Randy Baker discovers his wife murdered in the living room of their home, shot through the back of the head. His gun, usually kept in a locked cabinet, is missing. He takes his young son to a neighbor and calls the police from a pay phone as he has unfinished details that need to be taken care of before he'll succumb to an arrest that seems imminent
Sammi Evans Books
After Randy Baker discovers his wife murdered in the living room of their home, he is arrested for the crime. Then other women are turning up murdered in what seems to be a serial killer's crime spree. The macabre details of the murders have similar characteristics and cries to the police to catch this killer or killers have the entire city up in arms. No woman feels safe and morbid details begin to point to a murder ring that uses women and then disposes of them in a systematic order. Dead ends are coming at the police and FBI from all sides. Can Sammi Evans use her secret methods to determine the direction that these crazed minds will take and trap them before they strike again?
SINISTER THOUGHTS KILL
Sammi Evans Patterson couldn’t believe it wasn’t snowing yet. It was the middle of December and although the weather was cold and messy, it hadn’t yet provided any snow that was necessary for the holiday season to be in full bloom. She felt a little disappointed as she looked out the front window hoping to see a blanket of snow covering their front lawn. Snow was needed, she thought, when would it come?
Her husband Dave had wandered into the room quietly and noticed her looking out the window. As she turned and noticed him, she knew he was in tune with her.
“You want some snow, right?”
“Absolutely. This is so unusual. It’s already December 10th and no snow yet. What’s going on in Pennsylvania this year?”
“I’m sure we’ll get some. It’s certainly cold enough. God, yesterday that chilly wind went right through my coat and got me chilled to the bone.”
“Good thing we’re finally going on vacation. What day do we leave?”
He smiled as he thought that although they were close to a year into their marriage, they hadn’t yet been on a honeymoon. However, the trip was now planned and getting closer.
“We leave on the 27th and fly directly to Aruba to spend at least seven days in the sun. I can hardly wait.”
“I want to look refreshed and relaxed when I get home,” she added eagerly.
“But before then we’ve got to get our tree up and decorated, as well as the house. This weekend is my deadline. I want everything done by then.”
“What type of tree do you want?”
" I want a …”
The telephone rang. Dave immediately looked up at the clock. It was nine thirty on Friday night. He couldn’t imagine.
“Yeah, Tom, what’s up?”
Tom Harrington was one of his police buddies and important in his inner circle. Sammi noticed that he listened intently for more than five minutes; he didn’t utter one word. That was unusual. When he did speak, he seemed somber yet focused. Later, as he put the phone down, he turned to her and took one particularly deep breath in an effort to clear his head.
His expression told her volumes, but she waited until he spoke. “God, Sammi, this one’s tough.” He stopped again before he could continue. Then he began in earnest.
“I don’t think you know Randy Baker, do you?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“He and Tom have been friends for years. They went to high school together and their lives have intermingled frequently since then. Anyway, his wife’s been found dead in their home. She was shot through the back of the head and the police think it was Randy’s gun that did it.”
Sammi sat up to attention. This would be an emotional situation under any circumstances, but having the husband accused, well ... she waited for Dave to continue.
“Tom doesn’t buy it for a minute. He’s beside himself right now. But he’s asking to be involved in this case and wants us there, too.”
“Of course. What does he want us to do?”
“Nothing right now. It’s out of our jurisdiction. The murder happened over in Kingston so we’ll have to get permission to help out. That’ll be up to the sarge.
“Wow! Do they have any clues?”
“Tom doesn’t know. He got a courtesy call from a mutual friend so the information is rather sketchy right now. It seems they have one child, a ten year old. Don’t know if it’s a boy or girl, but the child has already gone to foster care. Tom and Jill have made a request to social services that the child be allowed to stay with them. Honestly, Sammi, Tom sounded in tears.”
“With Jill being a teacher, she could get that child into her school and be around when needed. Gees, that kid must be so devastated.”
“I’m going to meet Tom at the station tomorrow. He wants to talk with Jim, the sarge and me alone and go over some of the evidence against his friend. He didn’t see them all the time, but they did keep in touch and Tom says he was happy with his family; he’d never have done this.”
Sammi sat quietly. Anyone could snap under stress and she knew Dave realized it, too. They had to wait and see the evidence. The fact that she had been shot with Randy’s gun didn’t help the situation.
Dave came over and sat down beside her. He put his arm around her and relaxed his body. She felt he knew that he wouldn’t be getting too much relaxation in the near future.
He said, “I know that Tom’s positive Randy didn’t do this. Yet friendship can cloud your judgment. I want you to listen in when we question him. I’m sure Tom will want you there as well. You can listen to his thoughts and then we can all be on the same page.”
“Of course I will. I wish with all my heart that he didn’t do this,” she said.
“So do I, for everyone’s sake. So do I.”
There was a considerable pause before Dave spoke again. “The thing is that he hasn’t been arrested yet. It might be too soon for that, but it seems that no one knows where he’s at. That’s the bad part. It appears that he took off.”
That was the last word spoken. It always looked bad when someone ran off, especially since he left his ten-year-old child. They both sat in their own bewildered thoughts, miffed at the turn of events. They’d have to be patient and wait for the evidence. The evidence always had a story of its own to tell.