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The Mayhem Children (A Project Specter Mystery Book 1)

Page 3

by Paul Seiple


  Terrence Simms paused the press conference when Kim Strode walked into the detective lounge.

  “She’s at it already?” Kim asked.

  “It’s election year,” Terrence said, pouring coffee. “Any news on Lloyd?”

  Terrence handed Kim a cup of coffee.

  “He’s stable. Being held for a seventy-two-hour psych eval. But we can still talk to him,” Kim said.

  Kim eyed the television. Judith Richards was paused in mid-swing; surely she was about to strike the podium once again in a win for justice. Kim rolled her eyes and pressed the power button on the remote, sending the screen to black. “She has to feed while the meat’s still warm, doesn’t she? I mean, she hasn’t even spoken with us yet.”

  “Well, he did murder his family,” Terrence said.

  “But why? She’s already putting the needle in his arm.”

  “Is everything all right, Kim?” Terrence asked.

  Kim pulled Sam’s journal from her blazer pocket. “I found this last night.” She tossed it at Terrence. “It’s my dad’s notes on The Silent Six.”

  Terrence flipped through the book. “Anything in here that could pertain to Lloyd’s case?”

  “Turn to the section on Jimmy Lloyd.”

  Terrence pulled the tips of the pages back until he came to one labeled J. LLOYD. “Well, your father was definitely organized.”

  “Oddly enough, he still is. Just read.”

  October 1, 1977

  Hayes was sentenced to death today. As he was led out of the courtroom, several of the parents confronted him. Jimmy’s father, Tommy, punched Hayes in the mouth, breaking his tooth. Hayes spit the tooth on the floor and laughed as blood ran down his chin. He chanted something as he was carried away.

  “So Lloyd has exhibited violence in the past?”

  “Turn the page,” Kim said.

  I didn’t get the entire chant, but I caught enough.

  Terrence started to read the chant aloud.

  “No, don’t say it,” Kim said. “Don’t read it; just skip to the next part.”

  Through research, I found it to be a death spell, which is said to make a tragedy repeat itself.

  Terrence closed the book. “You think a spell caused Lloyd to kill his family?”

  “A wise man once told me, ‘I believe there are things we cannot explain.’”

  Terrence smiled and sipped his coffee. “So are we really going to go with the theory that the devil made Lloyd do it?”

  “Hayes was into some heavy stuff. I’m not sure what to think at the moment, but you said it yesterday. That man in the interrogation room did not want to kill his family,” Kim said.

  The door to the lounge opened, interrupting the conversation. A uniformed officer peeked her head through the door. “Richards is here to see you guys.”

  Kim smirked and sat her coffee down.

  “Remember, it’s election year,” Terrence said.

  Judith Margaret Richards sat impatiently waiting in the conference room. She tapped her heels against the linoleum floor and drummed against the wooden table with a pen. She blew her dark hair from her face and looked at her watch.

  Richards had a reputation for being all business. After graduating law school, she spent ten years working for the district attorney’s office. For the last eight years, she had been the district attorney of Wake County. In that time, she never lost a case.

  “Sorry for keeping you waiting,” Terrence said, sitting opposite of Judith.

  Kim took a seat beside Terrence.

  “I don’t have long,” Judith said. “This is cut and dry, right? I plan to seek death.”

  “We’ve just started the investigation,” Terrence said.

  “That’s fine. I know you have to do your job, but Lloyd copped to the murders.”

  “It’s not that cut and dry, as you put it,” Kim said. “We are not sure Lloyd was sane at the time of the killings.”

  “Sane or not, the man murdered his entire family. And let’s get one thing straight, Miss Strode, shooting your family isn’t the face of sanity.” Judith stopped tapping her pen on the table. “Mooresville doesn’t see crimes like this. The national news will be all over this. Those sensationalized crime shows will want a part of it. This is our opportunity to set an example for anyone watching that we will not tolerate violence in this peaceful community.”

  “Let’s get real,” Terrence said. “This is your opportunity for anyone watching to see you in action...during an election year.”

