Tag: <span>secret diary of a serial killer</span>

Killer (Secret Diary Of A Serial Killer)

This month I’m taking part in the A-Z Challenge! Which means I’ll be writing 26 posts (on set days through the month) each one corresponding to a letter of the alphabet. Today is day 11, which means letter K.

My theme for the month is: Secret Diary Of A Serial Killer. Each post will be a new chapter in the story – I’m really excited to finally get this novel idea out of my head and into words. I hope you enjoy it! 🙂

Previous Chapter: Johnny Start from A: Anna

 

Killer

I arranged to meet Johnny at the Sunrise Diner again in a few hours. He gave me a disposable cell to use while he worked on mine, so I called the station to see if we had any leads to follow. The desk clerk transferred me.

Capinski picked up on the 2nd ring. “Get anything useful from your source?”

“Unfortunately not,” I said. “How about you? Anything come up about Anna Barlow?”

“There are 87 Anna Barlows in the state. They’re working on it to narrow it down. Meet me on Main Street and we’ll see if any of the businesses recognise her picture.” He hung up before I could answer.

Main Street was where I first saw Anna, and where I bumped into her in a coffee shop. I crossed my fingers the owner wouldn’t recognise her picture, and prepared myself to deal with him in case he did.

Capinski was coming out of a flower shop as I parked my car. He walked over and handed a copy of Anna’s picture to me.

“You want to take that side and I’ll take this one?” I said, trying to keep him away from the coffee shop.

“No, let’s stick together in case we find anything,” he said.

Three shops stood between us and the coffee shop. I took a deep breath to steady myself and followed him down the street.

Each store was as uneventful as the last. Finally we came to the coffee shop, I could see the owner serving behind the counter and felt my fingers flex and fist instinctively.

Capinski went ahead and cut in line. I flashed my badge to the customers before anyone got irate.

“Have you seen this woman?” Capinski asked the owner.

He took the photo and looked at it, more closely than the other stores had. I could hear my heart beating steady, my pulse calm as I took a mental count of the people in the store, and my hand resting on my gun just in case. Getting a new name and starting fresh wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve had to do.

“No,” the owner finally said, handing the picture back.

“You’re sure?” Capinski said.

“As sure as I can be,” said the owner.

I relaxed my hand off my holster and thanked the owner for his time.

“Next?” I said to Capinski.

We had visited about 3/4 of the stores when the cell Johnny gave me started to buzz in my pocket.

“Just a minute,” I said to Capinski.

“New phone?” He said.

I nodded and walked a few feet away for some privacy.

“You got something?” I said, knowing it would be Johnny.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m still working some magic on the phone, but I got your voice call cleaned up. Want to hear it?”

“Great! Yeah,” I said, smiling.

“Ok, here goes.” There was a slight scuffle of movement then the recording played.

“The dead girl’s name is Anna Barlow,” Capinski’s voice said through my phone.

Next Chapter: Liar

April 14, 2017
Writing
7 Comments

Johnny (Secret Diary Of A Serial Killer)

This month I’m taking part in the A-Z Challenge! Which means I’ll be writing 26 posts (on set days through the month) each one corresponding to a letter of the alphabet. Today is day 10, which means letter J.

My theme for the month is: Secret Diary Of A Serial Killer. Each post will be a new chapter in the story – I’m really excited to finally get this novel idea out of my head and into words. I hope you enjoy it! 🙂

Previous Chapter: Impatient Start from A: Anna

 

Johnny

I left Capinski at the station to call around about Anna, telling him I had a confidential informant I wanted to check in on. In reality I wanted to meet with my tech guy, Johnny, to give him the anonymous call, and my phone to check out.

Leaving the phone in the glove box of my car – out of hearing range – I used a pay phone at the corner to call Johnny. It went straight to voice mail, he never picks up.

“Usual place. It’s urgent,” I said, then hung up.

The drive to the Sunrise Diner always frustrates me, hitting every stoplight on red with crazy long wait times. I asked Johnny once if he hacked the system to delay me arriving so he’d get there first. He said no, but I’m not sure I believed him. I have no idea where he actually lives – he could be 5 minutes away, or 45 for all I knew – and that’s how he likes it. I could look him up and ask around at the station, but I know he could also do serious digging on me, so we have a mutual understanding to leave things mysterious.

