“Are you saying that you know what this strange message means?” Missy was astonished.
“Unfortunately, I do,” the artist replied.
Missy’s heart went cold at his tone. “What’s going on, Kel?”
“The killer isn’t after you, my sweet. They’re after your beloved Chas.”
Her eyes widened in fear. “What are you talking about? Who is it, and why are they after Chas?” she whispered. Echo paused, her coffee cup halfway to her mouth.
“I was able to find out through a sick and twisted fan of Warren Casman’s, that most of the men in the cells around him don’t last for very long. They end up asking for a transfer, or, oddly enough, being transferred to a psych ward because of the relentless mind games that Casman plays with them. There was one notable exception, however…a man named Anton Botkins, who killed his entire family in their sleep when he was twenty-five. According to the Countdown Killer’s biggest fan, Casman wasn’t impressed by Botkins’ intelligence, but talked with him about murder, mayhem and methods to pass the time.”
“Call me crazy, but I really don’t see what any of this has to do with Chas,” Echo confessed.
“Yeah, Kel, how is this related to my husband?” Missy’s eyes were wide.
“Anton Botkins escaped from the prison a little over two weeks ago, and hasn’t been caught.”
“That still doesn’t explain why he would be down here, doing these things to Missy and Chas,” Echo persisted.
“Oh, but it does. Chas was the detective who arrested him for murder. He’s been in jail for over a decade, just waiting to get out so that he could seek his revenge. The madman thought that his imprisonment was unfair because he didn’t see that killing his family was wrong.”
Missy’s hands went to her throat.
“But doesn’t that mean that he would’ve been judged to be insane?” Echo wondered.
“Apparently not. He’s a sociopath. He fully understood that society would see his actions as wrong, and that there would be consequences if he were caught, he just didn’t agree that what he was doing was wrong, therefore, though sick and twisted, he didn’t meet the legal definition of crazy,” Kel explained.
“I need to call Chas and warn him,” Missy murmured.
“Yes, my lovely, I think it’s at last time for that,” the artist agreed somberly.
Missy dialed the detective’s number and told him everything that they’d learned.
“We’ll talk later about the wisdom of you going out of the state to visit a serial killer without talking to me about it, and I appreciate that you’re trying to help, but I already knew that Botkins had escaped. The first things I looked at weren’t just the enemies that you might have, but the enemies that I might have, and there’s a pretty long list – occupational hazard. There are federal agents who are trying to find him, but he may not be involved in our situation at all. We’re processing evidence now that’s been gathered over the past few days that will let us know if we already have the culprit in custody.”
“Gus?” Missy asked, surprised.
“It’s looking like that may very well be the case,” the detective replied carefully.
“Does that mean that I don’t have to worry anymore? We’re safe now?” she visibly relaxed.
“Looks that way, sweetie. Don’t let down your guard just yet, but it appears that this may all be over soon.”
Missy relayed what Chas had said to Echo and Kel after she hung up, and the artist still looked troubled.
“What is it, Kel? This is supposed to be good news,” Echo nudged him.
“It is good news, if it’s true,” he nodded, not looking convinced.
“What would make you think that it’s not true?” Missy asked.
“Anton Botkins has a pretty strong motive to come after Chas Beckett and his family…what motive could Gus, the pest control guy, possibly have for doing something like this?” he asked reasonably.
“That’s a good point,” Missy frowned.
“It would be a shame if the police stopped looking for the killer, and had the wrong guy in custody,” Echo worried.
“That would mean that we’d still be vulnerable…actually even more so,” Missy commented, biting her lower lip. “So, what do I do?”
“Exactly what we have been doing. Never go anywhere alone, keep the dogs with you at all times, and make sure the doors and windows are locked,” Echo replied. “You can’t let your guard down until the case is solved conclusively.”
“What about Chas?” she whispered, distraught.
“Chas is as intelligent and careful as they come. I have no doubt about his ability to take care of himself,” Kel assured her.
Missy nodded.
“Well, my beauties. I’d love to stay and theorize more with you, but duty calls. I have an appointment with a collector this morning, and have to run. Text me if anything…unusual happens,” he directed, snagging a salted caramel dark chocolate cupcake on his way out.
Missy and Echo sat at the kitchen island sipping their coffee and staring into space, when the heard Kel bellow from the entryway.
“Missy!” the artist called.
