Prologue
Prologue
Captain Jimmy Cole had just finished telling his passengers an old Hudson River ghost story. It was a good one, about an ax murderer in a long, dark coat, perfect for a foggy night like this. He sat back in his chair and rested his knees for a moment, too creaky from too many surgeries, and pondered, for the millionth time, his retirement. He’d seen nearly every hamlet the Hudson had to offer, and one of these days, even a small fishing boat like his, the Suzy, would get the best of him.
Done for the night, he steered his ship for shore, and as it chugged steadily for the dock at Reedsport, one of his passengers called out, jarring him from his reverie.
“Hey, Cap’n—isn’t that your ghost right over there?”
Jimmy didn’t bother to look. All four of his passengers—two young vacationing couples—were pretty drunk. Doubtless one of the guys was just trying to scare the girls.
But then one of the women added: “I see it too. Isn’t it weird?”
Jimmy turned toward his passengers. Goddamn drunks. Last time he’d charter his boat this late at night.
The second man pointed.
“It’s over there,” he said.
His wife covered her eyes.
“Oh, I can’t look!” she said with a nervous and embarrassed laugh.
Jimmy, exasperated, realizing he wasn’t going to get any rest, finally turned and looked where the man was pointing.
In a gap between the shoreline trees, something did catch his eye. It glistened, he thought, and it had a vaguely human shape. Whatever it was, it seemed to float above the ground. But it was too far away to see clearly.
Before Jimmy could reach for his binoculars, the object disappeared behind the trees along the bank.
The truth was, Jimmy had had a few beers himself. That wasn’t a problem as far as he was concerned. He knew this river well. And he liked his job. He especially enjoyed being out on the Hudson at this time of night, when the water was so still and peaceful. Few things out here could shatter his sense of calm.
He slowed and steered the Suzy carefully against the bumpers as he hit the dock. Proud of himself for a gentle landing, he stopped the engine and lashed the boat to the cleats.
The passengers tumbled off the boat giggling and laughing. They staggered down the dock to shore and headed toward their B&B. Jimmy was glad they’d paid in advance.
But he couldn’t stop thinking about that strange object he’d spotted. It was far back down the shoreline and impossible to see from here. Who or what might it be?
Annoyed by it, he knew he wouldn’t get any rest until he figured it out. That was just the way he was.
Jimmy sighed loudly, twice as annoyed, and set off on foot, trudging back along the riverbank, following the train tracks that bordered the water. Those tracks had been in use a hundred years ago when Reedsport was mostly bordellos and gambling houses. Now, they were just another relic to a bygone time.
Jimmy finally rounded a curve and approached an old warehouse near the tracks. A few security lamps on the building cast a dim light, and he saw it: a glistening human shape that seemed to be floating in mid-air. The shape was suspended from one of the crossbeams of a power pole.
As he neared and got a good look, a chill ran up his spine. The shape was truly human—yet it didn’t show any signs of life. The body faced away from him, bound in some kind of fabric and wrapped around and around with heavy chains that crisscrossed and connected far beyond any need to hold a prisoner. The chains glittered in the light.
Oh, God, not again.
Jimmy could not help but remember a gruesome murder that had rocked the whole area several years ago.
His knees weakening, Jimmy walked around to the other side of the body. He stepped close enough to see its face—and he almost fell to the tracks in shock. He recognized her. It was a local woman, a nurse, and a friend of many years. Her throat was slashed, and her dead mouth was gagged open with a chain that wrapped around her head.
Jimmy gasped in grief and horror.
The murderer was back.
