The Killer Next Door: A Murder Mystery

by Nicholas Jordan

  Her mother smiled and stepped aside. “That’s fine. Thank you, Detective.”

  He started to leave the room, but Kaylee spoke up before he had a chance to go.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “Kaylee, no,” her mother said. “Let the detective handle this.”

  “I’m the one that creep was watching. I want to go over there too.”

  Her mother opened her mouth—no doubt to tell her no once again—but she was cut off before she could even say a word by the detective.

  “It’s okay. She can come.”

  Kaylee tried to look Ferguson in the eye, but he was already out of the room and heading down the hall for the stairs. She definitely wasn’t expecting to get support from him, but she would take any support she could get right now, and from just about anyone.

  ***

  Kaylee stuck close to Detective Ferguson as the cop marched up the walkway to Frank’s porch and then rang the doorbell. Then they waited.

  But how long would he keep them waiting for?

  What was he even doing in there?

  She didn’t really want to know. All she wanted was for him to open the door so the detective could confront him, and maybe—if she had to—confront him herself as well.

  Even though he would most likely deny filming her, she was not going to allow him to get away with this.

  Not a chance.

  Her eyes wandered the well-pruned hedges, the flowers that lined the walk, and the tacky ornaments scattered amongst the lavender, sage, and other plants that dotted the front yard. All she could think about was Emma.

  Kaylee pictured her watering the flowers and plucking weeds. While Frank watched her every move.

  Only thirteen years old.

  So young and naïve.

  And so trusting of someone that she never should have trusted. Someone who only wanted to take advantage of her.

  The seconds ticked by, turning into minutes, and still Frank was a no show, which led Kaylee to believe that he knew they were outside and was just refusing to come to the door.

  The detective rang the doorbell again. Then he knocked.

  “Frank Palmer, are you home?”

  “He’s not going to open it,” Kaylee said. “The asshole knows why we’re here I bet.”

  “Relax. You should never jump to conclusions. Just a little advice in case you ever decide to pursue a career in law enforcement.”

  “Yeah. Right.” Kaylee rolled her eyes. “Like that will ever happen.”

  “You never know. You might be good at it.”

  “Really? You think I’d make a good cop?”

  “Sure. As long as you do something about that attitude of yours.”

  “What attitude?”

  The detective looked at her and grinned. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Whatever.” Kaylee turned away. Tapped her foot impatiently. The fact that it was so cold out here didn’t make it any easier to wait. “Just knock on the door already and shout ‘this is the police’ or whatever it is you guys do.”

  “That’s not the way it works.”

  “Why not?”

  “It just doesn’t.”

  “Well maybe it should.”

  “Yeah. Maybe it should.”

  “Alright, then what are we waiting for?” The last of Kaylee’s patience dried up and she moved right past Ferguson and rapped her fist against the door.

  “Kaylee, don’t do tha—”

  His sentence was cut short when the door was finally opened. Frank stood on the other side. Dressed in an ugly argyle sweater and navy sweatpants. His lips looked like they wanted to twist into a smile when he saw Kaylee standing on his doorstep, but that smile was aborted the moment he noticed the detective right behind her.

  “I’m sorry to bother you so late like this, Mr. Palmer.” Ferguson stepped forward so that he was shoulder to shoulder with Kaylee. “My name is Detective Robert Ferguson.”

  He flashed his badge.

  “Is there something I can help you with, Detective?”

  “There might be. I’ve had a complaint that I didn’t feel like I could just ignore.”

  “A complaint? W-what kind of complaint?”

  “Do you own a video camera, Mr. Palmer?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “He’s lying,” Kaylee spoke up. “He’s just trying—”

  “Let me handle this,” Ferguson cut her off.

  Kaylee bit down on her bottom lip and rocked back and forth on her feet. It was so hard to hold back all of the things that she wanted to say. The thought of this pervert getting away with what he did—especially after the way he abused Emma Henderson—made her sick. Someone had to make sure that Frank was punished, and Kaylee was more than happy to be that someone.

  “Are you sure you don’t own a camera?” Ferguson asked again. “I’m sure this is all just a big misunderstanding, but I need you to be completely honest with me.”

  “I’m not lying to you, Detective. I really don’t own a camera. If I did, I would tell you of course. If you don’t mind me asking, what kind of complaint are we talking about here?”

  Kaylee spoke up before the detective had a chance to say a word. “You were recording me in my bedroom, you sicko. Stop trying to deny it. I already know that you did it.”

  “Kaylee, don’t,” Ferguson warned her again.

  “Filming you in your bedroom?” Frank chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t know what would give you an idea like that. I would never do something so . . . despicable.”

  “What about Emma Henderson? I have a feeling that she would disagree with you.”

  The old man’s smile vanished in an instant. “How do you know about her?”

  “I know what you did to her.” Kaylee ignored his question. “But I’m not going to be another victim, so keep your disgusting fantasies to yourself.”

  Without waiting for a response from Frank—she wasn’t interested in anything he had to say—she looked up at Ferguson. “Are you going to arrest him?”

