The Murder Next Door
Page 1
The Murder Next Door
A COZY MYSTERY NOVEL
IVY THORNE
Copyright © 2021 by Ivy Thorne
All Rights Reserved.
This book may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form without the written permission of the publisher.
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Table of Contents
The Murder Next Door
Table of Contents
The Murder Next Door
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
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The Murder Next Door
Introduction
When Marla James discovered a dead body in the apartment next to hers years ago by coincidence, her life was tremendously affected. More specifically, it is after this chilling encounter, that she decides to become a funeral director, a job that she surprisingly still enjoys. Given her peculiar personality and her difficulty in understanding and following the social cues, this role has been a great fit for her. This is exactly why a seemingly ordinary phone call in the middle of the night, wasn’t enough of a warning for the nightmare that was about to unfold before her eyes...
Oddly enough, not only is the crime scene located where she once lived, but she also recognizes the victim, who to Marla’s horror, is her old landlord. To make matters more complicated, she realizes that she has already seen one eerily similar murder in this exact house, a few years ago. Both victims died from a slash to the throat, the killing trademark of a murderer who is already behind bars. Shocked by the gruesome turn of events and the overwhelming memories, she tries to recollect herself and do her duty. However, not long after speaking with Dane Read, the handsome detective investigating the case, Marla is declared a suspect by the police. Out of nowhere, more and more damning evidence is planted against her, giving her only one option...
Inevitably, she will be forced to take justice in her own hands, struggling to eliminate the possible killers herself. However, the more suspects she interviews, the more dreadful secrets she uncovers. As the case’s clock is reaching its final strike, Marla’s chances for exculpation are tragically reduced. Will the dashing Detective fall for Marla’s quirky charm and intelligence and help her find the real culprit, or will he stand by idly, watching her go down for a crime she didn’t commit? Will she manage to get to the bottom of this mystery, swimming through the dangerous obstacles that lurk in every corner?
Chapter 1
Marla groaned when the sound of her phone ringing woke her. It was past midnight. She’d been assigned to be on-call for the night. It wasn’t too often in the small town of Wallsberg that she had to transfer a body in the middle of the night. But, when she did, it sucked.
“Hello, Oswald Funeral Home, this is Marla James speaking,” she answered, trying not to yawn.
The man who responded introduced himself as a policeman. “Ms. James, I’m afraid there’s been a murder,” he said.
Marla’s heart skipped a beat. There hadn’t been a murder in Wallsberg since she was eighteen years old, almost ten years ago. The event had been a tragic one, and it had happened inside the apartment neighboring the one where she’d used to live. The memory of witnessing the body still haunted Marla. It had both disturbed and fascinated Marla − enough for her to become interested in funeral services.
For most people, this experience perhaps would have called them to practicing medicine or working in a field where saving people’s lives is the incentive. What had caused Marla to choose funeral services was her fascination with death, and her desire to help the people who’d been affected as a result of a loved one’s death.
“Ms. James? Are you still there?” the officer said.
“Uh, yes,” Marla responded. She’d been so shocked by the news of the murder she’d almost forgotten she was still on the phone. “Are you sure this person was killed? I mean, could they have died from an accident?”
“Yes, Ms. James, this man’s death was brought on by someone. His neck was slit from ear to ear.”
Marla gasped. She almost dropped her phone. How could this be happening again?!
Years ago, when Marla had the misfortune of discovering a corpse in her neighbor’s apartment, the man had been killed in the same manner. Blood had been everywhere. Marla remembered her mind being unable to process what she’d seen. The man’s body had been draped on the couch, as though he’d been killed in his sleep. One thing was for sure, that man had been taken by surprise.
For a moment she was transported back into her young adult body. She’d climbed her way to the third story of the stout building where she’d lived, her arms loaded down with grocery bags. Panting, Marla remembered dropping the bags at the front of her door before she’d noticed her neighbor's door ajar. Finding this odd, she’d gone to investigate.
That’s when she’d seen the murdered man. At first glance, the sight hadn’t registered in Marla’s brain. It was so horrible her brain didn’t want to accept it as real. She’d witnessed the body at an angle. It’d looked as though the man had been lounging on the couch watching television. Had it not been for the mess of gore spattered all over his shirt and the gaping wound carved into his neck, he’d almost have looked natural.
