Crimes Of Murder Page 2

said strongly with a laugh.

  “Soon!”

  “I can’t wait.”

  “Boo, I’m going now. I’ll call you if I need you,” she said firmly.

  “Be careful and I love you!” he said strongly.

  “Child, I love you too,” she snapped and hung up.

  Mrs. Day was traveling enroot for highway I-80 West to Sacramento. There was much snow on the freeway. There were several folks along the side of the highway standing by their wrecked and stalled vehicles, waiting for help. When she got midway down the freeway, she'd to stop behind a lengthy line of vehicles. Traffic had been backed up for a couple of hours due to accidents. When she finally gotten to the toll bridge, there was clearly a roadblock as a result of The Shoestring Killer. The snowfall continued to come down. It made it difficult to see the road. She utilized her Windshield wipers and defroster for better visibility.

  The Reno police detectives George Enright and Dave Mart acquired The Shoestring Killers’ sheet in front of them. They spent a considerable amount of time studying it. They focused on his childhood and teenage years for a while. In addition, his adult hood up to now. Newspaper clipping were crucial to them too. They were searching for patterns and places he might prefer to visit, but weren’t sure, knowing what the cops know from his past, if he’d change his ways since then. Currently, he may have changed his patterns. Mr. Kirk Evans had a lot of time to rethink his strategy, being in that loony bend for so long. The cops had every family member and friend stakeout just encase.

  Mrs. Day spotted a lot of snowy hills with hardly any cattle. There was lot of SUV’s with skies on them. Furthermore, there were many folks stranded on the highway waiting for assistances. There were several accidents. There were folks forced to chain up. There had been several tow trucks trying to pull vehicles out of the snow.

  Mrs. Day stopped at Murphy’s Market to purchase some eggs, milk, bread, beef, vegetables, butter and some chicken, oil, matches, a flashlight, some candles and a couple bottles of red wine.

  “So where ya from?” Murphy inquired strongly in a croaking voice. He was a rickety old man.

  “Man, I come up from Reno,” Mrs. Day said sharply with a smile.

  “A nice place,” he said strongly with a laugh, bagging her groceries. “Don’t get up that way to much anymore.”

  “Is the skiing good this year?” she asked strongly with a smirk.

  “Couldn’t be better,” he stated sharply having a smile. “We got a big snowfall overnight. You’re a tall woman. Are you one of those models?”

  “Hell no,” she snapped.

  “Are you staying up in those cabins?” he asked firmly.

  “Yes!” she snapped.

  “But you’re alone. Not cool for a woman like you,” he said strongly with regret.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine,” she said sharply.

  “Be careful,” he snapped. “The shoestring killer is definitely loose.”

  “Don’t worry, sir,” she said sharply. “Baby, I can take care of myself.”

  “You look like you maybe able to,” Mr. Murphy said strongly, grinning.

  It took Mrs. Day an hour simply to get up to the cabin, and another hour to fine it. The snow had been coming down hard and visibility was very bad. Her cabin was covered with snow. Snow appeared to be six feet high in some places. She brought her baggage inside when she spotted a tall black man, standing by her vehicle. He dressed in a blue ski outfit.

  “Oh, my God,” she stated strongly, swallowing dryly. “What the hell are you doing standing there? Man, you frightened me!”

  “I’m sorry, Miss,” he said strongly with regret. “My name is James Parmley.”

  “Dude, I don’t care who you are. Get lost,” she snapped. “Sneaking up on people like that you’ll get your butt killed, baby.”

  “Hey, Dog, I live a couple of cabins down,” he said strongly with a grin. “Let me help you with your bags. A fly-looking sister like you shouldn’t have to struggle.”

  “No, I don’t need your help bro-bro, but thanks,” she said sharply, snapped up the rest of her bags, went inside, and slammed the door. She left his standing out there.

  All the furnisher was made of oak wood. It had been freezing inside. Mrs. Day immediately started a fire and made coffee. She bundled up in the chair. Just before she got settle in good, there was a hard knock on the door. When she opened it, a Sheriff stood there. He was around five-foot-eight and Spanish.

  “What do you want, dog?” She asked bluntly.

  “Hey, Miss, I’m Sheriff Alonso Leon,” he stated sharply with a smile.

  “So,” she said snugly. “Just because I’m black you think I’ve done something bad.”

  “No, that’s not it at all,” he said strongly. “May I come in?”

