Spells Murder (A Todd Williams Story)

Spells Murder

  A Todd Williams Story

  by

  Maxwell Cunningham

  Todd Williams’ retirement is cut short when he discovers a mutilated corpse near his beachside home in Myrtle Beach. In a note left on the body, the killer vows to strike again each day. As the bodies pile up and body parts go missing, Todd teams up with a local detective to put together the pieces of a puzzle that will lead them to a shocking discovery about the killer’s true intentions.

  Copyright © 2013 by Maxwell Cunningham

  www.maxwellcunningham.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  WARNING: This book contains adult language and situations that are not suitable for children.

  * * *

  Day 1

  Todd Williams wiped the sweat from his face and listened to the squawking of the seagulls that flew overhead. His body baked in the sun, and the smell of the salt water filled his nostrils. He looked out at the crashing waves that glistened in the afternoon sun. It was the end of March, and North Myrtle Beach was still relatively void of vacationers.

  As he looked out at the ocean, only a few people blocked his view as they strolled past, mostly people who owned the few houses that were not rental properties. Even some of the owners of the beachside rental houses would occupy their houses before the offseason had concluded and peak season hit. Even with the lower rates they offered, most people chose to vacation over the summer. As a beach-side homeowner, Todd did not plan to rent his house out during peak season. He wanted to stay there all year long, regardless of the astronomical rents that such houses commanded during peak season. Besides, it was his only residence, and he couldn’t imagine himself being anywhere else.

  Todd left out a great sigh and turned to face his wife, Melinda, who sat to his left in a blue and white striped beach chair identical to his. “I know I say this every day, but moving down here was a fantastic idea,” he said.

  Melinda smiled. Her brown eyes matched her wavy hair that flowed down past her shoulders. “It sure was.”

  Todd returned his gaze to the Atlantic and could practically feel the stress drip from his body. He had learned from his most recent visit to his new doctor that his blood pressure was much lower since he arrived to the area. Though memories of his past lingered, he found solace in his new life.

  They lay in their reclined chairs until their beachside home behind them hid the sun and they were left in the shadows.

  “Let’s pack it in,” Todd said.

  Todd folded up his chair, stepped into his sandals, and secured the straps around his ankles. Melinda did the same, and they walked the seventy-odd paces to their back doorstep. The warm sand tickled his toes as he walked towards the two-story house that they had recently purchased. A single flight of wooden steps led to the back porch that sat about nine feet above the rocks below. The wood of the porch was cracked from years of sun exposure. Todd knew the house was a fixer-upper, but now that he was in retirement, he was able to tackle one project at a time. He told himself that the back porch was the first thing to fix. He knew a coat of sealant would do the trick, but every time he was ready to start the job, he looked out at the calming scene, and every time, decided that the project could wait another day.

  As they walked towards the sliding screen door that led to the kitchen, he saw Melinda’s hand point towards the chipping wood. “When are you going to—”

  “—Tomorrow,” Todd said, smiling. “I’ll get to it tomorrow.” He was unsure if he would actually do what he had promised. In his mind, he was in retirement, so it can always wait till tomorrow. He had spent years doing today what could be pushed off until tomorrow. Now he would revel in the fact that he could do the opposite. He could procrastinate if he wanted to and nobody would die as a result. Nobody’s lives were in his hands, and he was glad.

  Once unlocked, he slid the door to the left.

  “After you,” he said.

  “I’m going to take a quick shower,” she said.

  “Go get started,” he said. “Maybe I’ll join you…”

  Melinda giggled. “Todd, you’re so bad.”

  He smiled and looked into her eyes before she turned around and entered the kitchen.

  “I try,” he said.

  He heard her sandals clap against the Pergo flooring in the kitchen as she walked to the refrigerator. Outside, he heard the occasional gust of wind and the chatter of seagulls. He took a deep breath and thought for a moment of how happy he was.

  His thoughts of happiness were stopped cold by a horrifying scream. Todd raced to the edge of his porch and peered down the beach in the direction from which the scream came. His heart raced at the sound that reminded him of the horrors of his old life, the one he had left back in Edinboro.

  For a moment, he thought his symptoms of post traumatic stress disorder were reemerging. Perhaps the scream was a figment of his imagination. He had come so far in his treatments and meditation, but perhaps a small sliver of his past had come back into his mind in the form of a sickening scream.

  Then he heard Melinda’s voice behind him. “What was that noise?” she asked. “Is someone in trouble?”

  The fact that she heard the same sound confirmed that it wasn’t an auditory hallucination. Someone was in danger.

  Todd turned around and looked at Melinda, who had a concerned look on her face. “Lock the door,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  Her voice was quelled with fear. “Be careful, Todd.”

  Todd returned to the warm sand and surveyed his surroundings. His arm instinctively moved towards his side where he normally holstered his beloved .38 Smith and Wesson Special though it was not there. He reached into his pocket, but all he found was his cell phone. He knew there was no time to waste in running up to their bedroom and grabbing his gun from the lockbox. No time when someone was in trouble.

