Killer Legacy (Ch 1)

Chapter One

Saint Paul, Minnesota

The Present

Twenty-one-year-old Sarah Royston was sitting on her couch alone while a thunderstorm was raging outside.

Most people would not be watching a bloody, gory horror show on the TV alone on a stormy night, but Sarah wasn't most people and she'd seen enough blood and gore to last a lifetime.

As she watched Michael Myers hunting for his niece in the fourth Halloween film, she felt her throat tighten and her heart quicken. She'd watched hundreds of movies, many of them horror, but she never felt more connected to any of the characters in those films except young Jamie Lloyd, a young girl hunted by a killer who just won't seem to go away.

Watching Jamie Lloyd fell down a flight of stairs with her murderous uncle bearing down on her, Sarah felt the girl's mounting panic. Just as Myers was about to make his move, a loud shrill rang through the air at the same time a particularly loud roar of thunder sounded outside.

Sarah nearly jumped out of her skin and screamed loudly, just as Jamie's step-sister Rachel swooped in to save Jamie. She took a deep breath and reached for the source of the ringing, her cell phone on the end table next to the couch. Looking at the caller ID, she saw that it was her father, making his one hundredth call of the day, it felt like.

“Hello?” she answered tiredly. She grabbed the remote and turned the volume on her TV.

“Hey honey,” Adam Royston replied. “Just calling to see how you're doing.”

“I told you two hours ago that I was doing fine, Dad,” Sarah said, her voice softening a bit as she set the remote down.

“I know, but I also know that this is a distressing day for all of us, but most of all you. I worry about you being home alone tonight. There's a nasty storm going on right now and your neighborhood-”

“Is a neighborhood with lots of people nearby if I need something, Dad,” Sarah interrupted. “It was my choice to stay home tonight, just like it's my choice to move out in two weeks. Is the place in New York set up yet?”

“Yes, it'll be ready for you.” There was a short pause. “Honey, I feel like there's something you're not telling me. Why the sudden urge to move back to New York? It's not like I'm not happy you're moving back, because I tried to get you to go to college out here, but the way you sounded on the phone . . . Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“No, Dad, I'm not,” Sarah lied, glancing nervously around the room. “I'm just ready to come back. I have my credits worked out and everything; they'll transfer to the college I'll be enrolling in for fall semester.”

“Well, I wish you'd thought twice about staying home tonight and not going out with your friends,” Adam said reprovingly.

“Dad, it's eight o'clock at night, thirteen years later, and I'm still here.” Sarah rolled her eyes as she stood up. “I think if I was going to be kidnapped and tortured or killed, the Grim Reaper would've come for me by now.” She entered her kitchen and went to the fridge and pulled out her half gallon of rice milk.

“Honey, please don't be flippant about this,” Adam said in a firm voice.

Sarah sighed. “I'm sorry, Dad. But there is nothing for you to worry about.”

“This is the first year that you're alone . . . Of course I'm going to worry,” Adam said quickly. “I don't think I'll be able to sleep until tomorrow morning when the sun comes up and I hear your voice.”

“Then I will call you first thing in the morning when the sun comes up,” Sarah promised. “But I'm going to get ready for bed. I'll keep my phone by me, okay? If you can't sleep, try to get some work done.” She took a deep breath as she looked out the window above the sink at the downpour outside.

“I know I can be overbearing and nagging, but just know that I love you, Sarah.”

Sarah smiled into the phone, turning away from the window. “I love you too, Dad. Good night.” She hung up the phone and set it on the counter before moving over to the cupboard where the cups were stored and poured herself a glass of almond milk. Downing the milk in one gulp, she put the cup in the sink and let the water run to rinse it out as she went to the downstairs bathroom and turned on the shower.

As she was leaving the bathroom, she froze for a moment, listening. She thought she heard a sound, like footsteps. Feeling a chill run through her body, she went back to the kitchen to get her cell phone but found that it was missing from the spot where she had set it on the counter and the faucet in the sink was turned off.

Heart beating fast, she whirled around toward the back hallway where she had just come from and screamed at the site of an intruder standing at the kitchen threshold in a long black coat with a grey skull mask with red roses around the cut out of the eyes and painted red tears going down the cheeks.

Sarah turned and ran to the front door. She cursed as she grabbed the door handle and tried to yank the door open, but it wouldn't budge and she suddenly remembered that it was locked and she unlocked it in a frenzy and felt an enormous sense of relief as she threw the door open and stepped outside towards freedom, only to feel a hand grab a tight grip on her hair and yank her back inside before the door was slammed shut.

