Murder! Too Close To Home

by J. T. Lewis

  We finished our drinks and purchased some coffee as we continued to sit at the table and enjoy each other’s company. I really thought we might hash through the night’s events again during lunch, but we both seemed content to leave that at the office. We talked instead of current events, the coming baseball season, almost everything else…except murder.

  Refilling our cups, we decided to take the long way back, walking several blocks to the park and walking the length of that before heading back. It felt great.

  Entering the office just in time for our meeting, we headed straight to Allen’s office for our ‘debriefing’. Allen was there and immediately stood, moving around his desk to grasp Frank’s and then my hand in congratulations. The stress that had been displayed like a billboard on Allen’s face the last few weeks had disappeared, replaced nonetheless by a few more facial lines and gray hairs.

  “Sit, sit!” Allen exclaimed as he held out a hand to indicate the padded leather chairs off to the side of the office. These chairs were normally reserved for visiting dignitaries, my pants having never touched them before.

  “Great job last night!” he exclaimed with enthusiasm. “Finding the murderer’s hideout was genius! The wrecks were unfortunate, but at least you two escaped unscathed.”

  “I checked on Wesley’s status a few minutes ago, the doctor was cautious in his assessment, but believes there is still hope that our suspect will survive. Either way, we also found the final nail in his coffin,” he finished with a smile, handing an evidence bag over to me to see.

  The bag contained a man’s ring, which I immediately recognized as the ring belonging to Harold Longstreet. “They found it in his pocket when they cut off his clothes, has Harold’s name engraved on the inside,” Allen beamed. “The crime scene guys didn’t find too much of note in the car or the abandoned house, but we’ve got an airtight case with what we have now. This guy’s in line for a death sentence, one way or the other.”

  Handing the ring to Frank, I nodded at Allen’s assessment. Frank took a few moments to look over the ring before handing it back to Allen. A few more moments of silence followed, and I had more than an inkling of what was coming next.

  “I understand you two were looking into the Franklin County connection on your own, after hours. May I ask what prompted you to do it off the books, so to speak?”

  I had decided on my way to work this morning to go ahead and admit to the dreams as the basis of our investigation when asked, figuring that with my new found acceptance of the dreams that more people needed to be aware of the phenomenon, and to not be ashamed of using them.

  “I…” I started in explanation, only to be interrupted quickly by Frank.

  “We didn’t have enough to go on for a full-fledged investigation, mostly just hunches. The one bit of evidence that we had was the soil sample from the first murder, Gabriel discovered that a certain area in Franklin County was the only place anywhere close to us that had that type of soil. We limited our search grid to that area, reasoning he may be using an abandoned building to hide out in since he had no family or friends that we could find in his background. We got lucky is all.”

  The explanation seemed to satisfy Allen, who was interrupted by a knock on his door. Excusing himself, he went to answer the knock. I started to say something to Frank about excluding my dreams from the description, but he stopped me with a crossing guard’s hand indicating ‘Stop’.

  “That’s good enough for now,” was all he said in a low whisper, finality expressing itself in his voice.

  The conversation was quickly forgotten however as we caught sight of the look on Allen’s face as he returned to our area, plopping heavily into a chair, the weight of the world appearing to weigh on his shoulders once more.

  We silently waited for Allen to fill us in as he sat there staring at a note in his hand.

  Finally he looked up at us with a stress ridden face, a time warp apparently having taken us back in time. Four words escaped his mouth, four words that again would change our lives forever; the last four words I would have expected to hear this day.

  “There’s been another murder.”

  Chapter 70

  March 26, 1997

  3:00 AM, and Jasmine was not happy, not happy at all. The carefully scripted murder she had been planning for weeks had been foiled…screwed up by that idiot. Still not sure how they had found him, she was nonetheless sure that Wesley had given himself away with some inattention to a detail along the way.

  She realized that her hands were clamped to the steering wheel of her dark truck like the talons of a hawk on its prey. Taking her hands off of the wheel, she then shook them up and down rapidly in front of her to try to release the tension.

  “Calm down,” she told herself, “you knew this could happen.”

  Taking some slow deep breaths, she felt the calm start to return to her body.

  “Time for Plan B is all,” she mumbled to herself with determination. Getting out of the truck, she went to the back and dropped the tailgate, pulling a shotgun out from under a tarp and loading a shell into the breech.

  The gun was another piece of stolen evidence from the incompetent sheriff’s department, taken months ago with the rest of the lot. She smiled at the additional repercussions the sheriff would have to face after tonight.

  Moving up the timetable for her ‘Plan B’ had taken but a few moments thought once she had gotten over the rage of her minion’s capture. After all, with the capture of Wesley, all of the extra patrols would surely be cancelled now, maybe even the normal ones considering the excitement of the night. This might actually be the most perfect night to do what she now had to do.

  She saw headlights approaching in the distance; her heart rate inching up with every yard closer the vehicle got. Setting down the gun momentarily, she pulled up the hood of her skintight black costume, finding the black eye mask on the tailgate where she had laid it and installing this final touch onto her face.

