Murder on Knollwood

By Marshall Prescott

Deputy Derik Paulson’s sixteen years of service was suddenly derailed when he was arrested for murdering his wife’s lover. When he is attacked in jail, the staff punish him by putting him in the hole. How will he ever be able to prove his innocence?

• Language: English
• Publisher: LifeRich Publishing
• Release date: Aug 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9781489748300

Marshall Prescott

Author, Marshall Prescott draws from his thirty years of law enforcement services in different positions and his personal experiences to craft his books.

Book preview

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CHAPTER 1

Derik Paulson yawned as he drove his squad car home. There was an orange glow on the horizon, indicating daybreak soon and he wanted to be there to wake the children and help them get ready for school, one of the few things that still gave him pleasure. Both Andrew and Bethany enjoyed not having to take the bus and it gave him some precious time with them. Though it seemed like a small thing, he knew one day his parenting efforts would be worth it. For now, he would settle for having their morning conversations on the way to school. A smile formed on his face just thinking about his kids when the radio barked to life.

Twenty-three eleven, twenty-three eleven, do you copy?

Oh crap! Less than five miles from home. If I don’t answer, maybe she’ll call one of the other deputies. But he thought better of it. His conscience wouldn’t allow him to shirk his responsibilities.

Twenty-three eleven, do you copy? He could hear the urgency in her voice.

Go ahead. I haven’t gone ten-seven yet. He let go of the transmission button and added, I was hoping to in a few minutes.

I just got a call from a woman located at seven forty-nine Knollwood Drive in Baxter. She said the neighbor boy found a guy lying in the driveway with a lot of blood around him. The boy’s at her residence located next door.

Ten-four. He activated his red lights and siren.

Derik accelerated fast, the speedometer pushing one hundred miles per hour. His heart pumped. That body was just down the street a few blocks from his house. He hoped that this call was just an elderly person who had fallen or injured himself. After all, this was Baxter, Minnesota. The epitome of tranquility.

Slowing down, he turned off the highway onto Knollwood, a residential neighborhood. Even though it was pre-dawn, children could be walking or jogging with their parents before the school buses began their routes. Derik didn’t want to have an accident while responding to this emergency. He couldn’t live with himself if he hit or killed a child.

Arriving at the scene, on his left he saw an elderly lady standing beside an adolescent male. The boy appeared to have been crying, eyes red and swollen. Twenty-three eleven, one hundred, I’m on the scene, he said into his personal mic.

To his right, as he exited his squad car, Derik saw a figure in the driveway that was in front of him. He called to the woman, who he recognized as Hazel Anderson, and asked if they were okay without removing his eyes from the body and the immediate area. Both woman and child nodded in stunned silence, though Derik didn’t see them.

Deputy Paulson scanned the area around the house, yard, and body as he walked up to the lifeless figure. He observed a large pool of blood as he knelt to check for a pulse. There didn’t appear to be any threats in the immediate vicinity, so he continued to assess the scene. It was dead calm. No wind; no breeze; no birds chirping. This quiet gave him a sort of eerie feeling. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was strange. He told himself that he needed to focus on the body and determine what had happened.

His radio broke the silence abruptly causing him to jump to his feet.

Are you okay twenty-three eleven? the dispatcher asked, genuinely concerned for his safety.

Yes, yes, I’m ten-four, but you need to send the coroner and some reinforcements to my location. We need to get this scene contained A.S.A.P. before the neighborhood comes to life.

Derik stood on the victim’s right side and could see this was plainly a homicide scene. The head had been struck with something, leaving part of his face disfigured with portions missing. There was blood spatter on the wall of the garage, but not on the door. Why? He made a mental note of that small and seemingly insignificant detail.

It was a gruesome and violent scene and Derik’s chest tightened as he felt empathy for the victim and his family. From the looks of the assault, he figured they would not be able to positively identify the man. It was George Thompson’s residence, and although Derik had golfed with George a time or two, he still could not I.D. this body. Undoubtedly, they would need to use fingerprints and dental records before they could confirm his identity.

Light footsteps sounded behind him. Derik put his hand on his duty weapon, drew it and held it by his side as he spun around to see what threat was approaching him. The killer could still be nearby. Instead, he found himself looking into the face of the young boy who had first discovered the body. The child seemed even smaller now than when he had first arrived.

