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Authors: LS Sygnet

Tags: #secrets, #deception, #hate crime, #manifesto, #grisly murder, #religious delusions

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BOOK: The Chilling Spree
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These thoughts and deep seeded understanding
of my actions defy other knowledge that I have.  People always
have choices.  I made a decision to take matters into my own
hands.  Nobody forced me to kill.  But when I remember
that night, everything feels so different from what rationality
tells me happened. 

One minute Rick was threatening me. 
The next, my finger started squeezing.  Not because I wanted
to become a killer.  Not because I believed that the federal
government wouldn’t eventually make it’s case. 

There was a line in the dirt that night, a
line that Rick ignored.  I doubt he knew it was there after
ten years of marriage to a woman he thought was bland and
boring.  Something outside me squeezed the trigger on that
gun.  I know it as much as I know that I can’t live with the
temptation of crossing the line again because of my job.  It
happened before.  It will happen again.

That’s where the choice enters into the
equation.  I cannot remain in situations that will tempt me to
kill again.  That’s the bottom line.

I can live with the guilt, with the niggling
shame that I’ve lied to someone who means everything to me.  I
can do that, but only if I know beyond a shadow of doubt that
there’s an end in sight to temptation.  Only that will stop my
descent down the slippery slope.  Johnny is the anchor that
will pull me out of this genetic pre-destiny.  All I have to
do is hang on and never let go.

“You’re very quiet,” Johnny broke into my
thoughts.

“Just thinking about when I should speak
what’s on my mind.  We’ve bungled this case pretty badly with
the inability to compartmentalize until an appropriate time.”

“Tell me now,” Johnny said.

“I just wanted to say that for my entire
adult life, I’ve sort of been proud of the fact that I didn’t need
people.  Everything that came my way, I dealt with it.”

“I see.”

“No, you really don’t.”  I shoved his
hand into my coat pocket with mine.  “I need you,
Johnny.  I don’t want to do everything alone anymore.  I
should’ve never signed that stupid contract with Finkelstein last
fall.  But I’ll honor it, and I’ll get through the next few
months because I’ve got you.”

“Are we leaving Darkwater Bay when you’re
done working for Downey Division?”

I knew what he really wanted to hear me
say.  Strange place, this small corner of the world. 
Darkwater Bay was definitely changing me.  “I’ll be wherever
you are, Johnny.  Darkwater Bay, Montgomery, wherever your
life takes us.”

Johnny pulled over on the bridge to
Hennessey Island.  He tugged his hand free and cupped my face
between strong fingers.  “Doc, that’s not at all what I
expected you to say, but you just made me the happiest man
alive.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure that I love you.  Whatever comes
next for us, that’s never gonna change.  Let me talk to Shelly
when this case is done.  I’ll do everything in my power to put
an end to that contract now.  I don’t want your misery
prolonged for another day, Helen.”

“Hurry to Madden’s place,” I said.  “I
want this over now.”

“You got it, sweetheart.”

A sense of calm settled over me, warm but
foreign.  I’d never experienced such a feeling in all my
life.  Every time Dad left for work when I was a child, I
experienced the same sense of panic and unease that I felt every
day since his arrest.  Now, it was gone. 

Johnny pulled up beside an ostentatious
property on the island.  “This is it.  And he really
thinks nobody knows who the place belongs to?  Please.”

The home was a sprawling mansion built in
the Mediterranean villa style.  Lots of stucco, white columns
and a red tile roof that was unmistakable even in the pitch black
of night. 

“Do you think he’ll let us through the
gate?” I asked.

“We’ll soon find out.”  Johnny reached
through the open window and depressed the intercom
button. 

We waited.  And waited.

He started pounding on the damn thing.

“Yeah, yeah, what’s the big
emergency?”  The trademark musical growl crackled through the
speaker.

“Orion and Eriksson.  We need to speak
to you immediately, Mr. Madden.  There’s been a new
development in the investigation into your nephew’s murder.”

Madden didn’t respond.  The gate,
however, jerked and slowly opened.

“Not such a moron after all, is he?” Johnny
muttered.

Madden met us at the front door.  His
eyes looked ready to squirt blood from the dilated veins.  I
recalled Underwood’s assertion that Madden hadn’t really gone drug
free, simply switched to herbs that wouldn’t light up a tox screen
like a Christmas tree.

