My Blue Nightmare

by

Kelly Miller

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are

either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual

persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

No part of this work may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any

form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without

written permission by Kelly Miller.

© 2016 by Kelly Miller

contactkelly@kellymillerauthor.com

www.kellymillerauthor.com

Other Books by Kelly Miller

Dead Like Me

Deadly Fantasies

Splintered

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I want to thank everyone who assisted in helping me bring this novelette to life. It is the first of

many, and I couldn’t have done it without each and every one of you. I’d like to specifically

point out:

Katrina Worford for suggesting the name Luella Norwood in my 3rd

Annual Name a Character

contest. Congratulations, Katrina!

A big thanks goes out to my beta readers for helping fix the plot holes and for their invaluable

suggestions: Jennifer Lynn Brown, Alison Goins, Lori Kraus, Bridget Mcguire, and Lisa Vogt.

My family for giving me the time and space to write. And especially my daughter for working

out the plot with me on a rainy Tuesday afternoon.

My cover designer, Ida Jansson of AMYGDALA DESIGN, for creating the fantastic book cover

that will be the basis for each of the stories in the My Nightmare Series.

My editor, Cynthia Shepp, for correcting my grammar and punctuation mistakes.

And as always, God, for blessing me with this wonderful gift of storytelling.

This book is dedicated to my precious daughter, Emily Miller,

who was the sounding board for this story. We collaborated together,

creating and shaping the idea until there was a fully

fleshed-out story. Her help was invaluable and just

the motivation I needed to start writing again.

CHAPTER 1

“You don’t understand what I’m trying to tell you.” Maggie brushed aside the unwashed

amber strands of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes only to have them flop back the second

she moved her hand away.

“Then help me understand. Explain it one more time from the beginning.”

“I’ve already told you. My father killed my brother and sister, and I’m next. How much

plainer can I be?”

Maggie watched the detective take a deep breath in and slowly let it out. The woman

began counting under her breath. Maggie knew coming to the police station would be a mistake.

The cop sitting in front of her was just one more adult who wouldn’t believe her. But what

choice did she have? With no money, where would she go?

“I only have two days left,” Maggie said with desperation in her voice.

“Right, because you turn sixteen in two days,” Detective Norwood said.

“That’s right.” Maggie leaned forward until the table between them stopped her. “Three

years ago, my father killed my brother. It was a week after he turned sixteen. Then two years

ago, my sister died just a couple of days after her sixteenth birthday. Don’t you see that I may

only have a couple of days left?” Maggie’s despondency turned to anger, and she banged her fist

against the table. “You’re a cop. You have to help me.”

“Hold up a minute. Calm down. Why do you think your dad’s responsible for your

siblings’ deaths?”

Maggie shivered. What could she say that would make this detective grasp the direness of

the situation? Were there even words to describe the person he’d become over the past few

years?

“My father changed after he lost his electrician business. The first couple of months

afterward, he’d shrug off the worried looks, saying a new opportunity was just around the corner.

But when two months turned into eight… well, he seemed to retreat into himself. It was like he

couldn’t catch a break. As if a black cloud followed him everywhere he went. After the business

went under, next it was a car accident, then a break-in, and on and on.”

Detective Norwood stared at her. Skepticism was etched into the woman’s every feature,

but kindness still shone in her green eyes. The windowless room they were in made Maggie

nervous, but she shored up her courage, took a deep breath, and continued.

“My father seemed to morph right in front of me—from a laid-back, happy man into a

depressed, angry tyrant. My brother Luke couldn’t deal with his moods, especially since most of

the time, our father’s rage was directed at him. So he started spending more time away from the

house, staying with any friend who would have him. Uncle Jake suggested my father bring Luke

along on a boy’s camping weekend he had planned. He thought my father could try to heal the

rift between the two of them. But the way they fought, I knew it would be a colossal failure.”

Maggie thought back to the day the two left for the trip and the look on Luke’s face as he

stared at her through the side window of the family’s SUV. He’d run a hand through his tangled

mop of dark hair, a defeated look on his face. But there’d been something else. Hadn’t she also

seen a glint of fear in his eyes as they pulled out of the driveway?

Tears rolled down Maggie’s cheek. “That Friday was the last time I ever saw my brother

alive.”

CHAPTER 2

Detective Luella Norwood stepped outside the interrogation room after Maggie Hamilton

finished her story for a second time. Norwood needed a break and a chance to review everything

she’d heard. Was this girl in imminent danger or was she just angry with an over-protective

father who’d already lost two children and didn’t want to lose a third?

Maggie had explained how “over the top” her father had become after her two siblings

died. How she was now enrolled in virtual school taking classes from home and never allowed

out of her parents’ sight. Norwood couldn’t tell if this was simply a case of a girl rebelling

against two loving parents or if her father was right now plotting another murder scheme.

Although Maggie seemed truly afraid, Norwood’s gut told her to be wary of the girl’s

statement. She seemed purposefully ambiguous about the details surrounding her siblings’

deaths. That was why Norwood was currently sitting at her desk, researching the two days in

question, while Maggie sipped on a Coke in the interrogation room.

Norwood read all the online news surrounding the two deaths. After, she pulled the case

files—the St. Petersburg Police Department had performed the investigations. They had

happened before she’d gotten her promotion and transferred here, so Norwood wasn’t familiar

with them, but Detective Gomez had been assigned to Luke Hamilton’s case and Johnson had

investigated Corrine’s. She knew both men were diligent in their jobs and doubted anything had

slipped by them. It had taken a while to absorb the information she needed, but now that she was

armed with the facts, she was ready to confront Maggie.

***

Detective Norwood stood at the interrogation room doorway with a hand on her hip and a

look of impatience that made the girl squirm in her seat. She walked over to the table and

slammed the two case files down.

“Why did you leave out the fact that your brother died of anaphylactic shock due to

repeated fire ant bites and your sister drowned? Both of these cases were ruled accidental

deaths.”

“No! My father killed them and made it look like accidents.”

Norwood let out a long sigh. She felt for Maggie. Lord knew she could empathize with

the girl, but that was the only reason she’d let this situation get as far as it had. Norwood didn’t

have time to waste arguing about two closed cases when she had a stack of open ones on her

desk that needed her attention.

“I’m sorry, Maggie, but you’re wrong.” Norwood sat in the chair facing the girl.

“According to eyewitness statements at the campsite, and there were five men and seven boys

there that weekend, your brother got angry at your dad and stormed off. The witnesses stated that

when Luke didn’t come back after approximately thirty minutes, everyone split up to look for

him. He must have unknowingly stumbled into a fire ant hill in the woods. Because of his allergy

to their bites, he died. Maybe something could have been done had he been found earlier, but he

was gone once they discovered his body. I’m sorry.”

“No. My father orchestrated the whole thing. Everyone knew that Luke was allergic to

insect bites. He’s carried an EpiPen since he was ten years old. He never went anywhere without

it.”

“There was no mention in the file of an EpiPen found by the body.”

“That’s because my dad must have taken it.”

“Have you ever thought that your brother simply forgot to take it with him?”

A smug look crossed Maggie’s face. “No, Detective. Because I was the one who ran out

to the car to give it to him before they drove off.”

“That only proves my point about the forgetfulness of a sixteen-year-old boy. Just

because he brought it doesn’t mean he had it in his pocket. He could have left it in the tent, or,

heck, even in the car, putting it in a cup holder after you handed it to him.”

Maggie looked crestfallen at the rebuttal. Norwood reminded herself to be patient—that

the girl had lost both of her siblings in the span of fifteen months. No matter the reason for their

deaths, it had obviously caused her a great deal of grief and stress. Even so, Norwood had to shut

this down now. “And your sister… she was at the beach. She ventured out a little too far from

shore and a rip current pulled her under. There were no lifeguards. Your father jumped in the

ocean and pulled her back to shore. He was performing CPR on her when EMTs arrived.”

“No, that’s not right. That’s not what happened.”