  Earlier in the evening she had admired herself in the mirror after donning the whole of her outfit, one of the many such in her closet. The sexy comic-book-heroine looking back at her had brought a smile to her face and a stirring between her legs. The smoothly chiseled features of her jaw line and her long beautiful neck were accentuated by the black outfit with stunning effect.

  Shaking off the image, she quickly picked up the shotgun and closed the tailgate, jogging the fifty feet around the curve needed to assure that her victim would not see her truck, just in case.

  Attention to detail…that was her credo.

  Finding her spot in the road, she immediately took a superhero-like stance she had practiced in the mirror. Feet spread wide with the left foot slightly forward, she leaned her shoulders back slightly, allowing her hips to project forward a bit.

  Hanging the shotgun down in her right hand, it is easily hidden from the approaching car by her finely shaped leg. She held up her left hand in front of her, palm forward in a stop signal. She had no real worries about immediately stopping any man coming around the corner, or woman for that matter.

  The approaching auto was in sight now, traveling about thirty-five around the curve. She could see the car fishtail slightly when the driver had noticed her and crammed on his brakes. Standing there with the headlights fully on her, the woman smiled, and the true joy projecting from her face would be unmistakable to anyone, even through the mask and hood.

  ***

  Tony Finney was half asleep, barely able to keep his eyes open as he followed the old windy road that led to his house. Having just started his new job the day before, his body was nowhere near used to the 6:00 PM to 2:30 AM shift he had just finished.

  Yesterday, he had been unable to sleep when he had arrived home, giving up around 8:00 AM and watching TV instead.

  Having been out of work for eight months, he could hardly refuse the offer to work when this job had come open. Normally he would turn down anything involving late night work. Nights were for sleepi
ng. He would sleep tonight though, of that he was sure.

  At least he would if he could make it to his house before running off of the road.

  Opening his eyes slowly now from another micro-snooze; he was confronted by something standing in the road. Trying to push the pedal through the floor to avoid hitting the thing, he finally brought the car to a full stop.

  As he looked ahead through the windshield, he was convinced that he must be seeing things, the image now standing ten foot in front of his vehicle.

  Shaking his head to clear the image from his mind, she was nevertheless still standing there when his eyes reopened.

  “Wow!” was all he can think to say when he realized that the sexy woman was still there, a smile now forming on her beautiful face.

  “My Lord,” he whispered to himself as he stared at the stunning apparition. A woman had not been in his life for quit awhile, and the form of the woman now standing before him made his groggy mind reel with possibilities.

  He closed his eyes and rubbed them momentarily to try to burn the image of the beauty into his brain.

  He never got the chance to open them again.

  ***

  The woman easily swung the shotgun up from behind her leg, going a little past level before letting the stock fall comfortably into her left hand. Taking only a moment to let everything settle, she pulled the trigger, releasing into the air the noise and confusion of certain death. The loud retort of the gun was only exceeded by the orgasm that was now working its way up her lean body, her body shaking in joyous release.

  Finally shaking off the effects, she threw the gun to the ground and turned back toward her truck, walking on shaky legs as her body recovered from the orgasmic flush that now enveloped her.

  Climbing into the dark vehicle, she ignited the engine and routinely accelerated arround the now damaged car. The driver was slumped back against the seat, a massive hole now claiming the space that used to be his chest.

  An aftershock stirred things up inside her once again, followed by the afterglow typical of such things.

  “I could use a cigarette!” the non-smoker exclaimed with a laugh.

  As she continued her ride home, she was beside herself with joy over the results of her work.

  “I should have done this myself from the get go,” she determined, having regretted involving the little idiot from the beginning.

  “Let it go, lady,” she told herself then, “Now that you know, there’ll be no stopping you.”

  She was quiet then, a smile resting comfortably on her face. Ideas popped into her head rapidly, quicker than they ever had. She was ready for what came next, and anxious to get started on the next phase of her plan.

  Nervous energy overcame her caution, and she pushed the pedal a little further into the floor. She was on top of the world, and had plans to stay there.

  “He’ll regret it now,” she said, totally enjoying the moment.

  “Yes, he’ll regret it now.”

  Chapter 71

  March 26, 1997

  “Out on Lancaster Drive,” Allen started, dejected. “A fuel oil truck making a delivery just found the man. The plates on the car belong to one Tony Finney, who also owns the last house on that particular dead-end road. We assume it is him; deputies are on their way.”

  “Could he tell how it happened?” Frank asked.

  “Guy said shot through the windshield with a shotgun,” was all Allen would add, getting up and heading toward his desk. “You two get out there and check it out.”

  Picking up his phone to make a call, he noticed us still standing there and impatiently waved us out of the office before punching the buttons for the unknown recipient.

  “How is this possible?” I asked Frank as we exited the office.

  He answered by shrugging his shoulders before digging into his pocket for the car keys. Confusion came across his face, then resignation before he announced, “We need to take your car this time, mine’s in the shop.”

