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Ring Around the Rosie (An Olivia Thompson Mystery Book 1)
Ring Around the Rosie (An Olivia Thompson Mystery Book 1) Read online
RING AROUND THE ROSIE
By: Jullian Scott
Ring Around the Rosie
Rosie Thompson is an eighteen-year-old girl with her whole life ahead of her. The Homecoming Dance is just one night away and she can already feel the weight of the crown upon her head. But when she leaves her home that Friday night, it’s for the very last time. When her body is found in a park the next morning, a whole town is turned upside down and a family is torn apart.
Fifteen years later, Olivia still hasn’t moved on from her sister’s murder. Not only does she still see the ghost of her dead sister, she is pursuing a career studying the very monsters that destroyed Rosie and hundreds of other helpless victims. Olivia is desperate to find closure, but a new murder with connections to her past has reopened old wounds.
Nate Tucker is a successful Chicago detective. He also happens to be Olivia’s best friend. Nate has been fascinated by the Thompson case since the first time Olivia mentioned her dead sister to him. When a dead girl shows up in the city under circumstances eerily similar to Rosie’s murder, he is quick to make the connection.
Now, with stale evidence and fifteen-year-old memories to guide him, Nate has the chance to solve the current murder case, as well as the death of the Homecoming Queen that refuses to stop haunting the people she left behind.
Dark and haunting, Ring around the Rosie is utterly suspenseful and surprising to the end.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
FIFTEEN YEARS EARLIER - MONDAY
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
FIFTEEN YEARS EARLIER - TUESDAY
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
FIFTEEN YEARS EARLIER - WEDNESDAY
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
FIFTEEN YEARS EARLIER - THURSDAY
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
FIFTEEN YEARS EARLIER – FRIDAY MORNING
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Copyright © 2016 by Jullian Scott
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
License Notes
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CHAPTER ONE
A crack of thunder hurried Olivia’s journey across the empty parking lot. She glanced up at the sky, but it was too dark to tell if the storm clouds had arrived. When she was just a few yards away from her car, she stopped dead in her tracks. The hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. Her eyes darted around but as far as she could tell, she was alone. Suddenly, huge drops of water pounded Olivia and the pavement.
She jogged the last few steps and dove into her car. Only a few seconds in the rain, but her hair and clothes were damp. “Just great,” she muttered to herself as she turned the key. She flipped on the radio as she pulled out of the lot.
“It’s 9:00 on October 2nd and you’re listening to Y104, Chicago’s number one station for news you can use. It’s looking like a wet one out there tonight, so don’t forget your umbrella.”
“Very helpful,” Olivia said as she turned onto Broadway and headed north.
Olivia wasn’t a big driver, and living in Chicago meant she didn’t have to use her car very often. But on Tuesday nights, she taught a night class at Randolph University and she usually didn’t get done until after 9:00. Olivia wasn’t big on public transportation after dark. Besides, it was October 2nd _ not a day to tempt the shadows that lurked in the dark.
Y104’s top requested song almost drowned out the ringing of Olivia’s cell. She reached into her bag and checked to see who was calling. “Later, Nater,” she told the phone as she tossed it back into her bag.
The rain had turned traffic into a nightmare. Chicago drivers could easily navigate through a foot of snow, but a few raindrops created chaos on the roads. It took her almost thirty minutes to travel four miles. After circling her block three times, she finally found a parking spot and then had to run half a block to reach her apartment.
Olivia lived on the first floor of a courtyard building built in the 1960s. She had lived there two years and still didn’t know any of her neighbors, but she preferred it that way.
Dinner consisted of leftover Chinese food directly out of the container and a bottle of wine. Olivia was halfway through her third glass when her phone rang again.
“Hey, stud.” Olivia muted the television so Nate wouldn’t hear what she was watching. No need making him worry about her even more than he already did.
“Where the hell have you been Olivia?” Nate’s normally deep voice dropped an octave as he scolded her.
“It’s Tuesday night, Nate.” Olivia refilled her wine glass. “You know I teach a night class on Tuesdays.”
“I called you after nine. And I know you aren’t dedicated enough to your students to stick around after class.” Nate sighed into the phone. “It’s October 2nd, Liv. I was worried about you.”
Olivia’s sigh matched Nate’s. “I know. And I appreciate the concern. You’re a good friend, Nathaniel Tucker.”
“Damn straight.” Olivia heard the clang of ice dropping into a glass. Nate was pouring his nightly scotch, no doubt. “How you holding up? You need me to come over?”
“Not necessary. I’m fine.” Olivia usually loved having Nate around, but tonight she wanted to wallow in her misery alone. She pulled an old, knit blanket around her shoulders. “How was your day, dear?”
“Just fantastic.” Nate’s frown was practically audible. “Spent the day catching up on paperwork, and then when I stopped by to pick up my dry cleaning, I had the pleasure of running right into Candace.”
“Yikes.” Olivia grimaced. Nate and Candace had been divorced just over a year, and the parting had not been peaceful. “Any battle wounds?”
