Gemini: Murders of the Zodiacs Read online

  There wasn’t much I could respond with that wouldn’t get me fired then and there, so I nodded and scurried out to the secretary for more details.

  “Here are your tickets. I’ve reserved a room for you at The Stratosphere. I’ll update you with information about dinner, but your plane is leaving the airport soon.” She gave me a sympathetic wink. “Go get ’em.”

  “Sure thing,” I muttered to myself, wondering why I let the partners treat me like this just because I was still the newest person in the firm after ten years.

  “I’m not going to be able to make it to dinner tonight, sis. They’re having me fly to Vegas for a meeting. I wish I could, but if I don’t get this deal, I’m out of a job. And if that happens, I might have to come live with you,” I chuckled as the driver wove through traffic on the way to the airport.

  “We can do something this weekend to celebrate our birthdays,” I assured her. “Yes, I’ll play a few dollars for you after I get this deal completed. Who knows, maybe our luck will change?” After saying our goodbyes, I hung up, willing the driver to hurry.

  After years of being bounced around in the system, Emma Lynn and I had finally been able to see each other during high school when we were placed in the same home. We were separated again during college because we’d chosen different career paths. It seemed that the universe was determined to keep us apart in some way. The only time I ever felt like I had a home was when she was around.

  My driver screeched to a halt, dropping me off right at my terminal. As my feet hit the ground, I heard my name being paged over the loud speaker. “Norah Baker, your party is waiting in terminal five for you.”

  A quick glance pointed me in the direction of terminal five, but doing more than a fast walk was going to be impossible in these shoes.

  When I reached terminal five, the airline’s personnel scanned my ticket and waved me through. In my hurry, I hadn’t noticed that there wasn’t a plane pulled up to the terminal, and did an about face into the knife as the momentum pushed it into my heart. The attendant followed the collapse of my body to the floor, retrieving the knife only to stab me four more times.

  I would never make partner now.

  Emma Lynn Baker

  I hung up from my sister’s hurried call, frustrated. It seemed like I was the one always trying to be a part of her life, but she always seemed to be too busy.

  Throwing open the refrigerator, I grabbed the pint of ice cream I’d bought yesterday when I’d picked up our birthday cake. Slamming the drawer shut after grabbing a spoon, I headed to the living room to binge watch something to get my mind off her betrayal.

  As I sank onto the couch, the tears began to fall. This birthday was officially the worst. The sound of the doorbell ringing brought my head up. Maybe she hadn’t forgotten and sent flowers to make up for ditching me.

  I pulled open the door, expecting something exciting and magical to happen, only to have a knife hit me squarely in the chest.

  Reflexively, I looked up into the face of my killer and gasped as he pulled the knife out. “Why?” I coughed at him as he stabbed me again and again.

  My body lay there lifeless, the spoon and melting ice cream dripping onto the floor.

  “Are they all dead?”

  “Yes. Each set of twins are dead. They all have more stab wounds for each day of the zodiac sign. Have the police figured out what is going on?” I questioned, curious about how closely I needed to guard my trail.

  “Nothing has made it onto their radar yet. With the varied types of wounds and cities, it might take them longer to put the pieces together.”

  “Understood. I’ll carry on with the plan.”

  Chapter 2

  Leslie

  I was a complete disgrace to the police force. I’d left our last crime scene without waiting for anyone else. I’d been home two days now, and I honestly had no intentions of ever leaving.

  My sister had called because Ryan had called her. Then Adam had called her, and well…she just felt like she should check on me.

  I’d thanked her and hung up. Anytime someone called me, I just sent a copy/paste text message back: “I’ll return your call when I feel like it. I’m alive, but don’t want to talk to anyone right now.”

  The ticking clock hadn’t been kind to us, but I needed a moment to refresh my brain. Just a few minutes to do absolutely nothing and process all the crap in my life.

  Even being shot or finding murdered people hadn’t made me pause, yet these other things had hit me hard. I needed to reevaluate what I was doing as a cop with my life, or rather as a detective since I’d been promoted.

  Why did this death weigh on me so much more? Was it because she’d just been responding to a messed-up life? Other killers had horrible things done to them, and I hadn’t felt even a twinge of sympathy for them.

  In a way, I was glad that she was dead and I hadn’t had to put cuffs on her, but that didn’t absolve her from all the other lives she took as the Taurus Killer. For some strange reason, I’d connected to Dana and understood what had made her seem so crazy.

  Now I was just being crazy. There was never a reason to go out and kill people based on a profile just because you could. Maybe it had been seeing her childhood home and knowing that she’d never been whole after her accident.

  I sat on the floor, hugging the throw pillow to my chest. I’d never told anyone about the accident I’d been in when I was five. What I’d seen that day had been enough for me to faint, knocking me out when I’d hit the ground. My parents thought I’d fainted because of the heat and rushed me to the emergency room. Because it had been a serious blow on the head, they’d kept me overnight for observation.

  Shuddering, I wondered if I should find someone to tell about what had happened that day as it replayed before my eyes like a movie.