“It says so right here.” Norwood pointed at Corrine’s case file, but Maggie kept shaking

her head. Norwood opened the file to the statements of the eyewitnesses at the beach during the

accident. She tapped her finger on the paper until Maggie’s attention was drawn toward it.

Maggie grabbed the file and began reading. “There’s no way. It couldn’t have happened

like that.” But the words were a mere mumble. It sounded like doubt had wormed its way in.

The girl looked up at her, tears glistening in her eyes. “My father had planned to take the

whole family to the beach for Corrine’s birthday, but then I came down with a fever. Mom

suggested we postpone, but Dad said with school starting in a week, if they didn’t go that day,

they’d have to wait until next summer. I was so angry. Angry with Dad for leaving me home,

angry with Corrine for the cocky look she flashed when she found out the trip wasn’t cancelled,

and angry with Mom even though she stayed home to take care of me.”

Maggie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Tears now dried, her mood seemed to

shift to a slow burn. Norwood wondered if this was an example of the teenage mood swings her

sister was always complaining about or if something medical was at the root of it. Maybe

Maggie showing up at the police station to accuse her father of murder was from paranoia caused

by a psychological condition.

“The trip was my father’s chance,” Maggie said. “He finally had Corrine all to himself.

He took her to the beach and drowned her.”

“No, Maggie, he didn’t. You just read the file. More than one eyewitness said that your

father was sitting on the beach when Corrine went under. He couldn’t have been responsible.”

Norwood took another long breath, looking at her watch. Afternoon had turned into early

evening. “It’s time we get you home. I’m sure your parents are worried sick.”

“They’ll just think I have a bad case of the Mr. Blues,” Maggie mumbled to herself.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Forget it.”

Norwood stood, but then she paused before fully pushing her chair under the table. “Wait

a minute. You said you were homeschooled and that your parents never let you out of their sight.

How did you get to the station?”

Maggie bolted up. Her chair scraped across the floor with a screech. “No! I won’t go

back to that house. That prison. You can’t make me.”

“Calm down.”

The girl started pacing. She looked like a caged animal looking for an escape route.

Norwood knew this behavior wasn’t normal. Under the law, she was required to return Maggie

to her parents, but that didn’t mean Norwood couldn’t get a good look around the girl’s house

first. She had to make sure she was dropping her off in a safe environment.

Norwood walked around the table and lightly placed her hands on the girl’s shoulders,

halting her movement. “How about we go back to your house, and I can check it out for myself?

I’m a trained investigator, Maggie. I’ll have a look around and talk with your parents. If I feel

you’re in danger, any danger at all, I won’t make you stay. How’s that sound?”

Maggie looked unsure, but Norwood took the moment of hesitancy and gently led the girl

by the arm out of the interrogation room. She caught their reflection in the mirrored glass. The

girl looked so small and helpless, seemingly resigned to the knowledge that no one could save

her. That old, familiar tug pulled at Detective Norwood, and she knew there’d be no quick

resolution. In for a penny, in for a pound, she could hear her mom saying. There was no way

Norwood could turn her back on this kid. Not now.

CHAPTER 3

Norwood pulled her old Toyota into the driveway of a two-story house jam-packed into a

neighborhood where all the houses were painted various shades of beige. She had tried to engage

Maggie in conversation on the way home, but the girl had sat sullen in the passenger seat and

looked out the window the entire ride.

Norwood unclipped her seatbelt and opened the car door. “Ready?”

Maggie sat unmoving, staring at the house. When she turned toward Norwood, a look of

terror was on the girl’s face.

“Come on,” Norwood gently prodded. “Follow me. I’ll go first.” She smiled, hoping to

assuage some of Maggie’s anxiety.

Norwood walked up the sidewalk. She could feel Maggie’s presence following close

behind. Norwood gave three firm raps on the front door.

A disheveled woman answered. Her ash-brown hair was trying to escape the loose bun on

top of her head. A yellowish stain marked the pocket on her floral-print shirt.

“Mrs. Hamilton?”

“Yes?” She answered, seemingly unsure of her own name.

“I’m Detective Luella Norwood. May I come in for a moment?”

A look of confusion crossed her face. “Why?”

Norwood half turned her body, revealing Maggie standing behind her.

“Oh my goodness. You found her. Maggie, where have you been?” Sara Hamilton

reached her hand out to her daughter, but the waves of anger coming off the girl caused the

mother to retreat.

“May I come in, ma’am?”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

Sara Hamilton turned. Detective Norwood and Maggie followed her through the foyer

into the living room.

“Please, have a seat.” Sara gestured to the couch but then quickly walked ahead of them,

picking up the clothing items draped over it. Shrugging, she gave a self-deprecating smile.

The furnishings looked expensive, or at least Norwood figured they had at one time.

Now, they all seemed to have that lived-in look as if the family had given up the pretense of

keeping up with the Jones’. Or maybe after life had bulldozed them over one too many times,

they simply didn’t care about the general upkeep of the place.

Sara Hamilton stood behind the back of an armchair, facing Norwood and Maggie, who

sat next to each other on the couch.

“Where did you find our daughter, Detective?”

Before Norwood could answer, Sara asked Maggie, “How could you do that to us? Sneak

out? Leave without a word? Do you know how worried we’ve been?”

Norwood mulled over Sara’s response. It seemed like a normal one considering the hell

the woman had been through the last year and a half. She seemed genuinely worried and

expressed it without showing any kind of violent temper.

“Maggie showed up at the police station this afternoon—” Norwood began, but she was

interrupted by a voice coming from the other room.

“Sara. Who was at the door?”

A man barreled into the living room. Norwood felt the tension in the air ratchet up.

Maggie’s attitude transformed from rebellious anger into nervous apprehension. Norwood

looked over at Sara Hamilton. She had changed into a skittish woman sputtering to explain

Norwood’s presence in the house.

“Damn it, woman. Just spit it out.”

Norwood took that as her cue and stood, extending her hand to Frank Hamilton. After an

introduction, she asked if she could talk to both him and his wife about Maggie. They agreed,

and Norwood said, “This afternoon, your daughter came into the police station and spoke to me

at length about her siblings recent deaths. As I understand, they died shortly after their sixteenth

birthday. With Maggie’s birthday right around the corner, I think it has triggered something

that’s made her feel the need to reach out and talk to someone.”

“But Luke and Corrine’s deaths were accidents.” Frank sat down in the armchair in front

of his wife. He was a big bear of a man with a dark beard that needed a good trimming.

Norwood thought it interesting that he hadn’t yet directly acknowledged his daughter.

“Why do you keep Maggie so sheltered?” she asked. Norwood cringed at her rookie mistake,

realizing it wasn’t the best phrasing, and added, “You homeschool her, right?”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Frank said, “but yes, she takes online classes. The

public school system is a mess. Why would I want to send my daughter to school with all the

shootings going on these days? You heard about Columbine, Sandy Hook. No thank you. I’ll

keep her home where she’s safe.”

“And as I understand, you only let her out of the house under your direct supervision.”

“You never let me see my friends!” Maggie said, suddenly jumping into the conversation.

Norwood reassuringly patted the girl’s hand.

Sara let out a nervous laughter. “Don’t be silly, darling. You know your friends are

always welcome here.”

Frank narrowed his eyes. “What exactly has she been saying, Detective?”

Norwood noticed a vein throbbing in the man’s temple and his muscular arms seemed

tensed, ready for a fight. She fought the urge to squirm under his intense stare. Her mother had

that same look when she was growing up, and her questionings were far worse than any cross-

examination she’d ever endured in court.

“Maggie is afraid—” Norwood started.

“Afraid? That’s exactly my point.” Frank stood up. “She shouldn’t be leaving the house

by herself. Who knows what could happen out there.”

“That’s true,” Sara added. Her hand fluttered around her neck. “She could fall, get run

over, poisoned, electrocuted… there are so many ways a young girl could end up dead.”

