April 1990

Narrator's POV

Jasmine Athletics is a sport apparel retail store chain throughout North America. Their target demographic are athletes, so they sell workout gear and clothes for all sorts of sweaty pursuits. They're most popular for their yoga pants, as well as their comfortable bike shorts.

Heather Marks had been working as a manager at Jasmine Athletics for years. She had her blonde hair pulled back in a swaying high pony-tail, and she was showing off the newest yoga pant with brand new technology woven into the fabric where it is efficient at drying quickly and wicking away at sweat, while still staying soft and cool. Paired with white leg warmers and a bright colorblock purple and blue windbreaker, she was ready for the busy day.

With lemon slices bouncing in her iced water bottle, she walked through the outdoor Metropolis Shopping Plaza on a warm spring morning. The sun was shining, but it wasn't late enough in the day for the sun to have completely warmed up the entire city yet. The Plaza had many customers already roaming the grounds, waiting for stores to finally open for them.

Heather walked up to the large glass doors to prepare to open her store, however, she found that the front door was already unlocked. A little frown tilted her lips, because the door should still have been locked from the night before. She recalled that Lisa Scott was scheduled to close the night before, someone that Heather was very fond of due to her reliable nature and likability. It was hard for her to believe that she had forgotten.

Heather opened up the door and her eyes grew as wide as saucers at the mess she walked into. Fixtures had been toppled over, clothes were scattered all over the floor, expensive water bottles had been spiked to the ceramic floor and severely dented, hooks had been ripped out from the walls, and almost every mirror had been completely shattered. The entire store was a chaotic mess.

Heather immediately assumed that someone had broken into the store to trash the place, and knew that she was going to have to make a report and hopefully try to figure out how many items were stolen. Since this was located in an outdoor mall, she found it troubling that anyone could have walked off the street and into her store.

Trying to step around the horrific mess of her store, she tried to head to the back door where they have their back-stock, the restrooms, as well as all their offices and employee lockers. She opened the door and a little bell chimed. She took a few steps into the hallway before she froze in pure fear. The horror of what happened in the store seemed to have gotten physical, and escalated into extreme violence.

Heather was shaking as she looked down and she saw bloody footprints beneath her feet. She stood there, frozen. She couldn't even think, she was in so much shock. She nearly puked from the smell alone. It wasn't until she heard a small groan that she snapped back to the reality of the terrifying situation. She didn't even think to check out what that noise was, because she bolted to the front door.

Once Heather was out of the store, her mind was racing with what she saw and the horrific nature of what occurred in her store. The more she thought about it, the more the symptoms of shock began to leave her body. She began to hyperventilate, and she was pacing back and forth. She didn't know what to do. She knew that she had to call the authorities, but was not willing to go back into that store.

At that moment, Captain Adam Fuller was walking through the outdoor Plaza. He was on his way to his favorite shoe store to get a new pair of shoes before he had to report to work, and Jasmine Athletics was on his route. At first, he didn't pay much mind to Heather, until she turned around and he saw the look of terror on her distressed face.

Fuller approached her and calmly asked, "ma'am, are you all right?"

Heather had her hands laced together and against the back of her head to try to open her airway. Her face was pale and starting to get red again, and her eyes were filled with tears. "N-no. There—there's... um... someone broke in last night and there's something in my store. Someone is in the back."

"All right, all right," he said composedly. Fuller could hear the cracks in Heather's voice and knew that he had to step-in and help her. "I'm Captain Fuller, I'm a police officer. I'll go in and check, okay?"

Heather nodded and sniffed. "Okay, thank you."

"Stay here," he told her.

Fuller stepped into the store and he was also greeted with all the disarray. He thought it was obvious that someone had broken in, despite there being no damage to the glass doors. He surveyed the area and noticed all the damage that Heather initially saw when she first walked in too.

He stepped carefully around the scattered clothes and broken glass so the area could be as preserved as possible for when the officers come for the report. He slowly made his way to the back, where Heather had thought she heard someone. He slowly opened the door, where the haunting chime of the bell sounded to indicate the door opening.

Fuller has seen his fair share of horrific crime scenes, but this is the only one that has ever made his stomach turn. His face remained calm as he examined the narrow hallway. Hundreds of ominous bloody footprints scattered the ceramic floor, and the white walls of the hallway had blood splatters as high as six feet up.

