Hartman Liar's Paradise

1. Auflage 2014
ISBN: 978-0-9802238-2-8
Verlag: Sparkony Entertainment
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 203 Seiten

A serial killer with powers will harm again, if no one stops him.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Hartman, Steven

Leseproben

Lex checked his phone once again. It was nearly nine o’clock at night and he hadn’t heard from Peggy. Even when she was with a client, she would always return his text messages. He hadn’t heard from her in nearly ten hours, and his anxiety was increasing.

He grabbed a cold beer from the fridge and popped off the cap.

Plopping onto the couch, Lex took a swig from the beer and continued flipping through TV stations, hoping to find something to occupy his mind. It was his third beer.

At around 10:30, he started pacing through the house, snatched up his fourth beer, and drank it nervously. He eyed the last message on his phone with suspicion.

Was she hurt? Was she cheating on him? Was she bogged down with a client?

A million questions raced through his head.

He finally returned to the couch and tilted his head back.

***

Lex awoke with a loud snort. His own snoring had woken him.

He wiped the drool from his chin and immediately took notice of the time on the cable box clock.

6:42.

Lex leapt to his feet and walked into the bedroom.

It was empty.

The bed was still made.

Lex raced to his phone and illuminated the display.

No messages.

There was something wrong, he felt. Something seriously wrong.

He dialed in to work and told them he was too sick to show and apologized.

He tried calling Peggy’s phone, but it went straight to voicemail.

He peered outside the window. Everything looked normal. In fact, the sun was just starting to show over the horizon.

A black sedan with a searchlight on the mirror pulled into the driveway.

Lex swallowed hard and went to open the door for the detectives.

The two detectives exited their vehicle as a steady breeze ruffled their clothes. One male. One female. Both looked to be sporting attitudes as if they’d missed out on their first cup of coffee and donut for breakfast.

Detective Johns showed his badge. He had tiny eyes and a thick mustache. He had bags under his eyes and looked allergic to vegetables. The female, Detective Lacie, was the spitting image of a detective on a primetime cop show, tough and cute.

“Good morning, detectives.”

“Morning, Mr. Tennessee,” Johns started. “May we have a word with you?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“We need you to come with us,” he replied sternly.

“Can I change? Put on a fresh pair of pants and a shirt.”

Detective Johns nodded.

Lex left the door open as a way to show his trust in them and that they could enter easily if they felt he was up to something ominous.

He kept the same pair of jeans on but grabbed a black shirt from the closet. He took one glance in the bathroom mirror, thinking that something bad was going on. Peggy wasn’t home, the cops were here and talking vague, and a general feeling of anxiety filled the pit of stomach.

He swiped on some deodorant and grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone before heading to the front door.

“One car or two?”

“Come with us.”

Lex grabbed his jacket and followed the detectives to the vehicle.

As they turned out of the driveway, Lex shifted in his seat and extended his arms wide and placed them over the back of the seat. He placed his leg up on the seat and smiled widely. It was an action to garner the attention of the detectives, and it worked.

Detective Johns eyed him in the rearview mirror and Detective Lacie turned to look at him.

“Comfortable, Mr. Tennessee?” Detective Lacie asked.

“Quite. Thank you,” Lex replied.

“Different from the last time you were in the back of a government vehicle?” Detective Johns asked.

Lex motioned as if his hands were handcuffed together, then slowly moved them apart.

“The joys of not being handcuffed.”

Detective Johns nodded and returned his focus to the road.

Lex looked out the window again as they hit a pocket of traffic. Men and women on their way to work were shuffling along on the sidewalks and illegally jaywalking through the stopped traffic. It wasn’t too busy this early in the morning, but the early birds were eager to catch their worms.

“What’s this all about, anyway? I’m an ex-con, but that doesn’t mean the police have to add my photo to every lineup, ya know.”

Lex had a feeling he wasn’t suspected of anything, but he was using his statement as a ploy to get more information. The officers were amicable and professional, far different from the ones who’d come knocking down his door and dragged him out in zip-ties.

