by Zena Jae
“Oh my God!” Piper’s eyes went wide and her hand covered her mouth.
“What is it?” He sensed her reaction wasn’t just that of hearing the news—she knew something.
“There was a troll on the forums who was saying bizarre things and mentioned something about her that I didn’t know what to make of at the time.”
“What did he say?”
“Something about her sleeping soundly and never waking up. And then something about her being in his first chapter.”
“Do you still have the post up on your forum?”
“No, I deleted everything they wrote. It was disturbing and I didn’t want any more people reading them.” Her eyebrows lifted as if remembering something. “Oh, wait. I might be able to retrieve them if the deleted posts go into an admin archived folder. I can check, anyway.”
Marcus followed her to the study. It was her father’s previously, but she now used his desk to type on her laptop. His leather chair was comfortable for long periods of writing, and the study had a nice view of the outdoor scenery through the French doors leading out to a patio and garden. She’d often sit, staring out into the peacefulness of the mountains and lake while contemplating her next scene.
Marcus stood behind her as Piper brought her laptop out of sleep mode. She was right and was able to retrieve the deleted posts.
“What a demented son of a bitch,” Marcus said after reading the dialog.
“Do you think they’re serious?”
“I hope not, but the fact that Kerri is missing is worrisome.”
Piper clicked on the thread to see if Will signed up again under a new username and made any posts. He did.
WKU: ‘Banning me won’t do any good. I can make anonymous signups all day.’
Joe: ‘Nobody wants you here. Go away.’
Gina: ‘Joe, don’t respond to him and let Piper take care of it. Without the attention, he’ll get bored and disappear. Okay, I’m outta here myself. Piper, PM me when this creep is gone and I’ll come back.’
WKU: ‘Aren’t you curious about Kerri?’
The last post was two hours ago. As she was about to ban the troll’s new username, Marcus said, “Wait, don’t ban him. Can you make this particular topic folder private? Remove all the other members and leave only him and you. We need him to keep talking so we can find out what happened to Kerri.”
“Great idea.” She did just as he suggested. While she was at it, she also private messaged the group to let them know what she did. They’d be curious why she blocked them from accessing the thread.
“All done,” she said. “What should we do next?”
“Let’s get him to tell us more about Kerri.”
She typed...
Piper: ‘Of course I’m curious. What about Kerri?’
“If he’s not online, it may take a while. You’re going to want to sit.”
Marcus grabbed the small chair against the wall and brought it over to sit next to her. He had it turned backwards so he could straddle the seat, resting his arms over the chair’s back.
She saw an email come in. Figuring it was a notification of a post, she refreshed the screen.
WKU: ‘As we writers know, it’s better to show than tell. I have attached a video. When you witness what Kerri went through—her fear, the horror in her eyes when she knew what her fate would be, her torturous pain—you will then be able to write a convincing murder scene such as this.’
Piper eyes stared at the embedded video that awaited her click. She hesitated and then turned to look at Marcus.
“If you prefer not to watch, it’s understandable,” he told her. “But I’m going to have to play it with the sound on in case I can make out anything in the background, so you might want to leave the room.”
“I’ll be okay. I should see it in case I can help.”
He didn’t verbally respond; he simply gave her a single nod.
Piper’s eyes fixated back on her laptop’s screen. Her hand trembled as she moved her pointer over the red play arrow.
Click.
Chapter 4
In all her years working with her family in the P.I. business, Piper had never witnessed any gruesome violence. Their cases consisted of surveillances, background checks, finding birth parents and siblings, obtaining evidence on cheating spouses, and the like. Although her father had been a cop prior to opening his P.I. agency, he never took on any dangerous cases, especially after his children joined on. And anyway, Rosiville wasn’t exactly bustling with crime—it was a small town with a low crime rate—especially in the realm of violent ones.
Sure, there was the occasional spousal abuse, suicide, barroom brawl—but in her lifetime, never a ghastly murder, even with being only an hour’s drive away from the city of Maylor (population 32,600).
Their quaint town was growing, however. Within the last two years, Rosiville added twenty-two new residents to their population. With its excellent fishing on their beautiful lakes and rivers, plus a small winery, and fresh, wholesome organic veggies and fruits from local growers—it was the perfect retirement or change of scenery from city life.
While working as a P.I., Piper did carry a gun, mainly because her father insisted on it. He said no matter how docile the case may seem, anything could happen, and it was better to be safe than sorry. She was thankful she never had to use it.
So what she now witnessed on the video, she had only ever seen in movies or on TV. Gore and violence didn’t bother her as long as she knew it was an act, but witnessing a snuff film and especially one where she personally knew the main actor—well, it made the breakfast in her stomach want to regurgitate. Tears stung her eyes as she looked on with horror at Kerri’s torturous last minutes of life.
What psycho was this living amongst them, in their humble rural community, a place where everyone normally felt safe?
A chill ran through her.
