A Kiss With Death

by Frances Hoelsema

  “I can take it from here,” she said, allowing the other person to leave. She carefully went through the house, cleaning anything that had been touched. She put things back where they belonged and made sure there was no evidence of their intrusion. Afterward, she made out two cards: number six and number seven. Sealing them with a kiss was sweet.

  Today’s killings had a couple of firsts. It was her first female victim, and it was the first time she killed two people in one day at practically the same time. This was empowering. She felt in control. She felt like she could conquer the world!

  She liked who she was becoming. It was all very addicting, and she had no desire to return to a normal life. Which reminded her, she needed to get more poison if she was going to keep going. But that shouldn’t be a problem.

  What was a problem, though, was that she probably wouldn’t be able to keep killing. Not because she didn’t want to. She already realized she did. But it was because she started all of this in the first place to accomplish one goal, and that goal was very close to being reached. Once it was obtained, there’d be no reason to kill. And, more importantly, there would be no one to take the blame. And getting caught was not something she was about to let happen.

  CHAPTER 23

  C

  assie Seaver parked her clunker of a car and got out, being sure to grab her bag. Pulling her sweater back down, she stood before the Capstone University library. The flag on the pole in front of the doors was waving in the wind. The same breeze rushed through her hair, causing a strand to twirl by her ear. There were two students walking up the steps, holding hands and giggling. No one else was in sight. She hoped there wouldn’t be a lot of people inside either.

  With the backpack secured over her shoulder, Cassie jogged up to the main doors. She had just under an hour before her next class would start. Plenty of time to meet with Ms. Keaton. Assuming she showed up on time. Or even at all. Everything that had been going on lately could not be easy to deal with.

  There was a small table available in view of the library’s entrance. This would be a good spot to sit and wait for Ms. Keaton to arrive. Cassie put her bag down on the top and plumped her body into a seat. She got a book out to give the idea she was staying busy, yet kept looking up toward the doors.

  She couldn’t place it, but the vibe was off. It was quiet, but not the same kind of quiet she had grown accustomed to since starting the school. There were the sounds of clicking on the keyboards that almost annoyed her. Whispers from one person to another could be overheard. Cassie had looked around to see where they were coming from, but the source was never determined. A few people that had walked by her had a different look in their eye. Of what? She didn’t know. Even one of the librarians at the checkout counter was dabbing her eye now and then. Was she just being crazy? Imagining everything? Or was something going on? Something she had no clue about? A shiver raced down her spine as if something eerie or perhaps even woeful had happened.

  The front doors opened again. A woman wearing a scarf around her head and big black glasses came in. Cassie kept her eyes on the woman as she made her way closer and closer to where she was sitting. Finally, the woman stopped in front of her, removing her glasses.

  “Ms. Keaton?” How could she not have known that’s who it was?

  Taking a seat, Laura said, “Yeah, it’s me.”

  Cassie’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Why all the stuff?” Her pointer finger made a circle in the air around Laura’s face.

  “I didn’t want to draw attention to myself.”

  “You don’t think that what you’re wearing would?”

  Laura’s one hand fell to the table. “I don’t know.”

  Cassie could tell she was on edge.

  “So, you said you wanted to talk with me about a few things?” Laura asked.

  A heavyset man walked by their table, joining someone else. Cassie saw him pointing her way, whispering. The two men walked off. She pushed the sight aside.

  “Um, yeah, well, I guess, first of all, I just wanted to know what was all going on. I mean, people are saying you’re guilty, but I don’t get it.”

  Laura leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. “What have you all heard?”

  “Well, that you killed Parker, Mr. Peterson, and I guess a couple others. But I don’t understand why they think it’s you. What evidence do they have?”

  The librarian who had before appeared to be crying was now giving Cassie a dirty look. She tried ignoring it, looking back at Ms. Keaton while she responded.

  “Technically, they don’t have any evidence. Not yet anyway. Anytime now, though, they’ll have their warrant and can search my place.”

  Cassie froze a moment. “But they won’t find any evidence, will they?”

  Laura shrugged. “Who knows.”

  Cassie leaned in, whispering, “Wait, are you saying you did kill these men?”

  “NO!” Laura suddenly realized where she was. She looked around, her eyes apologizing for the outburst. More quietly, she added, “I’m just saying I don’t know what they’re even looking for, so I have no idea. I mean, I know I’m not a murderer, but every single one of these men that have died are linked to me one way or another, and –”

  “But that doesn’t mean someone is –”

  “And,” Laura interrupted, “I have no alibi for any of them.”

  Cassie’s face showed defeat. “Oh.”

  “Plus, apparently they have footage and I fit the mold of what the killer looks like.”

  Cassie’s shoulders and face slumped even further. She mouthed the word ‘wow’.

  “So, as you can see, to the cops and everyone else, I’m really guilty.”

  “Well, I don’t believe it. There must be something that proves your innocence. Right?”

  Laura threw her hands in the air. “Maybe. But I don’t know what it would be.”

