The Chilling Spree

by LS Sygnet

  The Chilling Spree

  By LS Sygnet

  COPYRIGHT 2012 LS Sygnet, Smashwords Edition. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without permission except in the case of brief quotations.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or paper print, without written permission from LS Sygnet.

  The Eriksson Series by LS Sygnet

  Daddy’s Little Killer

  Beneath the Cracks

  Forgotten Place

  The Chilling Spree

  …Coming soon, book 5 – Always Watching

  Title

  Copyright

  The Eriksson Series by LS Sygnet

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 1

  As stupid as this may sound, it started as a dare.

  In hindsight, I wonder if things would’ve gotten as bad as they did if I’d just said no in the beginning. If I hadn’t been weak and female about the whole thing. But no. I fell into the stupid emotional snare, like I was tempting fate to prove me wrong, and… well, things happened that shouldn’t have.

  The horrors of Pandora’s Box were unleashed on a city that should’ve always been prepared, braced for their dire version of reality, and I got sucked in because once again, I’m as weak as Tony Briscoe when someone throws down the gauntlet.

  See, I thought I’d go home and do that social isolation thing, and all would be well. I’d evade, avoid, slide out of the limelight and slip away from Darkwater Bay like the original plan dictated, and forget all about everything that happened here. Ah, the dream. Reality never measures up. Not in the end. Not when a fantasy has taken root because things got personal, attachments formed. Rather than the obvious, the binding ties sneaked up on me in the form of comfort and friendship.

  In the days following Danny Datello’s arrest, the profound grief I felt because Johnny Orion couldn’t remember me was soothed somewhat by two friends who refused to let me hole up licking my wounds. Never mind that I don’t celebrate Christmas, or the fact that they started a week of midnight shifts working robbery-homicide out of Downey Division that night.

  Ned Williams and Devlin Mackenzie were too stubborn to take no for an answer. We spent Christmas evening opening gifts that they had purchased from every convenience store that wasn’t closed for the holiday. Shiny foil shrouded rolls of paper towels, packs of ink pens, a couple of bags of potato chips, a year’s supply of Twinkies, a keychain that reminded me that shit happens, and the coldest reminder of all, a box of condoms. Lots of that cold ambiance going around this holiday season, I suppose.

  I came pretty close to bursting into tears at the sight of it, the fact that it reminded me that when I’d seen Johnny the day before, he looked at me with the utmost of vacant eyes. It nearly unleashed something I don’t want people in Darkwater Bay to know lies under this façade I wear.

  And then Ned confessed.

  “I figured that you’re young and hot and if Orion can’t remember anything, you should be prepared.”

  On the verge of my murderous red-black rage, I gaped at him. “Excuse me?”

  Devlin merely chuckled. “I told you that you’re too old for her, Ned. Besides, what would the missus have to say about this?”

  Ned grinned. “I’ve been married three times. Can’t blame a guy for taking a shot, can you?”

  What little I knew about Ned Williams was that he was an anomaly among men. Yes, he had two ex-wives – both of whom were lunch buddies with his current wife, and there wasn’t an ounce of bad blood between any of them. Knowledge, even a little bit, muted my ire beneath a grin and a shake of the head. “Point made, Ned.”

  He sobered. “I hope you mean that, Helen. You’re too young, too beautiful, and certainly too smart to be devastated by something that was beyond anybody’s control. Even if he never remembers, it doesn’t mean that you don’t have a life ahead of you. Maybe it’s with Johnny, maybe not. Now you’re prepared.”

  An involuntary and unexpected chuckle parted my lips. “Because I am out trolling for dates every night of the week, right?”

  “Only you can change that,” Devlin said. “Who knows?” His shrug added emphasis. “Maybe it’s the jolt Johnny needs to snap him back into reality, you know? Ned told me that yesterday after we left division –”

  “Never mind that for the moment,” Ned cut off his partner softly. “Options open. Enough said.”

  I waited until Ned excused himself because wife number three called to see how our morose little Christmas party was progressing. Then the grilling began.

  “What did he say, Devlin?”

  “Who, Ned?”

  I nodded. “What doesn’t he want me to know? Is Orion already out there again, picking up his typical type of girl like I never existed? Is that what this push to get me to forget about him all about?”

  He grinned. “Much as I’d love to say that it is, you couldn’t be farther from the truth. Ned told me that after we left division yesterday that Johnny came in with Briscoe. We knew that. Hell, we saw them outside.”

  No reminder was necessary. The vacuous gaze flashed against the backs of my eyelids every time I blinked. “And?”

  Dev leaned forward. “Well, I guess Johnny had about a million questions when he came inside.”

  “Naturally,” I muttered. “We arrested the man he wanted to see behind bars since he was a kid.”

  “He wasn’t asking about Datello, Helen.”

  My eyes lifted. “No?” Rigid rationality clamped down on the tiny spark of hope in my heart.