“Where is this body resting right now?” Marla inquired. Despite the flashback she was experiencing, she knew she needed to keep her composure to complete the removal.
“62 Pillar Drive.”
“What?!” Now Marla was beyond flabbergasted.
62 Pillar Drive was an address she knew all too well. After all, she’d lived there for almost two years.
“Is something wrong, Ms. James?” the officer asked.
The question was somewhat ironic given the fact that a man had been murdered.
“Sorry. It’s just… that’s the address of a house where I once lived,” Marla explained.
“Unfortunately, the landlord has been killed,” the officer stated.
“Reggie is dead?!”
“Yes. Given that you knew the man, we might have some questions for you.”
“Sure. I didn’t know him well, but I’d be happy to help out in any way that I can,” Marla replied.
After hanging up the phone, Marla climbed into her funeral director’s suit and entered the transfer van she’d parked in her designated spot for the night. Because of her job, she was required to be dressed formally for body removals. In the July heat, it certainly wasn’t comfortable to be covered head to toe in black, but this was a sacrifice Marla had to make to show respect.
It was hard for Marla to compute the officer’s words. The man she’d once rented from was now dead in the same manner as the man she’d discovered all those years ago. Oddly enough, the murderer had been caught and imp
risoned for life. So, whoever had killed Reggie couldn’t have been the same guy.
He died in the apartment numbered 32, Marla recalled. I’d spent eighty-three dollars and fifty-two cents on my groceries and had been struggling to carry all the bags down the hall to my apartment.
Marla’s photographic memory was both a gift and a curse. A keen memory came in handy for remembering phone numbers, addresses, names, and other important details, but it also meant she couldn’t forget. Sometimes Marla wished she could forgo her negative experiences in life.
The house was more or less how it had looked when Marla had lived there. The only difference in its appearance was a new gate separating the front entrance from the side entrance she’d once used. There had been a flimsy latch on the old gate − one that flew open every time a strong gust of wind passed through.
Police cars were scattered along the side of the road. Marla wondered how much commotion the murder had caused. Additionally, she wondered who’d called the police.
Marla backed the van in front of the old red Mazda she recognized as having belonged to Reggie.
The lights of the house’s upper portion were on. Several people were gathered by the side entrance of the house in front of the gate.
Marla approached the group. It consisted of several officers and a young traumatized-looking woman who was standing off to the side of them. Marla could hear them discussing Reggie’s death in hushed voices.
“This looks like the work of Slasher Saul,” one of the men said.
“He’s been imprisoned for years. It can’t be him,” another officer stated.
“Maybe it’s a copycat murderer,” someone suggested.
Upon Marla’s arrival, all but two of the officers scattered.
“Can we get an outside light on so we can see what we’re doing?” a man called out. He seemed to be in control of the other officers. He was likely the lead detective on the case. In the dark, all Marla could see was his tall, broad stature. Moments later, the front of the house was flooded with light.
“That’s better,” the detective grumbled. Now that Marla could make out his features, she could see his face was heavily lined. “How are we supposed to get this body out of here if we can’t see?” he said in frustration. His eyes were weary and his demeanor was tense. He looked and sounded like the sort of man who’d witnessed too much depravity in his lifetime.
Without introducing himself he addressed Marla. “The removal might be tricky since the body has to travel down a set of stairs. It doesn’t matter which exit you choose, the stairs can’t be avoided,” he explained. He then stared away, with an exhausted look on his face. “You’re the professional, so I’ll leave you to assess the situation. Excuse me.”
The detective left Marla alone with the younger man and the girl. Judging by the girl’s scared demeanor, Marla assumed she’d been the one to discover Reggie’s body.
“I used to live here once, you know,” she said to the girl. “You found Reggie, didn’t you?”