  The beach was empty since most beach-goers were fixing dinner after a long day of uninterrupted sunshine. Before he could move, he heard a second scream, this one more blood-curdling than the first. He ran in the direction of wretched sound, unsure of what he’d discover. In his mind, he thought of all of the possibilities. He prepared himself for an atrocious scene, one out of the nightmares he used to have on a nightly basis. The nightmares that had been becoming more rare.

  He expected to hear a third scream, but it did not come. As he ran, he looked for any sign of life, but there was none. A few people ran onto their back porches and looked around, but none joined Todd to search for the source of the terrible screaming.

  On his left, large dunes separated the beach from the sandy street. He alternated his gaze between the vacant beach and the dunes. The beachgrass swayed in the increasingly hostile wind. Perhaps a wicked storm was brewing, appropriate for the storm in his mind that had been pacified for so long. Part of him hoped the scream would be from a couple who was fooling around, maybe from a day of drinking too many martinis on the beach. He knew that was wishful thinking. He knew that it wasn’t as innocent as that.

  He continued to scan the dunes, and noticed something dark in the sand. He ran closer and saw a dark human form lying amongst a plethora of beachgrass. A body.

  He ran towards the body and, in seconds, realized it was that of a woman facedown in the sand. Her right foot was buried in the sand, with only the top of her pale ankle visible.

  Todd spoke with caution. “Ma’am. Are you okay?”

  No response.

  H
e stepped closer.

  “Ma’am?”

  Still no response. He crouched down next to her and saw blood dripping from a gash in her throat. Drop by drop, it reddened the sand below.

  He studied her face and saw something sticking out from her closed mouth.

  His voice was quiet. “What in the world?”

  He stood up, retrieved his cell phone from his shorts pocket, and dialed 911.

  After a single ring, the operator answered. “Is this an emergency?”

  Todd looked at the woman who lay motionless on the sand. Then he quickly turned his gaze to the dark clouds near the horizon. “I found a dead woman along the dunes,” Todd said.

  “Are you sure she is dead? Please use your—”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” Todd said. “Her throat is slashed. Blood is everywhere.”

  “We’ll send someone right away. Please stay where you are.”

  Todd pocketed his cell phone and waited. He looked at the body, hoping to see any sign of life from her. No movement from her torso from breathing. No twitching from her extremities. She was motionless, and he knew she would remain that way. There was no doubt in his mind.

  Five minutes elapsed before he heard distant sirens growing in volume. A minute after he heard the first sign of help, an ambulance and an unmarked cop car arrived at the scene.

  A single medic, wearing all white, rushed from the ambulance and crouched down next to the woman. Todd looked at the thin, blond-haired man who looked no more than thirty-five as he viewed the gaping wound in her neck. The medic moved towards the woman’s feet and brushed the sand from her right foot. Todd stepped back in horror when he saw the stump where her foot used to be and the fresh blood that flowed from it. “Looks like her foot was cut off recently. How long ago did you find her?” the man asked.

  “Less than ten minutes ago,” Todd said. “I was at my house when I heard a scream. Then I rushed over and found her like this.”

  Todd heard a car door slam and moments later heard a deep voice from behind. “I’m Detective John Markley and this is Officer Sam Riley. We need to ask you a few questions.”

  Todd turned around and his mouth opened slowly, but before he could speak, the detective’s voice began: “Please state your name.”

  “Todd Williams.”

  The detective’s eyes squinted and he cocked his head slightly. He wore thick-framed glasses and donned a bristly mustache. He scratched the top of his balding head and left out a great sigh. “Todd Williams, where do I know that name?”

  “I was an officer in Edinboro—”

  “That’s right. Remember that, Riley? That was a mess up there,” John said.

  “Yeah, a big mess,” Todd said. “I’m retired now.”

  “I don’t blame you after that charade,” Riley said, his voice a bit higher than John’s. Unlike the detective, his head was covered with thick, blond hair that flowed over his tanned forehead. His bright blue eyes looked out of place.

  “So tell me, Mr. Williams,” John continued, “did you see anyone other than this woman? Perhaps someone running from the scene.”

  “Only a few people on their porches on the way here,” Todd said. “I heard her scream twice and found her just the way you’re seeing her now.”

  The detective crouched down and viewed the body. “The foot was cut off post mortem,” John said. “No way she would only scream twice while being cut apart.”

  The medic lifted the leg. “This isn’t a hack-job,” he said. “This guy knew what he was doing. The cut is very clean.”

  “How long did it take you to find the body after you heard the first scream?” John asked.

  “Not long. Five minutes at most.”

  “That’s quite a quick amputation,” the medic said.

  “Premeditated,” John said. “Like the perp targeted his victim and knew that he wanted to take her foot…but why?”

  Todd heard another vehicle arrive at the scene. Riley looked at the medic. “The coroner is here,” he said.

  The medic stood up and walked towards the arriving coroner. Todd looked back at the detective while the coroner pronounced the woman deceased. Riley walked away and began securing the scene and ensured that anyone on the site was properly logged and finger and shoe-printed. Todd heard the clicking of cameras and saw more people arriving on the scene.

