A murder story - part twenty-one

Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is really growing on me. This is the ninth part of the second day of this winding and twisting crime saga. I was writing this as part of NaNoWriMo -- sadly I didn't crack the 50,000 word mark but the writing continues...

If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.

*********

“Miranda,” Danny began, “about this sweatshirt.”

“Yeah?” Miranda responded apprehensively.

“Let’s just say that it is from someone you at least went to the academy with.” Danny paused, carefully crafting the rest of his question. “It’s only been a few years, Miranda, do you remember anyone in your class who may have seemed a bit, uh, off?”

“Not at all.” Miranda replied as she stood up. “We were all in our early twenties, Danny. Everyone probably had some issues they were dealing with. I was still dealing with my parents getting divorced and I talked about it with a few friends I made along the way but I don’t recall anyone else talking about anything overly weird or traumatic or flat out fucked up.”

“Well,” Danny uncharacteristically stammered, “was there anyone who may have had a crush on you?”

“Fuck, so you think it could be someone from my class? What was all that bullshit about not jumping to conclusions?” Miranda’s voice rose and her face began to fill with a combination of anger and fear. “I don’t know. My class was about 75% guys so there could have been someone but if there was someone who had some sort of creepy crush on me, I never knew about it or noticed anything.”

“Are you sure, Miranda?” Danny looked into Miranda’s piercing blue eyes. “I just want to put any possibility of someone maybe being after you out of my head and yours.”

“I’m sure Danny. I am 110% sure that this isn’t some sort of sick unrequited love bullshit the led some twisted fuck to kill two women to get my attention.”

Miranda returned to inspecting the soft ground surrounding the development’s pond with more intensity than before. Even with intense focus her mind wandered back to her days spent in the police academy. She had definitely caught the eye of a few of her fellow classmates but at the time simply brushed it off as guys being guys. She was always careful not to lead anyone on and as she began to recount those earlier days she couldn’t recall anyone in particular who jumped out to her as being a future murderer.

“Kline, Grove.” A stern voice came over the team’s radios simultaneously.

“This is Kline.”

“We got an I.D. off of those prints you guys found at yesterday’s crime scene in the car.” Perkins exhaled into the open mic, “You guys should come around to the front of the house here.”

“Holy shit” Miranda exclaimed, “I can’t believe they got something back so soon! This could be the big break we need on these cases!”

“Let’s not get too fucking excited, Miranda. It’s never a sure thing until you’ve got her naked - so to speak.”

“Jesus, Danny,” Miranda turned to look at her partner as they walked at a fast pace towards the front of the townhome development, “but I don’t think you should call it a sure thing until you’re fucking her!”

Miranda laughed heartily at her own joke, seeming to top Danny’s penchant for crude sex jokes for once.

“Hell,” Danny began, “I was gonna say it’s never a sure thing until you’re pulling your dick out of her but I was trying to keep things classy.”

“Yeah, that’s you,” Miranda laughed in her well-known fake laugh, “classy as hell.”

The two turned the corner and began to walk in front of the row of painfully similar townhomes, not too far away they could see Homicide Chief Donald Perkins puffing away on yet another cheap cigarette as he held his dirty aluminum coffee mug, alternating between sips of coffee and deep drags on his cigarette.

“Alright guys,” Perkins paused as he threw his cigarette on the ground and artfully snuffed it out with his left foot, “like I mentioned on the radio we’ve got an I.D. on the prints you guys pulled from yesterday’s crime scene.”

Miranda and Danny both made hand gestures for Perkins to get to the meat of the story.

“Well,” Perkins exhaled a thick cloud of smoke from his nostrils, “the prints were yours Grove.”

“What the holy fuck?” Miranda screamed, her face instantly red. “There’s no fucking way those are mine!”

“Jesus, Don”, Danny exclaimed, “Do you have any idea how to say something delicately?”

“Hey Danny, you guys wanted to know the news so I told you. If you wanted shit delivered softly to you you should have ordered a fucking flower bouquet.” Perkins turned a coughed, hacking up some phlegm in the process and spitting on the lawn.

Miranda stood, holding back whatever anger was raging inside of her.

Danny turned to place his hand on Miranda’s shoulder but all Miranda did was walk away, kicking the grass as she walked.

“Where does this leave things,” Danny tried to regain his composure as he addressed Perkins, “I mean you can’t honestly think that Grove was actually with our first murder victim, can you?”

“Dammit Danny, the prints were there and the prints were her’s.”

“Well, what if?” Danny began, stopping mid-sentence, “What if, and this has to be it, what if the prints were planted?”

“Are you fucking serious Danny?” Perkins laughed a deep, gravelly laugh. “Who the hell would go to the work of planting prints?”

“Well based on what we found out behind these townhomes, it’s starting to look that our murderer just might know Grove.”

“Don’t leave me out of the loop Danny, what did you guys find?”

“It was a sweatshirt from the college Grove attended.” Kline offered up flatly. “And it had her graduating year embroidered on it, too.”

“Well that’s a bit of a twist now, isn’t it?” Perkins dug his heel into the grass, waiting for more details. “What else do you have that’s gonna start to convince me that Grove wasn’t at least with our first murder victim?”

“Well,” Danny paused as Miranda nudged him in the ribs, shaking her head no, “Miranda was with me.”

“Of course she was,” Perkins said, pausing to spit a nasty loogie on the grass, “she’s your damn partner but that doesn’t clear up where she was a three in the morning Danny.”

“But it does, Donald. She was with me at 3 AM.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, does that mean?” Perkins asked, stammering the whole time.

“Yeah, it means that we have been sort of dating and on the night that Emily Jenkins was murdered, Miranda was with me.” Danny stopped and waited for a reaction from his boss.

“Is this true, Grove?” Perkins hiked up his pants as he waited for an answer.

“Yes, Donald, it’s true.”

Miranda stood with an almost blank expression on her face as she processed the fact that she was working at the scene of the murder of her best friend and had just confessed to having an intimate relationship with one of her superiors to clear her own name all before 8 AM.

“Hey, I’ll accept all responsibility for beginning a relationship with a co-worker and not going through the proper channels to”

“Damn right you will -- both of you!” Perkins interrupted Danny as he pulled another cigarette from the pack residing in his shirt pocket. “While we’re having sharey-sharey time, why don’t you two get out any other little secrets you have so we can get back to work!”

“Nothing else, Donald.” Danny shook his head as Miranda shook her head no.

“Alright then you two lovebirds, get back to where you were and let’s all meet back here in thirty.”

Miranda and Danny returned down the sidewalk and around the corner towards the park behind the townhomes where they had first discovered the bloodsoaked sweatshirt.

“Well, Danny, I guess our relationship is sort of out there now.”

“Well, Miranda, it was only a matter of time before someone found out. I just wish that the circumstances would have been different. Nobody wants to spill the beans about who they’re sleeping with in that way.”

“Damn right Danny, I can’t fucking believe that Perkins had the balls to even think that I had something to do with yesterday’s case.”

“Well Miranda, he had evidence that he had to at least feel out.”

Miranda stopped walking and turned to Danny, “Jesus Christ, whose side are you on Danny?”

“Miranda, you know it’s just part of the job. I know you’re innocent and now Perkins knows that you’re innocent. I just think the bigger question here is how in the hell those prints got on the inside of Emily Jenkins’ car in the first place.”

“Yeah, Danny, I guess you’re right. Is it weird for me to be a bit freaked out by the fact that my prints somehow ended up in the victim’s car? And then today we end up working this case?”

“It is all a bit too convenient Miranda. I don’t want to worry you but I know I’d feel a bit better if you stayed at my house until we get someone in custody for these murders.”

“Shit, Danny, you really do think that this murderer knows me, don’t you?”

“We have to face the facts, Miranda. This is all a bit of a big coincidence -- your fingerprints showing up inside of a murder victim’s car, your best friend being murdered and finding that sweatshirt -- to be just a random bunch of related events that has nothing to do with you. When we’re done here we should go take a look at your apartment just to make sure everything is--”

**********

Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!

