Danger at Dusk

By Lisa Perkins

It's summertime and a serial killer roams the streets of New York City. Dressed in a hoodie and dark clothing, he lurks in the shadows waiting for his next victim. His M.O. is killing women after dark and his weapon of choice is a knife.The police have been working overtime to catch him, but he always seems to be a step ahead of them. Women are advised not to go out after dark, but are they even safe at home? How many women have to die before he's stopped? Can the police catch him before he brings the city to its knees?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lisa Perkins
• Release date: Sep 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223409892

Lisa Perkins

Lisa was born in Parkersburg, West Virginia. She loved to read teenage romance novels growing up. She was blessed with a vivid imagination and the ability to tell stories in great detail. When she got older, her hobby became photography. She loved taking pictures and capturing moments in time forever. Storytelling, in one form or another, has always been her wheelhouse. As a teenager, she created a world with characters that she loved dearly. She abandoned that world as an adult and moved on to other things. One day, she revisited that world and those characters. She decided to take the story and make it into a book. Having never written a book before, she wasn't sure how it would go. The second she sat down to write, the story just poured out of her. That one book turned into two, and a series was born. She always had a love of dance and took dance lessons as a child. Her love of dance is what inspired her books and how The Dancer Series was created.

Book preview

Chapter  1

Marcus

A fifth victim was discovered in Central Park last

night. Twenty seven year old Melanie Palmer was stabbed multiple times in the torso, and it appears she was dragged to a more remote location in the park. She’s the third murder victim in the last five days. The killings appear to be on the rise and occurring closer together. It looks like we have a serial killer on our hands, New York. Be aware of your surroundings at all times, and be safe out there. On a positive note, the weather is looking beautiful this week.

I quickly turn off the TV in the kitchen as Marissa finishes making dinner. This whole killer thing is making me crazy and it seems to be all I can think about lately. I worry about the safety of my loved ones every time they leave the house. We’ve increased the security in our home and Marissa now carries mace on her keychain, but somehow that doesn’t seem to be enough. Mace is no match for a serial killer with a knife.

It sounds like the killer’s working overtime this week, Marissa says as she drains the water from the pasta.

It’s getting scary. I’m afraid for you to leave the house without me, and I’m constantly worrying about the girls being out and about, I reply, sliding the chair out from the table and flopping myself down.

The only good thing about the killer is that he’s predictable. He only strikes after dark. It’s easier to watch your back during the time he’s active than having to watch out for him all day, she says, setting the finished pasta down on the stove.

I slide the chair back and get up from the table. I wonder how long it’ll take him to start killing during the day, as well?

I hope it doesn’t come to that. It seems that looking over our shoulder has become a way of life for us. If someone’s not stalking us, there’s a serial killer running around New York. I’m glad we have Dale to keep us in the loop about the killer’s activity. Daddy’s been talking to him daily, she says, filling her plate with pasta.

I reach for my plate and spoon the pasta into a heaping pile in the center of the dish. It’s all been too much. First Vinny Casto, then Todd Scott, and now a serial killer. It seems like it never ends. I wish we could catch a break from it all.

The smell of the fettuccine mixed with the chicken, broccoli, and alfredo sauce is a comforting scent. And the steam rolling off the hot rolls makes my mouth water. Marissa is an excellent cook. Her meals are right up there with the best chefs in the finest restaurants. I much prefer eating at home to eating in a restaurant any day.

It looks and smells delicious, baby, I say, walking over to the table and sitting down with my plate.

Thanks, sweetie. I thought it would hit the spot after a stressful day, she says, setting her plate down on the table then sliding the chair out to sit down.

Your meals always hit the spot for me. I look forward to dinner at the end of the day, I reply, cutting the fettuccine noodles with my fork.

You’re so sweet. I love our dinners together. It’s one of the best parts of my day. By the way, we need to have the girls and their guys over for dinner soon. It’s been a while.

Yes, it has. They’re pretty cautious about going out in the evening since the murders started happening, I say before taking a sip of lemonade.

We all certainly have our guard up right now. Knowing there’s a killer lurking out there makes you nervous about leaving the house.

Our dinner conversation suddenly turns to something a little more pleasant. Discussing the killer and the murders is just too stressful for the digestive process. We finish our dinner, and as Marissa is getting up from the table to grab our empty plates, her iPhone suddenly rings from across the room. She stops and looks down at her Apple watch to see who’s calling.

It’s Daddy. I’d better take it, she says before answering the call from her watch.

Hi, Daddy.

Hi, pumpkin. I just wanted to check in and see if you guys were home safe and sound, he says through the speaker of her watch.

Yeah, we’re home, she says, gathering up the empty plates and carrying them over to the sink.

I’m glad. It’s good to know you’re both safe.   We’ve been home for a while now. We just finished dinner, she says, rinsing off the plates then loading them into the dishwasher.

