Death on the Air

By Laura Ware

Sandra Benson appears to have her life in order. A Christian with a popular talk radio show, she makes sure no one sees her struggles with alcohol and tries to tell herself it's not a big deal.

Then a caller who names himself "Lucifer" makes a startling statement - he killed a woman. Sandra is rattled by the call, especially when she learns she has a connection to the dead woman.

As her life slowly unravels thanks to Lucifer, Sandra struggles to help stop him. Because he isn't done killing - and she fears she may be next.

• Language: English
• Publisher: JJ Press
• Release date: Mar 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215245897

Laura Ware

Laura Ware writes in a variety of genres. Her novels are mostly inspirational fiction, although she is currently working on a fantasy series as well. Her short fiction ranges from mainstream to fantasy/science fiction and several things in between. Her stories have been published in a number of Fiction River anthologies, including Past Crime, Last Stand, Editor’s Choice and Feel the Fear. Laura also writes a weekly column for the Highlands News-Sun and her essay “Touched by an Angel” was published in Chicken Soup for the Soul: Random Acts of Kindness in 2017.

Book preview

– One –

Carol Stark pulled into the driveway of her home and let out a slow breath. Her husband’s black SUV wasn’t there. That meant Ryan wasn’t home, something she was grateful for this humid summer evening.

The one-story green stucco house was illuminated by a small light by the front door. No other lights shone inside that she could see, though she knew the kitchen light would be on. Carol eased her silver sedan into the open carport, parking in her usual spot, in front of the large white chest freezer they stored there.

She used to resent the trips her husband would take. Some of them were business related, others were seminars on finances and how to invest money. Ryan tried to explain these to her, but she tended to tune out after the third sentence or so.

But time that Ryan was away meant that she could spend her time as she chose. And tonight she’d chosen to spend it with Frank.

Carol walked in the side door and entered the large kitchen. Midnight, the black terrier that ruled the house, yapped at her as she came inside. It’s just me, silly, she told the dog, putting her purse and Bible down on the round kitchen table. Calm down.

She bent down and pet the dog’s soft fur, which caused the animal to wriggle with delight. She glanced over at the answering machine on the kitchen counter and noted there were no calls.

There were lunch and dinner dishes stacked next to the chrome kitchen sink, but Carol decided she could deal with them tomorrow. She’d taken the time to wipe down the rectangular island that she’d prepared her tomato soup and chicken salad sandwich earlier, so at least that was done.

Carol picked up her Bible. Looking at it made her feel uneasy. She knew it had been wrong to go home with Frank. She always felt guilty after they spent time together.

But Frank…he was kind. And loving. And he made her feel special. Unlike Ryan, who seemed more like a roommate than a husband the past few months.

I’m a good person, she said as she stared at the wine-red cover of her Bible. She was, wasn’t she? Hadn’t that radio host said so, after she appeared on her show to talk about the church’s clothing giveaway? Didn’t Pam tell her that when they talked about Ryan and how awful her marriage was?

She put the Bible back on the table and picked up her purse. She needed a shower. Then bed. She snapped off the kitchen light as she headed towards the bedroom in the back of the house.

Before she got to the hallway Midnight started yapping again. Carol sighed and paused. Midnight barked when people came to the door – she often referred to him as her living doorbell – but sometimes it felt as if the dog barked if something as small as a tree frog got anywhere near the door.

Midnight, what is it? she said, heading back towards the kitchen. Maybe he needed to go out. All right, all right, she continued, her hand reaching for the light switch, I’m coming –

Someone leapt at her from behind the island counter. Before Carol could scream the person whirled her around, clamping a hand over her mouth. His other hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her arm painfully up her back.

Carol was forced forward, her mind racing in circles, her heart pounding as terror flooded her senses. What was going on? How had they gotten in? Did she forget to lock the side door?

Whoever had her didn’t say a word. He forced her into the bedroom and threw her face down on the bed. Before she could act he seized both her wrists. She felt something soft wind about them as he bound her hands behind her.

God, help me, she thought. She felt him grab her and roughly flip her on her back. The room was dark and she couldn’t see his face clearly. Please, she moaned as he straddled her, please, I’ll give you all the money I have, my jewelry…

The man leaned forward and turned on the light on the nightstand. Her eyes widened as she realized who he was.

The intruder watched as shock and recognition filled Carol’s face. She spoke his name, begged him to tell her what he wanted.

He felt a grim smile tug at his lips as he pulled a red silk scarf from his jacket pocket. He’d show her what he wanted. Oh, yes.

He wound the scarf around her neck, his hands trembling. You’re about to pay for your sins, you whore. Pray that God is in a forgiving mood.

