Itsy Bitsy Spider (Emma Frost #1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

might be murder. Nothing
deeper than that. No details.
    "Guess it's not that big a story when an
old woman dies," I mumbled and looked out the window.
    I spotted Jack doing yard work across the
street, still wearing that beanie of his covering his hair and I wondered if he
might be going bald underneath. I picked up my binoculars and couldn't help but
chuckle watching him. He somehow reminded me a little of Victor, the way he
seemed to be in his own world of some sort. I saw him run inside, then come
back with a tray between his hands. She must have been there the whole time,
but I just hadn't noticed until now, that he was handing her the tray with
food. A woman in a wheelchair. I observed her as he started feeding her with a
spoon. The food ran out of her mouth again and like with a small child he
scraped it of her chin and forced it back in. He said something to her, she
didn't respond. Then she lifted her hand and planted it directly on top of the
bowl causing it to tip and the food to spill. Jack stood up and started wiping
it off.
    How old was this woman? I wondered. She didn't
look very old. Was she his wife?
    I put the binoculars down and decided it was
enough snooping on the neighbors for today. I turned to the computer and
scrolled in the articles some more. Nothing much about Mrs. Heinrichsen, a
small portrait of a woman who had been very important to the locals on the
island, known to have been a big contributor to the local church. She and her
husband had raised the money to renovate it back in the eighties when it was
falling apart and there was no money. I sighed and leaned back in my chair. If
I was to write a book about this, then I needed something more. I needed the
dirty details. And I knew exactly how to get that.
    Before I met the father of my children I had
once dated this guy who was a hacker. He could get in everywhere and he taught
me a little too, something I up until now had only done for fun and to keep up
to date. But now for the first time I wanted to use it for my own benefit. It
was illegal as hell, but I knew how to do it without getting caught. So after
about an hour of trying I managed to hack into the police files at the local
police station. Not that it was protected very well, I admit to that, but it
was still part of a nationwide system that the police used everywhere. I found
the report Officer Dan had written and opened it. I started reading. The
station had received a call at ten past seven a.m. and Officer Dan had
responded. A man working for Mrs. Heinrichsen was supposed to drive her to the
mainland to meet with her lawyer and when she didn't come out on her own he
feared that something might have happened to her, that she might have fallen
and hurt herself. But nothing had been able to prepare him for what he saw, he
said in the statement.
    I opened the pictures from the scene of crime
attached and looked. What I saw made my stomach turn. The remains of an old
woman lying on her bed. It looked like she had been cut open. On the wall
behind her the killer had written the number four in blood. I covered my mouth
with my hand as I read the forensics' report. She had bled to death in her bed.
Apparently some of the woman's organs were missing. The liver, the lungs and
the heart had been cut out and removed. The forensics believed it had been done
while the woman was still alive.
    I leaned back and studied the pictures. I felt
nauseated by the thought of her still being alive while this was done. I could
hardly imagine the pain and to think it had happened right down the street from
me? Why wasn't it mentioned in the papers? I couldn't stop thinking why her
organs had been removed. Why would anyone want to cut out her organs? To sell
them? Yes, organs could be worth a lot on the black market, but she was an old
woman? Why choose her and not a young person with fresh, new organs?
    It didn't make sense.
     

11
2012
    A couple of
weeks later I bought that bottle of wine and went
across the