Lakewood: The Copycat Killer

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Lakewood Serial Killer

The driver drove along interstate highway 133. "We should be approaching a gas station soon."

My lips curled upward. "Excellent."

"With the gas stations having distance between them, it surprises me that you didn't stop at a quarter of a tank."

"I don't get out much."

The driver glanced at me. "What about a job?"

"I work from home."

"So, you don't get our much?"

"Not really. I found the seclusion helps with the mind."

The driver looked at me as I smiled. He shrugged and drove until we came upon a gas station. He pulled up to it and parked his car. "Are you sure you want to wait? It'll be hours before the place opens."

My eyes narrowed as I continued to smile. "I'm positive." I got out of the car and strides to the driver's side.

The driver moved his window down, and I leaned to his level. "Good luck."

Before the driver reacted, I grabbed his head, twisted it, and heard a snap. I opened the door, dragged his body out, carried it to the ice bin, and shoved him inside. I moved bags of ice to cover the body and closed the door.

I hated small talk. It annoyed me and kept me from my purpose—the only perk to solitaire confinement.

I returned to the car, climbed in, and headed towards Lakewood. But first, I'll need a change of wardrobe. I can't look unpresentable for Detective Weston.

*******
Charlie

Joe and I arrived at Lakewood Security and got out of the car.

"Why did Gabe send us?" Joe asked me.

"He doesn't want Luka and Malia to rattle anyone."

"Sounds logical." Joe rolled his eyes.

I chuckled, and we entered the business and approached the counter.

"Can I help you?" A woman asked us.

"We're looking for the owner," I answered.

"Is there a reason?"

Joe and I pointed to our badges hooked to our belts.

The woman glanced at our badges. "I'll be right back." She walked towards the back and disappeared into a room.

I scanned the area, checking out the employees and customers. A few minutes later, the woman returned with a man.

"Can I help you?" The man said.

I removed a folded sheet of paper from my back pocket and handed it to the man. The man unfolded the paper and glanced at the list of names.

"We were wondering about the name Fred Crank," I said.

The man creased his forehead. "I dismissed Fred because customers complained about him."

"What were the complaints?" Joe asked.

"The complaints ranged from unprofessional behavior to faulty security systems. I sent one of my best guys to replace the systems."

"How many faulty systems did Fred install?" I asked.

"Six, and that's when I sent Jason to replace them."

"Is Jason working?"

"He's in the back working on codes."