Jack Ryder Mystery Series: Vol 4-6

by Willow Rose

  Shannon looked at Sarah in the mirror, then at her own reflection. She really didn't feel like resting. She didn't feel like going to a spa or shopping. She wanted to do something, something fun. She had all this energy and felt like she couldn't stop now, or she might burn out. She might lose the energy. She couldn't risk that.

  "I think I’m gonna take some time off for myself too."

  "And you're sure you don't need me? I mean, I can cancel my plans if you need me to stick around?" she asked.

  "No. Of course not. Go have your spa day. I'll be fine on my own for once. It'll probably even be nice just to be by myself and relax. You're right. I need it."

  Sarah sighed contently and leaned back in her chair. She gave Shannon one last concerned look, then seemed to let it go.

  Chapter 49

  August 2018

  She had felt uneasy all day while working at the motel. She couldn't stop thinking about her ex, Frank, and wondering if he had really found her here. How was that even possible? No one knew where she was, not even her own mother, and she had stopped using any social media. All day long, she thought she saw him or looked over her shoulder because she felt like she was being watched. It was about to drive her nuts.

  Diane had hardly closed an eye all night; she couldn't stop worrying about him being here and kept hearing noises in the house. All day yesterday, she had felt like someone was observing her and she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was. Come to think of it, she had felt that way ever since she moved into the house. Maybe Frank had been on her tail all along? Could he really be that vicious?

  You know he can.

  Diane shuddered at the mere thought of him. To think that he had touched her and slept with her night after night made her want to throw up. Everything about him made her shiver in disgust and contempt. Yet she feared him more than any serial killer.

  Because he had nothing to lose anymore.

  Diane got to her feet and stretched, thinking she'd better get ready for a new day. She took a shower, got dressed, and went into the kitchen when she spotted Dennis across the street, mowing his lawn, again. It was almost like a ritual with that man, wasn't it? Every freakin' day, he cut the grass like it wasn't allowed to grow even an inch above what he wanted it to be. His excuse was that it grew like crazy in the Florida heat. It seemed a little overindulgent to Diane. Like he was such perfectionistic that the grass had to be completely correct all the time.

  It reminded her slightly of Frank. He too had paid too much attention to details, making her life miserable by constantly finding faults everywhere and especially with her. Everything had to be in line in the cabinets, the labels turned outwards. Every towel had to be folded the same way, and every shirt had to be ironed to perfection. It had started out being cute but then taken over her life completely. If she messed something up, like she missed one of the cat's hairballs when vacuuming, he would yell at her for days. It was exhausting to live with someone like that, and suddenly Diane felt such deep sympathy for Dennis's wife, Camille. Having two children with a man like that had to be tough.

  Diane walked out to the driveway and picked up the paper. Dennis waved at her while sitting on his mower. His sweaty torso was glistening, yet every hair on his head was pointing in the right direction. She waved back and smiled. Then she looked at the street in front of her house when she realized something was missing.

  Her car.

  Diane stopped and looked at the empty spot in front of her house. Where was her car? She had driven home from work the night before and parked it where she usually did, right in front of her house. Why wasn't it there?

  Diane felt confused and looked around when she suddenly spotted it. It was parked in front of Mr. Fogerty's house. Diane had to rub her eyes to make sure she wasn't still asleep.

  "What the…?"

  Diane ran inside and found the keys to it inside her purse, then walked back out and stared at the car. Could she really have been that tired last night? It was very unlike her.

  Diane shook her head and walked to the car and got inside. She put the key in the ignition, but the car just coughed and didn't start. Diane sighed and leaned back in her seat.

  "Great. That's really great."

  She got out and slammed the door, hard, when she spotted Mr. Fogerty standing on his porch, staring at her with those angry eyes of his.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "I'll make sure it’s moved…later."

  With irritated steps, Diane went back into her house and slammed the door behind her. She looked at the clock. She'd have to take the bus to the motel today and then deal with the car later.

  She stared at the purse on the kitchen counter, when she realized something. This wasn't where she had put it last night. She was certain she had put it on the dresser in her bedroom. What was it doing on the kitchen counter?

  Diane shook the thought and walked up to her bedroom. She stood in the doorway and stared at her bed, her legs beginning to shake.

  Someone had been lying in it. She distinctly remembered making it this morning when she got up. Now, there was an obvious imprint of a figure a lot taller and heavier than she was.

  Chapter 50

  August 2018

  Tyler complained that he had a scratchy throat, but I ended up sending him to the daycare center anyway. He had developed a tendency to try and get out of going recently—ever since Shannon went on tour—and I had a feeling this was one of those days where he just wanted to stay home. I couldn't blame him. After getting five kids ready for school and fighting with Emily about doing laundry or at least doing something instead of just becoming a hermit in her room, I was exhausted and wanted to take the day off myself. Just one day alone at the house, maybe go surfing for a little while. Just me. Alone. No demands, no crying, no fighting.

  But I couldn't.

  I had promised Parker, Josef, and Mark that I would find the guy who had killed their mothers and, in Parker's case, also his sister. I couldn't stop wondering about those two cases. Could it really be the same killer as it had been forty-four years ago? It had to be, right? Mike said so, with the flowers and everything.

