The Keystroke Killer

by Melissa Caudle

  Matthew took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “This information changes things. Are you saying, our Congressman, Tom Thompson, your husband is the Sorority serial killer?”

  “Not at all. I’ve been able to confirm he has had brief associations with many of the victims raising my level of concern.”

  Matthew lifted his brows. “I’d say more than raise it. I believe it places him on the map as a suspect.”

  “That’s not why I am here.” Janice’s tone irritated Matthew.

  Debra looked up from the documents. “Then why?” She handed them to Peterson.

  “He has a weakness for young pretty brunettes with green eyes. Now, that she’s dead, he has another hooker. It didn’t take him long to replace Roxy. I need you to find out who it is and stop her.”

  Matthew flaunted a grin of honest amusement. “Have you tried the French Quarter Red Zone? That's where Peterson goes for fun.”

  Peterson’s spine stiffened. “Now wait a minute. That’s uncalled for.”

  Debra nodded in agreement. “Matthew has a point. If your husband is fond of hookers, that’s where he’ll go to find one.”

  Janice frustrated took control. “What I'm about to reveal is confidential. The information can never leave this room. Everyone agree?”

  Everyone, except for Matthew, shook their head in agreement. Silence in the room prevailed as they waited for his response. “Why not? Spill the beans. I get it. Nothing leaves this room.”

  Janice took a deep breath and fidgeted in her chair. “Let me make things clear. This isn't the typical case your firm investigates. My husband was involved with that girl. You see the proof. I’m his only alibi and I’ll stick with him on that. He was with me the night that girl was murdered.”

  Matthew’s eyes opened wide. “Are you certain of that? You were with your husband the entire time last night?”

  Not wanting to incriminate herself again, she redirected Matthew’s question. “My husband is the leading politician in this community. After his term in Congress is complete, he will become the governor of Louisiana and I will be the next First Lady of this fine state. We cannot risk having our credibility undermined by this hooker or for that matter, any hooker.”

  “Or, dead girls who had a relationship with him.” Matthew’s tone was extremely harsh.

  “I’m glad you understand my point. I cannot risk his association with her or anyone else coming out in the news.”

  “It doesn't seem you need a private investigation firm Mrs. Thompson.” Matthew leaned back in his chair. “You might be better off in marriage counseling.”

  Janice glanced at Mr. Snead. “I realize you believe he’s the best. I find him arrogant, condescending and rude.” She glared back over at Matthew. “Let me make myself clear. I don't know who this hooker is. As his wife, I know he's sleeping with her. That's where you come in. I need for you to find her and get her out of the picture.”

  “What does this have to do with the serial killer on the loose?” Matthew looked puzzled with a deep frown. “What happens if we unveil he’s the Sorority serial killer? What then? Just to be clear.”

  Janice teared and choked. “Frances Cook, one of his victims, was also my niece. My husband never touched her.” She swallowed hard to regain her composure. “I want you to find that son of a bitch and take him down. But first, find the hooker.”

  “Our services don’t come cheap.” Mr. Snead handed her an invoice.

  “Money has never been an issue. You find the hooker; your company will be well paid. There’s a bonus if your company succeeds.”

  Matthew did his best to stifle a grin of unbounded delight. “I could use a Lamborghini.”

  “Mr. Raymond, extortion is a federal offense.”

  “So is murder.” Matthew’s frank tone shot directly through Janice.

  ***

  Samantha and George sat behind the anchor desk and prepped for the nightly KWNC broadcast. A production assistant handed Samantha a piece of printed paper. “This came in on the news wire. The producer wants you to move this to the top of the news.”

  “Thanks.” Samantha read the information before handing it to George.

  George scanned the press release. “Looks like those home invasions have been bumped to murder.”

  “Looks that way. The scary part that man was my neighbor.” Samantha gave a quick disgusted frown. “What a waste. He and his wife were the perfect couple.”

  “She’s also the number one suspect. Her fingerprints were on the bullet.”

