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Remembering Dresden (Jack Turner Suspense Series) (Book 2)

By Dan Walsh

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The Present


How was it that just being in a certain place could give you the creeps? Jack Turner never understood it.
He wasn’t superstitious. He was a rational, level-headed guy with a fairly disciplined mind. Nevertheless, he was on his way to check out a lakeside cabin after selling another perfectly good cabin on the same lake less than three miles away.
Just one reason.
The other cabin gave him the creeps.
They’d start the moment Jack would drive onto the property and intensify by degrees the closer he got to the front door. Once inside, the tension would become almost unbearable. Jack hadn’t even been there when the murder was committed. The first time he had actually been inside the cabin, everything had been cleaned up. But he had seen the crime scene photos and video. And Sergeant Joe Boyd, the officer in charge of the case, had explained what happened. In detail.
Jack could see it all in his mind; imagine the entire scenario as it unfolded that crazy day and night almost one year ago. He could see where the body lay, a single gunshot wound to the chest. The dead stare in the eyes. He could feel the fear the victim must have felt in the moments before the fatal shot. He’d known the same fear when the same killer had come after him.
As bad as it was, some good had come out of the tragedy. Jack had inherited the dead man’s condominium and his cabin on Lake Sampson.
The cabin that gave him the creeps.
After a few months, Jack had been able to sell it to a trio of fishermen who couldn’t care less about its history. He decided to use the money to buy another one. There were hundreds of them in the hills and lakes around Culpepper.
“Turn right in one-quarter mile. Your destination is on the right.” The GPS lady’s voice interrupted Jack’s thoughts.
He looked at the screen then at the row of trees on his right, expecting an opening to appear. It did. A moment later, she stated the obvious, and he turned right. She failed to mention it was a dirt road. Jack hated dirt roads. He wasn’t driving a pickup but a BMW sedan. The car vibrated through the first fifty yards until the road began to smooth out. It stayed smooth until he passed a dirt road on the left. He kept driving till he reached a clearing. The cabin was on the right, a beautiful unobstructed view of the lake on the left.
As he did, his phone rang. It was Rachel. “Hey, Rach. What a nice surprise.”
“Well, I had a few minutes before my next class. Thought I’d take a chance and see if I could reach you.” Rachel Cook was attending Culpepper University. Once again as a student. She’d worked there a few years after getting her bachelor’s as a professor’s assistant but was now studying for her master’s.
“I’m glad you did,” Jack said. “I actually just pulled up at the cabin a few seconds ago.”
“How is it?”
“Haven’t gone in yet, but the outside’s nice. Definitely bigger than the other one. Doesn’t look like anyone has lived here in a while.” He stepped onto a porch that wrapped around the front and side. “No evidence of a woman’s touch.”
“Why do you say that?”
“No wind chimes or little gnomes. No potted plants or flowers.” Something caught his eye about twenty yards away. He stepped off the porch. “Wow, I like this.”
“What? What is it?”
“I’m seeing you and me about two months from now when the evenings cool down, sitting here on these two adirondack chairs facing the water. A fire pit right in front of us. Two cups of hot chocolate.”
“I like the sound of that, but will you still be out there two months from now? I thought you were only leasing the cabin for a month.”
“You’re right. I am. But if this little getaway goes smoothly, and if the cabin looks this nice on the inside, I might just buy it. The owner really wants to sell, but he was open to the idea of leasing it to me for a month, to see if I like it.”
“It’s going to be hard not seeing you for a month,” she said.
“Who said anything about not seeing each other?”
“I thought you were on this retreat with strict orders to get your doctoral dissertation hammered out.”
“Not the whole thing, just the main outline. Maybe the first few chapters. I’ll need some peace and quiet for that. But that’s why I came out here. To get away from all the hassles at the school, not you.”
“I’m glad. So when should I come out?”
“How about tonight? Give me a couple hours to get set up.”
“No, not tonight. That’s too soon. That’ll get you started off on the wrong foot. You really need to get this dissertation going. Last week, you went on and on about how much pressure the school’s putting on you to get it started. Your publisher, too.”
When the school had offered Jack his old Professor’s slot, it was with the understanding that Jack would finish his doctorate. He’d completed half the course work two years ago before coming to Culpepper, then completed the second year of classes this past year…while teaching three of Thornton’s classes. But he hadn’t any time to work on his doctoral dissertation. “You’re right. Okay, I’ll behave. But seriously, I didn’t set up this retreat to take a break from you. You are not a distraction. Well, maybe you are. But a good one.”
“So, have you figured out what the dissertation is going to be about?”
“I’ve narrowed it down to three things. My goal in the first few days is to get it down to one.”
“Well let’s make that our goal then. I’ll come out when you finalize your topic. What three things are you wrestling with?”
“They’re all World War II related.” Jack’s first two published books were about World War II. That’s what his publisher wanted for his next book, too. “One idea contrasts the success we had rebuilding Japan and Germany after the war compared to the total failure of trying to rebuild Iraq. Another explores why German technology was so much more advanced than ours, and why none of it helped them win the war.”
“Those sound promising. What’s the third one?”
“It’s a little different and, oddly enough, the one I’m leaning toward. It’s about Dresden.”
“Dresden? Okay…why? The other two make some sense to me. What could you say in a dissertation about Dresden?”
“See? Your reaction proves it. It’s a fairly obscure topic. That could be a plus. A way to help it stand out in a crowd. You probably haven’t heard hardly anything about Dresden, have you?”
“Maybe a little. I think we bombed it or something during the war, right?”
“We more than bombed it. We literally burned it to the ground, killed tens of thousands of civilians in the process. Ever heard of Kurt Vonnegut?”
“The author?”
“Yes.”
“I think we read one of his books in a class.”
“Probably Slaughterhouse Five?” Jack said.
“That’s it.”
“Well, he wrote that partly about Dresden. He was there during the fire-bombing as a POW, witnessed all the horrors that occurred after. But hardly anyone’s ever heard anything about it. It’s almost a forgotten chapter of the war’s history. To me, it’s one of the most intriguing and tragic stories to ever come out of World War II.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll make the whole thing come alive. Anyway, I better get going. Call me again, soon.”

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