“Mr. Madden, are you all right?” I
asked.

He rubbed one eye.  “I
was
asleep.  What’s this all about?”  A little slur tainted
his speech.

“Are you stoned?”

Madden cursed softly.  “What’s the big
emergency, Commander Orion?  Have you found out who killed my
nephew?”  He paused, eyes roving from Johnny to me and back
again.  “Or is that why you’re here?  Someone convinced
you that I had something to do with Kylie’s murder.”

“Mr. Madden, are we here alone?” Johnny
asked.

“Does it look like I’ve been entertaining
guests?  Of course we’re here alone.”

“Scott,” I stepped forward and gripped his
arm.  “Let’s go sit down and talk.”

“You’re starting to freak me out. 
What’s going on?”

“When was the last time you saw Fulk
Underwood?” Johnny asked.

Confusion was quickly replaced by the dawn
of understanding.  “You thought I’d let that little shit into
my house?”

“Scott, please.  Let’s sit down and
talk.”

He nodded.  “All right, but before we
do, you need to understand that I haven’t liked him from day
one.  There’s a lot of shit I can control with the band, but
getting rid of his ass hasn’t been something I could ever wrest any
influence over.”

“I’d like to know how that arrangement came
to exist,” Johnny said.  He followed close behind Madden and
me into the gaudy living room. 

I sat beside Scott.  “Tell me what
unusual circumstance evolved that prevented you from firing someone
who has been a divisive force behind the scenes of your
business.”

“He… shit,” Madden muttered.  “There’s
no point in hiding the truth now.  Kylie is dead. 
Underwood can’t hurt my family anymore.”

“He threatened to expose your nephew’s
lifestyle to your fans.”

Madden nodded at Johnny.  “Frankly, I
wouldn’t have cared one little bit either way.  If people
wanna hate the band and be assholes because I love my family and
accept them for who they are, so be it.  Those aren’t the kind
of fans I want anyway.”

“But you were worried about Kylie,” I
said.

“He wasn’t even fourteen yet,
detective.  A lot of shit can change for a kid between that
age and adulthood.  I know it sure changed for me.”

“Excuse me?”

Madden looked up at Johnny.  “When I
was young, I went through some of the same shit Kylie did.  I
realized that a huge part of it was just wanting to get under
Theo’s skin.  You know, how outrageous could I be?  How
much would it embarrass him?  Turns out, Theo would’ve
defended me with his dying breath if need be.  If that’s who I
decided I’d really be.”

“Are you telling us that you’ve had…
experiences with men?” Johnny asked.

“It’s no crime,” he growled.  “I’d have
to say that I prefer women.  Then again, there are times when
I find myself seriously attracted to men.  I don’t live that
aspect of who I am in the public eye, but at the same time, I’ve
never disparaged anybody who does.”

“All right,” I said.  “And Underwood
knew this about you?”

“He figured it out,” he muttered.  “The
guy’s got some kind of sixth sense about such things.  He
already had something on our management company, weaseled out a
contract that literally prevented me from firing him for any
reason.  This guy is scum, Helen.  You have no idea the
shit he’s told other people about me.” 

Madden clenched his fists.  “What
really pisses me off is that people believe him.”

“What has he told Maverick about you?”
Johnny asked.

“I’m not sure what the story of the year
is.  It’s been everything from pedophilia to involuntary
manslaughter while driving under the influence.  I was
arrested for DUI a long time ago.  There was no death or
dismemberment involved.  It’s a matter of public record if you
don’t believe me.  Why these morons listen to him instead of
doing a little research on their own is beyond me.”

“Just to clarify your current religious
affiliation,” Johnny said, “would you mind telling me what it is
right now?”

“Probably what you’d call very liberal
Christian,” Madden said.  “It’s never gonna be good enough for
Theo unless I come back to the church.  I suppose I consider
my religious beliefs a private affair.  I’m not trying to
force them onto anyone.  I don’t even talk about them.  I
figure people have the right to live the way they want to. 
It’s none of my business.”

“So this Buddhist thing…”

He waved it aside.  “It was popular
with the fans.  I didn’t see the need to upset anybody, so
when I had my little religious awakening, that was that.  Of
course, Underwood probably has told the world it’s a cover for
Satan worship or some such nonsense.”