A murder story - part twenty

Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is really growing on me. This is the ninth part of the second day of this winding and twisting crime saga. I was writing this as part of NaNoWriMo -- sadly I didn't crack the 50,000 word mark but the writing continues...

If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.

*********

Danny Kline walked on the trail around the side of the smallish pond before descending down the bank towards the water while Miranda Grove worked her way alongside the fence and trail which lined the small backyards of each of the block of townhomes.

Inside Ms. Pinkowski’s townhome, Officers Meyer and Cornwell examined the walls, floors and seemingly every inch of every surface with flashlights as they looked for any evidence that may have been left behind.

“Hey Marcus,” Sherry yelled out, “I’ve got something here.”

“Yeah Sherry,” Marcus replied, “what is it?”

“It’s a crumpled up note. No name,” Sherry stated, “but it does have a phone number.”

“Hey Sherry,” Marcus yelled out from the victim’s bedroom, “has anyone found her cell phone yet?”

Sherry glanced around at the other two officers who were working the scene, asking them without saying a word.

“Nope Marcus,” Sherry yelled back, “no phone yet but let’s double back on each other’s work and see if either of us finds anything the other missed.”

Officers Marcus Meyer and Sherry Cornwell continued to go through the townhome of Becky Pinkowski with proverbial fine-toothed combs.

Outside of the home, Officer Miranda Grove explored every inch of the rear of the property with painstaking detail.

“Fuck,” Grove muttered to herself, “a shoe print. This could be...” Miranda trailed off again, entirely wrapped up in her detailed investigative work.

“Holy shit,” Danny Kline yelled out from across the smallish pond to nobody in particular.

Miranda sprang up and yelled out, “Did you find something, Danny?”

Miranda picked up her toolbox and sprinted around the trail to the opposite side of the pond where her partner Lead Investigator Danny Kline was standing along the shoreline.

“What, what...?” Miranda asked as she paused to catch her breath from the quick dash.

“Well,” Danny began, “only this Miranda.” Danny held up, on the end of a stick, a blood-soaked navy blue sweatshirt. As he turned it around, Miranda gasped.

“Fucking shit, Danny,” Miranda exclaimed, “that’s...” Miranda covered her mouth in shock.

Danny displayed the blood-soaked sweatshirt with one hand as he unfurled a plastic evidence bag with his other hand.

As Miranda stared at the back of the sweatshirt, she began talking. “Southwest State Law Academy -- fuck me. That’s...”

“That’s where you went to college, isn’t it?” Danny paused as he placed the sweatshirt in a bag.

“Hey,” Miranda said as she reached out for the bag, “the only way to get one of those sweatshirts is to enroll in the academy and each year they make new ones embroidered with the year that each student would graduate in. What’s the ye-”

Officer Grove stopped speaking mid-sentence.

At the same instance as Miranda noticed the embroidered graduation year, Danny did as well.

“2010” The pair said flatly almost in unison.

“Holy shit.” Miranda exclaimed. “If this is the killer’s sweatshirt, this fucker graduated with me or was at least in school with me. Jesus Christ, Danny, this fucker could know me. He could know who I am. He could know where I fucking live, Danny.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Miranda,” Danny held out his hand as he spoke, “we can’t be sure that this isn’t a sweatshirt that someone picked up at a thrift shop. And jumping to conclusions about the killer possibly knowing you isn’t going to do us any good.”

Danny returned to looking over the area but his mind picked up where Miranda had left off. What if this was someone that she had graduated with who had killed these two people? It was too convenient to find this bloody sweatshirt bearing the name of her alma mater to be a mere coincidence. Was Miranda even safe working on these cases now that this one piece of evidence had shown up? Maybe it just an overreaction, though. Why would anyone, particularly a killer, be seeking out Miranda?

Miranda, now more focused than ever, worked alongside Danny as the pair combed the area for evidence. If the killer had ditched his or her sweatshirt here in these bushes, maybe something was inadvertently left behind that would get them closer to an identity.

Danny, though, stood idly by for a moment. Miranda’s string of “what-ifs” had his mind reeling. He had to ask questions no matter how ridiculous they seemed.

**********

Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!

A murder story - part nineteen

Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is really growing on me. This is the eighth part of the second day of this winding and twisting crime saga. I was writing this as part of NaNoWriMo -- sadly I didn't crack the 50,000 word mark but the writing continues...

If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.

*********

“Ms. Pinkowski?” Miranda asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah,” Taylor said as he rubbed his eyes, “I had never seen anything like that before. If she was still alive she didn’t look like it. That was definitely a shitty way to go.”

Kline leaned forward as Miranda shifted in her chair, obviously still squeamish about hearing the details of her friend’s murder. “So,” Kline said as he inhaled the crisp morning air, “no noise. That’s when you ran back to your house?”

“Yeah. I got out of there fast. I mean I had just heard this all go down from my bed. I ran back, grabbed my phone from my bedroom and called 911.”

“Did you stay inside after you called?” Miranda asked inquisitively.

“No way, I was too nervous at that point. I paced around my living room a couple times but I headed outside and walked back and forth out here,” Taylor said as he pointed in a waving motion to the porch the trio was sitting on, “It seemed like just a few minutes before a cop showed up.”

“Officer Cornwell.” Kline stated.

“Yeah, she asked which unit I had heard the noise in and she sort of took it from there. I stood here and listened. I heard her on her radio and in a couple minutes the whole street was full of cops.”

“So,” Miranda began, “after you called 911 did you see or hear anyone or anything in the neighborhood that you’d consider suspicious.”

“Nope. It was as quiet as it always is and I stay up kinda late most nights so hearing anything around here past midnight is strange but, no, I didn’t hear or see anything suspicious.”

“Shit.” Miranda said bluntly. “Do these places have back doors too?”

“Yeah.” The next door neighbor replied just as bluntly.

“Thanks Mr. Briggs.” Miranda said as she stood up and pushed her chair in.

Kline extended his hand, shaking the hand of Taylor Briggs, “We’ll let you know if we have any more questions.”

“No problem.”

Lead Investigator Kline and Officer Grove walked down the townhome’s steps and towards Officers Cornwell and Meyer who were waiting under a Maple tree whose leaves fluttered in the light morning breeze.

“His story,” Kline said to Officer Meyer, “Is solid.”

“So,” Kline asked, “what all did you see when you got here Sherry?”

Tucking her hair behind her ears, the short brunette in her early 40s began, “Well, I pulled up here, lights on, no sirens, and asked the guy, Mr. Briggs, waiting outside which unit was the one in question. He pointed to Ms. Pinkowski’s home and I drew my weapon before I knocked on the door. I slowly pushed it open. Every light in the place seemed to be turned on so it was pretty easy to see what had transpired.”

“And what time was that?” Kline asked as he jotted notes.

“2:37 AM, sir.” Sherry stopped before recounting the rest of the details. “Once I saw the victim and the amount of blood I radioed for backup. I stepped outside and looked for a secondary path the perpetrator could have taken. I didn’t want someone that violent to be able to double back and surprise me before backup arrived. The only way back to the front door after going out the back door is a half a block in either direction. I checked things over and there’s kind of a trail behind here that runs alongside a park and a little pond. A few shrubs, some trees, a playground. Typical little neighborhood setup.”

“Alright,” Kline said before asking Officer Cornwell another question, “Any discernable footprints or anything that looked out of the ordinary back there?”

“No sir.” Cornwell answered politely. “It’s all concrete or pavement back there. All trails and sidewalks for the most direct routes. If the perpetrator knew his or her way around the area, even after just a cursory glance, they’d be gone in a couple of minutes. By the time I was checking back there it had been, um, about 14 minutes since the call came in.”

Officer Cornwell looked at her wristwatch a second time to make sure her details were correct.

“Sorry, sir, it was 15 minutes after the call that I was checking behind the townhome.”

“Okay,” Kline said as he dug in his heels, preparing to walk, “well Miranda, why don’t you and I check out that area behind here and Meyer and Cornwell I want you two to check around inside but check in with that asshole Jenkins first so that fat fuck thinks it’s his idea.”

