ROMANCE: Mr. Mystery: (New Adult Bad Boy Romance) (Contemporary Mystery Short Stories) (6 page)

“Are you ok?” 

“I…. think.”  Bianca didn’t think her body had been ready for another fight for its life.  She was weak, and shaky. 

Police arrived.  Two went into the house, emerging a few minutes later with Kevin.  Keith ran to the two younger women.  Dropping down, he put his hands on Bianca’s face. 

“Are you ok?”  Bianca swallowed hard.  It was all too much.  She wasn’t sure she could handle it.   The realization, the near death…it was all too much. The faintest beginnings of a panic attack were rising in her throat. 

She was getting oxygen from a paramedic when the second car pulled up.  Patti jumped out.  Her dark eyes frantically searched from Kevin’s car in the drive to Bianca, Gianna and Keith. 

The look on her face said one thing: it was over. 

One year later-

******

Mia was completely different in looks than Gianna and Bianca.  She was as light as the two were dark.  Her eyes were blue and her hair was blonde.  No one could believe that the three were actually related. 

“I think you’re getting voted off next week.”  Mia put down her glass of wine. 

“Thanks a lot!”  Bianca snapped.  The three were having dinner in a Nashville restaurant.  Bianca had made it six weeks into a nine-week realty show.  Just three more and she’d land her record deal. 

“She doesn’t want to win.”  Gianna batted her eyes at her sister.  “She’d have to leave Keith.” 

“That is not true.”  Bianca argued.  Keith has his own band, and his own contract.  He’ll be fine.  We’ll be fine.” 

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.”  Mia sighed.  “Where is Mr. Right, anyway?” 

“He’s coming.”  Bianca reached for her glass.  It was a Jack and Coke.  One of the first things she’d embraced about herself in the last year was that she wasn’t as traditional as people wanted.  She may have been in Nashville pursuing a country music career, but she was a New Yorker at heart.  Secretly, everyone believed that was her appeal to the show’s producers. 

Everyone had encouraged her to do the show.  Keith had turned down auditioning himself because Bianca was ‘prettier.’ 

Mia had come from the woodwork a few days after everything had come to head in New York.  Apparently, she’d always believed her stepmother and her new boyfriend to be killers.  Mia was already soliciting
Dateline
interviews. 

Bianca was trying to put the images out of her head.  She believed that everything happened for a reason.  If she hadn’t been in the car accident, she wouldn’t have been in the coma.  If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have woken up and discovered her new career.  When she was on stage, she was where she should be. 

Not to mention that if none of those things had happened, she’d never have met Keith.  He was the most perfect thing in her life right now.  Maybe she really didn’t want to risk having to leave him. 

“Bianca?”  Gianna was saying her name. 

“Hmmm?”  Bianca put her glass down, looking up at her sisters. 

“I asked what you’re singing this week?”  Mia was watching her over the rim of a glass of wine. 

“Oh.”  Bianca smiled.  “
Some Hearts Get Lucky.” 

After all, there was no truer statement. 

*****

THE END

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Clearwater Creek Park was settled quietly into the western Pennsylvania countryside.  It was beautifully maintained by Frye County-despite that they were nowhere near the wealthiest county in the state.  Children played on fully equipped, relatively new playgrounds while bikers and joggers took to the fully paved trails which wove through the landscape.  The hiking trails were clearly marked, but you had to walk from all of the main parking areas to access them.  Regardless, the hiking trails were always full of nature lovers. 

It was along one of those trails that the abandoned barn sat.  It had been sitting there long before the park was acquired by the county.  Kids had been fooling around in there for years.  Graffiti was no surprise. 

A dead body was. 

The woman’s body was found in the upper loft.  Several years before, a not so bright prankster had spray painted a pentagram and the words “SATIN LIVES!” in orange paint on the wall.  The woman’s body was found directly below it. 

She was fully dressed, with the exception of her blouse being opened to expose her bra.  She wore a button down shirt, jeans and hiking boots.  County police believed that she had been placed there about a day before she was found.  She was identified as Emily Watson, a thirty-year-old single secretary who had loved to hike the park on a regular basis. 

Detective Laura Allbright was the first one called out.  She was from Philadelphia originally, the opposite side of the state from the crime scene.  She was one of the Pennsylvanians who fell into the Pittsburgh/Philadelphia divide.  She rooted for the Flyers over the Penguins and couldn’t care less about their beloved Steelers.  Coming to this part of the state might as well have required a passport. 

Truth be told, she didn’t mind getting away that much.  Her boyfriend was a Philly homicide detective as well.  Well, ex-boyfriend to be more exact.  He was that since she had caught him fooling around with her friend Stephanie.  Since then, she’d been ignoring calls from both of them.  So when the call to head out to Pittsburgh had come last night, she’d gotten right into her car. 