Norwood listened to the mumblings of Mrs. Hamilton. She wondered if the woman had

even known she was speaking out loud. She seemed to be rambling off a list of Top Ten Ways to

Die. This family was just flat-out weird.

“If you’d let me finish, Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton. Maggie is afraid that her siblings’ deaths

weren’t accidental.” Frank got ready to interrupt again, but, before he could, Norwood said,

“And whether they were or weren’t doesn’t matter because in Maggie’s mind, she’s convinced

that she’s next on the list.”

Norwood didn’t want to come right out and tell Frank Hamilton that his daughter accused

him of killing his two children. She didn’t think accusations would do anything other than add

fuel to an already-heated argument. That was one of the reasons she remained seated. Hopefully,

her posture would help keep things from getting adversarial.

After letting her last statement sink in, Norwood spoke directly to Frank. “You and your

family have been under a great deal of pressure coping with the loss of two children. Add in your

recent financial worries and it’s enough to push any parent over the edge. Have any of you seen a

therapist to help get through this tough time?”

“We don’t need some head doctor.” Frank practically spat out the words. “We’re a

family, and we can get through this together.”

“But Maggie feels unsafe at home. That’s why she left. She reached out in obvious need.

I’m concerned about leaving her here without having a plan of action in place.”

“I know what is best for my daughter, Detective. Don’t tell me how to be a father or how

to do my job!”

Maggie bolted up off the couch. “See, he won’t listen. He’s completely unreasonable. I

won’t stay here.”

“You will stay here and that’s final. You’re acting like some spoiled, ungrateful little—”

“Sir, there’s no need to go there. Don’t say anything you’ll later regret. You know,

sometimes in situations like these, ones where there’s been a lot of upheaval in the family, well,

sometimes it’s best if there’s some separation. A little time away from each other so that

everyone can get their emotions in check and decide where to go from here. Is there anyone that

Maggie might be able to stay with, just for a couple of days? A family member who lives close

by?”

“No.”

“What about Uncle Hamilton?” Maggie said.

“You’re not staying anywhere other than right here where your mother and I can keep an

eye on you.”

“Whose brother is this?” Norwood asked, looking at Frank and then Sarah.

“Mine,” Frank begrudgingly admitted. “But a single man’s house is no place for a fifteen-

year-old girl to stay.”

“Stop it, Dad. You make him sound like some pervert. He and Aunt Jen were married

forever. They only split up a few years ago. It makes me sad to think of him all alone. And it

would only be for a couple of days.”

“Mr. Hamilton, are you and your brother on good terms?”

Frank shrugged. “We hadn’t been very close for years, but since Luke and Corrine died,

he’s been very supportive.”

“Then, if your brother’s willing, why not let Maggie stay at his house through the end of

the week?” Norwood could tell from the look on Frank’s face that she better get her pitch out

quickly before he shut her down. “In the meantime, I can put you in contact with a family

counselor. If you’re worried about the cost, don’t be. There are free services available through

the city. I can tell you have a bad taste for psychiatrists, but I’m not comfortable leaving this

family like it is now. Your daughter is at a very impressionable age. Even if you don’t want to

attend sessions, I think it’s vital for her psyche to let her talk to someone. You do care about

Maggie’s emotional well-being, don’t you, Mr. Hamilton?”

Norwood needed Maggie evaluated by a professional to see if her paranoia was due to a

psychological condition or if it was a result of her turbulent family life. The results would help

Norwood make a decision about what to do next.

Frank stomped off to the kitchen. Norwood thought she’d lost him and wondered what

else she could do when she heard him say, “Jake, I need to talk to you. Would you mind if

Maggie bunked at your house for a couple of days?”

CHAPTER 4

“Thank you, Detective. For everything. I really mean it.” Maggie stood at the open front

door to her Uncle Jake’s house. She looked out at Detective Norwood, who still seemed hesitant

to leave.

“You have my card right?”

Maggie nodded.

“It has my cell number written on the back, so call me anytime. I’ll follow up with your

father tomorrow. See if I can’t get the ball rolling on counseling for both you and your family.”

“I’m sorry I’ve taken up so much of your time today. But I really appreciate all the help.”

Norwood nodded. She smoothed the couple of stray hairs back into the fold and tightened

the ponytail holder keeping her long mane of auburn hair away from her face. “Your uncle seems

like a good man. We had a talk while you were having a snack, and I think you’re in good

hands.”

Maggie watched the woman walk back to her car. She gave her a quick wave as Norwood

pulled out of the drive. A rush of relief washed over Maggie, knowing she now had an ally in

this fight. But who was the fight against? She’d convinced herself her father was the enemy, but

after reading the case files on her siblings’ deaths, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

Maybe she was losing it? Had her father’s erratic behavior combined with the fact that

she’d been given so few details about Luke and Corrine’s death created the mistrust in her?

She’d gotten lucky today that Detective Norwood had been the one to talk to her at the station.

Instead of instantly discounting Maggie because of her teenage status as most adults did, she’d

sat down and talked with her—not at her. Reading the eyewitness statements had helped bring a

new clarity.

Yet, was she really ready to cast down her suspicions of her father? Making the wrong

decision could be costly with a price tag of her life. Maggie just didn’t know. She was confused

about what to think. But she was glad to have a little breathing room. The oppressive emotions

that lay over the Hamilton house felt like a wet blanket that made every thought and movement a

struggle. She seemed lighter here at Uncle Jake’s.

“Maggie, why are you still standing at the door?”

Maggie jumped, startled at not being aware of her uncle behind her. She’d been so lost in

thought that she hadn’t noticed his presence. There were only two days left until her birthday.

She had to be mindful of her surroundings at all times. Just in case.

***

“Thanks again, Uncle Jake, for letting me stay. I promise I won’t be any trouble.”

“Nonsense. I’m glad to have you. We don’t get to spend near enough time together. Why

don’t you follow me and I’ll show you to the guest room so you can get settled?”

Uncle Jake grabbed Maggie’s rolling suitcase while she carried her pillow and computer

bag. She’d brought her laptop along so that she could stay up to date with her schoolwork.

As Maggie climbed the stairs behind Uncle Jake, she noticed the limp in his right leg was

more pronounced. Maybe it was harder going up. She remembered the family cookout when

Luke had asked him about the cause of his limp. Uncle Jake had explained how he and his

brother had been racing four-wheelers when they were younger. He accused Frank of running

him into a tree. This enraged their dad, who had insisted Jake crashed because he couldn’t stand

to lose to his older brother. That it was Jake’s own fault because he’d been driving recklessly to

try to beat Frank to the finish line.

Even at a young age, Maggie knew all the empty beer cans scattered around the backyard

picnic table had escalated the fight faster than normal. Her mom and Aunt Jen had to separate the

two men before it turned violent.

Uncle Jake heaved the suitcase on top of the bed. “What’d you do—pack your whole

closet?”

Maggie blushed. She knew she’d brought along more than what was needed for only a

couple of nights, but when she had started gathering her things at home, she couldn’t help but

wish the stay would last longer. Before she knew it, she had to sit on her suitcase to get it closed.

“I would’ve been happy to carry it up myself.” Maggie looked down at Uncle Jake’s leg.

“I don’t need help,” he said in a harsh tone. “I’m not a cripple.”

The brief burst of anger transformed his features, and she could see her father’s face.

They looked a lot alike. Although her father had a beard and Uncle Jake only had a day’s worth

of whiskers, they both had dark hair with a slight wave to it and intense eyes that made you think

they could see into your darkest recesses.

“Sorry, Maggie. Sensitive subject.” Uncle Jake flashed an inviting smile, instantly

calming her. “I don’t have any drawer space, but you’re free to hang up your clothes in the

closet.” He slid open each of the double doors and grabbed some hangers off the rod. When he

turned back to Maggie, he kicked something in the closet. A metallic clang sounded.

“Whoops.”

Maggie saw that he had banged two scuba tanks together. “That’s right. You scuba dive,

don’t you?”