Three hours later, Detective Marshall Mears pulled up to the curb a few houses down from Sarah's house and got out of the car. It was still pouring out, but unfortunately, he wasn't able to park any closer with all the cruisers and crime scene unit vehicles that had gotten there before him so he kept his head down as he trudged up the sidewalk to Sarah's front porch, which was outside of the house, but was sheltered with a roof. He saw two young women in their early twenties standing off to the far side of the porch, hugging themselves as they wore police windbreakers over their shoulders to get warm.

His partner, Detective Oliver Grant, was standing outside the front door, speaking to a crime scene tech. Once he saw Mears approaching, he said something to the tech and then stepped away as the tech went into the house.

“Catch me up,” Mears said as he came to stand next to Oliver, peering inside the house.

Standing side by side, the two detectives could not have looked more different. Mears was big fitness guru, looking like a cross between a footballer and a model at six foot one, two hundred and thirty pounds of muscle with his shoulder length blonde hair pulled back into a little ponytail, to highlight his brown eyes and chiselled, hard bone features, giving him an untraditionally handsome face.

One the other end of the spectrum, Grant was a shorter five foot seven, with a little pudge in the middle due to his affinity for comfort food, and with his black hair in a razor cut, with a thin face that was more plain than handsome. He most likely would've packed on more weight, but he had twin toddler boys, and two young daughters that he chased after at home, in addition to his wife's recent pledge to raise their children in a healthier lifestyle.

“Twenty-one-year-old Sarah Royston was last seen four hours ago by her roommates before they left to go out with some friends. According to them, Sarah decided to stay in because she had to work tomorrow morning and she wasn't really a clubber anyway. They came home a little bit ago, found the front door wide open, the house a mess, and no sign of Sarah.”

“Ladies, this is my partner, Detective Mears,” Grant said, motioning for the girls to walk to them. “This is June Dallas and Alice Windsor,” he added. “The victim's roommates. They come home and found the place like this,” he said, motioning to the inside of the house.

Mears nodded a greeting to them as they approached, noting that they were pretty girls. Both had the windbreakers hanging over their shoulders so he was able to get a look at what they were both wearing. June's voluptuous hourglass figure was squeezed into a red mini dress and her black hair rolled up in a tight little bun on the top of her head and sporting simple black heels and clutching a little black purse. Alice's curly blonde hair was kept parted to the side with a gold hair clip and was wearing short little tank top that showed off her nicely toned stomach and matching mini skirt and was holding gold clutch.

“You ladies have a good night?” he asked. “You’re home pretty early. It’s not even midnight yet.

“It was pretty dead tonight,” June said in a shaky voice. “No one wanted to come out in the rain.”

“What was the occasion?”

“It was my cousin’s birthday.”

“Sarah and your cousin not friends or something?” Mears asked skeptically. “Was she not invited?”

“Sarah doesn’t like clubs,” June replied quickly, looking defensive. “She never explained why; it’s just not her thing. She gets along great with my cousin though, and she was invited.”

“If you’re looking for a suspect, I’ve got a name for you,” Alice jumped in. “Warren Pelt.”

“Who is Warren Pelt?” Mears asked.

“Sarah’s ex-boyfriend that she dumped about a month ago,” June explained. “He’s the only one I can think of with any reason to hurt her.”

“Do you guys have any contact information for this Warren Pelt?” Grant asked. “Even better; do you know where we can find him?”

“We don’t have his number . . .” Alice replied slowly, shaking her head.

“He’s still living on campus at the U because he’s taking summer classes,” June said quickly. “We hung out with him handful of times, but only because he was dating our roommate. We’re not friends with him or anything.”

“And did this Warren Pelt get your stamp of approval to date Sarah?”

The girls glanced at each other and shrugged.

“He wasn’t anything special in my opinion,” June said.

“And Sarah obviously didn’t think so either because she dumped him after she cheated on him with another guy,” Alice chimed in.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, go back a step there,” Mears said. “Did he know that Sarah was cheating on him?”

They nodded in unison.

“Sarah told us she was upfront with him about it because she felt really bad and owed it to him to tell him the truth,” June said. “She wanted to ‘do the right thing’ I guess,” she added, making the quote sign with her fingers.