When I finally arrived at the diner I could see Johnny sitting in a corner booth and I waved through the window. He waved back, smiling.

I made my way inside and over to the table. He always looks so normal, you wouldn’t imagine he was breaking cyber laws on a daily basis, and is damn good at it. He ran a hand through his hair. His tanned skin was a few shades lighter than his hair, which was cut short but slightly scruffy like he’d just taken off a hat.

“Hey,” he said to me, then waved over a waitress.

I cringed. “You know they hate it when you do that here,” I said, smiling as I sat down across from him.

He grinned.

“Yes?” Said a very stern sounding waitress behind me.

“Coffee?” Johnny said to me.

“Sure,” I said, turning to face the waitress. Trying to give her my best smile. “Coffee sounds great!”

“Mmhmm,” she said and went to pour me a cup.

I shook my head at Johnny and he laughed.

“So what can I do for the enchanting Delaney Myers?” He said.

I waited while the waitress put my coffee on the table, saying a quick thanks before she walked out of hearing range.

“I need you to get the real voice from this altered voice message,” I said and pushed the thumb drive across the table to him.

He shrugged. “No problem. You said you need it urgently?”

“Yeah. It’s,” I stopped, not sure how much to tell him. “It’s an anonymous tip call, I need to know who phoned it in.”

I waited for any kind of reaction. We’d never talked about my day job and I always assumed he wouldn’t take too kindly to me being law enforcement because of what he does.

But all he said was, “Ok.”

“That’s it?” I said.

He shrugged again, the faded design on his t-shirt rippling over creases as he moved.

“Ok,” I said.

He leaned forward and put his arms on the table. I leaned forward too.

“What we do here,” he moved his fingers to point between the two of us, “Would screw both of us if anyone found out, so I know you’re not playing me.”

“How did you find out?” I said, leaning back.

“I saw you on the news!” He said, grinning. “It was weird, I felt kind of proud of you. As if my help had guided you to victory.”

I laughed. “You’re in no way a father figure.”

“Damn straight,” he said, leaning back in his chair, grinning.

“Before we get completely off business,” I said. “There’s a second part in my car.”

He raised an eyebrow.

As I explained what had happened with my phone – leaving out the part about dead bodies – his smile grew. He loves taking on an adversary, instead of grunt work like the anonymous tip clean up.

“Lead the way,” he said, motioning to the parking lot.

Next Chapter: Killer

April 13, 2017
Writing
1 Comment

Impatient (Secret Diary Of A Serial Killer)

This month I’m taking part in the A-Z Challenge! Which means I’ll be writing 26 posts (on set days through the month) each one corresponding to a letter of the alphabet. Today is day 9, which means letter I.

My theme for the month is: Secret Diary Of A Serial Killer. Each post will be a new chapter in the story – I’m really excited to finally get this novel idea out of my head and into words. I hope you enjoy it! 🙂

Previous Chapter: Hidden Start from A: Anna

 

Impatient

As we left Captain Hood’s office I heard a familiar sound coming from the other end of the room, near my desk.

“I’ll meet you in the tech lab,” I said to Capinski.

He nodded and headed for the stairs.

I made my way over to my desk, the ringtone getting clearer. In the middle of my desk was my phone. The phone that should have been in my pocket – where I put it when I left the house – but had somehow become ‘misplaced’ by the time I reached the office that morning. I eyed it warily, the lit screen showing ‘unknown caller’, before the ringing finally stopped.

I picked up my phone and turned it over in my hand, trying to see any obvious signs of tampering. Nothing visible externally but I knew that didn’t mean it was clean.

Looking towards the stairs I made the decision to leave the phone at my desk, for now. If it had been taken by the serial killer – a large possibility – he could have set it up to record or transmit whatever was being said. I wasn’t prepared to give him a heads up of our investigation any time soon.

Although that might help solve my Capinski problem, I thought to myself.

I shook my head and opened a desk draw to keep the phone locked up. It started ringing again and I almost dropped it. ‘Unknown caller’ flashed on the screen again. I turned down the volume before locking it in the draw.

He can wait to talk on my terms, I thought as I made my way to the tech lab.

