RED UMBRELLA: FIRST KILL(PT 2) A MYSTERY SHORT STORY TO KEEP YOU ON EDGE
On returning to the scene, my vehicle came to an abrupt halt drawing the attention of all present. “Lydia,” my partner Ramsey hastened to my side. “You cannot be here.”
“But I am a detective,” I protested attempting to brush past him, yet his grasp remained firm.
“You are too connected to this case,” he sighed. “Go home and rest, I’ll contact you later.”
“I insist on staying”, I replied, wrenching myself free and running towards the scene.
“Wait!”, Ramsey pursued me, his eyes beset with regret but I knew that as long as I betrayed no visible emotion, they would not relieve me of the case.
“A brutal murder has taken place,” my partner revealed, displaying my late husband’s lifeless arm. “The serial killer not only took his time in ending your husband’s life but also claimed the lives of his new wife and child.”
I stepped inside the house surrounded by a coterie of forensic experts. A portion of my being felt a sense of relief that we were finally rid of him, yet the sheer volume of evidence left behind was daunting.
“Detective Lydia Benson,” one of the officers greeted me with a somber countenance. “Be rest assured that there is an abundance of fingerprints. This killer regrettably is an amateur.”
“They must be brought to justice,” I declared.
“Indeed ma’am,” she responded with a hint of a smile. “I’ll let you know of the results by evening.”
“Thank you so much Grace”, Ramsey tapped her shoulder in appraisal then turned to me.
My countenance still showed no emotion for it would be obvious that I feel a secret joy at his demise.
“You are aware that you are a suspect in this case?” he drew me to a secluded corner.
“I am not! Ramsey,” I whispered in return. “I have an alibi – my daughter. We were at home from last night until this day.”
“I believe you,” he heaved, scratching his skull. “But just in case, refrain from tracking the killer before they target you and Sarah.”
“I won’t “, my eyes wavered. “And besides, I am capable of protecting myself. I always have.”
“I am well aware,” Ramsey threw in a giggle, escorting me to my car, however a sense of unease settled upon me.
There was no sign of the baby boy’s lifeless form though certain indications suggested the baby had been stripped and strangled.
“Where is the baby’s body?” I inquired of my partner. “I didn’t see him in the house.”
“Well,” Ramsey sighed, “the baby’s remains have not been discovered. It is surmised that he may be alive and held captive but fear not Lydia, we have devised a plan to apprehend the culprit from this neighborhood.”
“What plan?” I asked, opening the door to my jeep.
“Nevermind,” he responded, bestowing upon me a gentle caress across the cheek. “Take care.”
I was perplexed by his enigmatic words but my safety was of greater concern. I sped home to conduct my own investigation.
“Secure the doors and windows,” I cautioned myself, which I did quickly.
The darkening sky nonetheless prompted me to retrieve a sweater from my bag.
“Good Lord”, I exclaimed, pulling out my favorite hoodie but bloodstains were smeared across it. “Who is there?” I called out as my ears picked footsteps.
“Sarah is it you?” I panted but there was no response, only a dark silhouette lurking beyond my wardrobe.
“I’ll have you know that I carry a gun,” I pulled my pistol, drawn in an attempt to intimidate but the dark form remained unmoved, swaying gently in the breeze from my window. To my surprise, it was merely another sweater of mine.
“Ah Lydia,” I paused to collect my thoughts but my mind was a blank slate, devoid of all recollection of the day’s events.
“No! No! not this amnesia again!”, my thoughts were in disarray.
“Lydia, remain calm,” I soothed myself attempting to regain composure.
The only things clear to me were the torrential rain outside and my pistol still clutched in my hand. “Blood,” I gasped, beholding the wall where a hand smeared with the crimson liquid had left its mark.
“Wait! What?”, I cried, fleeing my room in distress.
This must be a dream or perhaps a painful memory brought on by my neglect of my medication. Sarah was right; if the police department were to discover this, it would be disastrous.
“Mother,” I heard my daughter’s voice as she ascended the stairs to my room.
“Do not come up,” I warned but she disobeyed, hastening to my side.
“What happened?” she saw my troubled face but before I could respond, I succumbed to darkness, my senses failing me as I blacked out.
