Authors: Laura Marie Henion
"Here's my card, my office number, cell phone, and on the back is my home phone number, just in case,” Ken added with a wink, and Eddie rolled his eyes, while Lauren laughed.
Lauren shook their hands, as the chief of police joined them.
"It's a pleasure to be working with you, Detective Phelps. Your reputation and highest regards by your superiors is a breath of fresh air.” The chief moved closer to her, and glanced around before whispering, “I hate to say it, but, in the past, when our department had to assist with the NYPD, the officers sent weren't exactly friendly."
"Sorry to hear that, Chief. I can promise you that as long as your detectives remain professional, I don't see any reason that we can't work together and solve this crime.” Lauren glanced toward Lieutenant Tennellie, raising her eyebrows slightly before returning her gaze to the chief.
"You have a good day and I'll be in touch."
Lauren exited the room and headed toward the parking lot. She felt a little better knowing the chief and the other detective might have been on edge because of past experiences. She hoped that was the lieutenant's problem, but something told her his sour personality had nothing to do with past experiences with the NYPD.
Lauren called the precinct and advised her commanders about working the case together. She wanted the case to go smoothly and by making nice with the local department, she would have better access to their information.
The lieutenant didn't seem so willing to share, and he could look at the case as a competition of who could find the suspect first.
On her way out, she called her dad and asked him to throw some more barbeque chicken on the grill. Twenty minutes from now, she would be enjoying the company of her family.
As Lauren exited the small police department, she was greeted with hellos from some patrol officers entering. “Good Morning, miss.” The officer's tipped their hats and grabbed the door to hold it open for her.
"Thank you.” She smiled, then received two more hello's from people she assumed were civilians. It put a smile on her face to think about the differences between working as a city cop and a local cop.
She didn't care either way, just as long as Detective Kafrey and Lieutenant Tennellie were as determined to solve these homicides and catch the perpetrator as she.
Lauren drove her car up toward the town of River Point. It was a beautiful suburban town filled with many developments and small businesses. As she crossed the small bridge that connected the lower River Point to upper River Point, she could see the well-maintained town park down below. The sight sparked some memories of childhood days spent swinging on the swings, climbing the multi-colored monkey bars, and swimming in the rectangular-shaped pool.
Then she recalled her teenage years, sneaking into the park with friends to enjoy a few beers, feeling totally cool, like part of a gang. She got her first kiss by Billy Fielding, near the old oak tree, across from the baseball field. He had been the star pitcher in the high school finals and the four homeruns he scored guaranteed the win. Everyone was celebrating that night and after a few beers, Billy Fielding finally got the nerve to kiss her.
Lauren laughed just thinking about it. She had a hard time finding anyone willing to date her, and that she was interested in, because of her father and older brother Peter. Don Phelps was not a man to be reckoned with. Never mind he would answer the front door and lead Lauren's date upstairs to the kitchen, where he ‘just happened’ to be cleaning his guns, or worse.
Laughing about her dad's routine was easy now, but back then, she cringed with embarrassment at his whole ‘let the date come meet your dad in the backyard,’ while he explained about the hidden uses of a chainsaw, or how easily he could use the saw to chop up a human body, discard of any evidence, and simply get away with murder, due to his vast experience as a homicide detective. Oh yeah, dates were just lining up outside Lauren's house.
Shaking her head, she absorbed the town scenery nearing the familiar neighborhood.
She assumed that as she got older and matured, dating would come easier, but that was not the case. Lauren knew she was a competitive person, always trying to be number one or feeling she had something to prove. It was a constant feeling and personality trait that even to this date revealed its evil head and made her push herself even farther.
She wasn't complaining about it because she knew determination was what made her achieve her current professional position. It was when there was no need and no room for that competitiveness that it seemed to ruin a potentially promising relationship. She had always been more mature and she knew she expected a lot out of a relationship and in a man.
Maybe someone older would offer more ... she pushed the thoughts of a relationship out of her head. There was no more room on her plate. She didn't even have enough time to visit with family and make plans to hang out with friends. Her parents, and her brother David, were all over her case for not returning calls or missing Sunday dinners. She sighed as she thought about the family and the good times they always had when everyone was together.
Those were the days and she missed not living too close to her family and her childhood friends, but she had decided she needed her own life, her own reputation in law enforcement to establish, and without her father's help. Her dad understood that. He respected her decision to join the NYPD instead of taking a position locally.
Besides the fact she'd always feel the locals would think she hadn't earned the right to be there, that her father pulled some strings while others, who didn't know someone in law enforcement with pull, had to sit back and wait their turn on the list.
No way!
She was her own woman, and she was more than capable of handling the ‘job.'
Lauren smiled as she approached Upper River Point, where the town's cleanup crews were cleaning the streets already from the morning parade. Still, the lawn to the town hall was crowded with people and many visitors still walked the parade route enjoying the warm, sunny day.
It was nearly 5:30 p.m. when Lauren pulled her car onto the crowded side street. The Mardullo house swarmed with people. There were cops, firemen, and military men, some dressed in uniform and others in plain clothes. The smoke from the six large barbecues in the backyard was in plain view from the front sidewalk. When Lauren finally found a spot up the block and began walking toward the party, she smelled the delicious food and heard the loud music.
There was a lot to celebrate today, and even though the current homicides she worked on were laying a toll on her mind and her spirit, she embraced seeing her family and friends. They were celebrating Jimmy's return from Iraq as well as honoring all the brave men and women who had given their lives to secure our freedom.
"Holy shit! Is that the famous NYPD detective in the flesh? How nice of you to honor us with your presence!” Alex, Victoria Mardullo's cousin, yelled from the front lawn. Everyone looked, adding similar amusing comments before embracing her, then practically carried her to the backyard where the rest of the family was.
