15 Signs Of Murder (Fifteen thrillers)

by Luis Samways

  Thirteen

  The Departure

  ‘Seth, Elle and I are going home. This place sucks tonight,” I say to Seth, who appears to be on the verge of doing the same thing.

  “Okay, I’ll tell the rest of them, and we can all go together.”

  “We are all too drunk to drive, Seth.”

  “I know. We’ll walk home. You guys can crash at my place — it’s the closest.”

  “If you say so. I’ll tell Elle what’s going down.”

  I nod at Seth, who downs his last drink and starts rounding up the guys. I make my way out of the Dive and give the fat bartender another smile as he flicks his towel off his shoulder and waves me off. I open the heavy flappy doors and see Elle sitting on the curb across the street. She looks gorgeous as usual; she’s biting her fingernails while staring down at her feet on the wet floor. She looks up at me and signals me over. I walk over, admiring her long legs.

  “Are you cold?” I ask her.

  She shakes her head stubbornly. I can see she is, so I take my parka off and drape it around her shoulders; she gives me a gleeful grin as I plonk myself down next to her.

  “So what’s the plan?” she asks me while I take a cigarette out of my pocket and light it.

  “Seth said we could all crash at his house. I don’t know if that’s okay with you or not, but his place is closer than all of ours.”

  “I suppose that will have to do, won’t it?”

  “Yeah, I know, I would much rather you and me go to mine.”

  “I bet you would.” She laughs playfully.

  At that moment Seth and the rest of group crash through the Dive’s entrance, singing and chanting in drunken unison. I look over at Elle, who catches my gaze.

  “I’m sorry about trying to make you jealous, Toby.”

  “Aw, don’t worry about it. I deserved it.”

  “I wouldn’t say you deserved it, Toby. We did have a good time, after all.”

  I smile ear to ear; turns out she does like me after all. I try to hide my happiness.

  “So it was good, then?”

  She laughs as she gently takes the cigarette out of my hand and inhales a drag while looking at me with her wide, beautiful eyes.

  “Would I be wanting more if it wasn’t?” she asks.

  Fourteen

  A Drunken Stumble

  It’s amazing how drunk you feel when you hit the fresh air. I don’t quite notice it very often, but tonight it seemed like all of us were suffering from fresh-air drunkenness. I’ve been sitting on the curb outside the Dive for a good ten minutes before the gang decides to make a move to Seth’s. Elle and I are talking through our differences, tailgating the group. The trek to Seth’s includes some highway walking. We keep to the hard shoulder as cars whiz on past at sixty-five miles an hour. It doesn’t do much good for the senses, all those bright halogen lights hitting our already blurred vision. Seth is at the front, playing the leader of the pack as he talks to Dwaine at his side. The rest of the boys are a few steps behind him, going about their conversations. As for Elle and me, we’re just talking over the night’s events.

  It’s pretty dark outside. The only light we’re getting is from the bright bulbs speeding past us. Every few seconds the cars lighten up the cracked hard shoulder beneath our feet. My tennis shoes glow for a few seconds, then return to their usual dull color. I get a glimpse of Elle as another car rushes by us; her face brightens up for a few seconds as the whites of her eyes glisten in the gloom of the night.

  “You okay?” I ask her, trying to make some conversation to match the loud chatter in front of us.

  “Yeah, I’m just a little drunk. I’ll sober up before we get to Seth’s.”

  “Okay.”

  We keep walking as Seth and Dwaine stop dead in front. A buzz of commotion is heard from both of them as I push through the boys to see what’s going on. Seth and Dwaine are looking at the ground intently, as if they’ve found something interesting. I tap Seth on the shoulder, trying to get his attention.

  “What’s the holdup?” I ask him, feeling the bitter cold of the night.

  He turns around to face me, his eyes alight with excitement. He points to the ground a few yards from where he’s standing. I can’t see anything. I give him a questioning look.

  “What?” I ask.

  Suddenly another car drives by, illuminating the dark cracked pavement, revealing a shining metallic object on the ground. As the car cruises by us, I manage to make out the object on the pavement. The shape remains familiar in my drunken recollection.

  “What the fuck!” I shout as Dwain and Seth nervously laugh in agreement. The rest of the boys and Elle push through to get a look at what’s causing such a fuss among us three. Elle’s face drops as she starkly darts her gaze from the ground back to me.

