Scott Wittenburg - The May Day Murders

“Did she mind her father?”

“Oh yes, she did. But she was a year younger when Sam and I were still together. I’m not so sure she’d even mind him now, if he were still in the picture.”

“It’s amazing how much difference a year can make, isn’t it?”

“You can say that again,” Ann replied.

Just then the telephone rang. Ann stood up and went over to the wall phone behind the bar.

“Hello?”

There was nothing but silence on the other end.

“Hello?” Ann repeated.

Suddenly she heard heavy breathing. At first Ann thought that who ever was on the other end might be hurt or in trouble; perhaps even Amy. “Who is this?” she asked uncomfortably.

Then a hoarse voice wheezed, “I’m going to fuck you!”

“You what…?” Ann blurted, then slammed down the receiver.

“What was that all about?” Jerry asked.

Ann’s back was still facing him as she struggled to compose herself. “Just a crank call,” she finally answered.

She turned and saw the concerned look on Jerry’s face.

“You’re white as a sheet, Ann!” he exclaimed. He stood up and ran over to her.

“Who was that on the phone?” he demanded.

Ann wasn’t sure why she felt so helplessly terrified right at that moment. Perhaps it was due to the hideous manner in which the caller had breathed those awful words and the fact that it was still giving her goose bumps. Or maybe it was because she now realized for the first time just how mortified she was of living alone in this house with her teenage daughter in a strange town and not having Sam around to protect them…

All she was really sure of was that there was a man there now and that she was grateful beyond words.

“God, Jerry,” she moaned, burying her head in his chest. Jerry put his arms around her as she felt herself trembling uncontrollably in his embrace. Ann felt the urge to cry in her frustration but willed herself not to. Instead, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to be held securely in Jerry’s arms until she finally calmed down enough to face him.

“Thanks, Jerry.” she said weakly.

His eyes were filled with concern and passion as he said, “What happened, Ann?”

Ann looked away a moment, and then replied, “It was an obscene phone caller. He said that he was going to, you know, do it to me. God, it was awful!” she cried. “I’m so stupid! I should have hung up the moment I heard him breathing… just as I told Amy to do.”

“He’s called before?”

Ann nodded slowly. “Last weekend. In the middle of the night.”

Jerry led Ann over to the sofa and motioned for her to sit down. “He talked to your daughter that way?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Ann replied, draining her wine glass dry. “He said the same thing to Amy. I’ll be honest, Jerry, I’m scared to death. Not only have we been getting obscene phone calls but I thought I heard a prowler in the back yard last Saturday night. And to top it all off, I’ve just heard from my ex-husband that the man who murdered my best friend a couple of weeks ago also murdered another woman that I went to high school with! In New York City, no less.”

Jerry Rankin was clearly flabbergasted by all of this. “Hold on a minute, here. What’s this about your friend being murdered? Is this the same woman you were referring to when we spoke on the phone?”

Ann nodded. “Yes, Marsha Bradley. She was raped and strangled in her home back in Smithtown. She had a little six-year-old…”

Ann burst into tears.

Jerry put an arm around Ann and tried to console her. Moments later, she managed to get a hold of herself.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess I just haven’t gotten over it yet.”

“I understand, Ann. I know how difficult it is to lose a loved one,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry I told you all of this, Jerry. I should’ve kept it to myself. Now all I’ve done is ruin what up until now has been a beautiful evening…”

He bent down and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Listen, Ann. I’m glad you told me about this-you did the right thing by getting it off your chest. As for ruining our evening, we don’t have to let that happen if we don’t want to. We’re still together, aren’t we?”

“Thanks for being so understanding, Jerry. Next time, we won’t let anything spoil our date… I promise.”

“There now, that’s the spirit!” he said. His expression suddenly turned grave. “Ann, I am very concerned about all of this. Have you spoken to the police about the prowler and the phone calls?”

“Yes,” Ann nodded. “They suggested that I get an unpublished phone number if the calls persist and told me that they’d keep an eye on the house. Until tonight, the only other time he’d called was last Saturday.”

“Well, you should go ahead and get a new phone number as soon as possible, then. Nip this off at the bud before it gets out of hand.”

“I suppose you’re right. I’ll call the phone company on Monday.”

“Now I want to say something else and it’s very important, Ann. If you ever, and I mean ever, need me for anything at all you call me, okay? I’ll be there for you, anytime, any day. Will you promise me you’ll do that?”

His voice was emphatic, almost forceful.

“I don’t want to bother you with my problems, Jerry,” Ann said.

“Please, Ann. Don’t shut me out. I want to help you in anyway I can. As a friend, if nothing else. Let me help you.” he persisted.

Ann smiled, grateful and relieved at Jerry’s offer. “Okay, Jerry. That’s very kind of you.”

“Do I have your word on it?”

Ann nodded. “Yes, you have my word.”

“Excellent. Now what’s this about your friend? Do you feel like you can talk about it? Talking helps, you know.”

Ann sighed and took a deep breath. “Marsha was my best friend. We practically grew up together. She was the kindest, most out-going person you could ever know. Anyway, she was found murdered in her home one night by her husband, Dave. She’d been raped and strangled to death. Her little boy, Tommy, was found upstairs locked in a closet-so terrified that he still hasn’t been able to speak to anyone since. The police are totally stumped and don’t have a clue as to who did it.”

Ann swallowed hard before she continued. “This afternoon, Sam called me. He told me that the police in New York City had just confirmed that a woman who was found murdered there a few weeks ago was murdered by the same person who had killed Marsha. The woman, Sara Hunt, used to live in Smithtown and had been a casual acquaintance to both Marsha and I back in high school.”

Jerry’s eyes widened. “Good Lord, Ann! No wonder you’re so concerned! Do you think there might be a connection between these murders; a common motive?”

“That’s what has been so baffling, and frightening. There haven’t been any motives established in either of the murders according to Sam. And I guess the police in New York are just as stumped as the local police in Smithtown are.”

“And no one ever saw the murderer in either instance?”

“Apparently little Tommy Bradley is the only one who might have seen who killed his mother; and he hasn’t been able to speak a word. As for Sara Hunt, Sam indicated that there haven’t been any leads in her case either.”

“That’s incredible. This character must be as clever as he is deranged. Do you think you’re in danger?”

Ann shook her head in frustration. “I don’t know, Jerry. Sam is worried about me of course, but that doesn’t surprise me. He’s always had an overactive imagination. That’s probably from his being a journalist. I’m more realistic than he is, and I honestly can’t think of any way I could possibly be involved in any of this. Marsha just happened to be my best friend. And I barely knew Sara Hunt. My relationship ends there. It is frightening, though. And it really makes one think just how vulnerable we all are nowadays. Until this bastard is caught, no one is really safe.”