Spells Murder (A Todd Williams Story), Page 3

  Almost midnight. The perfect time for him to meditate on the day’s events, though the day’s events were filled with horrors he was not used to. As a law enforcement officer in Myrtle Beach, most of his days were filled with helping out his colleagues with domestic complaints, damaged or stolen property, and hurricane recovery efforts in the region and surrounding communities. Two murders in two days by the hands of a serial killer was something that he had never seen before in his time as a detective in Myrtle Beach. He found it hard to believe. This kind of thing might happen in New York City or Houston, but not in Myrtle Beach.

  Only fifteen minutes left in day three, John thought, and still no report of a murder. The day might conclude without the promised third corpse. Perhaps the body had not yet been found. But then again, the killer wanted the bodies to be found. John knew that the killer wanted the attention. The first two murders were conducted in such a way that it was obvious. The bodies lying where they’d easily be found. The notes. The—

  The ringing of his cell phone broke his thought.

  He looked at the caller ID and saw that Officer Riley was calling him.

  “Any word of another murder, Riley?’

  There was silence on the line, then heavy breathing.

  “Riley?”

  Silence loomed.

  Then he heard a man screaming in the background. “Help me! Oh God, help me!”

  The few words turned into incomprehensible screaming, like something out of nightmares. A gurgle joined the scream and soon the wretched sound of liquid washed it away.

  The line fell silent.

  Moments later, John heard heavy breathing and the call ended.

  He pocketed his phone and hunched over at his desk. He stared at the newspaper clippings on his desk, but did not focus on the text. A tear dropped from his eye onto the newsprint. For the first time in as long as he could remember, John Markley wept.

  Day 4

  Thursday’s morning sun shone into the sliding glass window of Todd and Melinda’s beachside home. The clanking of spoons against the inside of nearly empty bowls of oatmeal joined the intermittent crashing of waves. Todd hunched over the newspaper and scoured it for clues of a third murder, but none could be found. Only articles regarding the first two victims and the lack of evidence that still plagued the investigation were included.

  “See,” Todd said, scraping the bottom of his bowl for the last remnants of oatmeal. “Nobody died yesterday. There’s nothing at all in the paper about another killing.”

  “Good,” Melinda said. “Hopefully they caught the killer.”

  “Either that or he fled the area,” Todd said. “He would have killed again if he was still in the area.”

  “That’s true.”

  “So,” Todd said, “do you want to laze around on the beach?” He tugged at his short-sleeve Hawaiian shirt and grinned. “I’m all ready to go. We could lay out and work on our tans…then later come back and take a nice hot shower together…then—”

  “—what if they didn’t catch him, though?” Melinda asked. “It would be in the paper if they did.”

  “They could have caught him over night and the news didn’t make it to press.” Todd stood up and walked towards the living room. “We’ll check the news. I’m sure if they caught him, it’ll be all over the news.”

  Todd turned on the TV as he stood between the coffee table and the couch. He felt Melinda’s hand softly rubbing his shoulder as he flipped through the channels.

  “Ooh, Gilligan’s Island,” he said.

  “Todd, please,” Melinda said. “Get to the news channel already.”

  He continued to flip channels and in several moments, came upon the local news channel.

  “Oh my God,” Todd said before his jaw dropped.

  In a small box in the right hand corner of the screen was Officer Riley’s photograph. The anchor spoke in a monotone voice. “…found dead on the front porch of one of his neighbor’s homes, his right arm removed from his body. Police ask that anyone with details call the number below…”

  Todd bent over and picked up a pen and a pad of paper that lay on the coffee table and jotted down the number.

  “Are you going to call them?” Melinda asked.

  Todd didn’t answer. He sat down on the couch and put his head in his hands.

  “You should,” she said. “Didn’t you help catch a few serial killers in Edinboro way back?”

  Todd looked up at Melinda. “Yeah, I did,” he said, “though nothing quite like this.”