  Judith smiled and put the pen down. “It’s a shame you feel I have ulterior motives, Mr. Simms. Fighting crime is my number one objective. If it’s not yours, I suggest you seek another line of work.”

  “We are determined to see that justice is served,” Kim said in an attempt to defuse the time bomb counting down with each quiver of Terrence’s lips.

  “That’s wonderful, Miss Strode. I’m glad to see we are on the same page,” Judith said. “Let’s not draw this tragedy out any longer than is needed. Now, if you will excuse me, I have another meeting.”

  Judith tapped Terrence on the shoulder as she walked out of the room.

  “Thanks for that,” Terrence said, getting into the sedan. “I almost said something I would regret.”

  Kim smiled. “Yeah, the twitch in your lip warned me that you were seconds away from telling her to go fuck herself.”

  “Well, I probably wouldn’t have said that, but it would have been pretty close. So do we go see Lloyd or hit up the crime scene?”

  “This is going to sound weird, but I think we should head to Charlotte. When I was researching that spell, I found an author there who’s supposedly a leading authority on witchcraft.”

  “You really think Hayes did this from the grave?” Terrence shook his head. “You know how crazy that sounds, right?”

  Before Kim could answer, the radio in the sedan summoned them to a possible breaking and entering on Cyphers Court.

  “Saved by the bell,” Terrence said, speeding out of the parking lot and onto Fifth.

  “I know it sounds crazy, but my gut tells me there’s more to this than just a guy gunning down his family.”

  “We’ll go after we check this out,” Terrence said.

  Cyphers Court was only three blocks from the precinct, less than five minutes. A patrol car was parked in front of a two-story brick house. A man and woman stood in the front yard talking to two uniformed officers while two children ran around the yard chasing a German shepherd. Terrence parked the sedan behind the patrol car.

  “We just moved in last night,” the woman said. “I woke up this morning and the jewelry was gone.”

  One of the officers spotted Terrence and Kim. “Mr. and Mrs. Tate, these are detectives Simms and Strode.”

  Terrence extended his hand to Mr. Tate. “Call me Terrence.”

  “Ben. And this is my wife, Norma.”

  Terrence nodded.

  “Tell us what’s going on,” Kim said.

  “Well, Detective Strode...”

  “Kim.”

  “I was telling the officers, we finished moving in last night, and when we woke up this morning, all of my jewelry was missing,” Norma said.

  “Are you sure it’s just not misplaced?” Kim asked.

  “Pamela said this was the safest neighborhood in town,” Ben said. “She said the house was in great condition. In less than one day, we’ve been robbed, and there’s goddamn squirrels in the attic.”

  Ben became visibly agitated. Norma stroked his arm.

  “Who’s Pamela?” Terrence asked.

  “A lying bitch, that’s who she is,” Ben said.

  Norma pressed her cheek against Ben’s arm. “Calm down, honey. Pamela is our real estate agent.” She turned to Kim. “And to answer your question, no, it’s not misplaced. The box is there, the jewelry isn’t.”

  “Maybe Sara’s friend took it,” a little boy said, trying to pry a rubber ball from the German shepherd’s mouth.

/>   “Now is not the time for games, Charlie,” Ben said. “An imaginary friend didn’t steal the damn jewelry.”

  Norma let out a deep breath. “Sara is our daughter.” She pointed to the little girl writing on the sidewalk with chalk. “She’s lonely and didn’t want to move. She made up a friend yesterday. And that’s Charlie, our son.”

  “Lovely kids,” Kim said. “Do you mind if we take a look around inside?”

  “Not at all. The jewelry box is on the dresser in the master bedroom. I haven’t touched it,” Norma said. “But if it’s OK with you, I’ll just stay out here with Ben. He needs to get some fresh air.”

  “Doesn’t look like anyone forced their way through the front door. Think the little girl is playing a prank?” Terrence asked, stepping through the doorway into a huge room. The furniture was still covered in moving blankets. Boxes lined the wood-paneled walls.