“Sure do. It’s one of the best things about living in Florida. I haven’t gone out in a while,

but I keep meaning to. Sorry about the tanks. I keep them up here because of the extra space. It’s

also a cool temperature for storing them.”

“No problem. They won’t be in the way.”

Uncle Jake walked to the door, but then he turned around. “You mentioned before that

you wanted to learn how to scuba dive. Are you still interested?”

“Totally.”

“Well, maybe if you’re here for more than a couple of days, we can start some lessons.

That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, would it? I mean, staying here longer?”

Maggie kept the tears trying to force their way to the surface at bay. She simply smiled

and nodded, afraid her voice would betray her. No indeed, that would not be the worst thing in

the world.

CHAPTER 5

Luella Norwood sat on her couch with a glass of wine and Luke Hamilton’s case file

draped over her lap. By the time she’d dropped Maggie off at her uncle’s house, it was too late to

jump back into any of her open cases. So she figured she would head home, get some extra sleep,

and start up again early in the morning. But instead of snuggling underneath her covers, she was

still wide awake, looking at crime scene photos.

Something in them had her unsettled. It wasn’t anything she could easily describe. Just a

niggling in the back of her brain that told her the puzzle was incomplete. She had lots of pieces

floating around in her mind, but it was just a matter of fitting them together in the proper order to

see what the picture would be.

Norwood didn’t know what she was looking for in the photos, but she felt if she just kept

searching, she would find something. That was why she’d finished off her first glass of wine and

poured a second, still scanning the pictures to see what she’d missed.

She took a sip and let her mind wander back over the day. Maggie Hamilton was

troubled, but Norwood didn’t know whether the cause was environmental due to her family’s

circumstances or genetic because the girl was simply a head case.

Norwood thought back to her own personal low point in childhood when someone had

believed in her, had gone the extra mile, and had gotten her the help she needed. She was only

fourteen when she ended up in a serious case of hot water—caught burglarizing her neighbor’s

house. She’d tried acting tough with the case detective, but the guy would have none of it. He

saw right through her act. He’d saved Norwood’s future because he cared enough to find out

what was at the root of her behavior, rather than throw her down the line to the court-appointed

lawyer. Eventually, the detective made her feel safe enough to disclose that her mom had been

using her as a punching bag. For months prior to being caught, her mom had forced Norwood to

break into houses to steal meds, booze, and other stuff they could pawn.

Norwood knew it was time to pay that detective’s kindness forward to Maggie Hamilton.

Sometimes a detective’s job wasn’t just cleaning up the mess after the crime happened. At least

Norwood didn’t think it should be. Occasionally, a cop had to step in to make sure a crime

wasn’t committed. It was a philosophy she had lived by her entire career. It might make her days

more complicated, but saving a life—either physically or emotionally—was something she could

hang her hat on at the end of the day.

CHAPTER 6

Norwood hadn’t slept much. And the little sleep she did get seemed fractured due to her

subconscious and conscious duking it out all night. When she woke up in the morning, she

wasn’t any closer to figuring out the missing pieces of the puzzle. But once she stepped into the

shower—the best place for inspiration—the words Maggie had mumbled at the station, “Mr.

Blue,” popped into her head.

Norwood couldn’t shake the feeling that it was important. An urgency swept over her.

She hurriedly washed and conditioned her thick hair. Barely taking the time to dry off, she

tucked a towel around her and left a dripping water trail all the way to the front room.

“Mr. Blue. Mr. Blue. Mr. Blue,” she repeated out loud to an empty room. “Where did I

see that?”

Norwood pushed around the crime scene photos on the end table, some haphazardly

falling onto the carpet, until she found the one she wanted. Picking it up, she studied the picture.

It was a wide shot of the woods surrounding the location Luke Hamilton had been found.

Norwood grabbed her phone and opened the magnifying glass app.

“Ah-ha. Mr. Blue.”

On a tree, nearly out of the frame, was the shape of a crude heart etched into the bark. But

instead of initials inscribed by a couple of lovebirds, there were the words Mr. Blue. Norwood

grabbed Corrine Hamilton’s case file. She painstakingly looked at each photo, searching for

evidence of a matching heart. Nothing definite stood out, but it didn’t mean Mr. Blue hadn’t also

tagged the beach. Maybe he drew it in the sand and the EMTs had erased it after rushing to

Corrine’s side. Norwood didn’t know what the marking meant. If it was the missing piece, or if it

was even meaningful to the case, she wasn’t certain, but the adrenaline rush coursing through her

body told her it had potential.

CHAPTER 7

Maggie sat propped up against the bed’s headboard with her knees bent, typing on her

computer. It may have been a Saturday, but trigonometry theorems were kicking her ass this year

and getting behind was the kiss of death. She was trying to focus on the sample equations on her

screen, but the homework couldn’t hold her attention.

When she heard a knock at the door, she welcomed the reprieve. “Come in.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were busy.” Uncle Jake was dressed in jeans and a

blue polo with his beloved college football team’s gator insignia on it. “I just thought you might

need a break. Want to ruin lunch by skipping right to dessert?”

“That sounds heavenly. I can’t seem to concentrate anyway. Maybe some fresh air would

do me good. Haven’t gotten a lot of that lately.”

Uncle Jake sat on the end of the bed and patted Maggie’s foot. “I’m sorry things have

been so tough for you at home. I wish you’d told me. Your dad and I may not always see eye to

eye, but I can’t help thinking I might’ve been able to intervene in some way. I hate to see you so

unhappy.”

Maggie shook her head, unable to say the words she wanted. What was wrong with her

lately? It seemed every nice gesture shown to her threatened to start up the waterworks.

Saving her from embarrassing herself, Uncle Jake said, “Come on. Let me take you to my

favorite ice cream shop.”

CHAPTER 8

“Thanks for coming in, Mr. Hamilton.” Detective Norwood shook Frank’s hand and led

him back to a chair sitting next to the end of her work desk. She wanted to keep this meeting

conversational, but having already glimpsed his temper the previous evening, she thought it best

to talk to him at the station.

Sitting forward in his chair with hands on his knees, Frank’s body language read

adversarial. Norwood decided to start with a light touch, hoping to ease his tension. “I want to

thank you for agreeing to let Maggie stay with your brother for a few days.”

“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for her. Maggie’s had a tough time since her brother and

sister died. I can see now that maybe the approach we took to keep her safe hurt more than it

helped.”

Norwood was surprised by his confession. But still suspicious. Was he trying to play her,

to say what he thought she wanted to hear? Or had Frank Hamilton finally seen the pain in his

daughter’s eyes and realized she needed help?

“I was surprised Maggie showed up at the station all by herself,” Norwood said. “That

took real courage. This can be an intimidating place.”

Frank sat back in his chair. “My Maggie’s always been a tough cookie. In the eighth

grade, she gave a boy a black eye when he got a little too touchy-feely.”

Norwood watched him smile at the memory. The jagged, one-inch scar above his upper

lip bobbed.

The smile faded. “But ever since Luke and Corrine passed away, she’s been rebellious.

Recently… well, kind of paranoid too. Last week, my wife changed the sheets in her room and

found a steak knife hidden under the mattress. When we pushed Maggie about it, she finally

admitted to stealing it from the kitchen. She said she needed it for protection. That she was

almost sixteen and she was the next to die. Sara and I thought we could handle her behavior

ourselves, but if Maggie’s gotten to the point where she’s dragging others into her delusions,

then like it or not, maybe it’s time to get some professional help for the girl.”

Frank’s heartfelt words struck a chord in Norwood. She could see that he loved his

daughter and wanted what was best for her. Maybe this was simply a case of a misguided parent

making the wrong choice. Lord knew Norwood had plenty of experience seeing that firsthand—

both personally and professionally.

More and more, it seemed Maggie’s problem stemmed from a psychological disorder, not

a boogeyman waiting for a date on a calendar to arrive. Still, Norwood put her other cases on

hold and went to all the trouble to get Frank Hamilton there. Time to stick with the original plan.

