I haven't written many spooky stores, but here is one. Enjoy!

The Storm King Lady by Monte R. Anderson

The road over Storm King Mountain can be as beautiful as it is treacherous. Sharp curves flanked by cliffs offer a gorgeous overview of the Hudson River but a challenge for the best of drivers during a storm. Tonight was one of those storms and I struggled to see through the fog and rain to keep the car from skidding on the road. Without warning, a woman appeared in the center of the road. I reacted too fast, and the car spun in a circle as the wheels locked on black ice. I came to a stop on the shoulder of the road, shaken but not injured. I got out and ran over to the woman.
“Are you okay? Were you in an accident?” I asked. No answers.
“Can I take you to the police?” A nod, “Yes.”
I could see that she was soaking wet and cold, so I put my jacket on her shoulders. She was wearing an old green sweater, blue jeans and tennis shoes. I dropped her off at the nearest police station and drove away, thinking I was finished doing my good deed.
The next morning the police called. They found my jacket on their front steps with my name inside. I had forgotten about it. I now had to explain everything and describe the woman. The officer said they never saw the woman but that the description fits a woman that was reported missing last year. He explained she disappeared while driving over Storm King in a storm one year ago from last night. She was wearing a green sweater, blue jeans and tennis shoes. The officer said to meet him at the spot where I picked up her up ASAP. I drove up Storm King and met the police. A lieutenant introduced himself and explained that the woman I saw maybe a homeless person.
I pointed down the road to the spot where my car skidded off the road.
“We searched this whole area for weeks last year,” said the lieutenant. “We never found a car. We figured she must have run away. That is, until you showed up last night.”
We started walking along the road to the spot where I found the woman. I noticed a section of the retaining walk along the road had been repaired.
“Lieutenant, did you guys search over the side of the cliff down by the river?” I asked.
“Cars usually hit the wall at an angle and either bounce back or hang up on the wall. We searched by helicopter but not on the ground. It is very steep and rough terrain.”
“Well,” I said, “If you came up empty handed before, maybe now is time to search on the ground.”
The lieutenant directed a couple of his men to put on harnesses and to repel over the wall on ropes. When the two were half way down one of them shouted, “Hey, there’s a car down here!”
A couple hours later, a crane lifted the car back onto the highway. As soon as the car was back on the road, we looked inside.
“It’s her all right!” said the lieutenant. “The license plates checked out, and she has ID in her purse. She died instantly.”
“How do you explain the woman from last night?” I asked.
“Or all the other nights that someone reported seeing a woman up here,” added the lieutenant. “I have a feeling that there won’t be any more sightings of the Storm King Lady. Sometimes it is best not to dwell on these things. It can’t be explained so I won’t even try. Unless you have a logical explanation, just forget about your involvement in this whole episode. You did not bring anyone to the station. Understood?
I shook his hand and walked back to my car, but I will not ever forget what happened that night or the Storm King Lady.
THE END

