Jackson Heights Chapter 1 And 2

1650 Words 7 Pages
While investigating Katherine Lincoln’s death, another murder shook the core of Jackson Heights. Are these deaths connected? Why do they arouse old childhood scars?
While sitting in the office discussing Katherine’s case the phone rang, “Wallace here,” Smiling, Detective Wallace said, “That is great, bring him in we want to meet him.”
Noticing his partner getting excited, Detective Johnson asked, “What’s that all about?”
“Wait a minute and you’ll see,” he said, opening the door, as a uniformed officer escorted a handcuffed man into the office and he left at once. Immediately, both detectives recognized the man from the description; Mrs. Davis had given them earlier, even the ski cap and jacket with holes. “What
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“Two weeks ago, a woman saw you running from a house. She described you even your ski cap,” he said and asked. “Do you remember it?”
“Well, kind of,” Raymond said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Tell me about it, but remember we have an eyewitness. Should I bring her in to identify you?” The detective asked. “That won’t be necessary, I remember it,” he said, shaking his head. “One night, I slept down by the river and was hungry enough to eat a bear. After checking several houses, I found a door open, went inside and looked around until I found the kitchen. I took some food from the refrigerator and left without touching anything else. You can believe it or not, but I’ve never murdered anyone in my life,” he said. Detective Wallace noticed he was calm, but getting irritated.
“Are you sure you didn’t do anything else while you were in the house?” Detective Wallace asked.
“Hey man, I never touched a thing. Think about it. The only prints you found on the front door, and the kitchen belonged to me. I didn’t use the bathroom, even though; I was busting to pee. I waited until I got to the gas station.” He paused as tears filled his eyes, he asked, “Why do you think I’d murder
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Gunderman’s BMW. Mumbling, he said, “I’m in no mood to put up with Linda Gunderman’s foolishness, and she had better not start this morning. Perhaps, I’m wrong, but she makes it tough to tolerate her stupid remarks,” Andrew said, defending his actions during the past few months. Locking his car, Andrew crossed the parking lot, swinging his keys in his hand. Entering the pharmacy, Andrew noticed the elderly woman standing in line with her grandson, Billy, and heard her scream, “Billy, stand still and stop fidgeting around until I get my

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