My curiosity was piqued beyond
control.  “When you say
liberal Christian
, what do you
mean exactly?”

“The good stuff in the bible,” he
said.  “The love and forgiveness parts.  The rest of that
claptrap isn’t worth the recycled paper it’s printed on if you ask
me – no offense to those who like the blood lust and vengeance shit
in the Old Testament.  It’s what turned me off to Christianity
in the first place.  How would that ever make somebody like me
comfortable?  Not only was I a very disobedient kid, I fooled
around with men sometimes.  Doesn’t that make me damned by
those standards?”

“It would, if someone devoutly believed it,”
I said. 

“Do you have any idea where we might find
Fulk Underwood?” Johnny asked.

Madden frowned.  “Isn’t he with
everyone else at the hotel?”

“No,” Johnny said.  “He was staying
with his half-sister in Downey.  She’s dead and we can’t find
good old Fulk.”

Madden gave Johnny a hard stare.  “He
killed Kylie, didn’t he?  You think he killed his sister
too.”

“You knew about Belle Conall?” I asked.

He snorted softly.  “The guy’s been
railing about the fact that she’s dead to him for the past three
years.  Apparently, he didn’t approve that she married some
closet faggot while he was out on tour with us.”

It was a link Johnny and I hadn’t once
considered.

Within minutes, we were in the car, Johnny
on the phone asking for a police presence outside Madden’s house
while I waited impatiently to ask the question burning the tip of
my tongue.  He disconnected the call.

“Where did Belle and Crevan get
married?”

“Foundation’s Baptist,” Johnny said
grimly.  “Guess that explains why Underwood felt it reasonable
to gut the uncle on the altar.  He didn’t pick up on Crevan’s
preferences either.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 37

Johnny didn’t argue.  Instead, he
flipped the police lights on in the Expedition and sped silently
through the city once again.  We’d been back and forth so many
times in the past few hours that I’d lost count.

Neither one of us spoke.  Somehow, the
motive for the murders of Kyle Goddard and Bobbi Tippet paled in
comparison for what Underwood seemed to be doing now.  He was
purging the family tree of its abominations.

The unspoken fear was that Crevan was in
grave danger, despite the police presence in his apartment
building.  I didn’t have to suggest why Crevan was in
danger. 

“If I find out that Maverick lied to us
about Underwood’s whereabouts, I’m charging him as an accessory
after the fact,” Johnny said.

“If you can arrest him before I rip his arm
off and beat him to death with it.”

“Helen, I seriously hope that’s fear and
frustration talking.”

“Yes and no.”  He figured it out
anyway.  I’m Wendell’s daughter.  “You know how I feel
about Crevan, Johnny.  If these guys hampered our
investigation and anything happened to him –”

“We’d know.  There were six cops over
there, Helen.  Crevan is going to be fine.”

“Don’t lie to me.  You’re as worried as
I am.”

The words weren’t even out of my mouth yet
before Johnny punched redial on his cell phone.  It rolled
immediately into Crevan’s voice mail.  “Fuck it,” he muttered
and dialed a different number.

“Shelly, it’s Johnny.  I need more
officers over at Crevan’s apartment.”

“Why?  I had more than enough over
there earlier.”


Had
?” I nearly choked on panic.

“Helen, is that you?”

“Shelly, Crevan is in danger.  Please
tell me that you didn’t send everyone home.”

“I left two guys outside the building. 
In case you’ve forgotten, we had a major crime committed
tonight.  I need all hands on deck.”

Johnny hung up on her and called OSI. 
Apparently he really was done messing around with everyone. 
“We’ll be there in fifteen, twenty minutes tops.  I want the
building secured and a search initiated.  Every apartment,
every closet, every nook and cranny where someone might hide. 
I want a perimeter set up a mile around the place.  No one in
or out without being identified and giving their reason for being
in the neighborhood.  If you see Underwood, arrest him on
sight.”

“Hurry, Johnny.”

I couldn’t explain it.  My heart filled
with a terror not my own this time.  It was the oddest
sensation.  Crevan was in trouble – I knew it without
proof.  He needed us now, not in twenty minutes.

BOOK: The Chilling Spree
13.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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