  The detective placed his hands on his hips and shook his head. “No. I’m not.”

  “Fine. Then I’m leaving.” Kaylee turned around and stormed off, going back down the walkway to the sidewalk, where she turned left to head back towards her house. She was nearly there when she heard footsteps behind her, followed by the detective’s voice.

  “Kaylee, hold up. I need to talk to you.”

  “Well I don’t want to talk to you anymore. You didn’t do anything to help me.”

  “Not yet, but that doesn’t mean that I won’t.

  Kaylee stopped at the end of her driveway and turned around, arms crossed and lips twisted into a scowl.

  “Listen, I can’t arrest Mr. Palmer based purely on accusations. I need proof.”

  “Well, I don’t have proof so I guess that means I’m out of luck.”

  “Not necessarily.” He took a step forward. “Listen, I’ve been a cop for a long time. I got a pretty good idea when someone’s not being honest with me, and that guy is definitely not being honest.”

  “So what exactly does that mean?”

  “It means I need your help.”

  “My help? Why would I help you when you haven’t done anything to help me?”

  “Because we can help each other.”

  “How?”

  “It’s simple. We both want the same thing.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Justice. As you know, I’m still investigating the murder of Claudia Henderson, and based on statements from both her husband and several neighbors, I have reason to believe that Frank Palmer has a motive.”

  “You mean because of what happened with Emma?”

  “Exactly. But I don’t have enough evidence right now to get a warrant to search his house. That’s where you come in.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Come down to the station and give a written statement on what happened tonight. That statement, along with
his alleged history, should be enough to get a warrant to search his place for the camera. As well as—”

  “The murder weapon,” Kaylee finished his sentence for him.

  Ferguson nodded. “That’s right.”

  Kaylee didn’t have to think about it for long to come to a decision. “Alright,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

  14

  “I THINK IT’S GREAT WHAT you did, Kaylee. I really do. It’s about time that someone finally made sure that disgusting old man gets what he deserves.”

  Kaylee’s only response to Mia was a nod. She also felt like she was doing the right thing. But what if it didn’t amount to anything? She made a bargain with Detective Ferguson. At least that was the way she saw it. She agreed to give her statement, and in exchange the detective would arrest Frank for filming her. And maybe even for murder.

  But would the detective uphold his end of the bargain? Would he even be able to? What if he couldn’t get the warrant? Or what if he searched the whole house and couldn’t find the camera? Frank might have gotten rid of it already.

  “What’s wrong?” Mia asked, leaning in closer. “Please don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts about reporting that guy.”

  “No, that’s not it,” Kaylee said with a sigh. The two of them were sitting on the bench on Mia’s porch. Kaylee had been on her way home from checking the mail when Mia noticed her and invited her to come sit with her. Without an excuse not to—there wasn’t even any mail to take inside—and actually feeling like she wasn’t opposed to a little company, she took Mia up on her offer, and ended up telling her everything that happened the night before.

  “Well, what’s wrong then?” Mia asked.

  Kaylee got to her feet and moved to lean on the porch railing while she gazed across the street. It took a lot of self-control to avoid allowing her eyes to wander over to Eric’s house. His car was parked in the driveway, which could only mean that he was somewhere inside.

  Part of her wanted to see him come walking out the front door right now, wearing that smug smile of his. A smile that made her cheeks feel like they were on fire and her stomach feel like a little creature inside was trying to escape.

  “I guess I’m just anxious,” Kaylee admitted.

  “How come?”

  “What if the cops don’t arrest Frank? What if it was all just a waste of time?”

  “Don’t think like that. I’m sure that won’t happen.” Mia appeared at her side. Put a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know for sure that Frank killed Mrs. Henderson, although I wouldn’t be surprised if he did, but I do know that he molested Emma and tried to film you, so I’m sure the cops will arrest him.”

  “Yeah, I hope so.”

  The words had barely left Kaylee’s lips when she noticed two cars drive by. One was a black and white police cruiser and the other was an unmarked silver car, which she recognized as the car that Ferguson drove.

  Her eyes tracked the two cars as they drove by Mia’s house, then her own, before finally pulling over and parking in front of Frank’s house.

  “Well, it looks like your statement was definitely not a waste of time,” Mia said.

  Kaylee scampered off the porch and across Mia’s front yard to the sidewalk to get a better view of what was going on two houses down. She watched Ferguson—flanked by two officers—march up to the front door. The detective came to a stop on the doorstep and then rang the doorbell.

  Unlike last night, it didn’t take long for Frank to open the door. A few words were exchanged—but Kaylee was too far away to hear what was said—before Ferguson handed a sheet of paper over to Frank. He looked over his shoulder and gestured for the other two cops to follow before entering the house, even as Frank was still reading the paper that he’d been given.

  That had to be the warrant.

  A good sign.

  Now Kaylee just had to hope they were able to find what they were looking for. And she was willing to wait around to find out. She would wait as long as it took.

  The minutes ticked by, and Mia soon joined Kaylee. They moved closer to Frank’s house. They just stood there, neither speaking, although Mia did pull out her phone and start texting. They just watched and waited.

