HAUNTED: A Jenny Watkins Mystery

by Becky Durfee

  She held up her hand. “Scout’s honor.” She gave him the names of some of the officers she’d helped in the past, and after a quick verification, Officer Miller leaned forward onto his elbows and said, “You really do have insight, don’t you?”

  She nodded. “I do.”

  “What else can you tell me?” The young officer looked at her intently.

  “I know the killer has to be dead, first of all. I saw the vision through his eyes, and I can only receive messages from the deceased. I also know this was completely random, so trying to figure out who may have had it out for Elaina is unnecessary. This was the result of a mentally ill man being on the street without the help he obviously needed. He had an inner voice that convinced him that everyone around him was evil, and if he didn’t kill one of them, they would get him.”

  “Everyone was evil?”

  She closed her eyes and shook her head briefly, holding up the hand that wasn’t bearing the brunt of the baby’s weight. “I know how it sounds, but I assure you, it was very real to him. I saw this incident from his point of view, and he was terrified. I mean, imagine…imagine if you genuinely believed that everyone around you was out to get you. It would be horrifying.”

  Officer Miller folded his arms across his chest and looked up at the ceiling, appearing somewhat irritated. Releasing a breath, he declared, “Do you know how much time we spent looking into Elaina’s personal life? Since a lot of time went by and she was the only victim, we decided she must have been an intended target. We’ve spent the better part of a year trying to determine which person in her life wanted her dead...and you’re telling me it was a guy who picked her out randomly?”

  Jenny remained quiet as he worked through his thoughts.

  Miller took off his glasses, placing them upside down on his lap. He wiped his eyes and then put the glasses back on. “Okay, so if what you are saying is true, do you know how hard it is going to be to figure out who did this? Stranger killings are the most difficult to solve.”

  With a slight nod, Jenny said, “I know.”

  “Although, you say the perpetrator is already dead?”

  Her voice was soft. “He has to be.”

  Miller thought some more before declaring, “I guess that’s good news, but even if it’s true, I’d still love to know who the bastard was. I’ve lost a lot of sleep over this one.”

  Zack chimed in for the first time. “He’s obviously someone who has died within the past year-and-a-half, and I imagine he died at the hospital where Jenny gave birth last week. That’s where she first encountered him; his spirit may be lingering there.”

  The officer looked spooked, but he didn’t say anything.

  Continuing Zack’s sentiment, Jenny added, “The problem is, Sanger Hospital is huge; I’m sure people die there every day. With doctor/patient confidentiality, it probably won’t be easy to get them to disclose which of their deceased patients may have had psychiatric problems.”

  Zack turned to Jenny. “Do you think Kyle could help with that?”

  “Probably,” she replied. “He’s helped with so many things in the past.” She turned to Miller to clue him in. “Kyle is a private investigator I work with; he’s excellent. He might be able to give us some information.”

  “That would be great if he could help out,” Officer Miller said. “I’m not sure I’d be able to get the captain’s blessing on devoting any manpower to investigating that angle considering the information is coming from a psychic, no offense.” The officer fidgeted in his seat before asking, “Do you have any other details you can disclose? Like, where she died? All the evidence suggests the place her body was found was nothing more than a dumpsite.”

  Jenny thought back to her original vision, closing her eyes to recall the details more clearly. “She was in a car. Actually, a truck, based on the size of it. It appears to be a bench seat.” She took her free hand and wrapped it around the wrist that was holding Steve. “She was tied up. Her hands were behind her back, clearly bound because I could see one end of the rope coming from around her body. The rope was blue.”

  “What color was the inside of the truck?”

  “Gray.”

  “Do you know where the truck is parked?”

  Jenny shook her head. “No. I don’t see anything but her and the inside of the truck.” Her voice grew quieter. “Elaina looks terrified.”

  “So she was awake during the attack?”

  “Very much so. At least, during this part of it.”

  The officer let out a loud breath.

  “I can try to make a sketch of the inside of the truck, if you’d like,” Jenny offered.

  “That would be great,” Miller replied as he sat up straighter. His tone reduced to a whisper. “That would be great.” He began to look distant, leading Jenny to wonder what was wrong. She remained quiet, hoping he would disclose whatever was bothering him. He didn’t.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  He nodded, continuing his stare to nowhere. Eventually, he snapped into the present and noted, “Your facts line up—even the ones we didn’t disclose to the public—but there’s one detail that doesn’t make sense.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re saying that it was a random attack, done by a stranger. The only problem is that the body was covered with a sheet when we found it. That gesture is almost always a sign that the killer knew—and cared about—his victim. Psychopaths who kill people they’ve plucked off the street usually have no problem discarding the body like trash and walking away, leaving it exposed to the elements.”

  “I actually might have an explanation for that,” Jenny replied.

  Miller looked at her, inviting her to continue.

  “I think the killer may have been sorry.”

  Chapter 3

  “We might as well take advantage of being here,” Zack said. “Want to check out the downtown area? Maybe see if we can grab something to eat?”

