The Lovers' Lane Murders by Cynthia Hickey

Author:Cynthia Hickey [Hickey, Cynthia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Winged Publications
Published: 2020-11-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

“These cops stick out like party dresses at a barn raising.” Jackson leaned forward and glared through the windshield. “Frank won’t move into the open with the police strolling down the sidewalk.” What happened to blending in?

“There isn’t usually this many people moving around. Especially during a curfew.” Pressley slouched in her seat. What a waste of time.

The car radio crackled. Jackson snatched it from its holder. “Officer Hudson.”

“We have a report of a woman saying she’s spotted the man we’re looking for outside her house.” She gave the address.

Immediately, two officers sprinted in that direction. Jackson sighed and pulled the car away from the curb.

“Wouldn’t we be more effective outside rather than sitting in the car?” Pressley tilted her head.

“You’re safer in the car.”

“Sure I am. Just as the other victims were.” Frank was out there—she felt it deep down—crouched like a cougar ready to pounce. With too many obvious officers on the streets, he’d go outside of town or target someone on the outskirts.

Had Grandma felt the same frustration and anticipation all those years ago that Pressley felt now? The helplessness in bringing down a killer? Sure, Pressley had helped identify The Phantom, but now a more evil man stalked the town. She wasn’t sure she could help stop him. Not sitting safely in a car anyway.

They pulled up to the address given, and surprise, surprise, Jackson allowed Pressley to join him outside the car. “Stay with me.”

The man was startimg to sound like a broken record. “I know the drill.”

He cut her a sharp glance, then joined the two officers in front of a two-story white house.

“False alarm,” one of them said. “Nothing more than a raccoon digging in the garbage can.”

“I really thought I saw someone lurking in the bushes.” The woman pulled her fuzzy robe up around her neck. “A woman can’t be too careful. My grandmother told me all about The Phantom, you know. The town even holds a party at Halloween.”

Halloween came early this year. Pressley turned and surveyed the quiet suburban street. A few lights flicked on, curtains twitched as those inside watched the action outside. All seemed quiet. “Wait.” She narrowed her eyes as a man in a mask slipped through a gate across the street. “Jackson.” She took off at a run.

“Pressley!” Jackson caught up and gripped her arm. “Do you have a death wish?” He scowled and shoved her behind him.

Rolling her eyes, she followed him in the direction the man had gone. Catching sight of him scaling a fence, Jackson aimed his gun. “Halt. Police.”

The man froze and jumped to the ground, hands above his head. “Don’t shoot. I’m just here to see my girlfriend.”

“Remove your mask.”

The man pulled off the ski mask revealing a face barely old enough to shave.

“Why the mask, son?” Jackson lowered his weapon. “Are you aware there’s a killer who wears one?”

His mouth opened and closed a few times before he spoke. “I didn’t want her parents to recognize me. They don’t like me.

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