Murders of the Zodiac Boxed Set

by Paris Morgan

  The click on the other end was quite welcome, and we’d only been on the phone for less than a minute. It didn’t matter how much I tried to reach out; she always made me feel about two inches tall. Of course I wasn’t going to let him go mountain climbing or anything dangerous. Geeze, I’d been watching them for years, and this was his first accident. It wasn’t even under my watch.

  Sticking out my tongue at her made me feel much better, but looked silly when my coworker popped his head inside the door.

  “We’ve got another one for you.”

  “Another suicide?”

  “Yep. Talking to the ex-wife?”

  “Ugh! She makes me crazy with her warnings about how to care for the kids.”

  “Don’t they all? Anyway, the chief wants to talk to you when you get back from this one,” he informed me on his way out.

  Groaning, I got up and grabbed my coat to head out again. I really hoped that Ryan would get a chance to return my call, because now that we had at least six ‘suicides’, this couldn’t be labeled as accidents anymore.

  ***

  Ryan

  My phone rang, but I was standing at the scene of a multi-vehicle accident that involved several casualties, so I couldn’t take the call. Big mistake. It was hours later before I was able to listen to the voicemail that my college roommate, Jesse, had left for me.

  I felt really bad that we had been playing phone tag for the past few days, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it.

  “Hey, Ryan. I know I’ve called a few times about this set of suicides I’m working, but I’ve gotta honest, I’m having a hard time. I really could use your opinion about what’s going on. I’m going to send you the basics because I keep having these weird dreams, and I want someone else to be up-to-date on things just in case. Anyway, I could just be paranoid. Call me when you can.”

  His message sounded almost desperate, and that just wasn’t like my friend at all. I dialed his number, but it went straight to voicemail. “Jesse, I got your message and I’m a little worried. Call me back and I’ll pick up no matter what. Take care of yourself, buddy.” I’d look at his email later, dismissing the warnings going off in my brain.

  Chapter 3

  Leslie

  It had been a quiet, normal week in the homicide division in Dallas, Texas. The serial case that had the entire metroplex hopping for over a month had finally been closed, and it felt like the city itself was taking a break from death having fulfilled its quota for a while.

  I’d been relieved that the “birthday killer” had died. Even though that seemed harsh, it was a reality that many of us felt after a vicious killer had been identified.

  Being a cop was difficult, but being a homicide cop where death was the norm, made things twice as hard to shake off when you went home. I’d only recently met someone, and it was a nice feeling to have someone that wanted you to come home safely. We were still in the dating stage, but if things continued to go well, we might have a future.

  “Boxe, are you daydreaming again?” A thud on my desk brought the question to my attention.

  “What?” I snapped at Nick, who’d just dropped a box of files onto my desk.

  “Boss wants you to take these downstairs to the archives so they can scan and seal them.” He grinned, expecting me to drop everything for him.

  “Don’t you mean he gave you the assignment and you’re passing it along?”

  The grin faded from his lips. “I told you she wouldn’t go for it.” He looked at the other guys waiting across the room.

  “I didn’t say that I wouldn’t do it, but that you were trying to pawn your work off on me.” I took my feet off the chair where they’d been resting from canvasing earlier that morning.

  He looked shocked. “You’ll do it?”

  “Yep. I need something to keep my mind on for a while.” I stood and placed my phone in my back pocket before taking the box.

  “You might want to close your mouth or the flies are going to make a nest out of it,” I teased, walking past him toward the elevator.

  After such a big case last week, it was hard to adjust to working on one or two cases at a time. What made it so much worse was when the person committing attempted murder kept the weapon on them. Some of these suspects made the job easy, and weren’t really keeping my mind engaged.

  A little time downstairs would be welcome to help me focus. Jerome had planned for us to meet for dinner if no other cases came up.

  Once the elevator opened, I walked into the basement where a few dedicated workers scanned and tagged everything before sending it over to…actually, I had no idea where they sent it.

  “Hey, Trish. I’ve got the box from Nick’s case last week.”

  “Oh, he’s got you doing his dirty work, huh?” Trish smiled, not a line or wrinkle marring her smooth skin.

  “How do you keep up with that kind of complexion? I’m so jealous.” I was being nosy, and hoping to delay going back up for just a few minutes.

  “Well, it’s mostly genes, but my granny always made sure that I washed my face and put some kind of face cream on it at night. She made it a fun ritual, and so far, it’s working.” Trish shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

  I shook my head in denial. “I can barely shower and get into bed some nights, much less wash my face and remember to put some goop on.”

  “It’s about habits. Just like you wouldn’t forget to take out your contacts or brush your teeth. Once you get used to it, it’s part of the routine.” Trish talked as she checked off the items in the box.

  “Probably another stupid question, but where do they store all the old case files?”

  “Undisclosed warehouses so that no one can find them and break in to destroy evidence. Thankfully, all of our reports are online as backups. You know, in case of fire or flood, we still have a semblance of the original case.” She studied me for a minute. “That last case is still bothering you, huh?”

  “Yeah, I just keep replaying it. It’s making it hard to sleep, and I keep having these dreams.”