The boy began to speak, but stopped in mid-sentence when he noticed that Derik had his weapon out next to his leg.

Derik didn’t recognize the wide-eyed adolescent right away, but he could tell the boy was scared just the same. Are you the one that discovered the victim? he asked with a low steady voice, trying not to traumatize him further.

Yeah, I found him. Is he really dead?

Derik asked, What’s your name?

Chad, Chad Johnson, he answered as he peered around Derik to see the body again.

Okay Chad, I want you to go back to Mrs. Anderson’s house and stay there until I come over there to talk with you. Can you do that for me? Derik asked.

Yeah, sure, if you say so Officer Derik.

He immediately scanned his memory, trying to figure out how this child might know him well enough to use his first name without an introduction. Moments later Derik realized that Chad and Andrew played baseball together on occasion at the park. When the kids would ask Derik how they should address him if they should encounter him in his official capacity, he had said to call him Officer Derik, so he would know they were friends with his children.

I just wanted to see if he was okay, that’s all. Chad said as he turned and walked back to Mrs. Anderson’s house where she waited. Derik re-holstered his weapon.

He could hear the sounds of distant sirens. Soon they would arrive and the eerie quiet would become a flurry of activity. He radioed the dispatcher and requested she contact the Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension located in nearby Brainerd. He wanted them to process the scene. Those crime scene technicians knew how to process a scene efficiently and accurately. They had all the latest equipment and technology in their arsenal. They would bag, tag, and categorize the evidence with speed and integrity, which would provide many benefits with court testimonies when the time came. Derik thought this was the most efficient way to determine the facts and evidence so they could begin to understand what happened and just who they should be looking for. The sooner this violent killer was caught, the sooner Derik could rest. After all, this was his neighborhood. His family lived, played, and attended school here.

Derik looked at the scene around him one last time before everyone arrived. Soon the noise from the sirens and emergency response teams would awaken everyone in this sleeping neighborhood. Except for the victim!

With the victim’s face unrecognizable Derik was thinking this homicide was personal. From the violent nature of the assault, it was evident that the killer knew the victim and was extremely angry about something. Why? What led up to the assault? What possible reason would the killer have to cause this degree of violence?

Derik shook his head. He knew this small community would be shocked to learn that they now had the first murder to be recorded since the town had become an actual chartered city. It was never going to be the same again. Nor would he be the same again either, after responding to this scene in his own neighborhood.

He wanted to make certain that he was doing his best, making sure he maintained the integrity of the crime scene. He didn’t want any factual or pertinent information lost before it could be processed, and he wanted the perpetrator prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Obviously, he didn’t want the murderer loose in his neighborhood. This crime had to be solved immediately. The perpetrator had to be put behind bars where he could not do this to anyone ever again.

When reinforcements arrived, Derik and two other officers entered the house and searched it for suspects, additional victims, and clues as to what had happened. They discovered that the killer had entered through the rear door of the residence, where there were signs that the door had been jimmied.

There were more signs that the initial struggle began in the living room near the front door of the residence. When they finished searching the home and were satisfied that no threats were present, they joined the others outdoors with the victim. They were already erecting a tarp to prevent gawkers from seeing the gruesome scene and preventing weather from contaminating the scene as well.

After the Bureau of Criminal Apprehension arrived and began to process the crime scene, Derik headed to Hazel Anderson’s home to interview both her and Chad Johnson.

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CHAPTER 2

The deputies filtered in one-by-one, sleep deprived, but anxious to learn what information was known or unknown, and who was suspected of such brutality.

Derik was no stranger to functioning without sleep but even he was exhausted and found himself having to concentrate to put one foot in front of the other to get to the war room for this fact-finding meeting. The Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension had taken the better part of the day to collect evidence from the crime scene and process everything into their laboratory. Looking around, Derik sensed everyone in the room was fatigued and working on pure adrenalin, like him.

Deputies talked amongst themselves, comparing notes about the evidence they had seen and their own speculations as to what happened. As Sheriff Thomas Rose entered the room a sudden hush fell as he let the door slam. He stood at the front of the room, surveying the officers and clearly relishing being the object of everyone’s complete attention. When his voice boomed, there was no question who was in control.

