The Kill Lists

By Anna Belle

A serial killer has killed two victims in the suburb of Coon Rapids, MN.  Brent Thompson and his colleagues on the police department must stop the killer before he strikes again.  As they work through the clues, they discover that the killer has developed kill lists and they or their loved ones have been targeted as victims.  Can he stop this killer before they become part of the killer's legacy of death?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anna belle
• Release date: Jun 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9798224245925

Anna Belle

Anna Belle grew up on a farm in North Dakota. She is married and has two beautiful children and three grandchildren. After retiring from her career as a  certified Facilities and Emergency Manager, Anna Belle decided to write murder mysteries where opportunities to create the art of the kill reign supreme.

Book preview

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Anna Belle was raised in North Dakota in a small farming community.  While attending college, she met her husband of forty-two years. She currently resides in Minnesota, and enjoys spending time with her children and grandchildren.  Her love of the outdoors includes indulging her hobbies of traveling, writing, kayaking, bike riding and hiking.  Anna has traveled extensively in the United States and most recently in Europe. 

Having retired early, she decided to turn to her love of writing for her next occupation. 

Anna Belle has always enjoyed the mystery of murder and looks forward to creating opportunities where the art of the kill reigns supreme.

Other books by Anna Belle

The Kill Lists

Murder by Kari, Murder by Ken

DEDICATION

To my family and friends who are always encouraging and have supported me in the efforts to become an author.

A special thank you to Bob for being an outstanding reader and editor of my work.

I could not have achieved this dream of mine without my husband Steve. He has found new ways to support the dream every day.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I want to take the opportunity to thank the following people for their assistance with the writing of this book.

Thank you to Robert Muster, Katia and Justin Allen, Travis, and Aleks Mortenson for their willingness to read the manuscript and offer suggestions to this book.

I would like to thank my husband, Steve Muster, for his invaluable experience with the world of information technology. He set up programs to keep my book safe as I was writing it. Since technology is not my strongest talent, I really appreciate the efforts of others. Thank you.

Prologue

The parents had died without any other relatives or a will that identified who became responsible for the care of a three-year-old child. Very little information was known about the child’s early years, and as the parents had only been at their new home for a short period of time, the neighbors were not familiar with the family.

The parents were nomadic, traveling around the United States and taking miscellaneous jobs wherever they went. They never stayed at any one place for very long. There didn’t seem to be any relatives that were still living.

The three-year-old had been told that one never shared information with strangers and due to the amount of moving around, rarely talked to anyone other than the parents. The child wasn’t going to share anything with the strangers who were asking. Children didn’t pay attention to places when traveling. The child probably couldn’t assist anyway with where they had stayed or details about the places they had been.

Several injuries occurred to the child from the car accident. Both arms and legs had fractured in several places. There were internal injuries requiring the spleen to be removed and stopping blood loss from internal bleeding. Bones in the face around the eye socket had been caved inward and the nose had been broken. The child was restrained by all of the casts, the incision on his stomach, and the pain in his face and body.

The child lived with pain, terror of having the surgeries that were required, and the ongoing therapy. There was an understanding that

life had changed drastically, and the child couldn’t go back to what was perceived as a normal life. Nurses tried to comfort the child, but the child did not want comfort from strangers.

The nurses never knew that the child had not received comfort from the parents either. At three years old, the child never expected or wanted to be offered any kind gesture. The parents were not loving - they did not spend a lot of time talking other than to issue directions and orders. When the child got hurt, the child was expected to not cry about it, to suffer in silence.

When the child had healed enough to be placed in the system, the system tried to place the child with loving foster parents and get the child adopted. The child felt angry and isolated, feeling ugly with all of the scars on body and soul. Social Workers and therapists had tried to get the child to open up about feelings, and the child was having fun thwarting them in their efforts. The child spoke no words in any of the sessions.

By the age of seven, the child developed a cold, unfeeling glare that unnerved anyone who faced it. When the child was placed in the various foster homes, the child would remain silent and glare menacingly at the foster parents. Foster families did not last long, and the child was returned to the system for a different placement. The child quickly developed a reputation for being difficult to place due to personality conflicts. Life had taught so many unkind lessons about punishment to the child by age nine. The child needed an outlet for the rage inside.

