Murders of the Zodiac Boxed Set Read online

  Paris Morgan

  Aquarius

  Murders of the Zodiac

  Book #1

  Copyright © 2019 Alathia Paris Morgan

  Aquarius-Murders of the Zodiac Book 1

  This is a work of fiction and in no way is meant to portray actual people, names, places, events or situations. The ideas were from the author’s own imagination and any resemblance to people living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission, except in the case of quotations for articles and reviews.

  Editing by: Rebel Edit & Design

  Book cover: Widget Wyvern Studios

  Interior formatting: That Formatting Lady

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  More from Paris Morgan

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  A Note from the Author

  Dedication

  To my hubby: Always patient, willing to let me follow my passions and dreams, Thank you, Babe.

  More from Paris Morgan

  Murders of the Zodiac

  Aquarius Book 1

  Pisces Book 2

  Aries Book 3

  Taurus Book 4

  Gemini Book 5

  Cancer Book 6

  Leo Book 7

  Virgo Book 8

  Libra Book 9

  Scorpio Book 10

  Sagittarius Book 11

  Capricorn Book 12

  Surviving Death

  Witness Protection Book 1

  Writing as Alathia Morgan

  Against Zombies Series

  Moms Against Zombies Book 1

  Military Against Zombies Book 2

  Co-Eds Against Zombies Book 3

  Churches Against Zombies Book 4

  Geeks Against Zombies Book 5

  Governments Against Zombies Book 6

  Infected History Series

  Infected Waters: A Titanic Disaster

  Infected Poppy Fields: A WWI Disaster

  Infected Storm Troopers: A WWII Disaster

  Writing Romance as Pepper Paris:

  Summer of Love

  Carter: Summers of Love 1

  Kelly: Summers of Love 2

  Wade: Summers of Love 3

  Jay: Summers of Love 4

  Chapter 1

  Leslie Boxe

  My first call was of a possible homicide, located in a neighborhood in central Dallas. It was my first day as a detective, and I hadn’t even checked in with my new partner, Joe Roland.

  Finding his desk empty, I made my way to the desk sergeant to see what I was supposed to do.

  “Has Detective Roland headed to the scene of the possible homicide?” I felt like the new kid at school. I didn’t want to leave if I was supposed to ride with him.

  “Yes, he radioed in for you to meet him there.” He didn’t even look up to see who he was talking to as he continued to work on his crossword puzzle.

  “Can you let Detective Roland know I’m heading over there now?”

  “Why don’t you inform him yourself when you arrive? Or, better yet, use your radio or phone to communicate. I’m not a secretary.” He lifted his head to glare at me.

  “Yes, sir.” I fled to the parking garage where my car was sitting, since I hadn’t been issued a vehicle yet, which was okay. I preferred to take my own vehicle rather than ride in Detective Roland’s, as he had a reputation for being trashy.

  Arriving at the crime, I had to park down the street because it was lined with an ambulance, two cop cars, and the coroner’s van.

  Detective Roland, who I’d met while working as a beat cop, had just pulled up at the other end of the police tape. He was close to retirement, but his slightly overweight frame still held authority. I watched him as he balanced a phone between his ear and shoulder with one hand, and a cup of coffee in the other while attempting to close the car door.

  Hanging up his phone as he walked up the sidewalk, he asked, “What do we have, Detective Boxe?”

  “I just arrived. Who’s taking point?”

  “You are. I want to see what you’re made of.”

  After we both greeted the officer standing guard at the door, I took out the gloves I had stuffed in my pocket earlier and pulled them on. Upon entering the home, we found the body only a few feet inside the doorway.

  The young woman was lying face down with her arms extended, as if to catch her fall. As I had expected, there was blunt force trauma to her head. Taking a moment, I studied her surroundings.

  “Well, what do you think, Detective?”

  “There doesn’t seem to be a struggle. Or, at least, not a very big one. I think she met the person at the door and went to answer the phone. Then she turned, with her back to the door, she was hit on the head.” Since he’d be my training officer for a while, I knew I had to give him all of my impressions. Not just the facts, but what I was seeing and feeling as well.

  “This is a bold killer,” I added as I spotted the phone.

  “Hmm. Why would you think that?” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

  Bending down, I pointed to the cell phone just under the coffee table. I could see it from where I’d been standing in the doorway.

  “If he hit her on the head from behind while she was distracted, but not from the front, then she may have trusted him. Why would she let the killer in, though?” Detective Roland rephrased what I’d said which was frustrating.

  “I think it was her birthday. Look at the calendar, it’s circled and starred. There are fresh flowers on the coffee table. The paper on the couch is open to today’s horoscope, but on the floor, just under the victim’s hand, is a card with the sign of Aquarius.”

