by Gary Hancock
Jigsaw Jill
by
Gary W Hancock
Copyright Gary Hancock 2017
The images on this work has been identified as being free of known restrictions under copyright law, including all related and neighboring rights
This free ebook may be copied, distributed, reposted, reprinted and shared, provided it appears in its entirety without alteration, and the reader is not charged to access it
Prologue: Homicide Detective John P. StJohn was a Los Angeles Police Department Homicide detective. His ability to put clues together and solve many high profile cases earned him the name "Jigsaw John". Even to this day, a officer that can piece together seemly unrelated clues is often called "Jigsaw". This story even though it is fictitious is dedicated to him.
Officer Jill Thompson:
I was looking at my partner laying on the ground behind the squad car. The life slowly leaking out of his body through a leg wound. Those vests don't protect all of your body and either the killer was a marksman or just got lucky. It doesn't really matter in the end. Shot is shot. The shooter had gotten away cause I was to busy trying to stop the flow of blood and calling for help from anyone that could hear. An EMT crew was on the way and every cop car in the vicinity was responding to the "officer down" I had broadcasted over the radio. Charlie was going in and out of consciousness. I kept talking to him about anything that came to mind.
I started as far back as I could and told him about growing up with two parents that were as rich as could be. Dad had gotten into the tech world and bought tons of stock on those startup companies and had sold out before the Dotcom bubble popped. I really don't know how much he made but it must have been a couple hundred million. He met mom when she was doing the modeling bit right after she got out of high school. It wasn't his money that attracted her, because her family had come over from Italy traveling around the tip of South America and brought grape vines into Napa Valley. They must be worth a billion. So you see I was brought up in a house that had every thing money could buy. My parents really love each other and when mom got pregnant they just went wild with anticipation. How such a handsome man and a fashion model mom could have such a plain baby is a mystery.
Jillian Fiore Thompson was born July 31, 1994 named after both of her grandmothers. Not really a heavy baby but very long. Flaming red hair with the piercing blue eyes of a born interrogator. My physique would plague me for years.
Charlie, Charlie pay attention. I am telling you things I never told anyone else. Where was I, oh yes, I was born a skinny baby and grew up in luxury. It was ok while I was at home with all
the people that loved me, but life forces you to go to school at the tender age of six.
Mom couldn't have any more kids due to complications during my birth so I was it for the family. Only the best for my parent's only child and they enrolled me into the Academy for Rich Bitches. At least that is what I called it. The movie "Mean Girls" doesn't even compare to that place. It was bearable for me till I turned twelve. The other girls started getting their "shape". Me I was just getting tall. I soon was the tallest one in the class and taller than some of my teachers. My shape was that of the number "1". I could hear them talking about me and making sure they were just loud enough for me to hear. "I'll bet she is a member of the "IBTC" and giving me the nickname "Ironing Board".
By the time High School rolled around, I was six feet tall and had the highest grades in the class. This only added fuel to the fire for those female classmates of mine. It is only a miracle that I didn't just withdraw into a shell of pity. But one thing I got from my parents was that neither of them belong to the group know as "quitters".
Teddy Brooks:
I tracked Mona down today. She has been on my mind for ten years and now I had my turn in this play called "Life". When I was in the ninth grade she made a fool of me in front of all the other students. I loved her the first time I saw her and had finally worked up the courage to ask her for a date and she humiliated me when she looked at me and said, "What girl would go out with a loser like you." and she laughed in front of everybody. We were at the wooded area where all the kids hung out and smoked after school. I ran all the way home that day and cried in my room till my mother came home. I told her what had happened and she told me not to worry about that piece of trash and that one day I would find the right girl to marry and be happy.
Mona had married the captain of the high school football team. They had a pretty little house in a nice neighborhood. He owned a chain of sporting good stores and was traveling between them all the time. I think Mona is just as pretty now as when she was fifteen. She is not laughing at me now. The duct tape over her mouth keeps her moans and screams quiet and the plastic ties hold her arms and legs spread apart on the bed in her pretty little house. I am in charge and she is the one that is nothing now. I placed a pillow over her face and said, "Don't worry Mona, just go to sleep."