“We’ve got a psychopath on our hands,” Marcus said. A chill of his own ran through his body. “I’ll need a copy.”
Piper copied the video onto a DVD while Marcus called in to his station.
She was glad that the other members didn’t view the video. She wished she could erase the visions from her mind. But did she regret watching it?
No.
Like Pandora, her curiosity would always get the better of her and she would’ve clicked on the video at some point no matter what she anticipated, because that was her nature and the nature of the P.I. business. Curiosity was par for the course and she’d study the video to look for clues, no matter how difficult the task would be emotionally.
“You okay?” Marcus asked after hanging up his call. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“Yes.” Her crystal blues gazed sadly into his eyes. “Who in our community could do such a thing?”
Marcus shook his head. “We’re gonna find the bastard,” he said in a voice low and gruff.
“I’m going to help you.”
His eyebrows scrunched in a questioning expression. “You need to take it easy for a while, Piper. There’s no rush to jump into something like this. Take your time to heal.” His eyes gazed at her softly, caringly.
“I’m okay, I can handle it. I promise. I’ve grieved long enough, I’m trying to move on and get my life back in order.” Her face was solemn. “I miss them like crazy, but I can’t wallow in my loss. I might as well have died too, if I let the heartache consume me.”
She placed her hand on his knee. “I need to help you, Marcus. That’s what my parents and Trevor would’ve wanted of me, and that’s what I want to do.” Her voice was soft and touching; it brought goose bumps to his skin.
He trusted her words. She’d never been fragile; he realized that about her ever since they were kids. And although she exuded femininity on the outside—emotionally, she was tough. She might’ve cried for other people, but it took a lot for her to cry for herself. Self-pity just wasn’t her game.
“The killer murdered someone I knew. Sh
e was a friend. I have to help you catch whoever did this.”
There was no point arguing with her, and he really didn’t want to anyway—he knew she was a needed link since the perp was in contact with her. And even if he wasn’t, Marcus could certainly use her help. The Novaks were good at their profession, and Piper’s father taught his children well. From the first day she came on board, Piper took to the job as if it was second nature—solving clues was her gift.
“You better start carrying your gun again,” he told her. “Without your dad or Trevor for backup, you better not go things alone. Call me if you find out anything. Promise me, Piper.”
“I’m not going to call you for every little thing. God knows you’ll be busy enough yourself, but if there’s need for caution with pursuing something, I promise I’ll call you.”
He was satisfied with that. She’s always been sensible—he doubted she’d take unnecessary risks.
“I’ve gotta get the disk to the station and get a team going, but you and I need to establish a plan. Your critique group and your forum will be vital to this investigation.”
“Do you want to come over tonight for dinner? We can talk about it then.”
“Let me see how my meeting goes and the follow-ups I have to do on this case, and I’ll let you know. If I can’t tonight, how about tomorrow?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Piper ejected the disk from her laptop and handed it to Marcus. As they walked to the front door, she touched his arm. He turned to look at her.
“Thanks, Marcus. You’re like my only family now.”
He smiled and his eyes reflected his care for her. “I’ll always be here for you, you know that.”
She looked coyly at him and at that moment, he so wanted to kiss her, but instead, he put a hand on his holster and walked out the door. He cursed himself for feeling so awkward around her at moments like that. He was a grown man for God’s sake, not a teenage boy.
By the time Piper got back to her laptop, another notification awaited her. With only two members now accessing that thread, there was no doubt who it was from.
Sucking in her breath, her pointer hovered over the link.
Click.
Chapter 5
The killer had posted a snippet from his first chapter. It was Kerri’s murder scene from the video. Piper had to admit, the writing style was smooth and the prose, compelling. It certainly wasn’t that of any amateur writer—this killer was experienced or else had a natural talent for the craft.
Below the snippet was another post.
WKU: ‘What? No critique?’
She stared at the words. Should she respond? What should she say?
Piper: ‘Why are you doing this? What did Kerri do to you that you’d want to hurt her—kill her?’
30 seconds later a new post arrived.
WKU: ‘Kerri was a bitch.’
Piper: ‘How would you know that? Did you know her?’
Every question was fishing for clues, hoping the perp would give away a piece of his/her identity.
WKU: ‘Of course I knew her. I’m not a stranger to this town.’
Assuming the murderer was telling the truth, he/she was a member of their community. It gave her a shudder to think they could be someone she’s known her entire life. This person obviously led a double life and played their roles well. Who the hell could be so demented yet hide it from everyone? Surely, some hint of their psychotic behavior would’ve shown itself at some point. Insanity should be easy enough to spot, shouldn’t it?
But then again, there have been many murderers who seemed like upstanding citizens, churchgoers even, and according to their family, friends, neighbors and coworkers—no one ever suspected a thing.
