Splintered (Mike Campbell Series Book 1) Read online

  Splintered

  Rosemary Wilson

  Text Copyrighted @ 2015 by Rosemary Wilson

  All Rights Reserved

  To Carl F. Wilson

  He was my husband, my best friend and

  the love of my life.

  I will always miss you.

  FORWARD

  This is my first book, so I thank you for taking a chance on me. ‘Splintered’ is a work of fiction. The characters were created for this novel, so any similarities to living people are purely coincidental. I tried to be accurate in describing locations in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, but I have taken many liberties with police procedures so the story flowed more fluidly.

  Reading has always been a big part of my life. Writing has not. I have enjoyed the creative process and look forward to continuing the adventures of Mike Campbell. I hope you like this young detective as much as I do.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 45

  CHAPTER 46

  CHAPTER 47

  CHAPTER 48

  CHAPTER 49

  CHAPTER 50

  CHAPTER 51

  CHAPTER 52

  CHAPTER 53

  CHAPTER 54

  CHAPTER 55

  CHAPTER 56

  CHAPTER 57

  CHAPTER 58

  CHAPTER 59

  CHAPTER 60

  CHAPTER 61

  CHAPTER 62

  CHAPTER 63

  CHAPTER 64

  CHAPTER 65

  CHAPTER 66

  CHAPTER 1

  What was it about this house? For the second time in less than a week all hell was about to break loose. Mike had to get Sandy out of here fast, without arousing her suspicions. He thought about her neighbor and checked his phone for Mary’s number as he climbed the basement steps. She answered her cell on the second ring. “Mrs. Parker, this is Detective Mike Campbell.”

  “Well hi Detective. What can I do for you?”

  “I brought Sandy home to get her clothes, but there’s a problem and I need to get her out of the house. Are you at home?”

  “Yes. I’ll be right over.”

  “Thanks. I really appreciate it. She may not want to leave, but you’ve got to be persistent.”

  “I’m here.”

  Mike closed his cell and let Mary into the living room. She looked at Mike and in a hushed voice asked, “What’s going on Detective?”

  Mike answered in a low and urgent tone, “I can’t get into the details now, Mrs. Parker. It’s vital that you get Sandy out of here right now.”

  Although her curiosity to know what was going on was at a fevered pitch, she took her cue from Mike and cheerfully called up the steps to let Sandy know she was there. As Sandy descended the staircase, Mary greeted her warmly and smiled at her young neighbor. “Hi Sandy, I saw you and Mike arrive earlier. I had to come over and see how you were recovering.”

  Sandy reached the bottom of the steps and the women hugged. “It’s so good to see you Mary.”

  “Right back at you. You’re looking pretty good for someone who just got out of the hospital. How are you feeling?”

  “Better than I thought possible. Mike brought me here to get my clothes and a few personal things. I’m staying with my parents right now.”

  “I’ve missed you. Do you have time to come over for a cup of tea and fill me in on what’s happened?”

  “I really need to get this done before Dave comes home, Mary.”

  “Nonsense. Detective Campbell will make sure everything will be all right. I really miss our talks and I promise I won’t keep you past the first cup.”

  “Okay. Mike, will you just put the suitcases on the bed in the front bedroom. I won’t be more than a half hour.”

  “No problem, Sandy. Take your time.” Mike breathed a sigh of relief as Sandy left with Mary and marveled at how naturally she had maneuvered Sandy out the door. About ten minutes later his partner Max arrived.

  “I thought you were just coming here to pick up some clothes?” Max asked.

  “So did I, but the basement had more than luggage in it.”

  They went down the steps and as Max rounded the newel post at the bottom of the steps he got a look at what had shaken Mike to his core. Sitting propped up against the washer was Dave Flanders, Sandy’s husband. He was bound in duct tape and was quite dead. He had not died easily. His face was bruised from multiple blows. There were shallow cuts on his arms as if whoever did this was toying with him. His head was bent forward with his chin on his chest, but it was clear his throat had been cut because the front of his shirt was covered in blood and what had not soaked into his clothes was pooled on the floor where he sat.

  Max looked from the body to Mike and asked, “Where’s Sandy? Has she seen this?”

  “I called Mary Parker. Luckily she was home. She came over and invited Sandy to visit for a while. Sandy doesn’t know about this.”

  “She’ll know something happened when the coroner and investigative team show up.”

  “I know, but I couldn’t let her see this. I’ll go next door and try and break this to her as gently as possible.”

  “Mike, you did notice his hands are missing?”

  “Yeah. Whoever did this is not only sick, but has a macabre sense of humor. Look on the work bench.”

  Max went over and saw what Mike had seen. Dave’s hands were carefully placed on the work bench holding a piece of paper. The message on the paper was:

  “IF HE HAD KEPT HIS HANDS TO HIMSELF HE WOULD STILL HAVE THEM.”