  Melinda sat next to Todd. “Call them, Todd,” she said. “See if you can speak to the detective.”

  “I don’t have any information. What am I going to say?”

  “Tell him about your background, your experience. Sure you’re retired, but…”

  “…but they might need me.”

  “Exactly.”

  “No,” Todd said. “I can’t.”

  Then he looked into her eyes. He saw pure terror in her sweet, brown eyes. A look he hadn’t seen since Edinboro. And that’s when he decided he couldn’t say no to her. He couldn’t sit around and wait for the bodies to pile up when he could help capture the killer. He looked back at the paper with the number scribbled on it. He knew what he had to do. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed the number. “Okay,” he said under his breath as the he heard the first ring.

  * * *

  Todd sat in a small, wooden chair, across from Detective John Markley, who sat nervously in his leather office chair. John tapped his fingers on his cherry wood desk and looked down at a few papers that were scattered about.

  “Thanks for calling me, Mr. Williams,” John said.

  Todd thought about Melinda who was holed up in their house. He knew how scared she was and was surprised that she would suggest he leave her alone, but it was the only way. He was glad she didn’t insist on tagging along. She would be at greater risk if she did.

  “No problem, Detective,” Todd said.

  “Please, call me John.”

  “John, I’m so sorry about what happened to Officer Riley,” Todd said. “It’s terrible. Just terrible.”

  John supported his head with his right hand, like it weighed a hundred pounds and could tumble to the floor at any time. “It’s quite a blow to us here at the station. We lost a good man. I feel bad for his wife and son. It’s a damn shame.”

  “We need to do whatever we can to catch this guy,” Todd said. “What clues do you have so far?”

  “Besides the notes…not much, Todd,” John said. “We know the first victim bled to death from a blade slicing her jugular. Her right foot was removed, probably after he killed her. The second was apparently strangled to death, but it seems that she was chloroformed before being strangled.”

  John rustled through a few papers, then continued: “No elevated endorphin levels were found when the lab ran the peptide profile, so the amputation of his left foot occurred after he was dead. We found no signs of a struggle with either victim, so we didn’t find any skin from the killer under the victims’ fingernails. Riley’s throat was slashed, just like the first victim, though there was no blood anywhere near where his body was found, so he was killed earlier in the day yesterday and then dumped on his neighbor’s lawn. Most of his right arm was removed, cut a few inches from the shoulder. We didn’t run the peptide on Riley yet, so it’s not certain if he was alive during his amputation.”

  “I’m assuming there was a third note on Riley’s body.”

  The detective moved his hand from his head and found the plastic baggie that contained the third typed note. “Of course. At this point, I would be surprised if there wasn’t a note.” He handed it to Todd.

  Todd read the note aloud: “Now the score is three to zero. What this town needs is a hero. With this hack dead at your door. Alone you’ll go into day four.”

  Todd looked at the detective, then back at the note. In his mind, it sounded like a demented nursery rhyme, and he read it
again in his head, this time placing the proper meter on each word. He continued to stare at the note. “When was the last time you saw Officer Riley?”

  “Around eight o’clock last night. He went home, and I came back to the station. Then I finally got home about quarter after ten.”

  “And when did you find his body?” Todd asked.

  “I heard him die a few minutes before midnight. The killer left the phone on…”

  The two men sat in silence.

  Todd hung his head low. “My God.”

  John nodded solemnly.

  “He’s taunting you, sir,” Todd said.

  “I know.”

  “He’s enjoying the game,” Todd said. “He wants nothing more than to be in control. And right now, he’s in control, and he knows it.”

  “So, in your professional opinion…how do we catch this monster without any evidence?” John asked.

  “The way to catch him is to think from his prospective. You need to get inside his mind. Like I said, he wants to be in control and the notes make it obvious that he seeks attention.”

  “So what are you saying?”