“Nothing physical.” A television clicked on and Olivia could hear Nate settling onto his leather couch. “She says hi, by the way.”
“I’m sure.” Olivia smirked at the thought.
She had been friends with Nate for 12 years. Always friends and nothing more. But when Nate had started dating Candace five years ago, his new girlfriend had been jealous of their relationship. She had gone so far as to give Nate an ultimatum- stop seeing Olivia or the relationship was over. Nate had sent her packing and it only took a week for Candace to come crawling back, begging for forgiveness. Eventually, Candace had come to accept that Olivia wasn’t going anywhere, but she certainly hadn’t been happy about it.
Olivia finished off her wine with a big gulp and realized that she was nice and buzzed. “Is Candy still blaming me for ending your marriage?”
“Who knows? She’s a psycho.” Nate cleared his throat, and Olivia knew he was uncomfortable. Candace had made it clear when she filed for divorce that she wasn’t interested in being the other woman, not-so-subtly implying that Olivia was the woman Nate really loved. It wasn’t true, at least not the way Candace meant, but it still bothered
Nate.
“True enough. And I would know- I have a degree in psychos.” Olivia smiled when Nate laughed. She loved the sound of his laugh.
“Yeah, you would know, Dr. Thompson. Studied any good psychopaths lately?”
“Besides your ex, no. I’ve been busy molding young minds.” She lowered her voice as she confessed, “I went through her file again today.”
Nate was quiet for a long time. “You really shouldn’t do that to yourself, Liv.”
“I know.” Olivia did know, but she couldn’t stop herself. “She was murdered fifteen years ago today, Nate. And they still haven’t found the killer.”
Nate’s end of the phone went quiet as he switched off the television. “You shouldn’t be alone tonight. Let me come over, Olivia.”
Olivia struggled to laugh off his suggestion. “How many times do I have to turn down your booty calls before you take the hint that I’m not interested?”
“Can’t you be serious for even a second?” Nate sounded annoyed.
“Not usually.” Olivia looked up as a quiet figure entered the room. “Nate, I appreciate the offer. I really do. But I just got good and sauced off a bottle of red wine, and now I’m going to bed. Your trip over here would be a waste.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. Finish your scotch and the baseball game. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Olivia scooted over on the couch to make room for her guest.
“Alright. Good night, Olivia.” Nate’s voice was faint as he switched the game back on. “Love you.”
“Love you, too, Nater.”
Olivia smiled softly as she hung up the phone. She always felt better after talking to her best friend, even if he was an insufferable ass sometimes.
“Barf. You two are disgusting.”
Olivia looked up quickly at her sister. “Don’t start, Rosie.”
“You two need to just get it on already. The sexual tension is suffocating.” Rosie coughed dramatically. “What did old Nate want anyway?”
“He was just checking on me. Wanted to make sure I was okay.” Olivia didn’t bother saying why he was worried about her in the first place. Of all people, Rosie knew the reason better than anyone.
“And are you? Okay, I mean?” Rosie narrowed her perfect blue eyes at Olivia.
“Most definitely not.” Olivia was sure of that. “It’s been fifteen years, Rosie.”
Rosie sighed loudly and fell back against the couch cushions. “You are such a drama queen. It’s just another day.”
“How can you say that?” Olivia looked at her sister, with her perfect blond hair and pouty red lips. It always hurt Olivia to look at Rosie too closely. To see her looking so perfect and know that it was all a lie was the worst form of torture. “It’s the anniversary of your murder, Rosie. It’s not just another day.”
“Murder anniversary? Really?” Rosie sat up quickly. “I’m dead, Liv. When are you going to accept that? You said it yourself- it’s been fifteen years. It’s time to move on.”
Olivia didn’t bother pointing out that it would be impossible to move on as long as Rosie kept visiting. Frankly, as odd as it was to talk to her dead sister, she couldn’t imagine life without Rosie in it.
“I really should lock myself up.” She laughed dryly and shook her head. “You’ve been dead fifteen years, and yet I’m sitting here talking to you, like you are real.”
“I am real, sis.” Rosie’s blue eyes clouded over with sadness. “I’m still me. And I’m still here.”
Olivia whispered the same question she had asked Rosie a hundred times over the years. “Why? Why are you still here?”
Rosie tilted her head and smiled. “I’m your big sister, silly. I could never leave you.”
Olivia blinked back the moisture that was pooling in her eyes. “I should get some sleep.”
“In a minute. Can we just watch a little first?” Rosie pointed at the paused television.
Olivia had been watching old family movies when Nate called. Clips from Olivia’s childhood that starred a vibrant and very much alive Rosie. It was something Olivia did every year on the anniversary, and as much as it hurt it also helped heal the wound that had never closed completely.
“Yes, let’s watch.” Olivia pressed play and Rosie’s laugh filled the room. It was surreal to watch her sister dancing around on the screen while sitting next to her ghost. It should’ve been enough to make Olivia check into a mental institution, but instead she closed her eyes and drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.