Weeks of obsessive tending and gentle turning ensured a blue ribbon for his biggest pumpkin next weekend. His chest puffed with impending pride as he fantasized about the envious stares of the other town folk, including that attractive, stuck-up woman next door, who always looked through him, not at him.
An easterly wind was starting as he watched the sky darken. The wind felt cool against his skin compared to the moist warm weather that soaked him in sweat as he hoed around his pumpkin earlier. As bright, painted leaves rained on his crop, he heard an infant's cry and turned his head toward the top of the hill. Under the old maple, his stuck-up neighbor was shielding a bundle from the wind, fumbling with her blouse. Probably trying to breast-feed the baby, he thought. He felt a little sorry for her; a single mother with an infant. He tried to be a good neighbor, but her stuck up attitude kept him at a distance. Maybe she did not trust men any more. He paid her no mind. He was single too and had his own problems.
He wondered what she was doing at the top of the hill, but then recalled seeing her walking the narrow path to her girlfriend’s house about half a mile beyond his own house. His hat was torn from his head as the wind grew stronger. He looked at the distant clouds moving at a great speed toward him. The horizon was a solid wall of clouds that gave a greenish tint to the sky. He had seen enough to recognize the signs–tornado!
Looking back at the maple tree, he could see the mother had knelt down by the base to shelter her baby. Realizing that a tornado could tear the old tree apart in seconds, he shouted to warn her but his voice was drowned out in the strong wind. He ran to the top of the hill as fast as he could. When he reached her he shouted, “You can’t stay here. Too dangerous!” Half pulling, half jerking, he got her up with the baby.
“Where?” she yelled. The noise was as loud as the 7:20 freight train that passed through town every night without stopping.
He looked back at his house; too far! He looked at her house; even farther! He yelled back at her, “Come with me.” He cradled the baby in one arm, and then led her by the other. If they could make to his pumpkin patch, and lie down behind his prize pumpkin, they just might have enough protection. Placing the baby as close to the pumpkin as possible, he had the mother shield it with her body as he covered her body with his.
The wind grew stronger and louder then it grew quiet again. Peering over the top of the pumpkin, he saw the tornado rise up into the clouds and pass overhead without doing any damage. They had been spared along with their houses. He looked over at his crop fields to see how much damage was done to the corn, and saw a wall of hail the size of golf balls cutting through the corn as clean as a sickle, destroying everything in its path.
The hail would reach them in seconds. He realized that they would be injured in their exposed position. Without a word he pulled the woman to her feet and placed the baby in her arms. He was frantic. Picking up his hoe, he swung at his prize pumpkin. After two or three tries, the shell split open. He dropped the hoe, and used his hands to scoop out the insides. The woman realized what he was doing, and began helping. When the pumpkin was half-empty she placed the baby inside the pumpkin. He helped her get inside as much as possible with the baby, covering them with the pumpkin rinds. Her legs were exposed, so he laid down on them, and spread his hands over her thighs to cover as much of her as possible.
Hail began to pelt them just as he was finishing. At first, a few struck him, but they hurt like hell. Then they came down by the hundreds. He tried not to yell as they hit him across his back, legs, and head. He knew he was going to be black and blue in the morning. After a couple of minutes, it was over. Mother and baby crawled out of the pumpkin covered in juice and seeds. He hurt in so many places that he did not know which spots to rub first.
She looked at the ice from the hail in his hair and clothes, and brushed it out. He began to pick off pumpkin seeds from the baby’s face and from her hair. She smiled and they both began to laugh. She wiped her face with her sleeve, and then his face, kissing his cheek after she wiped it. “You saved us,” she said. “Thank you.”
They both looked down at the shattered pumpkin.
“Was that your pumpkin that you were going to enter into the fair?”
“Yeah! Well, I can grow another one next year. But it could have been worst. We could have been killed. A prize pumpkin is no big loss.”
“Well, you are very brave. It was quick thinking on your part. You are my hero. Are you hurt?”
“I don’t know. Are hero’s supposed to feel like a punching bag?”
“I guess so. Sometimes. As you said, it could have been worst. I will tell you what; I need to take the baby home, and clean her up. Why don’t you save some of this pumpkin, and come over to the house later? I will make some pumpkin pies. I may have a salve for those bruises too.”
“Okay,” he answered. This may be the start of a new good neighbor policy, he thought.
THE END

Dear friends, I posted the last of my work in progress, The Register Cliff Rapist. I made changes and corrections based on the feedback that I received, and for that, I thank you. I am now in the process of preparing to publish my crime novel. If you read every chapter, you may not want to purchase it. If you enjoyed my novel, please let your friends and contacts know. I have tentatively selected December 8, 2015 as the publishing date. On that date, I will set the price at $3.99. However, for those who want to preorder, I will set the price at $2.99. As soon as I am ready to accept preorders, I will make an announcement with all the details.  Stay tuned. -Monte

If you haven't read the prelude or the previous chapters you might want to scroll down and read them. This is the final chapter to my novel. I hope you have enjoyed reading it. I will publish it as a e-book very soon. Please let me know what you think.
SYNOPSIS: Jason Franco is an aspiring novelist stuck in a dead-end job working for a newspaper in a small town where nothing exciting happens until someone rapes and murders a young woman only eighteen years old. All evidence points to the woman's boyfriend who confesses to the crime. Jason is assigned to write a follow-up story for the paper and soon suspects that the local police are covering up for one of their own. Jason enlists the help from a high school classmate who works at the state crime and the two soon fall in love. Jason and his girlfriend, Tina, follow the leads, and Jason finds himself a target for the rapist turned murderer. An attempt on Jason's life puts him in the hospital as the alleged rapist commits suicide. An unexpected turn of events put Jason back in the cross hairs of a different killer.
 