  “Not bad for your first day. Now, tell me what you missed.”

  I knew that he was simply getting me to think through everything, while irritating he was a well-respected cop, so I really didn’t mind if it helped me become a better detective.

  “Nothing seems to be stolen. The TV and computer are still here. I’m guessing the primary goal was to kill her, but there doesn’t seem to be a reason that stands out right away. I’m sure if we wait for the autopsy report, they can tell us what kind of weapon was used.”

  “Don’t give me that line. It’s your job to look at this from all angles, and there isn’t time to wait for reports. The killer is getting away and your crime scene is getting cold. Forget everything they told you about only looking at the facts. The facts will get you halfway there and help lead you in the right direction, but sometimes you have to trust your instincts and see with something beyond what the facts tell you,” Joe instructed me. “Close your eyes and tell me what you see from memory that you didn’t mention.”

  “She was comfortable for staying at home. She was either expecting company that she knew, or a delivery.” My eyes flew open. “This happened last night. Her birthday was yesterday. Who called in the body?”

  Joe let a flicker of a smile flash across his face. “When she didn’t show up for work this morning, her boss came to check on her.”

  “Her boss? Isn’t that a little beneath a boss’s job description?” I questioned with a lifted brow.

  “Some bosses care about their employees, and evidently, this girl was more like a part of the family. Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Joe pointed to the house next door, where an older man in a suit was sitting on t
he steps with his head in his hands.

  Not sure if this was some kind of test, I hesitated for half a second before walking over to get his statement. I pulled out a small memo book from my back pocket prepared to write down everything he said. As detectives, we didn’t have body cams that we could refer back to later, but we were given recorders if we wanted or needed to use them.

  “Hello, sir. Is it okay if I ask you some questions?” I took a seat on the step next to him.

  “What?” He looked around frantically, and finally settled on my face. “Sure. Might as well get this over with.” He wiped at his face, trying unsuccessfully to remove the tears streaming down his cheeks.

  “How long have you known the victim?” I asked gently, knowing that finding someone dead was a shock, especially when it was a person that you knew.

  “Susan.” he whispered. “Her name was Susan Bacon.”

  “She started working for me three years ago, just after she got out of college. I thought that someone with a business sense was a good bet, but she taught me so much more than that. She really moved my company into the twenty-first century. She was more like a daughter to me than an assistant.”

  “So there were no romantic entanglements or problems between you and Susan?”

  “Of course not. She was half my age, and that would have just been wrong. I’m happily married, and she was in the process of finding someone that was worthy of her talents. She’s been to my home and had meals with my family. There was no illicit affair. Her family was from Oklahoma, and there wasn’t really a reason for her to return there after school. She applied to my company because I was looking to expand in a few areas and would need someone that was flexible to go on trips to do business in my stead.”

  “Can you tell me why you were at her house this early in the morning?”

  “Yes, of course. I’d told her last night that I would pick her up on my way to the office so that she would have time to go over the notes with me before our big meeting today. I’m still not really used to all these technological terms, or how to work things that change every week. Anyway, I’d called her from the car as my driver got close to confirm that she was ready, but there was no answer. That’s completely unlike Susan. She’s always on time or early. I’ve told her that she’ll never be able to have a life outside of work if she kept it up.”

  “You encouraged her to participate in things not related to work? Does she have any enemies, or is there anyone that would want to hurt her?”

  “Susan? No, she could be a tiger when it came to business stuff, but she was just a shy girl trying to make it in the big city. There weren’t many friends that she kept in touch with, but no one disliked her. She was always the mediator at work, and helped to contain volatile situations that could get out of hand. We don’t have any business-related issues, or people harassing us either. Is it okay if I call my wife?”

  “I think that’s all for now. Did you give the officer your contact information?”

  “Yes, I did, and here’s my business card. Anything you need, Detective. But please, find out what happened to her.”

  “I’m going to talk to your driver for just a second, and then he can take you home or to work.”

  Joe stood there with his arms crossed, waiting for me to finish.

  “Did I miss anything this time?” I inquired.

  “Not at the moment. I do want to look at the crime scene again and make sure that the techs did their job.”

  I held up the crime scene tape meant to keep people away from the scene as Joe ducked under before following him back inside.

  The coroner had moved the body, but the blood from the victim’s head was still in a pool just inside the doorway.

  Stepping over it and into the living room, I went to her bedroom because I wanted a look around her personal space.

  Everything looked normal, and was fairly neat for a young woman living on her own. I pulled open the dresser drawers and found all the clothes folded and arranged according to when you would wear them. Her room gave off the impression that she mostly worked, and there was very little downtime.