“Should we be lining you up?” Detective Johns looked back through the rearview at Lex. “You haven’t stolen any cars lately, have you?”

“I’m a changed man, Detective. Life’s great. Damn near perfect. Happy wife, happy life. I’ve got a full-time job with benefits, drive the speed limit, give to charity.” He continued with greater emphasis: “And I pay your salary with my taxes.” Lex leaned forward. “So I come in peace, and I’d appreciate it if you would tell me what’s going on.”

Detective Lacie answered, “We need you to identify the body of a female. We believe she’s a relative of yours.”

Lex slumped back in his seat. He ceased trying to make eye contact with the detectives and instead sucked in a big breath of air and exhaled it slowly, loudly. He pulled his phone from his pocket, still not seeing any contact from his wife.

He lowered his head and furrowed his eyebrows with grave concern.

Denial took over any semblance of the reality he might have to face.

“My closest relative is a hundred miles away,” he murmured.

He fought his emotions.

The car turned into the parking lot of the county morgue. Detective Lacie opened the back door for Lex, and he stepped out. The wind pulled hard from the east. Lex felt it poke at his face.

He was in a daze, unsure of anything.

The detectives knew that they were potentially leading the man to view the body of a loved one, so they treated him patiently.

“Come on, Mr. Tennessee,” Detective Lacie said, guiding Lex toward the doors. “This way.”

He stumbled forward, refusing to even look at the doors.

The fluorescent bulbs shimmered above, giving the pasty green linoleum floor and chalky white walls a depressing, institutionalized feel. The pungent scent of formaldehyde wrinkled Lex’s nose and nearly caused him to gag.

The detectives took him into the morgue, where a white sheet covered a body on the table. The coroner, an older, pale-skinned man with a grayish beard, looked up from his computer station. He put down a file and walked over.

The detectives nodded as Lex stood above the body. He shook his head, fighting the idea that his beloved wife lay below the starched white sheet.

The coroner pulled the sheet back, tenderly revealing Peggy’s body.

Her bruised face looked awkwardly placed, like a mask that crinkled in the wrong spot. She didn’t look as if she were resting in peace but more like she was in great discomfort and having a bad dream.

Lex could hardly breathe. He gasped as the overwhelming horror took its toll on his mind and body. Tears rushed to his eyes, and he quickly blinked them away.

“Mr. Tennessee, is this your wife? Is this Peggy Tennessee?” Detective Lacie asked.

Lex nodded. “This is my wife.”

The coroner pulled the sheet back over Peggy’s face.

“Excuse me.” Lex raced out of the room. His eyes scanned up and down the hall before he found the men’s room and darted inside. He wasn’t going to make it to a stall, so he vomited into the sink. He turned the faucet, and water mingled with the meager contents of his stomach and flowed down the drain.

He cupped his hand and took a few sips of water to wash out the bile.

It took a moment before he could look into the mirror, but when he finally did, he saw a heartbroken and disheveled individual, a man he didn’t recognize.

Lex regained his composure and wiped his face down.

When he exited the men’s room, both detectives were standing in the hall. Detective Lacie held a cup of water. She held it out for Lex, and he accepted the gesture.

“Mind if I …” He pointed to a seat and sat down before either one could answer. He placed the cup on the ground and buried his head in his hands. “How? How did she die?”

“Blunt trauma.”

Lex lifted his head.

“She fell from a balcony.” Detective Johns flipped open a notepad and unhooked the pen. “Do you know of anyone who had any interest in harming your family?”

Lex shook his head. “No. I don’t know.”

“Anyone who thought you or Peggy were their enemies?”

“Enemies? Peggy was a saint.”

“What about you, Lex? Mickey? J-Roc?”

“No.”

“Full Throttle Mike?”

Detective Johns’ list of names brought back a whole host of memories from his darker days. They were criminals as he had been but he’d had no contact with any of them in well over three years, if not significantly longer.

“This was an accident, right? Are you saying someone pushed her off a balcony?”

“The balcony collapsed, Lex,” Detective Lacie...