The Big Commitment
Two Weeks Later
 
On Friday, Jason called Tina just before she left for work. “Hey. Can I take you to dinner tonight? My treat this time.”
“Yeah, sure. You staying the weekend?”
“Of course. I'll be there around six. Is that okay?”
“Sure. See you then. Bye, cowboy.”
When Tina got back to her apartment, Jason was in the kitchen talking to Dyanna. Jason started to stand up but Tina motioned for him to stay seated. He had his walking cast on his leg but still needed crutches. “I have reservations for seven,” said Jason. “Wear something nice.”
“Where are we going?”
“It's a surprise. So much has happened these last two weeks. I can't wait to tell you.”
“How did you get here? You can't drive like this can you?”
“No. Sy drove me. He has business in Cheyenne, but he'll be here later to see Dyanna. We're spending the night.”
Jason and Tina drove up to the Morris House Bistro and Tina gave the car keys to the valet. Jason struggled with his crutches but managed to get inside without help from Tina.
“Wow,” said Tina. “This place is expensive. Are we ready for this?”
“Yeah. I owe you so much for all the meals you treated me. This is partial payback.”
“Jason, you're scaring me. You're not proposing are you? You're making me nervous?”
Jason laughed. “It takes a lot to scare you.”
The host took Jason and Tina to a nice table with a reserved sign on it. The walls were painted red. A waiter rushed over to take their drink order. The interior was much more luxurious compared to the exterior.
Once they were settled, Tina said, “Okay, start talking, buster.”
“Well, as you know, I received reward money. I couldn't accept it. So many people, like yourself, helped catch the Register Cliff Rapist. Most wouldn't or couldn't accept any reward. So I decided to start a fund and put all the money into it. I convinced Mrs. Littlefield and Mrs. McAdams to co-chair the fund. It's called the Littlefield/McAdams Foundation.”
“And what is the purpose of this fund? I thought Paulo already started a memorial fund for Angie.”
“Yes, yes, but Mrs. Littlefield agreed to add that money to this fund. The Littlefield/Angelina Foundation's mission is to raise money to allow all crime labs to complete testing all backlogged rape kits.”
“That's a bunch of rape kits – maybe thousands.”
“I know. We'll start with Wyoming and proceed from there. If we get enough money, we'll help all the crime labs in the country.”
Tina sat back wide eyed. “I am impressed. That would be great. How much do you have now?”
Jason laughed. “Truthfully, I don't know. The money keeps rolling in daily.”
“That explains the new fund. Now tell me how you can afford this restaurant or is the fund paying for my high maintenance?”
The waiter arrived with their drinks. Jason ordered fried oysters for an appetizer.
Tina leaned forward and whispered, “Are you hoping to get lucky, cowboy?”
Jason laughed as he picked up his menu.
Tina picked up her menu as well. “Explain how you can affords this so I know what to order. Do I go whole hog or just a chicken leg?”
Jason laughed. “Go whole hog if you can finish it. Tonight is special.”
“What happened? Did you win the lottery?”
“Sort of. Last week I signed up with a literary agent. We have two offers for a non-fiction book about the Register Cliff Rapist. My agent is working on a two book deal, the second being my novel.”
“Oh, Jason. I'm so happy for you. A journalist and a novelist.”
“Soon, soon. No money from that deal yet, but when we final decide on a publisher, there will be an advance.”
Tina  could tell that Jason had more to share. “And?”
“And, I have been doing interviews for national TV news and getting paid nicely for them.”
“Wow. A celebrity too.”
“Yeah, I guess. My agent said he can book talks for me that will bring in money until my book is published.”
The waiter returned to take their order. Tina ordered the Creole grilled Redfish and Jason ordered the Morris House Bistro Prime Beef.
When the waiter left, Tina picked up her wine glass. “Here's a toast to America's latest celebrity.” They clinked glasses. After the toast, Jason was grinning.
Tina put down her glass. “What else? I know you're dying to tell me more.”
Jason nodded his head from side to side. “I've decided to finish my degree.”
“What? Where? That's great.”
“What would you say if I attended school in Cheyenne? We could live together. Maybe look for an apartment tomorrow.”
“Oh, cowboy. You sure know how to make a cowgirl happy. When do you start?”
“I've already enrolled at the U of Wyoming. I start next semester.”
“You could live at my place.”
“I was hoping for an apartment closer to the campus and without a Dyanna attached.”
Tina laugh. “I heard that.” Tina lifted her glass again and saluted Jason.
THE END
 
# # # #

If you haven't read the prelude or the previous chapters you might want to scroll down and read them. It’s a little long, so I’ll post it in two parts. Here is part 2. Please let me know what you think.
SYNOPSIS: Jason Franco is an aspiring novelist stuck in a dead-end job working for a newspaper in a small town where nothing exciting happens until someone rapes and murders a young woman only eighteen years old. All evidence points to the woman's boyfriend who confesses to the crime. Jason is assigned to write a follow-up story for the paper and soon suspects that the local police are covering up for one of their own. Jason enlists the help from a high school classmate who works at the state crime and the two soon fall in love. Jason and his girlfriend, Tina, follow the leads, and Jason finds himself a target for the rapist turned murderer. An attempt on Jason's life puts him in the hospital as the alleged rapist commits suicide. An unexpected turn of events put Jason back in the cross hairs of a different killer.

