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Authors: LS Sygnet

Tags: #secrets, #deception, #hate crime, #manifesto, #grisly murder, #religious delusions

The Chilling Spree

BOOK: The Chilling Spree
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The Chilling Spree

By LS Sygnet

COPYRIGHT 2012 LS Sygnet, Smashwords
Edition.  All rights reserved.  No part of this book may
be used or reproduced in any manner without permission except in
the case of brief quotations.

This book is a work of fiction.  Names,
characters, places and incidents are fictional or used
fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events, locales or
persons, living or dead, is coincidental.  All rights
reserved.  No part of this publication can be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or paper print,
without written permission from LS Sygnet.

The Eriksson Series by LS Sygnet

Daddy’s Little Killer

Beneath the Cracks

Forgotten Place

The Chilling Spree

…Coming soon, book 5 – Always Watching

 

Title

Copyright

The Eriksson Series by LS Sygnet

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

Chapter 40

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

As stupid as this may sound, it started as a
dare. 

In hindsight, I wonder if things would’ve
gotten as bad as they did if I’d just said no in the beginning. If
I hadn’t been weak and
female
about the whole thing. But no.
I fell into the stupid emotional snare, like I was tempting fate to
prove me wrong, and… well, things happened that shouldn’t have.

The horrors of Pandora’s Box were unleashed
on a city that should’ve always been prepared, braced for their
dire version of reality, and I got sucked in because once again,
I’m as weak as Tony Briscoe when someone throws down the
gauntlet. 

See, I thought I’d go home and do that
social isolation thing, and all would be well.  I’d evade,
avoid, slide out of the limelight and slip away from Darkwater Bay
like the original plan dictated, and forget all about everything
that happened here.  Ah, the dream.  Reality never
measures up.  Not in the end.  Not when a fantasy has
taken root because things got personal, attachments formed. 
Rather than the obvious, the binding ties sneaked up on me in the
form of comfort and friendship.

In the days following Danny Datello’s
arrest, the profound grief I felt because Johnny Orion couldn’t
remember me was soothed somewhat by two friends who refused to let
me hole up licking my wounds.  Never mind that I don’t
celebrate Christmas, or the fact that they started a week of
midnight shifts working robbery-homicide out of Downey Division
that night.

Ned Williams and Devlin Mackenzie were too
stubborn to take no for an answer.  We spent Christmas evening
opening gifts that they had purchased from every convenience store
that wasn’t closed for the holiday.  Shiny foil shrouded rolls
of paper towels, packs of ink pens, a couple of bags of potato
chips, a year’s supply of Twinkies, a keychain that reminded me
that shit happens, and the coldest reminder of all, a box of
condoms.  Lots of that cold ambiance going around this holiday
season, I suppose.

I came pretty close to bursting into tears
at the sight of it, the fact that it reminded me that when I’d seen
Johnny the day before, he looked at me with the utmost of vacant
eyes.  It nearly unleashed something I don’t want people in
Darkwater Bay to know lies under this façade I wear. 

And then Ned confessed.

“I figured that you’re young and hot and if
Orion can’t remember anything, you should be prepared.”

On the verge of my murderous red-black rage,
I gaped at him.  “Excuse me?”

Devlin merely chuckled.  “I told you
that you’re too old for her, Ned.  Besides, what would the
missus have to say about this?” 

Ned grinned.  “I’ve been married three
times.  Can’t blame a guy for taking a shot, can you?”

What little I knew about Ned Williams was
that he was an anomaly among men.  Yes, he had two ex-wives –
both of whom were lunch buddies with his current wife, and there
wasn’t an ounce of bad blood between any of them.  Knowledge,
even a little bit, muted my ire beneath a grin and a shake of the
head.  “Point made, Ned.”

He sobered.  “I hope you mean that,
Helen.  You’re too young, too beautiful, and certainly too
smart to be devastated by something that was beyond anybody’s
control.  Even if he never remembers, it doesn’t mean that you
don’t have a life ahead of you.  Maybe it’s with Johnny, maybe
not.  Now you’re prepared.”

An involuntary and unexpected chuckle parted
my lips.  “Because I am out trolling for dates every night of
the week, right?”

“Only you can change that,” Devlin
said.  “Who knows?”  His shrug added emphasis. 
“Maybe it’s the jolt Johnny needs to snap him back into reality,
you know?  Ned told me that yesterday after we left division
–”

“Never mind that for the moment,” Ned cut
off his partner softly.  “Options open.  Enough
said.”

I waited until Ned excused himself because
wife number three called to see how our morose little Christmas
party was progressing.  Then the grilling began.

“What did he say, Devlin?”

“Who, Ned?”

I nodded.  “What doesn’t he want me to
know?  Is Orion already out there again, picking up his
typical type of girl like I never existed?  Is that what this
push to get me to forget about him all about?”

He grinned.  “Much as I’d love to say
that it is, you couldn’t be farther from the truth.  Ned told
me that after we left division yesterday that Johnny came in with
Briscoe.  We knew that.  Hell, we saw them outside.”

No reminder was necessary.  The vacuous
gaze flashed against the backs of my eyelids every time I
blinked.  “And?” 

Dev leaned forward.  “Well, I guess
Johnny had about a million questions when he came
inside.” 

“Naturally,” I muttered.  “We arrested
the man he wanted to see behind bars since he was a kid.”