CHAPTER TWO
Nate Tucker squinted up at the sky before pulling on his sunglasses. It was an unusually warm October day for Chicago and he could feel the sweat beginning to build beneath his suit jacket. Dried leaves made loud crunching noises as he strode across the park.
“You’re quiet today,” Nate’s partner said. “Are you hung over?”
“We’re here to do a job, Vince. Not gossip and talk about our feelings.” Nate tried to ignore the twisting in his stomach. He always felt out of sorts when these types of calls came in.
Vincent Monroe knew better than to keep pushing. He had been Nate’s partner for just short of three months, but was well acquainted with his mood swings. “Did you see Olivia last night?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“No.” Nate frowned. Vince, and just about everyone else at the station, assumed Olivia was more than a platonic friend. He had long since given up arguing with them. “She teaches a night class on Tuesdays.”
“You think this is a case for her?” Vince gestured to the area of the park surrounded by police tape and wide-eyed police officers. Olivia’s expertise in criminal psychology meant that Nate was often hitting her up for advice when he had a particularly difficult murder case.
“Only one way to find out.” Nate approached the officer that seemed the least frazzled and held out his hand.
“Detective Tucker. This is Detective Monroe. Who is the lead here?” Nate noticed that the other man’s hand was damp as they shook.
“I’m Officer Conrad. I’m not really sure who is in charge around here, but I would assume you are now, Detective.” Officer Conrad smiled weakly.
“What have we got down there?” Nate nodded to the crime scene.
Officer Conrad twitched. “It’s ugly. Pretty young thing with her head bashed in. A runner found her just off the jogging path. The first men on the scene established the perimeter.”
“You talk to the runner?” Vince was making notes on a small notepad.
“Someone did.” Officer Conrad shrugged sheepishly. “It’s a bit of a clusterfuck right now. But don’t worry, we asked him to stick around. He’s over there.”
“Thanks. We’ll take it from here, Officer.” Nate shook his hand again and then ducked under the police tape. He could feel eyes following him, but he stared straight ahead.
He stopped several yards away from the body. Normally his thoughts would be focused, carefully piecing together the clues and evidence. But once Nate’s eyes found the victim, all of his training vanished and he had only one thought in his brain- he had to find Olivia.
But he couldn’t do that just yet. He had work to do.
He snapped on gloves while circling the victim. Kneeling next to the body, he surveyed the fatal wound. The young woman had been hit in the back of the head by a blunt object. It was brutal, but it was nothing compared to the rest of her.
The body had been positioned on its back with her hands folded on her stomach. Her dark hair had been framed carefully around her face, most of it matted with blood. She was wearing a heavy layer of make-up, carefully applied.
“She didn’t die here,” Nate said, pointing out the obvious. None of her blood had soaked into the Earth. “If I had to guess, I’d say she was also sexually assaulted.”
“What makes you say that?” Vince looked doubtful.
“The styling, strategic placement… it all screams sexual fetish.”
Vince shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe the murderer wa
s just a neat freak.”
“We’ll wait for the coroner report.” Nate knew that he was right, but he needed more than just his hunch. He needed to talk to Olivia.
When he stepped onto the Randolph University campus four hours later, he was even more troubled. Nothing at the crime scene had given him a solid lead on who might have committed the murder. Interviewing the runner that had found the body proved equally fruitless. And the autopsy on the victim wasn’t scheduled until the next morning. The only positive turn of events was that they had been able to identify the body- Karen Collins.
Vince was back at the station compiling as much information as he could on Karen. Nate should be doing the same thing, but he had to talk to Olivia first.
The campus was packed with young kids hurrying to class or soaking up some sun in the quad. Nate noticed that several of the females were eyeing him openly, but he ignored them. It wasn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence. Nate was a good looking guy. He had gotten lucky in the genetic lottery and while he had enjoyed the easy conquests in his teens and twenties, now that he was in his thirties he found the attention more embarrassing than anything else.
Olivia’s classes were all in Randolph Hall and Nate was able to easily track down her lecture hall. The room was large, with stadium seating and nearly every seat had a young body in it. Nate smiled knowingly as he quietly slid through the door in the back of the room and settled into one of the only empty chairs on the aisle. The first three rows of the room were almost all males.
Olivia stood at the front of the class, talking animatedly with swinging arms. She looked stunning in her sophisticated black dress. Nate regularly teased her for her mature clothing choices, but he knew that she chose her wardrobe carefully. She was barely thirty years old, but looked five years younger and she was teaching a room full of twenty-somethings. If she wanted them to treat her like a professor, she had to look the part. But no matter how matronly she tried to dress, she couldn’t cover up her beauty.
As she paced the width of the room, her long, toned legs made graceful strides and her blond hair fluttered slightly. Several of the guys in the front row leaned forward as she headed in their direction, only to sigh and lean back when she turned the other way. Nate wondered if any of them were actually listening to her lecture.