by WL Knightly
“I’m very sorry, Mr. Kirk,” said Lizzy. She took out her phone and dialed the station to call it in as Darek stayed with the old man.
A minute later, the man looked up at Darek. “May I see her?”
“If you want to, but understand, it’s not a good image, sir. She’s pale, and she looks like she’s been there a little while.” Lividity had already made an ugly corpse, and she had turned blue from the cold of the water.
“I don’t care,” said Mr. Kirk. “I have to go to her. She’s my child.”
“I completely understand. I’ll take you to see her, but with the nature of your son-in-law’s death, I know we’re going to process this like a homicide just to be certain. So, I’d rather you not go all the way inside.” Darek took the man’s hand and helped him up, and then he walked him into the bathroom.
Mr. Kirk looked in the door but couldn’t go in any farther. “She wouldn’t do that to herself,” he said. “She wouldn’t have been able to do that to herself, or to me or her mother.”
Darek had heard that from many parents through the years, and no one ever believed their children capable. But anyone could do it under the right circumstances and the right amount of grief. The young woman had just lost her husband, to a murder, no less, and that was something he knew took a toll.
But he didn’t think it was a suicide for a different reason, and he needed time alone with Lizzy to discuss it. He decided to walk Mr. Kirk out, and then he called Lizzy into the room.
She stepped away, and they stood in the doorway of the bathroom where Lizzy could see the scene for herself. “What a mess,” she whispered.
“Yeah, and we have to process it like a homicide. I don’t think she did it.”
“Why wouldn’t she come see us first? We are helping to solve her husband’s murder. If she could have helped, she would have come forward, and from our initial conversations, it seemed she had information.”
“I agree. She would have wanted to help, even if she had decided to end it all.”
“Unless she didn’t want us to see that she was overly depressed.” Lizzy shrugged. It was the most they’d said to one another in a decent tone, and he was glad they could put their shit aside to help the old man.
Lizzy let out a long breath. “She might have been manic.”
Darek knew there were so many possibilities that they could stand around guessing all day. “We’ll have to order a tox report. If she was on anything, it could have aided in this.”
“I’ll ask her father if she was on any prescription medications and talk to him about her belongings.”
He placed his hand on her arm. “Hey, we work well together, you know? I mean, when we’re not fighting.” He searched her eyes, hoping she understood. She had threatened to have him taken off of the case.
“One thing at a time, Darek.” She let out a long breath and turned and walked out to join Mr. Kirk.
Darek sank against the door jamb and looked back at Seth’s wife. If Lizzy went to Sam with her request, Darek’s career would be dead in the water too.
Chapter 25
Alan
Alan woke up hours later to the sounds and smells of bacon frying. His internal clock was so screwed up that he didn’t know how long he’d been out. “Did I sleep all night?” He glanced at the window, and the sun was low in the sky.
Corey laughed. “No, it’s evening. I fell asleep too, and we both missed lunch. I decided to cook. I hope you like breakfast for dinner.”
Alan closed the recliner and unplugged his phone, which was now sitting on a hundred percent, plenty to hold him until he got back home to Vegas. There were no new messages. “I’ll grab a bite, and then I’m going to bail. The mother fucker isn’t going to message me back.” He walked over and sat at the bar.
“Well, don’t come back here if they do,” said Corey from across the kitchen. “My hospitality ends when you head out. We’ll keep in touch via text, and I’ll help you out with the next move, but I’m done with people showing up here to put a bullet in me.”
Alan’s chest burned with a sinking feeling of shame. “I don’t blame you, but in fairness, I didn’t even try.”
“Yeah, same difference. Anyway, I’m going to tell Darek that I don’t think the list had any other details on it. I looked over that thing again earlier, and there’s nothing there. Frankly, I’ve got other shit to worry about. I’ve missed too much work as it is with this drama.”
“I hear ya. I get to go back to Las Vegas, sell my house, pack up my life, the wife, and kids, and then head out to I don’t know where. Do you have any suggestions?”
“How about Montana? Alaska. You know, somewhere in the other direction. I think Carter Hamilton would agree it’s best if you go far away from us both.”
“I’m thinking a border town, somewhere I can make a quick escape to another country. I’ll never get Jamie to agree that we should move out of the country permanently, and as funny as Alaska sounds, that’s my second choice.”