Alright everybody. Sit down, so we can begin, he commanded. If you weren’t smart enough to grab your java when you entered, too bad. You can get it later. We have work to do and I’m going to get started.

When the murmurs stopped, Rosie, as he was known by many of the older employees, began. As of an hour ago the last of the evidence has been bagged and tagged by the BCA. I can’t tell you how glad I am to have that task done. Since I have a meeting with the county board of commissioners regarding the budget, I’m going to turn this meeting over to the chief deputy, who has some things to say. Rosie exited the room without letting the door slam.

The second in command, Don Arnold, did not have to stand for everyone to see him. He was the total opposite of Rosie—tall and in pretty good shape despite the fact that he smoked a pipe, which was usually in his mouth. Sometimes when he spoke smoke would escape from his lips. Things appeared to come naturally to him without much effort. Knowing this about the chief deputy, few wanted to challenge his authority. He was seated under the Smoke Free sign with his signature pipe hanging from his lips while he addressed his underlings.

We think the victim is George Thompson, although it’s going to take more time to make a positive identification due to the blunt force trauma that caved in his face and skull, Arnold said as tendrils of smoke curled up from his pipe.

He took another breath. From some of the preliminary BCA information it appears the altercation began inside the residence and then, for some reason unknown to us, it continued into the garage, and finally ended in the driveway just a few feet from the garage door. There was no blood splatter present on the door, indicating that it was in the up position at the time of the assault. However, it was in the closed position when Paulson arrived at the scene. It didn’t appear as though the assailant touched much in the house, but the BCA is printing items that were located in the mudroom just off the kitchen area in hopes of finding latent prints that may lead to a suspect.

The chief deputy stopped talking for a moment to review his hand-scribbled notes before continuing. Oh, and another thing. Everyone keep in mind: we don’t know what triggered this assault, but it seems we are dealing with a cold-blooded killer. He beat his victim to death using blunt force to the head and face area. He had to get blood and gray matter all over himself during this beating, but that didn’t stop him. Psychology 101 indicates that the perpetrator enjoyed the assault, and he should be considered extremely dangerous. So, until he is caught and locked up, exercise extreme caution. Don’t take any chances if you think you are dealing with this individual.

Derik’s thoughts drifted off while the chief deputy continued to speak. He thought of what he could do that would speed up the effort to catch this killer. This murderer could be loose in his own neighborhood. Neither his family, nor any family for that matter, was safe until this killer was captured and locked up.

Now, I’ve revised the schedule as some of you haven’t been home in over twenty-four hours and I want you to get your beauty sleep, he heard Arnold say. When Derik realized the chief deputy was now discussing the schedule, he quickly adjusted himself in his chair, hoping no one would notice he hadn’t been paying attention.

There were a few chuckles across the room from those who hadn’t worked the past twenty-four hours. The others were far too exhausted to laugh at the remark.

Arnold read the names that were to finish their shift, Derik’s was among those. He was only too happy to go home, see his family, then get some sleep, but first he had a question for the chief deputy, Don, when will we have toxicology reports?

"Good point, Paulson. We should have some preliminary results in the next twenty-four hours. They’re putting a rush on this for us. As soon as we know anything more, I will post an update on the board here in the war room. Please be sure to keep yourselves updated on any new information.

I want to tell you one more thing this morning, he continued as he looked around the room. Sooner or later, we’ll be figuring out a suspect and I want to caution all of you. This S.O.B. is cold blooded to say the least! Do not corner him; he would probably think nothing of killing you or your partner. Make sure to use caution at all times. Be safe out there, people."

Everyone nodded but some, like Derik, had something else in mind: sleep.

Derik looked in the rearview mirror while racing home, headed west on Highway Forty-eight. He ached to get home. He hadn’t been there in over thirty hours. No wonder he was tired. He was sure his family would be excited for him to be home.

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CHAPTER 3

The drive home was surreal. He traveled the same route he had been driving when he got the homicide call, Knollwood. Derik was not only numb from the physical exhaustion, but from sleep deprivation and emotional fatigue as well.

What would he tell his family when he