Lakewood: The Copycat Killer

Another victim

Malia

To keep things quiet between us, Luka didn't stay the night. I couldn't sleep, so I prepared a cup of warm tea, sat down at my table, opened my laptop, and conducted a search. While I scrolled through links, my stomach growled. Shit, I forgot to eat.

I slapped together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and sat down at the table. While I ate, I searched Lakewood. Why Lakewood? It's not as if anyone comes here to commit a crime. Most people vacation here.

I bit into my sandwich as I glided my finger over the mousepad. Most websites had specific information about Lakewood, like population, area footage, landmarks, and a brief history. I clicked on different links while scanning the data, then landed a news article about a local artist from the 60s who resided in Lakewood. I scrolled through the paper until something caught my eye.

Lewis Crank used human blood to demonstrate the texture and authenticity of his artwork, displaying lifelike pieces that resembled the human body. When asked why? Lewis discussed the conceptual human artwork.

I logged on to the Lakewood Police site and entered my credentials, then searched Lewis Crank. I got a hit and printed out the information.

A few minutes later, someone knocked on my door. I grabbed my gun, crept to the front door, and checked through the peephole to find Abby looking back at me. I rolled my eyes, lowered my sidearm, and opened the door. Abby pushed past me as I closed the door.

Abby paced and held her hands in the air. "Okay, it's none of my business."

I set my gun down and placed my hands on the back of my hips.

Abby stopped and looked at me. "Why didn't you tell me that you got back together with Luka?"

"What?"

"Simon and I were driving home, passed your house on our way home, and saw Luka's car in the driveway."

"Yeah, so?"

"So, it was late." Abby gave me a knowing look.

"I don't want to discuss Luka."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't."

"Malia!"

"Abby!"

"I've waited years for you and Luka to run into each other's arms and reunite. You can't dash my hopes and dreams."

"Why are you here?"

"Don't change the subject."

"Abby."

"Okay, I came across some info on Jasmine." Abby dug into her bag, pulled out a file, handed it to me.

I took it, flipped through the pages, and stopped when I noticed the last name. I glanced at Abby. "Jasmine's last name was Crank?"

"Yeah, why?"

I walked over to the table, grabbed a piece of paper, and handed it to Abby.

She took it, read through the information, and looked at me. "Who's Lewis Crank?"

"Lewis Crank was a local artist in the 60s who used human blood in his artwork to add depth to it. He called it conceptual human artwork."

"That's disturbing."

"And that's why I'm paying Lewis Crank a visit tomorrow."

"Do you think he has a connection to the current situation?"

"I'm not sure, but I want to know why the copycat killer is emulating the Lakewood Serial Killer using Lewis Crank's artwork."

Abby gave me a knowing expression.