Murders in a Small Town: A Psychological Thriller

By Rome

Trapped in a quagmire of uncertainty over his missing daughter, Sheriff Jack Hodgson learns of the brutal killing of a young woman whose badly decomposed body is found in the river. Shocked at the manner of the killing, the Sheriff investigates only to uncover more shocking murders at its helm.

As the body count starts to grow, an old murder case draws at the possibility that an innocent person had been hung for the Hendricks murders. Sheriff Hodgson tracks the murderer down but when more people turn up missing, the Sheriff comes to realize that the serial killer was not responsible for all the killing sprees. Loaded with suspense, some romance and a good deal of plots and twists.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rome
• Release date: Jul 22, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466111899

Rome

Rome now lives in the United States where her passion for justice and civil liberties comes forth through writing that she hopes conveys the complexity of the human mind in all its most variant forms.

Book preview

MURDERS IN A SMALL TOWN

By Rome

Copyright 2011 Rome

First Edition: July 2011

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people or reproduced and stored in any other way. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

The characters and events in this book are purely fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by author.

CHAPTER 1: ON THE RUN

Wretched darkness! Where are the damn street lamps?

Maggie could only swear miserably when she drove her car on the unfamiliar road. She never remembered moving through these parts ever. No one spoke about the land and now, it was strangely a place she was looking for cover.

She peered through the darkness hoping for a gas station in sight. If she could only gain access to some phone, it would save her a great deal of hassle but she could barely make out anything in the pitch darkness, just shadows that boasted the remnants of what seemed to be a haunted town. The only place she knew for sure that bore some semblance of civilization was still miles away.

Now, just which way is the right way? she paused hesitantly then without a fleeting moment, ventured into what seemed to be rocky terrain.

The rocky bumps were damning enough but it was the painful gash on her arm that drew her immediate attention. The pain in her arm had begun to throb severely now and for a brash moment, she remembered the powerful hand that almost wrapped its hold around her. She had never felt that much strength used on her before, and she knew that if she did not push him off, he would have left an even deeper wound than the three inch gash that now marked her arm. She bit her lip feeling the gnawing pain pulse within her. The wound was open and unattended to but finding safety seemed so crucial now. She was quite sure she could live with the pain a little more.

Wish there was water at least, she groaned as her hand drew on the already emptied water bottle she kept as a spare then threw the bottle down with a vigor that was more of frustration than anger.

She remembered the killer’s face clearly. Strangely, he was handsome; his face almost chiseled like a Roman God’s but then the violence that emanated from him was startling. He was ruthless and brash, almost stupid sometimes, she thought. And for some reason, he seemed intent on getting Saba’s writings. What papers did he bloody hell want? She couldn’t guess. Saba never told her everything but she knew he was locked up in the basement study doing something. Writing she thought but she never asked him. He always seemed so pensive when it came to serious talk.

Her eyes again trailed nervously through the darkness, sizing constantly the sudden intrusions of the handsome trench coat killer and his cronies. The least she needed was making poor decisions that would send her trailing back to her ruthless captors. She knew they would be looking for her but she was not going to be afraid. She had escaped and now, all she had to do was steer her way out of trouble and away from this wretched land. Safety meant being in Cranshaw, back to the world she called home.

Mustering all the courage she had, she astutely steered the car onwards and then something made her smile. She saw the shadowy impressions of houses…a line of houses which breathed into view…lonely, little houses which gave her some sense of victory that perhaps help was just round the corner but where were the people? She could see no one in sight just empty houses that once saw life and none any more now. She sighed feeling her heart skip a sudden beat. She hated when it did that then stared into the solitary darkness, afraid.

Surely, there would be a stop that could get her some help? She knew she had to stop soon. The gas was already running low and the nearest gas pump seemed nowhere in sight, almost miles away actually. Maggie heaved, feeling the sticky beads of perspiration as the damp humid flavor of the sweltering night rubbed her down, hard and mercilessly.

