Innocent Until Proven Guilty (Sneak Peek)

    Karen Sanders walked home from the grocery store, holding her son’s hand. It was three P.M. on a hot summer’s day, right after the July Fourth weekend, and little Benny was getting antsy. They had just come from the park, and she was hoping he had tired himself out. He was seven years old, and diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. It ran in the family; his father had it. Too bad Gerald was on a business trip, she could really use the extra pair of hands. Benny urgently tugged at her skirt.
    “Mommy, I have to pee,” he said, squirming and fussing. She smiled, and squeezed his hand gently, yet firmly.
    “It’s only three blocks to home, sweetie,” she said pleasantly. “Can you wait until then? Benny nodded, and they continued their walk. She was just turning the key into the door when she felt a sharp object digging into her back. She began to turn around.
    “I wouldn’t do that,” a tall, well built, blonde man said amiably. It was a knife. Benny looked scared, and for once, was deadly silent. “Now, get in the house, both of you.” Karen knew better than to be a hero. But what could he possibly want? They had a decent place, and some nice things, sure, but this man couldn’t know about any of that. They were all inside now, and the man locked the door behind him.
    “Please don’t hurt us,” she said, a pleading look in her pretty blue eyes. “I’ll give you money, or anything else you want. Please.” The man smiled pleasantly, but there was something cold in that smile, she realized. Something devoid of base human emotions. He took one step towards her, then another. He drew a blade from his pocket. It was a wicked looking thing, sharp and deadly. A strip of sunlight danced across it, as he fidgeted with it, the horrible smile never leaving his face. Benny drew close to her; she could feel him trembling.
    “Don’t look so afraid,” the man said perversely. “We’re going to enjoy some quality family time together.” Then he started to cut.
    Detective Rose Redd arrived first on the scene. She was a relatively new detective, only on the force for two years. Still, she had seen much, though nothing quite so grisly as this. The woman was absolutely butchered, as if she were an animal. And it wasn’t a quick death, either. The killer had enjoyed every savage minute. The child was several feet away, in the same condition. Yes, although Rose Redd’s name was the butt of many a joke, this crime scene was anything but humorous. She turned, and spoke to one of the other officers, a veteran named Thomas Aaron, better known as Terrible Tommy.
    “This is the work of the Family Man,” she said. It wasn’t a question. “This is the third murder like this in ten days. It’s getting bad.” Tommy shrugged.
    “He’ll slip up. They always do.” Rose began to shake; she dug her nails into her palms, drawing blood.
    “How many fucking people is he going to carve up before then?,” she countered, exasperated, and stormed off. Tommy did not go after her. When she was like this, it was best to give her some space. In any case, he had a crime scene to secure.
    Rose walked six blocks, relishing the fresh air and cool breeze. Slowly, she began to return to her cool, level-headed self. She was just beginning to turn around and walk back to the crime scene when she heard a voice.
    “You a cop?” It was young kid, accompanied by a bunch of his friends. She didn’t like what she saw. In their eyes was that dangerous mixture of arrogance and disdain for life.
    “Yes, I am,” she said calmly, not wanting to appear afraid. They took a collective step forward, and they began to surround her before she could run. It looked like she would have to fight her way out, whether or not she wanted to. One of them, a slim quick teen with a blue mohawk and a nose ring, charged her suddenly. He was quick, but Rose was quicker. She drove her elbow deep into his nose, hearing it break, blood spurting, as he cried out in pain.
    “Fucking bitch,” he cried, hands going to his nose. The rest advanced on her. Rose fought as hard as she could, reaching for her gun, but they quickly overwhelmed her, and starting furiously punching and kicking her. Then, before anyone knew quite what had happened, one of them fell over, a bullet hole in their forehead. The following confusion was formidable, however, and so three more of the half a dozen attackers dropped dead before they could even begin to think of running. By that time, it was far too late. The shooter, whoever they were, was an excellent shot, and the gang stood no chance. The last to be killed was their leader. and by that time, the fear was evident in his eyes. He knew he was as good as good. When it was all over, Rose Redd got up, and dusted herself off. For the most part, she was unharmed. She looked around, trying to locate whoever had assisted her. She couldn’t see anyone or anything unusual. Suddenly, her phone vibrated. She got out her phone to see who had texted her.
    Are you hurt, detective? A text from an unknown number. Who is this? A minute or two passed, then a response. A friend. She was curious, but at the same time, she was very thankful. Whoever had done this saved her life. Thank you. There was no further response, and she began to wonder if maybe she shouldn’t have answered the message in the first place. Then she walked back to the crime scene and tried to forget about the whole thing.
    For the next few nights, more bodies turned up around Rose Redd’s jurisdiction area, and she began to grow more and more restless. Her initial fear at almost being killed had turned to rage. She wanted this killer caught. She needed this killer caught. But, she found herself wondering, wasn’t that what she thought this mysterious shooter wanted, too? Clearly, he had made a conscious decision not to shoot her. Maybe he was like like that kid in that movie Kickass, a wannabe Batman come to life. In all honesty, she was tired of all the red tape of her police department. Maybe the world could use a real life superhero. She thought these thoughts for a few minutes, then got up, ate a big bowl of cereal and a bagel, then took a hot shower.
    Any luck finding The Family Man, detective? She came back to a text from the mysterious shooter. This all but confirmed her suspicions. Sure, he could just be a crazy lone guman, but he had attacked with purpose. He was tracking the killer down. Maybe, just maybe, Rose thought to herself as she dried her hair, this guy could do what the cops had been able to.
    Meet me in person, Rose texted, and I’ll tell you everything I know. She got dressed, then got ready to go for a nice drive, when she got another message.
    Meet me at the park at four A.M. She told the shooter she’d be there, then drove to the park, anticipating the meeting all the while.
    She spent the day relaxing at the park, watching all the people there. She saw their happy faces, and while she supposed she should feel jealous, instead she felt peaceful. She caught a little boy looking at her, holding his mother’s hand. She smiled at him, and he waved and smiled back. It warmed her heart. The whole reason she had become a cop in the first place was to help people, but the system was broken. And so, she saw the person that saved her life as a hero. Presently, she looked down at her phone. It was getting late. She was hungry, and needed to wash her face. It would be 4 A.M. before she knew it. She gathered her purse, and started the short walk home home. When she got home, she took a long, hot shower, binged on Netflix and ice cream (talk about Netflix and chill), and took a nap. When all was said and done, it was about 1 A.M. “Goddammit,” she exclaimed out loud, and then reached for her new Stephen King book, Insomnia. She had already finished IT the week before, and was quite eager for more Derry shenanigans. She opened to the first page, and began to read.