Twisted - The Psychopath Next Door: A Novel of Suspense

By Gracie Roberts

Savannah is used to getting what she wants when she wants it. Savannah is beautiful, charming and cunning, and uses her wiles to her advantage, but what dark secrets hide under this facade? When a new paralegal comes to work at the same prestigious law firm where Savannah works, Savannah's ugly secret begins to unravel. Her coworker, Mallory, becomes her obsession. How far will Savannah go to get revenge? Will Mallory escape Savannah's clutches? Find out!

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 31, 2012
• ISBN: 9781623091293

Book preview

Us.

PROLOGUE

Come on, Jimmy! Let’s go play by the tree!

The one by the fence? You know we’re not supposed to go down there, mama says so.

Oh, come on, you little baby!

I’m not a baby!

Are too, are too, Savannah cries over her shoulder, as she taunts her little brother.

But, I’m not a baby, Jimmy continued to protest.

Yes you are, yes you are! Savannah begins walking at a swift pace, then begins skipping, her long blonde hair flowing behind her like a pony’s mane. As she skips she looks over her shoulder occasionally to see if her little brother is following her. He is. Pleased, Savannah continues skipping down the grassy slope to the end of the property which is surrounded by a wooden slatted fence with a brand new coat of white paint on it.

It had been painted a week prior by her father and other ranch hands. And, it was a week ago that her father firmly told Savannah and Jimmy not to go near the tree by the fence at the end of the property line. Every day after breakfast, as the children run out the back door, and down the steps leading to the backyard, their mother shouts out after them reminding them not to go near the tree.

Just inside the property line, near the wooden slatted fence, stood a huge majestic magnolia tree, the forbidden tree. However, on this warm summer morning, Savannah was going to ignore mother’s orders. The sweet scent of the large creamy blossoms beckoned Savannah to the edge of the property.

Jimmy timidly follows behind his big sister. He cautiously walks down the grassy slope looking over his tiny shoulder, back to the main house, hoping and longing that his mother might be watching out the kitchen window to stop him before he was completely out of sight.

Savannah continues to tease her little brother in a sing-song fashion, You’re a baby, you’re a baby, over and over like a broken record.

I am not, Jimmy protests, but to no avail.

Savannah finally reaches the tree. She calls out to her little brother. See, Jimmy, there’s nothing to be afraid of.

Jimmy, all of just four, knows his sinister sister is up to something; he knows better than to believe her, because of all the tricks she’s played on him in the past, mean tricks, not just typical sibling rivalry either.

It was feeling a bit hot as the sun was beating down on little Jimmy’s shoulders. His tank top was not much protection against the sun. It would feel good to be under the shade of that tree, Jimmy thought. The smell of the blossoms was intoxicating. Jimmy took in a deep breath of the sweetness that filled the air that fine Spring morning.

Come on Jimmy, I told you there was nothing to be scared of.

Just as Jimmy approaches the tree, Savannah picks up a large stick; a broken branch perhaps, that was hidden in the grass at the base of the tree. Savannah picks it up quickly, and methodically gives the tree a hard whack. It startles Jimmy. He jumps, but doesn’t run away. Savannah continues to whack the tree with the large stick over and over, until her palms bleed, not just from the sheer force of hitting the tree over and over again, but because the stick is not smooth, and has protruding, splintered points all over it, with a general roughness to it.

Whack, Whack, Whack! Over and over, Savannah hits the tree with the stick, her porcelain skin starting to turn red from the discharge of the blood on the palm of her hands. The stick starts to get slippery from all the blood, but Savannah is undeterred, and with a determined frenzy, continues to hit the trunk of the tree.

All of a sudden Jimmy’s world, as he knew it, would change forever. The bright sunlight begins to fade away, and it becomes dark, then black. Jimmy’s delicate little body crumples to the ground in the grass. The last thing Jimmy remembers is the sweet smell of magnolia blossoms mixed with the scent of grass as he slowly slips away.

***

Jimmy! Jimmy, mama’s calling you, where are you?