She knew it was a bad idea coming to this side of town. Maybe, she should have just listened to her mother but she remembered something else her mother told her to do in the hours of need. Use good old fashioned intuition to counteract the unknown and that she would do. She yanked up the engine a little more feeling a surge of courage burst within her as she stumbled at the steering wheel and not before generously mouthing the curse words for the little light she got from the clouds. It was fast being masked by the thick blanket of the night drawing its cape too surely on her. They really needed those street lamps alright!

Where’s everybody gone? she stammered feeling helpless now.

Her gut feeling told her the killer had already lured her to unfamiliar terrain. Maybe, he wanted to kill and dump her where she would never be found? Just a digit to add to the list of girls gone missing. She shuddered at the manner in which her mind raged on the most unimaginative. It was funny how one could suddenly conjure up the most hideous thoughts when the adrenaline flow surges out of control and when nothing else mattered but saving your life.

Oh Maggie, she cried out, You are not doing enough keeping your hopes up high to survive now are you? She pinched herself hard.

The least she needed was negativity riding up high in her and Maggie Geraldine Hodgson decided there was too much of life waiting for her. She would never yield to defeat no matter the odds and she had to create an illusion of protective defense against that mad man after her if that made any sense at all! From a distance, Maggie gauged her new surroundings astutely but there was nothing that elevated her sense of certainty that someone would even help her get out of the forgotten country.

Nearby, the vines and wild weeds grew like hideous shapes in the grim darkness and the decayed bramble bushes seemed to snug by the heavy moss matter that viciously masked the homes. The houses lay side by side, unkempt and unloved, a searing testament to the dysfunctional lives that once lay within them. This was no fun ground and no fun at all with a killer in pursuit of her. She decided the left turn would possibly course her to safety and she moved, silently and fearfully into the haunted street wishing for some dratted street light to light her way ahead.

Maggie twitched again feeling the pain in her arm. She had already lost substantial blood and now it was making her heady and lightheaded, not a good idea when you needed to keep your eyes focused and your mind, ready for a possible onslaught that could happen without warning. Surely, there would be a stop she could make? Gas was running incredibly low already.

She hadn’t traveled far when she thought she saw a shadowy figure rush by and edge up towards her car, waving desperately. Maggie wondered if she should just drive on by. The figure stood much too far away and the thick fog of night provided no relief even when she set off her head lamps with a bright glare. Her terrified eyes flitted for a second through the light that engaged the darkness, deciphering the stage of the night scene possibly common in this soulless place. Her attention now gathered on the street she was on and the figure that seemed to loom mysteriously close to her.

Fear was rapidly consuming Maggie and the thought of the heavy set killer in his dark leather trench coat with the knife edged up to her neck, mortified the eighteen year old. Should she drive straight through or stop? She could see the person edging towards her mighty fast. Quickly, she increased the speed to a hastening grip on the gas pedal. Maggie was not going to stop. There was no one to trust out here and she pushed her car forward lunging it through the street with a sudden force that propelled it to fast forward. Stop signs were ignored and traffic lights made no sense at this time. Maggie, the uncertain driver, now coursed through the streets like a vigilante turning into Park View with a new found purpose.

It was perhaps the most unfortunate turn for the girl when another figure caped in black and with a hood suddenly dashed before her drawing her to a screeching halt. She froze at the sight of the figure holding her car down with a bang. Quickly, Maggie raised the glass windows wanting to seal off any opportunity for entry as the caped figure advanced closer but her eyes could hardly mask her surprise. It was a woman and she was pretty, almost vulnerable when she drew a desperate cough that told Maggie she was in need of help as well.

Help me! Hurry up…let me in! Open the door – there’s someone out there and I need a lift home right now, she urged pleading and drawing another cough much louder than the first. Please, you are my only chance. You got to help me. There is a mad man after me.

Maggie looked up, quite shocked now. The killer had gotten close then, and here was another woman like her, running from trouble! Being the good Samaritan she was, she let the stranger into the car.

Hop in quick, she sounded urgently as the woman quickly grabbed at the invitation.