Fuller walked deeper into the hallway, keeping to the right side of the floor to avoid messing up the footprints that could be used as evidence. The smell of rust and copper coins from all the blood was adding to the weight of the situation.

That's when Fuller saw two bodies on the floor.

One woman was laying face down on the ground in a pool of crimson blood at the end of the hallway. A heavy weighted toolbox had been smashed across her shoulders, and she was covered head to toe in the thick, red liquid.

The other was laying on her back on the floor of the women's restroom. Fuller could see obvious lacerations across her arms, hands, chest, as well as a long, leaking gash on her forehead. Her wrists and ankles and knees were bound together by zip ties, and there was a large cut through the crotch of her yoga pants, so Fuller unfortunately knew that there had been a sexual assault.

Fuller instantly raced to the woman face down in a pool of her own blood, and he cautiously knelt down beside her. Just by seeing her bashed and battered head, he knew that she was no longer alive. Her pale brain matter was exposed, and Fuller could see massive cracks in her skull. Without moving her, he put his fingers against her bloodied neck. She was cold, and he felt no pulse.

Fuller sighed softly, and closed his eyes to deliver a little prayer up for the poor woman. Just by looking at the injuries to her face and skull, Fuller could tell that she did not have a pleasant and easy death. The deep slashes on her hands and arms told him that she did not give up without a fight.

Without much hope, Fuller carefully stood up and walked over to the woman in the restroom. He squat down beside her and he checked her pulse as well. He closed his eyes, but then he felt a thump against his fingers.

Thump, thump.

Thump, thump.

Fuller's eyes shot open and he scanned the woman's body and saw labored breathing. He immediately stood up and rushed out of the hallway. He ran to the counter by the registers and he grabbed the phone. Dialing "9" first to call an outside line, he quickly called 9-1-1 for an ambulance to be sent for the woman. Once he knew that medical professionals were on their way, he called Captain Briody at Headquarters and told him about the tragic situation. Since the victims were young, Fuller reassured that his Jump Street officers would be on the case.

Mickey's POV

This gentle spring day had gotten me into a good mood. The sun was warming up the Metropolis air, and rainy days were hopefully behind us. Until fall, that is. Sunny days make me far more productive, so I made Tom and I some waffles before work the other day, and I even made some Caesar salad wraps for lunch from leftovers the night before. The more I cook for us, the better I've been getting. I have also been experimenting with a crock pot, and whenever Tom and I come to work, Doug makes jealous remarks about our appetizing lunches.

Despite the sun burning my eyes open, I was actually excited to start my day. When I made our lunches, I put Tom's sack in the fridge and decided to head to the chapel early. Tom likes to sleep in as much as possible, since he's a man he doesn't have to get up early to get ready like I do. I walked over to him and kissed his warm cheek and rested my hand on his sleepy head and rubbed his messy hair around a bit with my thumb.

"Mmhm?" He grumbled. The side of his face was pressed into his pillow, but his eyebrows raised and his eyes didn't open.

"I'm going to work," I told him in a quiet voice.

"W—mmuh?" He mumbled. I know that's Sleepy Tom talk for 'why'?

"I got a few things I gotta finish up on. I put your lunch in the fridge."

"Mm-uh."

"Love you."

"Love you," he mumbled.

I kissed him goodbye and headed to the chapel. It was so warm today, I didn't bother to put on a jacket over my white tank top and overalls. I put my sack in the fridge and planted myself at my desk. Despite getting there early, Blowfish was already there, jamming to music in his headphones from his Walkman while mopping the floor. He didn't notice me until he turned and I saw him get startled so bad he jumped. I grinned and sarcastically waved at him. He waved back and continued cleaning.

I kicked my feet up on my desk and used my jean-clad thigh as a surface to write out my neglected reports. Pretty soon, Judy, Ioki, and Tom came in.

Tom held his brown paper bag in his hand and he greeted me with a little grin. As he walked past me to get to the fridge, he swooped down to give me a kiss and said, "good morning."

"Morning. Sleep well?"

"Yeah, until I woke up and didn't see my lovely girlfriend next to me," he replied teasingly. He wore his favorite brown jacket, with a white shirt underneath. It's almost getting too hot for that jacket but he still wears it as often as he can.

"Sorry, I didn't have a chance to finish these last night and I wanted to start today off with a clean slate," I said.

