Escape from Happydale by Jack Quaid

Author:Jack Quaid [Quaid, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Electric Mayhem
Published: 2019-08-01T22:00:00+00:00

Twenty-One

Jenko pulled up to the station and shut the engine down. The lights were on, and he could see Morrison making coffee through the window. The station had been state-of-the-art one hundred years ago, but since then, the paint had faded and the floorboards had warped. The roof leaked, the heat didn’t work in the winter, and during the summer, it was like an oven. It was a twenty-by-twenty-feet room with a few desks, a gun cabinet, and a small cell in the corner, which was only bars drilled into the roof and the floor.

He pulled Parker out of the patrol, took her into the station and put her straight into the cell. He even shook the door just to double check that there was no way the psycho could get the hell out and cause any more havoc. He took off her cuffs and turned to Morrison by the coffee machine. He was a good kid. Dumb as shit, but his heart was in the right place. Jenko put him on partly as a favor to Albert Morrison, the mayor of Happydale, and partly because nobody else applied for the job.

“If she moves,” Jenko said, “shoot her.”

Morrison looked up from the sugar he was stirring into his coffee. “I left my gun at home, boss.”

Jenko cursed under his breath and shook his head. “Did you at least run her name?”

“I did.” Instead of continuing, Morrison glanced over and got his first good look at Parker. The mere bloody sight of her caused him to freeze. In his twenty-six years, he had most likely never seen anything like it, and now that he had, it took him by surprise.

“Well, what’s it say?” Jenko asked, breaking Morrison’s concentration.

He snapped out of it. “Um…” Morrison swapped the coffee in his hands with the papers on the table. “We got three counts of assault. We got two counts of assault with a deadly weapon. We got one count of assault with a vehicle, various charges of theft, bribery, an escape from police custody, breaking and entering, and… one count of murder.”

They both looked over at Parker.

She shrugged. “It wasn’t me?”

“And twelve hours ago, she escaped from a mental institution,” Morrison added.

“That may have been me,” Parker said.

Jenko shook his head and poured a cup of coffee. “Jesus Christ,” he mumbled. He couldn’t believe this shit. “Get on the phone and put in a call to Amarillo. We’re going to need a homicide detective, and I don’t want her here any longer than she needs to be.”

Nodding, Morrison picked up the phone, and as he was dialing, Parker leaned forward and asked, “Did you take the head?”

Jenko ignored her. “And find Patrick Dillon’s ex-wife. She’s living out in Knox City last I heard. Someone is going to have to come and identify the body.”

“Did you take the head?” Parker asked again.

“Hey,” Jenko snapped. “You keep your damn mouth shut.”

“The only thing that’s going to get the job done is full decapitation. Now, I’ll ask you again—did you take the head?”

Jenko couldn’t believe his ears.

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