I talked to Dale a little while ago. He said the woman they found in Central Park worked for a prominent attorney in the city and was engaged to be married. Apparently, she was running in the park alone. This is off the record. It hasn’t made it to the media yet.

That’s so sad. I wonder why she was out running alone after dark with a killer on the loose, she says, wiping off the countertops.

The serial killer wasn’t disclosed to the public until she was killed. They originally thought the murders weren’t connected.

That’s true, but just the fact that the murders occurred so close together is enough to make you leery of being out alone, she says, grabbing her iPhone from the counter and continuing the call from her phone.

To give her some privacy, I walk out of the kitchen and go into the living room. Sauntering across the room, I stop in front of the window, gazing out at the evening sky. Sunset is a beautiful combination of pink and purple, creating a dramatic masterpiece with the sky as its canvas.

These gorgeous summer evenings seem to lift my spirits. I love this time of year. The boughs of the trees are filled with luscious green leaves, awakened from their winter’s nap. The flowers are all in bloom, and the weather is warm and sunny...a nice change of pace from the frigid cold and snow.

You’d never guess by looking out at God’s masterpiece that there’s a serial killer on the loose in our city. Ever since we learned of the recent murders, I’ve been trying hard not to dwell on it or allow it to rule our life. But after hearing we have a serial killer on the loose, it’s hard not to dwell on it. The safety of my wife and daughters has been constantly on my mind, ruling my thoughts.

Until the killer is caught and brought to justice, we’ll always be looking over our shoulders and taking every necessary precaution to ensure our safety. New York is our home and we shouldn’t have to live in fear of a crazed killer each time we walk out the door of our home. I’m hoping the police will catch this guy sooner rather than later. I can’t handle losing another person close to me, especially Marissa.

I couldn’t make it without her.

Chapter  2

Marissa

Another day has come to a close. It was a busy day at work, choreographing new routines for our summer shows. Ruby and Randy are setting things up for an early fall tour and we’d like to have some new material to perform on the road.

It was a beautiful day filled with lots of sunshine and not a cloud in the sky. The weather has been ideal, which is why I love summer so much. It’s perfect for relaxing outside on the patio by the pool. But somehow, spending time outside doesn’t feel as safe as it used to with a serial killer on the loose.

It all started with a young woman found murdered in a parking lot across town. A week later, another woman was found in an alley with her bike on the ground next to her. Five days later, an older woman was found outside her apartment complex. A few days after that, a woman was found near Tavern on the Green. And just last night, another female victim was found in Central Park. The police are now confirming we have a serial killer on our hands.

So far, all the killings have occurred after dark. Police have been warning people to be aware of their surroundings whenever they’re out at night. I have to admit, I’ve become accustomed to looking over my shoulder. I’ve been doing it since I was married to Travis Channing. But knowing there’s a serial killer out there waiting to strike is entirely different from the ordinary paranoia.

Having an inside source within the police department definitely helps us to keep our guard up. My dad has been close friends with the police chief for many years. They went to high school together and have managed to stay close through the years. Dale has been giving Daddy inside information about the murders since they began, and knowing the killer’s moves helps keep us on our toes.

Marcus has been very concerned for my safety and the safety of his daughters since the murders started happening. Hearing that there’s a serial killer on the loose has caused him even more stress than before. He’s very protective of me and the girls, and the thought of us being in danger overwhelms him with worry. We can never seem to catch a break from fear and drama.

After cleaning up the kitchen from dinner, I stroll into the living room and find him staring out the living room window as if he were a million miles away. I wonder what’s running through his mind. It seems as if he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and that breaks my heart. I hate seeing him so stressed.

I sidle up next to him and wrap my arms around his slender waist. He gives me a warm smile and wraps his arm around my shoulders, kissing the top of my head. He smells so good...a combination of citrus, vanilla, and light musk, awakening my senses.

What are you doing in here all alone? I ask, looking up into his beautiful blue eyes.

I was just admiring the beautiful sunset. The colors were gorgeous in the evening sky, he says in a soft voice.

I missed it. I love how you notice the little things like a sunset. That’s one of the many things that make you so special, I say, gazing up at him as his eyes meet mine.

A smile spreads across his face when he hears my words. You always know just what to say to melt my heart, baby.

I speak the truth, I say in a soft voice, lifting my head and planting a gentle kiss on his soft lips.

I love you more than words could ever express, Riss, he says as our lips slowly part.

I feel the same about you, Marcus, I reply, admiring the evening sky through the window.

I still pinch myself sometimes to make sure I’m not dreaming, he says, kissing the top of my head. Did Hunter receive any new information from Dale about the serial killer?

