Murder, Mayhem, Monsters, and Mistletoe

by Lindy Spencer

  Chapter Two

  Frank eased the car onto the snow covered roadway, making several attempts to turn the car back toward town before he let out a long sigh and sank back into his seat. John gave his partner a long look as the car crept down the snow covered roadway. He thought long and hard about the need to tell his partner and long-time friend about his meeting with the deceased boy. He wanted to tell him to really focus on the ring. But this desire soon faded. John knew that it wouldn't be in his favor to start telling ghost stories. He knew that Frank had always had his back and had saved his butt on numerous occasions – not only from gunfire, but from the cruelty of his co-workers. This would not be a good time to test that loyalty.

  John wasn't a fool. He knew that he wasn't well respected by most of the officers that he worked with. He also knew that if it weren't for Frank, he would have turned in his badge long ago. But for some reason, Frank saw something in John that the others didn't and this made John a better cop. And for that, John would always be grateful. He turned to look out through the foggy windshield and past the working wipers and thought, if I could just solve this case, they could pin that award to my chest, and finally get the respect I deserve. He felt his stomach churn as he thought about the case, knowing that it would take more than simple luck to solve this case. Today's victim, little Jacob, made number nine.

  John remained silent as they made their way back to town, his mind poring through the information that they had about the serial killer — the monster that had chosen their little town for his playground. He shook his head in frustration, knowing that the clock was ticking and they were no closer to having any real suspects.

  They arrived back at the precinct an hour after the sky had turned black. The snow had nearly stopped, but the cold wind sucked the breath from John's lungs as he stepped free from the car. After catching his breath he called out to Frank. "It's late. Are we going to work on this tonight, or get a fresh start in the morning?" John heard the drivers' side door slam shut and Frank shake his head in disgust as he leaned forward, his hands pulling his jacket tight to his chest as he hurried toward the building. "I hate when he gets like this," John said, not caring if Frank heard.

  He, too, pulled his jacket tight and started moving toward the main entrance to the police station being careful, remembering his lack of grace and the poor choice of footwear. As he made his way past the cruiser and successfully stepping up onto the sidewalk he raised his head, wanting to make sure that he didn't walk into a light pole or maybe one of the many trees that decorated the landscape. His throat tightened and his body froze. He was no more animate than the bronze statue of a past war hero that stood to his left. His eyes strained and his mouth opened, wanting to call out to his partner, wanting to make him see.

  John let out a long desperate breath as Frank pulled the heavy glass door open and stepped through, not noticing the dead little boy with the blue tinted skin leaning against the wall at the station's entrance. It took everything that he had to break free of his frozen state, slowly moving forward, wondering what little Jacob was doing and at the same time doubting his own sanity.

  He stopped in front of little Jacob as a shiver ran through his body. John didn't like the way the shiver affected him, making him feel weak and disoriented. He slowly shook his head as he gathered himself. "Jacob?"

  "Yes Mr. John?" Jacob asked with an innocent voice.

  "What are you doing here?"

  "I want to help you find who did this."

  John nodded his head and said, "That's good, Jacob, but you have already helped a lot. Besides, isn't there some place you should be?" he asked, realizing that he had always assumed that once someone passed, there was some force pulling them towards some form of afterlife.

  Jacob looked up and smiled. "You mean because I'm dead?"

  John nodded his head. "Yeah, I guess that's what I mean," he said, fighting to keep his emotions in check.

  Jacob shrugged his shoulders and said, "Yeah, they have been calling for me. But I just keep telling them that they will have to wait. I've got something to do."

  "You can hear them?" John asked, his voice filled with surprise.

  Smiling from ear to ear, Jacob said, "Oh of course I can hear them, Mr. John. And it is the most beautiful sound ever. I think that I hear it more in my heart than I do my ears."

  John leaned forward. "Then why don't you go, Jacob? Why would you want to be here instead?"

  "That's simple. I know that I am dead. And I know that I will have an eternity there," he said pointing over his shoulder. "So I decided to stay and help you for a while Mr. John, just like you helped me when I was little."

  John felt a heartwarming smile wash over his face as he looked down at Jacob. He nodded and said, "Okay, but you can't just show up like this. It makes me think I am losing it," he said as he hurried to look over both shoulders, frustrated with himself for becoming so comfortable with his conversations with the deceased that he might not notice someone approaching.

  "Okay, deal!" Jacob said with a huge grin as his right hand shot out, offering it to John. John took his hand and shook it. Instantly he felt that dreaded shiver wash over him and his world began to tilt. Jacob couldn't help but see the effect on his only friend and quickly withdrew his hand.

  With sadness now settling on his face he looked up at John and said, "There is a reason that I came to see you again."

  John placed the palm of his hand against the wall, still trying to gather his wits as he took a long breath. "And what's the reason?"

  "Any minute you will be getting another call."

  "A call?"

  "There will be another murder. Well, to be honest, it has already happened. But I believe that the body is being discovered this very minute."

  "What? You can't know that."

  "But I do."

  "Who is it, Jacob. Who is the killer?" John demanded in a stern voice.

  Jacob took a step back as he clenched his jaw. "Mr. John, is that the way you talk to your friends?"

  John closed his eyes and had a hard time not letting out a chuckle, not wanting to believe that he had been rebuffed by a little boy, let alone a ghost. With a smile he said, "I'm sorry Jacob. You are right."

  The smile returned to Jacob's face as he said, "I always liked you, Mr. John." He hesitated for a moment. "I don't know who the killer is, but I know that you do."

  "What? How can that be? Have I arrested him before? How do I know him?" he blurted out at the same moment the doors of the police station opened and Frank stepped through in a hurry.

  "I guess they found the body," Jacob said. John turned to see Frank hurrying down the steps, mumbling something about it being a long night. "Don't you think you should go?" Jacob suggested.

  "Well, yeah, but first tell me how I am supposed to know who the killer is, Jacob. I need to know," he pleaded.

  "Go on, Mr. John, before you get left behind. I'll see you there." The smile on little boy blue intensified an instant before his existence faded. John jerked his head back and forth, searching for little Jacob, not willing to let the question go unanswered. But he didn't have a choice. There was nothing in front of him but an empty brick wall. When he turned toward the parking lot he could see that Frank was already nearing the car and in a hurry.

  "Great," John mumbled as he hurried away from the building, using Frank's footprints to hurry his pace. He slipped into the passenger seat just as Frank jammed the gear shift into reverse.

  "What a way to spend the holidays," Frank said with sincere sadness.

  "Only a few days until Thanksgiving," John added, feeling the shared hopelessness.

  Staring out through the windshield, Frank said, "I wish that you could spend the day with us like before. We had some good times," he said, his expression filled with sadness.

  John turned to look at his partner, unsure if his comment was because of the case or maybe he had done something to disappoint him. "We still can."

  Frank
just shook his head as he pulled the car out onto the snow covered street.