Both Officers Meyer and Cornwell chuckled at Lead Investigator Kline’s comment about their boss and walked away in opposite directions.

With the sun now making its way higher up in the sky, Kline and Grove walked down the half block long sidewalk and around the corner, making their way quickly to the park-like area behind this block of townhomes.

“I’ll take this side,” Miranda said pointing to the area directly behind Ms. Pinkowski’s home, “if you want to check things out on the other side.”

“Works for me.”

**********

Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!

A murder story - part eighteen

Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is really growing on me. This is the seventh part of the second day of this winding and twisting crime saga. I was writing this as part of NaNoWriMo -- sadly I didn't crack the 50,000 word mark but the writing continues...

If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.

*********

Miranda Grove slowly opened the driver’s side door of the unmarked police-issue Dodge Durango and, wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks, slowly walked towards her waiting partner. As she approached him, her facial expression turned from one of sadness, shock and grief to one of seriousness with a noticeable tinge of anger and vengeance. Kline, seeing this dangerous mix of emotions, looked at Miranda as she got closer to her already walking partner and said “Hey, I know you’ve got a rather personal stake in this case and I can see that you’re angry but we’re professionals Miranda,” Kline put his hand on her shoulder as he stopped walking and turned to face her, “remember that this is routine shit. We’ve trained for years to deal with scenes like this. We’re in this job to help people and solve crimes. We’re not here to exact revenge or settle a personal grudge.”

Miranda looked down at the ground as she shuffled her feet a bit. “Yeah, I know why we’re here. Today it’s to figure out who this piece of shit is who killed my fucking best friend.” Miranda began to choke back tears again, her small fists balled up tightly.

“Listen,” Danny interjected, “people pay attention when you are the one asking them questions Miranda. Ms. Pinkowski’s next door neighbor, Taylor Briggs, was home when this took place. He’s the one who called it in. We need to stay sharp and see what else this Briggs guy saw or heard. We’re gonna get who ever it is who did this Miranda. We’ll get him.”

“Damn right I’ll get him.” Miranda said quietly as nodded and slowly raised her head to meet Kline’s eyes. The look of grief was now gone, replaced by an eerily serious look complete with a furrowed brow and an otherwise emotionless face. “Let’s see what we get by talking to the neighbor.” Miranda exhaled a slight puff and walked with Kline to the door.

Lead Investigator Danny Kline knocked on the storm door, ignoring the doorbell.

The door opened as a bleary-eyed man in his mid- to late-twenties stepped outside.

“Hi,” Officer Grove began, “you must be Taylor Briggs.”

“Yep.” Taylor said as he yawned and rubbed his eyes.

“Excellent,” Miranda stepped aside, “myself and Investigator Kline would like to go over things one last time.”

“Sure.”

“Mind if we sit over there?” Miranda asked as she pointed to a small bistro-type table and chairs on the townhome’s front porch. “This should only take a few minutes.”

“That’s cool.”

“So,” Miranda began as she opened up her note pad, “would you mind walking us through things one more time?”

“Yeah, no problem.” Taylor began as he again rubbed his eyes and yawned. “It was about 2:20 AM when I heard a scream from next door. I mean, I assumed it was next door, it sounded pretty close but still muffled a bit. It was loud enough to wake me up. I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or not but then I heard a loud thud. It seriously sounded like someone had thrown something heavy against the wall.”

“And how did you hear it so clearly?”

“My bedroom,” Taylor began as he yawned another time, “is right against that wall dividing the units. I sat up in bed, wondering what I had just heard, and that’s when I heard another even louder scream -- it sort of sounded like ‘no’ or ‘help’ -- I’m pretty sure there was at least a word in it.”

“Okay. Did you hear anything else? Any other voices or sounds?”

“I didn’t.” Taylor stated matter-of-factly as he sat back in his chair. “Yelling, a thud and more yelling. Then it stopped. I thought it might have been the end of an argument that just happened to wake me up but I had never heard any sort of argument from next door. I sort of sorted things out in my head for a minute, threw on my glasses and came out to go next door and see if everything seemed alright.”

“You hadn’t called 911 yet?” Miranda continued hastily writing notes.

“No, not yet. I came outside, went up the steps next door and knocked on the storm door. That’s when I noticed that the inside door was partially open. I knocked a few more times then pushed it open a bit more and yelled inside asking if everything was alright.”

Miranda leaned forward, “Did you hear anything when you opened the door?”

“Nothing.” Taylor shook his head. “It was totally silent. That’s when I saw blood as I looked down. Then I looked towards the kitchen and that when I saw her.”

**********

Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!

A murder story - part seventeen

Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is really growing on me. This is the sixth part of the second day of this winding and twisting crime saga. I was writing this as part of NaNoWriMo -- sadly I didn't crack the 50,000 word mark but the writing continues...

If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.

*********

“Alright, alright.” Miranda sighed. “I know what I need to do but this one is tough, I loved her like a sister and the piece of shit that did this is gonna fucking pay.” Miranda’s tone went from one of sorrow to vengeance in one short sentence.

Danny had never seen this side of Miranda. He knew that she was still upset but a vengeful cop with a loaded weapon is a bad mix. Danny’s mind raced with the possibilities of what a revenge-seeking Miranda Grove might be capable of. He quickly shook his head from side to side, trying to unimagine what he had just envisioned, and got back to reality and the tasks at hand -- collecting evidence, questioning those who might know something about Becky Pinkowski and solving this murder.

“Dammit Miranda, go have some coffee or something because we can’t very well have a pissed off cop interviewing neighbors. Get your shit together or, like I said earlier, Perkins is gonna catch on and have you behind a desk faster than you can blink.”

“Fine,” Miranda huffed, “I’ll be back in five minutes. I just need... I just need to cool off for a bit.”

“Okay,” Danny replied as he began to walk toward the townhome’s front door, “Come find me when you’re ready.”

Before Danny entered the home, he turned to see what Miranda was doing and where she was headed. Realizing that she must have walked away in quite a huff, he saw her sitting in the driver’s seat of the Durango. He could see that she was sobbing heavily as she repeatedly punched the vehicle’s leather-wrapped steering wheel. This was definitely out of character for the normally calm and almost methodical officer but he wrote it off as her being rightfully emotional after seeing one of her closest friends dead.

Danny again turned and entered the home’s front door.

Approaching Officer Marcus Meyer who had been next door interviewing Ms. Pinkowski’s neighbors, Danny began speaking in a rather gruff tone “Meyer,” he motioned for him to come closer, “what have you heard from the neighbors?”

“Well,” Officer Meyer began, “I spoke to Taylor Briggs who lives to the left of Ms. Pinkowski’s home and he said that he was awakened by what he described as a blood-curdling scream followed by a loud thud against the shared wall between the townhome units around 2:20 AM.” Marcus Meyer paused as he flipped the page of his note pad. “He said that he wasn’t sure if he had dreamt it or if it was real then he heard another scream and was pretty sure it had come from next door. That’s when he stepped out of his front door to check next door and see if Ms. Pinkowski was alright. He noticed that the door was ajar, knocked a few times, yelled inside asking if she was home and if everything was alright, paused while he waited for any sort of response and then slowly pushed the door open and saw blood on the floor and then saw the victim pinned to the bathroom door. That’s when he ran back to his place and called 911. The time of that call was 2:29 AM.” Officer Meyer flipped his note pad closed and looked at Kline.

“Excellent work Marcus.” Danny said before turning to glance back towards the street where Miranda was still sitting in the Durango. “What’s the word from the neighbor on the other side of Ms. Pinkowski’s townhome?”

“Well,” Marcus began, “we haven’t had any luck getting an answer there yet but we’ll keep trying.”

“So,” Kline said as he exhaled heavily, “we’ve got a fairly decent timeframe of the murder and there was definitely a struggle but did the neighbor see anyone in the neighborhood that seemed out of place?”

Officer Meyer began shaking his head from side to side, “No, Mr. Briggs noticed nothing or nobody that seemed out of place.”