  We’d been at a birthday party for my sister Karen out at the public lake. They’d been throwing the frisbees around, and one went closer to the woods. I’d run to catch it because I was fast, even back then, and I got there just in time to see a man struggling with a woman. I was shocked as he slid the knife across her throat, letting blood spray everywhere.

  I must have whimpered because he held his finger to his lips in the motion for silence and dragged her into the woods. My mind couldn’t process it, but I knew it wasn’t good. When I woke up in the hospital, I wanted to say something, except the memory of the clown mask he wore as he told me to be quiet would surface. I knew what would happen if I told anyone. He would come to get me and cut my throat, just as he’d done with hers.

  Wiping tears that coursed down my face, I became curious. Wouldn’t the newspaper have had something about the disappearance of a girl if he’d really killed her?

  For the first time, I felt a twinge of excitement as I got up and went to find where I’d put my laptop.

  It was dead after not being used for several days, and I waited impatiently for it to boot up.

  Ignoring all the notifications that I had mail and messages, I typed in missing women in Rockwall County during the years of 1988-1994, just in case I was remembering the date wrong.

  A list of names appeared on the screen. Searching those in 1989 and 1990 first, I didn’t see any that hadn’t been found a few days later. Flipping through some of the newspapers that were online yielded no results. I was going to have to call my mother. This wasn’t something that I could ignore any longer.

  I picked up the cell phone with the warning that my mailbox was full, and I had twenty text messages. They could all wait, I needed to find out if I’d just hallucinated this story or if it might have happened.

  “Hey, Mom, it’s Leslie. Yes, I’m fine. I’ve just been home for a few days thinking. Remember that time I got a concussion and had to stay at the hospital overnight?” I gripped the phone, waiting for what she had to say.

  “Of course. It was the scariest day of my life. I had no idea what was wrong with you, and if you were going to be okay. Why were you thinking abou
t this?”

  “Was there a girl or woman that went missing during that time?”

  “Oh, honey. I was so focused on you that I wasn’t paying attention, but I think there was someone from another area, not a local, though.”

  “I remember seeing it. I saw him cut her throat. He was wearing a clown mask. That’s why I fainted. I must have hit my head on a rock when that happened,” I confessed.

  “Oh, honey. Why didn’t you ever tell us about that?” Mom sniffled.

  “I thought he would come and do the same thing to all of us. I couldn’t say anything,” I whispered, still feeling the dread from that moment.

  “Aw, baby. I wish I was right there to hold you. It’s going to be okay. You couldn’t have possibly found a missing girl and the killer when you didn’t even know what he looked like. It’s not your fault. You wouldn’t have been able to save her. You just have to focus on saving the ones you can.” Mom’s words sounded reassuring, but I knew the truth.

  “Mom, you’ve been watching too many TV shows. As a detective, I don’t get many chances to save someone. I get to deal with the aftermath of what’s been done to them.”

  “Now, don’t say that. You do more than just save them. You get justice for the survivors. That’s almost as important as saving them. Not everyone is able to be saved, but the closure you bring to their families is just as important.”

  “I just feel so helpless, Mom. We know this killer is out there, and we can’t even stop them until they’ve started leaving a body count. He’s so smart and knows just how to play us. It’s a losing battle,” I groaned.

  “Sorry, honey, I’m confused. You only saw one man killing one woman? How can he still be killing after all these years?”

  “Um, I switched gears. I was talking about my current case. We just seem to be treading water. Even as a cop, I got to make more of a difference than I have lately. We have plenty of dead, but no one to pay for the crimes because he’s planning it that way.”

  “You mean there are two people killing and you’re only finding one of them dead while the other one escapes?”

  “No. One person is doing the killing, and it could be anywhere in the U.S. The other one is telling them where to go, the one we call the Zodiac Master. We almost catch one and then they kill themselves, or he kills them when they’ve reached their quota.”

  “That’s terrible, honey. No wonder you’re in a bad mood. How long has this been going on?”

  “Well, um…”

  “Out with it, young lady. How long has this been happening?” Mom demanded.

  “Since January,” I mumbled.

  “That’s almost five months. You’re overworked, and I would be extremely frustrated as well. Have you tried looking for someone with a previous past of killing? He might just be tired of doing it himself and wants to play without putting himself out there. Hopping from city to city and killing people does require some stamina,” Mom suggested.

  “We’ve gone back a ways, and the FBI has a partial profile. They gather more every month, but that means people are dying so we can find him. He seems to think that it’s a game and he can outsmart us.” I sighed, not any closer to a solution than when I called her.

  “I wish there was a way I could help you, sweetie.”

  “Maybe there is. Did we ever have anyone that professed to be psychic in our family tree? Like someone who spoke to ghosts or saw things before they happened?” I sat with fingers crossed as I waited for her answer.

  “No. Is there something I need to know? Are you hearing voices or something? Did getting shot cause you to start thinking you were psychic?”