Savannah, in her pink cotton dress with the flower print ruffles at the bottom, and matching pink sandals, is happily playing on the backyard swing. She pays no attention to her mother as she stands on the back porch blocking her eyes from the harsh sun with one hand, scanning the perimeter of the back yard hoping to see some sign of Jimmy. Savannah continues to swing back and forth, higher and higher, until her mother takes notice.

Savannah, please slow down, you’re swinging much too high. Savannah ignores her.

Savannah, have you seen your little brother?

Savannah slows her swing down a bit and with a sincere tone in her voice responds, Why, no mama. I’ve been playing on the swings for awhile now. As if on cue, Savannah, with a tone of concern now in her voice adds, "I hope he didn’t go down by the tree," she casts a knowing look in the direction of where the majestic magnolia stood.

He knows better than to go down there. I’ve told him, your father’s told him. Savannah’s mother’s voice trails off as she squints her eyes looking over at the tree to see if there’s any sign of Jimmy there. Unfortunately the grass needs cutting and its height completely hides poor little Jimmy’s body.

Savannah begins to swing strongly, again, higher and higher.

Savannah! I asked you to slow down. Savannah with an amused look on her face does as she is told.

I’m obedient, aren’t I mommy?

With a distracted tone to her voice her mother responds, Yes, angel, you’re such a good girl. You’re little brother on the other hand needs special attention, and needs to be watched constantly. He was watching his favorite cartoons just twenty minutes ago.

At this point Savannah’s mother was talking more to herself than to Savannah trying to retrace the last twenty minutes. The phone rang, and it was your father. He was telling me that he would be home early and that we were going out for pizza.

Yeah, Jimmy’s favorite place, thought Savannah snidely. Jimmy got the special attention because he’s a baby. My parents love him more than me, she thought. She stopped swinging, and disgustedly jumped off the seat of the swing. She marched herself up the steps of the back porch, past her mother, and through the back door, slamming it behind her, hard. So hard that the windows on the door shook.

Her mother looked after her, startled by the strength her daughter used to slam the door. Savannah continued up the back spiral staircase that led from the kitchen to the second floor where their rooms were located. Savannah continued to her room and slammed her door hard. She plopped herself onto the bench nook of her huge picturesque bay window, the same window which faced the huge magnolia tree. If she looked hard enough into the distance, she could vaguely make out a small indentation in the grass at the base of the tree. Savannah smiled smugly, proud of herself.

Well, she said aloud to herself while rubbing her blistered palms, That’s the end of Jimmy!

CHAPTER 1

- THE MAKING OF A PSYCHOPATH -

I’m so sorry for your loss, Catherine. Catherine couldn’t speak. Her eyes were red and swollen from all the crying she had done in the last week. Jim, her husband, held her hand tightly, and spoke for both of them.

Thank you, John. We’ll be at your house soon for the memorial. Thanks for hosting it on Jimmy’s behalf. John and his wife cast one last look at the far end of the church toward the tiny white coffin trimmed in copper which held little Jimmy’s lifeless body. With a nod, John and his wife walked out of the church. The next couple in line approached Catherine and Jim, giving their condolences while clasping Catherine and Jim’s hands with sympathy. The next couple in line gave their sincerest sympathies. So it went for about an hour.

Will this day ever end, thought Catherine bitterly as she fought back tears. A blur of friends, neighbors, and family passed by her and her husband one by one. Their voices became inaudible; their mouths moved, but their voices were hollow echoes in her head. It can’t be true! Jimmy is not gone, she thought hysterically!

Savannah was nearby sitting on one of the pews, observing the parade of people that came to say goodbye to her little brother. Boring! She thought.

She sauntered off toward the coffin, approaching it tentatively. The coffin was set up on a stand, but if she got on her tippy-toes she could just see her brother’s lifeless profile lying there. He was nestled inside like a newborn in a crib. His light brown hair resting on a white ruffled pillow.

How comfy, Savannah thought. Her brother was wearing a white suit with a light blue tie. Around his neck resting on his tie was something shiny that caught Savannah’s attention, but she couldn’t quite make out what it was. She got on her tippy-toes as high as she could possibly stand while pulling herself up onto the coffin so she could get a better look.