Recovery Unit, OrthoColorado Orthopedic Hospital
Thursday, 6, 2015
 
Part 2 Cont.
“So you're not under arrest or anything?” asked Jason.
“Nope. I gave the FBI my statement already. At first the FBI didn't like the fact that I used Art's service weapon to kill Naomi. Art backed me. I'm free to leave.”
“Damn, Sean. How'd this happen to me. I just wanted to write a story.” Jason shook his head.
“You're a hero, man.”
“I didn't want to be a hero. I never asked to be one.”
“That's how it goes with heroes.” Sean stood up.
“Are you leaving me?”
“No. I can't. I'm under strict orders from Tina not to let you out of my sight until she arrives. She's packing a gun by the way. So do as she says. I do.”
Jason laughed. After a little chit-chat, Jason brought up something that was bothering him since he regain consciousness. “Sean, you shot Naomi with a single shot in the head. Is that right?”
“Yeah. Lucky shot.”
“I don't think so. You have killed people before, haven't you?”
Sean bowed his head. After a moment he raised his head and looked Jason in the eyes. “You know already that I was in Nam. I was with the 101st Airborne Division in the north part of South Vietnam at a place called Fire Base Ripcord. Ever heard of it?”
Jason shook his head.
“Well, you can Google it. People wrote books about it. It was bad. VC sappers got inside the wire. We were fighting hand to hand and close quarters combat. Yeah, I shot a few VC with my 45. I don't like to talk about it. I lost a few friends that night.”
An hour later Agent Jane returned. “Jason should be lucid enough now. I know he doesn't remember much, but I need his statement.”
Sean stood up. “Okay Jason, I leave you in the capable hands of FBI Agent Wickham. She'll keep you safe. I'll be back.” Sean left the room.
Agent Jane sat down in the chair vacated by Sean. “What a day, huh? I'll bet you have more questions than I do.”
Jason just nodded his head.
Jane took Jason's statement, such that it was. “Okay, that's all I need for now. You ask your questions.”
Jason thought for a moment. Just tell me the big picture. What was going on?”
Jane smiled. “Naomi Marini was a psychopath. She was a serial rapist who raped a dozen or so women. Jeri Cruse was also a psychopath. He liked to beat up women. He wanted to knock them out with one punch. The two of them met on the TPD and became partners.”
Jason nodded in agreement. “That much I guessed, but why did they kill Paulo and try to kill me?”
“I'm not sure, but I have a theory based on what we know so far. I don't believe they planned to kill Angelina. Marini wanted to rape her like the others, but something happened. Either she came to and saw their faces or she recognized Cruse before he knocked her out.”
“So they raped her and then drug her into the kitchen, found a knife and killed her. Who actually killed her?”
“We may never know for sure. No prints were found on the murder weapon,” answered Jane.
“Then they framed Paulo.”
“Again, I don't think that was planned. After they killed Angelina, they found her cellphone and saw the pictures of Paulo. They knew they would bring him in for questioning. After officer Boyd took Paulo and Mrs. McAdams to the station, Naomi planted the evidence incriminating Paulo.”
“That makes sense, but why kill Paulo?”
“We found indications that Cruse wanted to stop. He wanted to commit suicide. They decided to stage the suicide to make Naomi look like a hero. That would make her a hero and not a suspect. Cruse would claim he was the rapist and acted alone.”
“But that didn't happen,” said Jason
“Negative. Again, something happened–it didn't go as planned. I guess Naomi didn't show up in time to be the hero. That's why they decided to try again by killing you.”
“I saw on the video Marini shot Cruse. Was that the plan to make her a hero?”
“Affirmative. Think about it. All Cruse had to do was toss that road flare onto your car, but he didn't. You were just a means to an end.”
“But Cruse screwed up and said 'we'.”
“Affirmative. He implicated Marini. Now she wanted revenge on you.”
“A female serial rapist–that's rare, isn't it?”
“Affirmative, but it happens. The clues were there, we just didn't pay attention. Everyone. Up and down the line, was looking for a male perp. Maybe that's how they managed to remain undetected so long. If you don't have any more questions, I'll let you rest. I heard your girlfriend, Tina, is on the way. I met her. Seems really nice and worried about you.”
Jason smiled. “I have no more questions. Would you find Mr. Tyler and officer Boyd? I'd like to talk with them now.”
A few minutes after Jane left, Sean and Art arrived and pulled up chairs. “How you doing?” asked Art.
“I've been better. How about you?”
“Truthfully, I'm a mess,” answered Art. “but I'll survive.”
“I can't thank you and Sean enough for saving my life – twice.”
Art shrugged his shoulders. “I was doing my job. Sean is the real hero... and you. You exposed a serial rapist and a murder.”
“That's what I wanted to talk to you about,” said Jason. “For a while, we thought it was you.”
“Yeah, I mean, who knew?”
“Well, we... Sean and I, need to tell you we saw your videos from Montana. We know how you were abused and made to perform. I thought you should know.”
Oh, God.” Art sat still for a couple of minutes. “It was bound to come out sooner or later. I was messed up. I became addicted to sex. When Naomi brought me to Torrington, I started to see a psychiatrist in Cheyenne. She helped me. When I joined the Army, I relapsed. Once I got out, I started seeing the psychiatrist again. I was making good progress.”
“You should see her ASAP,” said Sean.
“I already called her.”
“If you want,” said Sean. “we'll continue to keep your secret. No one needs to know.”
“I'd appreciate that–at least for the time being.”
“We also know that Naomi killed your parents,” said Sean.
“Okay. That goes along with my abuse. Is that why my sister became a rapist?”
“Art, Naomi was a psychopath long before the Montana incident. Killing her mother was just the beginning. It had nothing to do with you. She probably planned to kill her as soon as she located her. It's not your fault.”
“I know. I feel bad though. I know Naomi raped all those women and killed Angelina, but she was a good sister to me.”
“Maybe you should go home now,” suggested Sean. “I could ride along and we could talk. I'm a good listener.”
“That sounds great, but I can't. I'm the NOK for Naomi so I have to ID her body. Then I have to make arrangements to ship her back to Torrington. She always said she wanted to be buried next to her father.”
# # # #

