If you're looking for an adventure in the morally grey, and a crash course of the human condition, this is the story for you! What is good and evil? Where is that line drawn, and who decides that? Packed with humor, danger, feels, and awkward relati...
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"What's that?" Halen asked, coming over to his desk.
He'd been staring at the large envelope for a while now.
"A package from a dead man," Oliver said, and Halen pulled up a chair.
"What?"
"It was post marked the day that Nathan was shot, but has no return address and a delayed delivery date. All it says is "from a dead man." Oliver turned it over and grabbed a letter opener from his drawer. As soon as he opened it, loose pictures spilled out onto his desk, and Halen jumped up and skittered back.
Pushing them away from one another, he tried to figure out what they were. Corpses, for sure, but there was a woman in the pictures. They were trophy pictures, all of them. What sort of sick person wanted to keep a memento this deranged? Inside of the envelope there was a small SD card likely containing the hard copies.
There was also a letter, and he pulled it out with morbid interest.
"Please kill her or the murders won't stop," Oliver read aloud, and Halen crawled back to look at the paper. His enforcer didn't have the constitution for the brutal photos and hovered close to him when he was uncomfortable.
"There is barely anything written," Halen said. "For a dying guy, he sure didn't have much to say."
"No, I guess not." There was a second page, and he flipped the paper over.
I couldn't do it, but I'm gone now.
Richard Williams.
"Holy hell, this is from the guy who lost it at the pen," Halen said.
Oliver narrowed his eyes. The man who'd caused Tanner's death. Why would he do the bastard the favor? Oliver did his research and figured out the girl was Melinda Williams, currently at a university and studying for women's rights and welfare. She was on a number of articles detailing her community service and fight for shelters for women as well as help groups for various addictions.
She was pristine on paper.
Pushing the SD card into his computer, he opened the files and gave them a closer look. There weren't so many, but they were deranged enough that it was unnecessary. In each there was a different woman, but none were the one who was murdered here. Whoever this woman was, she was insane, but the one who'd taken the pictures had to have been equally as void of a conscience.
In the first, she was straddling the girl and pulling a belt that was wrapped around her throat, though from the eyes, Oliver could tell she was long dead. The others were no better. All of them had her pinning a corpse, or violating it in some depraved manner.