Tom walked back to his desk and said, "I think you should just put them through the shredder. Out of sight, out of mind."

"I think that's a great idea," I chuckled and got back to work.

There was only a few more moments of peace when the chapel doors squeaked open and Doug's voice filled the room when he said, "wake up, daddy's home."

"Well, good morning to you too," Tom said back.

"I just had a great night last night," Doug beamed. He walked over to the coffee pot where Judy had just brewed a fresh pot and as he poured himself a mug, he said excitedly, "I scored two tickets to see the Metropolis Gators and the Gators won for the first time all season!"

"Who did you go with?" I asked. I had assumed that his night was with a girl. From his behavior, I would have guessed that he got laid last night. I seem to forget that guys get off at seeing their favorite sports teams win. Maybe it's both.

"My kid brother, Joey. It was real nice, we had hot dogs and cotton candy. Man, I love baseball season."

Alas, I was wrong.

"That swell." Tom smiled sarcastically. "I too had an amazing night last night."

I felt my eyes widen and my eyes darted in Tom's direction without moving my head. Without looking up from my papers, I hoped no one could see me blushing from sheer embarrassment at the mere thought that anyone knew what Tom was talking about.

"Oh, you went to see the Gator's last night too?" Doug asked excitedly, looking like he was ready to enthusiastically talk about the game.

Tom humorously dropped his smile and he shook his head. "No."

Doug finally got understood, I saw it click in his brain. "And y'all tell me to keep things to myself."

"Where is Fuller?" Ioki asked, breaking the conversation.

"Usually he is here by now," Judy added.

"He's not here yet?" Tom asked and he checked his watch.

"No, not yet," I said.

"You know how students can leave class when the teacher doesn't get there in fifteen minutes? What do officers do if their captain is absent?" Ioki asked.

"They play hookie and go to Lincoln Park," Doug stated.

I raised my eyebrows and everyone in the squad room seemed to have the same idea. I sincerely asked, "you guys want to?"

"I'm down," Ioki said.

"I've got some burger patty's at home that need to be fried," Doug pointed out.

"And I've got a football that needs to be tossed," Ioki stated.

"And I have a swim suit I need to break in," I added.

"And I have to see that." Tom pointed at me and his face broke into a smile from ear to ear when I started laughing.

"You guys are gross," Doug mumbled his playful taunt.

Having a picnic at the beach park in a sunny afternoon with the team sounded like a real fun time. It would add some zest to our rather bland life of just work and sleep. I looked over at the clock and noted that Fuller only needed to be gone for a few more minutes in order for us to be able to make our case against the fact that he never showed up for work.

The dreaded sound of the back door opening made us all snap our heads to the entrance. Fuller came walking in, and he shut the beautiful sun out behind him. All of us had small groans leak from our throats, but Fuller didn't seem to notice.

"Next time," Tom mumbled.

"Sorry I'm late guys, give me a couple minutes. I have to print your case," Fuller said and shut himself in his office.

I immediately took note of his tone of voice. Usually his voice is quite chipper in the mornings to motivate us, but now it was rather somber and grim. And, he always has our case files planned days—sometimes weeks—in advance. Why was he printing these now?

As soon as he gave us our case files, I understood why.

It occurred just this morning, but a young woman was found dead in an athletic-wear store down at the Metropolis Shopping Plaza. Not just dead, she was brutally murdered. I have never seen an attack as heinous as this one. Another woman who was attacked that night had survived, and she was rushed to the hospital.

"How did you know about this?" Ioki asked as he flipped to the next page.

"I was down there this morning to get a pair of shoes. I ran into the opening manager, and I offered to check the place out," he explained.

"And that's when you saw them?" Tom asked. He sat on top of his desk with his folder in his hands.

Fuller nodded solemnly. "Yeah. It's all hands on deck. I need these monsters found as soon as possible. The public is not safe until they are behind bars."

I turned a page and I got a run-down of the victims. The first, was Lisa Scott. She had been a manager at Jasmine Athletics since 1985, and she was just a few weeks shy of earning her graduate degree in education. She left behind a younger brother and a younger sister, as well as her parents over in Fairmont. She attended Evergreen State University, and her student I.D. photo was printed on the page. We went to the same school, that fact knotted my stomach. She had a bright smile, big and bouncy blonde hair with eyes that I knew were lively and blue, even though it was a black and white photograph.