The girl nodded. She said nothing. Marla wanted to comfort her, but she didn’t know how. One of her faults as a funeral director was her social awkwardness. Despite her years of training and experience, she still struggled to display warmth when she spoke with bereaved families. It wasn’t that Marla didn’t experience empathy for others, it was that she didn’t know how to show it. For this reason, some people misunderstood her as being cold-hearted, which wasn’t a positive trait for a funeral director to have.
“This might sound crazy, but I once discovered a murdered body too,” Marla continued. “He’d died in the same way as Reggie. His throat had been slit, resulting in death by exsanguination.”
The girl raised her eyebrows in confusion.
“Exsanguination means bleeding out,” Marla explained.
The girl whimpered and wandered over to the edge of the property. She sat with her arms firmly wrapped around her legs.
“I just should have kept my mouth shut,” Marla muttered to herself.
It was then that the younger officer spoke. “Don’t worry about her. She’ll be okay,” he said. “She was quite composed when answering our questions. Though, that could be because the reality of what had happened hadn’t settled in yet. She discovered the body after returning here from a café where she worked the late shift. I guess the door separating the upstairs from the basement was open. She looked in and spotted Reggie covered in blood and sitting in his armchair. By the way, that man who just left is my superior, Detective Wallobe Wiggins. He’s the leader on this case.”
The man then introduced himself as Dane Read. In the light, Marla could see that he was quite attractive. He had dark hair, a slim build, and gorgeous gray-green eyes. Since the failure of her last relationship, Marla hadn’t been interested in finding a new boyfriend, but Dane was undeniably sexy.
The reason Marla’s relationship with her previous boyfriend had ended was she hadn’t been able to provide him with the attention and care he needed. His name was Harry. He’d been a nice enough guy, but he’d often misunderstood Marla as being careless. Marla wasn’t the sentimental type, meaning she didn’t keep things like birthday cards or drawings people had given her.
Harry once had discovered a poem he’d written for Marla in her trash. Marla hadn’t discarded the poem because she hadn’t appreciated it, but because she had no reason to hang onto it. Harry always assumed Marla had thrown away little poems and drawings he’d done for her because she didn’t love him.
No matter how many times Marla had tried explaining this wasn’t true, he hadn’t understood. Eventually, he’d broken up with her. True, Harry had been insecure. Perhaps there would have been nothing Marla could have done differently to save the relationship. Still, she couldn’t help but feel that she could have done better communicating her feelings for him.
“I’d be happy to lend you a hand if you need help transporting the body,” Dane offered.
You could lend me a hand for more than just that, Marla thought.
“I’d appreciate that. Thanks,” she answered.
Because Reggie’s body needed to go down several stairs to be taken out of the house, Marla went to the van for some supplies. She returned to Dane with a tarp, a stretcher, and some gloves.
“Although more stairs are leading down to this side entrance, I think it would be the better option since the front entrance leads out onto the lawn,” Marla said. She handed a pair of gloves to Dane. “It’s not easy to wheel a stretcher over the uneven ground, especially with the added weight of a body on it. The other option leads out behind the gate onto the paved driveway. That will make it much easier for me to steer the stretcher. Besides, my van already is parked on the driveway.”
Dane nodded in understanding. Marla positioned her stretcher by the side door. She left the door open as the two of them entered the house.
They found Reggie’s body caked with blood and lying on a recliner. His complexion was gray. The way the blood stained his plaid button-up shirt reminded Marla of a bib. It looked as though he was wearing a bloody bib. Even more gruesome was the gash across his neck. The cut was so deep Marla could see his trachea poking through.
Despite all the horrific sights she’d seen during her career as a funeral director, it never got easier. Not wanting to dwell on the garish scene, Marla jumped into action.
“I’m going to lay the tarp down at the foot of the chair,” she explained. “I’ll then need you to take his arms. I’ll take his feet and the two of us will slide him onto the tarp so he’s lying horizontally.”
Before Marla could begin the process, she was approached by Detective Wiggins. He started by apologizing for not introducing himself before. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the protocols of coroner’s cases, but just in case, I need you to transfer Reggie to the lab in the city. Do you have their number?”
Marla nodded. Whenever a body was found with no known cause of death, the protocol was for it to be shipped to a forensic lab wh
ere forensic pathologists could perform an autopsy to ascertain a cause of death.