“Oh yeah, I have it all. You’re right. It’s all I ever dreamed of. But I didn’t have me. An identity of my own. All I am is someone’s wife, someone’s mother. I need more than that.” Clare took a breath, and went on before Susan could say anything else.
Susan hated to hang up, her sister sounded so upset, but she needed to finish dinner. “Okay, Clare, calm down. I can’t talk right now, but I’ll get back to you,” she promised. “In the meantime, try to relax and enjoy your new job.”
Susan shook her head. Poor Clare. She had no idea her sister felt that way. Clare always seemed so content — so in-control and happy. Still, she couldn’t believe Clare had given into a whim. She would have bet her life Clare had more control than that.
Too bad Clare hadn’t found the job before she gave in. Clare was right about one thing; Steve would never forgive her if he found out.
Chapter Seven
Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. Jack fell down and broke his crown. And since Jill followed you everywhere, she had to tumble after.
Killing two proved a challenge. But he liked challenges. Always had. The more challenging, the better. He knew their routine and waited in the park. Every evening they walked together, hand-in-hand, like lovers. It sickened him to watch them, so lovey-dovey. He had watched them for weeks. Knew what time they went to work, to the grocery store. Every evening proved the same. They left the kids with a neighbor and walked — just the two of them. He followed them. They never changed their pattern — always walked the same path.
He rubbed his hands together. They itched to begin. Itched to feel the life and breath go out of his victims. Everything was ready. This time he’d get them.
He didn’t have long to wait. He knew he wouldn’t. Right on time, just like clockwork. He waited until they got closer, and sprang out from behind the trees.
Jill jumped back and screamed. He knocked Jack to the ground, hit him on the head with a rock, and knocked him out. Jill ran to her husband.
He grabbed her, pulled her away from Jack, put his hands around her slender neck, and squeezed. She tried to fight him, but she was no match for his strength. It didn’t take long. The dawning of her fate showed in her eyes just before she gasped her last breath. He let her fall to the ground.
“Not so high and mighty now, are you? You, with your short cheerleader skirt, flirting with all the boys, teasing them and then running off with Jack.”
He turned his attention back to Jack.
Jack would have put up more of a struggle if he hadn’t knocked him out. If he didn’t have Jill to contend with, he would have enjoyed the battle. He put his hands around Jack’s throat and tightened them. Jack came to for just a moment. Long enough to see his face. Not that it mattered — none of his victims were alive to identify him.
Jack’s head fell to the side, the life gone out of him. He gave an extra squeeze just to make sure before he released him. He dragged Jack’s body to the small mound, the best thing he could find for a hill. He positioned it the way he wanted, went back for Jill, and dragged her body next to Jack’s. He pushed her against Jack, watched their heads bump, and laughed.
He took a bucket out of his knapsack and smashed it on top of Jack’s head, and stuck the rhyme in Jill’s hand.
“There you go, Mr. Big Shot. Now who’s in charge? Thought you were smarter than everyone else, didn’t you. Look how smart you are now. Who in their right mind takes their wife for a walk this late at night? Just begging for trouble. Well, you found it.”
He slapped the bucket, pushed Jill closer to Jack with his foot, laughed, and ran off. He pulled it off. Now they’d know how smart he was. They’d see what they were dealing with.
* * *
Dave arrived about seven, earlier than Susan expected, but dinner was ready.
“Hmm, something smells good,” he said when she opened the door. “Hope it’s for me.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek as if it was the most normal thing in the world for him to do.
The unexpected kiss surprised her.
She wished she could figure him out. Not that she minded the kiss. The imprint of his lips left a warm spot and filled her insides with warmth and tenderness. This man evoked so much confusion and emotional upheaval; she wasn’t sure how to take him. The kiss was definitely more than just a friendly gesture.
“I thought you’d like something more than fast food for a change.”
“I’m surprised you even knew how to boil water,” he said as they sat down to eat.
She threw a roll at him in mock anger. “I know how to do a lot of things that might surprise you.” She liked their easy banter and teasing. Heck, she liked a lot of things about David Morgan. Something told her she could fall in love with this man very easily.
“Hmm, tell me more.”
“You’ll have to figure that out for yourself.” She couldn’t keep the suggestive tone out of her voice. Good grief, her hormones were definitely out of control. She’d never flirted like this before. She giggled. She couldn’t help it. Dave brought out something in her she’d never experienced before, and she liked it.
After dinner, he helped clear the table, and even washed the dishes while making quiet conversation. Susan couldn’t remember enjoying anyone’s company or an evening more. They relaxed together. They fit. She hated for it to end.
“Coffee?” she offered, when they finished the dishes. He nodded, and while she made the coffee, he put his arms around her. Again, he nuzzled her neck. She shivered in his arms, and he turned her to face him. He took her face in his hands and kissed her, a tender, passionate kiss.
She sucked in her breath, and looked into his eyes, questioning, wanting more, at the same time, trying to resist the feeling. She didn’t want to complicate her life. He pulled her to him and held her.
“I shouldn’t be doing this. You’re a witness in a murder investigation. I usually keep my professional and personal life separate.” His voice sounded as if he struggled with his feelings.