The next page was all about Melissa Frank. She survived through the brutal attack, and was currently at Metropolis Hospital. She had four brothers and three sisters back at home, and she was the baby of her family. She made the deans list last year, and she was on track to receive her degree in sports management. The photograph showed a young woman with curly chestnut brown hair with endearing freckles that were sprinkled over her cheeks and her brown eyes had fixated to the camera.

"Why us?" Judy asked.

"Because they're students. They both attend Evergreen State University, so I think there might be a connection there," Fuller explained.

I turned to the next page, and a small pile of photographs fell out onto the desk. I put the packet down and gathered the photos in my hands and started to go through them. My lips parted in shock as I studied photographs of the crime scene, which included massive amounts of blood splattered on the walls, along with gruesome photographs of the lifeless body of Lisa Scott. I couldn't believe I was seeing photos of the same woman. She had such a promising and exciting future, and this was her fate.

Fuller said, "Gregg and Hanson, I want you two to head to the hospital and get Melissa's statement. Ioki and Judy, you two are going to go to Evergreen State to attend their classes. Doug... I'm going to have you push for that autopsy. I want it done this morning."

"Right on," Doug nodded and closed his folder.

"Okey-dokey," Tom said.

"You got it, coach," Ioki agreed.

We all stood up and collectively gathered our belongings for our departures. Tom waited for me so we could walk out together. We didn't have to communicate with each other for us to agree on him driving us both to the hospital in his Mustang.

When we arrived at the hospital, the first thing we did was introduce ourselves to the receptionist.

"Good morning, I'm Officer Hanson and this is my partner, Officer Gregg," Tom introduced us and we both flashed our badges simultaneously. "We are here to interview Ms Frank. She was admitted this morning."

By the empathetic look on her face, she knew exactly who we were there to see. She said, "she's in room 154. She just woke up, so you guys can go see her now."

"Thank you," Tom said.

We walked together briskly all the way down the hallway to the hospital room where we could see a young woman from a few of the photographs sitting up in the bed, sipping an apple juice box.

Tom opened the door for me, so I walked in first and smiled at her pleasantly. I showed her my badge and said the same thing that Tom said to the nurse. Then, I said, "I know it's going to be hard, but can you tell us everything you know from last night?"

Melissa sniffed and said, "I-I don't remember everything."

"That's okay. Just tell us as much as you can remember," I reassured.

She winced when she repositioned herself in her bed. Then, she looked at us with big eyes and began telling us what happened. "Lisa and I had already closed up and we were on our way out. But—but I forgot my wallet... so Lisa parked in front of the store and we went back. We couldn't find it. And just as we were leaving, two men showed up out of no where and attacked us." Like flicking on a light, Melissa turned inconsolable. She began shaking and sobbing, but continued to tell her story. "They... um... they wore black masks over their faces, but by their voices... I knew that they were white men. One was tall, one was short, they both wore all black... and one of them had a backpack. I know one of them had a zip-up jacket because his zipper made a whoosh sound."

Tom was in charge of writing down everything she was saying. While he was writing, I was consoling and avidly listening. I sat down in a chair beside her bed and held her hand as she relived the horrific events that occurred the night before. Her eyes gravitated to her upper right as she recalled these events, so I quickly glanced to see what she was looking at but I couldn't see anything. I brought my focus back to her and listened attentively to the rest of her story.

"One of them punched Lisa in the head, and the other dragged me back by my hair and started cutting me with a box cutter." She glanced down at her bandaged arms. "They were screaming at us... they called us whores. I was... I was raped on the bathroom floor while they were yelling racial slurs at me. He grabbed a wooden hanger and he... he did unspeakable things with that too. Then..." she took a breath "—then, he made me open the registers and all the safes, and I could hear a nightmare going on with Lisa in the back. I could hear her screaming... screaming bloody murder." Melissa's words were coming out in short gasps. "Th-there was nothing I could do but just listen to her screaming out for me. She was screaming, fighting... and I could hear her slowly fading out. Then, they threw me in the bathroom and zip-tied me. I woke up to some guy telling me that the paramedics were on the way."

"I am so sorry that happened to both of you," I said dully.

"There was so much blood.... So much more blood. I've never seen so much blood in my life. I tried to help her. She was so innocent. It's all my fault for forgetting my wallet."