Lauren laughed, enjoying the upbeat mood and the sanctity of family.
He sat in his small apartment in Creek Valley, practically drooling over the little trinkets from his victims.
He had covered them in red velvet, kept them safe under his bed, and now reminisced about each kill.
"The lovely Tammy, so shy and reserved.” He hummed to the music, as he held the gold ID bracelet in his hand, and brushed the dry, blood-stained panties. He recalled the curves of her body, and the sound of whimpering. Her skin so creamy and white. He remembered her smelling of roses and water. The smile formed on his lips, and the old rock and roll music played in the background.
His apartment was decorated with the fifties’ style theme. He glanced over to the corner of the room, where his eight-foot, classic jukebox played
In the Still of the Night.
The shades that covered the window of his sixth floor apartment stayed closed tight. He wanted to block out the world, the sounds of present day, and enjoy his weekend off.
No deliveries today. He made sure of that this week by getting all his deliveries finished early and ahead of schedule.
The small restaurant supply company he worked for now delivered to restaurants outside of Yonkers and the Bronx. There were three new fifties-style restaurants and bars in the Stone County area. He had checked them out personally, and had his sights on a few prospects.
Loud voices interrupted his thoughts. Voices yelled in the hallway and he tried to ignore them.
It was no use and he banged his fist down on the kitchen table. The trinkets jumped from their spots as he hurriedly but in gentleness repositioned them.
The voices, language foreign to his ears, slowly disappeared down the outside hallway.
He refocused his attention on his treasures and admired his favorite so far. The necklace with the letter ‘S’ designed in all tiny white pearls, his precious queen, who had yet to be outdone.
He couldn't believe the memory had passed its four-year anniversary two weeks ago. Her shoulder-length, golden-blond hair, the clean crisp uniform she wore, and that helpful, gentle smile he was sure had the power to heal so many. He wanted to capture that smile, that innocence and love of mankind and keep it for his own. At the time, he was so nervous, afraid he could be caught any moment, that he rushed the whole thing.
He sought out others since her, in hopes of maintaining his patience despite his needs, so their time together would last longer.
Now deeper, more creative fantasies emerged in his mind. Only someone strong and youthful could withstand the pain, and the process he would so tediously embark on. Minutes and hours were no longer acceptable. He wanted more, he needed more, but the memory of his first kill, he would hold deep inside his heart and mind.
He tried to locate someone to honor her and replace the memory with someone better, but Renee didn't come through as he had hoped. Nor did Tammy really, but he wasn't about to give up.
He liked the rush too much. The thrill of the chase. The act of fulfilling each fantasy, and being able to watch his acts over and over again.
The videos he rented, or bought from some of the surrounding X-rated shops, couldn't compare to the ones he made himself.
The music had to be just right. The clothes had to be perfect, right down to the black and white Hush Puppies shoes, and tiny pompom topped shoelaces.
Again, he smiled as he danced to the music, filled with feelings of success, pride, and perfection.
There was no one better than him. He knew everything about the era, about the clothing, and the styles.
She hammered it into his head as a child. His mother would dress in her long, blue poodle skirt, tie her hair in a ponytail clasped with a sheer blue scarf, then play the old forty-fives over and over again, forcing him to dance until she was practically holding him up.
Then she would drink in between and abuse him.
He hated her so.
He hated how she would act so innocent, so proper with family and friends, then act disgusting when her men callers came. He would get locked in the bedroom, but he still heard the acts through the walls.
She was nothing. Just a slut, a whore, and so were these women.
They were playing a role—pretending to be so innocent and shy, but he knew better. He knew the truth, and forced them to reveal their true identities. They would play his games, sing with him, dance with him, and willingly participate.
The thoughts caused his body to react. He could feel the desire, the need for another victim to fulfill and satisfy every sensation that flowed through his body.
Tonight, he would head up north.
He took one last look at his treasures, then carefully folded the red velvet. Tying the light blue sheer scarf over it, he carried it to his bedroom. He needed to pack a small bag, just a few things to stay at his little hideaway up north.
He dropped the keys to his special place on the floor. His fingers, his body, already shook with anticipation and excitement.
A silly giggle escaped his lips, as he looked in the mirror, wanting to record every moment from commencement to conclusion.
He was handsome and young, in need of a shave, but young women seemed to be attracted to the rough, tough, edgy style of the look.
The weather was much too warm for a leather jacket, and he knew his body was what immediately caught the attention of his victims. He carefully rolled the t-shirt up, causing his already bulging muscles to look more defined but slightly hidden.
The waist of his blue jeans hugged his hips, showing off the indentation below each hipbone, then the perfect, rounded ridges of his muscular belly. He admired himself in the mirror.
He ran his fingers through his black hair that was a little long in the front. He had a special way of letting a few black locks brush over his deep jade green eyes, just so, as he flirted.
His teeth were perfectly white, which he admired with an approving smile.
Tonight was as perfect a time as any. It would take him a good thirty-five minutes to get up north. He could be in the parking lot of the Twist and Shout nightclub and restaurant by 8:00 p.m.
Reminding himself he just needed one last thing, he pulled some money from the drawer and made a quick phone call to his supplier. He needed Liquid X, and he needed it fast.
Planning in his mind to make the short stop on his way, anticipation flowed through his body. Tonight, he would be with victim number four. For a moment, he felt nervous about getting the drugs. He remembered the one time he got busted, and winced. The repercussions would be devastating if he were to get caught tonight. Recalling the narrow escape he had a year back, perspiration moistened his brow. Thanks to a good lawyer, he got off with two days in jail and attending a drug program. Being the optimistic person that he is, he saw a positive in the whole ordeal.