Read Chapter One of The Guest in the Attic…

CHAPTER ONE
Jack
As Jack stood in the front office of the Everly Sheriff’s Department, the chatter going around about the most recent murder had his attention.
He was curious to hear it after the deafening silence that had followed Cierra Folk’s murder, as if everyone had been afraid to talk about anything directly related to the Calder family.
“I heard that the Women’s League has decided to move their afternoon business meeting to the morning for the safety of all members,” said Officer Corbin, who was standing behind her desk with one hand on her hip. She was a sturdy woman with a soft edge. “Everyone is talking as if the two crimes could be related and that we have some psychotic killer in Everly. Do you think that’s possible?”
“No way they’re related,” Officer Donohue said before Jack could even open his mouth to speak. “It’s clear that Cierra’s murder has something to do with that dillhole she’s been slumming with. He was probably after her money, and when she tried to ditch him, he went nuts. As for the other girl, I think she had a run-in with one of those tweakers. With the way that maniac left her at the scene? They were probably hallucinating on something. I think it’s probably the same one who burned down those buildings. Not that we’ll ever know who did that.” He turned his eyes to Jack, who didn’t miss the remark or its intention.
“It’s not proven that they are related, but I’m working on it,” said Jack. “And while I can understand speculation from the town, I don’t appreciate speculation coming from this department. I think you all should focus on keeping the public safe while trying to put them at ease.”
He didn’t like Donohue’s attitude and didn’t want his negativity spreading through the department to the other officers, who, so far, seemed to get along with Jack reasonably.
But Donohue didn’t know when to shut up. “We’re honest with our locals around here, detective. I’m not sure how they did it back where you came from.”
Jack could tell that the implication of Donohue’s tone was that Jack needed to promptly return to the place from which he came. And that did nothing for Jack’s mood, especially when he had faced resistance at every turn since the moment he came to town.
Jack thought of the power certain people had in that town. “I suggest you concentrate on your end of things and let me handle mine.” He didn’t want to argue with the man but didn’t appreciate anyone telling him how to do his job.
“Does that include letting guilty men go free? The last time I checked, our cells were still empty. I’ll go grab that little son of a bitch anytime you want. Just say the word.” Donohue flashed a cocky grin toward the ladies in the room. It was obvious from his posture he thought himself the biggest cock in the henhouse.
“That’s not necessary,” said Jack, knowing that was the last thing he needed. He still had to talk to Trevor again, but that wasn’t the way he was going to go about it. Dax had told him a few things about Trevor that he needed to verify, and he wanted to approach it the right way.
Corbin chimed in. “I know a lot of the women are freaked out over that display. Everyone is talking about it. What kind of crazy person does something like that? And they’re out there, running around free? It’s shaking people up. We’re not used to that around here. This kind of thing is unheard of.”
Donohue nodded. “It’s probably one of those satanic cults. I’ve heard how they like to mock religion. It was obviously some weird ritual.”
“We don’t know that either,” said Jack, feeling uneasy about that conclusion. “And there wasn’t anything ritualistic found with the woman. Let’s not turn this into a witch hunt just yet.”
“It was a full moon the night before. I’ve read about things like that on the internet. Some of those cultists worship the moon. She may have been a sacrifice for all we know.” Donohue was serious, but Corbin gave him a sideward look.
“Angel wings or whatever, we can’t make that assumption based on that alone.”
Celia Sanguine, the front desk receptionist, spun around in her chair. Her face was twisted in a displeased grimace, and she shook her head with skepticism. “They don’t look like angel wings to me. They look more like the butterflies my little girl scribbles.” She waved her hand at Donohue as if she didn’t buy anything he had to say. “I just can’t see it being some satanic ritual.”
“You weren’t there,” said Donohue.
“I saw photos,” she said, sharpening her tone. Jack could tell that she didn’t seem to like Donohue very much. Nor did she agree with his assessment. “I just think that you’re reaching, is all. Let Jack do his job.”
Donohue gave her a pointed look. “I think we should all do our jobs,” he said. “Maybe you should stay off social media.”
As Donohue strutted out of the office, Celia glanced at Jack. “I only go to the local pages on my breaks,” she clarified.
Jack gave her a reassuring smile and checked his watch. It was time to meet up with Dr. Thompson.
***
After driving out to Thompson’s Mortuary, Jack realized that he wasn’t the only one with an appointment.
Most of the front room was full of mourners, women crying into tissues, and men sipping coffee and offering comfort.
At the front entry was a framed photo of the deceased, a middle-aged man wearing a blue suit with a flower on his lapel looking rosy-cheeked with the cheesiest grin. The photo was taken some years ago, judging from the man’s wardrobe, but it was apparently the way the family wanted to remember him.
