Amy

S.L. Zee

Description

Homicide detective Ford and his partner Jesse fall down a rabbit hole of murder, insanity and love. When they are spit out into the land of the occult, they must figure out this string of homicides before it's too late! Ford must eventually risk life and limb to get back to the life he once knew.

Sujets

• Stamp
• Fiction
• Time
• Fantasy

Informations

• Publié par: Xlibris US
• Date de parution: 16 avril 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781669854999
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

AMY
S.L. Zee

Copyright © 2023 by S.L. Zee.
 
ISBN:
Softcover
978-1-6698-5500-2

eBook
978-1-6698-5499-9
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Rev. date: 04/13/2023
 
 
 
 
 
Xlibris
844-714-8691
www.Xlibris.com
848537
CONTENTS
Chapter 1Amy
Chapter 2The Shower
Chapter 3Where did December go
Chapter 4That Terrible Memory
Chapter 5Getting to the Bottom of Things
Chapter 6Sisters
Chapter 7Which is Witch
Chapter 8Who Wins What
Chapter 9The Other Side
Chapter 10The Aftermath
CHAPTER 1
Amy
It didn’t matter what time it was; it was dark probably late. She heard her door creek open; she was sure of it. A cold shiver crept down her spine. The killer had been all over the news, he was a gruesome type; raping and killing young women around her age, she was 26, with blonde hair and slight of build. Could he have been watching or stalking her? The other day she swore there was a man in a red Sebring just sitting in front of her apartment. The knife she kept for protection fell to the floor. Bending over to pick it up she saw her bedroom door open and the form of a man filled its shadow. She screamed and grabbed the weapon.
“Patrice, its Makai.” A voice spoke.
“Ugh Makai,” she spoke.
She almost wished it was the killer.
“Makai why do you still have a key?” She spoke.
She stood up and dawned her robe, her beautiful breasts now out of view.
“I miss ya” he spoke.
“Why?” Patrice answered.
He shrugged his shoulders and offered her a glass of wine. She agreed to the drink. He was talking about this and that when she felt woozy. She tried to stand but fell over. She heard him giggle sinisterly.
“You smart girls are always the easiest.” He spoke
She lost consciousness and when she came to, she was naked and ducked taped to the bed by her wrists and he was nowhere in sight. She tried to call out but realized her mouth was also bound too. She struggled and pulled, resembling an alligator with its prey. Then she noticed Makai sitting in the corner. He was just sitting there smoking a cigarettes a habit he withheld until now.
“God I’m going to part with a nasty secret.” he spoke.
“Watching you all struggle gives makes me so hard.”
As he said this, he walked over to her. The look in his eyes was different. He appeared to be an entirely new human. The desperation in her voice seemed to thrill him.
He reached his hand and stroked her inner thigh, barley grazing her womanhood. She started to cry. Makai bent over and licked her tears.
“Who are you?!” he spoke.
With this he smacked her across the face, the pain silenced her and she stopped crying.
The Knife! He hadn’t noticed the knife. She had put it under her pillow, just the end of it was sticking out and she could get it with her teeth. He pulled his pants down. He raped her and untied her hands so that he could bend her over, that was always how he finished. He was just about to put himself into her anus as she grabbed the knife and plunged it into his chest. He let out a loud cry but it was just enough time for her to push him and run out of the door. Her neighbor was coming home from work and saw her running naked from her door.
“Help me!” She spoke.
She fell to the ground yelling that he was still in there and to call the police.
This neighbor had wrestled Makai to the ground. He held him at bay until the police arrived, Makai was dying because the wound Patrice had inflicted was fatale. He had one sentence to tell the police.
“You’ll never find Her.”
Lt. Ford, a six-year veteran of Homicide and his partner, Dingywapper, a name no one dared call him. He simply went by Sgt. Jesse. They looked at one another thinking the plot thickens; was there another girl out there unaccounted for? Ford told his superior there was no doubt this was their perp, the tattoo on his right arm of an anchor with the word “mom” scrolled on it was reported by an eye witness at another one of his murders. Makai had never been in trouble with the law before, as a matter of fact he never even received a parking ticket. But finding any other information on him was a lot trickier. Apparently, he made his money through selling cars. He was tragically married; such a thing for a wife to find out about her husband. Not only was her husband dead, but he was killed attempting to rape and kill another woman. Then later to find out that he had done this before to another woman.