She and Echo ran to the foyer and saw Kel standing with the front door open, not stepping out onto the porch. They stopped about fifty feet from the artist, reflexively grabbing for each other’s hands.
“Kel…what is it?” Missy asked, not wanting to see whatever had made him react the way that he had.
“You need to see this…there’s no way that Gus could’ve done this. He’s in the hospital for crying out loud…” the artist mumbled, turning around, stunned.
Chapter 16
Detective Chas Beckett frowned as he gazed upon the latest atrocity. The killer had chosen to send a message this time, and it was one that had Missy trembling. There were three wild rabbits that had been eviscerated, and, scrawled in blood on the pristine white floorboards of the porch were two words…Woof Woof.
“I want to leave, Chas. I have to get out of here. I can’t let this psychopath get our babies,” she panicked. “I could go back to Louisiana, or out to California…I can’t let anything happen to Toffee and Bitsy.” She was as close to hysterical as he’d ever seen her.
“Sweetie, I understand that this is really scary, but if whoever this is can find you here, they’ll be able to find you wherever you run to. The doctor’s say that Gus should be coming around any time now, and once he does, we’ll be able to talk to him to find out what’s going on. I think it’s best that you just stay put for now. I don’t want you to be that far away from me,” the detective took her in his arms.
“How can you still think that Gus did this?” she murmured against his chest. “He’s been unconscious, and look what happened.”
Chas held his wife away from him for a bit so that he could look into her eyes. “You can’t talk about this, sweetie, but I have evidence that directly links Gus to some of the crimes. Obviously, he didn’t do the most recent thing, but if he was involved in the others, that means he knows who is behind all of this. Once he wakes up, we can question him, and possibly nail this guy. It’s just a matter of time. I’m going to find the guy, and you won’t have to worry anymore, okay?”
“Okay,” she nodded. “I trust you.”
**
Missy and Echo huddled together on the couch that evening, trying to concentrate on watching a movie. Chas had gone into the office to work on the case, and Gus still hadn’t regained consciousness, so life was in a scary holding pattern at the moment. The two women jumped at every sound, and refused to relax with a glass of wine, wanting to remain vigilant, just in case the killer chose tonight to try to get to Toffee and Bitsy, who were currently curled up on the floor between the coffee table and the couch. Missy hadn’t let them out of her sight all day, and when they needed to go outside, she and Echo both went with them, armed with mace. Moose was also included, strapped into his backpack every time they ventured out.
The friends h
ad no plans of sleeping, and had several movies queued up on Netflix, but eventually, sleep overtook them, and they dozed on opposite ends of the couch. Sometime in the wee hours of the night, Missy startled awake. Heart pounding, she looked immediately at the other end of the couch, only to find Echo missing. Panicking, she sat up straight, listening in the dark. She muted the current romantic comedy that was playing out on the television, and sat perfectly still. Hearing a scraping sound that sounded as though it was coming from the sun porch, she swung her legs down to the floor, being careful not to step on the dogs, who were also listening, heads cocked.
Toffee started to growl low in her throat, and Missy whispered to shush her, not wanting the killer to know where they were.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when Echo whispered to her in the darkness.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you when I got up to go to the bathroom?” she asked, plopping down on the couch.
“Shhh…listen,” Missy said tersely, not even looking at her friend, but reaching back to grab her hand.
Another faint scraping sound.
“There it is again! Did you hear that?” she demanded.
“I heard it,” Echo whispered nervously. “What should we do? Are you going to call Chas?”
Missy chewed on her lower lip, thinking. She didn’t want to bother Chas if the sounds that they were hearing were something as simple as a branch scraping against a window pane or something, which meant that they’d need to go down and look to determine the source of the sound. She told Echo as much, and they silently got up to go do exactly that, dogs in tow, and a disgruntled cat strapped into the backpack.
They crept through the house, heading for the sunporch, and stopped in the hall, trying to see into the room without being seen if, indeed, there was someone out there. Missy and Echo both gasped as they saw a rather large shadow move outside the sunroom doors. Missy’s phone rang, shattering the silence, and lighting up the room. The shadow froze in place, and the women ran for the stairs.
“Hello???” Missy answered frantically when she saw Chas’s number.
“The killer is Anton Botkins,” the detective said grimly. “I’m on my way.”
“He’s here, Chas, he’s trying to get in and we…” her sentence was cut off by the ear-shattering noise of breaking glass.