  Todd saw John walk towards the woman’s head. In moments, he heard his voice. “Well what do we have here? Riley, come check this out.”

  Riley ran over to the detective and wringed his gloved hands together. “What’s up, sir?”

  “Fish this…whatever it is…out of her mouth.”

  Todd watched as Riley pried the woman’s mouth open and retrieved a soggy slip of paper.

  “What does it say?” John asked.

  Riley stared at the note for a minute and then let out sigh. “I haven’t seen anything like this before.” He cleared his throat and read the letter out loud.

  Todd listened carefully as the officer spoke.

  “It says ‘And so here begins the bloody game, the one I was destined to start. Blood will spill once daily until you stop me, if you can. Let the games begin.’”

  “Good lord,” John said. “We have a sick bastard on our hands.”

  John, Riley, and Todd stood in silence as several men and women continued to comb the scene for clues. Todd heard the waves crashing down in the distance as the seagulls continued their rant. He thought about the letter and felt his stomach turn. His new life of serenity and calmness would be no more. Not with a killer on the loose.

  Finally, with a somber tone, John repeated the last line of the note: “Let the games begin.”

  * * *

  Shortly after sunset, the crime scene was cleared. The body was transported to the coroner’s office to undergo a thorough autopsy, and any miscellaneous evidence was taken to the lab for DNA and other testing.

  Todd walked along the empty beach back to his house and felt the cooling sand tickle his feet.

  “Let the games begin,” he said under his breath. “So much for retirement.”

  The lights from the seaside houses did little to illuminate the shore. Along the way, he often looked over his shoulder, unsure of whether or not he would be victim number two. Can’t be, he thought. Only one victim a day. But he had no way of knowing if the killer would cap the body count to only one a day. Perhaps he would make an exception. Todd didn’t want to be the exception.

  Back at his house, he locked the door behind him. He double checked the deadbolt before greeting Melinda with a solemn nod.

  “What happened?” Melinda asked. “Was someone hurt?”

  “More than hurt,” Todd said. “Killed.”

  Melinda’s eyes widened. “Killed?”

  Todd walked to the kitchen island, pulled a stool out, and sat down. “Just when I thought we were somewhere safe for a change,” he said. “Now there’s some lunatic roaming around…”

  “How were they—”

  “Slit throat. I found the woman face down in a sand dune. Poor thing didn’t know what hit her. Her foot was cut off.”

  Melinda’s expression reflected extreme disgust.

  Todd continued: “It’s horrible, I know. And they found a note in her mouth—”

  “A note?”

  Todd nodded. “They need to catch this guy, Melinda. Whoever it is wrote something about killing one person a day…until they catch him. I’m not sure how good the authorities are here, but they have their work cut out for them.”

  “Oh my,” Melinda said.

  “Yeah. And I was the first on scene, so they don’t have any witnesses. There will be more blood spilled, I’m sure. This guy knew what he was doing. Times like this I’m glad we have an alarm system.”

  “So what are we going to do, Todd?”

  Todd looked at Melinda with a look of concern. “Hunker down and let them do their job, I suppose. What else can we do?”

  “Maybe you can help them. You
have a lot of experience with—”

  “I can’t get involved. I’m not a cop anymore. I’m retired and want to stay that way. Besides, citizens shouldn’t interfere with a criminal investigation, and that’s exactly what I’d be doing. I’d be interfering.”

  “I suppose you are right.”

  Todd stood up and meandered to the refrigerator. He opened the door and felt the cool air rush towards him. “So what’s for dinner?”

  “So you’re just going to pretend like nothing is going on?” Melinda asked. “We need to figure out what to do.”

  “Nothing we can do but lock our doors and be aware of our surroundings,” Todd said, leaning his head into the refrigerator. “We aren’t pretending that nothing is going on. We’re simply going to let the police do their jobs.”

  “Assuming they know how…”

  “That’s all we can do,” Todd said.

  Melinda sighed.

  Todd closed the door to the refrigerator and walked towards Melinda. He wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear. “Baby, you know I’d never let anything happen to you. I’m here to protect you.”

  Melinda’s soft voice made its way into Todd’s ear. “I know.” She took a deep breath and when she exhaled, it tickled his ear. “I know.”

  Following dinner, which consisted of two microwave entrees, they put on their pajamas and, like normal, nestled on the couch. The only thing that was different was the fact that Todd had his .38 sitting on his lap.

  The sun had set an hour prior and their house was shrouded in darkness. Todd stroked his gun nervously as he looked at the front door. Every so often, Todd saw the glow from their motion detection lights at the front of the house, between two garage doors. Perhaps it was set off by the small tree they had in the front yard. When the winds picked up, the branches would sway and sometimes set off the detectors. Todd hoped it was something as simple as that. He stared into the foyer and saw the light pour through a small window near the top of the front door. Maybe it’s the tree again, he thought. Or maybe that crazy bastard is on my front lawn, plotting his entry.

  Todd clenched his fists and pursed his lips. No, he thought. Can’t be. Only trees in the wind. Trees in the wind. Several minutes later, the lights turned off and darkness consumed the front porch.