Jillian Chantal

This week’s word prompt for Tuesday Tales is catch. I’m still working on my story called Overkill. We’ve just found out that who killed the heroine’s partner’s wife two years prior. They happened upon this person as they investigated their latest case. Their captain took them off the interrogation due to the conflict at this point.

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Captain Bone waved them in. “Glad to see you two back from dinner. I want you to go home now and get some rest before picking up on the Isaacs murder tomorrow. I have to take you off Linus Anthony since we now suspect him of being complicit in Debra’s murder.”

“I know. Angela told us.” Jacob’s eyes filled with unshed tears. “It’s good that we have a lead now in catching her murderer but I feel like someone had placed some duct tape on my eyebrows and ripped it off all at once making me lose all my brow-hair. It hurts like a open, festering sore now.” He ran a hand over his face. “Like it’s fresh and new all over again.”

“All the more reason to go home then. Take one of those nighttime sleep aids and rest,” the captain said.

Jacob nodded. “I will. Sounds like a good way to try to forget… at least for tonight.”

“You go on, too, Maggie. Tomorrow is soon enough. We’ll handle the interrogation of Anthony tonight.”

“Be sure you have whoever is doing it keep him up all night with no food and little to drink.” Maggie knew they’d have to feed the man something but they would hold off for a while. It was a basic interrogation tactic. Get them tired, hungry and thirsty and then have the person playing good cop offer to get some things to make the prisoner comfortable. It helped build trust.

“He’ll get dinner, Detective.” Captain Bone looked at her watch. “In about three hours.”

“Who’s in there with him?” Maggie asked.

“Jeffery Stutsman and Joy Winslow.”

“Super. They’ll do great. Jeff is an old pro and Joy is coming along nicely in her interrogation skills. I sat in on one with her last week.” Maggie smiled at the memory of just how great Joy was at playing bad cop. She’d nailed that guy in her interrogation. Maggie also knew Jeff would be perfect for whatever game of cat and mouse Linus Anthony might try to play. Jeff was brilliant and would hold his own with that nut job.

“Make sure your partner gets home safely before you head home yourself,” Captain Bone said.

Maggie nodded before following her partner down the hall. She didn’t need to tell the captain that her partner wouldn’t be returning to his own home that evening. He was staying at her place as long as he needed to.

This week’s word for Tuesday Tales is Fly. We’re still in my murder mystery called Overkill. This part is just after the heroine and her partner have come to search the home of a man who they think has the gun that killed their victim. They entered the house with a warrant and were stunned by what they found.  Warning: This tale took a gruesome turn. Totally unforeseen by the author. 🙂

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Maggie addressed the officer, “Take him to the station and put him in a holding cell. We’ll be there when we can get away from here.”

When they were gone, Maggie bent over at the waist and placed her hands on her knees. She took in a number of deep breaths. Finally in a place where she could think straight and process what she’d seen in that bedroom, she stood erect. “What did we just happen upon? I confess, I thought this guy was some kind of attention seeker with a minor record and now this?”

“It was pretty gruesome. I’ve heard of serial killers keeping souvenirs but actual body parts? Like ears and toes?” Jacob shuddered. “Did I really see nipples? Tell me those were not nipples on that bulletin board.”

She shook her head at the memory. “Sorry, I don’t think I can.”

“What kind of nut job does that and then calls us to taunt us about another crime? It makes no sense. He’s obviously gotten away with a lot of murders. Why bring attention to himself now?”

“I’m not a psychologist but he did seem to be a narcissist—and I only really know about those from my studies and the fact that I believe Drusilla was one—and narcissists like attention. Maybe he wasn’t getting any and thought he was too smart to get caught. He clearly thought he was smarter than both of us.”

“He’s been smart for a long time judging by the number of body part in that room. It looked like a charnel house.”

“Do you think he’ll plead insanity?” Jacob rubbed his chin. His five o’clock shadow rasped as his palm ran over it.

“I definitely think he’s crazy—he’d have to be—but I hope the plea won’t fly. He needs to go down and hard.”

“Any thoughts about how Linus ties in to Drusilla’s murder?” Jacob sat in the lawn chair vacated by Linus.

“I’m thinking they don’t tie in but I won’t rule anything out yet. It seems weird that he’d show his hand in response to this case. Maybe we need to pay a visit to the department psychologist to see if she can give us any insight.”