Jack shook a few hands and passed through the crowd, only earning a few strange looks. One of the attendants came over to see him. She was around forty with a demure look and her hair in a loose bun.
“Are you Detective Isaac?” she whispered.
“Yeah, I’m sorry I wasn’t aware there was a service this morning.” He felt out of place and did his best to be respectful.
“It’s just a viewing,” she said, dismissing the issue. “Come on. I’ll show you to the back.” She started down the hall, and Jack followed, feeling no less the intruder.
When he was shown to the door, Jack went inside and found Dr. Thompson standing over the man from the photograph, doing his best to blush the corpse’s pale cheeks.
The man was laid out in the casket, dressed in his Sunday best.
Jack tried not to be distracted that the man was being buried in the same suit as his photo. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how busy you would be this morning.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m just doing a bit of a touch-up on Mr. Pete here. His widow wanted him to look more like he did in life.”
About that time, Dr. Thompson walked over to the door and gave it a tap that prompted a young man who had his hair slicked back to come into the room.
“He’s ready to go. There’s not much more I can do for him, so tell her sending him back in isn’t an option.” He talked as if he was ready for the crowd to leave, and when the young man was done wheeling Mr. Pete out of the room, Dr. Thompson turned around and let out a sigh. “Let’s hope that satisfies her.”
“If it’s not a good time, I can come back later.” Jack not only wanted to get out of the man’s hair, but he didn’t want to impose on the family.
“Nonsense. I’m eager to go over something with you.” He walked over to the cold storage and opened the door to one of the compartments.
“Did you find something?”
“Yeah.” He pulled out the tray and uncovered the body of their latest victim. “Yeah, I did. One thing I noticed right away was how clean the body was. If you can recall, Ms. Folk was in a similar condition.”
“Yeah. She was unusually clean for the amount of blood that had to have been at the scene. It’s too uncommon to think that’s a coincidence.”
Dr. Thompson nodded. “I did a test and found that both of the victims were washed with a bleach solution. Not only did he clean them up, but he sterilized them.”
Jack let it sink in. “That’s not a common practice with any victim I’ve ever seen. Most do the killing and leave them where they lie. Even in cases of moving the body, I’ve never seen anything like this. Usually, they are dumped or hidden. Cierra was left right at the water’s edge for someone to find, and this woman was posed like the killer was trying to make some kind of statement. This is unique, for sure.”
“Agreed,” said Thompson. “Crime scenes are usually some of the filthiest places. Both of these crimes seem to lack that.”
“Even though the scenes were vastly different, that’s definitely something that sticks out. And it tells us that these cases are most likely related.”
“I have to agree with that. It’s too unlikely that two different individuals would take the time to clean them up like this.”
Jack tried to put all the pieces together. “Maybe it’s progression, and the killer is finding his way. Maybe he’s settling into his routine and finding his voice.”
“You think he’s trying to say something?” asked Thompson.
“In a roundabout way. Sometimes killers speak to their motives with their actions whether they think we’ll hear them or not. And with this last scene, with things being staged, I have to ask myself why someone would do such a thing.”
“It’s possible. Or he’s just insane.” He let go of a heavy breath. “I did find something else that made me take pause.”
“You have my full attention,” said Jack, who couldn’t wait to hear more.
“The wound was bandaged at some point in time with cotton gauze. I compared it under the microscope with some I had here, and the fibers match. They are the same material. You’ll get a more detailed analysis from the lab, but it’s another thing that we see similar with both cases.”
“So, it’s your best conclusion that this is one killer?”
“I’d have to agree with that.” He pulled the sheet up over her face.
Jack was surprised to have someone agree with him. “And you’re sure you don’t mind siding with me?”
“I’m not choosing sides, detective. I’m doing my job. And I am a man of science. I can’t ignore the evidence.”
“Do you have a problem keeping this between us for the time being?”
“I see no problem with that,” said Thompson as he pushed the body back into the compartment. “As long as you keep me in the loop as to your actions, I’ll follow your lead. Besides, I’m not sure if Everly is ready for this.”
“Which is why I want to find something more concrete before I let this out. Not to mention that doing so could jeopardize the case this early on. I think we keep it close to the vest until we’re forced otherwise. The two were both left in the Crane Lake area. I’ll start there, as well as following up with some statements.” He needed to check on Dax’s comments about Trevor.
“People are already starting to talk. I know some are suspicious that there is a madman on the loose. It’s going to cause a panic if it gets out. Especially if you breathe a word about a serial killer.”
“Which is why I’d like to see if I can link these young ladies in some other way. If I can do that, I might just find who killed them before he does it again.” Jack could only hope that the man messed up somehow. While the scene seemed carefully staged, the body carefully prepared, no one was perfect all the time.
“Do you think he will?” asked Thompson.
Jack sighed. “Let’s hope not. This is one time I’d rather be wrong.”