behind her was cut short of her rant, the indistinct sounds of Latin music stopped from the Panamanian man sitting in front of her. Everything and everyone had been frozen into a floating existence, an extended millisecond slowed beyond human measure.

More blood trickled down from her ears, the steady drip now rapidly flowing down to her neck. Her white blouse was drenched in the dark fluid, the outskirts of the pooling edges already beginning to brown. Then she heard the footsteps, steady in their wake and slow, very concentrated as if the person had been perfecting his or her intimidating tread for centuries. As her eyes rolled downward to the large straw bag by her side, her vision failed her. A black veil had corrupted her peripheral vision and she could see nothing but whatever was directly in front of her. She wanted to reach for her bag, knowing clearly where it was, but her limbs rebelled.

They were as heavy as oak and her long delicate fingers could hardly lift. Her entire body was transfixed to the beat of the footsteps, her heart jerking to the corresponding thud. He was near, she knew, and it was over for her and possibly for the rest of the Sisters. She had failed them; her name was now tarnished and her afterlife would be of loneliness and disparity, if she were granted so much. Her heart was so heavy she wanted to weep for years to come, but an intense heat had such a hold on her body that her fluids began to dry up. Her mouth felt like the cracked lands of a thirsty desert, her tongue crumbling into grains of sand. A sob escaped her and her throat slipped into her stomach, the muscles and tendons holding no more strength and lubrication to do their duties.
The door slid open and she saw the brim of the black hat before she saw the pale face. Her mouth opened as she gazed at the creature bringing her to her earthly end, her cheek splitting open with nothing oozing out. He approached her seat and stood in front of the resentful young man that had been concentrating on the same word as if to figure what it was.

She stared at him in complete awe. She hadn’t meant to be rude but he was beautiful. His skin was so pale it was tinted ice blue. His eyes were small slits, their colour taken from the fieriest opal. The line of his jaw was sharp and strong, the muscles flexing as he bit down habitually on the inside of his cheek. His nose was pointed and dagger like. Black shrouds flowed about him as if he carried his own gale force. He was The Redeemer, the man, spirit, or demon that she had been warned about since she was a little girl. “He is very beautiful, but don’t fall for his vanity,” her mother had said. “He will woo you and take your soul.” Her mother had not lied.

The Redeemer smiled at her gently, his small mouth and thoughtful eyes seeming to take her in. “Don’t be afraid,” his voice floated to her, his mouth not moving. His lips continued to have the same thoughtful and amused pose. “I’ve come to release you.” His voice came to her as a panacea for her dying body. Instantly her ears stopped aching and her limps were floating once again. She did not care for her sight; her eyes were closed and her mouth was upturned into a euphoric grin. “Release me as you will,” she heard her voice call back to him. She barely heard the sing of the blade as he removed it from its casing at his side nor did she feel it as it sank into her neck.


1

Her heels clicked against the cobblestone as she picked up her pace. She could feel Him nearing her as a sob escaped her lips. She began banging on any door or window she could find, screaming for help. No one would help her now, her efforts made futile by the morning hour and her skin colour. No one trusted a Negress in his or her home unless she was cleaning it. She turned down an opening hoping it was a thruway. All too soon did she discover it was a dead end. She stopped suddenly, her chest heaving with lost breath and her eyes watering with tears from the cold night. Indistinct sounds bounced off the walls from the end of the walkway. Probably a lady of the night earning her wages. She didn’t turn around when He entered the mouth of the walkway. She simply let her head fall and let Him approach her.

She didn’t shudder when His cold, gloved hand swept her thick hair away from her neck. She could feel icicles begin to form on her neck as His breaths lightly touched her skin. “Why do you fear me?” He whispered an edge of hurt in His voice. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She wanted to answer Him, tell Him of the stories she had heard as a little girl, but her voice could not find her. Her throat seemed to be frozen over. “Do not fear me for I am here to love you the way you should be loved.” She felt His lips press to her skin. They were surprisingly warm.

“But now is not right,” He continued. “I shall have you one day, my love. Wait for me.”

“Always,” she breathed, but he was gone.

