I Know What I Witnessed

Book summary

While driving through Northern Wisconsin, visual artist Claire Sullivan witnesses a chilling crime, leading to a life-changing accident. Awakening with shattered memories, Claire struggles to distinguish reality from illusion as she pieces together fragmented recollections. Is she seeing a serial killer's work, or are they just figments of her mind?

I KNOW WHAT I WITNESSED is a gripping thriller that keeps readers on edge.

Excerpt from I Know What I Witnessed

Three elements defined Claire Sullivan’s existence: stability, security, and her connections with others. None of them would survive what was coming.

By the smile on her face, Claire seemed to enjoy the sensation of driving her blue Nissan Sentra along the roads weaving through Wisconsin’s Northwoods, where the allure of spring intertwined with the enigmatic nature of age-old trees. A visual artist with a soul filled with creativity, she was making her way back to Rhinelander following a few days’ stay at her cousin Lily’s house in Antigo. Recollections of laughter and shared stories from her time with her cousin remained, while the descending sun signaled her proximity to home.

A lovely woman in her early thirties, Claire possessed a timeless beauty that seemed to capture the essence of every era. Her glossy blonde hair, along with eyes that held a blend of blue and green, provided her with a notably youthful appearance. Her roots lay in Green Bay, yet it was within the strokes of her paintbrush that she discovered her true self. The local art school had polished her raw talent into proficiency, driven by the passionate influence of her mentors. When life orchestrated an unexpected opportunity a year ago, leading Claire and her husband to Rhinelander, she’d embraced the new adventure with open arms, eager to let this change color her canvas anew.

As the tires glided across the asphalt, the small town of Elcho approached. The car’s low fuel warning light blinked as if to emphasize the immediate need, and Claire decided to address its urgent plea. The local gas station, with its modest convenience store, offered a welcome break from the road’s journey.

Her Nissan came to a gentle stop, and Claire stepped out, her presence a revitalizing addition to the serene surroundings. The gas station had an inviting ambiance, though the air carried the unmistakable odor of gasoline. Claire’s steps were purposeful as she approached the pump, a silent sentinel standing guard over the quiet space. Numbers danced on the display, revealing the price per gallon. With a grace that mirrored her artistry, Claire swiped her credit card, her eyes narrowing as she verified the amount. Satisfied, she pressed the button, and the pump responded with a low mechanical murmur.

After filling up her vehicle, Claire stepped into the humble store. A bell chimed above her as she entered, and the aroma of snacks and fresh coffee embraced her. She made her way to the confectionery aisle, her fingers brushing over the familiar packaging of Twix. With a slight smile, she plucked a couple of bars and continued to the counter, where a middle-aged woman with warm eyes was poised to assist.

“Hi there,” the cashier greeted with a friendly tone. “Just the Twix today?”

“Yes, that’s all,” Claire nodded, her smile echoing the kindness she received.

As the transaction flowed effortlessly, a flicker of movement caught Claire’s attention. A television perched above the cashier’s station illuminated the space with its blue-white glow. The screen showcased a news segment airing on NBC12, and the anchor’s voice reverberated throughout the store.

“The disappearance of twenty-two-year-old Emily Parker has sent shockwaves through Oneida County. Parker, last seen three days ago in Rhinelander, is the fourth young woman to go missing in the area within the last few months. The Oneida County Sheriff’s Department, which is in charge of the investigations, has not ruled out the possibility of a serial killer in the region. While no direct evidence links these disappearances, the unsettling patterns of age and proximity have led investigators to consider this grim possibility.”

Claire’s eyes fixated on the screen. The anchor’s words pulled her into the unfolding mystery. The news report continued, painting a haunting picture of a community gripped by fear and uncertainty. The disappearance of four young women had cast a chilling pall over the once-tranquil region.

“Poor women, so young,” the cashier mused, her gaze fixed on the television screen.

“It must be horrific for their families, living through something like this,” Claire nodded in agreement, a heaviness settling in her chest.

“It’s brutal, especially for a small community like Rhinelander,” remarked the cashier.

Claire leaned against the counter, her thoughts drifting back to the days when she’d first arrived in the city just a year ago.

“You know, when I moved there, it seemed like a place untouched by the chaos of the rest of the world. Quiet, serene…”

“Oh, so you live there?” asked the cashier, her eyebrows lifted in mild surprise.

“Yes, I do,” Claire confirmed. “But lately, it feels like things are changing in the whole county. This series of disappearances… it’s unsettling.”

“I hear you. It’s a stark contrast to the days when the only monster that Rhinelander had to worry about was the Hodag.”

“Exactly,” Claire’s smile grew, a touch of amusement coloring her expression. “That mythical creature with pointed horns, sharp teeth and spiky spines along its back, right?”

“It has become a sort of local mascot.” The cashier’s chuckle echoed through the store, a brief moment of connection amidst the weight of somber news.

“Sure thing!” Claire acknowledged with a gentle smile as she bid farewell to the cashier. “Well, I have to go now. Take care!”