If you haven't read the prelude or the previous chapters you might want to scroll down and read them. It’s a little long, so I’ll post it in two parts. Please let me know what you think.
SYNOPSIS: Jason Franco is an aspiring novelist stuck in a dead-end job working for a newspaper in a small town where nothing exciting happens until someone rapes and murders a young woman only eighteen years old. All evidence points to the woman's boyfriend who confesses to the crime. Jason is assigned to write a follow-up story for the paper and soon suspects that the local police are covering up for one of their own. Jason enlists the help from a high school classmate who works at the state crime and the two soon fall in love. Jason and his girlfriend, Tina, follow the leads, and Jason finds himself a target for the rapist turned murderer. An attempt on Jason's life puts him in the hospital as the alleged rapist commits suicide. An unexpected turn of events put Jason back in the cross hairs of a different killer.

Recovery Unit, OrthoColorado Orthopedic Hospital
Thursday, 6, 2015
 
Jason opened his eyes. He couldn't see out of his left eye so he reached up to touch it. The patch was still in place. A blurry figure stood by his bed on his right side. Jason lashed out wildly trying to strike the figure.
“Easy, Tiger. It's okay. You're safe now,” said a familiar voice.
Jason recognized Sean's voice. He focused on his face.
“Hey,” said Sean. “How do you feel?”
Jason sensed a person was standing on his left – his blind side. As he turned his head too fast – pain split across his forehead. “Ow! Ow! Ow!” He grabbed his head with both hands.
“Take it slow,” said the doctor on Jason's left. “You're having a Roipnol hangover.”
“What?” asked Jason.
The doctor sat on a stool that was next to a computer. “You were drugged with Roipnol. It gives you a terrific headache. It also affects your memory.  You'll be okay in about one hour. I'll check back.” The doctor made an entry on his computer and left.
Jason turned his head slowly toward Sean. “What happened?”
Sean laughed. “Wow! What's the last thing that you remember?”
Jason searched his memory for a moment. “I vaguely remember that Naomi came to visit me.”  He tried to recall what happened next. “I can't remember what we talked about... just bits and pieces.”
Sean smiled. “Tina identified the DNA on those pubic hairs. They belonged to Naomi. We put out an APB to arrest her. She led the FBI on a merry chase and ended up here trying to kill you.”
At that moment FBI Agent Jane stuck her head in the door. “The doc says you're awake. Can I come in?”
“Sure,” said Jason.
“I was about to tell him what happened,” said Sean. “As expected, he doesn't remember much. Perhaps you should start and I can explain what happened in his room.”
“Sure,” said Jane. She pulled a chair next to Jason's bed and sat down. She explain everything that the FBI did up to the point where Sean and Art ran up the stairs. Sean took it from there and explain the rest.
When Jane was finished, Jason asked, “Why did she come here if she knew the FBI had an APB on her?”
“She probably didn't know,” said Jane. She didn't know that the crime lab could do the analysis on the DNA so fast. Normally, it takes days. The crime lab recently bought a RapidHIT 200. DNA machine. It produces a DNA profile in ninety minutes. As soon as we realize it was Marini, we put out the APB.
“But she gave you the slip?” asked Jason.
Yes, she was clever. At first, we thought she would head for Canada. That was the plan that she and Cruse originally made. But she headed south toward Mexico. She knew that we could track her credit card use so she used that to leave a false trail.”
“What do you mean?” asked Jason.
“She drove south on the interstate pass Denver and Colorado Springs. Then she used her credit card near the state line. We know now that she doubled back and spent the night in a hotel in Colorado Springs.”
“Why didn't you arrest her there?” Asked Sean.
“We didn't know. She paid cash. We found the receipt in her car.”
“So how did you find her?” asked Jason.
“We got a lucky break. An off duty patrolman spotted her car while he was going to work. He had the APB. He followed her as far as the interstate before he lost her. But, he said that she got onto the north bound lane. That was the first clue we got that she was coming to kill you. We got here as fast as we could. A few minutes too late, apparently.”
“Wow,” said Jason. “That twice that you saved my life, Sean. What happened to Art? Why didn't he shoot?”
“I wouldn't let him,” answered Sean. “I stopped him and took his pistol. When Naomi lit that match, I killed her.”
“You thought that Art wouldn't shoot his sister?” asked Jason.
“No. I thought that he would.”
Both Jason and Jane were stunned. They didn't know what to say. Sean saw the look on their faces.
“How can a person live with himself after killing his sister?”
“Or her mother,” added Jason.
“I didn't know until today that Officers Boyd and Marini were related,” said Jane. “What's this about killing her mother?”
“Long story. I'll explain later,” answered Sean.
“So how is Art taking it?” asked Jason.
“Not so good,” answered Jane. “He'll need therapy.”
“Oh boy,” said Jason. “That might be an understatement.”
“At any rate,” continued Jane. “I'm not going to question you until you're feeling better; maybe in an hour or two. I'll get a statement from you then. You need to rest for now.” She got up and pushed the chair back against the wall. “I've got a crime scene down the hall to tend to. I'll be back.” She nodded toward Sean and exited the room.
# # # #