“He wasn’t asking about Datello, Helen.”

My eyes lifted.  “No?”  Rigid
rationality clamped down on the tiny spark of hope in my heart.

“He asked about you.  Of course, Tony
was more than happy to oblige and –”

“Shit,” I hissed softly.  “So now Ned
doesn’t want me to realize why I need to stop hoping that Johnny
will remember anything that happened in the past six months,
right?  Briscoe kept his word.  He’s doing everything he
can to make sure that Johnny wants nothing to do with me.”

“Not at all.  He pulled up the files on
the cases you worked since you came to Darkwater Bay.  Told
Johnny that if he wanted to know the truth, he ought to figure it
out on his own.  Ned on the other hand...”

I buried my face in my hands and
groaned.  “What did he do?”

“Told him that if he remembered enough to be
curious about you that he needed to get off his ass and talk to
you.”

“He didn’t.  What did Johnny say?”

Dev shrugged again.  “He just got
really quiet for awhile.  Then he started grilling Ned about
who you left division with.”

I felt my forehead wrinkle.  “I left
with you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You mean he thinks something is going on
between us?”

Dev chuckled.  “You say that with
almost enough disgust to hurt my feelings, Helen.  Am I really
such a troll?”

My cheeks burned, lit up like Rudolph’s
nose, I’m pretty sure.  “I didn’t mean it that way.  Of
course you’re not a troll, it’s just that –”

“Relax,” he let me off the hook without much
torture.  “I get it.  You’re blinded by whatever that
guy’s got that the rest of us mere mortals only dream to
acquire.  Point is, I bet he’ll make up his mind in a hurry
that he doesn’t want to miss his shot to figure out what he felt
before somebody else comes along.”

“And I bet you’re nuts.”

“Is that a professional opinion, Dr.
Eriksson?”

I smirked.  “Maybe it is.”

“Tell you what,” Dev suggested, “let’s give
him a week to wake up and smell the roses before we resort to
drastic measures.”

“Devlin, I don’t want to play games with
him.”

“You wound me again,” one hand slapped over
Devlin’s heart.  “Who says I’m not making a serious bid for
your attention here?” 

“I do,” a tiny grin threatened at the
corners of my mouth. 

“If he is still wallowing in outrage over
what he lost instead of doing something about it by this time next
week, you’ll go out with me.  One date.  What do you
say?”

“Devlin –”

“I dare you to do it.”

“What kind of date?  Are we talking the
trite and boring dinner and a movie proposition?  I always
hated that tired bullshit.”

Devlin laughed hard.  “Do I really
strike you as so unimaginative?  Man, I must be a masochist
after all.  I feel like I’m going down in flames here.”

“What did you have in mind then?  Sky
diving through the ice crystals over Bay County?”

“Music,” he grinned.  “It just so
happens that I have tickets to a concert next week, and nobody to
go with me.  Even if you don’t want to think of it as a real
date, you’d be doing your newest fan a favor by taking pity on me
and coming with me to this thing.”

“A concert,” I echoed.  “Like what kind
of music?”

“If you’ll recall, I spent a fair amount of
time living under this roof over the past week.  I know how
eclectic your CD collection is.  I can only imagine that your
digital archive dwarfs the genre whoring I saw on the physical
discs.”

“You’re avoiding my question.”

“I got these tickets a long time before I
moved to Darkwater Bay, Helen.  I planned to make the trip
regardless of where I was working at the time.”

“Devlin.”

His nervousness was unexpected, and oddly
endearing.  He stared at the hands that hung loosely over his
knees.  “Is your music collection used, or is it just for
show?”

“Don’t make me get the paper out so I can
see what concert has you too embarrassed to tell me –”

“It’s Pan Demon, all right?  Yes, the
in-your-face, fuck-you-society, speed metal band of all time.”

It took great effort to school my
grin.  “I see.  And from my – as you put it – rather
eclectic music collection, you think I might be the single person
you know amenable to attending this concert with you.”

“Don’t play dumb, Helen.  You’ve got
their first two records upstairs in the rec room, on vinyl I might
add.  C’mon.  Just go with me to this thing.  I’ve
been looking forward to it all year.”

“This really surprises me, Devlin.  You
never struck me as the type to go for a band that sings about
murder and mayhem, not to mention the anti-authority
sentiments.  Does Chris Darnell know about this?”

“Stop it,” he chuckled.  “I knew a lot
of guys in the Marines that liked them.  And for the record,
it’s not the words to the songs that do anything for me.”

“Ah, all that primal aggression.”

“They’re a good band.”

I nodded.  “Surprising they’re still
around, let alone alive.  Or is one of those rebooted
situations with an obscure drummer from back in the dark ages that
revived the name after all the real talent died off?”

“They’re all still alive, without the first
drummer,” Devlin said.  “In fact, that’s the one spot that
changed multiple times over the years.  Ironic, huh?”

I rolled my eyes.  “I don’t know,
Devlin.  I think I’m too old for that sort of thing now. 
To be honest, I was never really a fan of their music.  I
bought those records because Marie hated them, thought it was the
devil’s music.  How could I go wrong with a band with
demon
in the name?  Drove her nuts, but Dad put his
foot down and said I could listen to whatever I wanted to.”

BOOK: The Chilling Spree
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