It was a crucifix; part of a rosary. It was beautiful. It was made of shiny gold with dark blue cloisonné beads which complemented Jimmy’s light blue tie. It also had beautiful shiny crystals which Savannah thought were diamonds. The crystals and gold were twinkling and shining from the flame of the candles which surrounded each end of the white coffin.

Savannah had to have it. And, when Savannah wanted something, she usually got it, or took it, whatever the case may be. She looked behind her toward the front of the church where her parents and the last of the guests were still talking. The old priest had joined them at this point. Her parents, the remaining guests, and the priest bowed their heads in prayer.

Savannah, quick as a flash, reached her thin, pale arm across her dead brother’s body and snatched the crucifix firmly in her fist. She yanked hard, but the clasp stayed put. She wanted this necklace, and she was going to have it! She, again, yanked hard, causing her brother’s head to turn toward hers. She was startled, but only for a moment.

His eyes were shut, and they were staying that way. She was, again face to face with her brother, but this time his face was pale and lifeless with just a flush of color on his cheeks put on by the mortician.

A week ago today, he had that same rosy glow to his cheeks but as she watched her brother’s face as he lay dying, that rosy glow faded quickly. Savannah quickly switched focus, she wanted the necklace, had to have the necklace, she kept repeating in her mind, like a mantra, in order to maintain her composure. Savannah yanked once more, real hard, and the clasp came undone.

At that moment her parents, who had just finished praying, looked up and toward the coffin with Savannah half on top of it.

Oh, God, look Jim! Savannah is completely devastated! She’s trying to hug her brother, but she doesn’t realize that he is never coming back! Catherine cried; tears that she thought she could no longer produce came cascading down her cheeks.

I’ll go get her, Jim gently explained. Jim nodded at the priest who was looking at two devastated parents for the loss of one child, and yet still had to be strong for a child also in mourning. The old priest nodded at Jim as he tried to console Catherine.

Savannah palmed the beautiful crucifix into her porcelain hand like a professional thief who palms jewelry. She was quick, and methodical, and showed no emotions toward her dead brother whose face was only inches from hers.

Savannah? Jim put his large hands on both of his daughter’s shoulders.

Uh-oh, thought Savannah, I’ve been caught! She began crying, just thinking of the punishment her parents would give her. She hated being punished, nothing she ever did was her fault, she reasoned.

Jim continued, I know you’re going to miss your little brother, we all are. What happened was a bad accident. Something that shouldn’t have happened if I had taken care of it, Jim said bitterly.

I haven’t been caught, Savannah, thought. Daddy didn’t see me take the necklace! Euphoria reverberated through her body; she had the necklace! The beautiful gold, blue and diamond necklace with Jesus on the cross. It was hers and hers alone.

Come on, sweetheart. Try to stop crying and remember your little brother fondly, Jim finished. Jim gently lifted her arm from across her brother’s chest. He then firmly placed his hands around her waist and lifted her body off the casket and onto the floor.

Savannah, wiping away her tears, turned to face her father. Blue eyes opened wide, and with an innocent tone to her voice, Savannah asked him, Do you think he’s in Heaven daddy?

Jim tried to choke back tears, but the thick swelling in his throat wouldn’t let that happen. Yes, angel, he cried in angst. He’s up there with God now, watching over all of us! Huge, wracking sobs shook Jim’s body as he wailed in grief for his beloved son.

Oblivious to her father’s grief, Savannah gingerly placed her tiny hand into her father’s large one. Okay, daddy, let’s go now. Savannah lead her father to where her mother and the priest were still talking. Her other hand was still tightly clutching the crucifix. Savannah stuffed that hand into the pocket of her Sunday Church dress; she opened her hand slightly, and down dropped the crucifix into its temporary hiding place.

The Sunday Church dress was irritating Savannah’s tender, red skin. Its frilly white lace around the band of her tight sleeves, brushed against the upper part of her biceps, like sandpaper would feel as it stroked and smoothed a wood carving. Each time Savannah moved her arms, or reached for something, the itchy lace would rub, and each rub was a reminder of what she did to her little brother.

Savannah’s mother tried to comfort the irritation by applying cortisone cream and lanacane which the family doctor prescribed a week earlier when the irritation surfaced on Savannah’s face, arms and legs. Both parents assumed it was just a nasty sunburn from playing out in the hot sun too long on the day Jimmy died.