  A couple of students walked toward the library’s entrance. As they passed their table, the students whispered something. Both heard Laura’s name.

  Laura sighed. Cassie looked at her apologetically.

  “Look, I don’t know why else you wanted to meet with me, but I should go.” Laura started securing the scarf around her face. “You need to find yourself another tutor, and just forget about me all together.”

  “Forget about you? I can’t do that when you’re my favorite teacher, and, let’s not forget, my aunt’s best friend!”

  Putting the sunglasses over her eyes, Laura said, “I don’t care. It’s for your own good. Do you hear me? Stay away!”

  Cassie cocked her head to the side as Laura got up and walked off. Then she noticed there were others watching Ms. Keaton, no doubt saying things about her. They’d turn their heads and look at Cassie, their eyes speaking confusion, distrust, even hatred.

  Taking a deep breath, Cassie stood up and grabbed her bag. She had enough of the jeering. It was time to figure out what was going on. There was no way it was all because rumor had it Ms. Keaton was a murderer. Then again, when she thought that through, that probably was the reason. Still, she had to ask someone.

  She walked up to the checkout and cleared her throat. The librarian behind it was taller, thin, and had short salt-and-pepper-hair. She reminded Cassie of an evil stepmother on one of the princess movies she had watched as a young girl.

  Looking at her, the older woman said, “Yes?”

  “Excuse me, but could you tell me what is going on? Why all the whispering? All the stares? The judgement?”

  “That was Professor Keaton, correct?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  The librarian’s head leaned to one side. “Have you not heard? She’s guilty for killing seven people!”

  Cassie rolled her eyes. Seven? Last she heard, there were five. It sounded like things were getting blown out of proportion. “You mean five?”

  “No, seven. The dean, God rest his soul, and his wife were found earlier this morning.” She dabbed away the droplets at the corn
ers of her eyes.

  “The dean?” Cassie’s voice raised an octave.

  The woman sniffed, nodding her head.

  At first, Cassie didn’t know what to say or do. But then her senses came back. Her fists rolled up into balls. “But still, how can you say Ms. Keaton is guilty? She would never do such a thing. Shame on you for believing such lies.” One fist pounded on the countertop.

  “Excuse me? If the cops think she’s guilty, then so do I. I just can’t believe they haven’t arrested her yet.”

  “You’re horrible! Have you ever thought maybe they haven’t arrested –”

  The evil stepmother librarian glared down at her. “If I were you, young lady, I would stay far away from Ms. Keaton. You wouldn’t want to end up dead.”

  Cassie scowled at her. She couldn’t take it anymore. She stormed off, exiting the building. There were more people standing around now, and a reporter was off to the side, doing her piece.

  She was supposed to go to class, but for the first time in her college career, she decided to skip it. Nothing was figured out yet, but one way or another, Cassie was bound and determined to prove Laura’s innocence. Even if it meant going against her favorite teacher’s orders.

  * * *

  The moment Laura walked out of the library, a reporter had begun her news story. She did her best to stay out of the camera’s view because the last thing she needed was to be on TV. Though to the side and getting farther and farther from the action, she still overheard something that made her stop dead in her tracks.

  “Mr. Thomas Hilton, Dean of Capstone University, was found dead in his home early this…”

  Mr. Hilton is dead? Laura stood still for a brief moment. How could that be? Why was this happening? Perhaps the most important question she contemplated was, who could be doing such things?

  The next thing she knew, the reporter was calling her over, wanting to interview her. That would not be a good idea. She ran off, as far away as she could get.

  “Ma’am? Ma’am?” the reporter shouted.

  Still, she ran.

  As more time passed, Laura discovered the fact she should have never come in the first place. She should have stayed home where she didn’t have to witness people judging her, thinking she was some kind of evil murderer.

  Safely in her car, she saw the reporter found someone else to talk with. She was relieved to have escaped, but the news of the dean’s death still hung heavy on her heart. He was a good man. The fact he was going to give the position to Chris over her did not change her thinking on that. She never would have wished him dead.

  But no one would believe her if she said what she felt. And, once again, she had no proof she was innocent. No one was with her to say she was at home all last night.

  Driving down the road, she picked up her phone to call her boyfriend, Connor. It’s been days since she’s heard from him. It bothered her that he never called her back. She was certain he would have seen that she called numerous times. Never had it been so hard to get ahold of him, no matter where his business trips took him.

  The phone rang and rang. A beep rang out, followed by his voicemail message. She wished she could strangle something, but even that wouldn’t help her anger. What is he up to? Why can’t I reach him?

  Something bad was going to happen today. Laura could feel it. Deep in her bones, she knew that her life was about to be over. Maybe it was because of all the people pointing, whispering, and taunting. Or perhaps it was because there was yet another death of someone linked to her. It could even be because she knew Detective Kojak was going to come search her home at any moment. Whatever it was, the dismal outlook was gnawing at her gut. She started shaking, and her muscles began to tense up.