  While I was in the car on my way to the station, Diane called.

  "Hi, Diane. What's up?" I asked, getting wind in my hair while driving with the top down as I usually did unless we had a thunderstorm.

  "I think I’m going crazy."

  I laughed. "You and me both, Diane."

  "No, I’m serious. There is something seriously wrong here, and I think it's Frank. I think he found me. He's trying to drive me crazy."

  "What happened?" I asked and turned into the parking lot behind the station. I nodded at the firefighters as they walked by. Their brand-new fire station was located right next to our old building, which also housed city hall.

  "My car. I know I parked it outside my house last night and then this morning, it was parked in front of the neighbor's house."

  "And you couldn't just have parked it in the wrong spot last night? You might have been tired?"

  "I hardly think so. But I couldn't get it started. There is nothing new about that; it does that from time to time. But the thing is, my purse wasn't in its usual spot in my bedroom. It was in the kitchen, and that's where I keep my keys. Someone was in my house, Jack, I am not kidding you. Someone was in here while I slept and stole my purse with the keys to my car, then drove it to the neighbor's house and parked it there."

  "But…why?" I asked.

  "To drive me nuts. And get this. This morning when I came back from finding the car, someone had been lying in my bed. I know I made it when I got up. I always do, and the cover was still on it, but someone had been lying on it and made a huge imprint. I got so scared that I ran to the next-door neighbor's house and that's where I am now."

  "That Dennis guy?"

  "No, next door. Tim and Tiffany."

  "The ones who fight a lot."

  "Yes. He's not home, but she is. She told me I could stay as long as I wanted. But I h
ave to go to work soon, so I think I'll just go to the bus and get to your parents’ motel, then deal with this later on. But, Jack, I am so scared. What if it is Frank? What if he's here to…Maybe I’m just being crazy. Maybe it's just the hormones."

  She went silent.

  "You're pregnant?" I asked.

  She sighed deeply. "Yes."

  "Does Frank know?"

  She paused. "Yes. I told him a few days before I left. It was because of the pregnancy that I decided to leave the second time. I didn't want a child to grow up under those circumstances. I wanted a better future for my child."

  "But now you're thinking that the fact that you're pregnant might make him even more determined to find you and bring you back. Or maybe even worse, kill you both for leaving him. I can't blame you."

  "So, you think he did find me?" she asked. "I just don't understand how?"

  "Psychopaths have their ways. I think it's mostly in that they don't ever give up. They're relentless. Maybe you should stay somewhere else tonight. I’m sure my parents can lend you a room at the motel for a few nights till we have this figured out."

  "Okay," Diane said. "I'll talk to them when I get there."

  "I'll have the patrol cars drive past your house a few times a day just to make sure no one is sneaking around in the area. Can you text me a picture of him, so they'll know who to look for?"

  "O-of course. I'll do it right away. Listen, Jack. Thank you so much for taking me seriously. I don't think anyone else would have at this point. I am truly grateful for that."

  "No problem, Diane. It's my job to keep you safe."

  Chapter 51

  August 2018

  Around lunchtime, I went to Juice N' Java to grab myself an Americano sandwich on sourdough, then took it with me back to the station and ate at my desk. I didn't really have time for a proper break, so I compromised.

  I kept thinking about Diane and that ex-husband of hers. It seemed to be a bad case of harassment that he was exposing her to these days, and he sure sounded like a creep, but deep inside, something was nagging at me about it all. It was those silly flowers.

  The daisies.

  I ate my sandwich wondering about them and about what Mike had told me. He had been on the force for a long time. It was truly valuable to have his knowledge around, and I had to give it some extra thought.

  I didn't want to tell Diane about it since there was no reason to scare her further, but I couldn't help wondering. Could it be a coincidence that Diane received daises when she moved into the very same house where the Monday Morning Killer had committed his first crime? Or could someone—like her ex-husband—be playing a cruel joke on her? Could it be a third person? Maybe a neighbor? Who else would know about the flowers? Mike had told me it wasn't mentioned anywhere since it had not been made public and that the detective who investigated the Monday Morning Killer back then hadn't believed it was important. I would give everything I had to have a chat with that detective, but unfortunately, he had died of cancer five years ago. All I had were his handwritten notes and the reports from back then. They had no computers, and everything was a mess, to be honest. Still, I went through each and every report once again, desperately searching for something to help me, anything that would stand out.

  About an hour later, Joe Hall came to my desk and handed me a cup of coffee.

  "Thought you needed it," he said.

  I looked up and smiled. I grabbed the coffee and sipped it. "Thank you. I really did."

  "So, what're you working at?"

  "I’m just going through the old cases again."

  "Finding anything interesting?" he asked and sipped his cup.

  "Not really. It's so odd…" I grabbed my cup and sipped it again while staring out the window quickly, before returning to the report.

  "What's odd?" Joe asked.

  I looked at him, then shook my head. "Daisies."

  "What do you mean daisies?"