  Giving a quick laugh in spite of myself, I dug my keys out of my pocket and we started for the door. Passing Ellen working the phone, she suddenly stood and raised her voice, saying, “Are you sure?”

  “OK, thanks,” she said and hung up. Starting a note on her desk, my curiosity got the better of me and I asked her if there was something wrong.

  “Not exactly,” she said, finishing her note for Allen. Looking up at me, she said simply “The victim is alive.”

  “Deputy just got to the site, found the guy still had a pulse. He called the ambulance, they’re on the way.”

  With that she turned toward Allen’s door, knocking briefly before letting herself in.

  Frank and I looked at each other briefly before turning and heading quickly toward the door. Maybe the day had started looking up a little again.

  Chapter 72

  March 26, 1997

  A thought sprang into my head as we drove toward the scene of the shooting.

  “What kind of person are we dealing with, if it is this woman and she jumped into the action this quickly?”

  “Damned determined,” Frank immediately interjected. Thinking on it more, he added another thought.

  “She must be very dedicated to her cause, whatever that is. If it is indeed her, she would have had to gear up very quickly. It also means she would have had a backup plan ready in the wings, very organized.”

  “Ask me, I think it is our woman,” he continued, “and she has some deep-seated issues of some sort. She had the guts to jump in and take care of business when her original plan went awry, but there again, there is no blatant indication that she has actively killed before. It’s like she just dropped in from another planet.”

  “A closet sociopath, hiding within herself maybe, but now she’s developing psychopathic tendencies,” I said, realizing that Frank had got me thinking.

  “If she has been under the radar this long, something may have happened in her recent past to trigger her escalation, her sudden activation of this plan.”

  We both digested on this line of logic for the rest of the ride, which wasn’t long. Pulling up at the scene, we sat in the car while the EMT’s worked on the victim. They got him to the point they needed to and then loaded him up in the squad, hitting lights and sirens as they took off rapidly down the road.

  Exiting the car, we moved toward the victim’s auto. There were pieces of glass and coagulated blood splattered everywhere on the vehicle. We saw a deputy squatting in the road in front of the car so we headed that way. He was looking over a shotgun that was lying on the road, apparently dropped there after the shooting.

  It’s a Twelve Gauge pump action, well worn and scratched.

  “Looks like it’s been around awhile,” I stated, mouthing the words of the obvious but actually lost in thought. I had noticed a string around the stock; a brass grommet attached to it with minute pieces of paper showing around its circumference.

  “Evidence tag,” I said as I pointed to the string, “another tie to the sheriff’s department?”

  “Humph,” he uttered, the one word phrase expressing it all.

  “It’s one of the items that came up on our missing inventory,” the deputy interjected, “I figured it would show up like this.”

  “Any tracks or other evidence so far, Dean?” Frank asked the deputy, a sergeant unknown to me.

  “Looks like the perp pulled off the road about fifty feet around the curve, no tracks though as far as I can tell. I’ve taped it off for now, we’ve got the crime scene guys on the way, and one of the dogs can waste some time sniffing around. Who knows, maybe the perp took a piss or something for the dog to find.”

  His disgust at another situation with no evidence showed in his face as he turned and walked off.

  I didn’t blame him.

  We walked around the corner and looked around where the vehicle had supposedly been parked.

  “Middle of the night, she would have been able to see the approaching headlights for a mile,
guy in the car would have never seen her vehicle though.”

  I was talking out loud at this point, though nothing earth shattering was coming out of my mouth. I was just trying to kick start something in my brain that might help.

  We stayed around long enough for the techs to show up before leaving the scene, gleaning nothing of import for our troubles. The ride back was quiet, each of us lost in his own thoughts.

  Something was bothering me about the stolen evidence that kept showing up. How did it get out of the lockup in the first place?

  The state supposedly cleared everyone in the department. Is the person responsible now gone from the department?

  Could just anyone walk in and remove evidence?

  I’m thinking we needed to dig a little deeper into the evidence locker. In my mind, we have left some stones unturned in this area of the investigation.

  I shared my thoughts with Frank, and he agreed that should be our next focus in the investigation, with one possible addition.

  “We should double check the state police’s findings, something smells fishy to me.”

  Totally trusting Frank’s investigative nose, I agreed that it wouldn’t hurt to check on our state brothers. In my mind, we have to be missing something blatant; we just couldn’t see it for the trees this investigation had thrown in our way.

  I let my mind wander for the few minutes that remained of our drive, watching the new spring showing itself off as we passed. Daffodils and Tulips were finally bringing some color to our drab winter world.

  I hoped we would have time to enjoy the spring this year, but right now, we seemed to be lost in a world of gray…a very drab and ugly gray.

  Chapter 73

  March 26, 1997

  “The woman,” Betty stated when we walk in the door.

  Frank and I looked at each other before I answered.

  “That’s our thinking,” I replied, “What’s your take on her?”