Capinski was sat at a desk, with headphones on. I joined him and nodded hello to the tech guy tinkering with volume and other filters, trying to pick up different sounds from the call.

I put on some headphones and sat down.

“…Anna Barlow,” the altered voice said, before a very audible click of the phone hanging up.

“Play it again,” said Capinski.

There was some static before the recognisable voice of the desk clerk asking where to direct the call.

“The dead girl’s name is Anna Barlow,” said the altered voice. Then a click.

“That’s it?” I said, interrupting Capinski who was trying to ask for it to be played again.

“Yeah that’s it,” said the tech. “Anonymous tips are often short.”

“Play it again,” said Capinski.

We listened to the recording a lot more, each time trying different filters, seeing if we could isolate different sounds in the background or tell anything from the dialect of the voice. Capinski knew which specific filters to ask for so I let him run the show.

Eventually we both took off our headphones, the altered voice still sounding in my ears after hearing it so many times in succession.

“This is a dead end,” Capinski said, looking at me. “We should focus on finding information about Anna Barlow – where is she from, why was she here?”

I nodded. “Lead the way,” I said, standing up and motioning to the stairs.

I let him get far enough ahead before turning back to the tech and asking for a copy of the call.

“Sure,” he said, and put it on a thumb drive.

When I got downstairs I could see Capinski heading for the coffee room, so I took my chance and jogged to my desk to retrieve the phone and headed out to the parking lot.

No sooner had I leaned against a wall the phone started to ring again. The display said 6 missed calls.

I let it ring a few seconds before answering.

“You’re impatient,” I said to the caller.

He hung up on me.

Next Chapter: Johnny

April 12, 2017
Writing
6 Comments

Hidden (Secret Diary Of A Serial Killer)

This month I’m taking part in the A-Z Challenge! Which means I’ll be writing 26 posts (on set days through the month) each one corresponding to a letter of the alphabet. Today is day 8, which means letter H.

My theme for the month is: Secret Diary Of A Serial Killer. Each post will be a new chapter in the story – I’m really excited to finally get this novel idea out of my head and into words. I hope you enjoy it! 🙂

Previous Chapter: Garbage Start from A: Anna

 

Hidden

Walking to the car felt like walking to my death. How did they get an I.D. so quickly? I’d been careful, just as I always am. She wasn’t anyone local, she didn’t have friends or family here, she was just passing through on a backpacking trip.

I sat silently in the car while Capinski drove us to the station. My hands clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palm.

I saw Anna when she first got to town, jumping out the back of a pickup she’d hitched a ride with. Everything about her matched the other victims, except her hair wasn’t blonde. That hadn’t been a problem for him in the past – one woman had dyed blonde hair, although she had done it to herself before being abducted, and I had to dye Anna’s after I took her. But no one else would know that. She was transient; she was perfect.

Except now she wasn’t. Now they have an I.D. for her.

I went over and over everything I’d done. From the moment I made sure to ‘accidentally’ bump into her at the coffee shop, to buying her a new drink, to becoming ‘friends’ and having lunch together that same day.

She talked about her family back home, how they didn’t know she’d gone backpacking because she didn’t want them to worry. They thought she was already staying in a fancy hotel somewhere at the end of her planned trail. Her friends were there already, waiting out her 2 week trip so they could all celebrate and have a girls long weekend before heading home. They wouldn’t know she was missing yet.

Capinski parked and we made our way into the station, every step made my legs feel heavier. The desk clerk waved us over to the Captains office, but Capinski stopped. I was so lost in my thoughts I almost walked into him.

“I need to grab the file from my desk, I’ll meet you in there,” he said.

I nodded without really hearing him, and headed to Captain Hood’s office. I could see him talking to Carly, the coroner, and started to feel a little less tense. Maybe I hadn’t slipped up. Maybe Carly found something I didn’t know about – a medical pin or plate with a serial number.

Still not great for me, to lose my only lead against Capinski, but nothing that would point the kill at me. At least not immediately.

I knocked on the door frame, looking through the open door. Hood waved me inside.

“Where’s Capinski?” He said.

“I’m here,” Capinski said from behind me.

“Good, close the door,” Hood said.

