Running in Circles

  Running In Circles

  Laurèn Lee

  Copyright © 2017 by Laurèn Lee

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction, and any similarity to other persons alive or dead is purely coincidental.

  ISBN- 10: 1983443018

  ISBN-13: 978-1983443015

  ASIN: B078TTSFSK

  Created with Vellum

  “Behavior reflects personality. The best indicator of future violence is past violence. To understand the "artist," you must study his "art." The crime must be evaluated in its totality. There is no substitute for experience, and if you want to understand the criminal mind, you must go directly to the source and learn to decipher what he tells you. And, above all: Why + How = Who.”

  ― John Douglas, Mindhunter: Inside the FBI's Elite Serial Crime Unit

  Contents

  PART I

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  PART II

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Laurèn Lee

  About the Author

  PART I

  One

  “Sheriff?”

  “Yeah, Ricky?”

  “You’re gonna wanna take this call,” Ricky Jensen, the wiry new sheriff’s lieutenant, warned as he lifted up the glasses which had sagged on the bridge of his nose. Ricky started a few weeks ago and had already proven to be a good, hard-working officer.

  Earl Davis grumbled and took the phone. “Sheriff Davis here. How can I help you?”

  A woman on the other end screamed and sobbed loud enough for Earl to pull the phone away from his ear and cringe.

  “Ma’am? Are you okay?”

  “She’s dead!” she cried hysterically.

  “Ma’am? Who’s dead? You need to try and breathe, okay? I can’t help you if I can’t understand what you’re sayin’.”

  “My sister, Jackie! She’s been murdered!” the woman moaned.

  “What’s your name?” Earl asked quickly as he reached for his favorite pen and a pad of paper.

  “Janice. My name is Janice. I can’t believe this is happening. Oh, Lord!” Janice continued to wail as though she herself had been stabbed in the chest.

  “What’s the address, Janice? We’re on our way.”

  “357 Pullman Way. Please hurry!”

  Earl hung up the phone and grabbed his tan sheriff’s jacket, fully equipped with a shiny embroidered star across his breast. He ran his hands through his sandy blond hair, which had been speckled with gray for a few years now. Soon, it’d be all gray. His well-maintained beard matched the color on his head, also more than halfway gray.

  The sheriff stood well over six feet tall and still had the body mass of a former weightlifter even though he rarely exercised beyond what the job demanded.

  “Ricky, you’re riding with me. I’ll have the rest of the boys follow us to the addy. You ready?”

  “Yes, sir!” Ricky also grabbed his jacket and followed the sheriff to his patrol car parked out front of the station.

  Earl tried as best he could to ignore the pain in his hip as he hobbled to his vehicle.

  “Sir? You okay?” Ricky asked as he buckled himself into the passenger seat.

  “Yeah. I’m all right. Growing pains. When you’re my age, you’ll understand,” Earl lamented.

  Even though Earl hadn’t quite reached the ripe age of fifty yet, the stress from the job certainly took its toll over the years. Law enforcement sure had its way of breaking down one’s mind, body and spirit after time.

  Earl picked up his radio and called for backup, then directed his dedicated team of forensic scientists to head to the scene as soon as possible. If there was indeed a murder on their hands, they’d want to preserve the evidence before any tampering could take place. Although the station didn’t have a large staff, the Stone City government funded a forensics program to try and bring new jobs to the area. Earl had been lucky to be involved in the hiring process of the team, and while they were young, they flaunted excellent credentials.

  “We’re about ten minutes out. See you there,” Earl confirmed.

  Droplets of sweat trickled down Earl’s temple. His sheriff’s hat combined with the abnormal fall heat warmed him up to an uncomfortable level.

  “You ever seen a murder, son?” Earl asked Ricky.

  “No, sir.” Ricky trembled slightly.

  “Well, don’t touch nothing. And, prepare yourself. This Janice sounds pretty broken up and rightfully so. We’ll need to get her statement as soon as possible, but keep in mind trying to be sensitive and all that bullshit,” Earl cautioned.

  “How many murders have you worked, sir?”

  Earl scrunched his forehead and used his fingers to try and recall all the cases he’d seen during his twenty-five plus years on the force.

  “Well, if this turns out to be an actual murder case, I’d say it’ll be about my twentieth or so.”

  “Damn,” Ricky said. “You think maybe it’s not a murder, though?”

  “You never know these days,” Earl said. “Could be a suicide.”

  Ricky nodded.

  “Still, I’m lucky,” Earl began. “I have some friends in other districts and counties who handle that many murders in a year.”

  “Closer to Chicago?”