“Why not think of me as a colleague? I’m not really a witness. I didn’t see the crime committed. We both want the same thing, to catch this guy, to prevent any more murders.”
Running her fingers through his hair, fascinated with the soft, silky strands, Susan relished the nearness of him, inhaled sandalwood, leather, and cedar scent of his after-shave. She didn’t want to lose this feeling, hoped he wouldn’t pull away, longed for him to stay with her, hungered for the taste of his salty lips, and needed the security of his arms. Snuggled against him, her body seduced his, begged him to hold her.
He pulled away. But his eyes betrayed him. Speaking volumes, they glistened with desire. Susan pulled his head down to hers and kissed him — the clinging, passionate kiss she longed for. He ran his tongue along her lips, and she opened her mouth, letting his tongue explore.
He slid his hand down her back and under her blouse. The warmth of his touch set off something deep inside her. She wanted this man. He brought his hand to her breast and reached under her bra, found her nipple and squeezed gently. A gasp escaped her mouth. Heat gathered between her legs.
How far should she let him go?
Not that the question mattered, the phone rang, breaking the mood. She tensed, waiting for the voice. While the machine answered, she turned away and poured the coffee.
A telemarketer selling windows left a message. Susan sighed, handed Dave his coffee, and they took it into the living room.
“Sit here.” He patted the place next to him on her small couch. “I want you near me.”
She sat next to him, her heart thumping in her chest, beating with the very joy of being alive. A giggle erupted from her throat, and she felt enbarrassed for acting like a silly teenager.
He took her coffee from her, set it on the table, leaned toward her, and pulled her close. He released her hair clip, entwined and curled her hair around his fingers. He mumbled something she couldn’t hear.
She groaned at the pleas
ure of his hands on her, tasting again the saltiness of his lips, engulfed in his caress.
The phone broke the spell again, and she pulled away reluctantly to answer it, but relief swelled through her mind — she didn’t want a relationship.
She had been attracted to Dave since the first day she met him. Now she had to decide how to deal with it. Something inside told her she fought a losing battle. She was falling for him. She had no control over her emotions, especially when he was near. A one-night stand wasn’t in the cards. She wanted more. A lot more.
“No!” He pulled her back down on the couch. “Let the machine get it.” He held her in his arms and looked into her eyes.
His body stiffened with tension.
They both knew who it was.
The machine answered, her message played, and the raspy, harsh voice came on. “I changed my mind,” it said. “I didn’t do Willie.” It clicked off. The dial tone sounded.
Dave jumped up and pulled the tape from the machine.
She sat immobile, frozen with the fear of what the words meant. She looked at Dave for reassurance. “Do you think that means he didn’t commit a murder?”
Dave stared at the phone, then at her.
“I don’t know what it means,” he said. “But I have a feeling we’ll find out soon.
The words were barely out of his mouth when his cell phone rang, and her scanner squawked. “Two bodies found near Lagoon Lake”
Fear rushed through her as she realized the horror of the events. Now he had killed two at the same time.
“I’m going with you.” She followed Dave.
He looked as if he were going to stop her, must have figured it was useless, and held the door open for her. A few minutes later, they arrived at the crime scene.
Officers had already taped it off. Dave motioned her to stay back and left her to her own devices. She waited for him to walk away, before slipping under the crime scene tape. She followed a short distance behind, being careful not to get too close, so she wouldn’t disturb any evidence.
As they approached the scene, Susan covered her mouth and barely squelched a scream.
Dave hurried back to her. “Damn it, I told you to stay there. I sure as hell don’t need an hysterical woman on the scene.” He put his arm around her. “Shit, are you okay? I told you to stay back.” His tone softened.
Susan stopped and pulled away. “I know them,” she whispered. “They’re my friends.”
Dave pulled her back into his arms. “I’m sorry.” He led her away as she slumped against his chest.
Susan jerked back. What was she doing? Friends or not, she had to cover the story. It was her job. She pulled away from Dave, straightened up, and took a deep breath.
“I’m okay now.” She pushed him away. “Go on back to your job. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure? Because I really don’t have time to deal with you.”
“Yes, go on.”
“Good, then get the hell out of here! Go home.” Dave turned her around and pushed her away. “You don’t belong here, anyway.”
* * *
Dave started back to the crime scene and glanced back to see if she left. The look on her face tore at his heart. He may as well have slapped her. He never would have expected her to react that way.
He shook his head. Too bad, she took too many liberties. Damn headstrong woman. She had no business beyond the crime scene tape, and she knew it.
Then damn it, why did he feel like such a jerk? He almost went back to her, but resisted.
He hurried back to the scene. Worst one he’d seen in a long time. He waited for the coroner to finish up. “Any idea on time of death?”
“Can’t be sure, but not long ago. The bodies are still warm.” He ran his hand along the back of his neck. “Who the hell is doing this?”
Dave shrugged.
Hell, he wished he knew.
* * *
When Dave returned to the scene, Susan crept closer. Much as she hated to, she had to get a good look at the bodies, and more importantly, at the message the killer left. They had to get this guy. One way or another, he had to be stopped. Stupid bastard!