“Hell,” Lead Investigator Kline said as he dug his heel into the grass as the sun began to rise, “it’s probably a good fucking thing that the neighbor didn’t go inside to check things out. For all we know the killer could have been hiding behind the kitchen counter waiting to pop out and slash anyone’s throat who he saw. Did the neighbor, um, Briggs, stay inside his townhome after calling 911, did he wait outside? Where was this guy at from 2:29 AM until the first officer arrived here at...” Kline trailed off.

“At 2:37 AM.” Marcus Meyer finished the sentence which Kline had begun. “Cornwell was on duty in this part of town. She was the first on the scene.”

Lead Investigator Danny Kline began to walk away and turned towards Officer Meyer, “Marcus, let’s meet up in five minutes. Track down Cornwell and let’s make sure we’re all on the same page here.”

“You got it, sir.”

Kline motioned toward the street for his partner Miranda Grove to join him.

**********

Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!

A murder story - part sixteen

Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is really growing on me. This is the fifth part of the second day of this winding and twisting crime saga. I am currently writing this as part of NaNoWriMo -- let's see if I crack the 50,000 work mark.

If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.

*********

“What’s the skinny here?” Perkins exhaled deeply as smoke poured from both his nostrils and his mouth, his shirt revealing years of a donut-eating habit and sedentary lifestyle.

“Well,” Danny began, “It’s definitely a homicide. We’ve got a trail of the victim’s blood leading from the kitchen to the bathroom and a pretty significant pool of blood around the victim.”

“Huh,” Perkins inhaled, taking a deep drag from his cheap cigarette, “do we know the victim’s name?”

“Becky,” Miranda said with a brief pause, “Becky Pinkowski. She’s 24 years old, single, lived here in town most of her life.”

“Ah,” Perkins said, pausing to spit on the sidewalk, “good work Grove. Do we know when this shit went down?”

“The next door neighbor called 911 just after 2:30 AM.” Danny interjected as he scratched at his thumbnail.

“We’ve got someone talking to the neighbor?”

“Yeah, I saw Officer Meyer talking with someone, pretty sure it’s the neighbor.” Danny responded to Perkins as he gazed at Miranda who was sniffling a bit, obvious to anyone with eyes that she had been crying moments earlier.

“Alright then,” Perkins began as he cleared his throat and spit a nasty yellow loogie on the sidewalk, “You two can get things better organized inside and start collecting evidence and I’ll check with some of the other neighbors and get a feel for how this Pinkowski chick lived.”

“Chi-” Miranda began angrily but was interrupted by Danny.

“Yeah,” Danny said as he grabbed his partner by the sleeve of her jacket before she said something that would tip off Perkins about her friendship with the victim, “we’re on it, Perkins.”

Safely out of earshot of Perkins, Danny began talking to Miranda in a hushed tone.

“Dammit, Miranda, you can’t do anything that’s going to show Perkins that you previously knew the victim. He’ll have you at a desk so fast that your head will spin. As tough as it is you have to keep your emotions in check and keep it together.”

**********

Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!

A murder story - part fifteen

Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is really growing on me. This is the fourth part of the second day of this winding and twisting crime saga. Sorry about another cliffhanger...

If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.

*********

“I went to high school with her, Danny. We were practically best friends. We had been best friends since we were like fucking eight years old, Danny. Fuck.” Miranda finished her sentence flatly, staring down at her shoes in disbelief.

Miranda moved off the concrete steps in front of the townhome and sat down in the dry grass as the sun slowly crept above the horizon. Danny, in an effort to console his partner and lover, sat down in the grass next to her as other officers milled around both inside and outside the non-descript townhome.

Miranda sat with her knees to her chest, her face resting between her knees.

“Shit, Danny, I went to lunch with her just last week. We had gone on vacations together. We partied together in high school. She was there for me when my parents got divorced and here I am sobbing like a little bitch when I should be doing my fucking job. I’m here to figure out what kind of sick fuck killed my friend. Hell, probably my best friend, Danny.”

“Well, Miranda, it’s entirely up to you if you want to work this case. If you want out of it, I think everyone will under-”

“If I want out of it,” Miranda shot back, almost glaring at Danny as her head sprung from between her knees, “why the HELL would I want out of it? Do you think I can’t handle this because we were, hell, are friends, Danny? I can do this. Shit, I have to do this for Becky. She deserves justice and that is the one thing I can give her. I couldn’t be here to stop this from happening but I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit behind a fucking desk while some sick piece of shit wanders the streets, living his life while Becky lies in the damn morgue.”

“Alright,” Danny said as he looked into his partner’s eyes, “I’m here for you for anything you need. Don’t let your emotions get the best of you, though. I’ve worked a case or two involving people I knew and it can twist your perception of things. Don’t let personal feelings take over and you’ll be as fine as you can be after having this happen to one of your closest friends.”

Danny stood up, offering a hand to Miranda. The two walked back to the Durango parked next to the curb and grabbed both their coffee cups and their crime scene kits and returned to the bustling crime scene where they were greeted by the Chief of the Homicide Division.

Puffing out his chest and hiking up his pants which were constantly being pushed down by his ever-expanding belly, Homicide Chief Donald Perkins flicked at his cigarette and glared at Officers Kline and Grove as they approached the front of the house.

**********

Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!

A murder story - part fourteen

Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is really growing on me. This is the third part of the second day of this winding and twisting crime saga. Sorry about another cliffhanger...

If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.

*********


“Come on” Danny muttered obliviously as he made his way up the concrete steps in front of the townhome, “Let’s see what kind of fucked-up shit went down on this side of suburbia.”

As Danny and Miranda entered the townhome they were both shocked by the sheer amount of blood they encountered. A trail of blood seemed to begin in the kitchen and trailed down the short hallway past the bedroom and ended at the bathroom door where the victim was pinned to the apparently solid core door. A pool of blood had formed on either side of the bathroom door, saturating the plush beige hallway carpet multiple feet away from the door.

“Holy fucking shit,” Miranda said, gasping as she spotted the blood-stained carpet from the end of the townhome’s hallway.

The young officer Grove covered her mouth and turned, gagging at what had to me multiple pints of blood drained from the young woman’s body on to the carpet.

“Are you al-” Danny asked as Miranda interrupted him.

“I, I, I,” Miranda stammered as she retreated from the townhome.

Danny quickly followed her to the townhome’s front steps where Miranda stood simultaneously sobbing and gagging. He put his left arm around her shoulders as he approached her from behind.

“What is it Miranda?”

“I,” Miranda began as she fought back tears while her body shuddered, trying her hardest to spit out a coherent sentence.

“Whatever it is Miranda, we’ve all had it happen. I’ve seen plenty of crime scenes that made my stomach turn.”

“It’s not that,” Miranda quickly shot back in a break from her tears, “I can take whatever it is that I come across in the course of a workday.”

Miranda turned and looked at the sun beginning to peek over the horizon. She zipped up her jacket a bit as Danny silently stood next to her, waiting for his partner and significant other to open up and share what was bothering her.

**********

Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!

A murder story - part thirteen

Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is really growing on me. This is the second part of the second day of this winding and twisting crime saga. Things are well on their way to getting very interesting...

If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.

*********

“Maybe,” Danny said as he turned back around and threw the vehicle in to drive, “but I think a morning like this deserves some sort of grand opening. I mean it’s not every week we run across murders on back-to-back days. It sort of makes life as a cop in Kennebrook worth it after endless weeks of nothing but domestic disturbance calls and piss-ant little break-ins.”

“I get it,” Miranda said as she looked out the passenger side window into the passing rows of houses and street lights, “very few people actually deserve to die but this kind of shit does actually get my adrenaline going. This kind of shit is like something out of a TV show - I almost feel like you should pull your sunglasses off after uttering a brilliantly cheesy line about the grizzly murder you just uncovered and some of song by The Who should start playing.”

“Yeah. It’s just work but this kind of case reinvigorates me. It remind me of why I went in to law enforcement to begin with,” Danny’s voice perked up as he signaled a right turn and sped around the corner on to yet another deserted street, “My mind just runs all over the place imagining what could have happened. I know in the end that it all boils down to the evidence and being professional officers but it feels like we’re reading some sort of crime novel and eagerly anticipating the next twists and turns in the story.”