“Chas, he’s inside, the killer’s inside,” Missy screamed in a whisper, then dropped the phone to take off after Toffee and Bitsy when they darted down the stairs to investigate the source of the crash.
Chapter 17
Missy flew down the stairs giving no heed to her own safety, in her quest to protect her beloved pets. She turned the corner at the end of the steps and charged after the barking dogs, shocked by what she encountered in the sun room.
Unlike Warren Casman, Anton Botkins had a nightmarish face like one would expect to find on a bloodthirsty killer, and at this moment, his blunt and distorted features were covered with blood. Missy stopped in her tracks, unable to believe her eyes. Standing over the prone body of the unconscious killer, was a fiery-eyed Kel. Echo had run down the stairs after Missy and pulled up short, equally shocked.
“Wha…what happened?” Missy stammered, staring at the typically refined gentleman, who was casually dressed and flexing his bruised hand like it hurt.
Kel’s chest rose and fell as he forcibly controlled his breathing. “He was about to break in. I was watching from behind the cabana. I couldn’t let him do it. I charged him, and when he turned around, I punched him with every bit of force and energy that I possessed,” the artist explained, stepping over the body and coming to stand in front of them.
“Oh my gosh!” Echo exclaimed, finally finding her voice. She brushed past Missy, threw her arms around her boss’s neck and surprised them both by kissing him soundly. Kel hugged her hard, adrenalin flooding through him.
“Thank you, Kel. Thank you so much,” Missy whispered, gathering her dogs close, as Chas and a group of police officers burst through the front door.
“I didn’t know you owned sportswear,” Echo laughed, with tears in her eyes, not moving from his embrace.
Chapter 18
Missy felt good having her old routine back in full swing, and she hummed to herself as she took a batch of fresh ginger apple cupcakes out of the oven at Cupcakes in Paradise. Echo and Kel had just settled in at their usual bistro table, and were waiting for her to join them for coffee.
“Whatever possessed you to go after a killer?” Echo asked, still awed by her boss’s swift handling of a dangerous situation.
“Yeah, Kel. I knew that you kept in shape, but I had no idea that you were capable of something like that,” Missy grinned, sitting down with a plate of cupcakes.
“I did some boxing back in the day, and I still have a sparring partner at the gym. It just kind of came naturally,” the artist shrugged.
“That’s kind of counterintuitive for someone who makes his living working with his hand,” Echo raised an eyebrow at the incredibly gifted artist.
“How do you think I keep them so strong, my beauty? I use proper form, no worries.”
“How did you know that he’d be there, trying to get in?” Missy asked.
“I didn’t, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I’d been camped out behind the cabana since the sun went down.”
“I’m so glad you did. You saved our lives. Mine, Echo’s, Toffee’s, Bitsy’s…I can’t thank you enough,” she replied, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “Free cupcakes for life, Kel,” she grinned.
“I thought that was already firmly in place,” he shot back with mock astonishment, and was spared a reply when the front door opened.
“Spencer!” Missy exclaimed, jumping up to hug the Marine who had grown both his hair and a beard while he was gone. He picked her up and swung her around, then set her back down to do the same to Echo. Even Kel received a hearty embrace from the young man who was glad to be home, seeing familiar faces.
“I’m so glad you’re back,” Missy grabbed his hand and led him to the table. “I hope you had a good vacation.”
“Yes ma’am, I did, but it’s sure nice to come home to quiet little Calgon,” the veteran nodded, helping himself to a cupcake. “Did I miss anything exciting?”
The trio exchanged looks and burst out laughing.
“Nah,” Kel replied. “Nothing we couldn’t handle.
“Looks like you’ve been beating people up,” Spencer remarked, noticing the small cut and significant bruise on the artist’s hand.
“Did you know that Kel used to box?” Echo asked him.
“Yeah, the guys down at the gym say he’s pretty good,” the Marine nodded.
“Good enough, at any rate,” Kel grinned.
Spencer looked at each of them in turn, feeling like he’d missed out on the joke, but shook his head and smiled. It was good to be home.
Copyright 2015 Summer Prescott Books
All Rights Reserved.
A letter from the Author
To each and every one of my Amazing readers: I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think by leaving a review!
I’ll be releasing another installment in two weeks so to stay in the loop (and to get free books and other fancy stuff) Join my Book club.
Stay Curious,
Summer Prescott
Fruitcake Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 26 (A Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) Page 6