Jack and Jill Shipman, the latest victims, were her friends. How could this have happened? Jack was big, muscular. He’d do anything to protect Jill. Susan could barely bring herself to look at their bodies.
Jill held the rhyme in her hands. A rusty pail sat, half crooked, on Jack’s head. Their bodies, posed at the bottom of a small hill, actually more of a mound, leaned against each other, the terror of death on their faces.
Susan gulped back the nausea rising in her throat. She wanted to scream, wanted to run away. Mostly, she wanted to lash out at someone. At the killer.
Dried blood dripped down the side of Jack’s head where it looked like someone tried to bash in his skull. Jill lay next to him; her head leaned against Jack’s, her eyes glazed over in death. Susan clenched her fists.
This time she knew the victims personally, socialized with them — talked with Jill several times a month and played with their kids in the park. This park. This time, it was personal. This time, he went too far.
How did the killer know she knew Jack and Jill? Or did he? Was it coincidence? Something made her think not. He was sending her a message, but what?
She needed to go home or to the office to write this story. She looked around. Looked like she’d have to walk.
Greg, her neighbor waved at her from among the crowd of curious onlookers, but she ignored him when she noticed Ray, camera in hand, walking away from the crowd. She ran toward him, and asked for a ride to the office.
He didn’t seem surprised to see her. “Sure, come on,” he said. “I’m headed there, anyway.
“Any luck with the pictures?” Not that she really cared.
“Yeah, I did, actually. Who knows maybe this will be my big break. This story is causing a sensation across the state, and the national news media has picked it up. With the murder of two bodies, there’s bound to be a call for pictures over the wire. I’m going to submit them to Associated Press and see what happens,” Ray said.
Susan wondered if that was legal — the paper provided the equipment— but she wasn’t about to start a discussion about it. It was his problem. She had enough of her own. Seeing her friends’ bodies had rattled her, and she didn’t feel like talking. Fortunately, Ray rambled on, accepting her occasional ‘uh huh’ or ‘hmm’ in response.
At the office, she sat down at the computer. Sweat formed on her forehead, and her stomach rumbled at the horror and loss of these innocent lives. What kind of monster killed like this? What motivated him? She wasn’t sure she could report this story. But she had to.
She wiped a tear and began typing.
Jack and Jill Went Up The Hill
Jack and Jill Shipman, ages 32 and 31 respectively, are the latest victims of the Nursery Rhyme Killer. Their bodies were found last night propped on a small mound near Lagoon Lake. Jill held the rhyme, and a rusty pail adorned Jack’s head as if it were a crown. The married couple had been high school sweethearts, and leave behind three children, ages 8, 6, and 5. Police still have no leads in these bizarre murders.
Detective David Morgan of homicide was heard saying, “It’s the first time he killed two at the same time. He’s getting bolder and changing his approach. He’s smart, but he’s bound to slip up. Then we’ll catch him.”
Susan sat back. She had caught that quote just before she left. He’d probably be mad as hell that she used it, but anything she overheard was fair game, as far as she was concerned. She continued with the story.
Jack and Jill, as with previous victims, lived in the Thayer’s Crossing neighborhood. Police are perplexed at how the killer managed to kill two in a park under their surveillance.
She sent the story, sat back, and tried to relax. These murders, but especially the murderer, ticked her off. Was he purposely picking on people she knew? These were her friends. Jill was supposed to call her to
do lunch. Did the killer have a vendetta against her?
She slammed her hand against the desk. They had to get this bastard. She swiped at her tears. Never had she hated anyone before, but she hated this guy. Hated what he was doing to innocent people. The fact she received the phone calls from him disturbed her. It didn’t make sense. None of it made any sense.
And darn it, Ernie insisted on putting Hill’s name on the byline. It wasn’t fair, it was her story, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it. She could have refused to write the story, but one of the others would have written it, anyway. She’d figure a way to get the credit for it somehow.
Although right now, she wasn’t sure she really cared. These were two people she cared about. That made her a victim, too.
Was that the idea? To torture her? What kind of sick game was this guy playing? Why single her out? Was it all part of the plan? Was she an intended victim? Would she be next?
The thought terrified her. She had to go home.
Exhausted and drained from the emotions of the day, Susan accepted Ray’s offer of a ride home. She leaned back against the seat. “You don’t mind if we don’t talk, do you?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I just don’t feel like talking.” Okay, yeah, right. If she counted the pounding in her head as okay, then she was fine. To make matters worse, her stomach grumbled. God, she hoped she didn’t throw up. At least, not until she got home.
“Here we are.” Ray pulled up in front of her apartment. “Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look so good. Do you want me to walk you in?”
Susan got out of the car. “No. I’ll be fine, thanks.”
“So do you want to go out Saturday night? Take in a movie, maybe get some pizza?”
“I’m sorry, I’m involved with someone.” She smiled to take the edge off her polite refusal. He appeared disappointed, but took it like a good sport.
“Day late and a dollar short. My loss.” He laughed at his own joke.
Susan thought it a strange remark, but was too exhausted to dwell on it. She climbed the two flights of stairs to her apartment, ignoring the elevator. She needed the exercise to release the built-up anxiety.
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