If you haven't read the prelude or the previous chapters you might want to scroll down and read them. Please let me know what you think.
SYNOPSIS: Jason Franco is an aspiring novelist stuck in a dead-end job working for a newspaper in a small town where nothing exciting happens until someone rapes and murders a young woman only eighteen years old. All evidence points to the woman's boyfriend who confesses to the crime. Jason is assigned to write a follow-up story for the paper and soon suspects that the local police are covering up for one of their own. Jason enlists the help from a high school classmate who works at the state crime and the two soon fall in love. Jason and his girlfriend, Tina, follow the leads, and Jason finds himself a target for the rapist turned murderer. An attempt on Jason's life puts him in the hospital as the alleged rapist commits suicide. An unexpected turn of events put Jason back in the cross hairs of a different killer.
Press Conference at OrthoColorado Hospital
Art drove down to Denver to attend the press conference at OrthoColorado Hospital. He was early, so he found the hospital cafeteria to for a bite of lunch. As he entered, Sean saw him and waved. Art sat down at Sean’s table.
“Here for the press conference?” asked Sean.
“Yeah, but I also wanted to say hi to Jason. How’s he doing?”
“He’ll be okay. The broken leg is the worst part.”
“Yeah, too bad,” said Art. “Hey, the FBI found those missing pubic hairs. They sent them to the lab yesterday.”
“Holy Toledo! That should wrap things up nicely. Where were they?”
“They found them in Jeri’s desk,” answered Art. “Can you believe it?”
“Nothing about this case surprises me.” Sean’s cellphone rang. Sean looked at the caller ID. “Hold on. It’s Tina. Hello, this is Sean.”
“Sean, Tina. The FBI brought in the pubic hairs yesterday, and we finished testing them last night. You’re not going to believe this.”
“Yeah, Art is with me now. He told me that he found them in Jeri’s desk. So, is it Jeri’s DNA?”
“No. It’s Marini’s DNA. She’s the rapist.”
“What! Are you sure? It that even possible?”
“Dyanna and I tested them three times. There’s no doubt. The FBI put out an APB for her arrest. They think she's heading for Canada. That' where Cruse was going. He tried to make the FBI believe he was heading for Mexico. Are you with Jason?”
“No. I’ll go tell him.” Sean hung up.
“Did I hear right?” asked Art. “The DNA turned out to Naomi’s?”
“Yeah. Did you also hear the FBI thinks she's going to Canada?”
Art was stunned. “Sean, she's not going to Canada. She's here. She drove down yesterday. She was going to meet me here. Is there a guard on Jason?”
“No!” Sean jumped up.
“Shit!” yelled Art as he jumped up. “What room?”
“913,” answered Sean as the two ran to find the elevators. When they found them, they waited at a bank of elevators that seemed to take forever.
“This is too slow,” said a frustrated Art. “I'm taking the stairs.”
“I can't keep up with you. Go ahead. I'll be there as soon as I can.”
Art sprinted up the stairs as fast as he could, two steps at a time. He reached the ninth floor out of breath and ran down the hall looking for room 913. When he found it, he drew his weapon and cautiously opened the door.
“Freeze!” Art stood in the doorway aiming his service revolver at Naomi. “Don’t move or I'll shoot you, Naomi. Believe me, I will shoot you.”
Sean arrived out of breath and stood behind Art. “We know you and Jeri raped and killed Littlefield. We have the lost evidence. It's over, Naomi.”
“It’s not over until I say it’s over,” yelled Naomi. “You won’t kill your sister, dear brother. You always were a ball-less wonder.
Sean stepped up next to Art and placed his hand on top of Art's 38 with his thumb between the hammer and the chamber. “Don't do it, Art. Not you. Let me have the gun.”
Art let Sean take the gun from his shaking hands. Tears began to run down his cheeks.
“Ha,” laughed Naomi. “So are you going to shoot me, Mr. Tyler? You don't have the balls either.”  She struck the match.
Sean fired once. His shot struck Naomi dead center of her forehead. The back of her skull blew off, striking the window and shattering the glass. She was knocked backwards against the wall and slid down onto the floor with the match still in her hand. Sean rushed to Jason and checked for a pulse. He found none. He placed Art's gun on the floor, knelt down and raised his arms. He wanted to keep the rushing agents from shooting him. Agent Jane was the first to enter the room. She had her pistol out and pointed at Sean.