Corey turned and took two plates from the cabinet. “I hear its beautiful. I’ve never been.”
“Me either, but I can see my son and me fishing and hunting. I think Jamie and Rory will have something to say about it though. Jamie hates the cold.”
“Then good luck with that,” said Corey with a laugh. He plated their food and then walked over to the bar. “Here, I hope you like them scrambled.”
Alan looked down at the plate of bacon and eggs and realized it was the first meal he’d seen in days. “Thanks, man. You’re too good to me.” He dug into the eggs and took a huge forkful into his mouth. They were perfect. “These might be the best eggs I’ve ever had.”
“It might be because you haven’t eaten. I can’t really cook much, but my mother taught me to make eggs. She couldn’t cook either, really, and didn’t try often. But eggs; that was her specialty. She could make them any way you wanted them.”
Corey was interrupted by Alan’s phone making a buzzing sound.
Alan quickly dropped his fork. “That’s a text.” He grabbed his phone from his pocket and turned it on to check the message. “Shit.” Alan’s face went pale.
“What is it, man?” Corey’s fork hit the table, and he shifted closer.
Alan’s heart started to pound. “They know it’s a fake.”
“What?” Corey grabbed his arm to read the message.
Alan aimed the screen in his direction. “See? The photo, they think it was a fake. They say they know you’re not dead.”
“How? The photo looked authentic enough, and if they know it’s a fake, then they’re watching us.” He got up and walked to his window, but there wasn’t anything around to make him think that someone could look in on him.
“Social media activity? Maybe whoever it is has us all on social media. Have you posted anything on a site or message board?”
Corey turned and threw out his arms. “What the fuck am I going to say? Hey world, there’s a crazy killer after me, and they sent my old friend to do their dirty work? Oh, and by the way, I tortured a girl when I was a kid, so I am getting what I deserve.”
“Maybe your apartment is bugged then. Have you had any maintenance done lately? Someone from the cable or phone company?”
Corey rolled his eyes. “I have a cell phone, and I only watch illegally obtained cinema or shit the internet.”
“You’re a pirate?” Alan shook his head. “You’re probably on a few watchlists then. Great. If they don’t get you, the government will.” He thought of how the guy had hacked into the phone number and found those locations, and even though they’d never be able to get a name of the user, it was really interesting to see the man at work. And apparently, he wasn’t the only one with skills. The killer had some way of looking into his world.
“I’m never going to get away from this asshole.” He had just gotten the words out of his mouth when the phone went off again, the vibration in his hand sending his nerves into overdrive. “Shit.” He nearly dropped the
thing. “Fuck.” He shook his head. “They said they’ll have to punish me. Perhaps I should choose, son or daughter.” He read the words again just to make sure he’d read them right.
“That’s fucked up,” said Corey. “Call home, man. See if your wife and kids are okay.”
Alan dialed the number to his wife’s cell phone, but there wasn’t any answer. “No. No. No!” he said. He hung up and tried again. Nothing. “Fuck!” He screamed, and Corey got up from the bar and started to pace the room.
“Call it again,” he said.
“Fuck, Corey. You don’t think they have my fucking kids this time, do you?” Panic set in him when he thought of his son and his sweet little girl being held the same way as their mother; tied and gagged in the dark place, not knowing if they would ever be found. Rory was afraid of the dark. He broke down just thinking of his little girl, and then anger burned inside him. “I swear that asshole better not fucking hurt my kids.” He dialed the number once again, and this time, Jamie answered.
“What the hell, Alan? You know I don’t like to fuck with my phone when I’m driving!” He had never been so excited to hear his wife’s angry voice before.
“Jam, thank god. Where are you?”
“I’m with Starla,” she said. “We’re taking the kids to the water park again.”
“They’re with you?” He breathed a sigh of relief as he heard his daughter’s voice in the background.
“Duh. Are you okay? I’ve been worried about you.”
“I’m fine, baby. Just missing you.”
“You don’t sound fine. You sound like something’s wrong. You’re still coming home tonight, aren’t you?” His wife’s voice was so full of concern, and it was nice to be needed and wanted.
“Yeah, baby. I’ll be home.” He knew he’d told her that not knowing for sure. “Just need you to keep the kids close, okay?”