  “He asked about you. Of course, Tony was more than happy to oblige and –”

  “Shit,” I hissed softly. “So now Ned doesn’t want me to realize why I need to stop hoping that Johnny will remember anything that happened in the past six months, right? Briscoe kept his word. He’s doing everything he can to make sure that Johnny wants nothing to do with me.”

  “Not at all. He pulled up the files on the cases you worked since you came to Darkwater Bay. Told Johnny that if he wanted to know the truth, he ought to figure it out on his own. Ned on the other hand...”

  I buried my face in my hands and groaned. “What did he do?”

  “Told him that if he remembered enough to be curious about you that he needed to get off his ass and talk to you.”

  “He didn’t. What did Johnny say?”

  Dev shrugged again. “He just got really quiet for awhile. Then he started grilling Ned about who you left di
vision with.”

  I felt my forehead wrinkle. “I left with you.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You mean he thinks something is going on between us?”

  Dev chuckled. “You say that with almost enough disgust to hurt my feelings, Helen. Am I really such a troll?”

  My cheeks burned, lit up like Rudolph’s nose, I’m pretty sure. “I didn’t mean it that way. Of course you’re not a troll, it’s just that –”

  “Relax,” he let me off the hook without much torture. “I get it. You’re blinded by whatever that guy’s got that the rest of us mere mortals only dream to acquire. Point is, I bet he’ll make up his mind in a hurry that he doesn’t want to miss his shot to figure out what he felt before somebody else comes along.”

  “And I bet you’re nuts.”

  “Is that a professional opinion, Dr. Eriksson?”

  I smirked. “Maybe it is.”

  “Tell you what,” Dev suggested, “let’s give him a week to wake up and smell the roses before we resort to drastic measures.”

  “Devlin, I don’t want to play games with him.”

  “You wound me again,” one hand slapped over Devlin’s heart. “Who says I’m not making a serious bid for your attention here?”

  “I do,” a tiny grin threatened at the corners of my mouth.

  “If he is still wallowing in outrage over what he lost instead of doing something about it by this time next week, you’ll go out with me. One date. What do you say?”

  “Devlin –”

  “I dare you to do it.”

  “What kind of date? Are we talking the trite and boring dinner and a movie proposition? I always hated that tired bullshit.”

  Devlin laughed hard. “Do I really strike you as so unimaginative? Man, I must be a masochist after all. I feel like I’m going down in flames here.”

  “What did you have in mind then? Sky diving through the ice crystals over Bay County?”

  “Music,” he grinned. “It just so happens that I have tickets to a concert next week, and nobody to go with me. Even if you don’t want to think of it as a real date, you’d be doing your newest fan a favor by taking pity on me and coming with me to this thing.”

  “A concert,” I echoed. “Like what kind of music?”

  “If you’ll recall, I spent a fair amount of time living under this roof over the past week. I know how eclectic your CD collection is. I can only imagine that your digital archive dwarfs the genre whoring I saw on the physical discs.”

  “You’re avoiding my question.”

  “I got these tickets a long time before I moved to Darkwater Bay, Helen. I planned to make the trip regardless of where I was working at the time.”

  “Devlin.”

  His nervousness was unexpected, and oddly endearing. He stared at the hands that hung loosely over his knees. “Is your music collection used, or is it just for show?”

  “Don’t make me get the paper out so I can see what concert has you too embarrassed to tell me –”

  “It’s Pan Demon, all right? Yes, the in-your-face, fuck-you-society, speed metal band of all time.”

  It took great effort to school my grin. “I see. And from my – as you put it – rather eclectic music collection, you think I might be the single person you know amenable to attending this concert with you.”

  “Don’t play dumb, Helen. You’ve got their first two records upstairs in the rec room, on vinyl I might add. C’mon. Just go with me to this thing. I’ve been looking forward to it all year.”

  “This really surprises me, Devlin. You never struck me as the type to go for a band that sings about murder and mayhem, not to mention the anti-authority sentiments. Does Chris Darnell know about this?”

  “Stop it,” he chuckled. “I knew a lot of guys in the Marines that liked them. And for the record, it’s not the words to the songs that do anything for me.”

  “Ah, all that primal aggression.”

  “They’re a good band.”

  I nodded. “Surprising they’re still around, let alone alive. Or is one of those rebooted situations with an obscure drummer from back in the dark ages that revived the name after all the real talent died off?”

  “They’re all still alive, without the first drummer,” Devlin said. “In fact, that’s the one spot that changed multiple times over the years. Ironic, huh?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know, Devlin. I think I’m too old for that sort of thing now. To be honest, I was never really a fan of their music. I bought those records because Marie hated them, thought it was the devil’s music. How could I go wrong with a band with demon in the name? Drove her nuts, but Dad put his foot down and said I could listen to whatever I wanted to.”

  “Oh.”

  “I appreciate the gesture,” I said.

  “I haven’t given up. What do I have to do, dare you to step outside this box of what you see is appropriate and inappropriate for a woman of your advanced age?”