  I’ve got to talk with someone! Laura tried calling her friend, Marissa. She felt bad because she knew she would be busy with a client, but, at this point, she didn’t know who else to reach out to.

  Marissa answered. Laura could not get in a full sentence. She was jittery, mumbling, and constantly taking in a deep breath to relax. “Marissa, I…another death…don’t know…scared…any time now –”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, Laura. What’s going on? You’re either breaking up or –”

  “Not breaking up!” She was a bit harsh, but she couldn’t contain her emotions any longer. “I said there’s another death! They’re coming for me; I just know it! I don’t know what to do.” Laura started sobbing hysterically.

  “Calm down before you hyperventilate. Where are you?”

  Laura took in a deep breath. “I just left the school’s library, from meeting with Cassie.”

  “Okay. So, are you driving then?”

  She nodded her head quickly, squeaking out a ‘yes’ when she gathered the strength.

  “Where are you going?” her friend asked.

  “I have nowhere to go but home. But I have this bad feeling I shouldn’t be there either.” She gasped again.

  Laura heard Marissa shuffling some papers.

  Her friend finally said, “Okay. Go home and stay there. I’m coming over. I can be there within a half hour.”

  “But what about your clients? Don’t you –”

  “It’s okay, Laura. Don’t worry about them. I’ll figure something out.”

  Her right arm shook as she held the steering wheel. “Now I feel bad. Please don’t feel like you have to come over. I’d hate for you to get involved in this. I just wanted to talk.”

  “I said, don’t worry! Look, I’m your friend. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

  Fresh tears poured down her cheeks, but at least this time it was due to being eternally grateful. “You’re the best. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “I’ll see you shortly, okay?”

  “Okay.” She sniffed.

  Laura tried staying calm the rest of the way home, even if it meant gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles were white enough to be pure bone. She practiced her breathing exercises and tried keeping her mind busy.

  The one thing she kept thinking about was, what would she do without Marissa?

  CHAPTER 24

  H

  e had made it all the way back to his office before realizing what he had done. Detective Randy Kojak lifted his arms to his head, ready to straighten his hat. Only his hat wasn’t there. He had forgotten that he briefly took it off at the victims’ house. Normally he didn’t wear hats at all. Just on days he felt were special. Like today.

  If it were any old hat, he’d leave it. But this hat was different. It was the hat his wife, Tina, purchased for him last year. The one that had a designer name and cost way more than they could afford. She cashed in a bottle of change that she had been saving since her twenties just to get it. Now he’d have to go all the way back to the crime scene to retrieve it.

  Before leaving the building, he made sure everyone was aware that he was to be called immediately when the search warrant for Laura Keaton was issued, which would be any time now. He even rescheduled everything he had in mind to do today, instead planning on being at her house. This was the day. He could feel it!

  While he drove, his phone was in his hand. Any minute he should get the call. As he exited the car once he reached his destination, his phone was in his hand. It should ring anytime now. In fact, the phone would be glued to his hand until the words he wanted to hear were said.

  Yellow caution tape outlined the perimeter of the yard. More was seen at the entrance of the home. Some of the crime scene investigators were still inside as well.

  If Detective Kojak was honest with himself, this was the first murder that struck a chord with him. He had come to know Mr. Hilton quite well, having had numerous conversations recently surrounding the murders. A part of him kicked himself for not seeing it coming. The dean was a very likely target of Laura Keaton. He should have warned him to be careful.

  Making his way through the house, in the maze of boxes that lay throughout the living room, he kept his eyes open for his h
at. He was pretty sure he set it down in the kitchen, so that was where he was headed, but it was possible the hat could be elsewhere. The whole time, his phone was right in his hand.

  “Looking for this?” A young man of not quite thirty asked. In his hands was the hat.

  “Ah, yes,” the detective half-smiled, looking at his beloved present. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” The man walked by him and out the door.

  He positioned the hat on his head and followed the guy out the door. Something crunched under his foot. Stopping, he looked down to see what it was. It was a pen. He squatted, picking it up. The label had a doctor’s name on it: Garrett Richards, MD. He had never heard of him.

  Not thinking twice about it, the detective tossed the now broken pen into one of the moving boxes. He continued to work his way through the maze until he reached the openness of the outdoors.

  Just before he reached his vehicle, a familiar ring resounded from his phone. He knew exactly who it was and was almost certain he knew what would be said.

  “Detective Kojak,” he answered. Even though every part of him wanted to cut to the chase without a proper greeting, he was always professional.

  “We’ve got it, the search warrant.”

  Nothing had sounded sweeter.

  “Great. I’m headed to Ms. Keaton’s place now. Meet me there with backup. I don’t think she’ll do anything, but you never know. We can’t risk her running or, worse, fighting.”

  “Will do. We’ll head out now.”

  “Thank you.”

  The detective hung up. He felt like whistling. The tune was nothing particular, but went along with his man-on-a-mission objective.