Ahhh…Volkswagen, the people’s car, she sounded in approval as she slid in, her accent somewhat lilted, almost foreign. Maggie knew she was not from Cranshaw and certainly had no business being where she was.

Where do you live? asked Maggie as she awaited instructions, I am not sure of these roads but I can get us to safe grounds shortly I hope, she assured with an encouraging smile as she steered her way ahead. There was something unnatural about the manner the woman settled in though. She now seemed to retain a cold and unfriendly manner. Maggie looked at her unsurely.

Oh, that’s a really bad cut! We do not need your hand bleeding off this crazy missy do we? she declared masking the unfriendly manner she had seconds ago displayed. Maggie watched unsurely as the stranger rapidly drew a scarf from within her coat and wrapped it around Maggie’s bloody arm. Now, that should keep this bleeding under control…here, drive straight through and to the left on Barkley Rd, she instructed firmly as she pointed her hand towards the front then turned to face the surprised girl, mouth pouting and eyes almost bewitching when she growled her no nonsense instructions.

Don’t waste my time, not a second more girl! she declared suddenly as she noted Maggie’s quivering countenance drawn upon her.

Speechless now, Maggie followed her directions, then turned hesitantly to the woman wanting some questions answered. Maybe, she was just afraid like her. People always acted in the strangest way when they were tested.

Please do not be afraid.

The woman laughed aloud, tickled by Maggie’s simple mindedness.

My dear girl, it is you who should be bloody well afraid!

With deliberate poise, the woman took out a pocket knife from her purse and etched it towards Maggie. Maggie looked at the object in horror. Again, another knife wielding assailant! What was the world coming to?

Do as I say and you will be safe. This will tell you are in some bloody mess girl! she declared almost slurring her words through and this time, she nudged Maggie with the knife.

Shocked and tired, Maggie forced the gas onto the pedal and made her way as instructed, the knife edged up too menacingly close to her. What did the woman possibly want with her and why couldn’t she have placed her instincts correctly? Maggie eyed her from the side, stealing a glance when the occasion arose. The woman had already let down her cape and Maggie watched as blonde tresses flowed down masking a beautiful face etched with nothing but the countenance of a forthright and cold woman bearing her own agenda at stake. And she wore no makeup too.

Probably never needed to, thought Maggie glumly as the gnawing pain of the wound drew her attention back to her miserable condition.

Seemingly aware of her victim’s prying eyes, the blonde glared impatiently at Maggie and ruffled her directing the young woman’s attention to the wheel. Maggie watched her captor with some disdain and then the strangest thing happened. The woman drew a face at Maggie and began tracing the knife’s serrated edges on her own white skin. Maggie could see little beads of blood where tiny searing marks began their impressions in the most unbecoming way.

Why are you hurting yourself? Maggie pounded sarcastically, her stomach twisting in knots. A mad woman perhaps?

The blonde only laughed eerily, her lips parted to a knowing and gleeful smile as she inched closer to Maggie, the brunt of the knife now teasing mercilessly below Maggie’s chin.

What do you want? Maggie whispered hoarsely, her body rigid, her eyes glazed on a road that told nothing. In the pitch darkness, she could see little but the smell of fear that seemed to leave a permanent scent in the air.

Her companion laughed then relaxed back into her own seat, brushing off the crusted beads of blood that had now coagulated onto her skin then kissed herself where the blood seemed to have dried. Unable to stifle a girlish giggle, she now settled comfortably in the seat, releasing her coat that drew out her long beautiful hands, hands which highlighted a state of refinement she was usually accustomed to. This was a woman with class and judging by her snotty airs, probably never cared much to what others thought about her. Maggie bit her lip. The golden rule of never bringing strangers into your fold seemed so true now and she wished she hadn’t allowed the woman in. The blonde was too decidedly sure and too cold as if she were ready for something more. Maggie looked ahead but only darkness prevailed.

This is so unreal, she thought moodily.

