Southern Bound - A Paranormal-Mystery (Max Porter Mysteries Book 1) Read Free Page B

shudder. "I'm not happy about it."
    "I see that."
    "But okay."
    Max kissed her hand. "I love you."
    "You piss me off lots, but I love you, too."
    Refilling their glasses, Max said, "So, do you want to hear about Stan Bowman?"
    "No, but you'll tell me anyway."
    They both laughed a bit too hard — the wine contributing as much as the tension. "Okay," Max said, and as he summoned the images and story in his head, his face hardened. Sandra must have seen the change in his demeanor because her laughter died and her concern returned.
    "During World War II," Max began, "Winston-Salem gave three-hundred-and-one men to the fight. Stan Bowman lucked out, though. He only got shot in the leg. Before he left, he was a decent enough man, I guess. Helped out with the scouts and stuff like that. I don't know for sure, of course. Online info isn't that trustworthy. Plus, there's only so much you can get from newspapers and police statements."
    "Police? That doesn't sound good."
    "It isn't. He had a girlfriend, but she left while he was in Africa. By the time he returned to the States, she had married and had a kid. But he met a new gal and married her — Annabelle Grier. She told the police that Stan suffered terrible nightmares, waking up drenched in cold sweat, that kind of thing."
    "Sounds like Post Traumatic Stress."
    Max nodded. "Everything probably would've just settled into your typical nuclear-family, fake-happiness thing, been just fine — except the POWs arrived."
    "POWs?"
    "R. J. Reynolds just about owned all of Winston-Salem. His tobacco company employed a huge percentage of the city. Heck, he built Wake Forest University."
    "Well, his money did."
    "You know what I mean. Anyway, at the time, he was providing the cigarettes for the soldiers. Demand was huge, and he started having trouble keeping up production. So, he managed to get a deal with the government to ship over German POWs and put them to work in his factories."
    "Are you serious?"
    "It's all true. Two hundred and fifty soldiers came, all of them from Rommel's Afrika Korps."
    "And Stan served in Africa."
    "Right."
    "Oh, that can't be good," Sandra said, and Max saw that she had become intrigued. He had to admit it — despite his fears, he was intrigued, too. He sipped his wine, making her wait a moment before he continued.
    "About a month after the Germans arrived, Stan goes missing. Annabelle contacts the police, says she hasn't seen Stan in two days, but apparently, they don't give her much credence. Stan had been known as a heavy drinker, so the police figured he'd gone on a binge and would turn up sooner or later. Of course, Stan wasn't drinking."
    "Of course."
    "One by one in turn, seven POWs go missing. Each one abducted from the factory floor," Max said, pausing to let his words sink deep inside.
    "Wait," Sandra said a moment later. "How's that possible? I mean, these are POWs. There had to be guards all around. I know our government can do some stupid things, but they wouldn't let a bunch of German soldiers loose in America. Would they?"
    "No, honey, there were plenty of guards. Best anybody figured out was that the abductions took place during bathroom breaks. But here's where it gets interesting. In each case, the prisoner was found several days later, gibbering like a madman, completely nuts. Only one thing they said made any sense — each one mentions the name Stan Bowman. The police go on a manhunt, but nobody ever finds Stan. A private detective, however, does locate this little apartment-type room in an old warehouse. The place must have reeked of tobacco. Inside, they find Stan's workplace. He'd been torturing these men, but not just physically. He messed with their heads. Hours and hours of slow, mind-boggling torture."
    Sandra stood to clear the table. "And they never found him?"
    "He disappeared."
    She placed a hand on her hip. "You can't possibly be serious about following this."
    "Why not? It's fascinating."
    "Hon, you're talking about crazy