  “Don’t touch it. It could be dangerous,” she says quietly.

  “No, shit, Elle.” Seth laughs

  “What should we do?” asks Dwaine.

  “‘I don’t know — you have an idea, Dwaine?” asks Seth.

  “Why would I have an idea?”

  I shake my head, noticing where Seth is going with this.

  “Because you’re black,” Seth says bluntly.

  The boys break out in laughter as Dwaine shakes his head in disappointment.

  “Well, I’m sorry to break it to you, Seth, but I’m not too familiar with these situations, even if I am black.”

  “All right, just cool it,” I say, trying to gather my thoughts.

  “We should take it,” says Seth.

  “Um, no,” I say bluntly.

  I look down at the ground as my mind races in twenty different directions. Another car drives by, lighting up the dark path once more, revealing the ugly metal object on the ground. Seth bends down to grab it. I hold him back.

  “Are you crazy? That thing could be loaded.”

  “So what?” he says as he grabs the revolver off the ground. He holds it up and gives it a closer look. He undoes the loading clip and pops the chamber. He spins it and looks closely into it. A car drives by once more, lighting our shadowy figures back to life. Seth smiles as he swings the chamber shut.

  “It’s only got one bullet in it,” he says while palming the gun in his hand, holding it flat as if he’s weighing it.

  Suddenly the darkness is pierced with blue and red lights as a siren bursts through the silence. A police cruiser pulls up beside us; Seth quickly holsters the gun behind his back, pulling his hoodie over the bulge. A police officer steps out of the cruiser. He takes a few steps forward, leaving his door open. The sound of radio chatter hits the atmosphere as he flicks his flashlight on. I notice his name tag. “Officer M. Mullins,” it reads.

  “Evening,” he says while eyeing the group.

  “Hey,” says Seth calmly. You wouldn’t know he was shitting himself — either that, or he didn’t care that he was carrying a loaded revolver.

  “What are you doing, walking on the highway?” says the tall officer as he catches my gaze.

  “Night out drinking, sir. Our van is parked near the place where we were drinking. We thought it would be better to leave it there than drive it home in our condition,’ says Seth, who’s obviously thinking on his feet.

  “Good thinking,” the officer mutters as he flicks his radio off on his chest.

  “Sounds like a busy night,” I say.

  “Indeed,” the officer says.

  “So…” Elle snaps, finding her voice.

  “Just one more thing before I let you guys leave.”

  “Sure,” I say.

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-one,” says Seth.

  “Isn’t that a bitch — it seems everyone out drinking these days is twenty-one. Surely the drinking population out there wasn’t all born in the same year? Because I know I wasn’t born yesterday.”

  Fifteen

  So…You’re Feeling Lucky?

  The patrolman eventually left after an hour or so! T
alk about the Boston P.D. and their lack of anything better to do. He basically grilled us for the name of the pub we were drinking at after making it clear that he knew we were not of age to be consuming alcohol. Seth told him the name of the place. Looks like we won’t be drinking their anymore. If the fat man finds out we’re the ones who ratted him out, then we’ll have a lot more to deal with than sober thoughts. We head on down to Seth’s place. The mood between the group is one of split mind sets. Dwaine moved to the back next to us, while Mike, Rocco, and Seth headed to the front.

  “I can’t believe Seth kept the gun,” says Elle as she looks at the pavement.

  “You know Seth — you can’t tell him no,” I say, trying to comfort her.

  Dwaine shakes his head at the thought.

  “That guy is crazy without a piece. I hate to think what he’ll do with one. You know what he did with the baseball bat to that kid, and that was only to gain some credibility.’

  “You think he’ll take it to school?” I ask.

  “Why wouldn’t he?” states Dwaine.

  “Because of the detectors at the front gates, maybe,” Elle chimes in.

  “Yeah, he wouldn’t be that stupid, now, would he?” I say, trying to alleviate the somber atmosphere.

  Some more cars drive by. The blinding light hits my eyes as I start to sober up. My vision becomes clearer as I watch the three boys in front walk on excitedly. Seth looks back at me with a sneer-like grin on his face. He stops dead and turns toward me, waiting for us to catch up.

  “What’s up, guys — you look a bit gloomy.”