She decided to switch gears and discuss his son’s death.

“Mr. Hamilton, can you tell me about the night your son died?”

“How does that have any bearing on Maggie’s situation?”

Shocked at Frank’s statement, Norwood worked to hide her reaction. “Everything, sir. If

Maggie is truly suffering from delusions as you say, it all stems from her brother and sister’s

deaths. I know you were probably only trying to shield Maggie from the harsh reality of their

deaths, but not providing her with all the details has allowed her mind to fill in the missing

blanks. And whether that information is true or not, it’s firmly implanted into her psyche now.

She truly believes Luke and Corrine were murdered and that she’s going to be the next victim.

I’ve read both your children’s case files, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to hear from you what

happened.”

Frank let out a deep sigh, a noise that expressed all the bone-tired exhaustion of his life.

“The last few months that Luke was alive, it seemed like whenever he and I were in the same

room, heated words were exchanged. A few times, it almost came to blows. I know I’m the adult

and should’ve taken the high road, but I’m embarrassed to say I didn’t handle all the curveballs

life had thrown at me. My brother knew I was going through some hard times with the boy and

suggested we come out on a camping trip he had planned with some of his other buddies and

their sons.

“I was pretty sure a different zip code wouldn’t make any difference to our relationship,

but Jake thought some R & R with a fishing pole would help grease the wheels of

communication.” Frank shook his head. “About what I figured happened. We were all sitting

around the campfire after cooking up the fish we’d caught that afternoon. I said something—who

knows what now—that set Luke off. He just up and walked off. Headed into the woods. I was

too busy fuming to notice how long he’d been gone, but one of the guys mentioned it. We all

went looking for him.”

“The body was discovered deep in the woods,” Norwood said. “Who found him?”

“One of the boys in our group. Shook him up real bad. We figured Luke must’ve been so

angry, he got turned around and went the opposite way of camp.”

“What about Luke’s EpiPen?”

Frank brushed a hurried hand over his moist eyes. “Dumb kid. He must’ve forgotten it at

home.”

Norwood cocked her head to the side. “Maggie told me she ran out to the SUV and gave

the EpiPen to Luke before you guys left for the weekend. Don’t you remember that?”

Frank shook his head. “Well, the cops didn’t find it on him, and I don’t remember ever

seeing it when I packed up. But I was pretty out of it. The only thing on my mind was how to tell

Sara that her only son had died.”

Norwood let Frank have a second before asking, “Can you tell me who Mr. Blue is?”

Frank looked up from his lap, his brow wrinkled. “Mr. Blue?”

“Yes. Who is that?”

“It’s not a who, Detective. It’s just a stupid saying we have in our family.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know when you get down in the dumps you say, ‘I’ve got the blues.’ In my family,

we say, ‘Mr. Blue’s come for a visit.’”

“If that’s true, it seems like an odd coincidence.”

Frank impatiently sighed. “What does?”

Norwood opened Luke Hamilton’s case file and pulled out the top crime scene photo.

“That the words Mr. Blue were etched into the bark of a tree right next to the spot where your

son died.”

Norwood watched Frank’s expression of confusion change to curiosity. He grabbed the

photo, bringing it in for a closer look. When he let it drop back to the table, his eyes were wide.

“No. It couldn’t be.”

CHAPTER 9

“You’re right, Uncle Jake. This is the best chocolate mint ice cream I’ve ever had.

Thanks.” Maggie took another lick of the sweet treat stacked high inside her waffle cone.

Uncle Jake opened the door for her and bowed in a silly, gentlemanly way. She giggled

and curtsied back. The anxiety she’d been carrying around like lead weights seemed to drop one

by one as she walked outside into the warm air. She lifted her face to the sun and breathed in,

calming her tense muscles even more. The light breeze blew wisps of stray hairs into her face

that tickled her cheeks.

“This is the best day ever. I hope it never ends.”

“Well, if you’re in no hurry to head home, then let me show you around to some of my

favorite places. If you promise to keep it a secret, I’ll even let you in on one of the best locations

in all of St. Pete to watch a sunset. What do you say?”

“Hmm, as tempting as it is spending the rest of the afternoon working on my

Trigonometry homework, I think you’ve got yourself a deal.” Maggie giggled and skipped

ahead. She twirled in circles and then took a few bites of her ice cream. If felt like she was a kid

again.

Uncle Jake caught up and told Maggie about a park not too far away. He usually visited

with a book in hand and watched the world stroll by.

“You ever play Would You Rather, Uncle Jake?”

“No, I haven’t heard of that one. How do you play?” He dribbled a bit of ice cream on his

chin and used his napkin to wipe it up.

“I ask questions like, ‘Would you rather drink tea or coffee,’ and you answer with which

one you like better and why.”

“Seems simple enough.”

“Yeah, I used to play it with my friends all the time. It’s a great way to really get to know

someone.” The memory of happier times gripped Maggie’s heart like a vice and squeezed. What

she wouldn’t give to rewind the years and become young again. No worries… no understanding

of how cruel the world could be.

Uncle Jake gave her elbow a little nudge. “Coffee, definitely. I’m a growly bear before

my first morning cup.” He added a growl that was supposed to come off as ferocious but only

sounded pathetic.

“You call that a roar? Come on, Uncle Jake. You can be scarier than that.”

He laughed. “I’ll work on it.”

Maggie thought Uncle Jake must have had one too many cups of his favorite drink this

morning. He seemed more amped up than usual, like his speed setting was set a notch higher.

“Okay, so would you rather lose your hearing or your sight?”

He thought a moment and then answered. “Hearing. I would hate to lose the ability to see

all the beauty in the world. Like today with this sky the color of a robin’s egg. Just one big

canvas of blue. It’s a magnificent day. So many possibilities.”

Maggie couldn’t disagree. She was enjoying the weather while they strolled through the

park. “Would you rather lose an arm or a leg?”

“Getting kind of morbid, aren’t you, Maggie? Geesh. I’d have to say an arm. If I had two

legs, I could still wear my flippers and maneuver when diving. It’d be harder to swim with only

one arm, but I could probably make it work.”

“A lighter topic, huh? How about… would you rather have the super power of flying or

reading minds?”

“Neither,” he answered, his voice thick. “I’d rather have the super power of turning back

time.” The smile seemed to seep off Uncle Jake’s face. Like some kind of slow motion invisible

hand had moved the muscles downward.

Maggie tried to lighten the mood but only rambled. “Oh, you mean like in that old

Superman movie where he flies backward around the world over and over at lightning speed and

turns back time to save Lois Lane from the earthquake?”

She didn’t notice Uncle Jake’s distant expression when she added, “But that seems like

such a cop out by the writers. I mean, if Superman had that power the whole time, why didn’t he

just use it every time something bad happened with Lex Luther? It’s just…”

Uncle Jake started murmuring to himself. She quieted, trying to hear what he was saying,

but she only got snippets. Something about how the accident ruined his whole life. How Jennifer

would never have left him if it hadn’t happened. Maggie didn’t know what he was talking about,

but she scolded herself for being so stupid. Why’d she have to bring up a question that reminded

him of Aunt Jen? They were having such a nice time, and now he would probably cancel the rest

of their day out.

She tried to think of another question, to quickly change the subject, but her mind

blanked. Then she snapped her fingers as one finally came to her.

“I’ve got a good one, Uncle Jake. Would you rather watch a sunrise or a sunset?”

He seemed to take another moment with his mumbling. Almost imperceptibly, he shook

his head and finally said, “Definitely a sunset. Sunrises come way too early in the morning, don’t

you think?”

Maggie was surprised at his upbeat tone, but she didn’t question it. She was just happy

that he’d snapped out of what could have been a serious buzz kill.

“You’re right about that. Speaking of sunsets, where is this great place we’re going that

gives us a front-row seat to tonight’s sunset?”

