Spells Murder (A Todd Williams Story), Page 2

  “What are you staring at?” Melinda asked. “Do you think someone is out there?”

  Todd shook his head. “Nobody’s out there. Just trees in the wind. Or a passing car. Besides, I’m sure with word spreading about a killer on the loose, nobody will be out tonight…until the killer is caught anyway.”

  “How do you know everyone knows already?” Melinda asked. “It’s the beginning of the peak season, Todd. People from out of town don’t sit around and watch the local news. They’ll be out and about, enjoying their vacation.”

  Todd turned on the television. “Let’s just relax and watch a movie. A comedy would be appropriate.”

  He knew he needed to get his mind off of the killing. He needed to escape.

  Melinda got up and walked into the foyer. There, she swiped her hand along the wall and flipped the switch to the front porch light. By the sound of the familiar pattern of beeps emanating from the wall mount keypad, he knew that she set the alarm.

  Todd set his gun on the coffee table and exhaled. “What do you want to watch? Weekend at Bernie’s?” he asked.

  Melinda walked back towards the couch and giggled softly. “That might be the worst movie I’ve ever seen.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Todd said. “It’s a masterpiece.”

  “I’d sooner read a mystery novel or something.”

  “Do you think reading another one of your books, where there is a mysterious murder is really the best thing for you right now?” Todd asked. “You’re already scared out of your mind. Let’s just watch a funny movie.” Todd walked over to a rack containing his collection of DVDs and looked through them. He heard the wind pick up outside as he stared at the spines of his favorite titles. Finally, he turned around and smiled at Melinda. “How about Spaceballs?”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s better than the Bernie movie, but not by much.”

  “Now that,” Todd said, his pointer finger in the air, “is a masterpiece!”

  “Sold,” Melinda said plainly.

  Todd loaded the DVD and returned to the couch. The wind picked up even more and in moments, he heard the sound of heavy rain pelting against the roof.

  “How many times have you seen this movie?” Melinda asked.

  “I lost count years ago,” he said.

  Todd saw lightning flash outside their house and heard the resulting thunder a few seconds later. A few more flashes lit up the windows and each resulted in a crescendo of thunder. Melinda grabbed his hand and squeezed tight. He pressed a button on the controller to start the movie, but before the opening credits appeared on the screen, the power went out.

  “Oh, Todd,” Melinda said.

  “Just the storm,” Todd said.

  Before Melinda could reply, the lights came back on and flickered several times before staying on.

  “See. Nothing to worry about,” Todd said.

  They watched the movie while the storm passed through. In the back of Todd’s mind, he knew there was something to worry about. He knew a killer was on the loose and could be anywhere, though the likelihood of the methodical, homicidal maniac being on their property during a thunderstorm was slim. Todd enjoyed the movie with the love of his life and tried to keep those horrible thoughts in the back of his mind. Tomorrow was another day and Todd didn’t know what would come. If the note were written by the hand of a person who kept their word, he knew horror would descend upon the community he had come to love.

  Day 2

  Todd and Melinda woke to the sun on Tuesday morning, but unlike their normal routine of drinking a smoothie and strolling along the beach, they opted for just the smoothie. A stroll was far too dangerous with a maniac on the loose.

  “We’re staying in today,” Melinda said, sipping her smoothie. “No point in risking it.”

  “How long will we be hermits?” Todd asked. “Until they find this creep?”

  “That sounds like the best plan,” Melinda said.

  “What if they never find the killer,” Todd said. “There are cases that go unsolved for years. There are some that are still unsolved. We can’t just hide in our house forever.”

  “We’ll see,” she said. She took another sip and smiled. “Good job on this smoothie. Perfect blend of yogurt, bananas, strawberries…”

  “And spinach,” Todd said with a grin.

  “I can’t taste it,” Melinda said. “That’s a good thing. I hate spinach.”

  When Todd reached the last drop of his smoothie, a loud slurp sound echoed off of the wood cabinets. He smacked his lips together to signal that he was satiated. “I know you hate it, but it’s good for you. That’s why I slip a little in every morning. I want to make sure you’re healthy.”

  “That’s why I love you, Todd. You’re so good to me.” Melinda finished her smoothie and stood up from the kitchen table. “I’ll take your cup,” she said.

  She walked over to the dishwasher and placed the cups inside.

  They loafed around for hours that morning, leaving the house only to get the newspaper and eventually the mail.

  Todd sat at the kitchen table with Melinda across from him. He looked at the front cover and saw the story about the murder the day before. “They published the note. Damn fools. The killer is probably getting off on the publicity. That’s why they leave notes in the first place. They seek all the attention they can, and since they can’t get it any other way…”

  “I think it’s good they published it,” Melinda said. “The public needs to know the intent of the killer. They need to know he intends to kill again. It’s right there in black and white.”

  Todd shook his head. “You don’t think the fact a killer is loose is enough to get people on edge? They know he killed once and people are skittish, you know?”

  “I know. I’m one of the skittish ones. And so are you.”

  “I’m sure if they are like us, they figure he’s going to do it again,” Todd said. “Killers love the rush they get. It’s addictive.”