  “No, Mom. I’ve got a friend that’s Romani, or as most American’s use the more derogatory slang word, Gypsy. They get a bad rap, but I truly think that she might have a few abilities. She recently found some of her relatives and was curious if we had anything like that in our family.”

  “Oh, you had me worried there for a minute.”

  “Would that be such a bad thing? Or is it because psychics are considered crazy?.”

  “It’s not something I’d ever considered in regards to our family or you. I don’t have anything against it, but it’s not something I really thought was really true. I thought as a cop you’d want things you could see in black and white.”

  “Me too. There’s just something extra there that might be a sort of ESP. I don’t know, it’s a feeling I can’t quite explain. Would you still love me?”

  “Love you? Of course, baby. That you might speak to dead people could never change who you are or how I feel about you.”

  “Thank you. It’s probably just a feeling anyway.”

  “If I can think of anything more about your original killer, I’ll let you know. You get some rest. I love you, no matter what.”

  “Bye, Mom.” I hung up, not really sure that I’d figured anything out. What I really needed was some time to think this through. I started to close my laptop—wait, was that date right?

  We were five days into the month, but nothing had happened yet.

  Maybe I should answer some emails or text messages. The zodiac killer might have hit, but I’d been too busy wallowing in my own self-pity.

  The guys had been texting me updates, but so far nothing fit the profiles.

  I took a deep breath to help calm my nerves. While I was sitting with my laptop open, I might as well do a little research on psychics.

  “First, you must put the witch in the water. If she floats to the top, then she is indeed a witch,” I muttered. “Well, that’s out.”

  I scrolled through a few and jotted down the most important points to remember.

  Vibes or energy when you walk in a room or meet someone.

  You can see orbs or shadows around a person.

  Babies and animals are drawn to you.

  You can feel spirits in the room.

  Dreams come true, or you see things in your dreams that have some meaning in reality.

  Now, I was going to have to find a way to try these out. Maybe Flora had guidelines or a way to determine if I was a sensitive.

  She didn’t know about Jerome yet, unless she’d seen something and hadn’t told me.

  Back down into the dumps I flew again. He’d seemed so nice, but there had been a whole other layer hiding underneath. Were there guys out there who weren’t all creepy or stalkery that could be committed to one woman?

  Of course that hadn’t been Jerome’s problem, but again, he hadn’t understood why I needed to do my job. The light came on as I started to process what had been running through my mind for the past few days.

  I was a cop through and through. Even though I could sympathize or understand a killer’s motives, I would still land on the side of justice. Helping people, even if I didn’t get to save them, did make a difference. I just didn’t get to see it all the time, but if I saved even one life, then I was doing my job.

  Relieved and refocused, I called Flora.

  “Can we meet and do some tests on me to see if I’m actually psychic?”

  “Yeah, but don’t be surprised if the first test doesn’t say what you want it to,” Flora warned. “While you’re open to things, some stuff doesn’t show up for years as you build the muscles. Are sure that this is the direction you want to go in?”

  “Well, according to the internet, I can either do this with you, or I can jump in a lake and hope I don’t float, which would mean I’m a witch. I don’t prefer that option,” I joked with her.

  “Ha-ha. Yeah, don’t believe everything you read on the internet.” Flora’s laugh sounded like sunshine in the dark cave I’d built in my house.

  “I need to get out and let my depression fade while I’m gone.” I looked around at the laundry piled wherever I’d taken it off, to the empty takeout containers that were overflowing in the trash can. “I also need to call a cleaning service to come in and make my house smell lemon fresh.”

  “Then it’s decided. You should come over, spend the
night, and we’ll see where the evening takes us,” Flora offered with enthusiasm.

  “Great. Give me about an hour to shower and I’ll head over.”

  Chapter 3

  Flora

  This session with Leslie was going to be difficult because I’d never done something like this before. I lit a few candles for encouraged peace and happiness.

  Nervousness wasn’t normally something I felt, but I found myself pacing as the time drew closer to her arrival.

  Everything in the room went dark, and I barely had time to clutch the wall before the vision pulled me into the past.

  We were surrounded by trees, and I was so excited to spend time with my boyfriend. “Hey, silly, why do you have that mask on? Take it off, I don’t like clowns.”

  I shoved him away, but he pulled me back toward him. The cold blade of the knife bit into my skin and I stopped struggling. A little girl stood with a Frisbee in her hands, watching us.

  He spun me around, the knife never leaving his hand, breaking the skin as he pushed it deeper into my throat. I fell to my knees, clutching my throat. I tried to scream, but no sound came out.

  I came to, to find Leslie standing there in front of me, waving a hand in front of my face.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, worried.

  “I’m sorry, a vision took over.” I moved carefully to the chair and sank into the cushions. “It was the death of a woman by a man in a clown mask. There was a little girl that witnessed it. Was that when you became a sensitive?”

  Leslie’s face turned white. “I’m not sure. How did you know about that?”

  “That was the vision I just witnessed. It must have been so strong that you projected it onto me as you arrived.” I lifted a hand shakily.

  “Where’s that tea you always have around?” Leslie joked.