“I don’t want to ruin the surprise…”

Maggie gave her best over-exaggerated frowny face.

Uncle Jake laughed. “Oh, all right. It’s at a high-rise condo being built on the beach. The

place is only a shell right now, so just the interior structure’s built. But that means we can climb

the stairs to one of the top floors and look out on the ocean without any walls blocking us. How’s

that sound?”

Maggie’s eyes grew large. She didn’t want to ruin Uncle Jake’s surprise by telling him

she was a little afraid of heights. He’d been so nice to let her stay at his house, and he seemed so

excited to show her around to some of the popular places in the city. If he could snap out of his

bad mood, the least she could do was put on a brave face. Maybe if she just stood a ways back

from the edge, she’d be fine. Heck, what was the worst that could happen?

Maggie forced a smile and said, “What a fantastic idea. Let’s go.”

CHAPTER 10

“It couldn’t be what?” Norwood asked Frank Hamilton a second time. The hairs on her

arms were standing at full attention. He’d yet to explain his shock at seeing the words Mr. Blue

etched into the tree. It seemed like an internal battle was raging inside his mind. Until there was a

victor, he wouldn’t be able to answer.

Frank violently shook his head. “I don’t understand.” He slammed his fist down on the

table.

“Talk to me,” Norwood said. “Let me know what you’re thinking, and we can work this

through together. I’ll help make sense of it all.”

Frank opened his mouth to speak, but then he shut it again. It seemed the right words

eluded him.

“How about you start from the beginning? When was the first time the expression Mr.

Blue was used? Did your wife, Sara, come up with it?”

Frank shook his head. “No, it started much earlier than that. It was a phrase coined by my

mom because of my brother. You see, Jake was a very moody child. He would experience these

tremendous highs where his joy infected everyone around him. But eventually, we all came to

find out that it was only followed up by his crushing lows. When those would wash over him,

Mom would say, “Oh, look who’s come to visit—Mr. Blue.” Mom and Dad would always refer

to Jake’s bad mood as Mr. Blue. It was almost as if it became his alter ego.”

“Did your family seek out a diagnosis?”

Frank shook his head. “Not when Jake was a kid. You have to understand. That was a

time back before psychiatric help was socially acceptable. But eventually in Jake’s early

twenties, he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. He manages it with medication.”

Norwood sat back in her chair. She realized she’d been inching closer to Frank as he laid

out his family’s history. Trying to digest everything she’d heard, Norwood wanted to collect her

thoughts and figure out where to go from there. It seemed the Hamilton’s had some serious

psychological problems snaking through their family tree.

Frank tapped a finger on the crime scene photo. “This is Jake’s signature. Of sorts. As a

teenager, he would go around marking trees, writing in the corner of his homework, any place he

could—signing Mr. Blue inside a heart. But what does this have to do with Luke’s death? Jake

could have etched this marking on a previous camping trip.”

Norwood mulled over the possibility, but another more sinister scenario kept coming to

the forefront of her mind. “You said that Jake takes medication for his bipolar disorder, right?”

“Far as I know.”

“Have there been any stressors in your brother’s life lately?”

Frank thought for a moment. “Nothing that comes to mind, at least not for a while. His

wife divorced him, but that was a few years back. He had a real tough time with that.”

“When was the divorce exactly?”

“I guess that would’ve been April of 2012. Why?”

Norwood did the math. It was over a year before Luke Hamilton’s death. That timeline

put a serious kink in the theory she’d been batting around. Maybe she was trying to make the

puzzle pieces fit where they shouldn’t. Her suspicions made more sense if the divorce had

happened only months before Luke died, not a year.

“What’s your relationship like with your brother?”

Frank shrugged. “Good enough to send my only living daughter to stay over at his house

if that’s what you’re asking.”

Norwood reminded herself that she would have to ask specific questions to get the

answers she wanted and berated herself for trying to take a shortcut. But for some reason, it felt

like time was slipping away. She shook off the feeling and took a deep breath. “Let’s try this.

What’s the biggest fight you’ve ever had with your brother?”

“I don’t know if you mean something like this, because it’s not really a fight, but my

brother blames me for his limp.”

“His limp?”

“Yeah, his knee was crushed when he ran his four-wheeler into a tree. He and I were

racing, and he lost control of his ATV. Jake always insisted that I ran him into the tree on

purpose, but that’s crap. All his life, he’s had to win at all costs. His own recklessness got him

mangled up. But he refuses to hear it. So he blames me.”

“How old was he?”

“Sixteen. Why?”

CHAPTER 11

“Just a minute, Uncle Jake.” Maggie pulled her ringing cell phone out of her back pocket.

She read the name of the caller and sighed, waiting for the ringing to end.

“Why didn’t you answer it?”

“It was Dad. I’m not ready to jump that hurdle yet. He’s probably calling to tell me that

he’s changed his mind, and it’s time to come home. I’m not ready to leave yet.” Maggie looked

at her uncle. He sat on the ledge with his legs dangling over the fifth-floor opening, staring out at

the waves rolling toward the shore. He’d wanted to climb higher, but Maggie’s anxiety had

kicked in, and she’d finally talked him in to settling for only five flights. She couldn’t see his

face, not because of the low light, sunset was still over an hour away, but she was sitting farther

back, unwilling to get too close to the edge.

When Maggie had mentioned not being ready to go home, she didn’t notice any kind of

negative reaction from him, so she decided to push a little further. Maybe she should open up to

Uncle Jake about her concerns regarding her father. Just the thought of her dad brought all the

memories of yesterday crashing back. Her light mood from the afternoon’s activities seemed to

evaporate and blow away on the wind that had picked up. She shivered.

“What if Luke and Corrine’s deaths weren’t accidents?” Maggie blurted out. Sometimes

it was just best to get it out there instead of dancing around the subject. She’d never been very

graceful anyway.

Jake turned to look at Maggie. “What do you mean by not accidents?”

Maggie ignored the bing sound on her phone that alerted her to a new text message and

took a deep breath. “What if Luke and Corrine were murdered?”

A fleeting look crossed Uncle Jake’s face. Maggie thought maybe he was trying to hide

his shock at the question.

“If that were the fact, wouldn’t the police have investigated more?”

Maggie took his question as a good sign. At least he hadn’t immediately discounted her

as a silly child who still believed the tooth fairy collected teeth and Santa Claus delivered

presents once a year.

“The police could have missed something. Who knows? They could have thought it was

just another open-and-shut case. But one thing I do know—” Maggie’s phone rang again.

“Aren’t I the popular one today?” she groused, looking down at the screen. “Sorry, Uncle Jake. I

really should take this one. Give me a sec.”

She stood up. When she couldn’t hear the other person on the end of the line, she moved

deeper inside the building next to a wall by the stairs to help block the sound of the wind

whipping by.

“Maggie, where are you?” asked the caller.

“What’s wrong, Detec—?”

“No! Don’t say my name out loud. I don’t want him to know that it’s me on the other end

of the line.”

Maggie shook her head in confusion. She didn’t understand why Detective Norwood

didn’t want Maggie to say her name out loud. And who was the “him” she was referring to? Her

uncle? Why would he care if she were on the phone with the detective?

“Where are you?” Norwood repeated.

“Watching the sunset. Why?”

“Are you with your uncle?”

“Yes.”

“You need to … le … ri … now.”

Maggie didn’t understand what Detective Norwood said. Either the phone was cutting out

or the wind had prevented her from hearing everything.

“What did you say?” Maggie asked.

“Give me your address.” Norwood’s voice was surprisingly clear.

As loud as Maggie’s surroundings were, the detective’s concerned tone hadn’t escaped

her notice this time. She started to get nervous. Why did Norwood sound so worried? She’d

never heard her like this.

“Maggie?” her uncle called out again.

She couldn’t remember the address or the names of any nearby cross streets. A memory

sparked, and she envisioned the tiny mom-and-pop restaurant they’d walked by on the way. It

looked like a real authentic Italian place. She’d thought about asking Uncle Jake if they could go

there for dinner after the sunset. What was the name? Something Grille.

