Copyright
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 by Inara Reynolds
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Book cover by Inara Reynolds
Jellybones Part Ten
October 31st, 2016
Detective Robinson turned to see who was following him. He had gotten the sick sense of being watched the moment he left the station to go check on Juliette Olamos. Her boss had called the precinct, stating that she had not shown up to work for the last two mornings, and hadn’t called in. In the 25 years, Juliette had worked for the gallery, she had never once missed a shift, nor had she answered her phone when he tried to call her.
It had been over the standard 24 hours as typical for a missing person’s report, but with the murders and break in at the gallery, Robinson decided he would take the case personally. His boss questioned his decision, telling him to kick it to missing person’s department, it wasn’t homicide’s problem. Robinson argued that her disappearance could be a tie into the homicides he was currently investigating.
He had called Sam’s place of employment to speak to him, only to be told he never showed up for work. Seeing no one suspiciously parked on the street, he continued to walk up the driveway to the front door. As he knocked on the door, it opened, and he realized it had been unlatched. Detective Robinson drew his gun, preparing to walk inside.
“Poxston police!” He called out, flinging the door open with his foot.
The smell of decaying flesh caught him off guard as he entered, and he felt himself gag. He could recognize Sam lying dead on the sofa. A feeling of dread washed over him, and he began searching the house for Juliette, hoping he would find her alive. He did his sweep of the house, finding the rest clear.
“Dispatch, this is Detective Robinson, I need a CSI team and a bus at-.”
He dropped his gun as the lamp smashed the back of his head. He could smell the blood as it drizzled out of the wound. A flash of light hit his eyes, almost blinding him as his brain let loose the dam of flowing blood. He dropped to his knees as his would be killer walked around to face him.
“Detective Robinson, what’s your 20? Are you ok?” A voice from his transmitter warbled back.
He looked up at the figure, “You... Why?” He asked as the world faded to black.
***
Juliette Olamos sat in the middle of the living room floor, laughing hysterically as the police entered the house. Blood stained her lips in a crimson ring; droplets trickled down her chin as she clutched Sam’s heart in her hand. At her feet lay a statue of a police detective holding onto a cat as if it was his child.
The world faded to black.
Thank you for reading! Creative and helpful criticism is welcome! Find typos in this draft? Let me know!