***
“Good morning, Vietnam!” The television popped on showing Robin Williams screaming into a makeshift studio microphone and disturbing Keeno Chambers from her sleep. Routinely, she grabbed the remote from her nightstand and shut off the television. It was no use; her house “guests” were already up and making just as much noise. She moaned with waking stress and threw the comforters off of her body. Slowly she made her way out of her bedroom and towards the bathroom only to find it occupied. Growling obscenities to herself, she descended the stairs to the second bathroom in the house. To the relief of her bladder it was not in use, but all of her toiletries were in her bathroom upstairs.
Annoyed and tired she rinsed out her mouth with the fixture Listerine on the sink’s edge. As she looked up into the mirror for the first time, she noticed the tearstains running down her cheeks. She shrugged and shuffled into the kitchen where she witnessed part of the daily pandemonium. Her head shifted to the side in wonder as she watched her brother’s twin boys run laps around the island. A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. They were adorable little hell raisers.

“Keeno!” She looked up to see her brother smiling.

“What is it now, Kent?” she asked, her voice still husky with early morning phlegm. He rounded the island, sidestepping his boys with his arms outstretched.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love you?” Kent was a handsome man with the perfect smile, but didn’t have a knack for hiding much.

“What did they break?” she continued. She walked into the kitchen and towards the counter space where her coffee machine would usually be. “Where is my Krups?”

“Uh, that’s I wanted to talk to you about,” he said bashfully. He began to do that funny thing with his foot and chewing the corner of his mouth.

“How the f-?” She stopped herself and sighed. “Make me the best damned cup of instant coffee a human could possibly make and I’ll think about forgiving you.”

“Yes, of course,” he said obviously relieved his younger sister wasn’t too mad with him. One of the boys crash-landed into the back of her thigh, wrapping his tiny arms around her tight.

“Kenny, you scared me! C’mere!” She picked him up and started tickling him relentlessly. The toddler’s giggles ignited a warm spot in Keeno’s belly. Kent smiled.

“What about them?”

“They’re automatically forgiven,” she said, dropping Kenny and picking up Kyle for his tickling session for the morning. “And who the hell is in my bathroom?”

“Oh, yeah! That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Who is it, Kent?” she asked, her tone strong. She didn’t break her stride with Kyle in her arms.

He flushed and bit his nails. “It’s Jon.”

“Who?” she asked, her voice shrilling. “Oh, wait, wasn’t that that guy you dated for about a month and then he pissed you off for some reason?”

“Yeah, well, he called me on Monday and we made up last night.”

“Ew, Kent. In my house?” she groaned and rolled her chestnut eyes.

“Look, honey. Just because your bed ain’t getting no action doesn’t mean mine can’t,” he snapped, turning away. She laughed heartily and set Kyle down to chase his brother.

“Get on my morning coffee before I flip out!” she called back as she made her way up the stairs. As she reached the top she could hear her cell phone ringing. “Never fails,” she muttered and dashed into her room. She flipped open the phone. “Chambers.”

“Yeah, it’s me,” the gruff voice came through.

“Myers, what’s up?” she asked hopping onto her bed.

“We got another stiff,” he reported.

“Aw, Navarro, it’s too early for this shit,” she groaned.

“I know, I know, but this one’s a little different,” he said, a new light in his voice. She loved the sound of her partner’s voice, so deep and smooth and powerful. A smile tugged at her mouth instinctively.

“What is it?”

“This one’s out in Jersey.”

“What? Jersey?”

“Uh-huh. And they want us on it,” he continued. “Profile’s the same, but in a different area. She’s on a friggin’ train.”

“NJ Transit?” she joked.

“Yup.”

“But why us? This is crossing state lines. Feds should be all over this for us.”

“You know why. Plus the black suits are going to be there. They just want us as background I guess.”

“Just wonderful.” She sighed.

“I’m on my way out there now. You want me to pick you up?”

“Nah, I’ll make the drive out,” she said rubbing her face.

“Kids driving you nuts?” he asked chuckling.

“Unremittingly. I’ll see you in half.”

***
She made her way through the crowd at the Cranford train station, flashing her badge at anyone who gave her a funny look. She ran into Navarro Myers before she reached the edge of the platform. “Hey, there. Have you seen anything?”

