Through Narrowed Eyes

By Kimberly Williams

Lisa Hatchett, a very devoted wife and successful psychotherapist, feels that she is the most blessed woman ever. After living in and out of foster homes most of her adolescent life after the sudden death of her parents, she'd always dreamed of having a very successful career, but not just any career. While living with the devastation of losing her parents, she felt that she needed a rewarding career where she could help others overcome their emotional and mental challenges. Hence, the reason she persevered and earned double master's degrees to become a criminal psychologist. But suddenly, Lisa's world is turned upside down when she starts to receive menacing phone calls and threatening letters. She begins to become unraveled. Bodies are beginning to turn up in this small community of Ingleton, Minnesota. There has never been anything of this nature to happen before. The citizens of this community are all horrified and wondering who is next. Lisa begins to wonder if there is a connection to the murders and obscene phone calls and letters she has been receiving. But who would want to hurt her and why?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781646287437

Book preview

Chapter 1

Nine Months Ago

She awoke to the sound of her alarm clock. Six thirty already? Lisa groaned as she squinted at the soft gray light filtering in through the blinds.

As she reached over to stop the incessant buzzing, she felt a pair of strong arms reach out to her. Smiling, she turned over into her husband’s warm embrace. Anthony kissed her passionately and smiled down at her. Good morning, sweetheart, he said.

Mmm…and what a good morning it is, she said, snuggling into him.

There’s plenty more where that came from.

I’m sure. After pecking him quickly on the lips, Lisa rolled out of bed.

Where are you going?

To make a pot of coffee, shower, and get ready for work. You need to be making a move too.

He stared at the ceiling and sighed. This is going to be a long day.

Don’t you have that press conference at nine?

Anthony swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, giving a long, satisfying stretch. His skin was the color of milk chocolate, and the thin, neatly trimmed mustache fitted perfectly on his angular face. Yeah, I do. The mayor, the DA, local reporters, and of course, the chief will be there. A real showstopper.

So how’s the case coming along?

He studied his reflection in the bathroom mirror gravely, running his hand through his curly hair, an anxious habit. Baby, are you okay? Lisa asked as she walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

I’m fine. He paused. I’m just having a hard time digesting this one. I mean, this was a fourteen-year-old girl, for Christ’s sake. And to find her little body that way…pure evil. He turned in her arms, kissed her on the forehead, and walked back into the room. I’ve been in law enforcement for seventeen years, and nothing has ever rattled me in such a way…I just don’t know… He sat on the bed. Shoulders slumped in defeat.

Lisa watched as he combed his fingers through his hair some more. She sat beside him. Honey, I’m sure that everything will work out fine. You’ll catch this monster. I know it won’t bring her back, but at least, it will be one less psychopath on our streets. She grabbed his hand. It will be all right, she urged.

Anthony looked deep into her eyes. When was the last time I told you that I love you?

Last night.

Well, I’m telling you again. I love you.

I love you too, honey.

Now how about that shower?

Putting her arms around his neck, Lisa kissed the tip of his nose. I planned on showering alone, but I guess I could use a little company.

Well, what are we waiting for, Mrs. Hatchett?

*****

Good morning, Mr. Alexander, Lisa said, looking at her watch. You’re thirty minutes early. Your appointment isn’t until nine. How are you this morning?

I’m doing okay, I guess. How are you? And please, call me Steven.

She gestured toward the chair in front of her desk. Have a seat. She sat behind her desk and watched him. So…since you’ve been coming to me for the past three months, you’ve been like clockwork—always on time. Not a minute late, not a minute early. So I think it’s fair to ask why you are thirty minutes early this morning.

Steven sank back into the leather chair and studied Lisa. Her cinnamon complexion, Bambi eyes, and jet-black hair, with just a few sprinkles of gray, suddenly struck him. Gorgeous, he thought as he shifted focus to his surroundings. You have such a beautiful office, Mrs. Hatchett, Steven observed. So comfortable.

The cozy space was neatly decorated in plush tones and warm lighting. Small rose-colored lamps sat in the corners of her desk with two rose- and berry-colored floral chairs sitting opposite her along the far wall. In the pearl vases that sat atop of the two end tables were bouquets of red roses that smelled as fresh as they looked. Next to her desk stood a seven-foot pearl-hued lamp shimmering with gold flecks, and on top of her desk sat a white picture frame boasting a photo of her and her very handsome husband.

Thank you, Mr. Alexander. Comfort is what I want all my clients to feel when they are having sessions with me. So again, do you mind telling me why you’re here thirty minutes early?

Well, I had a pretty rough night last night, so I was up by four thirty this morning and was unable to fall back asleep. By the time seven rolled around, I was fully dressed and walking out the door. Instead of driving to your office, this time, I decided to use public transportation, figuring I would get here right on time. I guess the bus is a little faster than I thought. I hope I didn’t throw your morning off by arriving early.

Oh no, it’s fine. She unlocked her drawer, pulled out his file, and laid it upon her desk. So you say you had a bad night. Is it the nightmares again?