  Melinda stood up from the kitchen table and walked slowly towards the refrigerator. “I suppose so. I’m just so worried about what today may bring.”

  “Only time will tell,” Todd said. He folded the paper in half and placed it in the middle of the table. “Let’s watch another movie or something. We can’t sit around and talk about this all day. We’ll go crazy.”

  “If I have to watch another stupid movie, I might actually go crazy,” Melinda said.

  Todd walked over to his collection of movies. He pulled out another favorite title and smiled. “I guess that’s just a risk we’ll have to take.”

  * * *

  Detective John Markley stood over a man’s body as the sun set in the west. The waves crashed nearby, and the winds from an offshore storm whipped the little bit of hair that remained on his head.

  Riley stood beside him with his slender arms crossed.

  “Another one bites the dust,” Riley said calmly.

  John adjusted his thick glasses and stared at the bloody corpse. “Just as promised, I suppose.”

  “No slit throat this time. Strangled. Look at these marks on his neck.”

  John walked around the corpse and crouched down to take a better look. “There seems to be no sign of a struggle. Maybe chloroformed from behind.” He parted the thick hair on the man’s head to check for a bruise. “Or maybe he was hit over the head to disorient him before he was strangled. No witnesses again, almost like the killer only targets loners.”

  Riley walked towards the man’s feet. “Left foot is gone from this one. His blood was draining into the sand just like yesterday’s victim, so it’s clear that he did his little surgery here. Do you remember which foot was missing from the woman’s body? Was it the left?”

  “No. It was the right foot,” John said.

  “And another note,” Riley said.

  John nodded. “Attention hog.” He looked out at the ocean and its vastness, and thought about the killings. Why was the killer taking the body parts? Wh
y was he leaving notes behind?

  “What do you think of the note, sir?” Riley asked.

  John reached into his pocket and pulled out a sealed bag that contained the second note from the killer in the same font as the first. “I think it’s written by a lunatic, but that’s quite obvious.”

  “Read it to me again,” Riley said.

  John cleared his throat and read the note aloud. “‘Day two has come and it’s obvious who is winning the game. Two to nothing is the score and what must be so maddening for you is that you only need to score a single point to win. Until tomorrow…’”

  Both men stood in silence. John thought about how accurately the note portrayed their situation. They only needed one point in the game, the point they’d earn from taking down the killer.

  “Any leads?” Riley asked.

  “None.”

  Riley shook his head. “Nothing? This guy didn’t leave a single piece of usable evidence besides the notes?”

  “Zilch,” John said. “We’re dealing with someone who is very methodical. Very precise. But one slip up, and we have him.”

  “What if he doesn’t slip up, sir? A once-and-done killer who was sloppy would be a piece of cake to catch, but I don’t remember ever dealing with such a methodic killer. We need to make sure everyone knows about this guy. Get the latest note all over the place and make sure people know that this guy hunts those who walk alone.”

  John stepped away from the corpse and lit a cigarette. “I agree, Riley,” he said, smoke now lofting up his tired face. “We need more officers on the streets to show we are not going to sit on our asses and let the bodies pile up.”

  Later, once the coroner and other crew members did their work, John and Riley were preparing to leave the scene.

  “I need to get some rest,” Riley said. “It’s almost midnight and I’m running on no sleep.”

  “You better get used to no sleep,” John said. “I’m happy with the four hours I get a night as it is. With this guy running around, I’ll probably get less.”

  “I don’t know how you do it.”

  “When you get to my age and have been doing this for so long, you’ll know how it’s done.” John smirked. “Now go get some rest and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Until tomorrow…” Riley said, repeating the last line from the note.

  John’s voice was soft as he echoed Riley. “Until tomorrow.”

  Day 3

  Todd Williams awoke in the warm bed he shared with his wife, Melinda. They had spent the previous evening watching some of his favorite movies, including Weekend At Bernie’s. Todd tried to forget about the body he found on the beach on Monday night and the fact that a killer was running free. He tried to forget about it, but his wife seemed determined to ensure it was always on his mind.

  “I wonder if they caught the killer?” she asked as her eyes creaked open after seven hours of slumber.

  Todd sighed and sat up in bed. “Maybe, but I’m sure they’re hot on the case and will catch him soon if they didn’t already.”

  “I hope they caught him,” she said.

  Todd rolled on his side to face her. “Me too. I don’t want to be holed up in here like a caged animal.”

  “So sitting around watching your stupid movies with me is that horrible?”

  “I never said that, honey bunny.”

  “Don’t ever call me that again, Todd.”

  “Sorry, cutie patutie.”

  Melinda sat up. “I’m getting a shower before you make me sick with all of these silly pet names.”

  Todd laughed. “Oh, you love it. Admit it.”

  He watched her rise from bed, her bathrobe sliding down to meet her calves. She turned around and he saw her look at him the same way she always did before she wanted him in the worst way.

  “Want to join me in the shower, Todd?” she asked.

  Todd didn’t have to think too long about the offer. “Count me in,” he said, rising from bed quicker than normal. “I could use a pick-me-up.”