She had not expected the sudden course of events to be this bizarre. A little excursion to her favorite site had brought nothing but mayhem. And why wouldn’t this woman talk at all? What was she hiding?

Barkley Road came into full swing soon enough, a road that promised nothing but more wasteland ahead. Maggie numbly took the left she needed on Barkley Road. She could see no houses anymore just a long stony trail that led her to more darkness and more uncertainty. How she hated the dark!

She looked ahead then pivoted her attention to the side where her new captor now sat straddled and feeling quite comfortable. She returned her gaze but there was nothing assuring about the eyes that glared back at her and Maggie sighed, worried as ever.

Stay focused you hear me?

It was a growl to elicit her obedience, a wolfish sort of command that sent chills down Maggie’s spine and she continued obediently driving down a straight rocky lane and wondering where it all led to.

All this while, she felt the sharp edge of the knife nudging her again and again, teasing her in a manner intended to annoy her. She wondered if anyone ever loved the blond woman with the cold blue eyes not that she cared.

I guess not, she thought moodily and continued her way almost chugging her car on rocky gravels until the woman barked her command again.

Stop here! she ordered as she hit the steering wheel with the sharp end of the knife several times.

Maggie reduced speed as she sized her surroundings. The sounds of nature’s night creatures were in the works. On both sides of the road, trees showered their unearthly presence swaying a little with the wind passing by as owls hooted their loud calls not so eloquently. The night now spelled an ominous note that Maggie refused to dispel. Where on earth were they?

Stop here I said! commanded the blonde woman again.

Maggie hesitated then stopped the car. All throughout the ride, the woman refused to speak or say anything, and each time Maggie cajoled her into a conversation, she would simply return her stare with expressions that told nothing. She looked at the time on her watch and knew her mother was going to sound the red alert if she did not get back on time. There would be people looking for her. She knew that but where would they start?

No where, she thought glumly. In fact, she couldn’t remember the road they turned into and she had never driven this far. Figures shifted in the darkness. Maggie scrutinized her eyes to catch the shapes that emerged from the woods. She could see tall people walking, people with coats and then the familiar trench coat figure walked into full view, the light from the torch flickering up and lighting his face – the rude and angry face she remembered only hours ago. She had been tricked!

She looked at the blonde woman but she only sounded a hoarse laugh that made her less perfect now in view.

Get out of the car! she sounded, her words reverberating loud and clear and in the darkness, Maggie felt really afraid. They were going to kill her for something Saba had done! But why?

Hey Maggie! someone called and she turned around but she found darkness clouding her mind and the sharp pain that stung her from the back of her head was nerve shattering. She remembered nothing when she took her fall to the ground. And here in this strange place, locked with a knife wielding woman, Maggie Hodgson surrendered to the grim darkness that engulfed her.

Miles away, Rachel Hodgson ended the call with growing fear. Maggie had not made any calls to keep her informed the whole evening she was out and this was not natural of Maggie. The one call that was left on voicemail at about 8 pm spoke of no urgency and that she would be back within the hour. When Maggie did not return, Rachel attributed the lateness to possible traffic backups but little did she suspect the unusual. Rachel’s requests to her daughter had been to constantly advise her of any activities that deviated from the routine and Maggie respected her mother’s instructions. The call to Maggie’s best friend, Irma, however triggered off grim possibilities that her daughter could be in trouble. Irma had informed Rachel of Maggie’s plans to seek a drive down to the west side where she could spend some time on her nature studies exploring the migratory birds which enriched the local area.

Rachel sighed. She was distressed. A budding naturalist, Maggie had chosen an area that was void of humanity. The other side of town was simply taboo and although Rachel had many times sounded her disapproval on the area, she had never explicitly asked her daughter to keep off the unspoken land.

She reached out and made the most difficult call she could muster…to a husband she had not spoken to for a long, long time.

