Reads: 1705  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 175

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 4 (v.1)

Submitted: May 06, 2007

Reads: 214

Comments: 20

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 06, 2007





Dennis Kane's heart immediately dropped when he heard there was a possible fourth victim. It stung like a viscous swarm of angry bees. As professionally as he could manage, he began giving orders to the other officers in a loud, crisp voice. The instant he finished, uniforms of black scurried quickly throughout the halls. A few men remained on the top floor while the remaining officers hurried towards the steps to begin their search on the first floor.

It wasn't long before the twelve year olds bedroom was located. Four doors down on the right, Kane walked into another amazingly spotless room.

"In here!" Kane yelled.

Clearly belonging to a twelve year old, he immediately glanced around the room. It was noticeably larger than the younger girls room and was decorated in several tones of purple. The carpet was colored as well as the lace-trimmed curtains that perfectly hung on more than one window. The bedspread was some crazy shade of lilac he noticed, and the wallpaper was a forest of lavender colored flowers, scattered in a showy arrangement. Mounted overtop in a neatly arranged mirage, were professionally-framed posters of different shapes and sizes; several of which were clearly 'Brad Pitt.' What is it with Brad Pitt? he wondered. Hell, even my five-year old granddaughter loves him! The large four poster bed--which could easily occupy four, twelve year olds--was neatly made, and to him it was evident no one had slept on it recently.

"Find anything?" Wallace asked walking through the door.

"No. I haven't touched anything yet sir, just looking for anything visible at the moment."

"See anything?"

"Not yet sir. Its as clean as the last one. Doesn't even look like anyone uses it. It just looks...too arranged sir."

"I know what you mean." Wallace said. A slight chill raced up his spine.

Chad Allen stood in the open doorway of Nicole's room. Silently he watched while the two officers meticulously searched the room and dusted for fingerprints. Clearly he was nearing shock at what had recently taken place. Who in the hell could do something so horrific...and why? And where in God's name was Nicole? His face was paled and his skin had a shine to it where sweat was beginning to seep. Cop or no cop he thought, this was too close to home and he was unable to walk into the room and once again offer his help. He turned away from Wallace and Kane's backside and continued walking down the long hallway silently praying Nicole would be found safe and unharmed.

Where are you Nic?

"There's not a damn thing in this room!" Wallace cursed. "Not even a speck of dust." He smacked his open hand onto the desk causing Kane to jump from the loud connection.

"No sir there's not. Guess we'll know more when we get the fingerprint analysis back sir."

"Yeah." Wallace huffed and stomped out of the room.

"You coming?" Officer Kane knew it wasn't a question.

"Yes sir." He said then followed Wallace through the open doorway.

At the bottom of the stairs they were met by Tom Maysfield, who along with Tony Miller, was carrying the last of the three victims in a body bag through the empty hallway.

"Here." The M.E. handed Kane his side of the body bag. "Take this out to the car and place it with the other two."

"Yes, sir." As obedient as a well trained Doberman, Kane took the offered end of the body bag and did exactly as he was told, leaving the two men to talk in private.

"And when your finished with that you and Miller begin a search of the grounds. Dead or alive I want that girl found! Oh and find that Allen guy...we could use his help now." Wallace added.

"I saw him walking across the field a little while ago...when we were bringing the first body out." Miller's voice was still noticeably shaky.

"Great...just fucking great!"

"It doesn't make sense." Maysfield said shaking his head.

"It makes perfect sense...the son of a bitch went home!" Wallace wheeled around to face him.

"I'm not talking about that. Besides you told the guy more than once you didn't need his help. Probably went home so he wasn't in the way."

"He likes being in the way!" Wallace said sarcastically. As though he just remembered the statement he asked, "What doesn't make sense?"

"The whole damn crime scene. Its like we have three different murders that just happened to take place in this...this house. Think about it Mike, We have a female victim dead from an apparent self inflicted gunshot wound, we have a male victim dead from several gunshot wounds and stab wounds and we have a little girl that as of this minute only God knows how died. If it wasn't for that little girl I could believe it was domestic. And where in the hell is the other girl. What's her name?...Nicole?"


