October 15th
October was crawling by, and an uneasy tension was starting to engulf the town. The massacre from a year earlier seemed to have picked up where it had left off.
Carter pulled up in front of his house in his department issued Jeep, and went inside. He dropped his keys on the coffee table and walked into the kitchen to open the refrigerator. Written on the dry erase board was a note from Amber: Working Late – Tons of Bodies.
Carter smiled and opened the fridge. A row of decapitated heads sat on the top shelf - Mayor Hopkins’, Agent Holland’s and Jamie Darts’.
Carter reached under them to the second shelf down and grabbed a beer. He cracked it open and shut the door. He walked back into the living room, sipping his beer. Some dribbled out of his mouth and onto his shirt.
“Dammit!” He yelled, accidentally dropping the bottle. It shattered on the ground and Carter jerked out of a deep sleep.
He was at his desk in his office. He gathered his thoughts and looked on the floor; his coffee mug had shattered. Deputy Dart walked in with a sheet of paper.
“Sleeping on the job, Sheriff?” Dart asked.
Carter didn’t answer. He looked at the paper Dart was holding. “What’s that?”
“It’s our first big break in the case.” He explained it as he handed it to Carter. “There is no one named Braxton Summers in Stewart Hollow, but there was a Summer Riley Braxton who lived here about ten years ago. She lived up on Baker Street.”
“Where is she now?”
“Well, she moved out of Oregon after she graduated high school. She ended up getting married to a guy named Jacob Little, and dropped Summer as her name. She goes by Riley Little now.”
“Do you think she’s worth looking into?” Carter asked.
“I sure do. Turns out they moved to Westfield – about fifteen minutes from here – back in March.”
Carter’s expression was one of relief. “Let’s move.”
Twilight settled in over Stewart Hollow, bringing with it dark clouds and a light misty rain.
Jasper Finch sat in his living room, talking on the phone with Charlotte.
“If you’re dropping out of the play, then I will too. That text today scared the shit out of me.” Jasper said. He had the television on in front of him showing the horror movie marathon.
“You should call the police about the text. Maybe they can trace where it was sent from.” Charlotte said on the other line.
“I don’t want them to think I’m involved.” Jasper said.
“They won’t. You got the text. Why would you send yourself a text?” Charlotte spoke softly, trying to ease Jasper’s mind.
They both sat quiet for a moment. Jasper glanced at the television where a clown-masked psycho slammed an axe into a bikini-clad girls’ back. He cringed and grabbed the remote, shutting the television off.
“Is your family home?” Charlotte asked.
“No. Mom’s working late and the sisters are at some Halloween party.”
“You can come over tonight if you want.”
“Nah. I might just go to bed.”
“Okay.”
Jasper looked at his watch. “It’s a little early though.” He laughed. “I’d feel like I’m an old person or something.”
“Who cares?” Charlotte chuckled on the other line. She paused for a moment, and then broke her silence. “We’ll quit the play together tomorrow.”
Jasper smiled. “Good. Doug’s not going to be happy.”
“Forget Doug. He’s too self-centered to see anything that’s going on around him.”
“Agreed.” Jasper said. “See you in the morning.”
“Goodnight.”
Charlotte hung up, as did Jasper. He stood up and walked into the kitchen. He flipped the light on and a walked to the back patio glass doors. He looked outside, but couldn’t see much because of the glare. He walked to the fridge and looked for something to drink, eventually grabbing a bottle of water. He poured it back into his mouth, but was interrupted halfway through by the series of three ‘beeps’ from his phone. He pulled it from his pocket and saw a picture message from Samantha staring him back in the face. The blood in his body froze and he dropped the bottle of water to the floor. His palms started to sweat and his hands were shaking. Jasper opened the picture and saw it was of him from behind, standing in his kitchen, looking in the fridge.
Jasper dropped the phone and spun around. The glare from the kitchen lights were too much on the glass doors to the patio. He couldn’t see a thing outside. He slowly backed out of the kitchen and into the living room, not once removing his eyes from the patio doors. Jasper backed up, step by step, through the living room and to the front door. He unlocked the door and opened it, only to get jabbed in the stomach by a butchers’ knife.
Jasper grunted upon the knife’s entry, and looked down at his stomach. Dark red blood began to soak into his shirt and spill onto the carpet. His muscles began to tighten as the knife was retracted, spitting more blood onto the door. Another thrust of the knife into his abdomen brought Jasper to his knees. He cuffed his stomach, and watched the blood flow out. His vision became foggy as he tried to look up at his attacker. It was just a dark figure standing over him. The figure held the knife over his head and let the blood drip from it and onto this face. Jasper finally keeled over and exhaled his last breath.
Carter and Dart arrived in Westfield just as night had fallen. They drove though the historic town, following handwritten directions to the east side, and down a rural neighborhood street. Streetlights on both sides of the road lit up the neighborhood and the well-kept colonial style homes sat in rows like the American dream, complete with white picket fences, full gardens and freshly cut lawns. The fallen leaves only added to the beauty.
The Sheriff’s Jeep pulled up in front of 4200 Oak Hill Drive where the front porch lights were on, as well as the downstairs living room lights.
“Let’s see what we can find out.” Carter said, shutting off the engine. Dart followed Carter up the driveway and to the front porch. A group of small pumpkins and gourds sat next to the door, adding an appropriate elegance to the season.
Carter knocked on the door. Seconds later, a young man in his mid-twenties answered. He wore a gray hooded sweatshirt, jeans and slippers. His appearance was like that of an athletes’ – a good shape and a clean-shaven face.
“Can I help you guys?” the man said, looking at their uniforms. “Officers?”
“Good evening sir, I’m Sheriff Ben Carter and this is my Deputy, Jamie Dart, from the Stewart Hollow Sheriff’s Department. Are you Jacob Little?”
“Yes.” Jacob said, warily.
“And your wife is, Riley, correct?”
“Yeah.”
“Is she home?”
“Well, she’s in bed. She needs all the sleep she can get lately. We just had our first baby a month ago.” Jacob said.
Carter nodded, speechless. He and Dart looked at each other, then back at Jacob.
“Um, will you have her call our station tomorrow so we can set up a meeting? We really need to discuss some things with her. It’s pretty important.” Carter asked, handing Jacob a business card with a phone number on it.
“Sure. Is she in trouble?” Jacob asked.
“We just need to ask her some things. She’ll be in touch, then?”
Jacob nodded.
“Great. Have a nice evening, Mr. Little.” Carter said. Dart smiled and followed Carter back to the Jeep. Jacob shut the door, and locked it.
“A brand new mother could possibly be involved with a murder investigation?” Dart asked.
“You never know.” Carter said. He started the Jeep and sped off.