He yanked the cloth tight around her throat. Her eyes got even wider. No! she gagged. No, please…

He leaned over her, his eyes never leaving her face. His heart pounded in excitement. Yes, turning on the light was a good idea, he didn’t want to miss this.

She bucked under him, trying to toss him off her. Her cries became more garbled as he pulled the scarf more tightly around her neck.

He watched as the light finally faded from her bulging eyes. Her lips were parted, her final pleas for mercy frozen on them. Her body fell limp beneath him.

Grinning, he knotted the scarf around her swollen throat. It was done. Now he had to get her body out of here. Tonight, the game had begun. It would shift into a new phase tomorrow.

One down, he whispered, picking up Carol Stark’s limp body. Two to go.

– Two –

…s o give me a call with your thoughts on the subject. We’ll be right back after these messages.

Sandra Benson hit the Mute button on the sound board and clicked on the next commercial scheduled on her small computer screen. She blew out a breath as the ad for Tom’s Hardware went out over the airwaves. A quick glance at the clock high on the wall across from her told her she had twenty minutes left before the show was over.

The sound board the radio station used in this room wasn’t the newest or fanciest one out there, but it got the job done. Sandra remembered the first time she’d seen it with all its dials, sliders, and buttons, nearly panicking at the thought of using it while conducting a radio talk show.

Now, after six years, she could operate it quickly, almost without thinking about what she was doing. There were three computer monitors, one which fed her information about upcoming commercial breaks. Calls to the show were handled by the secretary for the station and funneled to Sandra.

She’d positioned her black mike on its gooseneck holder where it hovered in front of her lips. On the other side of her large table were two padded chairs, each with a silent black mike in front of it.

The small room had gray soundproofing material on the lower half of the walls. There were photographs on the walls showing Sandra and the other talk show host, Colin Foster, posing with local politicians.

She smiled as she glanced over her printed pages. The day before a United States senator had been forced to admit to committing adultery – after proclaiming himself a champion of family values. He’d wept in front of the cameras and begged his constituents to forgive him.

Sandra had led her show with the story, asking her listeners if they thought he was sincere or just sorry he’d gotten caught. Several people weighed in on the topic, their opinions varying from forgiveness to demands the senator step down from his office.

News stories about hypocrites like the senator were gold to Sandra. If she pitched them right, they got her audience engaged. An engaged audience was one that stuck around and came back for more.

The third commercial was ending. Sandra leaned to the right of the large desk and punched Play on the cd player there just as the announcer finished. Bumper music – a fast, upbeat instrumental – poured out. She let it run a few seconds, enjoying the energy it gave her, then hit the button that activated her microphone.

And you’re listening to The Sandra Benson Show, on WWCM in beautiful Highlands County, she said in her smooth radio voice. Phone lines are open, so give me a call. What do you think Senator Reynolds should do? Or is there another topic you want to get off your chest?

She gave the phone number again as she flipped through her small stack of news items. Speaking of other topics, school will be starting in a couple of weeks. Do you think the schools should allow a moment of silence this year at the beginning of the day, so kids who want to pray can do so?

Sandra. The voice of Teresa, the secretary for the three radio stations housed in the building, sounded into her headphones. Call for the show. Line two.

And with that, let’s go back to the phones, Sandra said without missing a beat. She punched the button for the proper line on the phone that sat to the left of the sound board. Good morning. What’s on your mind?

You make me sick.

Sandra raised her eyebrows. The voice was odd, artificial; as if someone were attempting to disguise their voice mechanically. Really.

Really, the voice responded. You and people like you…you think you’re so righteous and good. That you’re better than the rest of us.

She pursed her lips. Who is ‘us?’ As for me, I’m just a humble Christian trying to live my life right.

Of course you are, the voice sneered. As for who I am – call me Lucifer.

Sandra rolled her eyes. Oh, great. One of those callers. Well, Lucy, thanks for the call. She reached over to disconnect the line, already framing her next statement in her mind.

A woman is dead.

Her finger froze over the button.

Two seconds of silence.

I’m sorry… Sandra said, working to keep her voice steady. What did you say?

A woman is dead, Lucifer repeated. Do you want to know how I know that, Sandra?

She took a deep breath, hoping Max, the station manager, was listening in. She looked at the door of the studio, which remained firmly shut. A glance at the large window across from her chair revealed no one in the hallway. It all appeared to be a normal broadcast morning.

Except it wasn’t.

How do you know a woman is dead? she asked.

Because I killed her.

Sandra could hear the phones ringing outside of the studio. She worked to keep calm. Max suddenly appeared at the window, a cordless phone pressed to his ear. He stared at Sandra with wide eyes, his balding head shiny with sweat.