  “Maybe it’s to do with the fact that you are carrying a concealed weapon you just found on the side of the highway. Don’t you think maybe it’s there for a reason? Maybe someone tossed it out of their car. Maybe it was involved in a murder, and now your prints are all over it. It wouldn’t hurt to think a little before doing something stupid like this, Seth,” Elle says, while I look on in awe at her beauty when trying to make a point.

  “I don’t think it matters. They’ll never find the gun.”

  “‘Why not? Explain it to me, Seth,” I say.

  “Because after I’m done with it, I’ll destroy the damn thing.”

  “Destroy it?” I ask.

  ‘Yeah, guns aren’t indestructible, Toby,” he spouts as he walks off, catching up with Mike and Rocco in front. I turn to Dwaine.

  “What do you think he means by ‘after I’m done with it’?” I ask as I look on in front of me.

  “God knows, but whatever it is, I’m sure when he does what he’s planning, we’ll know about it.”

  Sixteen

  Seth’s House

  We get to Seth’s house after a few awkward hours on the highway. By now I’m ready to go to bed, but the boys, excluding Dwaine and me, are up for party games. Seth eyeballs me as we reach his living room.

  “You up for a few more drinks, Toby?” he asks me.

  “I was thinking of calling it a night, Seth.”

  “Come on, don’t be a pussy.”

  He hands me a bottle of beer and points down at the floor. I sit down, joining the rest of the group, who by now are forming a crude circle on the fluffy carpet of the living room. I look around and see the working class style living room filled with sports teams’ pennants and other memorabilia. I look at the large fifty-inch TV propped up on the wall. I see the remote on the couch next to me, so I decide to reach for it and turn the TV on. Seth swats the remote out of my hand.

  “Fuck that — we’re going to play a game. Leave the damn TV off.”

  I look at him in shock but don’t bother arguing; after all, this is his house. I see Elle watching from the living room door. I signal her to sit next to me. She slowly walks on over and sits down. She gives me a worried look, as if she is uncomfortable in here. I put my arm around her and squeeze gently. I continue to watch Seth scramble around the living room. He’s got three bottles of hard liquor in his hands; he plonks them down on the soft carpet in the middle of the human circle we have formed. He gets some glasses and puts them in the middle of the circle. He looks around and sees the big bay window just in front of us next to the big TV. He cracks a smile and strolls over to it. He closes the drapes and turns back around; a sigh of relief escapes his mouth. He reaches behind him as if he’s fiddling with his belt. He pulls out the revolver and taps it on his thigh as if he’s in deep thought. He’s soon snapped out of his thinking when Elle lets out a moan.

  “What are you doing, Seth?” she asks nervously.

  He smiles at her and walks on forward. His heavy footsteps push into the carpet as he makes his way toward the circle. He looks down at the empty spot in the circle and sits down, crossing his legs like a child in kindergarten. He scratches the side of his head with the sleek barrel of the revolver. He finally opens his mouth as I prepare for whatever stupid thing he’s about to say.

  “Let’s play a game,” he says in a Saw-like tone.

  Rocco and Mike laugh in unison as Seth continues brandishing his revolver.

  “What sort of game?” Elle asks.

  I look at Seth as he enjoys the looks of horror on Dwaine’s and Elle’s faces.

  “The sort of game that involves a gun,” Seth says as he bites down on the barrel of the revolver.

  Dwaine stands up. His chest is puffed out, and I realize what he’s about to do. I grab him by the ankle, distracting him for a few seconds. Seth shoots up and points the gun at Dwaine’s head.

  “Sit the fuck down!” screams Seth as he waves the gun in Dwaine’s direction. Dwaine complies and sits down. He gives me a woeful look as if he’s pissed off at me for grabbing at his leg. I shake my head emphatically at him. He soon drops his gaze back to the floor as I grip Elle’s hand hard. Her sweaty palms touch mine as I look on in anticipation of what could possibly happen next.

  Seventeen

  Let the Games Begin

  “We are going to have a little fun here, boys and…girl. Now, let’s start drinking and get this game started,” says Seth.

  I look at him as he downs a full bottle of Bud and wipes his mouth dry. He clicks the safety off the revolver and looks at me.

  “You have any idea what we are going to play, Toby?”