  “Lacy isn’t like that. She wouldn’t even kill a mosquito if she were out in the middle of the bayou getting eaten alive by them.”

  “We’re supposed to report the news, not speculate on it.”

  The floor producer raised his hand opened with his fingers up. “You’re live in five seconds.”

  Five, four, three, two, one. “Welcome to What Matters, I’m Samantha Breland.”

  “And, I’m George Newland. Today, media spokesperson, Gary Egret announced the Synthetic Organic Lifeform Autonomous Robot or better known as SO-LAR, the most advance robot created at Dimension Global is getting an update in its programming with the capability to adapt and to learn. This is good news for the crew of the U.S.S. Dimension heading toward the Trappist system. The next time their computer system links with NASA, the update will automatically be installed. SO-LAR is currently programmed with complete medical and engineering data banks. The added software will make SO-LAR capable of commanding the ship and war ready if need be. When they arrive to the TRAPPIST-1, SO-LAR will have already received the updates and most likely will be the first to explore Terra Realm.”

  chapter 25

  Stranger Things

  Mag and Jenni slid into their favorite booth at Perks.

  Mag opened her computer. “Where has the day gone? It’s six o’clock already and we have tons of research to do.”

  “We need more coffee if we’re ever going to finish this project.”

  “Be patient, it’s coming. Look. Here comes snaggle tooth.”

  Alice, a middle-aged waitress stopped at the end of the booth. The gap between her teeth told more about her than she would ever share. She coldly stared at Jenni. “Coffee?”

  “Make it three.”

  “I only see two people.”

  “We have another coming. She’s in the restroom.”

  “Fine. Have it your way.” The waitress left. Once she reached the back, she collided into Blaze.

  “I’m sorry.” Blaze headed straight toward the back booth and slid in beside Jenni.

  Mag bit her lower lip in frustration. “About time you got here.”

  “I had to go to the library.” Blaze retrieved a book from her backpack and placed it in front of her.

  Mag looked at the copy of Stephen Hawking’s book, The Grand Design. “Can you even understand what you’re reading?”

  “Dr. Wright was right. Hawking’s books are deep with theoretical content. Takes me twice to read a passage before I grasp it.”

  Jenni scratched her head. “Then why read it?”

  “Because, Stephen Hawking was the most intelligent human who ever lived. I believe he left me a message somewhere.”

  Mag slid back and leaned against the bench. “A message. Don’t be ridiculous. He didn’t even know you.”

  “When my father was young, he met him. I remember him talking about Hawking and the fourth dimension.”

  Mag widened her eyes. “Okay. You’re officially weird.”

  Blaze huffed. “I don’t know what is weirder, near death experiences, M-Theory or the fourth dimension being a reality.”

  Mag twitched and crossed her legs. “I’ve heard of weirder things.”

  “Me too.” Jenni sipped her drink. “I like the paranormal stuff when ghosts appear.”

  Mag smirked with self-assurance. “Personally, I’m a sci-fi kind of girl. I like shows where they go to a parallel universe.”

  Blaze frowned. “Serio
usly! That’s what the universe needs, two Mags running around making a fool out of themselves.”

  “Give me a parallel universe any day of the week. Who in their right mind wants to die and come back and have to live with that? Not me.”

  “I don’t know.” Blaze sipped Mag’s water. “I’d think it would be cool to come back from the dead and scare everyone.”

  Jenni’s mouth tightened. “Yikes. I just want to live and not constantly worry about a serial killer.”

  Mag patted Jenni on her back. “Look at the bright side. You could always return as a ghost.”

  “That’s not funny.” Jenni glanced at Roth who came over to the booth.

  “You ladies don’t have coffee. I told Alice to bring it.”

  Blaze’s lips formed into a pout. “What did you think about Dr. Wright’s lecture?”

  “Made me want to buy her books. I may have found my calling. I’d like to learn what goes on in the mind of a serial killer.”