Not really. Dale just informed him that the woman who was killed in Central Park was engaged and worked for a prominent attorney in the city. She was dressed in running clothes and Nike running shoes, and a pair of Bose headphones were lying on the ground next to her body. The fitness tracker on her wrist was still recording her run. It’s obvious she was running alone in the park when she was killed. I just don’t understand why she would be out alone at night, I say, shaking my head.

The police didn’t classify the murders as serial killings until her death. She probably didn’t give it a second thought. It was something she did on a regular basis, he says, staring out the window.

You’re probably right. I used to be out alone at all hours of the night looking for Travis when he went missing, and I never thought twice about it, I say, briefly thinking back to those moments.

I used to worry myself sick about you when you were doing that. I’m so glad nothing ever happened to you while you were out there all alone, he says and I can feel a shiver run through his body at the thought.

That’s enough talk about the serial killer and the murders. Why don’t we go out on the patio and sit by the pool? I ask, moving my arms from his waist.

I think I’d rather slip into something a little more comfortable and watch a movie in the theater room. It’s been a long day and I’m tired, he says, looking down at me.

That sounds nice. It’s kind of muggy out there anyway. Let’s go upstairs and get comfy, I say, looking up at him.

He reaches down and takes my hand then leads me out of the living room to the stairs. I love quiet evenings at home with him watching movies in the theater room. It takes our minds off what’s going on for a little while.

He leans over and steals a kiss before we head up the stairs to the bedroom to change clothes. Even with danger lurking outside, I feel safe with him. He’s always made me feel safe and secure in an uncertain world, and that’s another of the many things I love about him.

Chapter  3

Randy

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What’s for dinner, babe? I ask, strolling into the kitchen and plopping down on the barstool at the island.

Chicken Marsala with roasted potatoes and sauteed spinach, Robin replies, stirring the pan of chicken with a wooden spoon.

It smells amazing. I can’t wait to sink my teeth into it, I say, watching her open the oven door to check on the potatoes. It seems like she’s a million miles away.

Thanks. It should be ready in a little while, she says, closing the oven door.

Is something wrong? You seem distant, I say, furrowing my brow in concern.

I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be distant. It’s just that I’m a little concerned after hearing there’s a serial killer out there running free. I know several murders have occurred lately, but I never considered it could be the work of a serial killer until they confirmed it on the news, she says with a look on her face I’ve never seen before.

It was a surprise, but I kind of suspected there was something more to it than just random murders. The woman in Central Park was the fifth victim. She never should’ve been out jogging alone after dark, I say with an arched brow.

How do you know she was out jogging? They didn’t mention that on the news, she says, giving me a strange look.

I just assumed she was out jogging. Why else would she have been in Central Park alone after dark? I ask, shifting positions on the barstool.

I don’t know. I guess it makes sense that she was jogging in the park, she says, pulling the potatoes out of the open oven with oven mitts on her hands.

Enough talk about the serial killer. If you talk about it too much, you can make yourself crazy. Let’s talk about something more pleasant, I say, watching her set the potatoes down and turn off the stove.

My agent called today. He has a script he wants me to read for an upcoming movie. The director is considering me for the leading role, she says in a much more upbeat voice.

I jump up from the barstool and start setting the table for dinner as she sets out the food. That’s great, babe. Are you going to take the job?

I have to read the script before I make a decision. I never take an acting job without reading the script. If it’s not something I approve of, I don’t take it on, she says, taking the wine glasses out of the cabinet and setting them down on the table with a bottle of wine.

I’m proud of you for sticking to your convictions. A lot of actors would take on any role for the money and acclaim. I love that you’re selective of the roles you choose, I say in a prideful voice as I slide out the chair and sit down at the table.

The way I see it, I can afford to turn down roles if it’s not what I want to take on. For me, it’s all about the character I’m portraying in the film or series. The pay is just a bonus at this point, she says, pouring us some wine.

I’m honored to be married to a famous actress. I still don’t know what you see in an ordinary guy like me, I reply, twirling the wine glass in my hand before taking a sip.

You’re far from ordinary. You drew me in the day I met you at the dance studio and you walked me to the elevators, she says with a seductive grin on her face.

Oh, yeah? Well, you had a hold on me that day, too. And that was uncharted territory for me, I say, watching her set the food down on the table.

I still find it hard to believe that you were once a playboy. I just don’t see that in you, she says, sliding the chair out and sitting down at the table.

"You can believe it. I was a playboy at one time. I spent every evening at the nightclub, drinking and picking up women. Then you came along and made me into a one woman man," I say, reaching for the Chicken Marsala.

That’s good, because I wouldn’t want to share you with anyone else, she says, scooping potatoes out of the dish and onto her plate.

You’ll never have to share me with anyone. I’m all yours. The food looks and smells delicious, I say, closing my eyes and inhaling the steam from the chicken, taking in the scent.

I hope you like it. It’s a new recipe, she says, taking a sip of her wine.