  Kim looked back to make sure the Tates were out of range. “There’s something else Pamela Kyles didn’t tell them.” She paused and looked over her shoulder again. “The Challis family used to live here.”

  Terrence stopped and faced Kim. “Jessica Challis?”

  “She’s the reason they caught Hayes,” Kim said.

  “OK, this just officially got weird.”

  Kim walked by Terrence and headed up the stairs. The master bedroom was the first room on the left. A small burgundy box trimmed in gold sat on top of a dresser. The open lid rested against the wall. A shuffling from above stopped Kim in her tracks as she entered the room.

  “Hear that?” Kim asked.

  “Must be the squirrels,” Terrence said, passing by her.

  The noise stopped when Terrence walked into the room. He made his way to the jewelry box and laughed.

  “What is it?” Kim asked.

  “Take a look.”

  A diamond bracelet glistened atop a pile of gold chains and rings. The crushed velvet floor of the box was barely visible.

  “Maybe the little girl played dress up,” Terrence said.

  The giggle of a child filled the room and escaped as if it were running down the hall.

  “Did you hear that?” Kim asked.

  “Hear what?”

  “A kid laughing,” Kim said.

  “Probably one of the Tate kids,” Terrence said.

  Kim looked out the window. Both kids were in the yard playing with the dog. Kim’s flesh started to crawl. The laughter sounded similar to what she heard in her house. She tried to shake the fear gripping her. “Probably so,” she said.

  “Well, looks like we’ve solved this one,” Terrence said. “Shall we go tell the Tates the good news?” He closed the jewelry box and tucked it under his arm.

  Kim nodded, feeling relieved to be leaving the house. She took the stairs, two at a time until she was outside. Terrence wasn’t far behind. He carried the box of jewelry.

  “Good news,” Terrence said. “Looks like the jewelry returned.”

  Norma took the box and ran her fingers through the chains. “How is this possible?”

  “Maybe your little girl was playing dress up,” Terrence said.

  “I swear to God, if one of you kids took this jewelry and wasted these cops’ time, you’re going to get a spanking,” Ben said.

  “Calm down, Mr. Tate. Let’s just be happy no one broke into your house,” Terrence said.

  Ben’s raised tone brought Kim out of the haze of fear that surrounded her. She tapped Norma on the shoulder. “Can I talk to you a minute?”

  Norma nodded.

  “Your husband...is everything OK with you?” Kim asked.

  “He’s just stressed because of the move. He would never lay a hand on me or the kids.”

  Kim handed a card to Norma. “This has all of my info. Do not hesitate to call me.”

  “Come on, Norma. We’ve wasted enough of their time,” Ben said.

  “If you need anything, call me,” Kim said.

  Norma smiled and clutched the jewelry box to her chest. She mouthed the words “thank you” and walked back to her husband.

  Terrence and the two officers were standing next to the patrol car talking when Kim stopped to say bye to Sara, who was still drawing on the sidewalk.

  “What’cha drawing?” Kim asked.

  Sara put the chalk down and stepped away from her art. Kim read the words. “Mayhem is coming.”

  Kim lowered herself to her knees so that she would be eye level with Sara.

  “What does that mean, honey?” Kim asked.

  “I don’t know,” Sara said.

  “Why did you write it?” Kim motioned for Terrence.

  “Jess told me to.”

  “Who’s Jess?” Kim asked as Terrence leaned over her shoulder.

  “She was my friend. But I told her not to take Mommy’s jewelry. She might be mad at me.”

  “Where’s Jess now?” Kim asked.

  Terrence bent further over and took a picture of the sidewalk with his phone. He didn’t see Sara pointing to an upstairs window. Kim’s eyes followed the little girl’s finger.

  “There,” Sara said.

  A sudden flash lit up the window, causing Kim to blink. When she opened her eyes, there was fine mist on the glass, giving a frosted look. A small hand wiped a streak through the fog, causing the rest to evaporate.

  “Terry, did you see that?” Kim asked.

  “See what?” Terrence put his phone back in his pocket.

  “The window. Someone was there.”