1

Stacy Anderson had been a real estate agent for about ten years. In her early thirties, she was doing really well for her agency and herself. She enjoyed the work even though it sometimes interfered with her personal life. Sometimes clients wanted to see a property when she already had plans for dinner out with her husband. When that happened, her husband Chris usually came with her for the showing to the client, and then they went out for dinner afterwards. He always indicated that he didn’t care as long as they could do things together.

Today, he was going to meet her toward the end of the open house as he had an important meeting with his boss. She hoped Chris would receive good news - maybe a raise or a promotion. He had worked so hard and deserved it. Besides it would help them financially, as they were planning to increase their family by adopting. She smiled as she thought of the little boy they had fallen in love with.

She was headed for a house that had a tree-lined driveway leading to the Mississippi River bluffs. The ranch-style house was located in an Orrin Thompson subdivision built in the early sixties. Thompson had built approximately 25,000 homes in a suburb of Minneapolis known as Coon Rapids. There were only three or four styles of houses in the surrounding neighborhoods, except for the houses along Mississippi Boulevard on the river side of the boulevard and East River Drive.

The houses along the river were unique - a variety of styles that were set back from the road, several with heavily wooded drives. There was more privacy with the hidden views of the house from the road. It was set on just over an acre of land, lending even more of a sense of privacy. This house was a large rambler with a walkout basement leading to the river.

Parking the car at the house, she left the front door open, removing items from the trunk of the silver Toyota Corolla to bring into the house. Stacy placed the listing items on the kitchen counter at the back of the house.

The house was a custom-built home and had an open floor plan with large floor-to-ceiling windows at the back of the house. French doors lead to a deck overlooking the Mississippi river. Stacy wondered why the owners didn’t have stairs leading from the deck to the ground level. She would want that if she owned the house.

Stacy looked at the house with the eyes of a real estate agent and sighed. This one was going to be a challenge to sell. The owner was a demanding individual who was requiring an open house on a Thursday before the Fourth of July weekend. Real estate agents usually did open houses on a Saturday and never on a holiday weekend.

There had already been an open house for the site, and no one was interested in the house at the price listed or the condition of the house. The owner refused to listen to the advice of the real estate team, which made it difficult to get the house priced appropriately. The owner was convinced that the house was bound to sell right away.

The exterior was beautiful - a combination of wood and stone that fit in with the neighborhood. The house was large at almost three thousand square feet with five bedrooms, and three baths. One of the baths was part of a master bedroom suite. It sat on an acre of land with big old pine trees and shady wooded areas. It was close to Coon Rapids Dam and had multiple parks, bike paths, and a variety of shopping. The setting had so many positives for anyone driving up to the property. Curb appeal was its most attractive quality.

Every inch of the space within needed major updating. Carpets were stained and old. The cabinetry and countertops were several decades old and had seen a hard life. All of the walls needed a fresh coat of paint. Part of the lower level was unfinished. Bathroom tile and fixtures were in really dated colors that were only popular for a couple of years.

Stacy thought, Why do people do major cost items like bathrooms and kitchens in trendy colors and concepts? Neutrals are so much easier to sell, even if the area is dated-looking. Well, time to put on a smile and gush over the opportunities for the property. If only the sellers hadn’t required top price for the opportunity to purchase a money pit and lifetime project.

Stacy did a walkthrough of the house and reviewed the listing information again so that she was familiar with the property. She quickly checked her phone to see if anyone that had her acting as their real estate agent had left her a message saying they were interested in the property.

The killer moved silently through the front door, closed and locked it. He placed his backpack of tools on the floor by the door. He moved toward the front of the house, where the woman was facing away from the front door, scrolling through information on her cell phone. He moved quietly right up behind her, with a screwdriver ready at the killer’s side. Stacy sensed a presence and turned to face the person.

Oh, you startled me. I recognize you. What are you doing here?

The killer started the screwdriver swing towards Stacy. Stacy’s blue eyes grew large and she moved back against the cabinetry. She screamed, No, don’t! What are you doing? Don’t hurt me.

The killer smiled and stabbed the screwdriver blade into her stomach and moved the blade upward, slicing it into several vital organs. Stacy groaned and clutched at the screwdriver. Pulling the blade out of her, then slamming it directly into her throat, the killer watched her eyes become empty. The killer felt a great deal of satisfaction that he had executed his latest kill of a human without any major difficulties.

It didn’t bother him killing humans. It seemed as easy and natural to him as killing a hunted animal. He loved to watch people die to see the process of the soul leaving the body. The level of satisfaction and enjoyment was quite extraordinary!