  “Mike, the good news is, this isn’t a random homicide. The bad news is, we probably have already met the killer.”

  Mike knew Max was right. His day had just gotten much worse. “Let’s keep this note under the radar for now. If it gets out, the press will be all over it. In the meantime, I’d better go next door and tell Sandy her husband is dead.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Six Days Earlier…

  Mike Campbell strolled out of his bedroom after changing into his knocking-around sweats. They were about two inches too short for his 6 foot 2 inch frame, but they were comfortable and since he wasn’t expecting company, had no one to impress. He whistled as he prepared his cat Lucy’s Friday night treat. At almost 30, he owned his own house and had just been promoted to detective in the Lancaster Police Bureau. As far as he was concerned, life couldn’t get much better, except maybe finding a woman to share his life.

  Mike put Lucy’s bowl on the floor as his cell phone played “My
Way”. The caller was his mother and he used the Frank Sinatra song to let him know she was calling from her land line. She had a cell phone but hated using it when she was at home. He had asked her once why she still had a land line and she merely said ‘old habits die hard’.

  “Hi Mom. What took you so long?”

  “Well hello yourself. What do you mean by that?”

  “It’s almost 5:30 on Friday. I’ve spent one week as a detective and haven’t heard from you once.”

  “Aren’t you just full of yourself. I am a very busy person and don’t have time to check on your every move. That’s not why I called. This is the first weekend after April 15th, so Harry will be rejoining the real world now that the tax season is over. I’m having dinner for the family on Sunday to celebrate. If you want to mention how your first week as a detective went, I’m sure we’ll all be glad to listen.”

  Mike was smiling as his not-so-subtle mother tried to make it appear she wasn’t interested in hearing about his week. He strung her along, “That sounds great. It’s always good to see how happy Susan is when her husband stops working 15 hour days. Hey Mom, can I invite my partner Max? He doesn’t have anybody in the area and I have the feeling he spends a lot of time by himself when he’s off duty.”

  “Sure, we’d love to meet him. I’m having baked penne and meatballs so there will be plenty. Hopefully he won’t let you get away with too many exaggerations.”

  Before he could give his mother a zinger he got another call. He checked caller ID. It was the Dispatcher so he hurriedly told his mother, “Listen Mom, I have to go. I’m on call this weekend and I just got a call. See you Sunday. Love you”.

  Before his mother could reply, Mike switched to the incoming call and answered with a curt “Campbell”. The dispatcher gave him the address of an aggravated assault, told him there were uniforms on scene and an ambulance en route. Before he could ask, she also told him his partner had been notified and would meet him at the scene. Mike raced into his bedroom, changed and was out the door in less than two minutes. Lucy never looked up from her dinner.

  He pulled from the Wilshire Hills development onto Columbia Avenue. It was the tail end of rush hour and he would have to navigate a crowded section of the road with its traffic lights and commercial businesses to get to the scene on First Street – less than four miles from his house. He flew down the road making traffic lights and parting traffic with his newly installed siren and lights to get to the scene in record time.

  Mike pulled behind the second patrol car double parked in front of the small row house. As he got out of his car he saw Officer Sean Flynn at the front door, and jogged up the steps to greet him.

  Sean had been one of Mike’s classmates at the Police Academy. A big teddy bear of a man, at six foot one and two hundred pounds he presented an imposing sight. Married to his high school sweetheart, he had two kids and coached his son’s soccer team. Mike remembered how much Sean loved being a cop. He was considered one of the best patrolmen in the Lancaster Police Bureau by his peers.

  “Flynn”, Mike greeted him. “Has the ambulance arrived yet?”

  “No, Detective. The victim is still on the floor in the kitchen with a pretty bad stab wound. Frank Snellenberger is in with her now. The EMT’s will be here in about five minutes.”

  “Has she said who attacked her?”

  “Not while I was in there. She was in and out of consciousness. Frank’s trying to keep her from bleeding out before the EMTs get here.”

  “Okay. Let the EMTs in as soon as they come. Do you know Max Davis?”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen him around.”

  “He’s my partner, so he’s the only other person who gets into this house until we collect all the evidence we can.”

  “Will do. Hopefully, she’s going to make it. It looked pretty bad.”

  Mike entered the house quickly scanning the living room as he walked through. He would process the information later when he and Max were investigating the scene, but his initial impression was of a room setting in a furniture store - everything perfect, matching, and nothing out of place. As a cop, he was grateful he had been born with an eidetic memory - commonly called a photographic memory - because he always saw and remembered the minutest of details. Socially it could be a curse but was a huge asset on the job.

