Destiny's Wrath (Destiny Series - Book 3) by Straight, Nancy (read full novel .txt) 📗

my book bag, or my car - nothing. There is no way for them to tie me to the crime.

Jimmy stared at the blinking light and played the message a second time. What would his mom do when she found out about the murders? Jimmy had told her he was going to Noah’s house after school. Shit! Jimmy deleted the message. Jimmy didn’t know anything about phone lines but knew enough about wiring that an electric charge into the line could short it out. What kind of current? Jimmy took an extension cord, cut the end off, stripped the wires and held the unexposed area of the wire with an oven mitt, plugged it in and made a huge spark. He plugged the telephone back into the jack and verified that the line was dead.

He went back to his room to watch the coverage of the, “Grizzly murders,” as one news reporter had put it. In that moment the dream he’d had flashed back in his mind, of a man who turned into a grizzly bear ripping a woman to shreds.

“Brilliant, you’ve shorted out the phone. A repairman will see that it was intentional. You are such an idiot. Why do I even try?” Samael’s voice was full of malice.

“If the phone don’t work, the police can’t call her.”

“You really are as dumb as you look. It would have been better for the police to call than to come here, don’t you think?”

“The police don’t know nothin’ about me; they ain’t comin’ here.”

Just then the door bell rang. Jimmy looked out the window and down onto the curb in front of his house. There was a sedan he didn’t recognize parked squarely in front of his house. The door bell chimed again. Jimmy froze, holding his breath as if this might make the person go away. The door bell rang a third time.

“You idiot, go answer the door! Find out what they want. Do not draw unnecessary attention to yourself.”

Jimmy made his way down the steps and to the front door just as the man was climbing into his sedan. Jimmy called, “Can I help you?”

“You Jimmy Jacobs, boy?” The man bellowed back.

“Yessir.”

“Jimmy, I’m Detective Ross. You weren’t in school today, is that right?”

“No, Sir. I was home sick.”

“Your mother didn’t call the school. Is there any reason for that?”

“The school calls the poe-lease when you don’t go to school?” Jimmy’s eyes were wide.

“Two of your classmates were murdered yesterday. We were checking all absences to make sure there weren’t any students missing. So, is there any reason your mother didn’t call the school this morning?”

“The phone…it ain’t working.”

“It was working an hour ago when I called.” The detective cocked his head to the right, as if second guessing himself.

“I don’t know why she didn’t call. I was in bed with a headache, felt like a meat cleaver give me.”

“Jimmy, I’d like to phone your mother.”

“It don’t work, Sir.”

Detective Ross eyed Jimmy carefully. He wondered if he had dialed the wrong number earlier. There were seven seniors absent today, four’s whereabouts were confirmed quickly over the phone. The coroner knew exactly where Miles and Noah were, which just left Jimmy. He was a poor example of public education, but that wasn’t what bothered the detective. Why hadn’t he asked which two classmates were murdered?

Jimmy’s eyes wouldn’t meet the detective’s. “When will your mother be home?”

“I dunno, maybe an hour.”

“You say you don’t have any way to reach her?” Jimmy shook his head that he didn’t.

“Did you know the boys who were murdered?”

“I saw on the news that it was Miss Abbey’s house. Was it Noah?”

“Yes, it was Noah and Miles. Did you know them?”

“Yeah, they was good friends. We played basketball sometimes.”

“When was the last time you saw them?”

Jimmy looked scared. A voice in Jimmy’s head told him, “You saw them at school yesterday. Tell him you’re sick, and you need to lie down.”

“I saw them at school yesterday. Hey, I’m still sick. Can I go back in now?”

“Sure, Jimmy, could you give me your mother’s work number?” Detective Ross had exceptional instincts. Something about this kid was off. He could see the sweat droplets forming on the kid’s brow, the way the kid’s eyes wouldn’t make contact with his, the high pitch in his voice.

“She ain’t supposed to get calls at work. I’ll tell her you want her to call when she gets home.”

Jimmy began closing the door. Detective Ross put his shoe to the door as a stopper. “I think her boss will understand; can you get me that number, son?”

Detective Ross could see the guilt on Jimmy’s face. Detective Ross didn’t miss the fact that Jimmy knew exactly who the victims were, and he neither asked him for his confirmation or how they were murdered. This was to have been a routine call. Just covering the bases, he’d told himself before he arrived. He just wanted to make sure there weren’t any more dead students. Detective Ross had been one of the first on the gruesome scene. Mrs. Camden’s home was a slaughterhouse, bodies strewn throughout: slit throats, stabs to the hearts and lungs - blood everywhere.

Jimmy finally nodded his head, turning from the door to walk back into the house. Detective Ross slid the inside door open further with his foot to watch Jimmy, making sure he didn’t try to run out the back door. He knew this kid was involved; he had to keep him talking.

Jimmy came back to the door with a number written on a slip of paper and handed it to Detective Ross. “Thanks, Jimmy. So, any idea why someone might want to hurt your friends?”

“No, Sir.”

“What do you think happened to them?”

“Probably some escaped convict or mental patient. I saw on the news they was all knifed.”

“You know that was my first inclination, too, but we checked all the mental hospitals and the prisons. No one has escaped or been released that could have done this. What else could have happened