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Read book online Β«On Lover's Lane by Melissa Willingham (drm ebook reader .TXT) πŸ“•Β».   Author   -   Melissa Willingham



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Death At The Hot Spot

20 Years Ago:

The full moon shone brightly upon the five cars that were parked along Lover's Lane. Looking like a big, yellow globe, it cast a pattern of shadows and light. The windows of some of the vehicles were fogged up, due to the enthusiasm of the occupants. Some were lost in ecstasy, while others engaged in conversation. No one noticed the dark, hooded figure hovering at the edge of the woods, observing the scene.

He'd known she'd be here, because he'd been forewarned. Still somehow, he felt unprepared for the reality of the situation. It had seemed almost like a joke to think she'd ever be unfaithful to him. And now, everything was surreal; almost dream-like. Even the sound of her laughter appeared to drift into his ears from far away.

He crept stealthily toward the car he knew she shared with her lover. He didn't have any idea how he'd respond once he saw her in the arms of another man. He didn't comprehend how he was supposed to feel. He felt nothing; yet he felt everything, as soon as he jerked open the door, without warning.

Caught off guard, they sat up, scrambling for their clothing. She apologized and tried to explain. But he heard none of it. Running on pure adrenaline and instinct, he pulled out a hunting knife and his gun. Silent and deadly, he unleashed the fury upon them that suddenly burst free. Then he moved on to the next car, shooting out tires and continuing his rampage, until he was satisfied.

***

20 Years Later-Present Day:

Ethel Morgan bustled about the little grocery store she'd owned for half of her life. Since her husband passed on, she'd managed it all by herself, until her grandson, Seth, moved in to help out. He was a wild one, always into mischief.

Wiping her hands on her well-worn apron, Ethel made her way to the other side of the building, which served as a small cafe. "Seth?" she called, receiving no answer. "Confound that boy! He's never around when he's needed."

"He probably took off when my Grandpa pulled in. I thought I saw him peeling out," Logan offered, grinning sheepishly. "They don't exactly get along."

Missy elbowed him in the ribs and rolled her eyes heavenward. Her blonde hair swished about; her sky-blue eyes flashing in consternation. "Oh, hush. Don't get her riled up. She's going through a lot, with Seth being accused of those recent murders on Lover's Lane."

Ethel glanced at Missy in exasperation and addressed Sheriff Baxter as she poured coffee. "Why on earth must you railroad my grandson, Floyd? He may be a troublemaker, I admit. But he has never harmed anyone."

The sheriff calmly took a sip of his brew and took off his Stetson. He ran a hand through his graying hair, pinning his gaze on the amply rounded woman. "He is the most likely suspect we have. Besides, you got any better ones? Let's hear it."

She threw down a kitchen rag she'd been holding and placed both hands firmly on her hips. "You're darned right I do; that crazy old hermit, Harley, for one. He lives right near those woods where those killings took place. Not exactly a long walk, you know. He's been known to get drunk and get violent when people come near his shack."

Sheriff Baxter coughed. "We've all heard that one before. Anyone else come to mind?"

"Sure, how about Samuel Kennedy? His unfaithful wife, Sandra, was attacked that night, but she survived. She doesn't even know who it was, because the guy wore a hood. For all we know, her husband found her cozying up to some paramour and blew his top. He does seem to be the jealous type, if you ask me. He keeps her on a short leash."

Missy cleared her throat. "That's my parents you're talking about, Ethel. Dad would never hurt Mom, first of all. Second, Mom was only meeting a coworker to talk about some issues at work."

The elderly woman chuckled in disbelief. "Meeting him on Lover's Lane? Please, honey! I know you're not that naΒ’ΒΏΒ½ve."

Logan bristled. "You leave Missy alone! How dare you patronize her in your petty attempts to draw suspicion away from Seth?"

Sheriff Baxter held up a hand to intervene. "Simmer down, everyone! Ethel, are you finished with your broken-record suspect list?"

Clasping her fingers together, she frowned. "I have one more, Jeffrey Smith. His girlfriend, Gina, was killed that night. I mean, the man lost his wife, Evelyn, to cancer. Then a couple years later, he hooks up with the town tramp, to play house for his son's benefit. He gets deployed for several months and comes home to find her cheating. He must've flipped his wig."

Deputy Smith appeared suddenly. "Now Ethel, you're tarnishing my old man's reputation. I'll thank you kindly not to do that," he told her.

The woman peered at him uncertainly. "You look so much like your daddy. So, how is he these days, Hank?"

He seated himself with the others. "He's doing good. Say, pour me a cup of that coffee."

***

On the drive to Missy's house, Logan said, "Grandpa's gonna catch whoever's behind the murders. He said he intends to interview all of the suspects again."

Missy nodded, deep in thought; her wheels churning desperately. "I'm going to help him. I've got some plans of my own. Beginning with asking my mom and dad about what happened that night. I was only three years old at the time, so I don't remember."