  Mrs. Day stared at him skeptically then stepped aside and he came in. She closed the door behind.

  “Hey, mama, it feels much better in here,” Mr. Leon said strongly with a laugh. “Once that fire starts going real good, it will be even better.”

  “Sheriff...will you get to the point,” Mrs. Day said brazenly.

  “Can I have some coffee?” the sheriff asked firmly.

  She poured him a cup.

  “I had noticed you come up by yourself. Dog, I simply wanted to check up on you. If you didn’t realize already there's a killer on the loose. So I’m making my rounds, baby,” he said strongly, and sipped his coffee.

  “Dog, I appreciate you, sir. But I’m fine,” she said firmly.

  “I can see that mamacita,” he said strongly with a smile and sipped his coffee.

  “You just want to kiss my lips!” she said harshly.

  “Bruh, I would like that very much,” he said strongly with a laugh.

  “Don’t you've other things to do?” Mrs. Day said firmly.

  “Oh yes,” he said strongly as he set the cup on the table. “Nice meeting you. Keep the doors and windows locked.”

  He soon started for the door. He opened up it, turned to face her. “Yo, baby, I really hope we’ll see each other once again.” He turned around and strolled out the door.

  The Shoestring Killer struck once again. The law discovered a young black girl, around sixteen by a Safeway parking area lifeless. Her delicate kind eyes stared in fear into the white sky, and her tongue stuck out like a dog and a shoestring had been left wrapped tightly around her neck. They identified another body of a food server from the Paradise Hotel gambling establishment, her body was lying down in an alley by the Reno Casino.

  James Parmly continued to annoy Mrs. Day by sending her a bunch of roses and chocolates. She finally gave in and made a decision to go on a ski date with him.

  They reached the slopes at noon the next day. They moved swiftly straight down a steep hill, weaving back and forth to avoid smashing into trees. They had been crazy, leaping off big hills, yet landed safely each time. There were a lot of other skiers too. Old and young. But none were black. They skied right up until it started to get dark. But even then the snow had been so vivid, it was just like a beacon. But they were worn out too and hungry.

  Mrs. Day and Mr. Parmly stopped in the Seacrest restaurant. They were eating crab and having white wine. She got a real good look at Mr. Parmly he was obviously an attractive dude. He was a tan skinned black man, with hazel eyes and wavy reddish hair, an Adonis face and an iron muscled physique. She talked about her husband Walter.

  “Bruh, he was hella scandalous, girl,” he said sharply.

  “Lord...That’s why I killed that punk! I’m going to live the rest of my life in luxury. Don’t get me wrong there were good times too,” she explained strongly.

  “Yeh,” he said strongly, cracking open a crab leg.

  “Are you married?” she snapped.

  “If I was would I be here with you?” he said strongly.

  “Well you know what I mean,” she said sharply.

  “I was. But my wife died in a skiing accident,” he said sadly as he chewed on a cra
b leg.

  “I’m sorry, bro-bro,” she said with a despairing look. “You must have loved her.”

  “Baby, I did,” he said strongly, sipping wine.

  “Brother, I like you,” she said softly. “But I want to take it gradual.”

  “Hey, boo, I value that,” he stated strongly. “Me too. Baby, I didn’t expect you to leap into bed with me this soon.”

  “Why is a fly-looking brother like you alone?” she asked firmly as she sipped her wine.

  “I haven’t found a woman to replace her,” he said calmly.

  “I can’t replace her,” she said strongly as she chewed on a mouthful of crabmeat.

  “I know. I don’t expect you to,” he said strongly.

  “Where are from?” she asked.

  “I’m from Chicago,” he said.

  “Why did you come way over here?” she asked firmly.

  “Lord, I needed to get away. I needed to forget,” he stated sharply. “Besides, I love to come to Nevada to ski. Dog, I’m one of very few black folks that do. But that’s surely not the real reason.

  “Dog, I know baby,” she said calmly. “People stare at me every time I come to this joint. Bruh, I’m like the only person with black skin here. I learned to ski because my husband was a great skier. But that’s not the main reason I come either. He’s an extremely rich man. And his kids, They’re fighting me. They believe I killed him. They had been never cool about their father marrying me because I’m black. You feel me?”

  “Yeh, baby. I hear where you coming from,” he stated firmly.

  They discussed their childhoods, jobs, and laughed a lot. They drank three bottles of wine. They got hella tore up. And left.

  Mrs. Day enjoyed him