  “You betcha. Hell of a crime rate closer to the city. We’re lucky to live on the outskirts. You don’t forget it neither.”

  Earl and Ricky parked outside the house, and both could hear and see Janice whimpering on the porch. Her buttoned-up white blouse was doused with blood. One could safely assume she held her sister or tried to resuscitate her. However, a smart officer never ruled out anyone until the evidence had been thoroughly examined.

  “Ready?” Earl asked as he stepped out of his patrol car and limped toward the front porch.

  Ricky nodded and followed his boss as they approached Janice, the primary witness in the alleged murder. What a way to start a Monday.

  Two

  “Janice? I’m Sheriff Davis,” Earl said with cautious sympathy.

  Janice continued to weep into her hands placed over her face as she rocked back and forth in a white wicker chair. “This can’t be real. This can’t be happening,” she chanted sorrowful
ly.

  “Ma’am, we need to go inside, okay?”

  Janice merely nodded and continued to whimper. Earl had no idea what to expect inside the house, however, if the sister’s reaction was any indication of what was to come, he wasn’t all too excited to see it.

  “Member. Don’t touch anything, Ricky.”

  “Yes, sir,” he replied.

  Earl and Ricky stepped gingerly over the threshold and into the house. It was apparent a single woman lived here; there were dozens of throw pillows and afghans covering the furniture along with magazines on the end table such as Women’s Digest and Healthy Living. There were no pictures on the walls of any children or a spouse. On the table near the couch stood two full glasses of wine. Earl reckoned neither drink had been touched as he bent down and noticed each glass was clean and wore no mouth prints. She hosted a guest here last night. Could she have brought home a gentleman caller? Did he do this to her?

  The distinct scent of iron permeated the air. It only took a few seconds before the men noticed the body. Ricky gagged, and Earl stood motionless.

  A woman with dark, shiny hair lay sprawled naked across the hardwood floor. Earl didn’t need to check for a pulse because he knew there’d be no way she’d have one in this state. He stepped carefully and inched closer to the victim, who had taken quite a beating. Janice’s sister lay in a pool of her blood while her legs rested at improper angles, almost like a doll a child had thrown carelessly across the room.

  “Sir?” Ricky asked.

  “It’s okay, son. Just stay by the door. Make sure no one comes in yet.”

  Earl understood the terror looming within his newly hired lieutenant. He wouldn’t blame him for his weak stomach. Hell, Earl had a hard time with the scene, and he’d seen much worse.

  The woman’s clothes were tossed aside a few feet from her body. However, it seemed as though her bra and panties could have been taken by the perp as they weren’t in the same pile with the other garments. Earl studied the woman carefully and tried to see if he could detect any foreign pieces of hair or evidence plain enough for his eye to see.

  Her cheeks were badly bruised, and blood had seeped out of her nose and ears. If the woman was lucky, she would’ve been knocked out after the first blow.

  “Bastard,” Earl mumbled as he continued to study the body.

  “What is it, sir?” Ricky asked carefully.

  “Her eyes are gone,” Earl said in disgust.

  “What?” Ricky gasped.

  “Come here. If you can handle it,” Earl added.

  Ricky looked around and hoped Earl had been talking to someone else, but succumbed to the request and stepped toward the body. Although he had a few years of law enforcement experience under his belt, he’d never seen a dead body before. This was all new to him.

  “Oh, my God!”

  Earl bent down to examine the victim’s face and pointed toward her empty sockets. “Cut out clean as a whistle.”

  “Why would someone do such a thing?” Ricky asked, aghast.

  “Maybe he didn’t want her to see him for what he truly is: a monster,” Earl offered.

  Ricky shuddered and walked back to his post at the front door. “Sir, I think the forensics team is here.”

  “All right. Let ‘em in.”

  A group of four professionals walked into the house fully-equipped with suitcases filled with instruments, baggies and various pieces of advanced technology alien to Earl.

  “Damn,” one of the men said as he put goggles on his face.

  “Don’t see this every day,” another noticed.

  “No. We don’t,” Earl agreed. “Keep me updated with your findings. I’m going to bring the sister in for questioning.”

  The forensics team nodded and began to inspect the scene.

  Ricky followed Earl back onto the porch. “What kind of person could do such a thing? Do you think they planned it?”

  Earl turned back to Ricky and whispered, “No, I don’t think it was planned. If the perp planned on killing this woman ahead of time, he wouldn’t have left her body out in the open.”

  Earl spun back around and went over to Janice who still hadn’t ceased sobbing into her hands.

