The Unseen Killer Next Door

quiet. Rain slicked the Chicago streets, turning the city lights into a blurry watercolor painting.

, antique music box on their bodies, its distorted lullaby a permanent echo in our lives. The case went cold, but for me an

y street and my

es in garish, frantic colors. Police cars, an ambulance, yellow tape. It was a

in my hand, my mind a screaming void. I pushed throu

ou doing here?" a

aid, my voice hoar

toward the house next to mine. Old Man Benton's

met me at the tape

d wait in your house,"

napped. "Don't treat me li

te in the cold night air.

up the familiar porch steps. The smell hit

mare that had defined my life. Benton was on the floor, his bo

chest, was a small

illing, metallic plinking of a distorted lullaby filled the roo

he killer. After twenty years,

to overdrive, fighting the wave of pure, unadulterated rage. Then I saw it. Through the

A twitchy, reclusive man I'd on

ce. A flicker of recognition,

en he

!" I yelled,

ch railing, landing hard on the wet grass, and sprinted. Twenty years of

" I screamed i

ences. He scrambled over one, and I followed, my shoulder screaming in protest. W

I could hear his ragged br

pped around his legs, and we went down hard onto the grimy pavement. I was on

rds tasting like victory and

's entrance. A car screeched

Jennife

n my face. "I got him, Jen.

It was horror. It was a shattering, brok

ps unsteady. She wasn't looki

lookin

pair of handcuffs

doing?" I asked, my

ched for my wrists. The cold metal clicked s

, and her voice broke, shatt

box... it

ull of tear

iller