“I told her she was dumb for that,” Alice said. “All she had to do was tell him she didn’t like him anymore. I heard he was really pissed off about it.”

“Well you’d be pissed off too if you found out your girlfriend cheated on you and then just left you high and dry,” June said with a defensive tone.

“Ladies, ladies, ladies,” Grant said quickly. “Your place is a crime scene right now and you can’t sleep here tonight.”

“We don’t want to sleep here anyway,” Alice said with a shrug.

“Can I call my cousin to come pick us up?” June asked.

“Yeah, just do it over there,” Mears said, waving them away dismissively toward the side of the porch where they were standing before he’d arrived. “Actually, just tell her we’ll drop you off,” he called after them.

“So we need to send a unit over to the campus and track down this Warren Pelt guy,” Grant muttered. “I’ve also got someone working on getting contact information for the family to notify them.”

“Actually, I have the family's contact information and I’ve already notified her father.”

Mears and Grant turned to see a woman in her mid-thirties walk up the porch steps. She was wearing a brown rain jacket with hood, and a black laptop bag draped across her front.

She came to stand in front of them and pulled her hood back, revealing her shocking red hair.

“Who are you and how did you get in here?” Mears asked suspiciously.

The woman reached into one of the pockets of her jacket, pulled out a wallet, and opened it to reveal an FBI badge. “Special Agent Jenna Larsen,” she said, putting the wallet back in her pocket.

“We didn't call the FBI in on this,” Grant said, confused. “The first responders just got to this crime scene less than an hour ago.”

“I know,” Jenna said, nodding. “But I happen to be familiar with Sarah Royston.”

“Is she involved in any active cases with the FBI?” Mears asked, wondering if that was the motive for Sarah's abduction.

“It's more than that; Sarah has a very dark past that appears to have caught up with her.”

Westminster, Minnesota

Thirteen Years Earlier

“Mommy! I can't find my Sleeping Beauty dress!” eight-year-old Sarah yelled as she pulled out the bottom drawer of her big dresser.

Camille Royston’s size six, short stature figure appeared in Sarah's doorway with a smile on her face. Camille wasn’t generally considered ‘beautiful’ with her long black hair wrapped up in a tight bun behind her hair, and her brown eyes, and round cheeks, but she was considered pleasant and pretty, which accompanied her kind and charitable personality.

Now, she stood in front of her daughter, holding up the missing dress with one hand.

The dress had a comfortable knit top, black velvet bodice, and mauve china silk skirt with whimsical detailing, and in the other hand, she held the black satin bow to complete her daughter’s outfit. She had bought the dress as a gift for Sarah to wear on Halloween when she was six and Sarah had been obsessed with it ever since.

“Oh I wonder where it could be,” Camille said in a sing song voice.

Sarah’s head jerked up and she pushed her wavy, shoulder length blonde hair behind her ears and smiled widely as her hazel eyes lit up and she raced to her mother.

“I was keeping it safe for you,” Camille said, smiling as she handed her daughter the bow.

“Thank you, Mommy!” Sarah cried happily, plopping the bow promptly on her head.

“I’ll go start the popcorn while you put this on,” Camille said. She walked around Sarah and laid the dress gingerly on Sarah’s full-size bed, which was covered with a large, pink blanket with the first three Disney princesses, Snow White, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty. At the head of the bed laid three pink pillows with the images of the different animal characters from each of the movies the princesses were first featured in.

“Don’t start the movie until I get into the living room!” Sarah ordered sternly as she followed her mother.

“A Disney Princess marathon wouldn’t be complete without my Sleeping Beauty,” Camille gushed as she leaned own and kissed Sarah’s forehead. She ran her hand through Sarah’s forehead and gave a little tug on the bow of her black hair band before she pulled her hand away and straightened up. “I’ll see you in a few minutes, and I promise I won’t start the movie without you.” She turned and walked out of the room while Sarah turned back to the dress and snatched it up, hugging it tightly.

Camille gingerly pulled the cardboard cover off the Jiffy Pop pan and checked to make sure the foil wasn’t penetrated or dented. After the pan passed her inspection, she set it on top of the electric stove top, which she had preheat a few moments before.

