The Hitchcock Killer: The Second Jake Rhodes Mystery by Winslow Swan

By Winslow Swan

Jake Rhodes, private investigator is back along with his secretary now partner, Kira Winegood, and police detective Adam Lawrence. In this, his second mystery, Jake is being set up for a series of murders that have an unusual twist. As the clues, and the bodies, pile up, Jake finds himself in vortex of madness and death. Set once again in Atlanta, Georgia, Jake must find and the killer and clear his name before the killer ultimately finds him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Winslow Swan
• Release date: Oct 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370325511

Winslow Swan

Born and raised in Atlanta, Ga, I grew up surrounded by mystery and suspense, in book form. I also grew up listening not only to the great old radio horror shows but also heard the original run of the CBS Radio Mystery Theater. I contribute them for my imagination of horror and suspense. My favorite authors at the time were of course Stephen King, Dean Koontz, and Edgar Allen Poe. I now live in the North Georgia mountains where I am currently producing (with my best friend Crimson McKenzie) writing, directing, and appearing in a full cast audio series of horror, mystery, and suspense (with a few laughs along the way) titled "Doorway To Nightmare" on YouTube. (Check the channel out. 43 episodes with many more to come) Writing can, at times, become arduous and trying to find the quiet time to actually get my thoughts and stories down can sometimes be quite straining. However, I continue to do what I can to trouble the dreams of the reader.I find myself to be one of the few who have fulfilled all of their dreams. I have worked in both radio and television, as an actor and a writer, and have also appeared on stage. I have made two films (which shall both never see the light of day) and am now concentrating on a writing as a career.

Book preview

THE HITCHCOCK KILLER

THE SECOND JAKE RHODES MYSTERY

By Winslow Swan

Published by Winslow Swan

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2016 by Winslow Swan

Other Works by this Author

Toppling Over The Edge

The Convincer

Feather Brained

No One Is Afraid Of Monsters Anymore (and other stories to read to the thing under the bed)

More Stories To Read To The Thing Under The Bed

Do Not Read This Book

Click (a tale of revenge)

The Suicide Killers: The First Jake Rhodes Mystery

Available at www.smashwords.com/profile/view/winslowswan

www.facebook.com/winslowswanauthor

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. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are 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

All names and firms depicted in this novel have been completely fabricated by the author’s own imagination. Any similarity to persons, places, or locations is purely coincidental and should not be inferred.

FORWARD

Hello again, dear reader. I have returned to my trusty (and old) laptop computer to pen another in what I hope is an enjoyable novel. Again, I can assure you that this is another book in which there are no lurking monsters creeping under the bed, no strange apparitions inhabiting the closet, and no demons awaiting to take a particularly nasty character to the darkest depths of hell.

I can promise that there is murder galore for our intrepid hero, Jake Rhodes.

The one thing that I promised myself that I would never do is write a sequel, although I have been asked to do one for The Convincer. However, that particular character, I feel, has run the gamut of nastiness that I could possibly come up with. It was, after all, my first creation in the world of horror fiction, and I basically threw everything into that book, leaving no room for a possible second novel.

The only sequel that I have ever done was More Stories To Read To The Thing Under The Bed, which was only another collection of short stories that I write whenever the mood (and the nightmare) hits me.

With all of that being said, I had already formulated the sequel to the The Suicide Killers The First Jake Rhodes Mystery at about the same time I was writing the first book.

With most sequels to anything, I have found that they tend to pale in comparison with the first book, or movie. They seem to become too formulaic and the story is not quite up to par with the original. I hope that that does not happen to a character that I have thoroughly enjoyed penning, and while he has not yet left the recesses of my imagination, I do believe that I have done him somewhat an iota of justice.

I have also tried to write this tome as a stand- alone novel, one which you will not have to go back and read the first book, although, there are several characters from the first one that make their presence known. Perhaps you should read the first one, although don’t let me be an influence in that matter.

So please, pop up some hot buttered popcorn, turn the lights down to a comfortable level, and enjoy.

Prolouge

The lights from the carnival had such an intoxicating effect on Nancy that she had soon forgotten the problems that had suddenly invaded her life. She had actually been having a wonderful time, riding the myriad thrill rides, shrieking inside the haunted house, and even winning a small teddy bear from the many games of chance that had lined one side of Centennial Park in downtown Atlanta.