  I shook my head again. "It's probably nothing. How's the kid? How's Parker? You were out there earlier, right?"

  Joe nodded. "Took the first shift before Marty took over."

  "How is he?"

  "Pretty good," he said. "The dad has been there almost every day. He's being discharged soon, they say. Jim Reynolds has said Parker can come live with him in Vero Beach. He's gonna need a lot of training to be able to walk normally, but they have great hopes for him they say."

  "Maybe I should pay him another visit soon. He must have seen more than he wants to tell me. I know he keeps stating that he doesn’t remember anything, but I can't help feeling like he's just saying that. If he's doing better, then there’s no harm in questioning him."

  "Maybe go through the dad," Joe said. "He seems to have a good connection with the boy. It looks like the boy looks up to him a lot."

  I nodded while biting my lip. "I think you might be right," I said and lifted my cup in recognition. "If I can get Jim to tell him to open up to me, then maybe he will. Good call."

  I barely got to swallow the sip of my coffee before my phone rang. It was the daycare center. Tyler was running a fever again.

  Chapter 52

  Cocoa Beach 2013

  After his dad left, life became a living hell for the boy. His mother told him he was a plague, that all men were, and that he was never ever to get close to his sister or her again. She told him she didn't want him inside the house anymore and made him live in the shed in the backyard, where there was no AC and no toilets and when he asked to come inside and use the restroom, she told him to go in the yard. Showers he could take by using the hose, and she would put food for him on the doorstep of the shed. But under no circumstances was he ever allowed inside the house again. And if she caught him as much as staring at his sister, she would throw him into the street. Then she told him to be happy. Men were pigs, and now he could have the pleasure of living like one.

  "It fits you perfectly."

  Trying to keep some sort of sanity and stability, the boy spent most of his days with Hector and Victoria. He no longer gave the eggs to his momma, and since no one ate them, there were piling up beside the enclosure. The boy liked to mash them with his fingers or dig his nails through the shell and then wiggle a finger around inside of the gooey mass.

  It was also around that same time he began hanging out with the neighbor's cat. He lured it close by handing it some of the ham his mother had put out for him in the burning heat, causing it to bulge and sweat. As the cat came to eat it, the boy grabbed the cat by its tail and brought it inside the shed with him. The cat became his friend, and he didn't even realize that the neighbors might have been missing it.

  It wasn't until weeks later when the neighbor was looking for the cat, and his mother came inside the shed and found it with him. The boy was feeding it some of his food, while the cat kept him company. At first, he had thought that his mother would start to yell at him, but she didn't. Instead, she bent down, grabbed the cat in her arms, then left without even a word. It wasn't until the next day that his punishment came for stealing the cat.

  The boy was still asleep when he heard the footsteps outside the shed, and then the door being forcefully pulled open. Barely had he opened his eyes on this Saturday morning before someone grabbed his arm and pulled him off the mattress and onto the floor, then dragged him outside. The boy had gotten pretty tall over the past year and was big for his age, but his momma could still give him a proper beating if she wanted to.

  But that was not her intention on this crisp winter morning. She wanted to punish him, yes, and he knew she would as soon as he spotted the dead cat lying in the grass.

  "Why did you take the cat?" his momma asked. "What were you going to do with it?"

  When he didn't answer, she slapped him across the head, hard, and he screamed.

  "It…I just wanted company. I feel so alone when I am out here when I come home from school," he yelled to make her stop hitting him. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone; I’m sorry."

  H
is mother looked at him, then tilted her head. She took in a deep breath.

  "What were you going to do with it, huh? Something filthy, am I right?"

  "No! No! I wasn't…I mean…"

  But it didn't matter what he said. His mother had made up her mind. She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him across the yard till they reached the enclosure, then she stopped. The boy stared at Victoria and Hector, then began to whimper.

  "No, Momma. Please…no."

  His momma answered with a smile, then grabbed the ax that was leaned up against the fence but hadn't been used since he and his dad built it.

  "Ple-e-a-s-e…please…Momma!"

  "Watch, boy. You hear me? Watch."

  His momma then walked inside and grabbed Victoria first by the throat. The chicken squealed and cried out, trying to wiggle itself loose, but his momma held it tightly around its neck, then carried it outside, placed the chicken on the tiles, lifted the ax, and as the boy screamed, she chopped its head off. The boy stared at the head as it rolled across the tiles and the blood spurted out from what was left of it in his momma's hand.

  His momma smiled. "There. Now, hand me the second one."

  He shook his head. "No, Momma, no, please…don't…please."

  "Go, boy. NOW!"

  Shaking heavily, the boy walked inside, crying his heart out. He reached down and grabbed Hector in his hands and carried him out to his mother. The bird squirmed and squealed, sounding to the boy like it was crying for help, but his mother grabbed it mercilessly and chopped its head off.

  The boy screamed as Hector's head landed next to Victoria's. He fell to his knees, crying.

  That night, the boy was allowed to eat inside the house for the first—and last time—in many years. He sat at the table, and his mother looked at him, watching his every move, and made sure he swallowed every last bite of his chicken soup.

  Chapter 53