“Good idea. I’ll call her now.”

This week’s Tuesday Tales word is write. What a great word for a writer, right?  LOL

I’m still working on the gritty murder mystery. Our detectives are interviewing a man who lives in an apartment that looks down on the place where the victim’s body was found.

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“What exactly did you hear?” Maggie was getting a bit anxious that Hayes would never tell them what he heard. Was he also lonely like poor Hattie Simpkins and want someone to be a companion? Was that why he was dragging this out?

“I can’t quote the exact words but I heard words about marriage, divorce, left her because didn’t want children and then it seems like the guy has a couple of kids now. That aren’t hers. I figure the two of them were married at some time and got a divorce because he didn’t want any kids and now he’s got some. She wasn’t happy about that turn of events.” Mr. Hayes moved away from the window. “They both left after that and it was a few hours later that I saw the woman out there dead.”

“Did you hear anything at all between when they left and when you saw her dead?” Jacob asked.

“No. I had the TV on and was watching some programs. I didn’t hear another peep until I heard the police out there.” He shrugged. “I may have dozed off. I tend to do that when I sit for too long. Getting old isn’t fun.”

“Can you describe the man you saw out there arguing with her?” Maggie asked.

“Tall, dark-haired. White. Maybe in his early thirties.”

It sounded to Maggie as if Hayes was describing Drusilla’s former husband, David. She knew they’d divorced because she wanted to try to have a child and he didn’t. He’d quit coming home for a number of months. Then one day, he showed up with divorce papers. Maggie hadn’t heard he was now a father.

Since he was their next stop, she made a mental note to ask about any children he had.

Jacob handed Mr. Hayes one of his cards. “Call us if you think of anything else. Try to remember exactly what you heard if you can and write it down. It could help us a lot.”

“I don’t think that guy she was with when I saw her did it.”

“Why?” Maggie asked.

“Well, the way I figure it, if he was gonna take her out, he’d have done it then. I mean, the lady was all over him. Acting like a lunatic.”

“Maybe he came back later when he could do it more quietly. If he’d done it then, there would probably have been witnesses since it sounds as if the whole neighborhood would’ve been able to hear them.” Jacob flipped his notebook closed.

“You might have a point there”—Mr. Hayes looked down at the card in his hand—“Detective Brown.”

This week’s word prompt for Tuesday Tales is smudge. I’ve started a new story where the heroine is a homicide detective and is investigating a murder of someone who used to be her friend but treated her abysmally. She’s emotionally torn as she remembers how their relationship deteriorated and the break up of the friendship but she never wished any such disastrous ending for the lady.

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They drove the few miles to the hospital where the morgue was located and made their way to the bottom floor of the facility.

Inside the morgue, Martinez led them to the table where Drusilla lay.

Maggie had to cover her mouth. It was always hard to visit this place but when it was someone she knew on the slab it made it that much harder. True, she and Drusilla had fallen out long ago, but it was still mighty difficult to see her there with the y-incision and the top of her skull still in the pan on the side table.

“What’s the cause of death?” she asked.

“You’re looking pale again, Blaine. You sure you want to be on this case?” Jacob asked.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re face is the same color as your hair. White on white isn’t your color, darling.” Jacob laughed. He leaned over the table and whispered to the coroner, “She likes to say she’s a natural blonde but have you ever seen hair that blonde?”

“Forget my hair. What’s the cause of death?” Maggie asked.

“It’s complicated but I think I’ve narrowed it down.” Martinez handed Maggie a piece of paper in a plastic bag. “Found this embedded in the fabric of her blouse in the back.”

She peered at the paper. It had a number of brown smudges and streaks on it that she presumed was dried blood. After she read it, she passed it to Jacob. What it said was true. Maggie knew from firsthand experience.

He read it out loud. “Back stabber.”

Looking up at Martinez, he asked. “You found this actually on her back?”

“When they CSIs got done with photos and rolled her over, the note was stuck to the blood on her back. Her blouse was in shreds where someone had stabbed her six times.”

“Was that the cause then?” Maggie asked.

“It would have eventually led to death. One of the wounds nicked her left kidney and another one hit the bottom of her heart. She was able to keep on her feet and walk out of her office.”