I take a bite of the chicken and my taste buds come to life. It melts in my mouth. Babe, this is absolutely delicious.

I’m glad you think so. I was a little worried you might not like it, she says, spooning it out and onto her plate.

You’re an excellent cook, and I’m really not that picky when it comes to food. I was a bachelor  who lived on frozen dinners and fast food for years. There’s not much I don’t like, I say, chuckling at the thought.

I’m glad you’re not picky. I like to try new dishes and it’s nice to know I can do that with you.

What am I going to do if you take on that acting role? Who’s going to cook for me? I guess it’ll be back to fast food and frozen dinners, I say, giving her a pitiful pout for sympathy.

I’d prepare meals for you on the weekends and put them in the freezer for you to reheat after work. And if you got bored at home by yourself, you could always come by the set and watch me work, she says, taking a bite of her chicken.

That’s very sweet of you. Then I wouldn’t starve to death. I could still come home from work to a home cooked meal. But I probably wouldn’t get bored here by myself. I’m sure I’d find something to do in the evening until you got home, I reply, fidgeting in my seat.

She arches her brow and looks at me for a moment before taking a sip of her wine. I think the whole serial killer thing is making her edgy. People seem to have their guard up lately with the murders occurring so frequently. And since the victims are always women, that only intensifies her fears. We can only hope the killer is caught soon.

Chapter  4

Ruby

As I’m standing in my walk-in closet sifting through every piece of clothing I own, it suddenly occurs to me that maybe I’m trying too hard. I have a date with Don tonight, but we’re not going out. Instead, he’s picking up a pizza and spending the evening at my house watching movies and hanging out.

We had originally planned on going out to dinner and to a movie afterwards. But after hearing on the news that there’s a serial killer running amok in the city, we decided it was best to stay in where it’s safe tonight. The last thing I want is for either of us to become the killer’s next victim.

So, why am I searching for the perfect outfit to sit around the house in tonight? It’s just a casual date with a guy I enjoy spending time with. What’s the big deal? I’m sure he couldn’t care less what I’m wearing anyway. Still, I like to look my best. I guess that’s a girl thing. So...will it be jeans and a t-shirt, or capris and a polo shirt? And which shoes should I wear? One thing at a time, Ruby...one thing at a time.

I finally decide on my white capri pants and hunter green polo shirt with my Kate Spade loafers. The shirt is one of my favorites for summer in my favorite color and pairs well with my white pants. And the shoes just show off my sense of style. I don’t know why I try so hard to impress this guy. After all, we’re just dating. Because I like him.

Just as I’m slipping on my shoes, my phone rings. I reach across the bed to the nightstand and grab my iPhone from the wireless charger. Don’s name is the first thing I see when I look down at the phone. I swipe the screen to answer the call then lift the phone to my ear.

Hi, Don, I say in a casual voice.

Hey, Ruby. I thought I’d check in with you before I start heading your way. Do you still want me to pick up a pizza on the way over? he asks.

Absolutely. I have several movie options in mind for us, as well, I say with a silly grin on my face.

Do you now? Let me guess...chick flicks, he says with a chuckle.

No...not all of them...maybe one, I reply, trying to hide the excitement in my voice.

His amusement turns into a belly laugh in my ear. That’s what I thought. We’ll discuss it when I get there. I’ll see you in a few.

I’ll be here, I say before ending the call.

Don’s a hoot. His laughter is definitely contagious. I slip my phone into the pocket of my capris and head into the bathroom to see how I look in the mirror. I guess I look presentable enough.

I’d forgotten how much work it is preparing for a date. It’s been years since I’ve done this, and I’ve gotten out of practice. I never had any intentions of dating after my divorce. I was determined to live the single life and be free after all those years of marriage. But sometimes life takes an unexpected turn when we least expect it. The truth is, I can’t remember the last time I felt so excited about something and it’s a good feeling.

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As I’m walking across the floor in the living room, I suddenly hear a noise out back. I stop in my tracks as if my feet were frozen to the floor. My heart feels like a fist pounding the inside of my chest. With all of my strength, I force myself to go over to the window and peek out. Peering through an open slat in the closed blinds, I scan the area to see if anyone’s out there. Fear trickles like ice water through my veins at the thought of the killer being in my back yard or prowling around my house.

Maybe it was my imagination. I have been on edge since I heard the news of the serial killer. My mind is just playing tricks on me. I lower the slat and walk away from the window, heading for the kitchen.

The sound of Don’s car pulling into the garage is the first sound I hear as I walk into the kitchen. As usual, his timing is impeccable.

A sense of relief washes over me as I walk over to the garage entry door and open it for him. His arms are full as he walks into the kitchen. He plants a kiss on my lips before setting everything down on the counter. I’m so glad he’s here. I feel safer already.

You certainly had your hands full,