  Todd grabbed her hand and they rushed into the bathroom like a couple of college kids sneaking into the communal shower late in the evening. He shut the door and turned on the shower. He looked at her as she let her robe fall to the tile flooring. Todd closed his eyes and pinched his arm. His eyes sprung back open and he smiled even wider. “Good thing I’m not dreaming,” he said. “This is where I normally wake up.”

  * * *

  Following their shower, they descended the steps and sat down in their respective chairs at the kitchen table. “Looks like a nice day out there,” Todd said. “Let’s relax on the beach.”

  “Not before we get the paper and watch some of the news, Todd. What if the killer is still at large?”

  The killer is not going to spoil my day, Todd thought as he dipped his toast into his egg yolks. He did not talk, just chewed his food and thought of a way to get his wife to enjoy the day with him.

  “Get the paper,” Melinda said.

  “Let me finish breakfast first,” he said.

  “This is very unlike you, not having the newspaper at the table while you eat your dippy eggs.”

  Todd took another bite of yolk-covered toast. He didn’t want to see the paper and the headline of another murder. He knew in the back of his mind that the killer hadn’t been caught. There was no evidence to bring the sicko to justice. Nevertheless, he did not know for sure. The killer could have not killed again and it could have been a single homicide. The note could have been written in haste and there could have been no intention for a second kill, just the desire to be a media sensation once the note had been published.

  “I’ll get it in a bit,” Todd said.

  Todd finished his breakfast and wiped the crumbs and yolk residue from his lips. His chair screeched as he pushed it backwards and stood up. He walked to the front door, opened it, and felt the warm, humid air against his face. As he walked to the mailbox, he thought about what the paper might say. He hoped that the killer was caught and the residents of Myrtle Beach could return to some kind of normal existence. He reached his hand into the mailbox and pulled out the plastic-covered newspaper. On his way back to his house, he removed the plastic and pulled the rubber band from the tri-folded paper. He opened the paper, barely looking up, and saw the headline: “Killer Strikes Again.”

  “Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

  He read the subtitle of the front-page article: “Methodical killer taunts the police with a second note.”

  “Those bastards don’t know what they are up against,” Todd said.

  Back in the house, he looked at Melinda. She wore a look of anticipation on her face. He wore the same look he always wore, in an attempt to hide the horrors from her.

  Her voice was soft. “Well?”

  “Why don’t we go just watch another movie?” Todd asked.

  “No, Todd. I want to know if there was another murder. Tell me.”

  Todd hesitated, then spoke softly. “Victim number two was found last night. One killed a day, just as promised.” While walking towards the kitchen, Todd read more of the article. “Now here we are on day three and according to this, the police don’t have any suspects. Detective Markley has a few quotes in here. He’s got his hands full, I’m sure.”

  “Oh, dear. What should we do, Todd? Do you want to leave the area for a while?”

  Todd placed the paper on the kitchen table and looked at Melinda. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to let some creep scare me out of my new home, that’s for sure. I’d sooner hunt the killer myself than leave.”

  “I thought you couldn’t get involved since you were a citizen and would be—”

  “I can’t get involved…technically. But I can be like any other citizen and keep an eye out.”

  “And leave me here?” Melinda asked.

  “I’m not sure. The killer hasn’t broken into any houses yet…”

  “Yet…”

  “We do have the alarm system and
all of the decals on our windows proclaiming that this house is protected.”

  “Todd, please. I know that the alarm system only does so much. He could scoop me up before the police arrived,” Melinda said.

  Todd continued to read the article. He looked up at Melinda before turning the page to read the rest. “Nothing in here about a break-in at this victim’s house.”

  “Doesn’t mean the killer won’t start with the third victim,” Melinda said.

  “We’ll be fine. We have guns here and an alarm. That’s more than most people around here have. Just be glad I’m a paranoid bastard. Plus, you know how to shoot. Remember when I took you to the shooting range after Edinboro? That was just a few months ago.”

  “I do,” she said. “But I still don’t feel safe. Even with the alarm and the guns…”

  “This guy will slip up soon,” Todd said, looking at the paper. “He just has to.”

  * * *

  Shadows fell across the day’s newspaper over the dilapidated workbench in a sweltering garage. The man breathed deeply as he stared at the front page article. He smiled wickedly to display dark yellow teeth between his scraggly beard and moustache. His long hair fell beyond his thick neck and covered his torn tee shirt.

  The man’s voice came out deep and slow as his finger pointed to Detective Markley’s name in the front-page article. “Markley…are you enjoying the game yet?”

  Sweat dripped down his brow as he reached for a pair of scissors and cut the article from the paper. He walked a few steps to a wall that contained several large pegboards and placed the clipping next to yesterday’s front page article describing the first murder and the killer’s note.

  His eyes peered at the articles, like a child admiring his latest drawing displayed on the refrigerator door.

  “Wait till you see who will be next, Markley. You won’t believe your eyes.”

  * * *

  Later that day, after the sun set, Detective John Markley sat in his home office, as he did every evening, to think. His wife and son were already in bed and had been for an hour. He looked at the clock on the wood-paneled wall. The minute hand on the clock was closing in on the hour hand, which pointed towards the ceiling.