CHAPTER 2: MAGGIE'S MISSING

Jack wrestled his sleepy eyes to catch the ungodly time of the call when the phone let out its second loud shrill. He groaned hard wishing the call would just go away and that the caller had maybe, punched the wrong number in error. It was only a couple of hours ago that he was in the station, talking to a little boy accused of killing his mother and he remembered the boy staring up at him each time he asked a question. Truly, he couldn’t quite comprehend the state of mind of the child when he did the killing and yet when he stared, Jack could only see cold, beady eyes that peered at him through a sullen pocked face. A cold blooded killer who slew the axe down and dismembered his parents at the limbs. And for all his thirty years of service to the community as the local town sheriff, Jack could not quite comprehend the frame of mind of that child when he did the killing.

The ring again sounded, breaking his thoughts. This time, his eyes drew a little more open as he squinted hard at the clock. The hour of 2.37 am was indeed an unreasonable time to have drawn him away from his sleep considering what he had been through only hours ago with a child bearing the works of Satan in his blood. He wished whoever was calling at the other end, was going to make a reasonably good explanation for waking him up from his tired sleep because if they didn’t, Jack was planning to holler them down. He reached for the third shrill ring and mouthed his Hello gruffly. Darn angry he was!

Hello? he hissed, his eyes wide open.

And the voice he heard chimed through the phone not with spite and disassociation but with fear and intensity. Little did Jack realize it was going to be a call that would echo moments of his past all over again.

He peered over Grace sleeping close by hoping she wouldn’t wake and took his call feeling a little anticipation rise within him, hearing the voice he knew not so long ago.

Rachel? he quivered sitting up now, What’s wrong? Jack knew that the only reason Rachel would make such a call would have to concern Maggie.

Rachel? he quibbled again. Why wouldn’t she speak?

Rachel closed her eyes. It was the voice she knew so well. It was Jack. Tears welled more than she could contain and she simply let the little beads of salty water stream down her face. There was no holding back. The hours of not having him close and his total dedication to work and the force simply angered her that he would shirk responsibility and love to his family. She fought the divorce and got it. Now, the only manner she distanced from him was to create a barrier with him and since his marriage to Grace Reinhold, she had developed complete resistance to even accepting that he ever existed in her life. The power of the mind. But today, it gave way to emotional discord and dismay. Think of Maggie, she reminded herself as Jack pierced through his telling voice of shock and concern again.

Rachel, what’s wrong? sounded Jack and this time he was filled with concern. Rachel never cried nor did she use tears in any way to solicit attention. Rachel, dear old Rachel. The sweet Rachel he knew all his young life. He knew something was wrong and his thoughts stirred on Maggie. It had to be about Maggie.

Jack, it’s Maggie. She has not come home, she sounded finally.

Jack sat on his bed knowing full well Grace would be up to join him. She was already catching his vibes. It wouldn’t be long.

Not home. Where is she? he prodded, concerned.

She went out on one of her nature walks but hasn’t come home. Jack, it is so unlike Maggie to do this. I thought I should wait but it is close to 3 am in the morning and she is not home yet. Can you get someone to check on her? I cannot think of where she could get herself to, pleaded Rachel. Her sobs, uncontrolled now, Rachel bit through her words decidedly hard then sounded Is Nancy asleep?

Yeah, she is. It is almost 3 am Rachel….now, what time did Maggie say she’d be back? Did she give any ideas where she’d be? reminded Jack.

Over at the west side…I suspect near the lake area where the birds flock together. Irma said she likes to take a spot near the old shack, Rachel recalled and she knew Jack would mouth his dissatisfaction with the answer. The west side was not a place for a young girl of eighteen and one as sweet and innocent as Maggie.

Grace seemed to have stirred her way out of her sleep for she rose immediately the minute the name Rachel sounded. That name was trouble for Jack Hodgson.

Jack? she uttered sleepily What’s wrong? she sounded gently as she placed her hand on his shoulder directing his attention towards her. She needed to see Jack’s face clearly. Jack was a tough sheriff and managed the local station in Cranshaw but he was also her husband. It was a job Rachel fared poorly at but Grace knew he reached out to her well in heart and mind. She placed her loving hands on her husband’s face with Rachel at the mouthpiece awaiting the other end.