  Terrence scanned the yard. Charlie was trying wrestle the ball away from the dog. Ben and Norma Tate were arguing, at a whisper, on the porch. Everyone who lived at 145 Cyphers Court was accounted for.

  “Are you sure?” Terrence asked.

  “I saw her too,” Sara said, taking Kim’s hand. “She’s mad.”

  “I don’t feel right leaving them there, Terry,” Kim said.

  “There’s not much we can do, Kim. I’m with you. The guy looked like he could come unhinged at any moment. But he did just move to a new city and his house isn’t exactly what he was promised. It’s probably just stress. The wife and kids didn’t seem to be afraid of him.”

  “Something’s not right,” Kim said.

  “We can’t really stay without cause,” Terrence said.

  “I know.” Kim locked eyes with Norma on the porch. “If anything happens, call me right away.”

  Terrence pulled the sedan into a parking lot connected to a rundown shopping center. There was only one other car in the lot. Most of the storefronts were boarded up and had outlines in the facade where signs used to be. Of the few remaining signs, only one had all of the letters intact. THE MUSEUM OF THE UNEXPLAINED.

  Terrence parked in front of two antique wooden doors with semi-oval stained-glass windows. The door handles resembled Celtic crosses.

  “I asked Myers to keep an eye on the house,” Terrence said, killing the engine.

  “I heard the same laughter last night at my house,” Kim said.

  “What?”

  “The giggling in the Tate’s house. I think I heard it last night at my house,” Kim said.

  “Maybe this guy will have some answers,” Terrence said.

  Kim sat in the car while Terrence inspected the doors. She tried to rationalize what was happening. Growing up a skeptic, she never believed in ghosts, the afterlife, or God, for that matter. But there was no denying what she heard.

  Terrence pulled on the doors. They were locked. He looked through a window before turning around to say, “Looks closed.”

  There was a click, startling Terrence, who did a one-eighty and faced the door. It was enough to break the tension that hugged Kim. She laughed as one of the doors opened slightly.

  “Welcome to Whitechapel,” a man’s voice resonated through two tiny speakers above the door.

  Kim got out of the car as Terrence poked his head through the door. “Hello?”

  “In the back, gimme one sec.”

  The front room resembled
an unkempt attic. Dust covered acrylic display cases like a fine snow. The smell of mothballs hung in the air like a dense fog. Terrence coughed before covering his mouth with his jacket. Kim brushed away specks of dust that hid the nameplate on a case holding a rudimentary knife.

  KNIFE USED IN HUMAN SACRIFICES: HIMALAYAS Circa 1950

  Terrence stopped at a wooden chair surrounded by mesh netting.

  DEATH CHAIR

  “I wouldn’t sit in that if I were you.”

  A man with salt and pepper hair and a matching goatee appeared from a backroom. He was wearing a white apron over a gray suit.

  “That chair was cursed by Troy Kaplin.”

  “The serial killer?” Kim asked.

  “The one and only. Legend has it that during last rites, Kaplan cursed the chair the priest was sitting in. A few hours later, the priest was electrocuted by faulty wiring in his chapel. And yes, Kaplin was electrocuted. Two other people died in freak electrical accidents after sitting in that chair.”

  “So why do you have it?” Terrence asked.

  The man peeled off a pair of rubber gloves and tossed them in trash. “So no one else dies.” He smiled and reached forward to shake Terrence’s hand. “Donald McDowell. But call me Don.”

  Instead of shaking Don’s hand, Terrence flashed his badge.

  “Detective Terrence Simms and that’s Detective Kim Strode with the Mooresville PD.”

  Don put on a pair of black horned-rimmed glasses. “Mooresville? This is a little out of your jurisdiction, isn’t it?” He noticed Kim eyeing a burnt Ouija board encased in glass. “That spirit board is said to summon the demon Lilith.”

  “Seriously, why do you have these creepy things?” Terrence asked.

  “Everything in here has caused grief for someone. I take it upon myself to make sure these things never hurt anyone again,” Don said.

  “But you display them like trophies,” Kim said.

 

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