  ***

  Judas’ bloodshot eyes burned and itched. His hands trembled as he adjusted the levels of the cube on the hologram control panel. He placed his hands over it. Electricity shot through the cube as the static noise gained intensity. The lightning bolts begged to escape as they crashed against the tesseract’s sides.

  “Deedra, increase the power.”

  “Judas, Transcendence power will not hold up. You must delete the power, not increase it.”

  Sparks flew. The room went dark.

  ***

  Commotion settled at Hammer and Snead after Janice’s appointment. Matthew, frustrated, sat at his desk. He clenched his jaw and grabbed his hair on the verge of pulling it out. Peterson stepped from behind him and placed his hand on his shoulder. Matthew jumped to his feet, grabbed Peterson's arm, twisted it and slammed his face onto the desk as if he were Milo. “I suggest you never sneak up on me again. You got it?”

  “Clearly.”

  Matthew smashed Peterson’s face against the desk.

  Debra stood and headed toward them. “Matthew stop it!”

  He released his grip.

  Red faced, Peterson stood and straightened his shirt. “What’s eating your ass? You need professional help.”

  Matthew pondered the statement. “Peterson, you’re right again. I need professional help.” Matthew gathered his belongings and left.

  As the door closed behind Matthew, Peterson took his seat. “One day he’ll find himself in a position he won’t be able to escape.”

  ***

  Agents Locklear and Mansfield departed the Ink Spot, one of the best tattoo parlors in the city on Magazine Street. A frown bellowed from Agent Locklear. “That was a total waste of our time and resources. Twenty tattoo places and we haven’t scratched the surface.”

  “Not really. We acquired more information than you might think.”

  “We got nothing. The girl didn’t recognize Roxy or Kara and denied they ever had been in the parlor. Hell, she never saw that tattoo.”

  “Not exactly. While you were grilling her, I did a little snooping on my own. Did you read the article framed on the south wall?”

  “I didn’t notice it.”

  “That’s why you think we came away with nothing. The article was an expose on the tattoo artist, Lewis Hunter. He won competitions all over the world which included Scotland, Canada and the United States. Now we need to verify those dates. We may have a link to the Surgical serial killer.”

  “I knew I liked working with you for a reason. Let’s get back to the office and do a little digging.”

  “I’m already on it. I asked Deedra to perform the search and send it to my D-Mail. Let’s stop and get a bite to eat. It will be a long night.”

  ***

  Matthew’s foot pressed hard against the accelerator as he drove along Canal Street oblivious to the red light. A siren blasted. “Damn it.”

  Before he pulled over, he drove a little way to find a spot that wouldn’t stall the evenings commute out of the city. He retrieved his insurance card, registration and his license before the police officer approached the car. He rolled his window down and waited.

  The officer towered over Matthew. “Sir, the light was red when you crossed the intersection.”

  “Yes sir, I’m sorry. I’m on a mission.”

  “No excuses. Hand me your driver’s license, registration and insurance card.”

  Matthew handed him the documents and placed both of his hands on the steering wheel.

  The officer reviewed them. “Any relation to Commissioner Raymond?”

  “He’s my father.”

  “You shouldn’t be running red lights.”

  “I agree officer. No excuses.”

  The officer handed back Matthew’s paperwork. “Look, I’m going to only give you a warning. If I catch you speeding again, I won’t be so forgiving.”

  “Thank you, officer.”

  “Don’t thank me, I should be thanking you.”

  “Excuse me? I’m a little confused.”

  “After reading your name, I recognized you were the guy who captured the Co-Ed serial killer. I owe you thanks for that. My little sister was one of his victims.”

  Surprised by the officer’s statement, it baffled Matthew. “You remember her?”

  “Of course.”

  “Do your parents remember her?”

  “Now that’s a strange question. Of course, they do. Why would they forget her?”

  “After that psycho murdered my sister, my parents don’t even acknowledge her. It’s as if she never existed.”