  Other than a few casual clothes, the majority of her closet was filled with business suits and dress shoes.

  “Nothing appears to be out of the ordinary or disturbed. I don’t think the killer even came into the house. I think he just stood at the door, hit her over the head, and then left,” I called out to Joe as I checked the bathroom.

  “The officers interviewed the neighbors, but nobody saw anything suspicious last night. This Susan lady kept to herself and didn’t bother anyone. What would you suggest we do next?”

  “I think it might be a good idea to go to the office and get the closest traffic signal cameras for around the time of the murder. We can see if there are any delivery cars and where they might lead us.”

  “Well, that wouldn’t have been my first thought,” he smiled, “but it works. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Okay.” I headed back to my car, pausing to check my phone.

  There were five new messages, all from this new dating site I was trying at the request of my friends. I’d hated the idea, but after seeing how Susan hadn’t had a life outside of her work, maybe my friends were right. It couldn’t hurt to give this dating thing a try and see what came of it.

  ***

  The Killer

  While the police were chasing their tails, I was waiting for my next victim to wake up so that I could bring her flowers for her special day.

  Finally, at 10 a.m., she opened the blinds and appeared to be up for the day. Go time.

  I went around to the back of the vehicle and opened the doors to retrieve the flower arrangement. The side of my van had a fictitious name of a flower delivery company which would throw the police off for a while.

  It was a great vehicle for surveillance. I could change the logos and plates to fit my needs for the day.

  I pulled my cap low to cover my face and walked up the neatly groomed yard to ring the doorbell.

  It took two tries before she answered the door in her bathrobe, wet hair dripping as she tried to wrap it with a towel.

  “Yes, may I help you?” she asked briskly.

  “I have a delivery for you. It’s your birthday today, right?” I held the vase of Orchids out to her.

  “Uh, how did you know that?” she questioned suspiciously.

  “The florist mentioned it when I picked up the delivery. Also, the balloon on here says ‘Happy Birthday’.”

  She slapped a hand to her forehead. “Of course. I’m sorry, I haven’t had my cup of coffee yet.”

  “Right. Do you mind taking these so that I can get your signature, please?” I pushed the flowers toward her, and she responded as I’d expected.

  As she turned back from placing them on the entry table, the hastily fastened towel began to come undone with her movements. I gripped the wooden weapon tightly in anticipation before letting loose with the other end, hitting her squarely in the head.

  The blow, softened by the towel had only slightly wounded her. I had to pull on the towel and as it dropped to the floor drew the weapon back again, slinging flecks of blood on the ceiling.

  Dazed, she turned looked at me, not understanding what had happened. With more force than before, I landed it squarely between her eyes, causing her to fall backward, hitting her neck at an awkward angle.

  This second blow should have killed her, but I waited until I was certain that it had done its job.

  She didn’t move, but her body spasmed as a final breath left her, leaving her still and motionless.

  I used the towel from her head to wipe the blood from my weapon. I would need to use it again. I didn’t want to have dried blood left behind incriminating me before I was finished with the job I had to do.

  “Thank you, and I hope you have a happy birthday.” I quietly closed the screen door and walked back to the van, my job done for the moment.

  ***

  Leslie
<
br />   I walked back into the main area that was reserved for detectives, only to be met with snickers from those seated around Joe.

  There wasn’t an assigned place for me yet, but I wasn’t about to let that bother me. I was the rookie all over again now that I was a detective. Things had changed over the years, and while there were many women in the department, those that made it up from patrol officers weren’t made from fragile stuff.

  Acting like I hadn’t heard anything, I pulled up a chair and slung my backpack onto the table, being careful of the laptop inside. Trying to get anything issued from the cost-conscious watchdog was horrible. I was certain that the lady whose job it was to provide me with police-issued equipment was instead trying to make my life miserable, so I’d purchased myself a work laptop that I’d purchased.

  Knocking the feet propped up on the desk next to me to the floor, I opened the computer up and typed in my personal codes to gain access to the network. I typed up a request to the IT department for access to the cameras. It might take a few days, and I would need to butter them up if I was going to get anything done quickly, so I would take the request to them in person once I was finished.

  I also filled out a report and added my observations and thoughts of the body.

  A ding on my phone interrupted me. It was another dating app I’d installed last night while trying to calm my nerves.

  The handsome face that popped up couldn’t be ignored, and while I had a lot of messages, this showed a ninety-eight percent match.

  Suppressing a sigh that would give the guys around me more excuses to tease me, I responded quickly to get his face off of my screen.

  “Would you like to meet for coffee?” I typed into the app. It promised anonymity, and the other person couldn’t get your information unless you gave it to them.

  Before I could close the app and get back to my report, it dinged again with an answer.