  It tugged another grin over my lips. “You said that to provoke me, didn’t you? Dare me? My advanced age? All right, buddy. You’re on. But only if I don’t hear from Johnny before the show. When is it?”

  “New Year’s Eve.”

  “Great,” I groaned. “I’ll be surrounded by drug addicts and alcoholics as we ring in the New Year.”

  He chuckled. “Somehow, I get the feeling that you could teach them a thing or two about holding their liquor, Helen.”

  Attaching conditions to the dare was my only hope. Sadly, the holiday crept forward without a peep from Johnny Orion. Devlin’s eager attitude distracted me somewhat, but it could never obliterate the ache of regret festering in my heart.

  Only one thing could distract me that well. Unfortunately, we had no idea that a heavy metal concert truly would be that vehicle, not until we arrived and the badges became necessary.

  Chapter 2

  Booze flowed through the Darkwater Bay Amphitheater as though it had been transformed into the proverbial land of milk and honey. Jaegermeister and Crown, maybe. Bud and Bud Light. Something along those lines.

  Trepidation isn’t normally part of my daily life. Yet in a throng of men with long hair, dressed mostly in black, demons inked onto biceps, chains hanging from belts and more steel-toed boots than I cared to count, I felt suddenly dwarfed by sizes and another river flowing – testosterone.

  I clutched Devlin’s arm. “You never said I would be the only woman here.”

  The grin was unabashed. “You’re not the only one, just the hottest one.”

  Jujitsu tickled the periphery of temptation.

  “Don’t give me that look. I told you you’d never catch me off guard again, Helen. You want something to drink, or would you rather go ahead and hit the floor now? I’ve got VIP access for this baby. We’re gonna be close enough to get hit by sweat.”

  “Delightful. I don’t suppose any of these vendors are selling a nice Napa merlot.”

  He threw his head back and laughed maniacally. “You weren’t kidding about not being a fan, were you?”

  “Devlin, I bought those albums when I was fourteen years old. Seriously, I have no clue what’s about to happen here. I’ve never been a concert goer in my life.”

  “This is your first?”

  I sincerely hoped it wasn’t panic I saw in his eyes. “Devlin, you’re making me very nervous. Why does it matter if this is my first concert?”

  Another concertgoer overheard me and held is fist up for Dev to bump. “Dude! Awesome!” he grinned.

  “Why is this awesome? What’s going to happen to me?”

  Devlin chuckled softly. “Oh man. This is gonna be hard to explain.”

  “Aren’t we a little old for this sort of thing?” Before the words fell from my lips, two men, more salt than pepper with hair hanging almost to their waists stumbled past us with two large cups filled with beer. “Guess not, huh?”

  “Relax. The band is a decade older than you, a little older than me. We’re not going to
be seeing a bunch of kids. In fact, I think you have to be accompanied by an adult if you’re under twenty-one for this one, Helen.”

  “God,” I groaned.

  “So ... a couple of shots followed by a couple of beers?”

  “I don’t suppose they’ve got anything imported,” ever ready to grumble, I allowed Devlin to steer me toward a kiosk with Guinness prominently displayed. Thank God. Domestic beer tastes like piss, or so I always imagined.

  He ordered two shots of Crown and two Guinness, peeled off two twenties from a wad of cash stuffed into one pocket. I couldn’t help but grin when the aged vendor requested to see our identification. Two leather billfolds flipped immediately, revealing our ages, along with the smaller badges sported by law enforcement in Darkwater Bay. The vendor didn’t bat an eye, just checked the dates, took Dev’s cash and returned the change. Devlin stuffed a generous tip into a plastic cup on the counter and pushed the cup of whiskey into my hand.

  “Cheers, virgin,” his eyes twinkled with mischief.

  “Why do I get the feeling I’m about to seriously regret taking you up on this dare?”

  “Aw, c’mon, Helen. This beats being at home for the stroke of midnight, wishing a certain someone had come to his senses in time to kiss you, doesn’t it?”

  I swallowed the pungent liquid and struggled not to gag on it. Like Dad always said, hard liquor makes for hard women. I still needed to toughen up. More than a little if every hint of Johnny’s existence brought on a bout of heart-shredding pain. At least I could blame my watering eyes on the whiskey.

  I slammed the plastic cup onto the counter. “Then by all means, set me up with another,” I said.

  Devlin shook his head. “No way, Eriksson. I’d prefer you conscious for what you’re about to experience. Grab your beer and let’s head down to the floor.”

  Sweat, whiskey and beer seasoned the air. Devlin clasped my hand in his and half dragged me through a wall of bodies closer and closer to front center of the floor at the base of the stage. Periodically, security stopped our advance to examine the all access passes we wore suspended by lanyards around our necks.

  My earlier perception of being the only woman at the show slowly eroded, the closer we got to our destination. A wide array of bustiers grew thicker in the crowd. Lots of skin and fleshy mounds ranged from rolling hills to massive mountains. Tight denim encased legs without an ounce of inhibition over displaying any and all assets.