Danny looked down and grabbed his phone, checking the address of the crime scene again.

“Here,” Miranda reached over, grabbing the phone from Danny, “I can check the address and you can drive. After all you’re going about 70.”

“Fuck, who’s gonna pull me over. We are the mutherfucking police!”

Danny laughed heartily at his own joke as Miranda smiled out of politeness.

“Take a left here!”

Miranda held on to the Durango’s door handle as Danny sped around the hastily announced corner.

“It’s right up here about two,” Miranda paused and began to stumble as she quietly uttered the remainder of the sentence, “blocks.”

“Yep, I can see the lights. It looks like half the damn department is here.”

Danny pulled up to the house and hastily parked the black Durango on the wrong side of the street and jumped out as he threw the gear shift into park before the vehicle stopped rolling, leaving his door open and stoically lunging towards the crowd of officers scurrying around the crime scene.

“Fuck,” Miranda said as she slowly walked around the front of the Durango “this is - shit - I, I, I, uh...” Miranda trailed off.

**********

Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!

A murder story - part twelve

Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is really growing on me. This is the frist part of the second day of this winding and twisting crime saga. The second day gets very interesting...

If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.

*********

“What the fuck?” Officer Kline’s cell phone buzzed on the bedside night stand. He muttered incoherently as he clumsily reached across his naked partner and girlfriend’s body, not caring if he woke her up or not.

“What?” Danny gruffly answered his phone as he looked at the glowing blue display of the alarm clock, taking a mental note of it reading 3:55 AM.

“Jeeeesus Christ,” Danny said rather flatly as Miranda sat up in bed and fumbled for her glasses, “Again?”

Miranda leaned in as she tried to hear the other side of the conversation, her bare breasts brushing Danny’s arm.

“Alright, yeah, I’ll call her and pick her up too. Just text me that address, I’ll be there ASAP.”

Danny sat the phone down and slowly slid out of bed and strode across the dark bedroom and entered the bathroom.

“What’s going on?” Miranda asked as she grabbed one of Danny’s t-shirts and pulled it on over her head.

“Another damn murder. And it sounds familiar.”

“How so Danny?” Miranda asked loudly as she headed down the hallway to quickly brew a pot of coffee.

Miranda returned to the bedroom and removed her borrowed t-shirt and stepped into the shower with Danny.

“Well, what’s the scoop Danny?” Miranda asked as she soaped up her body.

“Neighbor was woke up by some pretty serious screaming. It was one of the townhomes out on the north edge of town. Then a thud on her bedroom wall. That’s when she called 911. When the officer arrived, he checked next door and got no answer but did notice that the door was ajar. That’s when he saw the woman with a fireplace poker plunged through her stomach pinned to her bathroom door.”

“Fuck. Well I guess we’ll see what’s up when we get out there.”

“Yeah,” Danny said as he lathered his hair with a healthy dollop of shampoo and quickly rinsed it out, “but I’m not looking forward to getting called in on a Saturday but there’s almost gotta be some sort of connection. I mean two women don’t just end up pinned to something two days in a row without a connection. It’s too random of a way to kill someone.”

Miranda quickly lathered her hair with a fruit-scented shampoo. She giggled a bit as Danny played with her wet breasts.

Miranda reached out with her left hand and pushed Danny’s horny hands away from her breasts, “Jesus Danny, we don’t have time for you to play feelsy right now.”

“I know. I know. It’s just when I see you all wet and steamy I can’t help myself. I just want to suck on those boobies like a little-”

“Like a little baby? Do you see me as your mommy, Danny?”

“No, but-”

“Yeah, yeah. I know you’re a pervert Danny.”

Miranda leaned in and kissed Danny.

“Now get the fuck out of the shower and let’s see what kind of gore greets us before sunrise.” Miranda said as she stepped out of the shower, water dripping off of her and pooling on the tile floor.

Danny wandered down the hall and grabbed himself and Miranda travel cups of coffee, returning just as Miranda finished adjusting her bra.

“Shit, do I have a spare uniform here Danny?” Miranda asked as she hastily towel dried her blond hair.

“I think you have one in the closet. If not, you can wear what you have on.”

“Really? You’re encouraging me to work in my underwear?”

Danny laughed, “I know it would make me look very forward to the end of the day.”

“Very funny, Dan. Did you find a uniform for me?”

“Yeah, here you go babe.”

“Cool,” Miranda said as she wiggled her way into her blue police-issue pants, “We should be out of here in five minutes. Are you ready yet Danny?”

“Yeah,” Danny mumbled from inside his closet, “I’m almost ready, and I can shave on the way.”

Miranda grabbed her crime scene kit and both cups of coffee and hurriedly walked through Danny’s house to the garage where Danny was turning on his laptop and arranging his crime scene kit.

“Alright,” Danny said as he pushed the button for the garage door opener and turned the key in the Durango’s ignition, “Off we go in to the darkness of a mid-April morning. Only the Lord himself knows what this day will bring. We could bring an end to these murders or we could find still more terrible secrets. Secrets that lie just beneath the surface of the seemingly tame and mundane surface of Kennebrook.”

“Really,” Miranda said, pausing to gulp down a large swallow of coffee, “Did you just narrate the beginning of the fucking day, Danny? I mean it was a good narration but a bit dramatic for 4:25 AM, don’t you think?”


**********

Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!

A murder story - part eleven

Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is growing on me. This is the final part of the first day of this winding and twisting crime saga. The second day gets very interesting...

If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.

*********

Miranda was becoming somewhat giddy at the prospect of having some hard evidence that could lead to the murderer.

“Or they could be the prints of half the guys in Kennebrook,” Danny said as he slid into the driver’s seat of the victim’s car, “Remember what the ex-husband said, our victim liked to ride the old meat rocket quite a bit.”

Danny smiled at Miranda, obviously quite happy with his latest sex joke.

Miranda replied back with one of her many “I’ve never heard that one before” looks that she was known around the department for.

Both Miranda and Danny continued to examine their respective parts of Emily Jenkins’ car and were nearly done when one of the officers who had been working inside the home stepped in to the garage.

“We found the victim’s cell phone and some, uh, DNA as well.”

Danny craned his head out of the victim’s car, “Alright! Don’t spoil it for me. I’ll be in to see what’s been collected. Come on Officer Grove, join me if you will.”

Officer Grove, obviously frustrated by having to be pulled away from her work, put down her tools, removed her latex gloves and followed her partner back in to the home.

“Well?”

Kline anxiously tapped his foot waiting to hear what had been found inside the home.

“We found Ms. Jenkins’ cell phone in the garbage disposal. It’s mangled but we should be able to pull off at least some of the contacts, maybe the call history and text messages too. If not, we can surely track down her carrier and get the records there. At least we’ll have phone numbers to go on.”

“What about the DNA?” Kline blurted out, obviously more interested in the more human side of the murder than technology.

“You’re gonna like this,” the tall, thin officer chuckled, “We found plenty of DNA in the trash can in the bedroom upstairs. Six used condoms, two of which were fairly fresh.”

“What about the wrappers?” Kline smiled coyly.

“What about ‘em?”

“The brand. Were they all the same or were they different?”

“Every last one the same, all eight wrappers.”

“But you said you found six condoms in the trash,” Kline stated, “That leaves a couple rubbers unaccounted for.”

“Yeah, we kinda realized that. I’m thinking those two were flushed.”

“Huh,” Officer Grove finally interjected, “two different means of disposal, two different guys?”

“Or more.” Kline turned and stared at the victim. “How close are we to getting Ms. Jenkins off the wall and to the Medical Examiner’s office? We’re going to need a rape kit done on the body. Obviously check for any sign of sexual assault -- bruising, semen -- anything that gets us more DNA. And check each potential area of entry too.”

After dispensing directions for the officers bustling around the suburban Kennebrook residence, Danny Kline and Miranda Grove stepped out the rear patio door on to the home’s deck.