“Nope, got here about two minutes before you did,” he said, his grey eyes twinkling at her. His longish dark brown hair whipped about his face, but he made no effort to handle it. He turned from her and hopped down from the platform. As she neared the edge he turned back to her and helped her down, holding onto her waist. A tense moment passed between them, but Keeno chose to ignore it. She simply dusted herself off and began the walk towards the stopped train. “You smell good.”

“Comes with the shower,” she muttered. “How come it took you so long to make it out here?”

“Took the long way, I guess,” he said smiling. That meant he drove from his apartment in the Lower East Side to her penthouse in midtown to check if she had left yet. Traffic was horrendous because of a bus/car accident on 15th and 5th. She knew he must’ve been cursing the day she was born after he’d discovered she wasn’t home. She didn’t return the smile and looked straight ahead towards the still train.
The scene was crawling with black suits.

“Surprised they didn’t blow half the evidence away with their black horses of steel,” she muttered, poking her chin out at the melodramatic group. Just then, the air was cut up by the clapping sounds of a descending helicopter.

“Spoke too soon,” Navarro mumbled as they stood still with their hands as visors on their brows. It was redirected to a parking lot two blocks where the black vans were parked. Keeno rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk. A uniformed officer was nearing them. He was a rookie. She could tell by the pale look on his face and the remains of spittle on his chin.

“What have we got!” she shouted at him before he could stop running. He came to a dead halt and stooped over, regurgitating the rest of his breakfast. “Jesus Christ, kid.” She smacked his back as he began to choke on his own vomit. He calmed after a moment or two and nervously wiped his bottom lip with the back of his hand. “That bad, huh?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, unfolding himself. He avoided her stare.

She routinely flashed her badge at him. “Detective Chambers and this is my partner Detective Myers.”

“I know,” the young man said after popping a Tic-Tac into his mouth. ‘You’re going to need more than that, kid,’ she thought. “We got word you were coming out here along with those guys.” He pointed back towards the train.

“We’re not with them,” she said quickly. She hated to be associated with stiff-necks. “Who are you?”

“Officer Ramos, ma’am,” he answered more politely.

“Just started on the force?”

“Not really. This is my third year. Just never seen anything like this before,” he said his voice losing intensity. His gaze went over her head and into another world.

“Hey! Get a hold of yourself,” she said gently, poking his arm.

“Sorry, ma’am. It’s just–”

“Freaky,” Navarro finished for him. He stepped a little closer to them and urged them to walk forward towards the train. “We know. Show us the goods, kid.”


“Jesus Christ,” Navarro hissed, covering his mouth with a handkerchief.

“Wow,” was all Keeno could say. “Did more damage than the last two.” She stepped out from behind Navarro and neared the body. She examined what she could from the odd position her body was in, half-standing in the aisle. “Did your people dust already?”

“Yeah, we did,” another young man answered for her. Ramos stayed outside of the train, fearing he’d embarrass himself further if he stepped back into the car.

“Get me some plastic,” she demanded. Murmurs sounded and the rustling of a bag neared her. She grabbed the Shop Rite bag from someone she didn’t even bother to look at no less thank and placed it onto the seat. She eased her body next to the woman, careful not to disturb her.

Navarro stood dangerously close to her with a dust mask on, his left hand holding out one for her. She took it while consciously trying not to touch his hand. “This one looks like she was drained.”

“Yeah, definitely,” he mumbled. “Blood clotted on her cheek. Blood on the widow was coagulated.” He stretched his body further over her. His soft scent filled her nostrils and she almost shuddered. “She was drained well before this stab wound was inflicted, but it doesn’t look post-mortem.”

“Now how in the hell is that possible?” another voice came from behind them. Navarro stood straight up, clearing Keeno’s view of the pair of male black suits behind him. Both were tall, pale, and trying to be menacing. Males’ case, males’ egos. This was going to be a ball for Keeno. Instantly she was hoping for a quick case, knowing full well it wasn’t going to be.