Art rushed over to Naomi to extinguish the match still in Naomi's hand. “He's okay,” he shouted at agent Jane. “He shot her. She was trying to kill Jason.”
“Clear!” yelled Jane as she holstered her weapon. “We need medics in here now!” She rushed over to Art. He was sitting on the floor rocking and crying with Naomi's body in his arms. Her blood was all over his chest. She placed her hand on his shoulder. “Are you injured, Officer Boyd?”
Art shook his head. Nurses, doctors, and police rushed into the room.
“Okay, we need to process this crime scene. I need you to put her down and step back.”
Art looked up at Jane. He tried to form words but it took a few tries. “She was my sister.”
“What?”
“My sister. She was my sister.”
“He's telling you that Naomi is, was, his half-sister,” interjected Sean. The FBI had him in handcuffs.
“Damn,” said Jane. “I didn't know.” She knelt down by Art and placed her hand on his shoulder. “You take your time. When you're ready, please sit over there.” She pointed to a chair on the opposite side of the room.
Art sat on the floor holding Naomi's body for another five minutes. He started to stand up. Jane and another agent helped him up and guided him to the chair. By this time, the FBI had taken the cuffs off Sean and began to get his statement.
Art moved over to Sean. “Thanks for helping me. I couldn't shoot my sister. If you hadn't acted, she would have killed Jason.”
Sean nodded. “And I'm sorry I ever suspected you.”
Agent Jane put her hand on Art's shoulder. “You ready to give me your statement?”
Art looked up at Jane. “Yeah, I guess so. Let's get it over with.”
Jane nodded her head for Art to follow her, and the two left Sean alone with Jason.
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If you haven't read the prelude or the previous chapters you might want to scroll down and read them. Please let me know what you think.
SYNOPSIS: Jason Franco is an aspiring novelist stuck in a dead-end job working for a newspaper in a small town where nothing exciting happens until someone rapes and murders a young woman only eighteen years old. All evidence points to the woman's boyfriend who confesses to the crime. Jason is assigned to write a follow-up story for the paper and soon suspects that the local police are covering up for one of their own. Jason enlists the help from a high school classmate who works at the state crime and the two soon fall in love. Jason and his girlfriend, Tina, follow the leads, and Jason finds himself a target for the rapist turned murderer. An attempt on Jason's life puts him in the hospital as the alleged rapist commits suicide. An unexpected turn of events put Jason back in the cross hairs of a different killer.
Press Conference in Denver, Colorado
Thursday, August 6, 2015
The next day, two hours prior to the press conference Jason had a visitor. Naomi Marini stuck her head in the door.
“Knock, knock. Mind if I come in?”
Jason looked up. “Sure, come on in. I’ve to go to a press conference in a couple of hours.” A laptop sat on the table. Jason had been talking to Zac on Skype. He left it on, intending to continue when Naomi left. He put it on mute. He pushed the over-the-bed table off to one side.
Zac had been recording his conversation with Jason as a continuation of his interview. He could hear Naomi and Jason talking so he continued to record.
Naomi glanced around and then came into the room, quietly closing the door behind her. “I know. That’s why I’m early. I wanted to talk to you before the conference.”
“I didn't recognize you. I never saw you in civilian clothes.”
“I’m on admin leave. It’s standard protocol when an officer shoots a suspect.”
I guess I owe you and Officer Boyd a thank you for saving my life.’
Naomi waved her hand. “You're the real hero. Mr. Tyler pulled you from the burning car at the accident site.”
“Naomi, I saw the video. I know what you did. That took guts.”
Naomi pulled up a chair and sat down. “The TPD, owes you an apology. The actions of Chief Cruse don’t represent the rest of the department. I’m sincerely sorry.”
“I know that it’s not your fault. He was a psychopath.”