She turned away from the stove and moved over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine she had bought at the Westminster Spirits store earlier that day and set it on the counter. Her husband Adam had taken their two sons, six-year-old Joshua and five-year-old Kevin, out for a boys night of camping at the local campgrounds while Sarah had used the opportunity to demand a Disney Princess marathon, something she rarely got to do with having two younger brothers who weren’t interested in anything ‘princess’ whatsoever, so Camille had made sure to pack Sarah’s favorites: Sleeping Beauty, The Little Mermaid, Snow White, and even though Esmeralda wasn’t considered a Disney Princess, Sarah had demanded The Hunchback of Notre Dame as well.

As she pulled open one of the kitchen drawers to retrieve the corkscrew, she froze and looked up at the backdoor. She thought she’d heard a noise on the back porch.

Taking a deep breath, she reached over to the knife block and pulled out the biggest knife and slowly tip toed to the door. She placed a sweaty hand on the door handle and closed her eyes for a few seconds, counting to three in her head before she opened them and threw the door open. She stepped out onto the porch with the knife in her hand raised and ready to strike, her heart beating faster and faster as every second passed.

She looked around the porch into the yard beyond it but saw nothing besides trees. No movement, no strange sounds, just crickets chirping in the darkness.

As she sighed in relief, she let her hands hang down at her side, with the knife suddenly feeling heavy. She turned around and walked back into the house and shut the door, then locking all three locks before she turned to the counter and set the knife down.

“Jesus, Camille,” she muttered to herself as she leaned against the counter. “She’s gone. The Blood Rose Slayer is dead and she’s not coming back.”

Sarah raced into the living room just as Camille was setting a large bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.

“Popcorn!” Sarah said gleefully as she grabbed a handful and began stuff her mouth, with crumbs falling on the floor.

“Sarah!” Camille said reproachfully. “You’re getting popcorn everywhere! A princess doesn’t eat like a caveman.” She gave her a daughter a stern look before she picked up the DVD remote from the table and pressed the play button.

“I’m sorry Mommy,” Sarah said regretfully. She looked around the floor and began picking up the crumpled popcorn pieces.

Camille smiled as she bent down and gently pulled her daughter up by the arm. “Don’t worry sweetie, I’ll vacuum it up in the morning. Let’s watch the movie.”

Sarah was watching Princess Aurora dancing with Prince Philip in the forest, singing her favorite song, Once Upon A Dream.

“Mommy?” Sarah said, her eyes fixed on the screen as the song ended.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think I’ll ever find a prince?” she asked.

Camille smiled. “Of course! You’re a princess, remember? That’s what your name means. Princess.”

“And his name will be Philip? And he’ll speak like the people from England?”

Camille laughed. “I don’t know if his name will be Philip, or if he’ll speak like an Englishmen, but I’ll make sure he walks and talks like a prince, and treats you like a princess. How does that sound?”

Sarah contemplated it for a moment as she watched Aurora and Prince Philip part ways. “That’s fine. But I want him to look like Prince Philip.” She pointed to the screen. “And he has to know how to ride horses so we can ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after.”

Camille nodded approvingly. “You know that Princess Aurora and Prince Philip don’t ride out into the sunset though, right? The movie ends with them dancing the fancy dance in the fancy ballroom on their wedding night.”

“With their mommys and daddys watching from their thrones.” Sarah shrugged. “Both endings are happy endings. You and Daddy are going to be watching me dance the fancy dance. What’s it called again?”

“The waltz,” Camille said quietly. “It’s called the waltz.”

“I want to go to England and do the waltz with Prince Philip,” Sarah announced. She looked up at her mother and was surprised to see a startled expression on her face.

“What’s wrong, mommy?”

Camille cleared her throat with a little shake of her head. “Honey, why are you so interested in England now?”

“Because they have princesses and princes there,” Sarah said. “And I’ve been there.”

Camille frowned. “What did you say?”

Sarah shifted so that she could face her mother now. “When I was a baby, you took me there.”

Camille shook her head, numbed by a sense of dread. “Honey, I never took you to England. Where did you get that idea?”

“The man at the library.”

Camille looked perplexed. “The man at the library?”

“I met him today. When you were in the bathroom, a man was walking by my table and saw the book you were reading about Princess Diana and Buckingham Palace. He said he thinks you should have some pictures of me at Buckingham Palace from when I was a baby.”

“That I have pictures of you at Buckingham Palace?”

Sarah nodded. “He said, “I remember seeing pictures of you and your mommy at Buckingham Palace when you were just a baby.”

Camille opened her mouth but before she could speak, there was a loud knock on the front door.