  I remain silent as I try to gather my thoughts. Can this really be happening? Has my best friend Seth lost his mind? Is he dangerous?

  “Answer me, you no-good piece of shit!” he screams as I jolt in shock at his outburst. Seth gets up from his spot in the circle and starts waving the revolver around. Elle grabs at my hand as she winces in fear. He comes up to me, still pointing the loaded gun. I look around and see the now-scared faces of Mike and Rocco as they struggle to comprehend Seth’s actions.

  “Get up!” Seth screams while grabbing at my collar. I oblige and hastily make my way to my feet.

  “Are you ready to play?” he asks as I stand firmly in place.

  I think to myself for a little, preparing myself for anything drastic or out of the ordinary.

  “Sure, ready as ever,” I say as cautiously as possible.

  “Good,” Seth says while moving in closer, as if he’s about to whisper something into my ear.

  He hits me hard in the ribs. Turns out he’s good at knee lifts, as I find out when I hit the floor in pain. Man, it feels as if someone has driven out all the air from my lungs and replaced it with hot lava as I struggle to breathe face down in the carpet. I’m so close to the floor that I can actually smell the carpet freshener that was freshly put on in the last couple of days. Hmm, lemon fresh, I think to myself. I struggle to look up as I see his feet towering over me, taking steps backward and forward as a child would do when needing to go to the bathroom. I hear Dwaine get up from beside me. I dread to think what will happen as I shut my eyes tightly. I hear a loud pop. As I regain the courage to open my eyes, I see Dwaine holding his nose. Looks like he just got socked in the face. I get up, using all the strength I can muster, and make eye contact with Seth. He looks on in an enraged s
tate. He grabs me by the collar again.

  “You want to die tonight, Toby?” he screams.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask.

  Suddenly my vision slows down as I see Seth’s head lean forward at high speed. The force of the head butt knocks me out. Everything goes dark.

  Eighteen

  End Game

  I finally come to. The ceiling looks dirty as I blink a few times. I can practically hear the dryness in my eyes as my eyelids struggle to unstick. It’s extremely hot. I grab at my face and feel the cold blood. I shoot up as I recall the situation that led to this. The silence in the room is deafening as I look around. No one is in the living room. The huge TV that I was admiring before is now broken and cracked. I get up and steady myself. There’s a strange smell in the room, an odor of absence. I turn around and make my way to the hallway. The stairs that lead upstairs look disturbed. Not in the sense that there are chunks missing out of them (Seth’s parents never got to fixing them, I guess), but the scattered clothing on the banister looks out of place. I don’t remember any clothes being on the stairs when I entered. The kitchen to my right catches my attention. The lighting from the bulbs in the kitchen is flickering like candles in a church. I notice the sparse light escaping from a crack in the door. That, too, wasn’t there before. My heart starts to race. Something just doesn’t feel right as I make my way to the kitchen door like a moth to a light source. I feel powerless but determined to find out what’s going on. If only I’d just walked out of the house, I wouldn’t be talking to you now.

  I reach the door and touch the handle. I can just about see the tile floor through the inch-wide crack.

  “Hello?” I say as I slowly open the door. The scene is one I wish I’d never witnessed. I have heard my dad spout about how he wished sometimes he wasn’t a court bailiff because he would have to hear about the crimes that the defendants committed while he was ensuring their stay in the courthouse. Well, I kind of feel the same way in this situation. If only I weren’t Seth’s “friend,” then I wouldn’t be witnessing this.

  I walk in and see Dwaine sitting down with his face resting on the dining table. His body looks relaxed enough, as if he’s fast asleep across the hardwood dining surface, but the blood dripping from the table to the floor gives it away. As soon as I see that, I know he’s dead — that, and the knife in his head. I dart my eyes to the right and see that the door leading to the garden is wide open. I slowly make my way over to the door. Its fresh breeze hits me like a ton of bricks. I flick the switch next to the frame. It lights up the garden. I see Mike and Rocco on the garden chairs with beers in their hands. Their grips are tight around the Budweisers as I step in closer. The light from the kitchen escapes my back and lights up Mike’s and Rocco’s faces. I stop in terror as I see what stands before me. Both Mike’s and Rocco’s necks are slashed open. I can see the sheen of their spinal columns as they penetrate through their severed skin. I puke — granted, I’m a bit fucking shocked.