  Todd looked past the detective and saw a large window behind him. He stared at the partly cloudy sky while he took a moment to think. “Well, for starters,” he said, “I would stop publishing his notes. All that’s doing is creating a media frenzy and giving him the attention he wants.”

  The detective furrowed his brows as he looked at the papers on his desk. After several moments of contemplation, he looked at Todd and grinned. “I agree with you, but that would mean we would need to wait until he strikes again and again…”

  “That’s only one thing we need to do,” Todd said. “I have some other ideas I am working on at the moment. The main thing is to keep his notes out of the papers and to make sure the public is aware that the killer tends to strike loners. The main reason I can see him targeting loners, particularly ones who are outdoors, is that it reduces the amount of evidence and eliminates the risk of witnesses so long as he does it in an area with less pedestrians. Around my house, for example, there are few people since it’s the more remote section of North Myrtle Beach.”

  “We are getting word out to the community,” John said. “We have more police officers on patrol than ever before. We even have a lot of volunteers who are serving as neighborhood watch teams.”

  “Good,” Todd said. He looked at the pile of papers on the detective’s desk. “So what do you know about the victims?”

  “Well, the first one, Deborah Miller, is a housewife who was out for a walk along the beach. We spoke with her husband, and she was only out for less than an hour.”

  “I remember her name from the first article,” Todd said. “How old was she?”

  “Forty-two. Has a young son who goes to the same elementary school as my boy.”

  “What about the man who was found the next day?” Todd asked.

  “Joshua Adler. He’s in his late forties.”

  “Does he have any children?”

  “No. He’s single without any children.”

  Todd scratched his chin. “I don’t see any connection between those two victims so far.”

  “Do you think he kills at random?” John asked. “Maybe he waits for the right opportunity. Or is there a certain set of criteria he looks for, like how some killers hunt women because of something that traumatized them in their childhood. I’ve heard of killers whose mothers were promiscuous…”

  “And some had alcoholic fathers,” Todd said. “Others were exposed to pornography at an early age. The three victims may be linked somehow, or maybe they aren’t and they represent something to the killer. Or maybe, like you said, he waits for the right opportunity and strikes at random. If more bodies pile up, we’ll have more to work with, but now, nothing is really sticking out at me.”

  “More bodies,” John said. He hung his head down and sighed. “Great. Any idea why he’s taking body parts?”

  Todd shook his head. The natural light that flooded the office diminished quickly. He looked out the window again, this time to see a cloud blocking the sun. “No idea. All I know is this is one twisted individual. Who knows what to expect next?”

  * * *

  Not more than twenty minutes after their meeting, while driving home, Todd received a call from John.

  The detective was breathing heavily, like he had just run a mile. “We found victim number four, Todd.”

  “Where?” Todd asked.

  “You know where Frederick Street is?”

  “I do.”

  “Take that street east. You can’t miss us. We blocked the road off so you’ll literally run right into our roadblock. Come quick.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Todd pocketed his phone and turned left on the next street he saw. Within ten minutes, he was on Frederick Street and moments later, saw the road block.

  He rushed from his car and saw a few men in the street near several police cruisers. He approached a taller man in uniform who stared at him with curiosity.

  “Excuse me,” the officer said. “This is a crime scene. Unless you own this home, you need to leave immediately.”

  “Where is Detective Markley?” Todd asked.

  “Behind that house,” the officer said, pointing to a two story house that sat back from the sandy road. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Todd Williams. I received a call from him a few minutes ago. He requested my presence on the scene.”

  The officer looked at the shorter man standing next to him. “What do you think, Dean?”

  Dean nodded and his sweat glistened in the sun.

  “Head on back,” the taller officer said.

  Todd turned and looked at the house, with its boarded up windows and overgrown shrubbery. The stucco exterior was worn from years of disrepair, faded from the oppressing sun that abused it daily. He ran along the side of the neglected house and saw John standing with a few other men. On the ground, a body lay behind the men, though Todd could only see the cleanly shaven legs.

