The sun shines brightly in the clear morning sky. Birds chirp from the treetops above her as Rachel crosses the white graveled lot. I hope the sitter takes the kids to the park today, she thinks, admiring the gorgeous day. She glances around at the beauty surrounding her one last time. With a sigh, she steps inside.
The Daily hustle continues all around her as she sidesteps around a cluster of chatty officers to their small area in the back.
"Morning, Serge," Kirk says, his eyes glued to the computer screen.
"Whatcha working on? she asks, scooping up the messages piled on her desk.
"Do you remember me telling you that Kendra Fox was the eighth DA killed this year?"
"Yeah, I remember," she says, sorting through the notes.
"I started looking into the other seven, and like Kendra, they died a few days after losing a big case, and the person who was acquitted died within twenty-four hours of their release."
"I want the case files on the other seven."
"The police departments are faxing them over as we speak."
"Morning, Jeff says, stepping out of the breakroom. He has coffee in one hand and what looks to be a candy bar in the other.
"Please tell me that you're not eating candy for breakfast."
"It's a chocolate protein bar, Serge."
"Good, because I don't want you two to end up like Jerry." The detective will not leave sugary treats alone, despite her constant nagging and the physician's constant warnings. She glances around and asks, "Jerry is here, right?" He usually shows up an hour before his shift.
"We haven't seen him."
"Maybe he had a doctor's appointment today," Kirk adds."
"He is monitoring Jerry closely since his blood pressure spiked a few weeks back. Jeff, I want you to search for any more cases Kendra or Shelby might've lost to try and figure out who the next target might be."
"I'm on it."
"Morning, Sergeant," Jerry says, plopping down at his desk.
She glances at her watch. "You're getting a late start today, Jerr."
"I was checking to see if there were any cameras near Clark's Collectables."
"And?"
"There are two: the bank and the traffic light. Unfortunately, neither covers the entrance to her shop." He glances at the paper clutched in his hand and adds, "Forensics told me to give you this."
Taking a sip of coffee, Rachel begins to read. "It says here that the bullets from all the victims came from the same gun."
"It's probably a victim getting revenge, like I said." Jerry smiles, kicking back in his chair.
"There's a handwritten note at the bottom."
"I saw that but couldn't make out what it said."
"Jack's penmanship does need a lot of work," the sergeant agrees. His handwriting appears as a mere squiggly line to the naked eye. Pulling out a magnifying glass from her drawer, she reads, The bullets match a service revolver that was given to Captain Flanagan when he retired twenty years ago. Her brows furrow, her head tilts to the side as she tries to figure out how that could be.
"What did it say, Serge? Kirk asks
"The bullets came from our old captain's gun."
"How is that possible?"
"I'm not sure." She sets her coffee on her desk, and says, "Maybe Joe would know." Knocking on the captain's door, she steps inside. "The report just came back on the bullets."
"They already told me."
"So, how did the killer get possession of it after he passed?"
"Maybe the gun was a part of his estate."
"So that means the auctioneer would have to have it appraised and tagged, right?"
"It's his legal obligation. But..."
Her eyes light up when she says, "So he'd have a record of who purchased the gun." Turning, she races for the door.
"Rachel, wait."
Spinning back around she says, "I need to follow this lead."
"I already did, and the auctioneer claims he wasn't aware he had a service revolver."
"So he doesn't know who bought the gun?"
"No, but he agreed to fax over a list of attendees and the people who worked the auction with him."
"Maybe we'll get a lead from that."
"While you're here." Joe opens his desk drawer and pulls out his latest letter. "The desk sergeant said he found it on his desk when he came in this morning." Rolling his eyes, he continues. "Of course no one knows how it got there. Said it could've happened during last night's blackout since the cameras don't show anything."
"I was here during the power outage, and the only person I saw in the lobby was." Her face pales; her legs grow weak as she pictures the incident in her mind.
"Who, Rachel?"
She glances up with tears in her eyes; in a shaky voice, she says, "Kirk."
The hardworking lad held down two jobs to help support his sickly mom while putting himself through school. When she was too weak to care for herself, Kirk moved her into the best retirement home in the state.
"He would never do something like this," the captain argues, pointing to the letter shaking in her hand.
"He was the only one there, Joe."
"He might've scared the deliverer off."
"I hope you're right."
Opening it, Rachel reads.
Dear Captain,
The 1990s certainly saw the capture of several high-profile serial killers, so I want to make something perfectly clear. Unlike my predecessors, my targets were not drug addicts and prostitutes but rather abusive parents, to spare the children the life I was forced to endure.
You will find my victims in various wilderness areas along the east coast. Of all my burial sites, I'd have to say that the Great Swamp wilderness was my favorite. Its picturesque landscape and rugged terrain make it a perfect final resting place. You will find several bodies there.
Happy digging.
The Phantom
"I called New Jersey PD and explained what was going on. They said they'd send out cadaver dogs to search the area, but since it's over seven thousand acres, it might take a few days."
"I'll have Jerry keep looking for missing persons along the east coast to help the Jersey PD ID them."
"Are there any updates on Kendra Fox's case?"
There's been nine district attorneys killed. According to Kirk, each of them died soon after a case they were involved in resulted in an acquittal, freeing the defendant." She glances at the note on the desk and adds, "I wonder if the other eight were prosecutors along the eastern coast."
"You think there might be a connection between the DA's and the abusive parents?"
"The letters and the shootings are happening around the same time. I'll let you know what we find out. In the meantime, I'm going to interview the kids of the deceased to see if they can tell us anything."
***
Grace is finishing the breakfast dishes when her phone rings. Quickly drying her hands, she answers. "Hello?"
"My baby sister is dead because of you, so now you're going to pay."
"But I…" Grace begins before the call disconnects. Hearing gunfire, she runs to the door to find her husband bleeding on the lawn. "No," she screams, running to his side. "Stay with me. Please stay with me," she sobs, applying pressure to his wound. "Help me. Please, somebody help me," she cries as her husband's warm blood oozes between her fingers.
A bullet pings off the tree a few feet away. Dashing back inside, she quickly secures the house as she dials 911.