The Bible Murders: The Anna and John Mystery/Suspense Series, #2

By Faye Tollison

A religiously devoted couple were viciously murdered in their home. The police suspect their adopted daughter but cannot find the proof. Anna comes to John after being out of his life for five years and asks for help with the case. The case becomes deep and dark as John Mentz digs deeper into the case.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Faye Tollison
• Release date: Oct 24, 2018
• ISBN: 9781499708516

Faye Tollison

I am retired and love reading. I've read mysteries all my life and finally decided to write one of my own. I live in the Upstate of South Carolina with my three cats.

Book preview

Chapter 1

October 1, 2012

"On a hi-i-ill...far awa-a-ay...stood an o-o-old...rugged cross," sang Mary Price to the hymn playing on the radio across the room. She stood at the kitchen sink, her back to the outside door, washing the last dinner plate. It was 9 p.m. Darkness had already fallen, and the neighborhood had grown silent. 

A dark figure furtively made its way to the backdoor and looked through the window. As quietly as he could, he opened the door and slipped into the kitchen. A slight squeak was heard as the door swung inward, and the figure paused, watching Mary Price to see if she had noticed. But she was oblivious, lost in her chore and the hymn she was singing. He eased over to her and raised his hand.

Mary looked up and saw the reflection in the window over the sink. Her eyes grew wide with fear, and she opened her mouth to scream, hunching down and covering her head with her hand just as the knife pierced through her brainstem. Her limp body crumpled to the floor, but the knife continued to slice through her body over and over again until she lay still and quiet, her scream never heard.

The killer made his way down the hallway, stopped at the door of the Prices’ bedroom, eased the door open and entered the room unnoticed.

Unbeknownst to the killer, another figure unlocked the front door and entered the house. Jennifer Price made her way to the door of the kitchen and gasped at the bloody sight. She eased over to the body, stepping carefully around the blood and felt for a pulse. She stood up and looked wide-eyed around the room in disbelief.

In the meantime Martin Price knelt beside his bed in prayer, his Bible clutched between his two hands. Hearing a slight noise behind him, he turned around just in time to see the knife. He held his left hand up in defense, eyes filled with fear and shock, but the look on his face changed to one of surprise when he looked into the face of his attacker. The Bible fell from his hand and fell to the floor with a muffled thud, thin pages fluttering open to Psalms 23. Pale lips gurgled each breath as blood spewed forth, spattering over the words of the Psalms. In the few minutes it took Martin Price to die the knife invaded his body many more times. Blood covered the bed, the floor, the bedside table. The lamp dripped blood from its delicate lampshade and streaks of blood ran down the wall. The rug beneath the body soaked up the blood that seeped from the body that lay on it.

The killer walked out of the bedroom and into the hallway. He stopped as he spotted a shadow in the doorway of the kitchen. Cursing silently to himself, he quickly stepped into the bathroom directly across from the bedroom and closed the door except for a crack. He slipped out of the bloody raincoat, hood, and gloves and stuffed them into a bag he had brought with him. Then he waited, listening.

In the meantime Jennifer stepped softly down the hallway and cautiously entered the Prices’ bedroom. The door was only partially closed, but as the killer watched through a crack in the door, it gave him enough confidence to slip quickly and quietly out of the bathroom and down the hallway to the kitchen. Avoiding the blood that was continuing to flow from Mary Price’s body, he went out the backdoor, pulling it shut behind him, unaware of Jennifer standing in the hall doorway to the kitchen watching as he closed the door, taking note of the work-worn hand on the doorknob and blue plaid shirt the man wore.

As the killer hurried from the house, only a small, brown frog on the doorstep watched as he slipped into the darkness of the night.

Chapter 2

John Mentz, Private Investigator, signed the last letter in the neat stack on his desk.  Each case had a report and a letter to be signed by him and sent out by his secretary, Geraldine, better known as Gerrie.  He sighed and shoved the stack in his out- box.

The last five years had been busy years.  After his trial acquitting him of the murder of Senator Levall, he had disappeared for a while.  When he returned, he turned in his badge as an undercover agent and opened a detective agency.  It kept him busy, so busy he never got around to following up on what his heart wanted him to do, but so much time had pass since he last saw  or talked to her.  Eventually it just didn't seem plausible.

Gerrie, he said, raising his voice so he could be heard through the partially open door.

What?  An irritated voice said.  Geraldine Hanover, fifty years old, wore purple earrings that hung to her shoulders, had bright red-dyed hair, and wore sixties hippy clothes. She would stand out in any crowd, but she was a good secretary and had faithfully stood by John through thick and thin, even during his drinking period when he finally hit rock bottom. It was Gerrie who had taken him by the seat of his pants and set him on the straight and narrow. She was his savior, and he knew he could never pay her back for all she did for him.

I need the Carson file, please.  He heard her banging the file drawers and then her irritated muttering at the ringing of the phone.  A moment later she handed him the file.

Thanks, he said, smiling at her.

Her voice was naturally loud, but she lowered it so he could barely hear her. You have a visitor, she said. 

Who?

I'll tell her to come in. Gerrie left the room, not giving him time to push her into saying who it was. She often ignored his questions, at least the ones she felt not important, but she never failed to let him know who was waiting to see him. It fed his curiosity and yet gave him an ominous feeling. But Gerrie would not send in someone dangerous, not without telling him first. He waited, his eyes on the doorway.

She wore a red dress which seemed to flow around her as she walked in the office. Red high-heeled shoes accented her beautiful slim ankles. He moved his gaze upward. Medium length dark brown hair hugged her neck.  She sat in a chair in front of his desk. He watched in awe as she crossed a perfect leg over the other, the skirt of her dress riding upward.