Piper racked her brain to think who might possibly be a suspect, but she just couldn’t envision anybody she knew doing such a heinous crime. Not even Jason Bender, the childhood bully. Amazing how people can change—today he was a respected high school football coach. In his case, Phyllis Morris was responsible for his reformation. She was the sweetest thing, his complete opposite, and when he fell head over heels in love with her, he turned his life around. They married, had kids, and were still a loving couple as far as she knew. Their story was certainly one where the power of love rang true.
Before Piper could type out her next post, the killer posted again.
WKU: ‘I’ll be posting another video and the murder scene from my next chapter tomorrow night, so stay tuned.’
OMG, the perp was going to kill again!
Piper: ‘Please don’t do this! You’ve made your point already. You write a good murder scene, I get it. You have nothing more to prove!’
She hit speed dial #5 to call Marcus.
Pick up, Marcus, pick up. She tapped her finger on the desk and bit down a few times on her bottom lip. Even two rings seemed like forever in her anxiousness.
“Hello?”
There was no greeting this time, instead she rambled, “The killer posted that they’re going to do it again, tomorrow night, they’re going to put up another video.” Her words were like the rapid fire of a machine gun—she didn’t take a breath.
“They live here, Marcus. We might know this killer and not even realize it.”
“Did they say who the next victim was going to be?”
“No.”
He was silent for a moment as if distracted or else thinking what to say next.
“Okay, I gotta get this disk to the station and get this hunt going, but I’ll be over as soon as I can. I’ve already dispatched a team to check out Kerri’s place. If she was kidnapped from her home, the killer might’ve left some clues there.”
“I’m going to warn my critique group and tell them what happened to Kerri.”
“Do you know for a fact the perp’s only going after your critique group?”
“Well, no, but earlier they said something that sounded like a threat. Some of the members took it that way anyway.”
“Yeah, it could’ve been.” He paused for thought. “Okay, you might want to give them a heads-up but I don’t want to start a panic without knowing more. This video could turn out to be a prank, but even if it’s not, we can’t have people going around shooting visitors who drop in on them.”
Starting a panic certainly wouldn’t be good, but not warning people about a murderer in their midst was even worse. The community needed to be on their guard, especially since people here were lax about locking their doors. With an intimate community and a low crime rate, they were very trusting.
“If that video is a hoax, Kerri should win an Oscar for her performance. I honestly don’t believe she was just acting. Do you? I’m sorry, but it looked too real to me. Besides, that’s a serious prank. She’d know the police would get involved, so why would she do it? It just doesn’t sound like her.”
“Publicity stunt, maybe? Did she have a new book about to be published?”
“If it were a publicity stunt, she would’ve said something right after the video was posted, so we wouldn’t freak out and call the police. She wouldn’t continue to let us believe she was brutally murdered. That would be cruel.”
“I agree, but I have to check out all the angles, especially before leaking unsubstantiated info to the public.”
“I understand, but my gut is telling me that this is no hoax. I’ll never forgive myself if the killer strikes again and it’s someone from the group who I could’ve warned.”
“I know, Piper. I’d feel the same. Like I said, just keep it to the group for now until I get back to you. I’ll know more in a few hours.”
“Okay. Talk to you soon.”
After she hung up, she refreshed her screen, but the perp hadn’t posted anything more.
She composed a PM (Private Message) to the five remaining members of the critique group:
‘Guys, I don’t know what’s going on, but the troll uploaded a video. It was of Kerri—she was murdered. I’m not going to go into details, but it looked re
al to me. I showed it to Detective Marcus Peters and although he agreed with me that it looked real, he said there’s a possibility it could be a publicity stunt. They’re going to conduct an investigation, but in the meantime, lock your doors and be careful. Marcus said before we spread this around, to wait for his go ahead. He wants to make sure it’s not a prank before we create a panic. Please reply so I know you got this message. Be safe, everyone!’
She hated to scare them, but if the video was real, they needed to know the truth, keep their guard up, taking every precaution necessary.
Living in a rural area, most had neighbors who were a few acres apart from them. Some, like Piper, were surrounded by woodlands while others, farmland. It would be easy for the perp to snatch their victims without fear of any witnesses—at least the ones who lived alone or those home alone at a time when their family members were out.
Within half an hour, Piper received PMs from four of the group members. Saul hadn’t yet responded. Maybe he was running errands. He was one of the midlist authors who made a living off his books, so he wrote fulltime, at his cabin, in the woods, less than a mile from Piper.
She nibbled on her fingernail, hoping Saul would PM her soon so she’d know he got the message.
Damn, the waiting was driving her crazy so she scrolled through her contacts and rang him.
One ring.
Two rings.
C’mon, Saul.
Three rings.
Four rings.
“I’m obviously up to some mischief and can’t talk right now, so you know what to do.”
Beep.
“Saul, please call me as soon as you get this message. It’s urgent. Thanks.”
She hit the ‘END’ button.
Why was she nervous? Saul was probably okay, right? So why was she getting a bad feeling about it?
She hit #5 on speed dial.
One ring.