Before half time was over two things had happened. One was that P.J. had seen a cool travel commercial touting New England tourism. The other thing that happened was that P.J. was two hundred and fifty thousand dollars richer.
The next morning P.J. drove straight to the lottery commission to cash in his ticket. Then, remembering the television commercial from the night before and thinking it might be a sign, he headed off in search of the craggy cliffs and sandy beaches of the Northeast Coastline.
Lucy Brewster
Lucy Brewster went from sound asleep to wide awake in an instant. She bolted up in bed, heart thumping, eyes staring through the dark, ears straining for the sound that must have awoken her. But there was nothing but the lazy country sounds of a hot, summer evening. The whirring noise of the fan, the rhythmic buzzing of katydids, the musical chirp of crickets, and the warning hum of cicadas all mixed with the soft rumble of distant thunder. Lucy had no idea what had caused her to bolt up in bed with her heart thumping out of her chest, but it was not the first time it had happened to her.
It was such a beautiful spot on the lake, she knew she should feel more relaxed and comfortable. But even after a few weeks, Lucy found that she still wasn’t used to the nightly cacophony of the country sounds. Her sleep was typically restless. Especially on nights like this when you could cut the humidity with a knife. Lucy could feel the heat prickle at the back of her neck. The damp, cotton cloth clung to her sweat soaked back. She peeled off her nightgown and headed down the hall to the small bathroom. The floorboards creaked beneath Lucy’s feet, and the walls of the house shook as the ancient copper pipes worked hard to bring a spray of water through the rusty shower head.
Standing under the cool blast, Lucy lathered herself up in the mint olive oil soap that she had gotten at the farmer’s market the day before. Then she washed her hair in chamomile shampoo and rinsed it in a mixture of vinegar and lemon juice to make it shine. When she felt squeaky clean and cool, Lucy put on a fresh night shirt and went downstairs to get a drink of water. It was just past two a.m. and she couldn’t imagine that Kenny would be much longer.
Lucy had met Kenny two years earlier when she had first been hired as a research assistant at a small, private college. Kenny had been in his first year as an adjunct professor. Because the college had a lot of on campus events and the staff was friendly and close in that drinks on Friday, brunch on Sunday kind of way, Lucy and Kenny had found their paths crossing often. They developed a fast, furious, and fierce attraction for each other and soon found out that they were just as compatible in bed as they were out of it.
After each earth shattering, star exploding, mind blowing sexual adventure they would lie in bed, hands entwined, limbs tangled, and talk about the future that they envisioned together as a couple. At the center of their wish list had been a two story, center hall colonial, a minivan in the driveway, and as many children as God would serve to bless them with. Lying safe and secure in each other’s arms, the young love birds planned out a perfect future together.
After only a few months into their relationship, Lucy and Kenny decided to get married in city hall during a semester break. Then they had celebrated with colleagues and friends around a bonfire. Wine, and roasted marshmallows had been the only thing on the menu, and just like everything else in their lives, it had been perfect.
Lucy and Kenny’s wedded life together had been easy, comfortable, and blissfully happy.
Until it wasn’t.
Until a series of events occurred in the small college town that were so tragic, so evil in intent, that they shook the small community to its core.
The first victim, Cassandra Mooney, had been found in a dumpster at the rest area two miles from campus on Rte. 54. Her body had been wrapped in black garbage bags and tied with thick nylon rope. Cassie had been an attractive, friendly, young woman with silicone enhanced breasts and a wide smile. She worked three mornings a week at the college cafeteria and took an occasional night course when time and money allowed. Cassie had been a steady favorite with staff and students alike because of her easy going nature and dedication to her job. No one underestimated the value of a warm, nutritious breakfast especially during midterms and finals. To that end, Cassie had always made sure the coffee was hot and fresh, the bagels toasted to a perfect golden brown and the pancakes light and fluffy. She had shared a double wide trailer with her sister, Barbie, over at Pink Flamingo R.V. The sisters both took their clothes off for money at the Golden Banana, a strip joint that was just past the town line. Despite Barbie’s insistence that her sister was no whore, the police did little investigation into Cassandra Mooney’s death, assuming that the murder was the result of a trick gone wrong.
Bobbi Lee Gentry was the second victim, and she was about as different from Cassandra Mooney as she could get. Bobbi Lee had been a nineteen year old freshmen whose family had a large cattle ranch somewhere in the Ohio Valley. She was fresh faced, freckled, and engaged to Stuart Sherwood who put a ring on it when she went home for the Christmas holiday.
Bobbi Lee had planned to finish off the year, then return home to begin her life on the rodeo circuit as Stuart Sherwood’s wife. When