“Fuck, I guess we’ve got a couple options.” Miranda nodded her head as lead investigator Danny Kline pondered the team’s options aloud. “We can stick around here for a few more hours and keep working the scene and collecting evidence or we can turn things over to another officer, let the others finish up here and check in at the station, log our evidence and call it a week.”

“I’m all for plan B but you’re the boss, Danny,” Miranda leaned against the deck’s railing, pushing her hair off of her face in the light late afternoon breeze, “But it’s almost 7 PM and I have a feeling your mind is already made up.”

“Yeah,” Danny said as he began heading towards the garage where the team had been previously working, “I’m ready to turn this one over, clock out and get the fuck on with the weekend.”

“Then it’s settled,” Miranda said as she almost playfully skipped across the yard towards the garage behind her partner, “We can check in at the station, head back to your place to get ready for dinner and we should be at the restaurant around 8!”

“Hot damn,” Kline said as he flung the garage door open, “A quick shower -- maybe together to speed things up,” Kline turned back and smiled at Miranda, “Some drinks, some food and we can just see where the night goes.”

The duo each grabbed their crime scene kits, evidence bags and cameras and made their way to the police issue black Dodge Durango waiting in the driveway.

**********

Be sure to check back tomorrow for the second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!

A murder story - part ten

Hey there. You've found the tenth installment of a murder-filled work of fiction which I have conveniently left untitled (your title suggestions and comments are welcome!). I began writing this over a year ago but you might be better served by reading the pages in order.

Ready page one of A Murder Story

Ready page two of A Murder Story

Read page three of A Murder Story

Read page four of A Murder Story

Read page five of A Murder Story

Read page six of  A Murder Story

Read page seven of A Murder Story
Read page eight of A Murder Story 
Read page nine of A Murder Story

*********

Officer Grove walked through the open sliding glass doors on to the deck and began looking over the area for anything out of the ordinary. Lead Investigator Kline turned his attention toward the shrubs where he had discovered the blood-soaked rag and began photographing and collecting evidence as well.

“I’ve covered the whole area.” Miranda yelled out. “How about you, Danny?”

“Yeah, nothing huge but just like any other case, you never know what even the tiniest piece of evidence will lead to. On to the garage, Miranda?”

“Let’s see what we find.” Miranda walked down the steps of the deck carrying her crime scene kit.

“Once we’re done in here,” Danny said as he looked at Miranda, “we can check in back at the station and call it a week.”

“Damn,” Miranda said as she pushed her hair back behind her ears, “I don’t think I’ve been looking forward to the weekend this much for years. A case like this really puts things into perspective.”

“How so?” Danny asked as he examined the burgundy Lexus LS300 parked in the garage with a flashlight.

“I don’t know,” Miranda said as she began to look for the right words. “I just look at something like this -- something about relationships -- and I start to wonder.”

“Wonder about what?” Danny asked, still focused on Ms Jenkins’ car.

“I don’t know,” Miranda paused, “It just makes me wonder “what if?”

“Huh”, Danny said under his breath as he proceeded combing over every inch of the garage’s contents.

“Hey,” Miranda sort of shouted out, “I’ve got prints on the passenger side door handle!”

Danny moved around to the same side of the car that Miranda was investigating.

“Dust the entire door for prints,” Danny instructed, “I’ll see what turns up on the inside.”

“Obviously if there are prints here, our victim was either a passenger in her own car or had a passenger,” Miranda said as she continued pulling prints from the burgundy Lexus, “and I think we both know that a woman like Jenkins likes to be in control. These could be the murderer’s prints.”

*********

Be sure to check back each day for another page of this fictional work in progress.

A murder story - part nine

Hey there. You've found the ninth installment of a murder-filled work of fiction which I have conveniently left untitled (your title suggestions and comments are welcome!). I began writing this over a year ago but you might be better served by reading the pages in order.

Ready page one of A Murder Story

Ready page two of A Murder Story

Read page three of A Murder Story

Read page four of A Murder Story

Read page five of A Murder Story

Read page six of  A Murder Story

Read page seven of A Murder Story
Read page eight of A Murder Story

*********

“Well?” Miranda asked as she turned and looked at Danny.

“He didn’t do it.” Danny replied as he turned toward Miranda. “Fuck, this one’s gonna be a tough case. Her ex makes it sound like she had a parade of guys coming through here. Any one of them could have come unhinged if he thought he was the only one she was sleeping with. All it takes is the wrong combination -- a bad day, losing a job, getting piss-yourself drunk, whatever -- and someone who wasn’t quite all there could have snapped and, well, done that.”

Danny pointed toward the home’s living room where Emily Jenkins was pinned to a wall by a spading fork.

“Yeah,” Miranda began, “I’ve been with a guy or two and have seen jealousy combine with anger. I don’t think they were exactly capable of impaling me with a damn fork but anything’s possible I guess.”

“Sure is,” Danny muttered as he quickly made his way down the deck’s steps, “but maybe this could help crack the case.”

Danny smiled as he held up a red rag with a pen he had pulled from his pocket from behind the shrubs surrounding the deck.

“Well, well,” Miranda said, “who knows what that could tell us. But it is just a red rag so it might be nothing.”

“It’s not red,” Danny lead on, “this is all blood.”

“Holy shit,” Miranda exclaimed, “If that’s all blood, then-”

“Then,” interrupted Danny, “it could be our murderer’s blood. After all, who would start to clean all that mess up and throw the rag out here in the bushes?”

“Yeah,” Miranda stated, “I don’t think Mr. Clean did this so let’s bag this up and get it to the station so we can have someone take a better look at it.”

Miranda left and returned shortly with her crime scene kit. The officer pulled an evidence bag from it and carefully, with her now latex-gloved hand, placed the blood-soaked rag in it. After sealing it, she took it inside and handed it off to one of the officers collecting evidence inside the home. Danny followed her inside.

“Listen up,” Danny said in an authoritative tone, “it looks like the murderer may have been injured before Ms. Jenkins was killed. We need to go through every inch of the house, the yard, the garage, hell -- the entire neighborhood. Let’s see if we find anything out of the ordinary. If it looks suspicious, photograph it and bag it as evidence. A murder this violent needs to be solved ASAP. Officer Grove and I will take the back yard and garage. Everyone else, figure out your plan of action and let’s get this area blanketed.”

*********

Be sure to check back each day for another page of this fictional work in progress.

A murder story - part eight

Hey there. You've found the eighth installment of a murder-filled work of fiction which I have conveniently left untitled (your title suggestions and comments are welcome!). I began writing this over a year ago but you might be better served by reading the pages in order.

Ready page one of A Murder Story

Ready page two of A Murder Story

Read page three of A Murder Story

Read page four of A Murder Story

Read page five of A Murder Story

Read page six of  A Murder Story

Read page seven of A Murder Story

*********

Greg shook his head and rubbed his eyes.

“But not angry?” Danny asked inquisitively as he sat his pen down on the table.

“I always sort of suspected she had gone right back to cheating. How could I be angry about something I kind of knew?” Greg shifted his weight. “Emily just proved to me that she wasn’t the monogamous type. I kind of accepted it but urged her to work through this. I kept believing that we could make the marriage work. She knew otherwise, though.”

“So that’s when you moved out?” Miranda asked as a light breeze blew her blond hair into her mouth.

Danny smiled briefly at Miranda spitting her hair out of her mouth but got his business face back without the grieving ex-husband noticing the brief break in his facade.

“No, I stuck around for about six months and tried to work things out,” Greg dryly said, “But Emily had already checked out. Sure, she put on her happy face but I knew that she had already moved on. I assumed that she was back to cheating on me and knowing that, I began to give up. I changed jobs again and was back to traveling more. I figured I had nothing to lose. A few months later I moved out. Emily didn’t even try to stop me. We both knew it was over.”

“About the divorce, was it drawn out, bitter?” Danny asked, stammering slightly.

“No.” Greg softly answered. “Emily gave me most everything and in turn I said that she could have the house. I didn’t want it. Too many bad memories to keep it.”