“Marea’s Tuscan Grille, that’s it. We walked by there on the way to a condo that’s being

built. We’re watching up top on the—”

“No, Maggie. I don’t have time to go into it, but please trust me. Leave now. Run down

the stairs quick and get to that crowded restaurant. I’ll meet you there.”

“Maggie,” Uncle Jake hollered. “Finish up your call. We need to talk more about that

theory of yours before the sun begins to set.”

“Are you there?” Maggie said into the phone, straining to hear Detective Norwood. But

there was only silence. Had the call dropped or had the detective hung up on her? Maggie didn’t

understand why she had to get away from her uncle, but she trusted the detective.

Maggie waited another second, terrified to move but more scared to stay put. She heard

her uncle’s voice drawing closer. He must be checking on why her phone call was taking so

long. Maggie started down the stairs as quickly as she dared. There were no walls on either side

to hold on to for balance, just freestanding stairs in the middle of the high rise. After one flight

down, she made the mistake of looking forward instead of down. Dizziness swept over her as she

caught a glimpse of the height she was at. She sank down, sitting on the step to catch her breath.

With nothing to brace her on her downward descent, Maggie knew she wouldn’t make it

to the ground by herself. On the way up, she’d held her uncle’s arm, staring at each step she

took, feeling comfort with him by her side. Now, it was all too much.

Maggie decided to hide instead. She was small. If she could just find something to crouch

behind or shimmy into, she would be safe.

CHAPTER 12

Maggie heard the muffled sound of shoes smacking the concrete. It sounded like the

noise was moving away. She hoped her uncle would think she had escaped to the ground level

and would give up his pursuit. But Maggie could still hear him hollering her name from a

distance.

She readjusted her position underneath the heavy-duty piece of plastic covering her and a

large pile of wood. There hadn’t been many hiding spots, but she knew better than to pick one of

the obvious places like the porta-potty she’d seen on the fourth floor or the industrial-sized

dumpster on the third, the lowest floor she could get to.

Her back twitched as she pressed it closer to the wood. She was on her right side with her

body flush against the pile. She envisioned herself melding with the wood, a chameleon taking

on its coloring and shape. But she didn’t know how much longer she could hold the position.

Wondering if it was safe to leave yet, she decided to wait a little longer even though she couldn’t

hear her uncle anymore. The few horror movies she’d watched always had the dumb blonde

thinking she was in the clear. She’d come out of her hiding spot only to have a machete sink into

her stomach. No thanks. She’d stay right where she was.

Why was her uncle chasing her anyway? Or was he? Maybe he’d simply gone looking

for her because she’d made such a fool of herself running away. She thought about Detective

Norwood’s frantic tone, but she wondered if she’d been reading too much into it. Right before

Norwood called, Maggie had told her uncle she thought her siblings had been murdered. Uncle

Jake seemed interested and wanted to know more. Maybe he would listen to her and help her

find out what really happened to Luke and Corrine. But the detective said Maggie should get

away from him immediately. Even though it didn’t make sense, she listened to her inner voice

and kept still.

Maggie heard a crash, but she couldn’t tell where it came from. With the wind whipping

through the building unimpeded by walls, the sound carried in strange ways. She struggled to see

through the plastic, but it was too thick to make out anything.

In the distance, she heard her name called again. The voice was getting closer. She

strained to hear her uncle’s words.

“Why did you run? Maggie, where are you? Why do you think I killed your brother and

sister?”

What? I was going to tell Uncle Jake my theory of how Dad killed Luke and Corrine.

Why would he say that I thought he was a killer?

A noise cracked near her. It sounded like the wind had caught the door to the portable

toilet and whipped it open. She hoped Uncle Jake would look in the obvious places and then

move on to keep searching the other floors.

He laughed with a maniacal glee that made a crop of goose bumps break out over her

arms. Maggie held her breath, afraid even expelling air would move the plastic and give her

location away.

“I loved you kids like you were my own. I would never hurt any of you.”

Maggie could hear his words clear as day now, but the severe tone didn’t match the

sentiment.

A metallic crash sounded, and an animalistic growl cut through the air. Maggie tensed,

fear flooding her body. She couldn’t help but think that Uncle Jake had been a quick study,

finally getting that ferocious bear sound down.

Suddenly, the plastic covering flew up.

CHAPTER 13

Maggie knew Uncle Jake was standing in front of her. She could hear his voice, but she

refused to open her eyes. Maybe if she didn’t look at him, she could convince herself this was

just a dream. Maybe she’d wake up in his guest bedroom, and they’d have a good laugh over the

crazy dream she’d just had. But as an iron hand clamped around her wrist, her eyes popped open

of their own volition.

“Think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

Maggie couldn’t find her voice. She just shook her head back and forth as he dragged her

to her feet.

“How’d you figure it out? The stupid cops ruled Luke and Corrine’s deaths accidents.

Even your father and mother had no idea. I mean—how stupid!”

When Maggie didn’t answer, he shook her by the shoulders.

“I said to tell me how you figured it out.”

Maggie whimpered. “I… I didn’t. I thought my dad killed them.”

Jake dropped Maggie. He’d been holding all her weight. When he let go, she folded to

the floor.

“Why, Uncle Jake? Why would you do something like that?”

Jake started chanting under his breath in a singsong way. It seemed like some kind of

incantation, but as Maggie listened to the words, she realized it was more like a little kid’s poem.

Come for a day, come for a week,

Little whispers he does speak,

Feeling sad,

Don’t make him mad,

Mr. Blue,

He’s gonna find you.

Jake kept repeating the words. Maggie stood and started slowly backing up. His voice

grew louder with each verse until he finally shouted, “Mr. Blue’s gonna find you!”

The fierceness skewed his features, frightening Maggie into flight. She turned and ran,

but Jake pulled her back by the hair. Her hands fought his, trying to get him to loosen his grip.

“Maggie? Maggie?”

She could hear her name being called, but it seemed like it was coming from far away. A

sound carried on the wind.

With one hand tightly fisted around her hair and the other around her stomach, Jake

dragged her backward toward the edge of the building. Maggie transformed into a combative

animal, twisting her body, trying to wrench free from her uncle’s grip. Then she let out a soul-

piercing scream.

Jake clamped her mouth shut. Her teeth hit against each other so hard it rattled her whole

head. He had stifled the sound, but, hopefully, whoever had been calling her name heard enough

to locate her.

Jake kept one hand over her mouth and the other around her waist. He spun her around to

face the horizon and then fought her forward, closer to the ledge.

He whispered in her ear. It was even scarier than his roar. “Sorry, little Maggie. This is

one sunset you will never see.”

She could only feel the concrete under half her shoes. Beginning to hyperventilate, she

tried to pull in enough air through her nose. One push and she’d fly off the building.

“Falling is a good way to go, don’t you think? Appropriate too. It’s actually the number-

one cause of accidental deaths.”

Maggie started talking even though her every word was muffled.

Jake moved his hand and demanded she repeat herself.

“You’ll never get away with it.”

He laughed—a sound laced with crazy. “Come now. If I can convince everyone that your

sister accidentally drowned when it was me pulling her under from below, then don’t you think I

can get out of this one?

“I mean, Officer, I took my niece out for ice cream trying to get her mind off her

troubles.” He changed his voice, making it sound drippy with concern. “But she was so

distraught over her siblings’ deaths that she wouldn’t stop talking about how she knew she was

the next to die. Sure, I was worried, but again, I thought I could take her mind off it, maybe

remind her of everything she had to live for. I thought watching a sunset would help show her it

was worth sticking around. But she just started talking crazy and getting closer to the edge. I

tried to stop her, Officer, but she jumped before I could grab her.” Jake added a couple of fake

sobs and then laughed again.

“Maggie,” a strong voice yelled out from behind them.

Jake turned, still holding on tight to her.