The killer went to work to stage the scene for whoever found the body. He carefully put all of the skills he had learned to work for this effort. The killer stepped back and went through his list of items to do to ensure that everything was accounted for before he left the kill site.

He removed the black bike pants and the lightweight biking jacket that were soaked with blood. In his backpack, there were the clothes that the watcher would leave with shorts and a t-shirt. Take out the disposable wipes and clean off some blood that had sprayed onto the face so there are no visible signs of what had been done. Then drop the disposable wipes and the bike gear into the backpack. Only the knob of the door to the house was touched, but the killer was wearing clear gloves, so no traces of him would be at the site. The killer would burn everything when safely away from the site.

The killer took one last look at how he had staged the scene. Did it express the message he wanted to share? Was there any evidence that he had been there other than the dead body, of course?

The killer calmly walked down the drive and made sure no cars, walkers, bikers, or joggers were coming from either direction. No neighbor was currently in their yard. The killer removed the open house sign and placed it in the woods. Stepping out into the street, he then jogged to his car to deposit the backpack. He then proceeded to jog through the Coon Rapids Dam and park area, following the normal daily routine for exercise.

2

Shelley Wagner had a routine every day that felt comfortable. She didn’t need to arrive at the office until 8:00 a.m. for the briefing with the rest of the social workers on the cases they were working on. She always stopped at the local Holiday gas station for coffee and a doughnut, as she hated to cook or eat cereal for breakfast.

She had been following the same routine for about seven years, so the people at the Holiday station knew her first name, and she made a point of always knowing theirs. There had been several changes over the years, but the one constant had always been Michael. He had risen from attendant to manager of the station.

Hey Shelley, running a little late this morning?

Yeah, Michael, forgot to reset my alarm after the weekend. Didn’t realize it got so busy in here at the later timeframe. All of the pumps are full. Is it always like this or is this unusual at this time of day? You are really down on pastry options this morning.

It is a holiday weekend coming up, Shelley. People loaded up on gas and food items and are heading out of town for the week; it looks like for the entire next week, not just a long weekend. We haven’t had time to restock yet, and the truck with the restocked pastries isn’t due for another hour. They come at mid-morning, not early morning.

Are you working over the holidays or are you going to see your daughter?

I am working. I gave the rest of the crew the holiday off. My daughter is with her mom this weekend anyway. I might as well give the others time with their families.

Shelley indicated, We will likely be done by noon and close for the holiday weekend. It will be nice to have a long weekend to go to my brother’s cabin. My mom and dad are going there too. It should be relaxing.

Someone at the pumps decided to drive away without paying for gas just as she finished paying for the coffee, so she slipped out to her SUV. Michael and the other attendants were trying to ensure they had captured the license plate correctly and contacted the police. Shelley wondered why people did that. There were cameras on every pump, so they were likely to be caught. She decided to drive behind the gas station to avoid all of the gawkers.

There were a few vehicles behind the gas station at that time of morning. Deliveries of some supplies or gas were early in the day and usually occurred in the front of the store area, blocking the traffic flow in and out of the station. More people washed their vehicles in the morning than in the afternoon. The gas station building shared real estate with two other buildings, a restaurant, and a hardware store. There were several ways to get behind the building, and the alley was long, leaving several dark nooks where the employees parked cars.

She was glad it was daylight since she avoided driving around the back of the building whenever she was driving alone in the dark. It was so dimly lit, with trees and other corners blocking the view, as well as the long alley, with fencing on one side and buildings on the other. It always felt like she was trapped on the drive with it being claustrophobic and hemmed in feeling.

She was reminded of a horror movie, where the victim always goes to the darkest areas for some logical reason known only to the victim and is exactly where the killer expects them to go. Shelley hated horror movies because she had a vivid nightmare cycle, but her best friend liked to watch them. She always ended up seeing the scene when the victim is making a horrible mistake that will get her killed in a spot similar to the one she was driving through.

3

Brent Thompson enjoyed being part of the investigative unit for the police in Coon Rapids, Minnesota, where he grew up. The town is a northern suburb of Minneapolis-St. Paul, with a population over 63,500. There are forty-eight parks with forty miles of trails and many summer and winter events within the city. Brent enjoyed taking part in those community events, meeting people and having fun.

Coon Rapids had a large police department of sixty-nine officers with several different divisions. He was a part of the Anoka Hennepin County Narcotics and Violent crime task force. They had seized just under $400,000 in cash over the past two years. Large quantities of opioids, cocaine, Meth, prescription drugs such as Fentanyl and Heroin were also seized. Brent was also responsible for the investigation of violent crimes such as homicide, armed robbery, and assaults.