  She proceeded to place the official tape around the box and put it in the locked cage behind her before responding to my comment.

  “Every detective has a case or two that gets under their skin, and it comes back again and again. Some can put it in the back of their minds and keep working, while others become obsessed with it and aren’t able to let it go. You have to decide which kind of detective you’re going to become, and give yourself a little time to relax. You’ve just hit the common problem that most good cops have. They don’t know what to do with downtime.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, and thanks for the advice.” I turned to go back upstairs.

  “Don’t let those boys upstairs turn you into their errand girl,” she admonished as I pushed the button for the elevator.

  I waved in response as the doors opened. The paper should have been delivered to my desk by now, and I could take a look at today’s horoscope.

  While I didn’t fully believe in all the astrology stuff, it was interesting to see what my sign’s predictions were for the day. Okay, I’ll admit, I was really looking for messages from a dead person that was on another murdering spree.

  After we’d finished the case, I’d ordered a subscription to be delivered to my desk every day. I felt it was worth it to keep up-to-date on things, and it helped to see a normal paper instead of a coded death threat.

  “Still looking for ghosts again?” Joe Roland, my current partner, asked from his seat at the desk across from mine.

  “Yep, I sure am. It’s also a good way to discuss what Jerome had to do for research in this edition. I learn new stuff all the time.” I hid my face behind the pages because I was sure my blush was going to incriminate me. Everyone must be talking about my habits, and this was going to take years to live down.

  “What’s the latest thing he’s come up with?” Joe leaned over the desk with his sandwich.

  “Do they pay you to eat this ofte
n?” I poked at him, lowering my paper slightly.

  “Why yes, in fact, they do, for your information.” He glared at me as he took another bite.

  “Jerome was doing some research on depression and the effects that weather can have on those who are inside more than someone who is outside or active on a regular basis.”

  “So that’s because of the vitamin D, or C, from the sun. It adds happy levels to the system, and if you’re not in the sun, then you become depressed. Was that what you were talking about?”

  “Sort of. It’s called S.A.D.”

  “I know it’s sad, but that’s the point. If you know you’re getting depressed, then you can work to make it better,” he muttered between bites.

  “No, that’s the technical term. Seasonal Affective Disorder, or S.A.D., but it can happen to those who are bipolar during the summer or spring months as well.”

  “Hmm. You learn something new every day. Did you get those interview notes put into the computer from this morning?”

  “Yeah, and I can’t believe that he admitted that the murder weapon was his, even when we showed him the blood on it from his ex-wife.”

  “You can’t fix stupid, but I’m sure he’s about to become educated on the prison system,” he agreed, looking at his watch. “I’m about to head home and see what my wife has cooked up for the evening.”

  “The doctor put you on a diet, didn’t he?” I accused as he crumpled up the package from his BBQ sandwich.

  “What does he know about needing protein to keep going at all hours? I eat here, and then have a salad as dessert with my wife so that everyone is happy.” He sighed at the word ‘salad’. “It’s rabbit food. Why should we eat it?”

  Laughing at his situation was going to be a lot of fun. “Joe, it’s not about whether you’re happy, it’s about your wife being happy. If she thinks you need to eat salad, and she’s stuck around for all these years, then I’d do it, man.” I winked at him. “I won’t tell her you’re cheating on the diet. At least not until it benefits me.”

  “That sounds like blackmail.” Nick coughed from the other side of the room.

  “Nope. It’s just good, old-fashioned leverage.” I placed the few files I’d been looking through in my desk drawer. “Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I’ve got a date with some tacos. Night.”

  I walked out of the room without looking back.

  ***

  I’d needed a couple of days to recuperate after our big case closed, and this was the first date Jerome and I would have without something hanging over us.

  Since I didn’t have many opportunities to cook, I’d made some dishes that only needed to be heated in case something came up before I arrived at his house.

  We’d only been dating a few weeks, and while we’d moved into other areas fairly rapidly, I still wasn’t ready for him to come to my home yet. So I’d made a good excuse for cooking at his house.

  I texted that I was on the way and to preheat the oven, then placed the bag of food next to my overnight bag. If I did stay over, I wanted to have clean clothes for work in the morning.

  A few minutes later, I opened the door and carried my stuff inside. “Honey, I’m home,” I hollered in a teasing voice.

  “Go on to the kitchen and I’ll be right there. I’m almost finished with this section,” he directed from his office.

  The kitchen was clean, although it was fairly small compared to most houses. Things would be very cozy if there were two people trying to cook a meal.

  It didn’t take long to put both of the dishes in the oven and set the timers. Since he wasn’t done quite yet, I wandered over to the couch to put my feet up for a moment.

  “Ah, you’re making yourself at home. Good.” He pushed a pair of glasses farther up onto his nose. “How long do we have before it’s ready?”

  “Oh, about forty-five minutes to an hour. Why?”

  “I thought you might want another tour of the bedroom.” He smiled suggestively.

  “Um, I might be persuaded, but only if you’ll lead the way.”