“What’s wrong, Alan. I can tell by your tone that there is something bad going on. Are you in trouble again?” Her tone changed, and her voice filled with concern.
“It’s nothing to worry about, okay. It’s just—”
“You tell me it’s nothing after what I went through? Are you out of your mind? I swear, Alan. You better not put me or our children in danger with any more of your shit. Is this a run you’re doing?”
He had gotten mixed up with Benny before and had to do a drug run for the old man. “No, it’s not like that.”
“How do I know? I swear, Starla warned me, but no, I didn’t listen. I wanted to make things work.”
“And they will, baby. It’s nothing; I was just feeling bad about what happened is all. I’ll be home, and we’ll talk, okay?” He couldn’t lose her again. He had to know there was hope.
“Fine. I’ve got to go.” She hung up the phone, and he looked at the phone to see the screen go dark.
“Fuck.”
“If she’s okay, that means the killer is just fucking with you.”
“I’ve got to get home to my kids, but shit, I’m scared to death. I’m scared that I’m not any good for them, you know?”
“You’re their father,” said Corey.
“Yeah, the eternal fuck up they were unfortunate enough to get stuck with. I’ve made a mess with everything, and it’s just a matter of time before the cops catch up with me anyway. They are bound to talk to someone who saw me or find the murder weapon I ditched at the fucking airport.” He pushed his plate of food away. “I can’t eat this, man. I’ve got to get going.” He stopped and put his phone down on the bar. “I’ve got to take a piss then I’m out of here.”
Corey walked over to the kitchen side of the bar and tossed his plate in the trash as Alan walked away. “Do you need anything?”
“Nah, man. You’ve done too much already.” He walked across the room and down the hall to the bathroom. After relieving himself, he turned to the sink and ran the water, which he splashed on his face. He let the water run down his neck as he looked up in the mirror.
He wasn’t fooling himself. He wouldn’t be able to go back to the way it used to be, and no matter what he did, he would never be able to get the image of Seth’s final moments out of his mind. He had a long drive home to think about his next move, but he was going to do his damnedest every day to make a good life for Jamie and the kids; to be the husband and father they needed, no matter how hard the grief would be, no matter how hard it would eat at him. Corey had been right; he couldn’t give up.
He opened the door, and when he walked down the hall to go back to the kitchen, Corey stepped out from around the corner holding his phone before he could get out of the hallway.
“Oh, thanks, man,” said Alan, but then Corey held up the gun, aiming it right at Alan. “What are you doing?”
“Sorry, it went off when you were in the bathroom. They want you to video my murder and send it to them.”
He held the phone up, and Alan realized he was on camera.
Trapped in the hall, Alan had nowhere to go. He started backing up, hoping to make it to the bedroom. Where he’d go from there, he had no idea, but maybe he could find another weapon. “I’ll buy more time, Corey, I’ll leave Phoenix and—”
Corey shook his head. “I got the same message. It’s you or me.”
The gun went off before Alan could take another step, and the pressure in his chest was so hard, it pushed him down to the floor.
Corey moved closer, taking aim again, and Alan held up his hand to stop him. “Please, my family,” he said with a gurgle in his throat.
“You were right, after all, Alan. They’ll be much better off without you.”
Alan couldn’t believe how calm Corey was, as if his blood pressure wasn’t even elevated. Then he felt his breath sputter, and the world faded out around him.
To be continued…
The Zodiac story continues with Gemini
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About the Author
WL Knightly is a thriller/murder mystery co-writing pen name for USA Today Best Selling Authors Lexy Timms and Ali Parker.
When she’s not writing, Lexy can be found dealing in Antique Jewelry and hanging out with her awesome hubby and three kids.
Ali is a CPA turned fiction writer who is married to her best friend and travels the US as a nomad. She spends her days writing, traversing the city and chasing her last kiddo in the house, a teenage quipper with too much time on his hands!
The two friends met years ago when they both started writing and publishing in various young adult genres and needed a critique partner. The rest is history…
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Taurus
Zodiac Killers #6
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Copyright © 2018 by WL Knightly
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All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and plot are all either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons – living or dead – is purely coincidental.
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First Edition.
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Editor: Eric Martinez
Cover Art: Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design