“About Emily, did she keep in touch after the divorce?” Danny asked, slowly peeling back Greg’s layers.

“We,” Greg paused, “We were still good friends. We would go out for dinner once in a while. We even tried getting back together.”

“Sexually?” Miranda asked abruptly.

“Yeah.” Greg shot back, “We had sex a few times. I guess I thought that we might rekindle things. Emily just liked having sex though. It was pretty obvious to me that she didn’t want anything close to a relationship. I broke it off before I got sucked back in.”

“Had Emily been seeing anyone recently?” Danny asked.

“Wow,” Greg responded, “how many names do you want?”

“So she still wasn’t a one-man kind of girl?” Miranda wittily asked.

“Heh,” Greg sort of chortled, “Emily seemed like she had a different guy every time I talked to her. It wasn’t always just one guy either, she was playing two or three sometimes.”

“Were any of them the jealous type?” Danny asked as he rapped his thumb on the glass table.

“I wouldn’t know,” Greg replied as he shook his head from side to side, “we were still friends but I never asked that much and if Emily ever veered toward that topic I steered the conversation away. I just didn’t want to know about her sex life.”

“Fair enough.” Miranda said.

Danny stood up from the table, “Thank you for your time Mr. Jenkins. If we have any other questions, we’ll be in touch.”

“Thanks Officer Kline, Officer Grove,” Greg said as he extended his hand, shaking the officers’ hands, “I just hope that you find who ever did this to Emily. Nobody deserves this. Emily was a great woman and a great friend -- in spite of our differences in the past.”

As Greg Jenkins walked through the open sliding glass door and through the house, exiting out the home’s front door, Lead Investigator Danny Kline and his partner, Office Miranda Grove lingered on the deck in the rear of the home.

*********

Be sure to check back each day for another page of this fictional work in progress.

A murder story - part seven

Hey there. You've found the seventh installment of a work of fiction which I have conveniently left untitled (your title suggestions and comments are welcome!). I began writing this over a year ago but you might be better served by reading the pages in order.

Ready page one of A Murder Story
Ready page two of A Murder Story
Read page three of A Murder Story
Read page four of A Murder Story
Read page five of A Murder Story
Read page six of  A Murder Story

*********

“I moved out just over three years ago,” Greg quietly stated, “The divorce was final in September of that year.”

“And how long had you been married?” Miranda offered up as she slid forward in her chair.

“Emily and I were married for almost five years. I knew after a couple years that she was fooling around but I thought we could work it out. Obviously I was wrong.” Greg stared off towards the back of the property at nothing in particular.

“Were you upset with her extracurricular activities?” Danny asked in an unassuming tone.

“I kind of suspected it after a few months but put it out of my mind. I traveled a lot for work and just assumed she was keeping busy with friends.” Greg exhaled deeply as he continued, “But about two years in I asked her if she was cheating on me. She denied it but I knew better. I kept asking and as my suspicion built it kind of consumed me. I wasn’t jealous, I guess, but I just wanted the truth. I couldn’t really blame her for cheating -- I was never really there but I still loved her and deep down I knew that she still loved me.” Greg paused as he appeared to get choked up.

“Take your time, we can take a break if you’d like, sir.” Miranda offered up in her most assuring tone. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No,” Greg said, “I’m alright. I guess I thought I could save the marriage if I was around more. I made some changes at work so I could be home more often. We went on a sort of second honeymoon and that’s when it all came out. I caught her texting some guy. I instinctively grabbed her phone and began reading the texts. After just a few it was obvious that they were doing more than talking. And they were doing plenty right in this house. The house we bought as a married couple. We argued but within a couple days, before the end of the vacation, we agreed to work things out. I felt hurt but knew that we could get though things and make the marriage work.”

Danny scribbled down a few notes as Miranda alternated between glancing around the yard and nodding.

“When we got back home, things seemed better. Emily assured me that it was over with the other guy and apologized, saying that she just found comfort in someone who was always around. That made me change. I opted for a different position at work and was home even more now -- down to traveling only about a month a year. But after a year I started suspecting that Emily was cheating again. She only worked part time in the mornings and was done with her workday before noon. I’d occasionally stop home for lunch or on my way to a meeting across town to see her and just say ‘Hi’ but she was almost never here.” Greg paused and inhaled deeply, sliding forward in his chair. “But one day I left work early and came home to pick Emily up and take her golfing with me. Well, she was in the shower with some guy. I just turned around and walked out. I was disgusted, heartbroken, disappointed -- you name it.”


*********

Be sure to check back each day for another page of this fictional work in progress.

A murder story - part six

Hey there. You've found the sixth installment of a work of fiction which I have conveniently left untitled (your title suggestions and comments are welcome!). I began writing this over a year ago but you might be better served by reading the pages in order.

Ready page one of A Murder Story
Ready page two of A Murder Story
Read page three of A Murder Story
Read page four of A Murder Story
Read page five of A Murder Story

*********

Lead Investigator Kline turned into the fairly new subdivision and wound his way to the crime scene.

The duo pulled into the driveway of the non-descript home and stepped out of the unmarked Dodge Durango.

“I wonder if there’s been any progress,” Miranda pondered out loud, not expecting an answer.

“Well, shit, I hope they’ve at least tracked down the husband or boyfriend or girlfriend or someone who knew our victim,” Danny said to his partner.

They ducked under the crime scene tape stretched across the front yard and walked through the home’s open front door to the brutal scene they had visited just an hour earlier. Still bustling with activity as officers gathered and tagged potential evidence. In the dining room sat a man, probably in his 40s, his eyes slightly puffy as though he had been crying recently.

“Is that our victim’s husband?” Danny asked one of the officers in the living room.

“Ex-husband. Been divorced for a couple years he said.”

Grove walked into the home’s dining room with Lead Investigator Kline following close behind.

“Hi, I’m Lead Investigator Danny Kline, this is Officer Miranda Grove. I understand you’re the victim’s ex-husband. We’re sorry for your loss but would like to ask you a few questions. Maybe we could step outside away from all of this,” Danny offered up the standard opening lines with a heavy dose of sincerity as Miranda stood solemnly alongside him.

“I’m Greg Jenkins,” the man said as he stood up. “Maybe we can go out on the deck and talk.”

Greg, the ex-husband, shuffled along with his eyes fixed on nothing in particular but definitely gazing downward, his shoulders slumped. He sat down in one of the cushioned chairs which overlooked the lush, manicured backyard. Kline and Grove sat on opposite sides of the downtrodden ex-husband.

“I can’t believe this could happen,” Greg said as everyone sat down.

“I understand you were divorced,” Danny began as he leaned forward, “How long had you two been separated?”

*********

Be sure to check back each day for another page of this fictional work in progress. 

A murder story - part five

Hey there. You've found the fifth installment of a work of fiction which I have conveniently left untitled (your title suggestions and comments are welcome!). I began writing this over a year ago but you might be better served by reading the pages in order.

Ready page one of A Murder Story
Ready page two of A Murder Story
Read page three of A Murder Story
Read page four of A Murder Story

*********

“God, I’m already here. Why does it -”

“$18.77,” the clerk responded, “Can I help you get that to your vehicle?”

“There’s, um, shit, where is - here’s twenty. Keep the change. I think I can get it to my truck myself,” Kline chuckled under his breath as he and Grove walked to the store’s front door. Kline grabbed two bags of lawn fertilizer and walked to the back of the Durango where Miranda opened the rear gate. Danny tossed them in and slammed the gate shut. “Let’s get back to White Pine Oaks or Gurgling Brook Meadows or Whispering Chipmunk Shit Hil-”

“I get it. All subdivisions have ludicrous names. God.” Miranda, pretending to be annoyed with Danny, chuckled as she looked out the passenger window. “Are we going out tonight, Danny?” Miranda asked as the buildings sped by, all looking alike.

“Yeah, I thought we’d try that new Italian restaurant, maybe pick up a movie or something and head back to my place and make some magic. Do you need to stop home after work?”

“Make some magic, huh? And what makes you think I’d put out?”