"Where the hell is she? If she's dead you would think she would be in the house somewhere, that's where the rest of them were. Why would she be any different unless...unless she's the one who killed them all."

"I don't buy that Tom. Jesus Christ...hello...remember the body?"

"Sorry man," He apologized. "Your right, no twelve year old could be capable of that kind of violence."

It was several hours before the entire place was searched with a fine-tooth comb.

There was no sign of the twelve year old girl.

"There's not much more we can do here." Wallace finally suggested. "Let's secure the area." He said and immediately began giving orders.

"Miller, you and Kane stay here and guard the place. I don't so much as want a goddamn field mouse inside that front door! You got it? And the rest of you, I want you back at the station doing your paperwork. What little evidence we have we need taken to the lab for analysis. Well, don't just stand there with your hands up your ass get moving!" He ordered.

Tom Maysfield secured an arm around Wallace's shoulder and carefully nudged him towards his car.

"I hate to say it but you've got a big city crime going on here Wallace, and in this small town you just don't have the manpower your going to need."

"This may be a small town but I assure you I am no small town cop. There's never been a case I couldn't solve and I damn sure won't let this be the first. I can promise you that."

"I hope your right." Tom said. "What are you going to do now?"

"First off I'm going to pay Chad Wallace a visit. He knows these people, maybe he can tell me more about them, tell me what kind of people they were. He also said there was a break in a while back. I want to find out about that too, see if they were caught, who they were, why they broke in the first place, see if anything was taken. Then after that, well I guess I'll go back to the station and get busy sorting this mess out."

"Good Luck." Tom said opening his car door. "I have my own work to do. I'll let you know the moment I find out the exact cause of deaths."

"Thanks Tom." Wallace extended his hand where Tom immediately shook it.

After everyone was gone except for Officer's Kane and Miller--who were left to guard the property--Wallace got into his own car and drove off into the night, towards Chad Allen's place.

It didn't take long to find what he was looking for. Directly in the path of his headlights the name 'Allen' was clearly posted on a mailbox directly across the street from the Greysen's.

The driveway was gravel and from what he could see in the beam of light was well maintained. The drive was rather lengthy and after snaking his way through numerous dangerous curves he finally came to a rest in front of an old two story farm house. Bright lights lit up a good portion of the oversized porch. It wasn't nearly as spectacular as the Greysen place but it was nice none the less. It was a fairly large home and it was obvious it came with several acres of land and forest. It sparkled white in the porch light and from what he could see, appeared to be well kept. Stepping up onto the porch Wallace extended a hand and pressed the doorbell, instantly hearing the chime behind the closed door.

He had lost count the number of times he had pressed on the doorbell before he finally gave up and concluded that Chad Allen was either a very heavy sleeper or he hadn't came home yet.

If he hadn't come home yet then where the hell was he? He silently wondered.

Mike Wallace got back into his car and drove back to the police station in silence.

Safely inside the police station, he walked directly to the small break room--consisting of nothing more than a coffee pot, a microwave, a small refrigerator and two sets of tables and chairs--and poured himself a cup of steaming black coffee. Taking his coffee back to the privacy of his own office, he sat down at his desk and raked his fingers through balding copper, releasing a breath of disgust. He took a sip of the steaming liquid. He noticed the white envelope laying on a stack of files the moment he set his cup down.

Slightly hesitant at first he reached for the envelope, then at once remembered Erin was getting married next month. Probably an invitation.

He opened the envelope and pulled out the card that was inside. The instant he opened it, he stood utterly paralyzed. His blood boiled and his heart began beating frantically. He read the words a second time...


He knew whoever wrote this was talking about Nicole.

© Copyright 2017 auerrotts. All rights reserved.


Add Your Comments:










More Mystery and Crime Books

Booksie 2017-2018 Short Story Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by auerrotts

Forgotten Sins

Book / Horror

Laurel Ridge

Book / Mystery and Crime


Book / Mystery and Crime

Popular Tags