"It's not your fault," Tom assured kindly. He put his hand on top of hers and looked her in the eye and compassionately said, "we will do everything we can to find these monsters and bring them to justice."

She finally made eye contact with me and she asked, "is my friend okay? How is she doing?"

I sighed softly, and Tom and I looked at each other before we looked back at Melissa. It wasn't our place to say what had happened to Lisa, so we just said, "we will have an update for you soon."

The door opened and a nurse wearing light blue scrubs came in. She held a bouquet of gerbera daisies and lush pink peonies in a vase and said, "someone came by with a gift for you, Ms Frank."

"Who was it?" Melissa asked eagerly. She sniffed and wiped a lonely tear from her eye, and sat up a little straighter in her bed.

"The Scott's."

The Scott's had just lost their daughter in the most brutal and tragic way imaginable, and they sent Melissa flowers. It was such a heartfelt, and compassionate gesture. I could not even begin to imagine what they were going through, but the mere thought of them sending Melissa flowers just showed how thoughtful and kind this family truly was.

"No, I don't want them," Melissa said.

"But, they came all this way—"

"Get them out of here. Please."

The nurse frowned a bit, and I did too. Why wouldn't she accept them? That's so disrespectful.

The nurse put them on a table on the other side of the room and said, "I'll just keep them here for now. When your family comes, they can take it."

Melissa exhaled softly before finally saying, "fine."

The nurse left, which made the air between all of us tense. Since we had all the information that we needed for now, Tom and I decided it was time for us to head back to the chapel.

I slowly stood up from my chair and said, "thank you, Melissa. If we need to talk to you again, we will contact you."

She sniffed and smiled at us kindly. "Okay, thank you."

Tom said goodbye, and when we turned to leave I noticed a little card in between the flowers of the bouquet. In cursive, it read:

Thank you for trying to save Lisa, and protecting our baby girl in her final moments.
We forever thank you.
Love, The Scott's

Tom carefully closed the door behind us and we walked briskly back to our car. We noted how strange that was, but figured it was just because she just had a very long and traumatizing night. I was silent for the car ride because I was running through her entire narrative of what happened in my head. I was trying to imagine it and piece it all together, but I felt like I had some pieces missing. Once we get the autopsy results, I'm sure I'll have a clearer picture.

When we got back to the chapel, we headed straight for our typewriters to begin typing up our individual reports. Judy and Ioki were already back from Evergreen State University, and they were also hunched over their typewriters. We gave them a brief run down of what Melissa had told us, but we were going to have to go over it again when the entire team was there.

Typing speeds up time, because before I knew it the back door to the chapel opened and Doug walked through with a dark folder clutched in his hand up in the air. He announced, "we got Lisa Scott's autopsy results."

"What does it say?" Tom asked from his desk.

Doug took his sweet time by opening the folder and walking to his desk, once he was settled in his chair, he put his finger to the page and cleared his throat before he began. "They counted 232 individual blunt force injuries to her body; 99 separate sharp force injuries, more than 100 wounds to her head alone, her skull was cracked in eight places, and her face was just demolished. These hundreds of different wounds came from several different weapons."

"Oh, God," Judy winced.

Doug continued reading. "They found 37 injuries to the back of her head, and one three-and-a-half inch deep knife wound to the back of her head which penetrated into the cerebellum of her brain, and it severed her spinal cord. In total, she had 331 separate injuries, and that doesn't even count the ones that overlapped."

"What about defensive wounds?" I asked.

"105 of them were found in her hands and forearms," he revealed.

"Holy shit," Ioki muttered.

"Wow." I chewed the inside of my cheek as I went back through my folder and inspected the crime scene photographs of Lisa again. She was practically butchered and she would have had less injuries if she was put through a wood chipper. "That is really personal."

"You think so?" Doug asked.

"Yeah, this is pure unadulterated rage. They can't be strangers. Whoever this was must know Lisa personally," I explained.

"No one would have this level of extreme brutality towards a complete stranger," Tom agreed.

"They were shouting racial slurs at the girls. Could it be racially motivated?" Judy asked.

"Melissa did say that they were white men," Ioki pointed out.

"By their voices," I added. "Not exactly the most reliable testimony."

"That's true," Doug said glumly.

"And Lisa is white too, so why would they shout racial slurs at her?" Ioki asked.