  Jenny sat in the back seat of the car again, preparing herself for the intense pain that came with the baby latching on. Steve eagerly took to what felt like his millionth meal of the day, causing Jenny to wince and suck in a breath for the first few seconds until the stinging sensation eased. Sighing with relief, she replied, “That sounds good to me. Do you know how to get downtown?”

  “No, but I can figure it out while he eats.”

  The couple was quiet while Zack searched on his phone and Jenny entertained the thoughts in her head. Eventually she asked, “Do you think this guy will let me know who he is?”

  “I don’t know,” Zack replied, appearing only half interested in the conversation. His attention seemed to be focused on his phone.

  Undeterred by his apathy, Jenny continued, “If he’s not going to let us know who he is, then what’s the point of even contacting me? Is he just trying to get the police off the backs of the current suspects?” She looked out the window at the promising young students walking by, her heart aching at the thought that Elaina used to be among them. “Even if that is his goal, wouldn’t revealing himself be the best way to do that?”

  “You would think.” Zack clearly wasn’t paying attention; his replies were mechanical.

  She lowered her shoulders with a quick pout, wondering what Elaina would have been doing right now if this man had gotten the proper medical attention.

  “It looks like there are a bunch of little restaurants and shops on Palmer Street,” Zack concluded. “What are you in the mood for?”

  What am I in the mood for? Jenny asked herself. A good night’s sleep. A time machine to go back and use a condom. The ability to sneeze without peeing. A husband with stronger parenting instincts. “I don’t know,” she ultimately said with a shrug. “Anything’s fine.”

  Jenny drove the short distance to downtown while Zack tried to get Steve to stop screaming in the back seat. Although she knew it was wrong, Jenny couldn’t help but get some enjoyment out of watching her husband struggle with the baby
. He was always so quick to pawn Steve off on Jenny when fussy time came, but this time he was stuck dealing with it. Now he was getting an idea of what she had to go through on a regular basis. She genuinely hoped this would help him be more understanding of what he was doing every time he handed her the crying baby and walked away.

  “What’s his problem?” Zack asked with frustration.

  “Gas, maybe?” Jenny replied.

  Zack fumbled around in the back seat, looking frazzled. “I’m about done with him.”

  Welcome to my world, she thought. “We’re almost there. Then we can get him out of the seat; maybe getting him more upright will help.”

  She heard Zack mumble something inaudible. Although she couldn’t make it out, she had a good idea of what he’d just said.

  Just as she was about to parallel park the car on a quaint, cobblestone street, Jenny felt a pull that caused her to press the gas pedal and continue in the direction she’d been heading. “Where are you going?” Zack asked. “There was a space back there.”

  She didn’t reply for fear of losing the contact.

  Under ordinary circumstances, Zack would have understood what was happening, but in his overwhelmed state, he continued to argue. “The restaurant was right there. What…” He suddenly seemed to grasp what was going on. Again, he muttered under his breath, but beyond that he stayed quiet.

  Jenny found herself driving out of the picturesque shopping district of Oakton and into an area that had clearly seen better days. Trash littered the side of the road; run-down houses filled the spaces between graffiti-covered businesses. A man pushing a shopping cart full of cans walked along the street.

  “Just where are you taking us?” Zack asked as the baby continued to wail.

  She ignored both of them as she pulled into a parking lot next to a grassy area that had a sign in front of it, declaring that area to be “Ronald K. Hammond Park.” A decrepit playground sat near the pavement, and several soccer goals illustrated the fact that there were multiple playing fields, although none of them looked like they had been well-maintained. The entire park was encompassed with a rusted chain link fence. Cars buzzed by on a nearby overpass; that stretch of road appeared to be a highway, based on the speed of the cars traveling on it.

  She got out of the car and took a few steps forward, paying no mind to the handful of people at the park who were directing their attention at her. Closing her eyes, she saw a bearded man lying near one of the benches designed for the soccer teams to sit on. Darkness surrounded her; the man was illuminated only by the dim lights provided by the parking lot and the highway a few hundred yards away. He lay on his back with his hands interlaced over his stomach, appearing to be either sleeping or passed out. Based on the smell of his breath, the latter was more likely to be true.

  He’s evil. The horrible, whispery voice echoed inside Jenny’s head. Do you see him there? He was sent by them. If you don’t kill him, he’s going to wake up and blow up this place. Everybody’s going to die.

  She looked around fearfully. No one else was there, which meant she was the only one who could do anything about it.

  He is gathering his strength so he can destroy everybody. Once he wakes up, it’s all over. He’s going to blow up the earth. All of it. There will be nothing left.

  She remained frozen.

  He needs to go. He’s going to kill everyone when he gets up. You have to take care of this.

  She scoured the area in her mind’s eye, finding a large rock near the fence.

  Get it, the voice said.

  Jenny didn’t move.

  Come on, you freaking wuss. Get the rock.

  Tension filled her body; she hated when the voice called her names.

  What’s the matter with you? Go get the rock.

  She still refused to listen. She didn’t want to do this again. She hated doing this.

  He deserves it. What is stopping you? Are you afraid? Stop being a pussy.

  Jenny wasn’t a pussy. She even said it out loud in the dark, albeit through clenched teeth. “I’m not a pussy.”