Steven nodded.

Okay… Well, tell me about them.

Lisa had been through this routine what seemed like a million times before. For ten years and counting, she’d dealt with the mental and emotional distresses various crimes had brought to, not only their victims but their perpetrators as well. And she loved every moment of it. It had always been a life goal of hers to work with the wonders of the mind, but she could’ve never predicted that, at thirty-seven, she would be the youngest female criminal psychoanalyst in her agency.

And what a rewarding career it was. For it was through this line of work that she met her husband. She was counseling a client who so happened to be a vital component in a case assigned to Detective Anthony Hatchett. They met for lunch one afternoon to discuss the details of the case, and the rest is history. A seven-year marriage and a godsent career kept her strength alive, even when dealing with her most tormented clients.

As Lisa wrapped up her session with Mr. Alexander, an intercom buzz caught her attention. Yes, Mia?

Mrs. Hatchett, I have a call for you on line 2. He says it’s urgent.

Is it Anthony?

No, I don’t think so.

Well, who is it?

He wouldn’t give his name. Just said that it was urgent.

Thank you. Place him on hold while I finish up with Mr. Alexander.

Yes, ma’am. She disconnected.

It was a very good session today, Mr. Alexander. You’re making so much progress. Keep writing in your journal, and bring it with you to every session. She looked at him knowingly. It will get better, she assured him as she squeezed his arm. Same time next week?

Yes. It was good as always. Same time next week. And please, call me Steven.

Okay, Steven, she said, smiling. See you then.

She picked up the phone just as he closed the door behind him. This is Lisa Hatchett. How may I help you?

Silence.

Hello? How may I help you?

Lisa…Lisa Hatchett, hissed an eerie, barely audible voice.

Yes. Who is this?

How’s life treating you? he growled.

Click.

Mia walked into Lisa’s office just as she was replacing the receiver. Mia was a petite young woman with butter-toned skin. Her chic haircut fitted perfectly around her heart-shaped face.

Mia, was there a callback number on the phone call that I just got?

I don’t know. Let me go check. After a few seconds, Mia reentered the office. No, there wasn’t. It was a blocked call. Is anything wrong?

No…no, she lied. It’s just that whoever it was hung up.

Mia appeared perplexed but hardly phased. Hmm…that’s weird. Well, if there isn’t anything else, I’m going to run these files over to suite 5 like you asked.

Sure, that’s fine.

She paused. Are you sure you’re all right?

Yes, I’m fine. Thanks.

Okay, see you in a bit. She walked out of the office and closed the door behind her.

Lisa sat behind her desk, shaken by an apprehension she couldn’t explain.

How’s life treating you?

Chapter 2

Detective Anthony Hatchett sat in his office reviewing the recordings of the press conference from earlier that day. In a flurry of ceaseless questions, flashing cameras, and microphones, a constant, bitter thought resonated through his mind, They couldn’t care less if her killer is found. I lost sleep every night thinking about justice for Kelly, and all they care about is their next good headline. He thought of her often, wondered where she might have been in ten, twenty years had she lived.

Kelly Black, a fourteen-year-old freshman at Carter High, was the eldest of three children. An aspiring pediatrician and straight A student, she was her mother’s pride and joy. He thought of her mother, an accountant, a woman of beauty and power. He thought about how she crumbled at the crime scene, broken down under the weight of seeing her daughter’s mutilated body. He squeezed his eyes shut at the sting of the memory.

*****

Two Weeks Earlier

It’s pretty today. I think I’ll walk home, Kelly said, turning to her mother before getting out of the car.

Are you sure?

Yeah, it’s only five blocks away. I’ll be fine.

Well, okay. Call me if you change your mind.

I won’t. She smiled. Love you!

Love you! her mom called after her.

By three forty-five that afternoon, Kelly still had not returned home. Her mother brushed off her underlying concern, assuming she’d stayed late to tutor the other kids—after all, that was Kelly. But by 6:00 p.m., after a slew of missed calls and unanswered text messages, she was hysterical. She paced back and forth as terrible thoughts raced through her mind. She’s never been this late. The school’s closed. Oh god, what if…? Oh god, oh god. By six thirty, she had called in a missing person’s report.

Kelly’s body was found two days later, three blocks from her home in a dumpster behind a neighborhood market. Her throat had been slashed, and all her digits were severed. The news sent shockwaves of panic across the community. Parents kept their children home from school, the malls and movie theaters grew quiet, and joggers looked over their shoulders twice as much as before. A somber, looming sense of fear lay like a dark, wet blanket over the city in light of the brutal killing.

Every police station around town buzzed with frantic determination to find evidence, a lead, any clue at all toward finding her killer. To Anthony’s dismay, there were more questions than answers. A full two weeks had gone by, and they hadn’t so much as narrowed down a prime suspect. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t even hear the chief of police enter his office.

Detective? Chief Winchester asked, concern lacing his voice.

He snapped out of his reverie and looked up to find the chief looming in his doorway. Chief, how can I help you?

"Maybe I should be asking you that. I’d asked