October Runs Red by Scott Donnelly - HTML preview

18

     November 1st, 10:30 AM

     Monday started the new month.  It was a fresh start for the small community.  The sky was still gray, and even a flurry or two danced in the air. 

     Inside the police station, Bethany’s windowsill pumpkin now sat in her trashcan.  She was working on something new.  She was decorating a very small, desktop Christmas tree.  She wrapped a small cord of lights around it and plugged it in.  It lit up, grabbing attention from all over the office. 

     The front door opened and a bundled up Abe walked in with a stack of mail.  He set it down on the desk and talked with Bethany.  There were smiles on each of their faces.  Relief was definitely in the air.

     Carter entered the building just as Abe was leaving.  He smiled at the Christmas tree.

     Carter laughed, “Christmas, already?”

     “I want to forget about Halloween.  I want to forget about October and all the monsters, ghouls and goblins that come with it.  I want to focus on Christmas now,”  Bethany said.

     “I don’t blame you.”

     “Stacy Reed called a little while ago.  She said she’d be in touch with you at some point today about funeral arrangements for Allan.”

     “I’ll be waiting for that call.  Thank you, Bethany.”

     She smiled.

     “Did the hospital call yet?” Carter continued. 

     “They sure did.  Jamie Dart is in recovery – his surgery went very well.”

     “Good to hear.” Carter sighed in relief. He chuckled, “That guy was always looking for his first big break.  He helped take down the Harvest Slasher – it doesn’t get much bigger for a rookie.” 

     Mayor Hopkins entered the station with his now excessive security team. 

     “Carter,” he called out upon his entrance. “Did he talk?”

     “Yes he did.” 

     “And?”

     “Come to my office,” Carter said, leading the way.

     Mayor Hopkins and Sheriff Carter sat in his office.  This security team stood outside the closed door.

     “Well, what did our little psycho say?” Hopkins asked.

     “John Blankenship gave a full confession,” Carter began, noticing a satisfied smile on the Mayor. “He confessed to all nine murders – in graphic detail. This guy was seriously disturbed.  He’s going to go through a psychiatric evaluation first, but he’ll be going away forever.  They transported him early this morning to a place in Portland.”

     “What else did he say?”

     “Apparently he and Kelly were dating.  That would explain why when Brady Murphy was killed and we called John’s alibi – who apparently was Kelly – she backed his story.  He claimed he left early that night from work, but in reality he just waited outside of the store for Brady to be alone.”

     Hopkins nodded, listening intently.

     “He was afraid of her,” Carter continued.  “She wore the pants, if you know what I mean.  She was demanding and impatient with him.  He was a coward and did everything she said – a lap dog with an unhinged mind.  She was the brains behind the Harvest Slasher, and he did all the dirty work.”

     “It’s sickening.”

     “It sure is.”

     Mayor Hopkins stood up, as did Carter. They shook hands. 

     “I am not pleased with the investigation by any means, Carter.  The killings should not have gone this far.  I am going to have to arrange for some kind of disciplinary action for you – I apologize.  But I am so thankful this is over.  Stewart Hollow can now rest and try to make the best out of the coming holidays.”

     Carter nodded without speaking as the Mayor left.  Carter walked him and his security clique out the front door.  He sighed and turned back around to Bethany. She had an unexpected look on her face. She was scared.

     “Bethany, what is it?” Carter asked, concerned.  Her hand was shaking uncontrollably as she handed him an opened envelope addressed to the Stewart Hollow Sheriff’s Department.  The bold letters stared him in the face like an old enemy looking for revenge.  There was no pumpkin sticker on the envelope, so that was good. Or was it? He opened the envelope and pulled out a folded piece of computer paper.  He became light headed and his stomach churned as he read the words inside:

I’ve sat and I’ve watched.

I’ve admired what he’s done.

As my promise to this town,

There will be more to come.

You can beg and you can plead,

But this I guarantee,         

Next October,

Again this town will bleed.