“I was just thinking it’s been a couple days and-”

“And of course you’re gonna get lucky, this week has been shit. I think we could both use to burn off some stress.” Miranda laughed as she tucked her blond locks behind her ears.

Danny let out a small laugh, “Good thing we both have off all weekend, I’d hate to have you answering questions about why you’re walking funny.” He smiled wickedly at his young partner.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. That new dildo I bought is fucking massive!” Miranda laughed playfully and smiled at Danny.

“I get it, you need to accessorize to actually get off and I have a tiny, tiiiiiny penis. Blah, blah blah.” Danny rolled his eyes.

The drive across Kennebrook usually took about 20 minutes but today it took half that as the pair seemed to hit every light green as they tooled down the divided four lane street littered with every imaginable chain store and restaurant. Quickly, the landscape of retail monotony transformed to tree-lined streets with large houses set back a safe distance from the relatively heavy traffic.

*********

Be sure to check back each day for another page of this fictional work in progress. 

A murder story - part four

Below is the fourth installment of a creative fiction story I began writing last November for NANOWRIMO. After writing the initial 8,000 or so words last year for a story I have given two possible titles (either Death by Murder, The Suburban Murders or as suggested in the comments Death by Suburbia) I'm all for more title suggestions, (feel free to suggest titles in the comments as the story unfolds). However, I personally think that the story, even though it sits unfinished, is beginning to develop. I can picture the two main characters -- co-workers who are also involved in a sexual relationship -- as they struggle with their own demons while investigating a string of violent murders which, initially, seem to have no connection until the killer begins to get rather brazen, almost taunting the team investigating the murders.

As I said, I have yet to finish this novel but I do have an outline of it and I am honestly seeking out your opinions on it.

Here goes, the fourth page is below for your reading pleasure... (read the first page of the story here, the second page of it here and the third page of it here)

********

“Classy, and yes. But I need a fork too and - shit, sold out. Could that mean?”

“Maybe the last one sold is our murder weapon?” Grove asked inquisitively.

“Maybe,” Kline slowly replied, “Maybe.” He slapped Grove lightly on her tight ass, “Let’s go ask the little old lady some questions.”

“Did you find what you were looking for, sir?” The cheerful lady asked.

“No,” Kline dryly responded, “you were all sold out of forks back there. I was wondering if you could recall who bought the last one. It may have been used in a murder.”

“And how much do you normally sell those forks for, the True Temper ones?” Grove quickly asked.

“Nice recall Miranda,” Kline offered in return, “I’ll hafta think how to reward you for a job well done.” Kline smirked as he was obviously thinking with his dick again.

“Nice.”

“Let me see,” the clerk thought aloud, “they are usually $17.98. Have been for a couple years now.”

“Shit, same price.” Kline muttered as he rubbed his right eye.

“We sold the last one yesterday, I think. Nice lady. She must have been about 30, maybe 35. Dressed way too nicely to be doing any gardening right away with it.”

“Do you remember what color hair she had?” Grove asked excitedly.

“Brunette. Very dark brown, almost black hair. Very pretty girl. Why do you ask?” The clerk’s curiosity obviously heightened by the officers’ questions. “Do you think she did it?”

“Probably not,” Kline replied, “She’s sorta got that fork through her gut. Thanks for your time ma’am. Oh, one more thing, could you ring up two bags of that spring lawn fertilizer you have on sale out front?”

“Seriously?” Grove asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “We’re kind of on duty...”

*********

Be sure to check back each day for another page of this fictional work in progress.

A murder story - part three

Below is the third sample of a creative fiction story I began writing last November for NANOWRIMO. After writing the initial 8,000 or so words last year for a story I have given two possible titles (either Death by Murder or The Suburban Murders), both of which are awful titles (feel free to suggest titles in the comments as the story unfolds). However, I personally think that the story, even though it sits unfinished, is beginning to develop. I can picture the two main characters -- co-workers who are also involved in a sexual relationship -- as they struggle with their own demons while investigating a string of violent murders which, initially, seem to have no connection until the killer begins to get rather brazen, almost taunting the team investigating the murders.

As I said, I have yet to finish this novel but I do have an outline of it and I am honestly seeking out your opinions on it.

Here goes, the third page is below for your reading pleasure... (read the first page of the story here and the second page of it here)

********

“Alright, alright. Jesus, mashed potatoes, mashed potatoes, mashed potatoes, mashed potatoes, mashed pota-”

“What the fuck is that?”

“My dad always said the best way to get rid of a raging boner fast is to think of something plain and boring, like mashed po-”

“Like mashed potatoes. God, you’re brilliant you silly fucker.”

“Well, my dad is apparently brilliant because it worked, see?” Kline held Miranda’s wrist as he playfully rubbed her hand against the crotch of his pants.

“Whatever,” Miranda laughed, “we’re here so try not to act as crazy as you really are.”

Lead Investigator Kline and Officer Grove opened the black Durango’s doors and hopped out.

“Nice day out. Plus this shit gets us out of the station.” Kline made mundane small talk as the pair walked to the door of the hardware store. “Look at that.” Officer Kline pointed to his right.

“What?” Grove asked with a bit of a furrowed brow as she turned toward her partner in the bright midday sun.

“What? Just a killer deal on spring lawn fertilizer, that’s what. $8.98 per bag. Remind me to grab a couple bags before we leave.”

“Whatever.”

Grove pulled the front door open and a bell rang. A short, older lady cheerfully greeted the pair “Hi, can I help you with something?”

Kline jutted his head in “Yeah, where are your forks at?”

“Aisle three, all the garden tools are down that way,” the cheerful lady pointed to the left.

“Aren’t we here to ask questions about the fork?” Grove asked impatiently as she adjusted her bra straps.

A murder story - part two

Below is the second sample of a creative fiction story I began writing last November for NANOWRIMO. After writing the initial 8,000 or so words last year for a story I have given two possible titles (either Death by Murder or The Suburban Murders), both of which are bad to poor titles. However, I personally think that the story, even though it sits unfinished, is beginning to develop. I can picture the two main characters -- co-workers who are also involved in a sexual relationship -- as they struggle with their own demons while investigating a string of violent murders which, initially, seem to have no connection until the killer begins to get rather brazen, almost taunting the team investigating the murders.

As I said, I have yet to finish this novel but I do have an outline of it and I am honestly seeking out your opinions on it.

Here goes, the second page is below for your reading pleasure... (read the first page of the story here)

********

Kline’s eyes widened, “Nice catch Grove, what’s the price on it?”

“Why does that matter?” Grove asked in a rather frustrated tone.

“I like to know the whole story dammit”, Kline shot back.

“Jesus, $17.98, you weird son of a bitch.”

“Fuck, good price too.”

Kline pondered the seemingly useless information for a moment as he stared out the home’s picture window overlooking the manicured landscaping and the exposed aggregate driveway.

“Come on Grove, let’s go check out this Wagner Hardware. See if they’ve sold any forks recently.”

As Lead Investigator Kline and Officer Grove made their way from the mundane neighborhood on the western reaches of Kennebrook to the city’s commercial district, Kline broke the tension in the truck “Why’d ya’ call me weird back there?”

“Come on, Danny, who really asks how much was paid for a murder weapon?”

As he moved his hand from the Dodge Durango’s gear shift to Officer Grove’s left thigh, he replied “You know how I like to have all the details Miranda.”

“Shit Danny, we’re at work, can you at least keep your hands to yourself until we’re off duty.”

“Fine, but I can’t help myself ‘cause I know what’s under that uniform. I remember what I saw this morning. You’re all business right now but I know just how fucking dirty you can be.”

Miranda quickly slugged Danny in the shoulder. Kline’s response was an innocent glance at his younger partner and the very fast removal of his hand from her thigh. “Try to focus, dumbass!” Miranda shot back playfully. “We’re trying to work here.”

“Shit, it’s not like we’re gonna break the case while we’re driving across town,” Danny said matter-of-factly.

“I know that but your pants look like there’s a fucking power pole in them and that Wagner Hardware store is just a couple blocks away. Try to get your mind back to work or people will start to think that violent murders get you off or something.”