"Maybe they just didn't care," Judy said.

I propped my elbow up on the desk and rested my head in my hand. I blew a raspberry out of my lips to try to wrap my head around the entire thing. I asked, "what was the injury that killed her?"

Doug rummaged through his papers until he got to the right one, and he said, "she didn't die until that stab in her brain."

"Jesus," Tom sighed. He dropped his pencil to his desk and rubbed his eye in disbelief.

"God," Judy shuttered.

"Wait, was that the last one?" Ioki asked.

Doug scanned the document and nodded. "Yeah."

"So, she felt 330 of those injuries?" Tom asked with a scrunch of his nose.

"She was alive for all of it," Doug confirmed.

"She fought hard. It must have been brutal for her," I said softly. The sheer amount of fear and pain that must have been running through her is unimaginable. I can't even fathom what she went through.

"How do they know it was the last one?" Tom asked.

"All her wounds had been bleeding, which meant that her heart was still pumping," Doug stated, his voice was low.

"What were the weapons?" I asked.

Doug flipped to another page and read, "looks like they found a hammer, two bloodied box cutters, a wrench, a knife, a metal rod, a razor, and a rope."

I almost felt sick to my stomach. Lisa's last moments were due to a hammer, a metal rod, multiple blades, and a wrench. Her face was beat beyond recognition, and with eight separate cracks in her skull. I couldn't imagine being forced to feel all of that with no hope of defending yourself. When I closed my eyes, I could imagine a dark figure looming over her, savagely pounding her head in until the bone broke and caved.

"Does Jasmine Athletics have any security cameras?" Ioki asked.

"No, I don't think so. Otherwise, we would have been given the footage by now," I stated with a groan.

"The entire town is terrified, especially the university," Judy commented. "Everyone is afraid because of these people. Everyone is rallying behind Melissa."

"I'm glad she's getting some support. She's lucky to be alive," Ioki said.

"Anyone know if Melissa had a rape test conducted?" I asked.

Doug flipped through the pages of his packet before using his finger to scan the words. I knew he found it when his finger froze on the page. "Yeah. It looks like they found evidence under her finger nails, foreign hair, and did a vaginal swab. We should be getting the results for that soon."

The office door opened and Fuller walked into the squad room, interrupting our deliberation. He said, "a nearby store has security camera footage. They think they've captured the assailants."

"Let me guess: two men, both wearing black, one tall and one short?" Doug asked.

"And one has a backpack." Fuller nodded.

"There's a lead," Judy said hopefully.

"The timeline fits and they fit the description. Penhall, Hoffs, I'm going to have you two head over to the store and access that footage. Then, go to Jasmine Athletics and see if they come back."

"Why would they come back?" Doug asked.

"They might," Fuller stated firmly.

Doug and Judy headed out of the chapel, leaving us with a bunch of evidence to go over without them. The rest of us gathered at our big table to deliberate since it would be easier to show each other documents than it would be at our desks.

"Look at this." Ioki tossed a photograph towards the center of the table. I sat up straighter and peered at it, and it looked like a photo of a pair of mens sneakers. The tops were splattered in blood, but the soles were completely clean.

"Shoes?" Tom asked and looked up at Ioki.

"They were found tucked into a random shelf in the back. The bloody footprints in the hallway match the pattern of these shoes," Ioki pointed out.

"Then why are the bottoms clean? Shouldn't they be covered in blood?" Tom asked.

"Why would they leave their shoes?" I asked.

"I don't know. It's super weird," Ioki stated.

I leaned to my notepad and wrote about the shoes. So many questions arose: why were they hidden? If the murderers wore these shoes, why did they clean them? What did they wear walking out of the store?

Fuller popped out from his office once again and announced, "Melissa went home."

"She's home?" Tom lifted his eyebrow in curiosity.

"Already?" I asked.

"I got a call from the doc. He said that her wounds were pretty superficial. She got stitches on her forehead, and stitches in the webbing between her thumb and index finger. Everything else was just skin deep and they'll heal on their own," he explained.

"Wow, she's lucky," Ioki stated.

"Why would the assailants ruthlessly murder Lisa, but only leave a few scratches on Melissa?" I asked in a low voice.

"Maybe they came just for Lisa, and Melissa was just in the way?" Tom suggested.