  He pulled me up from the couch and into his arms, which felt amazing. It felt as if it had been much longer than just a few days since we’d been together. Dinner could wait just a little while.

  ***

  Most of my weekend was spent in Jerome’s bedroom, with breaks for food and getting better acquainted. By Sunday though, I was starting to get restless and snuck out of bed to go for a run. It always helped to clear my head and keep me in shape in case I had to chase a criminal down the block.

  When I returned, Jerome was still in bed, but I was wide awake. I wasn’t trying to be nosy, but I noticed a stack of papers sitting beside the couch with the word ‘Zodiac’ across the front. Being a cop, I wasn’t about to contain my curiosity.

  Jerome had printed out information on the different signs and some of their characteristics. Each person was said to be drawn to their soul mates, but many of the signs rushed into relationships for other reasons.

  I was so engrossed with reading about love and who was suited for each other, I didn’t notice him standing there watching me.

  “Find anything interesting?”

  His words made me jump, and the papers fluttered to the ground in front of me.

  “Well, I guess it could be if I knew your birthdate. I could see if we’re supposed to be together.” I bent over and started collecting his papers into a stack.

  “Hey, I have no secrets, and if I didn’t want you to see something, I certainly wouldn’t put it out in the open for you to find. My birthday is in May twenty-fifth, by the way.”

  “They say that there’s always one case that sticks with you, and I’m afraid that my first one is going to be this one.” I frowned.

  “I have an idea to take it off your mind. Let’s go out for breakfast this morning.”

  “I’ll take you up on the offer, but afterward, I have to head home and get a few things done before the weekend is over.”

  “No problem. I’m not used to spending so much time with someone. This is going to take a little while to get used to on a regular basis, but I’m liking it. Anyway, can we shower together before we head out?” He flexed his muscles, hoping to entice me, which didn’t take much if this weekend was any indication.

  “Sure, but can we keep it to under thirty minutes? Your hot water starts to run out about then.” I grinned at him mischievously, closing the bathroom door behind us.

  Chapter 4

  Jesse

  Each day a body dropped, and there was still no rhyme or reason for it. We were considering them unsolved deaths instead of calling them murders or suicides for the moment. There were way too many ‘suicides’ to consider them to be normal.

  I’d been studying every night regarding suicides, and why people would choose to end their lives that way, if that’s what was happening. It made sense in a way to me, because when my wife had left me, my world had become a really deep, dark hole of nothing.

  The despair at having my family gone made me feel worthless, and like complete failure. It was my job to be there for my children, and for my wife. When she walked out, my brain had fed on an endless spiral that made me feel I would be better off if I ended it all.

  I hadn’t had someone bullying me, or telling me that I wasn’t good enough. It had all been my own emotions. I couldn’t even imagine making it for any length of time if I hadn’t been a very confident person before everything went to crap.

  Having steeped myself for a few more deaths over the weekend, I was surprised when nothing happened Friday, and I was able to arrive on time to the elementary school to pick up the kids for the weekend.

  Pulling into the line of cars waiting for the final bell, I was almost thankful that my ex had gotten full custody so that I didn’t have to sit in this line every day. As I walked up to the sign-out area, I was getting a lot of dirty looks from women that I didn’t recognize, but something about me was apparently bothering them. Maybe they smelled ex-h
usband on me, because women only chased after guys who were married. After a divorce, there seemed to be a warning that women stayed away from those of us that had been marked.

  My kids came running to see me when the teachers called out their names. At least I was still on the pick-up list.

  After they were buckled up, I maneuvered very carefully out of the crowded lanes and headed toward home.

  “Mom said we can’t do anything that would get Charlie hurt, but going bowling doesn’t count, right? Plus, he needs to strengthen his other arm since it’s his primary arm.” Patty bounced in her seat excitedly.

  “You know what? I think you’re right. Charlie, are you up for a bowling session?” I changed direction to head toward the local bowling alley. His little head nodded in my rearview mirror.

  “Perfect. I’ll bet you a pizza dinner that Charlie’s scores better than either of ours, Patti Cakes.”

  “Aw, Dad. That’s a baby nickname. I’m a tween,” she huffed.

  Okay, I had no idea what that meant, but I was guessing that she’d outgrown her nickname.

  “I’ll try to remember that,” I promised.

  ***

  Two hours later, we were sitting in a booth eating pizza.

  “What kind of case are you working on, Dad?”

  Remaining silent, I tried to find a way to explain my case without giving them too much information.

  “You know that sometimes people die?”

  Both heads nodded seriously.

  “When a bad person kills someone, we call it murder because they were supposed to continue to live. There are some people who, for whatever reason, decide to take their own lives.” I was struggling with how much to tell them. I knew that Patti could handle it, but Charlie was so young.

  “Oh, you mean because they’ve been bullied, so they commit suicide?” Patti supplied when I hesitated.

  “Yes. Sometimes things happen to make you feel that no one loves you, or that what you’re going through is the worst thing ever. But when suicide happens, it hurts your family and friends. They miss you, and don’t understand why you’re gone. It’s always important to tell the people around you that you love them and listen to them.”