  When he entered the kitchen, he saw Frank Snellenberger kneeling on the floor using a wadded up kitchen towel to place pressure on a stab wound located on the left side of the victim’s midsection. Frank was the exact physical opposite of Sean Flynn. Frank barely met the physical requirements of height and weight to get on the force, but his background as an EMT made him invaluable despite his size. The victim was very lucky he was one of the first responders because he had much more medical expertise than the average patrolman. The woman was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. Her face bore the bruises and swelling of several blows, one of which had split her lip and covered her lower jaw with blood.

  Although her face was swollen from the blows, he thought he recognized her. He looked more closely to confirm his first impression. It was Sandy! She had been in several of his classes in high school and he had had a crush on her during their junior year. He couldn’t believe how much the young beauty he remembered had changed in the intervening years. He knelt beside her, gently took her hand while whispering she needed to hang in there until the paramedics arrived. She opened her eyes and looked at him. He thought he saw recognition in her eyes as a single tear ran down her cheek and mixed with the blood at the corner of her mouth. In that moment Mike knew a rage he didn’t know he was capable of experiencing. He was unsettled by the unexpected emotion and had to call on every bit of self-control to keep his rage from showing. As a cop on a crime scene he had to maintain his composure and not show emotions.

  He asked her several times if she knew her attacker, but she slipped into unconsciousness and gave no response. Minutes later the EMTs arrived and quickly whisked Sandy to the hospital.

  Mike began his examination of the kitchen and was debriefing Frank when Max arrived. Max Davis was an experienced major crimes detective who had spent 25 years with the Philadelphia Police Department. He was about the age of Mike’s father – early fifties. He had a slight spare tire around his middle, and his hair was more salt than pepper, but Mike knew from working with him for the last week, he was sharp and knowledgeable about how to conduct a crime scene.

  Max came into the kitchen and began to ask the patrol officer and Mike about the victim and whether or not she had said anything. Frank told Max the only thing the victim said was to the 911 operator and it was just to ask for help because she had been stabbed. Max made a note to get the 911 recording of the call.

  Max led Mike through the crime scene. Sandy’s cell phone was still on the floor near where her hand had rested. There was no bloody knife in the kitchen, but there was one missing from the knife block on the counter. It seemed the weapon was one of convenience, rather than one the assailant had brought.

  It appeared Sandy had been in the process of making dinner. The salad was prepared and potatoes were ready to be placed in the microwave. The chicken was breaded and waiting on a plate by the stove. Mike made sure the burner wasn’t on before looking elsewhere.

  One of the kitchen chairs was overturned, so there had definitely been a struggle. Had Sandy been surprised by an intruder? There didn’t appear to be any forced entry through the kitchen because the back door was closed and locked, so both Max and Mike walked through the living room to check the front door. Sean and Frank both said when they arrived the door was closed, but not locked. Had Sandy opened the door to her attacker? She had on a wedding band and she was preparing dinner for two. Where was her husband? Was he still working?

  Max and Mike went back to the kitchen to make sure they hadn’t missed anything. A couple of minutes later there was a commotion at the front door. Mike once again crossed the living room and opened the door to find out who was making the scene. For
the second time that night he was taken by surprise. Dave Flanders was screaming at Officer Flynn that he wanted to get into his house. Dave and Sandy had been THE couple in high school. He was the star quarterback on the football team and she was the head cheerleader. Evidently, they had not gone their separate ways after school.

  Before Mike knew Dave and Sandy were a couple he had asked her out. Even though she had turned him down, word got back to Dave. He and his offensive line cornered Mike and made it clear if Mike wanted to keep his good health, he would stay away from Sandy. When a jock tells a nerd to stay away – especially when backed up by that much muscle - the nerd heeds the warning. Mike never approached Sandy again.

  Dave looked away from Officer Flynn as the front door opened. Dave’s face flushed as he saw Mike and he literally snarled “What are you doing in my house, Campbell, and why is this cop keeping me out?”

  “I didn’t realize this was your house Dave. Sandy called 911 because she was attacked and stabbed. Detective Davis and I are here to find out who did it.”

  Dave’s voice rose an octave as he looked at Mike and asked “What do you mean she’s been attacked? Who? How? When?”

  “Those are the same questions we have Dave.” Mike thanked Officer Flynn, closed the front door and led Dave to the sofa. When he was seated Mike asked “Where were you about an hour ago?”

  “I stopped on the way home from work for a drink.”

  “Where?” Mike asked as he took out his notebook.

  “What do you mean where?” Dave snapped.

  Mike recognized this could get confrontational quickly because Dave had been known in high school as a great athlete with a short fuse and it didn’t look like much had changes in ten years. “I just want to know where you stopped for the drink” Mike calmly asked as he glanced over at Max who was intently observing Dave.

  “I don’t remember” Dave snarled.

  Max stepped closer to the sofa and quietly introduced himself. “I’m Detective Max Davis, Mr.?”.

  “Flanders.”