“Expect the impossible on this case,” Keeno said calmly, sliding the mask down to her throat. She glanced at Navarro who was too busy gritting his teeth to say anything. She was always the more levelheaded one of the two. She smiled a little as she spoke again. “I’d imagine the two of you were briefed on this case.”

“We don’t get briefed on the other stiffs until we’ve seen the first that pulled us in here in the first place,” Black Suit #2 replied. They were both wearing those ridiculous aviator glasses and had the bulky earpieces sticking out of their ears. They must’ve been rookies too. Black Suit #2 stuck out his hand, but Keeno stopped him from speaking.

“Fuck formalities,” she said evenly, standing up. “You guys don’t know shit about this case so I’d imagine that you’d stay out of our way until you have shit to talk about.” He dropped his hand to his side, partially out of shock. Black Suit #1 took of his shades, revealing light brown eyes.

“We’re hoping to work together on this case and get this guy off the streets,” he said, sarcasm hinting in his words.

“Yeah, right,” Navarro muttered, sliding his mask off. “We know how this works. To you guys collaboration means sit back and let the little guys run around while you get the credit in the end. Kiss my ass from the start. Someone get this body out of here!” Two men hustled up from the back of the train with a gurney and body bag. “Be careful with her head. Might be a little loose.” Navarro began to walk towards the back of the car where the coroners came from.

“Check where this stiff is going,” Keeno called after him. He waved her away without turning around. She turned back to the Black Suits. “He’s really a great guy once you get to know him.” She rolled her eyes. The Suits looked back at her blankly, not sure whether or not to laugh. “That was a joke. He’s an asshole all around.”

“Of course,” B.S. #2 said smiling uneasily.

“Where are you guys staying?”

“Marriott Marquis,” B.S. #1 answered.

“Dayum,” she said. “Maybe I should join the F.B.I. They put you guys in set-ups like that all the time?”

“Uh, sometimes,” B.S. #2 replied nervously. She chuckled. She definitely had the upper hand with these guys. They were, for sure, rookies.

“Okay, let’s get some breakfast, boys,” she cheerily, turning them away from the scene and towards the exit of the train car.

***
Keeno bit into her buttered Manhattan bagel as she eyed the two Suits. Navarro decided it best that they traveled with her back into the city. He’d drop his car off and meet up with them. He still hadn’t said a word to them. “Where are you guys from?” she asked.

“Arizona,” B.S. #1 answered after his sip of black coffee.

“Arizona? What the hell?” she muttered.

“What are your names?” Navarro asked.

“Agents Cisco and Wylan,” B.S. #2 answered. He was Wylan, blue-eyed and freckled with strawberry-blonde hair. Cisco was blonde with light brown eyes. Wylan was younger than Cisco by at least four years; neither of them was truly experienced in the field.

“Detective Myers and this is my partner Detective Chambers,” Navarro replied routinely.

“We know who you are,” Cisco answered with a smart grin on his face. “Only the two best profilers in the north east.”

“That’s a matter of opinion,” Keeno spat.

“That’s a matter of truth, if you don’t mind me saying so,” Wylan shot back. “You, Ms Chambers, are the youngest detective and profiler in the NYPD. You, Detective Myers, are the most perceptive and persistent detective on this coast. Together the two of you have solved over one hundred cold cases in three years and eighty-seven stumpers in two years. You guys are beyond brilliant.”

Keeno continued to chew, only slightly impressed. Navarro sipped his coffee and didn’t even give them a glance. “How do you know all of this?”

“We study,” Wylan said smugly.

“Well, all of it’s bullshit,” Navarro said lowly, putting down his coffee cup and picking up his bagel. The grin faded between the two of them. “You guys sure you don’t want one of these bagels? They are really good. You can’t leave New York without trying our pizza or bagels.”

“Yeah, right. Another time,” Cisco gruffed his bubble completely busted. “We need to head over to the pathologist to check out that stiff.”

“Slow down there, big boy,” Keeno teased. “We are going to check on that stiff. You are going to do some research. Those other stiffs are already past history. You’ll need to get briefed before you even breathe near anything dealing with this case.”

Wylan swallowed hard, as if thinking of someway to stick up for he and his partner. “Uh, we were told that we’d have to assist you in every facet of this case from this point on. You were to be the ones to brief us on this case.”