“Thanks for the chat!” the cashier replied, a sense of genuine appreciation evident in her voice.

As Claire stepped out of the store, the first raindrops tapped against her skin, a harbinger of a typical late afternoon spring shower. She glanced up at the sky, considering whether to wait for the rain to pass, but the looming darkness tugged at her, and the desire to reach home prevailed. The road beckoned, and she embarked on the final stretch of her journey.

The rain’s melody played on the roof of her car, a soothing symphony that accompanied Claire’s thoughts. Unwrapping the Twix, she took occasional bites while driving, her hands deftly managing the steering wheel and the treat, as the chocolate and caramel flavors mingled with the rain-scented air.

A few miles down the road from the gas station, Claire reached out to the car’s radio dial, her fingers brushing against the sleek surface. The speakers crackled to life, and a familiar tune filled the vehicle. The song ‘Have You Ever Seen the Rain’ by Creedence Clearwater Revival streamed through the sound equipment, and Claire’s lips curved into an authentic expression of delight. Outside, the rain seemed to dance to the rhythm of the music, a synchronized performance that resonated with her soul.

Claire softly sang along as the chorus arrived, expressing the rewarding sensation of witnessing rain amidst the lively atmosphere of what was supposed to be a sunny day. However, as if the world itself had conspired to catch her off guard, a flurry of feathers and frantic motion disrupted the idyllic scene. A bird collided violently with her windshield, a jarring impact that shattered the tranquility.

Claire’s heart pounded as her instincts took over, prompting her to slam the brake pedal. The car screeched to a halt, tires protesting against the wet road. Her hands trembled as they landed on her chest, the rapid pulse of fear echoing the adrenaline coursing through her veins. In that disorienting moment, the rain seemed to fall more heavily, a symphony of chaos blending with the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat. The collision had shattered the brief respite, and Claire found herself face-to-face with a startling reminder that danger could strike from the most unexpected corners.

Rain pelted down with unrelenting fervor as Claire stepped out of her car, a hoodie jacket pulled over her head as makeshift protection. Her eyes fell upon the lifeless bird and the gruesome stains it had left on her windshield. A shudder ran through her as she processed the sight. Nature’s beauty and cruelty were often intertwined, and she found herself caught in their crosshairs.

Swallowing her discomfort, Claire retreated to the safety of her car. Her fingers fumbled for an empty grocery bag in the backseat, and she pulled it on like an ill-fitting glove. With self-evident disgust, she reached out and gingerly collected the bird’s lifeless form, its fragile body serving as an unconventional reminder of mortality. As she tossed the dead creature into the forest by the roadside, a murmur escaped her lips, a mix of reverence and distaste for the cycle of life and death.

Returning to the vehicle, Claire found a fresh focus in the mundane task of cleaning the windshield. The wipers swiped away the evidence of the bird’s collision, but the image was imprinted on her mind. Her gaze, however, was drawn to something beyond the glass – a black car nestled within the trees of the opposite forest. A rush of adrenaline surged within her, a mixture of intrigue and concern fueling her curiosity.

While crossing the road, Claire’s steps were measured yet determined, her mind flooded with possibilities. Her intentions were noble, driven by the instinct to help, but the thrill of the unknown danced on the edges of her thoughts. The rain-soaked woods seemed to hold secrets, the droplets whispering their enigmatic tales as they cascaded through leaves and branches.

Approaching the parked car nestled among the trees, Claire’s attention fell upon the open trunk, a silent invitation into a mystery she hadn’t asked for. The car was positioned to face a narrow path leading to a lake, the scene bathed in the subdued hues of the setting sun. A peculiar sound reached her ears, a strange noise amidst the rain’s percussion. Claire’s curiosity overcame her hesitation, urging her toward the lake’s edge. With cautious steps, she moved through the undergrowth, each footfall a whisper of intent. Finding refuge behind a tree, she peered out, her vision partially obstructed by the fading light. Yet, even through the veils of rain and dusk, a discernible scene unfolded before her.

A rowboat bobbed gently on the lake’s surface, tethered to a weathered dock. At the water’s edge stood a solitary figure that looked like a man wearing a beanie and a black work jacket, typical of lumberjacks and fishermen, his back turned to her. As if the elements conspired to obscure her view, the sinking sun stretched shadows across the area.

Her breath caught in her throat as she watched the man’s actions. With deliberate movements, he hoisted something heavy from the boat, a shadowy mass that sent tendrils of unease down Claire’s spine. The weighty object hung suspended for a moment before a splash punctuated the air, the lake accepting the mysterious offering.

As if an unspoken connection had formed across the distance, the man by the lake slowly began to turn his head, a motion heavy with a sense of discovery. Claire’s instincts flared, a primal warning that sent her retreating like a shadow slipping away. As she retraced her path through the undergrowth, her footsteps marked a rapid cadence against the damp soil, while her heart mirrored the rhythm of the endless rain.