  And they weren’t the only ones.

  Greg Henderson came outside and stood at the end of his driveway with his hands in his pockets and eyes glued to Frank’s house. Kaylee couldn’t help but wonder what he would do if the detective ended up arresting Frank for his wife’s murder.

  Some other neighbors were gathering on street corners or watching from windows as well. One old woman walking her poodle came to a stop across the street and gawked as her dog barked relentlessly.

  Kaylee liked dogs, but she really wished that woman would shut hers up.

  She glanced at Eric’s house. Scanned all the windows in hopes of seeing Eric in one of them, but she didn’t. All the curtains were closed. They were always closed in that house.

  “Kaylee, look,” Mia spoke up suddenly.

  Kaylee turned back to Frank’s house in time to see one of the two officers leading Frank out of the house. His arms handcuffed behind his back.

  Ferguson and the other cop followed. The detective was wearing gloves, and he had a plastic bag in one hand. Inside the bag was a handgun.

  The murder weapon.

  Kaylee started to approach the detective as Frank was being loaded into the back of the police car. Ferguson glanced in her direction, handed the bag off to the second officer, and then moved to intercept her.

  “This is not the time,” he told her.

  “So it was him?” Kaylee asked. “He killed her?”

  “Maybe. We haven’t finished out investigation yet, but we’re working on it. In the meantime, I need you to go back home and let us handle this.”

  “What about the camera? Did you find it?”

  “Go home, Kaylee. I’ll come by later and fill you in on everything that you need to know.”

  “You’re just saying that to get rid of me. Aren’t you?”

  “I give you my word that I’ll come by.”

  “But I—”

  “Kaylee. You might not want to hear this, but you’re going to have to trust me. Alright?”

  Kaylee held the detective’s gaze for a heartbeat. Then glanced over his shoulder at the car where Frank resided right now. About to be hauled off to jail. He wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone once he was there.

  “You’re right. I don’t want to hear it, but I guess I don’t have much of a choice.”

  She didn’t want to be patient, but a little patience probably wasn’t too much for the detective to ask for consider he was arresting Frank after all.

  Ferguson nodded. Then turned around and started to head back to the other officers.

  While Kaylee moved to stand beside Mia again. On the way, she glanced across the street to find that Greg was no longer in his driveway. He must have gone back inside.

  She wondered what was going through his head right now. Was he angry? Could he be relieved? Or was he just thinking about everything that he wanted to do to Frank if he got the chance?

  Kaylee thought about the same thing just about every time Chelsea’s killer crossed her mind.

  She envied Greg. At least Claudia’s killer would be punished for his crime. Kaylee no longer had faith that the man who murdered Chelsea would ever face any punishment. It was even worse because she could recall his face so clearly by simply closing her eyes and remembering. To know exactly what the killer looked like, and not be able to find him . . . there was nothing worse than that. She would rather have no idea who it was. At least the image of his face wouldn’t torment her all the time.

  She often wondered what she would do if she ever found him? In fact, she thought about it every day.

  But at least it wouldn’t be the same with Frank. Knowing that gave Kaylee at least a little hope that there might be some justice in the world.

  ***

  “So you’re s
aying it’s case closed then?” Kaylee asked, leaning forward in her seat. “Like, you know for sure that it was Frank who killed her?”

  Ferguson shook his head. “We can’t be a hundred percent sure yet, but it’s as close to a done deal as it gets. The ballistics report confirms that the gun we found, which is registered to Frank Palmer, is the weapon used to kill Claudia Henderson. There’s no question about that. And we have motive as well. The only thing we don’t have is a confession.”

  “He won’t admit it?”

  “Nope. He claims he has no idea how she could have been killed with his gun. He says he’s never even used it before in his life. But even without the confession, the guy is toast.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we found the video camera. He was recording you just like you said. And don’t worry. We’ll make sure that footage is destroyed. We also found footage of Emma Henderson, some other girls in the neighborhood, and enough child pornography on the hard drive of his computer to put him away for a long, long time.”

  “My God . . .” Kaylee’s mom spoke up as she entered the living room from the kitchen, carrying a cup of coffee in each hand. “I can’t believe a despicable man like that has been living in this neighborhood for so long. It’s just terrible.”

  She sat down on the couch beside Ferguson and handed him one of the coffee mugs. It was a big couch, and yet she chose to plop herself down right beside the detective. Even though her mom still treated her like a child, she had to know that Kaylee was mature enough— and smart enough—to see what was going on here.

  “Yes, it is,” Ferguson said, fidgeting with his collar. He obviously picked up on her less-than-subtle advances. “We in the department try to keep the streets safe, but it isn’t always easy to uncover pedophiles like Frank Palmer when they make every effort to keep their predatory natures hidden from the public.”

  “So what happens now?” Kaylee asked, wanting to steal the detective’s attention away from her mother. “Is it all over then?”

  “Well we’re going to hold Mr. Palmer until the trial of course. Unless by some miracle, he manages to make bail. But as far as your part in this, yes, it’s all over.”