  “Janice? We’re going to have to bring you into the station now, okay? We want to talk to you about your sister.”

  “Jackie,” she moaned. The wrinkles under her eyes grew even deeper with every sob.

  “Yes, Jackie. We want to talk to you about Jackie.”

  Janice stood up, and Earl put his arm around her to steady her balance.

  “Are you going to catch the sonofabitch?”

  “I give you my word,” Earl said.

  Three

  “Kit! It’s time for dinner, sweetie!”

  The boy pranced into the kitchen with his worn teddy bear under his arms. The bear’s button eyes had loosened, and they hung carelessly from the bear’s face.

  “Hi, Ma-ma-mama,” the boy stuttered.

  “Did you have a good day at school?” Kit’s mother asked as she pulled a roast out of the oven.

  “We co-co-colored,” Kit managed.

  “That’s wonderful, dear,” Meghan praised as she brushed a piece of long, roasted chestnut hair out of her face. Meg’s brunette hair fell to her waist, but she often wore it pulled back into a tight bun.“Did you bring Mama home a picture?”

  Kit’s face drooped, and a tear fell down his cheek. He shook his head.

  “Why not, Kit? You know I love your pictures.”

  “A ba-ba-boy ripped it u-uh-up.”

  A cross look swept across Kit’s mother’s face. “That’s no good. I will talk to your teacher tomorrow,” she warned.

  Kit hugged his bear tightly as his stomach grumbled.

  “Jim! Dinner’s ready!” Meghan called out to her husband.

  “I ain’t hungry!”

  Meghan sighed heavily. “Come eat before it gets cold!” she called out.

  Jim groaned from the living room, but came to the kitchen as requested. He ruffled Kit’s hair as he clumsily sat down at the table. He had a glass of whiskey in his hand, and it slopped over his place setting when he set it down.

  Jim stood very tall and had ash-blond hair. He used to be quite handsome until the drinks flew more frequently after he left the office. The booze had irreversibly aged him.

  “Honestly, Jim. It’s not even dark yet,” Meghan said with narrowed eyes.

  “Had a rough day at work. Give me a fuckin’ break, woman,” Jim slurred.

  Meghan ignored Jim’s cursing and served him dinner: a chicken roast with a side of Brussels sprouts and carrots.

  “What is this shit?” Jim questioned.

  “Excuse me?” Meghan asked sternly. “This is dinner. This is what I slaved over all day while you were at work at your comfy desk.”

  Kit’s stomach dropped, and anxiety plagued him as it had done every night at dinner for as long as he could remember. He squeezed his bear tightly again and closed his eyes even tighter.

  Jim stood and rocked the table with his beer belly in the process. “I work all damn day to provide for this family, you bitch!”

  “Well, I work hard, too. I cook and clean and take care of Kit!” Meghan rubbed her pregnant belly as her cheeks reddened to the likes of a crisp Empire apple.

  “I’d love to trade places with you!” Jim roared.

  “Can we please just eat before it gets cold?” Meghan pleaded.

  “Fuck this dinner and fuck you!” Jim grabbed his dinner plate, which hadn’t been touched yet, and threw it across the room. The plate smashed against the pale yellow cupboards and the perfectly tender roast littered the floor.

  As his parents squabbled, more dishes flew across the room. Kit slid off his chair and hid under the kitchen table. He rocked back and forth clutching his bear. He covered his ears and tried to quiet the shouting above him. Neither parent noticed he’d slipped out of view.

  Sometimes, he wished he lived with his grandparents, Jim
’s mother and father. They were both so sweet to Kit and treated him like a prince. However, Jim’s anger and alcoholism terrified his parents too. Except they had a choice when it came to spending time with him; Meghan and Kit did not. Meg wasn’t close with her parents, and they lived too far away to see, anyhow.

  “I’m going to kill you, ya wretched hag!” Jim lunged toward Meghan with his hands outstretched. Kit peeked out of the corner of his eye to see what was happening and looked just in time to see his father choking his mother. Her eyes bulged, and her cheeks turned a soft shade of blue.

  Tears streamed down Kit’s face as he watched his mother pass out and slide to the floor, unconscious and helpless.

  Four

  “Janice, is there anything else I can get for you?” Earl asked as he handed his witness a warm cup of Earl Grey tea.

  She shook her head and held onto her mug, which rattled in her shaky grasp.

  “I need to know a little more about your sister, okay? It might help us find who did this to her.” Earl sat across from Janice in an interrogation room. He’d wanted a less formal location for the interview; however, the station was small and hadn’t been able to receive funding to remodel some of the unused rooms. “Do you think you can help me?”