“Let her go, Jake.” Her dad rushed forward, but Jake hefted Maggie up and dangled her

off the side of the building.

Frank stopped. “You don’t have to do this. Your beef’s with me, not her. Let Maggie go.”

Jake angled his body so that he could look back at his brother while still keeping Maggie

precariously close to the edge.

She shut her eyes, blocking out the ground.

“What do you mean—this has nothing to do with Maggie?” Jake said. “It has everything

to do with her. With Luke. With Corrine. All this time, you’ve had three loving kids and a wife

who adores you while I’ve had nothing. All because of you.”

“What do you mean?”

Jake let out a hard laugh that was anything but funny. “It’s your fault Jennifer left me.”

“Bullshit. It’s always someone else’s fault. Your failings, your shortcomings—why don’t

you stand up and take responsibility for once in your life?”

Maggie could feel the anger coursing through her uncle’s body. His grip tightened,

squeezing her stomach to where she could barely breathe. She tried to move her arms. If she

could only get into her back pocket. But her arms were pinned.

The fury in Jake caused him to sputter with rage. “Jenn… Jennifer left because she

wanted children, and I couldn’t give them to her. Couldn’t because you ran me into that damn

tree. The ‘accident’ left me infertile. You’re the reason my life has turned to shit. So turnaround

is fair play, brother. I can’t have children so you won’t have them either.”

In her uncle’s anger, he had loosened his grip.

Maggie could hear the sound of sirens approaching.

“Did you ever wonder, brother, how one person could have so much bad luck? The

business, the car wreck, the burglary, your kids… It was me, Frank. The puppet master behind

the curtains, pulling all the strings. I orchestrated every misery that befell you. Me.”

Maggie maneuvered her hand to her back pocket. She gently slid out her makeshift

weapon and guided it down her hip until she could get a good grip around it.

With one quick movement, she stabbed her uncle in the leg.

Jake screamed, the guttural sound of a wounded animal. The jagged piece of wood stuck

out of his upper thigh. Blood flowed from the wound.

Maggie dropped to the concrete, trying to crawl beyond reach. He bent down and grabbed

her by the ankle.

She screeched and started kicking at his hand.

Her father ran forward and pushed Jake.

They both went flying off the building.

CHAPTER 14

Detective Norwood stood at the door to Frank Hamilton’s ICU room. Through the

window, she saw Maggie siting in a chair next to her father’s bed, her head resting on his arm.

Norwood had waited for Sara to leave the room before she approached. She wanted a chance to

talk to Maggie alone.

Norwood lightly rapped on the door.

Maggie lifted her head and offered an exhausted smile.

“How are you holding up?” Norwood asked as she entered the room.

The girl shrugged her shoulders.

“I haven’t known your dad for long, but I can tell he’s a fighter.”

Maggie nodded. Tears welled up in her eyes. “He saved my life.”

“He’s a brave man. And he loves you. He may have been strict, but he was just worried

about losing you. You see that now, right?”

“How could I have ever thought he killed Luke and Corrine? My own father.” Maggie

hung her head and sobbed.

Norwood walked over and put a soothing hand on her shoulder. “Shush. He’s going to

make it. You’ll see. His body just has to work on repairing itself and then he’ll wake up.”

Surviving a three-story fall wasn’t unheard of, especially when landing on top of another

person. Jake Hamilton had taken the brunt of the impact and was currently resting quite

comfortably in the morgue.

“I’ve behaved so horribly. What if I don’t get to tell him I’m sorry?”

Norwood thought back to her own mother in the hospital. She’d overdosed on pills, and

the doctors had never been able to restart her heart. As angry as Norwood had been with her,

there were still things she wished she’d gotten to say. And speaking the words over her casket

hadn’t been the same. She hoped Maggie’s dad would fight his way back to consciousness so she

would get the closure that Norwood never got.

“What will I say to him when he wakes up?” Maggie asked, looking up at the detective.

“Don’t worry. You’ll know. Let your heart do the talking, and it will all work out.”

Norwood nodded toward Maggie’s dad. His eyes fluttered and slowly opened.

THE END

A Note from the Author

Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoyed my first shorter work of fiction, My Blue Nightmare. I promise there

will be more to come. Eventually, I plan to combine them into a boxed set called My Nightmare

Series. If you enjoyed my storytelling, please consider reading one of my full-length mysteries,

Dead Like Me or Deadly Fantasies. They’re the first two novels in the Detective Kate Springer

series. Dead Like Me was named a semi-finalist in the Kindle Book Review’s 2013 Best Indie

Book competition. I also have a psychological thriller out called Splintered. It was named a 2015

Kindle Scout winner and published by Amazon’s Kindle Press. You can visit Amazon to

download a sample of each novel, or keep reading to check out the first chapter of each novel

listed below.

Now that you’re signed up for my author newsletter, you’ll get regular updates about

giveaways, contests, current projects, and special behind-the-scenes sneak peeks into my writing

life.

If you have any questions about either this novelette, my other books, the publishing

business, or anything else, please don’t hesitate to contact me at

contactkelly@kellymillerauthor.com or visit my website at www.kellymillerauthor.com.

Best regards,

Kelly Miller

Dead Like Me

The first book in the Detective Kate Springer Series, Dead Like Me, is now available in ebook

and paperback on Amazon. This debut novel was named a finalist in the mystery category of The

Kindle Book Review’s 2013 Best Indie Books Awards competition, and it won 2nd

place in the

best mystery category of the 2011 FWA Royal Palm Literary Awards competition.

On edge after a two-week mandatory leave, Detective Kate Springer is blindsided when

she discovers she shares a link with Tampa’s newest murder victim—a troubled teen found

strangled and dumped in a remote part of town.

The bond between them threatens to expose Detective Springer’s past—one she’s been

hell-bent on keeping secret. When the killer finally emerges from the shadows, Kate’s secrets

aren’t the only thing on the line. So is her life.

Deadly Fantasies

Find out what happens next in the Detective Kate Springer Series. Deadly Fantasies is now

available in ebook and paperback on Amazon.

A ringing phone at 1:17 am is never a good thing, but Homicide Detective Kate Springer

doesn’t have the luxury of ignoring the call. On the other end, a confessor admits to murdering

her husband. Dr. Nina Grace needs help, and Kate knows it’s time to repay a debt. No matter the

consequences, Kate must fight to keep the investigation from solely focusing on her friend.

Jonathan Grace controls the people in his life like he does his business—with a

chokehold. His insatiable appetite for living life on the edge leads him to a club where he’s

encouraged to act out his darkest desires. But what happens when one man’s fantasies become

another’s nightmares?

Did Dr. Nina Grace kill her husband or did Jonathan’s secret life lead to his death?

Detective Springer knows that no matter what her friend admitted, she couldn’t be capable of the

horrific torture and murder of her husband. But will Kate’s blind loyalty be her downfall?

Splintered

In my third novel, Splintered, I introduce my readers to a whole new cast of characters. You can

find this 2015 Kindle Scout winner in ebook and paperback on Amazon.

Life turns from barely tolerable to complete hell when Maddy Eastin’s impulsive plan to

win back the attention of her absentee father backfires. Word of her scheme spreads through her

high school, but when mockery escalates to cyberbullying, Maddy and her failed stunt become

headline news. But the worst is yet to come…

A disturbed man is fighting the overwhelming urge to surrender to his true nature—a

moral code molded by a sadistic father who taught him that a girl needs proper training to

become the perfect subservient woman. As he watches Maddy on the evening news, his already

fractured psyche completely splinters. She’s the girl he’s been waiting for.

When Maddy disappears, she’s labeled a runaway even though her mother believes it was

foul play. Will the two detectives investigating Maddy’s disappearance find her before it’s too

late? Or has she already fallen prey to the vicious stranger hunting her?

This psychological thriller unfolds through the viewpoints of five deeply flawed

characters. Each is on their own emotionally charged journey that ultimately intersects in a

collision course of devastating consequences.