Tell me Jack, what’s wrong? she cajoled gently, brushing her hands gently over his face, an act which Jack loved and enjoyed. Grace knew how to make him feel good even in the hardest of times. Rachel did not.

Rachel Freeman winced. She could sense Grace was in the making again.

Jack, for Maggie’s sake, get someone there or if you can’t do that, Maggie has a mother at the very least. I am going there. You can meet me if you care to.

Jack heard a click and the dial tone. Rachel had hung up and ended their call.

Grace, I got to go and find Maggie. She’s not home yet, Jack stated, placing her arms down as he arose to dress.

Maggie? What’s wrong? she asked gently, eyes pivoted at her husband.

Maggie was a good child, not as smart as Nancy but a girl governed by goodness and a lover of nature. Grace was told she wanted to be a naturalist one day and was working on her little study of birds as a project for the school she attended. Nancy on the other hand was planning to be a no nonsense lawyer.

She’s gone to the west side and has not returned. Rachel’s making her way there and I had better go check and make sure they are both fine.

You will come home once they are back? she reminded rubbing her little tummy and reminding him of the little one who was growing within her. Jack smiled and reached out to touch her tummy. You will be sure of that, honey. Just want them safe.

He kissed her belly and made his way to the door.

Jack?

He turned to face her. She could see the lines of worry forming on his handsome face, the signs of wear and tear that were taking a toll on his chiseled face and lovely facial bone structure.

Please do not stay too long, she asked, gently laying her cards down with affirmation.

He nodded once. He knew Grace. Her voice spoke a plea which he heard.

I will be back I promise. It’s about Maggie. Maggie is my priority and she is my daughter. I got to see what’s wrong. And he left taking the hat without turning back to say a single goodbye.

The drive towards West Side was not pleasant for Rachel. She was not sure what she’d expect from the West Siders. She had read the local paper’s report about the Davidson boy’s meeting with the clan over at West Side and learnt about the terrible beating he got just talking back against them. For one thing, Rachel thought he had done poorly ridiculing people in their own terrain! Bad thing to do, she reckoned and she had told her daughters never to venture into foreign areas without permission. So many times she had said her mind but Maggie had defied many times more. Irma had told her so. She really hoped Jack was already on his way to find Maggie. It would be nice to have his company.

Her thoughts hinged on Jack, a guilty feeling that left her unhappy now. His name almost sounded like a whisper on her lips. She had heard about Grace’s pregnancy and she was happy. Jack had a chance to do it all again. Fatherhood was always an occasion that seemed to merit his attention but he was never there for their daughters’ birthday parties. Not even when they turned one. So engrossed was Jack in finding killers, solving crimes and abating household violence that he had sacrificed precious time with his daughters. Didn’t he know these were times one never lost in life…that you could never have again? Why couldn’t he understand that?

She looked ahead, shaking all the monstrous thoughts that ran through her mind so suddenly then turned on her lights even stronger. She needed the light to show the way. Soon morning would come but she hoped fervently that the morning would draw her Maggie close to home.

She drove steadily until the turn took her to the edge of the road that met the misdirected and poorly developed area they called the West Side. She hadn’t driven this close for a long time and had she known about Maggie’s trip, she would have discouraged her daughter intensely but neither Irma nor Maggie had ever mentioned their little nature escapades. If they had, she would have told them the West Side was a story no one spoke about in Cranshaw and while Rachel had told her daughter that it was not a good place to go to, she never explained to her teenage daughter the dangers which lay in this crummy part of their beautiful town.

She glanced all around hoping no one would come bother her. The last she wanted to speculate on was to confront someone with a gun. She was not ready for a gunfight nor was she ready to face an unfriendly West Sider. Another ten minutes and she was off on the highway and away from the derelict place. Her thoughts strayed to her daughters. She knew that it was Nancy, Maggie’s twin, who bore her steely determination and fighting spirit. Maggie was Jack’s child.