I did and then leaned against a filing cabinet near the door. Looking relaxed, but close enough to an exit to run if I needed to.

“Her name is Anna Barlow,” Hood said. “We don’t know much more than that right now. I’ve got some officers looking into it, but she’s likely from out of town.”

“How do we know her name?” I said. I couldn’t hold it in any more, the anxiety of not knowing was starting to make me feel sick.

“Anonymous tip,” said Hood.

“What?” I stood up straight.

“Yeah, the call came in while you were out at the crime scene. They didn’t leave a name, or number – though we have our techs working on that – and possibly used some kind of voice alteration device to hide their identity.”

“You’re treating them as a witness, or suspect?” Capinski asked, leaning back in his chair.

“At the moment, a witness,” said Hood.

A witness wouldn’t hide their voice, I thought to myself. Everyone in the room would be thinking the same thing. But I knew something they didn’t – Johnny, my tech guy who had helped me track down people before. If he could trace this call I’d have a real lead on the serial killer.

“Can I listen to the call?” I asked.

“We,” said Capinski, not looking my way, “Will go listen to it now.”

Next Chapter: Impatient

April 11, 2017
Writing
7 Comments

Garbage (Secret Diary Of A Serial Killer)

This month I’m taking part in the A-Z Challenge! Which means I’ll be writing 26 posts (on set days through the month) each one corresponding to a letter of the alphabet. Today is day 7, which means letter G.

My theme for the month is: Secret Diary Of A Serial Killer. Each post will be a new chapter in the story – I’m really excited to finally get this novel idea out of my head and into words. I hope you enjoy it! 🙂

Previous Chapter: Forest Start from A: Anna

 

Garbage

While Capinksi went to talk to some officers, I took a walk around the back of he cabin, looking for anything the serial killer might have left for me to find.

Moving her there – thrown out with the trash – made me realise he didn’t write my name to pull me into the investigation for fun, he wrote it to sign my name on my kill. Making it clear this wasn’t him, and he saw it as garbage.

Nothing looked out of place, other than crime scene tape tied around trees to cordon off the area. I doubled back and stopped by the dumpster, looking again at the lock keeping it shut.

“Hey, Capinski,” I said, calling around the building. “Come look at this.”

He jogged over and looked at the lock. “It’s to keep the animals out of the garbage,” he said.

“I know that. But look at how new the lock is,” I said, pulling it up so he could see better.

I could tell he was having some kind of internal battle. Possibly jealous that I’d discovered something that might give us a clue. However I was also having an internal battle, not knowing if the serial killer had left evidence inside that might point to him, or if he’d added something pointing to me.

“I’ll get some techs to come and check it out,” he said, finally.

He went back to the officers and pulled out his phone on the way, answering a call. While he was busy I took the chance to have a stroll away from the buildings, closer to the trail and closer to where I had left Anna’s body.

Everything looked as I’d left it – the dirt swept to remove footprints, the pine needles covering everything else. The tree I’d leaned her against showed no signs of ever touching a dead body.

I stood next to the tree and looked around, trying to see where he could have watched me from. The parking lot wasn’t far, but under the trees like this made it difficult to see into the forest from there. The cabins were all empty, and the extra few further into the woods were mostly shuttered up this time of year, the owners sharing time between forest living in the spring and summer, and beach living in autumn and winter. One of them will come back here not knowing I used their tub to wash a body.

“What are you doing over here,” Capinski said.

His voice startled me, I was so lost in my thoughts I didn’t see him walk up a side path from behind the cabins.

“Just… Taking a look around from a different vantage point,” I said. “You never know what you might find.”

He nodded. “Come on back down, we have to go,” he said.

I let him walk ahead of me a little and mentally kicked myself for not knowing about this path.

“Something happened?” I said.

“Yeah, they need us back at the station,” he said.

At the bottom of the path I turned and looked back up into the forest, trying to see how visible I might have been. It looked just as dark and hidden as the main path, there’s no way anyone would have seen me from down here at night.

“What was that?” I asked, not really paying attention to what he just said.

“They need us back at the station,” he said, irritated at repeating himself. “They think they have an I.D. for the latest victim.”

Next Chapter: Hidden

April 9, 2017
Writing
7 Comments