  The man on the ground stirred as Jenny spoke.

  You’re going to wake him, you asshole. Then he’s going to kill you. Are you going to let him do that? Are you that much of a weakling?

  Jenny whispered more quietly, “I am not a weakling.”

  Then prove it. Be a man. Do this.

  She still wouldn’t move, the inner turmoil building up inside her to the point of being physically painful.

  You are worthless, you know that? You are a weak excuse for a man. You don’t deserve to live, you stupid piece of shit. I’m ashamed to know you.

  Jenny felt herself trembling. Hanging her head, she conceded to the fact that she would inevitably do this. Resisting only made the voice angrier, so she figured she might as well do it sooner rather than later. She felt the anxiety leave her body as she shuffled her feet in the dark, walking over toward the large rock lying innocently by the fence.

  Mercifully, the vision faded before she executed the attack; she certainly didn’t need to see what happened next. She spun back around to see Zack out of the car with the screaming baby. Looking at her impatiently, he asked, “Is your vision over?”

  Jenny nodded solemnly. “It is.”

  “Good,” Zack replied, “then you can take him.” He walked the few steps in her direction, handing over little Steve, whose face was red and splotchy from crying. Swallowing her irritation, she put the baby over her shoulder and began patting his back, assuming that he’d been crying due to gas. She wondered, though, why that wasn’t something Zack could have done.

  “Well, since your hands are free, can you please look and see if any bodies have ever been found at this park?” Jenny wasn’t sure if the dig had been received the way it had been intended, but it certainly was done on purpose.

  “Bodies?”

  “Yes, bodies.” The baby squiggled on her shoulder as he continued to fuss. “I get the impression that a homeless man was bludgeoned to death with a rock over by the benches.”

  “Eww,” Zack said as he pulled out his phone. “Did you see that?”

  “Fortunately, no. That’s why I’m not sure if it actually happened. I know I had the vision through the eyes of the same man, though, because that crazy voice was shouting orders at me again.” She stifled a shudder. “I realize the families of the victims will probably feel differently, but I actually feel sorry for this guy. I mean, granted, he did some terrible things to people, but from what I can gather, his life was a living hell. Oh, dear…” Jenny’s hand, which had been situated under Steve’s bottom, felt his diaper fill up—a notion which was confirmed by her nose a few seconds later. However, the baby stopped fidgeting and crying after that, so she considered this a success, despite the unpleasant chore ahead.

  Zack looked at his phone. “It says here that the body of a fifty-three year old homeless man was found here three years ago. His head had been bashed in.” Glancing up at Jenny, he added, “They assumed it was teenagers or some kind of gang initiation.”

  She shook her head. “It was the work of our mentally ill friend.” A horrifying thought crossed her mind. “Who found the body? Does it say? Please tell me it wasn’t a group of kids who wanted to play soccer.”

  “There was an anonymous tip,” Zack replied as he looked back at his phone. “The body was found before sunrise.”

  “An anonymous tip,” Jenny repeated in a whisper. “Do you think that could have been our guy calling it in?”

  With a shrug, he said, “I have no idea.”

  “I would think that someone else who just happened to stumble across the body would have called 9-1-1. I mean, why would an innocent person go through all the trouble of keeping himself anonymous?”

  “Umm…” Zack said as he looked around, “I doubt that someone who was at this park before sunrise could really be described as innocent, even if he isn’t the killer. It may have been somebody selling drugs or something—so
mebody who wanted to report the body but didn’t want to have contact with the police.”

  Jenny gave the notion some thought. “Do you think there’s any way they could trace the phone call and see who made it?”

  “From the anonymous tip line?”

  Hanging her head, she realized her question had been silly. Sleep deprivation seemed to be eating away at her brain cells.

  An intense wave suddenly washed over her. She looked over her shoulder at the bridge supporting the highway, feeling a strong urge to move in that direction. “Here,” she said, handing Zack the quiet—albeit stinky—baby. “Can you change him? I’ll be right back.” She tried to keep her sentiments short to avoid losing the contact, but she actually doubted that would be a problem considering how compelling the pull was.

  Zack made a sound as she plopped the baby into his arms, but she ignored his apparent reluctance and started heading toward the bridge. Under ordinary circumstances, she would have felt uneasy walking alone in such a shady part of town, but she couldn’t help but feel that she could easily defend herself these days. She had so much pent up frustration from the baby, she would have actually welcomed the opportunity to punch somebody in the throat. As she marched with determination, she almost wished somebody with bad intentions would approach her so she could get some of that angst out of her system.

  In order to access the bridge, she had to leave the sidewalk and venture through some long grass and weeds. The bridge turned out to be a bridge over nothing, presumably in place to keep the highway at a consistent height as it soared toward the downtown area.

  As she grew closer to her destination, she was able to make out a dark object under the bridge, which, upon further inspection, turned out to be a person sitting next to a meager pile of belongings. She stopped in her tracks, whispering to herself, “Really?” She wasn’t entirely sure this was going to be safe, but she knew—in no uncertain terms—that this was the person she was supposed to talk to.