  John turned to look at Todd. His face displayed pure dread and his voice stuttered as he spoke. “This is the most…most horrific of all, Todd.”

  Todd walked around the men and saw that, though the head, arms, and legs of the woman were there, her entire torso was missing.

  “Who the hell does something like this?” Todd asked, though no reply came from any of the men.

  Finally after a few moments of silence, John spoke up. “There’s not a lot of blood near the body, Todd. We think he must have killed her somewhere else and moved her body parts here. This one took a lot of time. I think he picked this house since it’s more secluded and he didn’t have to worry about being seen.”

  “Who found the body?”

  “One of the neighbors lost his German Shepherd and found the dog here, sniffing at the body parts,” John said.

  “Lord,” Todd said. “Was there another note?”

  John held up the plastic baggie that contained the latest note. “We found this in her mouth. He certainly has a way with words.”

  Todd stepped closer and tried to keep his eyes from viewing the atrocious scene at his feet. “What does it say?”

  John stuttered as he spoke. “It says ‘Four to nothing and this game is only getting easier for me. Tomorrow will be here before you know it and I know you’re wondering who will be next…looking into the past can tell you the future.’”

  Todd looked at the dismembered corpse. “Do you have an ID of the victim?”

  “The man who found her said she lives in this neighborhood. He said her name is Cindy Keller. Thirty-five years old. A registered nurse. Very involved in the community.”

  “I don’t see anything in common with the others, besides them all being in the same age range. Thirties and forties.”

  “The thing I’m having trouble understanding is why he would go through the trouble of dismembering her and staging her body this way? Why take any parts
at all?”

  “Each part must mean something to him. Must represent something.”

  “Or maybe it’s just part of the game,” John said.

  “Maybe.”

  Todd crouched down and looked at the severed legs. “The bastard takes pride in every detail. Look at how precise these cuts are. This was no sloppy job. He knew what he was doing.” He stood and looked all around him. “Somewhere out there, he’s already hunting tomorrow’s victim. The first victim, the one I found, was killed where she was found. Now, he’s killing them, then moving their bodies to where he wants them to be found.”

  “But why here?” John asked. “Why dump the body here behind this abandoned—”

  “I think you just answered your own question. It’s abandoned. No witnesses to see him when he’s making his drop.”

  Todd walked towards John and looked at the house. Abandoned, he thought. Most serial killers feel alone and abandoned and want to punish society as a whole for wronging them. Perhaps the lack of witnesses has something to do with this location, though the house itself might be just as much a symbol as the body parts he retains.

  Todd turned to John. “I wonder what he meant with that last line…looking into the past can tell you the future…”

  The detective wore a puzzled look on his face. “No idea.”

  “I understand that history often repeats itself,” Todd said, “but maybe he means that everything up to this point is significant to what will follow. That there actually is some sort of pattern.”

  “So you think there’s a master plan after all.”

  “Exactly,” Todd said, looking down at the body parts. He looked up at John again and winced. “I think I’m going to hold off on lunch for a while.”

  * * *

  Angela Littleton arrived at her beachside condo moments before the sun set. She did not notice the van parked in front of the condo next door until she parked her car in the driveway and stepped out to retrieve her groceries from the trunk.

  Maybe someone is finally moving in next door, she thought.

  Her next door neighbors had foreclosed on their mortgage and moved out the previous year. She missed having neighbors. She was the last house on the street and since construction hadn’t begun on condos that would occupy the opposite side of the street, she was all by herself at the end of the cul-de-sac. She also missed her family and partially regretted moving down south. She thought often of selling her condo and moving back north to be closer to her family. In Myrtle Beach, there was nothing for her. She enjoyed the sunshine and the calming sound of the waves, but she was alone. At thirty-one years old, she yearned to start a family of her own, but not here. Not in this town. Especially not with killers on the loose.