But no mind, the part that stood out the most to Ford was that the perp was prior Navy. His last name was Mikai and he looked very familiar but what would the odds of that be? Ford sat at his desk pondering the whole incident. His superior, Captain Nobos told him he needed to go home, clear his head, eat and come back fresh. Usually, this sort of direct order would annoy Ford but he was exhausted.
Ford pushed open the door to his two-story beautiful house, a house he and his wife were extremely proud of pouring every penny they had into it. His dogs came running, they were probably starving he had forgotten to alert the neighbors that he had a new case so they could feed them. He looked around how empty his place was now it was a house no longer a home. He fed the dogs.
“Mommy said hello” He spoke.
His wife had been put into the state’s care for schizophrenia after a couple of uniform officers had found her in a ditch, confused and not make making any sense at all. He truly loved and missed her. She was there physically but, Annise, his wife, was buried somewhere behind the insanity. The infliction seemed to happen overnight. Ironically it began around the first murder. Ford blames himself thinking if only he had a different career, but he was good at what he did. A natural gift putting clues together, finding his man as the Mounties say. He was frying himself some eggs when there was a knock at the door. He figured it was the neighbor, Steve, coming to check up on him. He opened the door speaking to Steve, but it was not him. It was a beautiful girl 30 something, soaking wet with long, blonde hair and a pretty smile. Ford hadn’t even realized it was raining. He didn’t speak, just stood in the door way looking confused.
“May I come in?” She asked,
Even her voice was terribly intriguing. He still didn’t speak. She put her arms up and attempted to walk away.
“Wait, I’m sorry I don’t get many visitors.” He spoke.
When she walked in his Blood hound leapt at her. He was angry and snarling. Ford had never seen him behave this way. He yanked him back and put both, hysterical dogs on the back porch.
“How can I help you?” Ford spoke.
She smiled; her smile reminded him of the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland.
“I am so lost… Do you have a towel?” She spoke.
He went to the bathroom to retrieve one. When he came back, she was standing in the kitchen, she had taken off her blouse and was wearing a pink, lace bra. This was his favorite piece of lingerie. He stopped, as a homicide detective not much made him nervous but he was. He threw her the towel.
“I’m sorry was it wicked of me? My shirt was soaked?” she spoke.
Ford asked her if she would like a cup of coffee and handed her one of his old tee shirts.
“Lots of cream no sugar.” She spoke.
“Lost? Where are you going?” Ford spoke.
“What interesting paintings.” She spoke.
He ignored the obvious change of subject.
She began to laugh; a crazy belly laugh he had only ever heard in his wife’s hospital.
“You are cute.” She spoke
Ford grabbed her shirt and handed it to her; he told her he had no idea what she was up to but she needed her to leave. Her cat-like smile only sharpened. She put her hand on his head and said something in a foreign language. Ford woke up hours later on his couch, the dogs were still outside. They were a frightful soaking mess when he let them back it, it must have rained all night. Her coffee cup was still on the table, her scent seemed to linger as well. What a bizarre moment. The eggs he had made were sitting on the counter cold and he tossed them into his microwave and pored a beer. As he picked up her coffee cup, he had a flash of her face. He was always a logical person. Life was life there was no such thing as magic, ghosts or anything that comes with that territory. Whatever just happened was an allusion brought on by his lack of sleep. He drank his beer and fell asleep on his lazy boy, football blaring in the background.
Another knock, startled him to reality. He was hesitant, had she returned? she was an allusion he would never tell his cop cronies about. He slowly rose from his chair and walked over to the door and peeked out the curtain before opening the door. It was his partner Jesse.
“Listen to this” Jesse spoke
Busting in the door with files falling from his grasp. There were similar murders across the country. How did they miss this? The one aspect they had kept from the press was the fact that the perp always carved AMY into the victims lower back.
“Amy…really?”
Ford was frustrated how did they miss that? Jesse then showed him something else interesting. The first victim h