Keeno looked at Navarro as he stared at her. They smiled. “Fine,” Keeno said, putting down the bagel. “Let’s go look at some stiffs.”

***
“Henry, darling, it has been too long,” Keeno called endearingly as they signed in.

“Oh, Lord, not you again,” the young Chinese man said rolling his eyes and smiling as he walked past the window. “I just got word of the body so you’ll get a fresh show.”

“Mm, goody,” Navarro said rubbing his hands together. “Ever seen an autopsy, boys?” They shook their heads. “Well, here’s your chance.”

“Henry, these men are Agents Cisco and Wylan,” Keeno explained as they all walked through the double doors into the actual morgue. “They will be assisting us on this case.”

“Yeah, I did hear this one was taken from Jersey,” Henry quizzed. “Why’d they do that?”

“Politics,” she said simply. “Agents, this is forensic scientist and pathologist, Doctor Henry Wong. He’s helped us in many of the cases you read about.” They shook hands. Henry got right down to it.

“I hear this one’s worse than the others,” he said as he made his way over to his table. The body was covered in a relatively clean white sheet.

“Yes, indeed it is,” Navarro muttered, dragging his hand through his hair. Henry snapped on his gloves and pulled his mask down from the top of his head.

“Lady and gentlemen, I present to you the corpse of the day.” He pulled back the sheet to reveal the pale lifeless body. The odor followed soon after. Cisco began coughing and Wylan turned away. They hadn’t even looked at the body while it was still on the scene.

“Get masks from over there and gloves are right next to it,” Keeno suggested. She handed Navarro his protection. They peered at the body and instantly she noticed something different. “Her eyes are open.”

“What?” Henry said dropping the utensil he had in his hand back onto the metal tray.

“Her eyes are open,” she repeated. “They weren’t open when we first saw her.”

“Maybe it was a reflex,” Wylan suggested innocently.

“Expect the impossible on this case, Agent,”
Navarro echoed hauntingly.

“I noticed that with the second corpse,” Henry commented turning away from them and walking towards his file cabinet. The others followed as Keeno examined the young lady further. She enjoyed examining a body but didn’t have the stomach for a pathologist’s work. The thought of dissecting and handling a person’s innards made her slightly squeamish.

“Who are you?” she asked rhetorically as she dipped in further. Her eyes were pearl coloured and beautiful. Her face appeared to make her in her early twenties but her brilliant red hair suggested otherwise, possessing clumps of gray. Her mouth was upturned in a slight smile that Keeno had noticed before, but now it was even more pronounced. ‘The other girls were smiling too,’ she remembered. She brought a gloved finger to the gash on the side of the woman’s face. It appeared as if though the skin was torn from a smaller wound. Her finger touched the cut and new blood began to flow. “Oh, shit,” she said just loud enough for the others to hear.

“What happened?” Henry asked as they wall began to walk over to her. As she turned around to explain what happened, something grabbed her neck and everything came to a screeching halt. The hand was ice cold but the breath was warm as the woman began to speak.

“He wants you,” she whispered.

“What?” she sputtered.

“He wants you,” she repeated.

“Who are you?”

“Who I am does not matter,” the woman answered. “What matters is that more of the Sisters will die and there is nothing you can do about it. He won’t stop until He has want He wants.”

“What does he want from me?” Keeno asked her voice quivering.

“Your love,” she whispered vaguely and let go of her.

“Are you all right, Keeno?” Navarro asked snapping her back into reality. “Keeno, speak.” He had his hands on her shoulders and was squeezing gently.

“Y-yeah, I-I’m fine,” she sputtered. “I just-I need some fresh air.” She needed to get away from his stare, away from that overly concerned look in his eyes that went far beyond their work-related friendship.

“You want me to go with you?” he persisted.

“No, no, I’m fine. I just need to go for a little bit,” she said, a little less than convincingly. He wasn’t buying it, but decided to leave it alone.

“All right, then,” he conceded, letting go of her. “Just wash your hand off before you go any further. Why did you touch that body without gloves anyway?”

She was going to tell him that she did have gloves on, but she decided against it, thinking that he might call her nuts.