What they didn’t know was that Savannah had snuck into her father’s tool shed, unnoticed, earlier that morning before Jimmy finished his breakfast. She looked around the shed for the familiar green plastic bottle with the yellow spray nozzle. She finally spotted it, up on a high shelf. It would be reachable if she pulled the stool, the one she often saw her father sitting on, over to its location.

Savannah climbed the stool onto the wooden work table her father used, and tried to reach for the green bottle up on the shelf, however it was too heavy to pick up. She turned the bottle around toward her, and knew it was the one. It had pictures of all sorts of yucky insects on it, including bees, ants and spiders.

Luckily the extension nozzle was attached to the bottle, and Savannah reached for the yellow trigger. She sprayed the smelly liquid onto her arms, legs and face, and then rubbed it into her skin so that it was thoroughly absorbed. What Savannah did not know was that the chemicals in this insect spray were not meant to be put on one’s skin for protection.

She saw her father strap the large bottle over his shoulder many times, while walking the property, the extension spray hose in his hand, spraying the foliage as he went killing insects and digger bees for Jimmy’s protection.

Savannah’s reaction to the chemicals wouldn’t surface for another three hours, while she and her family were at the hospital and the doctors were trying with all their might to resuscitate Jimmy. Suddenly Savannah’s tender skin was turning bright red with each passing minute. It hurt with such intensity, like fire, but Savannah kept quiet trying to avoid bringing attention to herself. She used the ladies room of the hospital many times trying to wash off the chemicals with soap and water, but it only appeared to make it worse.

Savannah’s mother, during her darkest grief over her son’s death, noticed her daughter’s red, irritated skin, and questioned her about it. Savannah flinched as her mother ran her fingers lightly over her daughter’s forearm.

Oh, honey, said her mother through tears, "You must have gotten too much sun today. The emergency room doctor, who had just pronounced Jimmy’s death to the family only a half hour before, was somewhat relieved with the diversion from the family’s grief, and went to Savannah to inspect her skin.

This looks worse than a sunburn to me, said the doctor as he looked Savannah over. Savannah pursed her lips, hoping the doctor would not figure out what she had done earlier that day, and give away her secret.

It looks like she’s come in contact with something highly toxic; it looks like a chemical burn, the doctor announced.

Savannah snatched her arm away from his hand suddenly, and gave the doctor the evil eye.

The doctor didn’t notice and assumed she pulled away from the pain.

The doctor wrote a prescription for contact dermatitis.

Unless her skin starts to blister, she should be okay, the doctor advised the family.

As much as Savannah was hurting, the bug spray did the trick; she didn’t get stung once. But her little brother was another story.

***

The family decided against a traditional graveside service. They just couldn’t bear to see the tiny white casket hovering over a deep hole in the ground. It sickened both Jim and Catherine to think of it, so they did away with tradition and said their final good-bye’s at the funeral home.

They soon arrived at John and his wife’s home, where other guests were milling and speaking of the tragedy quietly. Other guests continued to arrive. John greeted Jim and Catherine somberly, and smiled half-heartedly at Savannah.

Come in guys, there’s a buffet set up in the formal dining room. The thought of food was the last thing on Jim and Catherine’s minds. How can you eat when you’ve just lost a beloved child? Catherine never wanted to eat again.

Savannah had no trouble with her appetite and headed straight for the dessert table, where there was an array of inviting treats. Catherine looked disapprovingly as Savannah approached the dessert table, but Jim stopped her before she could scold thier daughter.

Just let her be, Catherine, today, who cares what she eats.

You’re right, Jim, as long as she eats something and she can forget the loss of her brother for a few moments. That’s all I want; for her to adjust to no longer having a sibling.

Savannah filled her dessert size paper plate with an assortment of goodies; Petites fours, an oatmeal cookie, a chocolate chip cookie, two brownies, and sugar covered praline pecans. She could barely balance all her treats on the small paper plate, but managed somehow to get to her destination; the beautiful cream colored parsons chair with the half-moon side table placed next to the chair. Savannah gingerly placed her