Hello, John.  She smiled at him.  You look great.  Life has evidently been good to you.

My God, Anna, you're more beautiful than ever.

She laughed, her dark eyes flashing her pleasure at his comment.  You're handsome as ever yourself.

John nervously tapped the tip of his pen on the desk.  Anna obviously took notice of his discomfort, the corners of her mouth turning upward just slightly.

What can I do for you, Anna?

She glanced away, quickly stood up, and started pacing.  I know you think I came just to find out why I haven't heard from you in five years.  But that's not why I'm here.

He laid down his pen and leaned back in his chair. His interest had been tweaked.  Without speaking, he waited.

Anna stopped pacing and leaned over his desk, both hands flat as she put her weight on them.  Okay, so I'd like to know why, but that's not why I'm here.

For the record, I wanted to call, even picked up the phone to call you so many times, but....

But?

I don't know, Anna.  I just couldn't do it.  I can't give you a reason why.  I don't know why, but I just couldn't do it.

You think I did it, don't you?  You really think I killed Ken.  She shook her head, the whites of her eyes turning red with the threat of tears.

No!  No, I don't.  But...

But there was that little nagging doubt you just couldn't shake.  Still can't, can you? A tinge of bitterness was in her voice.

He opened his mouth to speak but hesitated.  His eyes pleaded with her to understand.

I didn't, John.  It was as your lawyer stated—an accident.  A regrettable accident.  Her voice softened.

He looked thoughtful as the silence lengthened between them.  So what was the reason you came here today?

Anna took a deep breath and nodded.  Okay.  Have you read about the Bible murders in the newspapers?

Sure.

Well, Jennifer, the Prices’ daughter, has been taken into custody. They think she did it and she could be charged with the murders. They haven’t charged her yet, but they may. Esther Crenshaw, who owns the shop next to mine, lives in the same neighborhood as the Prices.  We were talking yesterday at lunch, and she told me the Prices’ daughter did not do this.  I thought maybe you'd do a little investigating into the matter and see what you think.  That is if you're not too busy.

I'm listening, he said.

Esther said there was something weird about these people.  They kept to themselves, making no effort to make friends with their neighbors.  About 14 years ago they adopted twins and home schooled them.  Then one day one of the twins just disappeared.  They claimed she died.

So far I don't see anything that warrants investigating.

There was no funeral, no gravesite for this girl.

Maybe they had her cremated, Anna.

No, there is no record of that either.

He raised an eyebrow at her.

Okay, I did check but could find no record of it.

John took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. "Why did you come here, Anna? And why didn’t this Esther report her suspicions to the police? And why didn’t she come here if she’s so concerned?"

She was afraid you would do what you're doing now and not take her seriously. And the police wouldn’t either.  Anna sighed.  You see, these girls never knew their parents or their grandparents.

You know this how?  John turned his hands palms up.

Esther is the girls' grandmother.  It was her daughter who was their mother.  Esther's daughter died after childbirth from unexpected heart problems.  Because of some bad health problems, Esther didn't feel she could raise twins by herself so she gave them up for adoption.  Of course, when she did that, she gave up all rights to the girls and was told not to make contact with them.

That must have been tough, John said.  What about the father of the twins?

Anna shook her head, a dark curl falling over her left eye. She reached up and pushed it back from her forehead.  Esther's daughter never revealed who he was.  It's listed on the birth certificate as unknown.

Okay, I'll do a little snooping, see if it's worth checking into further.

Oh, John, thank you so much.  Anna stood up, clasping her purse.

Wait a minute, he said quickly.

What?  Anna sat back down, a worried frown on her face.

I'm not promising anything, okay?  I'll look to see if it's worth my time to investigate further.  If I don't feel that it is, I'm not wasting my time.

Anna's face fell, and she opened her mouth to speak.  But John held his hand up.

Wait a minute, he said.  If I find out anything, anything at all, that makes me feel I should continue, then I will go full steam ahead.

I feel I must mention here that Esther doesn’t have much money.

Well, we’ll worry about that later, okay?

Anna nodded and smiled.  That's good enough.  Thanks, John.  She went to the door and put her hand on the knob to open it.

Anna?

She looked back over her shoulder at him.

Tell Esther I'll be seeing her. I’ll need her address and phone number. Just leave the information with Gerrie, okay?

I will, she said and opened the door.

John stood up.  And Anna?

Yes, she said, her back to him.

It was good seeing you again. I just hope I don’t regret it.

She nodded her head without speaking or turning to look at him.  The door clicked softly as she shut it behind her.

JOHN SAT STARING AT the closed door, old feelings flooding back, feelings he had long ago shut away.  After a few minutes, he shoved them to the back of his mind and picked up his phone.

Gerrie, I need newspaper articles on the Bible Murders.  Also, I need birth and adoption records, if you can get them, on Jennifer Price.  There was a twin, but I don't have the name.  I need any information you can manage to dig up.  That twin supposedly died as a child.  When you get what information you can find, then check with me.

He hung up the phone, got a legal pad, and made some notes.  After reading what he had written, he gave a satisfied grunt and shoved a toothpick in his mouth. Leaning back in his chair, he let his mind go to the woman who had just been in his office, the woman with whom he was still in love.

Chapter 3

The next day John drove to the home of the Prices and parked his dark blue Maxima in front of the house. He looked at the police tape that ran across the front porch and door, got out of the car, and walked around to get a feel for the layout of the house and land.

It was a plain house with a small front porch but large enough for a couple of high-back rockers.  A few neatly trimmed bushes lined the front of the house.  One hydrangea bush added the only color to the otherwise bare yard, and even it was beginning to fade with autumn.  Obviously the Prices did not take pride in the outside of