A naive investigative reporter joins two detectives in the search for a notorious serial rapist and killer...all while the truth is too close to home...
"Would you like to come in?" she asked, smiling shyly. On the one hand, David was pleased she ha...
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I park my Mazda in the neighbor’s driveway because the cop cars are all over Jean’s. I feel exhausted, this week has been endless, and not very fruitful quite honestly. All I want is for this to be over so we can all live in peace, and stop looking over our shoulders. The neighborhood is a bust of activity, and I gather the police are also beginning to get frustrated with this killer. I walk around the house, looking for Xavier and Mark to get the latest, and also to personally interview the neighbors. Someone must have heard or seen something, and that someone could be among the women and men standing outside their homes, speaking in hushed voices as they let the idea that Creekville’s serial killer has been here sink in. From where I am standing, I realize someone could drive into and out of Jean’s street unnoticed. The highway is close enough, and the only windows overlooking the joining roads are the houses’ bedroom windows. That’s convenient. I think as I bend to escape the overgrown branches. “Excuse me…” a deep and alluring male voice calls and as I turn to see who it is, my jaw drops to the ground. What is it with this townand these men? I ask myself as visible wonder runs on my face. *Five Minutes Ago…* He is about to flee the crime scene when he sees that blue Mazda swerve into the neighborhood. David sits in his car thinking the unthinkable; he must introduce himself to her. My gorgeous woman…David thinks as he drives out of the parking lot, around the roundabout, and back into the street. He pulls up and parks close to the houses, only close enough to reach her and not seem like he has any clue what is happening. “Excuse me…” he says from behind May. May’s POV “Hi!” I exclaim, almost breathlessly and I mentally face palm. Get a hold of yourself woman! My subconscious is screaming at me. “I noticed there are half a dozen police vehicles here and my curiosity…" he trails of. "What’s happening?” he asks “Oh…uuhm…a woman who lived here was killed. Haven’t you seen the news?” I ask as I regain my composure. “I have been away on business, never really have the time.” He responds, barely taking his eyes off me. Am I seeing things? I wonder. “Killed?” he asks, and quite frankly I understand him. This town has been short of those for ages. “In the most brutal manner. She is the third, you know…in case you’d want to know.” I supply more information like the reporter I am, and mentally face palm again. “You mean there is a serial killer in Creekville?!” he asks further, with an unreadable expression on his face. “It would appear so.” I respond. Walk away! my subconscious screams at me again. I look around us uncomfortably as my anxieties rise high. My social cues are terrible. “Sorry what?” he asks, making me realize I said that out loud. “I have to go.” I counter, waving my notebook and recorder in the air. I continue; “I have reports to write.” “You are a reporter?” he asks. I am almost sure I am getting the weirdest vibe from this man. He is knee-deep in my business for a man I just met. “I am.” I respond. “May, nice to meet you.” I add, extending my arm. “David, the pleasure is all mine.” He says as he takes my arm into his, possessively. You shouldhave walked away…I reprimand myself as smiles materializes on both our faces.