  “I didn’t realize the Commissioner had a daughter who was murdered by the Co-Ed serial killer.”

  “Apparently no one else does either. Thank you for not giving me a ticket.”

  “Be careful out there Mr. Raymond. Slow down and keep your eyes open. Milo Evans escaped. You think you can catch him again?”

  “I have full intentions. Can you do me a favor and if you hear anything about his whereabouts call me?”

  “What’s your number?”

  Matthew retrieved his wallet, pulled out his business card and handed it to the officer. “I didn’t catch your name?”

  “Lee Oswald. Before you ask, yes, a relative of Lee Harvey Oswald.”

  “You must get that a lot?”

  “You have no idea.”

  “I bet I do. Try having the same name as the police commissioner?”

  chapter 26

  My Dad is a Serial Killer

  Dr. Wright chose her office space making certain she could walk to the many fine restaurants in the Warehouse District. The building and elegant décor reflected the French Quarter style showcased by fourteen foot ceilings, original crown molding, a wooden floor and brick walls. An antique crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling above her desk as sunlight from the French doors and balcony gave the room the perfect warm glow. Even the guest chairs, the chaise lounge, the oversized recliner chair near the balcony and the plush couch added to the atmosphere.

  Dr. Wright worked behind her white French provincial gold trimmed antique desk in an oversized leather executive chair. A clickity clang streetcar passed outside her window as she read the documents associated to the Sorority serial killer. A tap on her door interrupted her thought. “Come in Doreen.”

  Doreen peeked her head in. “Mr. Matthew Raymond is here to see you.”

  “Send him in.”

  As Matthew entered, Dr. Wright rose. They cordially shook hands.

  “I’m Matthew.” Matthew impressed by her elegance received inner confirmation he had made an excellent decision. One of the many firsts in a long time. Maybe seeing a psychologist isn’t a bad idea.

  “Please take a seat Mr. Raymond.” Liz retreated to her chair and sat. He’s very depressed and hiding something.

  He brushed his hair back and eased into the chair. What a gorgeous woman. “Thank you for freeing your schedule to talk with me. This is very important and confidential.”

  �
��They all are, Mr. Raymond.”

  “Please call me Matthew.” He hoped for her first name in exchange.

  “Matthew it is. Now, let me see if I understood you correctly. You want my help to get into the mind of a serial killer?”

  “That is correct.”

  “May I inquire as to whom?”

  “Milo Evans, the Co-ed serial killer. Are you familiar with the case?”

  “Too much so. I worked it as a consultant five years ago.”

  “I’m the one who caught him at the park.”

  “You’re that Matthew Raymond.”

  “The one and only. We were destined to have this meeting.”

  “If you caught him, why come seek my services?”

  “Several reasons. He knows what happened to my sister because he killed her. I want to catch the bastard again. I need your insight to do this.”

  “Why me? The FBI is on the case.”

  “Wouldn’t that mean you are too?”

  “I haven’t been asked to consult on it.”

  “That’s my point. Nobody is doing a damn thing to capture him.”

  “I’ll ask you again, why me?”

  “I’m not sure even where to start. My father says you’re the best profiler in the country. Tell me, how did you get into this business?”

  “My dad is a serial killer.” She gave him a cold stone roguish glance.

  “I didn’t see that one coming. All joking aside, I need your help.”

  “I’ll do my best. How can I help you?”

  “Since you worked the case, I’m sure you are aware my sister, Livia Raymond, was killed by Milo.”

  “Excuse me. I’m familiar with every victim of the Co-Ed serial killer and Livia Raymond was not one.”

  “Not you too. Forget it. Anyway, I think he’s about to kill another girl fitting his signature victimology. I need your help to stop him.”

  “What makes you think he’s targeting this girl?”

  Matthew removed Livia’s picture and handed it to her. “That’s my sister.” Matthew thumbed through the pictures on his phone until he found Blaze at the Zydeco concert. He handed her his phone.