Logan wrinkled up his nose. "Oh, no, not that Nancy Drew stuff again! This is serious business here. Someone could get hurt or killed and has," he protested. "Not just twenty years ago, either. Think about those two couples out on Lover's Lane, three weeks ago."

"I know, but it'll be safe enough. I'll just do a little snooping around, that's all, inside their homes. Since I already live with my parents, that one's covered. I can offer my maid services to Mr. Peters and Mr. Smith. Everyone in town knows that I'm trying to start my own cleaning business."

"No way!" Logan argued. "You are absolutely not going into their homes. It's too dangerous!"

Missy smiled, throwing him a defiant look. "Yes, I am. Just watch me," she retorted.

*** 

Missy's Investigation

Missy moved around her bedroom glancing anxiously at the clock on the wall. She hurriedly gathered the old newspaper clippings that she had found in old storage boxes sitting behind the furnace in the corner of the basement.

She had hid the clippings deep in the back of her closet so no one would find them"not before she had time to peruse them. She was certain that her mother had clipped and saved them. After all, mom was there when it happened, and she survived that horrible, fateful night, though just barely.

Thy clippings had yellowed, but were still readable. "It's only five o'clock," she thought out loud. "Mom still won't be home for at least another hour, and dad will make a late night of it down at O'Leary's, his usual haunt. I've got to get these clippings in order!"

Missy was determined to go through anything that she could find connected to that night with a fine-toothed comb. Something had to give and she would be there when it did.

"Okay, here we go, all in order. September 8, 1993...21, 22, 23, 24, 26, 30, October 10th, November 20th. Looks like these murders were the only thing that ever happened in this town," Missy slowly said as she read through the various reports.

"Hmm, how about that? Today is September 8th, the day of the original murders. I wonder if there could be a possible connection with the anniversary of the '93 murders and the recent murders."

***

"Sheriff Baxter, come in."

"Yeah, dispatch," Sheriff Baxter here."

"Sheriff, we just got an anonymous call from somebody sounding like they was disguising their voice."

"It may be one of them prank callers, but they're saying there's a body up there on "Lovers Lane" stickin' halfway out of the bushes near the wood trail."

"Okay, dispatch. I'm en route to check it out, over," Sheriff Baxter turned on the lights and sirens as he sped down the street.

"Dammit!" the sheriff said hitting his fist on dashboard. "I hope one of them snot-nose kids is playing a prank. This town sure doesn't need another murder on its hands. Let it be a prank."

The cool September breeze smelled sweet and the leaves turning red and gold painted an idyllic picturesque scene. "It is so beautiful up here, it just ain't right," Sheriff Baxter thought as he rounded the "Lane" and came to a screeching halt at the wooded path.

Getting out of the cruiser the sheriff could see what looked like a crumpled piece of material partially covered by the thick brush. "Damn kids. I knew it was a prank. You'd think their parents could train 'em better."

Walking closer, the sheriff could make out an arm covered in blood. The head and torso was mostly hidden underneath the leaves and brush, but he could see it was a male, large build, approximately 6'2''.

"Damn. Dispatch, come in," Sheriff Baxter radioed to the police station.

"Go ahead, sheriff."

"Dispatch, we're gonna need a team up on Lover's Lane." "We have a body here."

"Roger, that sheriff."

***

"Missy, I'm home!" Sandra called out to her daughter as she walked through the front door and into the kitchen with groceries. "Honey, are you here?"

"I'm upstairs in my room, mom," Missy replied moving quickly to place the boxes of newspapers back in her closet.

"Oh, good. You can help me with dinner then. Your father might come home early and he will be hungry."

"That was close," Missy thought as she made sure her closet doors were closed tight.

Bounding down the stairs, she said, "Right, mom. You know daddy won't be home until morning, stumble in, and pass-out on the sofa drunk."

"Honey, you need to try and understand that your father is still trying to deal with all that's happened," Sandra implored of Missy. "He has never gotten over being accused, and with these new murders..." Sandra looked away as her voice trailed off.

"I know mom," Missy replied grabbing Sandra's hand and gently stroking it. "Everybody is worried. But we can't let this low-life murderer make us cower in fear and be afraid of our own shadows; or in daddy's case"drink himself into oblivion. Mom, I know you don't want to talk about it, but what really happened that night? How did you escape, and what did you see. Did you see the killer's face?"

"Oh, Missy, please. I, I, don't know," Sandra said walking away from Missy in tears. "It was so dark and I could only see shadows with the moon so high, I, I..."

Sandra stuttered trying to find the words to continue.

"Hey, you know what? Let's just make dinner and not think about it right now," Missy said feeling her mother's pain. I can only have a bite, though because I have to meet Logan at the library. He's going to help me research information on residential cleaning," said Missy, lying to hide her intentions of finding evidence on the

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