The State Troopers eyed her suspiciously as she walked up to them.  She always got that look.  She was tiny, but well-toned.  Her black hair had grown passed her shoulders in recent months, and it set off her dark eyes perfectly.  This time of year, she was well tanned.  She would never show up on scene in a dress.  It was always a business pantsuit with her badge neatly clipped to the side like she was today.  She’d skipped her dress boots today.  She knew she’d have to hike up to the crime scene. 

“Detective Allbright?”  A trooper held out his hand to her.  “I’m Officer Wright.  I’m supposed to be your contact.” 

“Of course you are.”  She was pleased at the look on his face when she shook his hand.  Laura did not have a weak handshake.  “It’s good to meet you.” 

“Likewise.”  The man pulled his hand back.  He pointed to two younger troopers behind him.  “Right there is Trooper Ashcroft and Detective Jones, from our special crimes unit.  They’ll be taking you up.  The rest of my men are there.” 

Detective Jones was a tall blonde man with green eyes.  He was just as tan as Laura.  But his face did not look pleased.

“Don’t know why they had to call out the Philly crew.”  He grumbled as he offered her his hand.  “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“That’s Detective Allbright to you.”  Laura shook his hand more firmly than she had the other officer’s.  Trooper Ashcroft merely smiled, shaking her hand politely and quickly pulling back.  “We were called out because bodies in the woods are our specialty.” 

“Like they aren’t ours?”  Jones motioned her to follow him.  “The crime scene is this way, Detective.  Follow me and stay on the gravel path.” 

As if she’d go anywhere else.  This man was an ass.  He’d already showed that about himself in just the few minutes she had known him.  Laura rolled her eyes but started up the path.  She suspected it was probably a driveway at some time.  It was wide enough for a car, and that was about it.  She couldn’t imagine anyone trying to get up here in the winter. 

They walked about half a mile until the gravel road ended in a field.  Laura saw immediately that she had been right.  This had once been a driveway.  Apparently there had been a farm up here, and the gravel path had been the drive up to the barn. 

The barn was nothing to look at.  It was in reasonable shape, but it was speckled with holes.  Laura wondered how it stood up to the western PA winters. 

The two troopers led her around to the upper level.  Laura stepped up and into the loft.  The body had been removed.  Now there was nothing but a chalk outline.  Laura frowned at the words “SATIN LIVES!” 

“Did we get an ID yet?” 

“Yes.”  Jones leaned back against the wall.  Laura nodded to the writing on the wall.  She pointed to it. 

“Does that mean anything?” 

“Heck no.”  Jones shook his head.  “That’s been here for years.” 

“You’ve seen it?”  Laura was momentarily surprised by his words.  That meant that he had been here before. 

“Kids have been partying out here for years.  We get called up here to investigate.”   He shrugged.  Officer Jones looked bored.  Laura was not impressed.  She also had to wonder why they called the special crime unit up to investigate kids partying in an old barn. 

“Ok.  Let’s take a look around.”  The loft was completely empty.  Laura could see no trace of evidence up here.  There wasn’t even any blood splatter.  “What was the cause of death?”  She jumped down from the loft, starting down to the bottom section of the barn. 

“Strangulation.”  Laura had figured as much.  She made her way down the small slope.  The bottom of the barn stood open, but had a concrete floor.  Stepping onto the concrete, she found a row of feeding troths.  And several oddities. 

“What is that?”  She pointed to a golf club propped against the troth.  Jones motioned into the troth. 

“Grab some gloves and take a look.  If you can explain it, we’re waiting.” 

Laura reached into a pocket to pull out a pair of latex gloves.  She pulled them on before leaning over to look into the troth.  She immediately frowned. 

Inside the troth was a collection of golf balls in a plastic Easter basket.  Beside it was a set of child’s gardening tools.  Laying between the two was a note pad with the words
SIGN IN HERE
written in black Sharpie on the cover.  She picked up the notepad, flipped it open, and read the first page.  It just got weirder. 

The first page was an entry written by the Clearwater Troll.  The Troll claimed to live here in the barn.  Similar entries followed.  They rambled on about the height of the grass, losing golf balls and needing some sunscreen.  Following it was a collection of sign ins.  Apparently people were signing in to say hi to the Troll.  He, or she, seemed to be very popular. 

“The Clearwater Troll?”  She looked up at the troopers.  “What the hell-?” 

“We have no idea.”  Jones shrugged.  “Might be something, might be nothing.  We can’t be sure.”

“Bag it all up and get it in for evidence.”  Laura put the book down in the troth.  “We need to test all of it for finger prints.” 

Jones walked off, grumbling something about how he’d never thought about something like that.  Laura rolled her eyes.  Working with men was exhausting. 

******

It was after seven when Laura settled herself down at the hotel bar.  She was staying just over the hill from the local casino, but that was too much noise.  She just needed to sit here and drink a glass of wine.  Maybe eat some pita chips and hummus.  She hadn’t decided yet. 