You’re confessing to murder on my radio show? she asked. She spread her hands out and mouthed what do I do to Max.

Keep him talking, Max mouthed back.

Yes, I suppose I am, Lucifer said, his mechanical voice grating on Sandra’s nerves. She couldn’t read his tone, couldn’t tell if he was upset or thoughtful or boastful.

Well… she drew the word out as she tried to mask her own nervousness, you know what the Bible says about murder, don’t you?

The Bible says lots about a lot of things, Lucifer said. And people like you and the dead woman like to pick and choose what you follow in it.

That’s not true, Sandra said. I accept all of God’s word.

The mechanical laugh that came into her headphones was like nails on a chalkboard. Do you really? We’ll just see about that. I bet you and your precious following are wondering why I’m even calling you. Are you wondering, Sandra?

She saw Max nod and continue to talk into the cordless phone. All right, Lucifer, she said, I’ll bite. Why are you calling me?

To warn you, and the rest of your ilk, Lucifer answered. I am watching and choosing as I call the self-righteous to repentance. I’ve taken one life – one of you could be next.

The light on the phone went out.

Lucifer had hung up.

– Three –

Sandra stared at the phone. Other lights were flashing on it. Teresa’s voice sounded in her headphones. You have callers on lines one, three and four. What was that about?

A sharp rap on the window jolted Sandra. She turned to see Max staring at her. Say something! he yelled, his voice faint.

With a start Sandra realized she’d been quiet for several seconds. Dead air, was the radio term for it, and it was to be avoided at all costs. She cleared her throat. Um, sorry about that. That last call…well, it was unnerving to say the least. Some of you apparently want to weigh in on it, so, let’s go back to the phones.

She punched in the button for line one. Good morning, what’s on your mind?

Hello, dear, the voice belonged to Betty, one of Sandra’s regular listeners. I just want to say I think it’s a shame that someone would play such a sick joke on you.

Sandra felt her heart rate slow down at the older woman’s words. You think this was a practical joke then, Betty?

Well, of course it was, Betty sniffed. As if someone would call your show and claim to have murdered someone! It would be laughable if it wasn’t so hideous. That caller should be ashamed of himself.

I have to admit, you’re making me feel better, Sandra said. And I have to agree that whoever made the call has some real mental problems.

It was probably someone who doesn’t like how you tell the truth about things, Betty assured her. I know you probably have other callers who want to weigh in on this, so I’ll get going. Keep your chin up, dear.

Sandra smiled as she disconnected the call. Her fans had a way of making her feel good even on the worst of days. And this was definitely ranking as one of the worst.

As she took the next call she noticed a Highlands County Sheriff come up to the window. The blond man, dressed in a dark green uniform said something to Max. Max replied and gestured at her as he did so. Probably telling him he couldn’t just barge into the control room.

The call was from another regular listener, who laughed. Is it ratings week or something? he asked her. That’s a weird gimmick.

Her mouth dropped open slightly. The call was no gimmick. I had nothing to do with it.

Oh, I know you didn’t, Sandra, the guy on the phone chuckled. Just trying to lighten the mood – the caller was quite a downer.

I’m starting to think it was some sick practical joke, she said, her eyes on the clock. You have anything else to add? If not, I’m up on time here…

Naw, just keep on keeping on, woman. You have the truth on your side, and I bet even ‘Lucifer’ knows that.

Thanks for that, she said as she disconnected the call. I know we have more people who want to weigh in on what happened, but I need to earn my keep here, and that means I need to play a few commercials. We’ll wrap things up after this.

With that she let the computer take over with an ad from a local car dealership. She pulled her headphones off and wiped at the sweat on her face. She noticed her fingers trembling slightly as she muted her mike once again.

The door to the control room opened and Max stuck his head in. You able to finish up, Sandra? he asked. You look a little shook.

I’ve got it, Max, she assured him. There’s not much of the show left, anyway.

Good, he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Cop here wants a word with you after the show’s over, okay?

Sure, it’s not a problem, Sandra said. I don’t know what I can tell him though.

Max shook his head, frowning. That was some strange call. I’ve never had something like that happen in all my years in radio.

I know, Sandra said. She shuddered. It was creepy.

Yeah, Max said, shifting from foot to foot. Well, you finish up here and then talk to the cop, okay?

No problem, Max, she said, giving him a salute. The station manager bobbed his head in a nod before pulling the door to the control room shut.

Sandra slipped her headphones back on and took a couple of deep breaths. She could handle this. She only had to maintain her composure a few more minutes before her show was done.

Once the final commercial finished playing, she started her bumper music and put her mike back on. "And we’re back for the final moments of what has proven to be a most interesting show. I’ve got time for one more caller, so let’s get to whoever’s been waiting