He knew a lot of people in Coon Rapids from his high school days and from attendance at the Epiphany Catholic Church of Hansen Boulevard. He was just over six feet tall, with brown hair, blue eyes and an athletic build. He was popular in high school, with a wide range of friends and acquaintances. He kept in touch with them through social media, but work had taken a major toll on his ability to interact with everyone lately. He still took an active part in the church community, where he met many of the elder and youth population while serving at church functions.

He also enjoyed his opportunities to speak to the kids at the middle school for activities like D.A.R.E (Drug Abuse Resistance Education), as it directly related to the reduction in drug traffic and distribution. Usually, that helped him investigate the drug issues in the surrounding communities and assist in resolving crimes quickly. Some of the kids he talked to failed to listen and ended up as part of the drug scene in the Coon Rapids area. Sometimes he had to investigate people he knew, and that was always more difficult.

He met Sally Newbauer in the parking lot at the Coon Rapids Civic Center. Sally was in her late fifties, five foot two inches tall, slightly overweight, with big brown eyes and medium-length brown hair. She had been an integral part of the police dispatch for twenty-five years and was one of five administrative support personnel on the force. Brent trusted Sally to always give him the most up-to-date information on the station activities.

It’s going to be a rough dispatch and patrol evening with all of the traffic heading out of town for the fourth, Sally. Nothing but traffic accidents and breakdowns. You would think people would learn to tow their boats and trailers in Minnesota, wouldn’t you, if they lived here all their lives? But it seems like they never learn to maintain their tires or tow at the right weight limits.

"I know! I will put the tow truck drivers on alert for my call. But it is going to be rough going this evening and Friday evening as people try to leave town early for the holiday weekend. I am guessing I will be here a couple extra hours this evening, depending on the volume of the calls and who calls in sick.

Brent went to his desk and booted up his computer. His focus for the shift was to finish his paperwork on a recent arrest that he had made from an operation to identify methamphetamine being sold in Anoka County. They had noticed a pattern at Halloween time for the year before of meth coming into the city of Anoka and being distributed across the communities of Anoka, Blaine, and Coon Rapids. Since the big crackdown on the availability of products used to make meth, the products were no longer readily sold over the counter, and the easier route to get it into the country was through Mexico. The task force had tracked the sales and identified a home in Anoka where the sales had originated. They had found a significant amount of meth, guns and cash in the raid.

He was scheduled to share his report with the rest of the task force at the Anoka County Sherriff’s office at 9:30 a.m. on the following Thursday. He informed Sally what he would be doing after the shift report. Discussion from the day shift told Brent about a stupid prank that occurred at the high school. Two juvenile perpetrators had attempted arson at one of the locker rooms could have created a lot of destruction if someone had not pulled the fire alarm. The day shift had caught the juveniles responsible for the prank because they immediately posted their antics on social media.

Several students showed the postings to the police investigating the scene. The day shift had also resolved a failure to pay at the Holiday station from the information that the manager had supplied from the license plate.

At 3:30 p.m., Sally put out a radio call to have Brent report to a house of Mississippi Boulevard NW.

"Brent, a husband, named Chris Anderson, claims his wife Stacy was supposed to be hosting an open house at that address. He was going to meet her there for the last two hours of the showing, but she did not appear to be there. Her car is in the drive, but the house is all locked up. The open house sign is not out. He is worried and would like assistance in locating her. She is not answering her cell phone.

I called the real estate office. Her boss indicated she should be there and gave us permission to get in and check the house. I have the door code for you."

Brent indicated, I will meet the husband at the house. Please have one of the other patrols meet me there.

Brent drove to the house and saw a six-foot man pacing frantically back and forth in the driveway beside the two cars parked there. Brent got out of the patrol car as the man rushed toward him.

Are you Chris Anderson?

Yes, I am. You have to help me find my wife. She should be here; her car is right here. Where could she be?

Did you look in the windows to see if you could see her?

"I can only see in the lower windows. The balcony does not have any steps up to it, which is so frustrating because that is where she would be meeting any clients from the open house. I walked around to the back to see if I could spot her through the windows of the river, but all of the draperies are closed. That seems really strange because the drapes would be open to show off the view.

"I am going to get some more information from you. When the other officers arrive, we will look for your