Hello, Little Sparrow by Jordan Jones (the reading list .TXT) 📕

“I know it was you, Brooks,” he said, snarling as he did. “I know you killed your cousin at that rehab clinic…I don’t know how I’m going to prove it, but I’m going to. You’d better hope you don’t resist when I come back to arrest you.”

“I think it’s time to leave, Detective,” Brooks said calmly, without taking his eyes off of him. Brooks wanted to quickly grab the knife he had hidden under the mantel and stab it into Morelli’s jugular, but thought better of it. He would have to dispose of the body where no one could find it…and the car.

He’d have to take the car somewhere and burn it. Too many chances to leave evidence.

“Listen here you sick freak,” Morelli said, nearly foaming at the mouth. “Draper’s not here to save you. What’s to stop me from taking you in right now?”

“Evidence…that and the fact that I’ve told you to leave and you haven’t. Now you’re trespassing.” Brooks’ calm demeanor only infuriated Morelli even more.

“There’s something bigger here, isn’t there?” Morelli said. “Only a sick freak would gut someone like that in broad daylight and not look back. I think you may have some knowledge of this Sparrow fella. Only enough room for one psychopath in the Northeast and that’s you.”

“How do you know?” Brooks asked.

“Know what?” Morelli said, his face growing red by the second.

“That I didn’t look back?”

Morelli drew his gun and raised it to meet Brooks’ eyes. “Why don’t I just shoot you and end all of this right now. I’d be saving a lot of people a lot of trouble. I know you’re good for this. I knew something was wrong with you.”

Brooks took out his phone and began recording Morelli.

“I’ve learned something in all my years of life, Detective,” Brooks said, still recording. “Not all situations can be handled with brutal violence. Some can…for sure. But, others should take a more diplomatic approach. And now, I have you on a live recording pointing a gun at my face after I told you to exit my home for the third time.”

Morelli lowered his pistol and backed out of the living room, making his way down the hall and back outside.

Brooks let out a sigh and felt Madison’s presence behind him.

“It’s OK,” she said. “Mr. Morelli will get his. He has made himself to be a sacrifice. Unlike the vile, but with potential to do as much damage.”

Brooks smiled.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Benjamin came by my desk as I was placing all the evidence I had on top of it. The FBI was coming any moment to seize any and all case files on The Sparrow and I wanted to make sure I gave them everything they needed; no matter how much I hated it.

I did all the heavy legwork, and they come in during the eleventh hour to take everything I’d gathered throughout the course of the investigation. It was almost poetic that my life fell further into shambles, only for the floor to drop out from under me even when I was certain I’d reached the bottom.

“There’s something more to see,” Benjamin said with his eyes on the newly remodeled laboratory. Beads of sweat formed on his brow. “There was another letter.”

“What? Where?” I asked, standing up and following him.

“It was inside the phone. He took it apart with something…looks like he pried it, maybe with a screwdriver. He placed the letter inside and then glued it back together.”

“This keeps getting weirder,” Harlow said, walking in behind us.

The letter was sitting on the table next to the phone, which had been taken apart. The font was more erratic and indistinguishable from a small child.

Hello, My Little Sparrow…

 

I haven’t got much time left…the doctor was sure to tell me. I’d be one less tiresome bore relying on the masses to pick up my slack. To you…My Sparrow…I want to fill you with as much hope as I can before I go. I have only days left, but you have an eternity.

 

At least that’s what it’ll feel like.

 

I’m sorry he’s such a monster. I should have shunned him with the rest of the smooth-talkers at prom. He grabbed my attention early, though, with his sky-blue eyes, dragging me from the dance floor to the back of the car. I enjoyed it. I’m certain he did, too.

 

My bones are week my Little Sparrow, and my skin is beginning to sag. I feel disgusting and look much worse. I can’t hold my head up or even hold down food. I know I have only days left, and I’m at peace with that. I’m not, however, at peace with what you’re about to experience once I’m gone. I’m afraid he will stop being so shy and commit whatever atrocities he planned on all along.

 

I’m happy I was able to keep it together for this letter. I quickly went through the previous writings and noticed some inconsistencies.

 

Growing up can be so hard with a sick mother. It will be even harder growing up with a father who is a monster. Please look after your little brother, my girl. He’s developing an appetite for hurting small animals. I’m afraid he’s too far gone.

 

Love always,

 

Mother

“What do you make of that?” LT Anderson said from the doorway.

Benjamin walked over to study the paper once more. “The pages are yellowed and consistent with the others. I’d say it came from the same source. The same notepad.”

“So, there’s no way he wrote this long ago with mass murder in mind just to string us along?” I asked.

“That would be some constraint,” Harlow added. “It sounds an awful lot like the matriarch is sick, and she’s talking to the daughter. The son