She checked her phone.  Steve had called four times, and left six text messages.  She felt a twinge of sadness.  He seemed to be genuinely apologizing.  But no.  He’d cheated on her.  With Stephanie, no less.  Fortunately, Stephanie hadn’t texted today.  Laura couldn’t decide if that made her feel better or worse. 

She listened to his voicemail while she sipped her wine.  Then she promptly deleted both of them.  She opened the text window only to remove the flags.  It was frustrating, and exhausting.  But the worst part was reminding herself that she had done nothing wrong.  This was on them. 

“Well, never thought I’d see you here.”  Laura turned to see Detective Jones standing beside her. 

“Likewise.  What are you doing here?”  She frowned, putting her glass down.  Jones shrugged. 

“Sorry.  I thought this was a public hotel.  Didn’t realize that you owned the place.” 

“You know what I mean.  I thought you were a local.  Why are you staying in a hotel?”  She wondered if she was about to unleash a host of marital woes from the man.  He looked like the type who got kicked out of the house by his wife.  Jones pulled himself up a stool beside her. 

“I’m not local.  I’m from the Greensburg branch.”  When she looked at him quizzically, he motioned in the opposite direction.  “It’s not far, but when you have to be on scene in the morning, or exploring evidence, they don’t want you driving back and forth.  So here I am.” 

“Here you are.”  Laura nodded.  “So what do you make of it?” 

He made her wait until he had ordered a beer and eaten a few pretzels.  Then he shrugged. 

“We’ve seen a few bodies like this over the area in the past year.  I can find you their files.  If you want my honest opinion, I think we’ve got a serial killer.” 

That was a bit of a hit.  It wasn’t that Pennsylvania didn’t have a history of serial killers.  She’d read all the cold case files about them.  But the last one had been active in Philadelphia in the 1980s and had never made it out to Pittsburgh-as far as they knew. 

“What about this troll business?  Do you think there’s anything to it?” 

“I think there are some kids screwing around out there.”  Jones looked at her.  “I warned you that kids like to go up there.”  He took a swig of his beer.  “That’s nothing.” 

“But what if they saw something?” 

“Then we’ll put out a news report we need to talk to anyone who may have been in the area recently.”  Jones was so casual about this.  He might as well have been talking about a magazine subscription, let alone a murder with a possible serial killer.

“Regardless,” this time Laura made him wait while she finished her glass of wine, “I’m going to go through that journal myself tomorrow.  I want to read every entry.” 

“If you want to read about a bunch of punk kids being idiots, be my guest.”  Jones ordered another beer.  “I guess I can’t buy you a second?”  Laura had already signaled to the bartender for her tab. 

“Not tonight.”  Laura wrote her room number and a tip on the bill.  “I barely know you.  And I thought you were a total asshole this afternoon.” 

Jones chuckled.  He winked one green eye at her. 

“Maybe I’ll prove you wrong.  Or right.  It has to be one of the other.”  Laura rolled her eyes. 

“Good night, Detective Jones.” 

“Good night, Detective Allbright.” 

******

First thing the next morning, Laura sat in the Frye State Police barracks with the contents of the Clearwater Troll’s troth before her.  There had been no hits on the fingerprints in the system.  That made Laura believe that Jones was right.  This stuff had been placed there by some kids having a good time.  None of them were killers.  Probably pot heads, but not killers. 

Laura turned the pages of the sign in book.  There were a few random notes scribbled in it with responses from the troll. 

Hope you find your balls! 

Yes, so do I -Troll

How’s your game Troll? 

-FORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Nice place you got here…..

Yes it is.  Unfortunately too many people know about it

They were all dated in the last week.  That made her even more adamant that she needed to talk to anyone who had been up there.  Laura had to wonder if that last note meant something.  But the next page was filled with more randomness.  The last page, however, was something. 

Troll-I left something upstairs for you.  I hope you like it.  I didn’t think you wanted a roommate, but she’s at least quiet…..

It wasn’t signed, but it was hand printed.  Hopefully there was a hand writing expert who could determine something. 

Laura had just called in the other troopers and sent the note off for analysis when a trooper in full uniform came up to her. 

“Detective, there’s someone here to see you.”  He turned, indicating the man standing behind him.  Laura immediately frowned. 

“Steve?” 

Her ex smiled back at her.  He was a medium height and build with dark hair and eyes.  And he looked stunning in his gray suit and blue tie.  She absolutely hated that last thought. 

“Hi Laura.”  He smiled awkwardly.  “How are things going?  I heard that you got a big hit.”  Laura rolled her eyes. 

“What are you really doing here, Steve?” 

“I…”  He shrugged.  It wasn’t a terribly odd thing.  Steve was a well decorated Philadelphia homicide detective himself.  He could easily be sent out to help with the investigation.  Although Laura did not believe that was his reasoning for being there.