“Thanks to you and the Star-Gazette he’s no longer a danger.”
“On the video, you shot and killed him. It was a mercy killing. He was burning to death.”
“That’s not why I shot him. I was trying to stop him from setting your car on fire while you were still inside. I thought if I stood in front of him, he would stop. I realize now that he couldn’t see or hear me. He was moving downhill because he knew your car was in front of him. Even while dying, he wanted to kill you. I shot him to stop him.”
“Thank God that you did. I owe you my life.”
“That’s what I’m dealing with now. Jeri was very close to me. He was a mentor to me and most of the department. I thought he was also a friend. All these years we never realized.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
“Over the last couple days, all of us are thinking if there were any clues that he was a psychopath. There may have been subtle signs, but we all deferred to his experience and judgment.”
“Has it been determined if he was a serial rapist?” asked Jason.
“Yeah. We have his confession to killing Angelina on your video. His DNA matched the DNA from three of the rape cases. We also found all the panties he took as trophies in his house. He raped all the women whose names are on Register Cliff.”
“Good. I thought so. I just didn’t suspect him. I thought it was officer Boyd.”
“I know you uncovered my relationship to Art; that he’s my half-brother.”
“That was by accident.”
Naomi smiled. “I know. You also learned what happened in Montana. How I shot and killed Art’s parents.”
“Yes.”
Naomi continued. “I don’t know if you realized that his mother was also my mother.”
“Yes, I know that too. That explains why you became Art’s guardian.”
“For various reasons, my relationship to her was kept secret. I want to talk to you about Art. He was abused sexually, physically and emotionally by his parents. Every way that you can abuse a child, they did and they videotaped it. Both parents raped him.”
Jason was stunned. “I didn’t know the details.”
“Art has been under the care of a psychiatrist in Cheyenne ever since. I go with him usually. At first it was once a week. Now it’s once every three months. Art was addicted to sex. His parents never taught him how to treat a woman. He has made great progress. He made mistakes in the past, but he’s doing much better now. The events of the last few weeks have been a setback for him. He’s afraid that people will find out about his past and start looking at his old videos. They’re still out there.”
“So you would like me to keep your secret?” asked Jason.
“Yes. Someday Art will come out about his past, but he isn’t ready yet. I don't know if he'll ever be ready.”
Jason frowned. “But several people know now.”
“I'll talked to Mr. Tyler, Mary and Zac when I get back. I know we can’t keep this a secret forever, but right now Art isn’t ready. The very idea that he was a suspect has sent him into a state of depression.”
Jason smiled. “I’ve no problem with keeping your secret. It had nothing to do with the Angelina murder.”
“Thank you.”
Naomi bent over to hug Jason and as she did, she injected his neck with a hypodermic needle.
Jason tried to sit up in his bed but with his leg in traction, he couldn't sit up. “WTF!” What are you doing? What was that?”
“Just Roipnol, you know, the date rape drug called 'roofie'.”
“You killed Angelina! You and Cruse.”
“Yeah. Jeri and I have been a team for several years. He beats them up and I rape them. Jeri just liked to watch me rape them. We were a great team. Life was good until you came along and spoiled it.”
“You won't get away with it.”
Naomi laughed. “We’ll see. Jeri and I already planned our escape. We wanted to leave a week ago but Jeri got it into his he to kill you. I’ll just go it alone now.”
Jason started slipping in and out of consciousness. Naomi found his oxygen tube, put it on him, and turned on the oxygen. ”You’d be surprised how many people burn to death in hospitals. Pure oxygen and cigarettes don’t mix.” She pulled a packet of cigarettes out of her purse and placed several on Jason and on the bed. Naomi squirted some lighter fluid she retrieved from her purse on some tissues and placed them on Jason's face. Once she was satisfied, she pulled out a box of matches and fished out one match.
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