She had neither the time or inclination to think about the loveless marriage that she had found herself trapped in.

Nancy Stewart, a prodigy of great musical talent, who could have been the lead of any orchestra at the age of thirteen, found herself at the age of 26 living from day to day with a husband who she no longer loved or cared about. The night of the carnival she had looked at herself in the full length mirror of her bathroom and cursed the thirty pounds that she had managed to pile on in the last three years.

She had breezed through high school, a slim dancers figure and long golden hair that everyone thought was her greatest attribute. Her smile was infectious. Her eyes shined blue and captured everything, never looking away when someone was talking to her, absorbing every word.

Her musical talents were unsurpassed. She had mastered the violin, cello, guitar, and piano by the time she was fourteen. Her parents were proud of her accomplishments, and helped her in any way that they could. She should have been an international star.

At the age of eighteen, shortly after graduation, her heart took control. It was then that she had met Hank Thomas.

He was tall, ruggedly handsome, and very ambitious, working his way through corporate America in his father’s law firm. By the age of 25, he had become a full partner and had set his eyes on Nancy after seeing her at a party that was hosted by the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra. Nancy had been the featured violinist during a performance of Beethoven and she had not only wowed the audience, but had stolen the heart of the young lawyer.

Within six months, the two had married, making plans for each other’s future. Everything seemed to be perfect.

Except for her it was eight years later, and things were very far from perfect.

The law firm had gone belly up, thanks partly to the high rate of lost cases and the mismanagement of funds. Hank had begun to get moody and irritable after the first year as Nancy tried to begin her career as a musician. She had had to quit when the first pregnancy left her bed-ridden for seven months, only to lose the child during birth.

She had tried to regain some of the lost time, but her fingers had begun to rebel. Hank had complained that she was no longer the desirable girl that he had first seen in Symphony Hall.

When her parents had died two years ago, things went from bad to worse. Another miscarriage, Hank only taking simple cases for some disability law firm that considered it a favor to throw him a case, they had barely been able to make mortgage payments.

It was then that she had decided to try and regain what little life that she could get. She had begun to meet people in the supermarket, on the street, talking to strangers who quickly became friends. She began receiving phone calls from both men and women, inviting her to parties or to go out for the evening.

Hank told her to do whatever the fuck she wanted to do.

She wasn’t sure if he was cheating, there had been no signs of it, and she had not cheated in any way. There was always the innocent flirtation, but nothing more.

The fight that Hank and she had had on this particular night, had been, to say the least, brutal.

So who are you going to fuck tonight? Hank had asked, sitting in his easy chair, his rugged looks gone to waste with the beer that he had guzzled every night.

I’m just going to the damn carnival! she had snapped.

Sure, he said as he emptied the can of beer, reaching for another one that had been sitting on the table.

I told you that you could come, she said as she gathered the last bit of remnants she put in her purse.

Just like you said I could take that stupid class, he said.

It isn’t a class, it is just a seminar series, and I thought it might be fun, she had told him.

Have fun blowing whoever behind the Ferris wheel, he said with a belch.

Dammit, I’m sick of this shit! she screamed. Eight years, Hank, and its damn old. I’m sorry that we lost the babies, I’m sorry you don’t have a fucking career, and right now I’m damn sorry that I even met you!

That last bit had been said as she had stormed out the door. At first she had regretted the words, but as the night wore on, she realized that the last eight years had been nothing but a waste of her time. She should have been a master violinist or piano player. She should have been on the lips of every patron of the arts.

Instead, she was a dumpy wife whose looks had seen better days with a husband who would rather swill beer than try and better his situation.

While walking through the fairgrounds, tearing at the last of the cotton candy that she had purchased, she swore that she would find herself again.

Excuse me.

The man had bumped into her slightly, jarring her out of the daydream. She looked up at him.

No, she told herself, not again. You are not going to fall madly in love with another tall man with a wonderful smile.

And it was a wonderful smile.

She watched as he began to fade into the crowd. She had noticed the manner of dress after the smile. Funny to see a man in a three piece dark suit in the middle of a carnival, she thought. Perhaps he was one of the owners, or maybe he was on some sort of security detail.

She didn’t think about him again until she saw him at the Ferris Wheel, waiting in line only two people behind her. She saw him again as