Fuller began saying, "Hanson, Gregg—"

"Yeah, yeah, we're on it," Tom cut in because we already knew what he was going to have us do. We were going to have to go back to Melissa and see if she had more information to give us now that's it's been a few hours and she's had time to go home and calm down.

Astonishingly, she had more details about the attack. We all sat together on the couch in her apartment's living room, and her body was physically shaking from how hard she was crying. Despite Tom telling her that she could take her time or that we could come back later, she didn't want to stop.

"A-after they... after they raped me on the bathroom floor, they dragged me to Lisa and they threw me down onto her body. I remember feeling the—her sticky blood on my back and arms. They told me, 'the only reason why you are not in the same state as Lisa is because you were more fun to fuck'. Her blood soaked through my shirt... and—and I could feel it on my skin. That's when they zip-tied me in the bathroom."

I found this extra little detail odd, because I felt like I would have remembered getting tossed onto my dead friend vividly. However, I'm aware that everyone processes grief differently and since her story stayed the same other than that detail, I didn't acknowledge it.

"I have a photograph I want you to see. Is that okay?" Tom asked.

She nodded with a sniff. "Yeah."

Tom handed her the Polaroid of the blood covered shoes and he asked, "do you recognize these?"

She looked at the photo for just a moment before she said, "yeah, they're our shoes."

"Your shoes?" He asked.

"Not my shoes, but shoes that Jasmine Athletics's sells," she explained.

I glanced at Tom and he gave me the same look. Why would this guy put on a pair of sneakers just to frolic around in the blood, then put them back on a shelf? There's no way he arrived on the scene barefoot. I couldn't imagine someone prancing around like an asshole in shoes that could be traced back to them.

"It was so awful." Melissa began to sob hysterically again. "I just want this nightmare to be over."

She threw herself onto Tom and clutched him tightly. He held her as she cried into his chest, and he gently rubbed her back to console her. His eyes gravitated toward me, and I sighed softly. So many thoughts were running through my head, but I didn't want to tell them to anyone until I was one-hundred percent confident with my assumption of who committed these extremely wicked, shockingly evil, and vile acts last night.

When Tom and I arrived back at the chapel, Doug and Judy were still on their assignment. However, Ioki was at his desk and he told us that Fuller had an update for us, and he gestured to the document on his desk.

When Tom and I were at our desks, Ioki stated, "they didn't bring any weapons with them."

"What do you mean?" Tom asked.

"Jasmine Athletics accounted that all the weapons that were used on Lisa belonged to the store," Ioki stated.

"All of them?" I asked in disbelief.

"All of them," Ioki confirmed.

I leaned back in my chair and said, "that's so bizarre. If it's planned, they usually bring their own weapons."

"Could it have been a couple customers who prepared to rob the place while they were closed, and since Lisa and Melissa came back... they felt like they had to attack?" Tom asked.

"Maybe," Ioki said softly. "By the way, while you guys were gone, I was looking at the crime scene photos and found something you guys might want to take a look at."

Tom and I headed over to his desk and gazed at the photos he had displayed. They were photos that we saw of the front of the store, and I didn't notice anything special until Ioki said, "the footprints never leave the inside of the store."

I squinted at the photo and took it off the table to have a closer look. He was right; the footprints never exit the store. I know that the unknown assailants were no longer in the store since a search was conducted, but they couldn't have walked through the entire store without shoes because they would have definitely cut their feet on the broken glass that littered the floor.

"So, what were the murderers wearing if their shoes were on the shelf?" Tom asked.

"I don't know... something is just not adding up right," he said.

"We have all these little details... but we can't really grab onto them yet," Tom said.

"You know, the description of these men bother me too. They're racist, rapists, robbers, murderers... the worst possible people. Two of them," I stated while holding up two fingers.

Tom looked at me for a long moment. Then he asked, "what are you thinking? Talk to me, Mick."

I looked at them and finally declared, "I think that Melissa is lying about what happened."

The guys stared at me for a long moment, they didn't know what to think. It was an absurd hypothesis, but one I was very confident in since the moment I stepped into her hospital room. Just then, Tom's phone began ringing. He looked at me like he was waiting to me to elaborate, but the second ring filled the chapel so he headed over to his desk. He picked up the receiver to answer it. "Hanson... Mmhm... Oh... It is? Okay. Okay, thank you."

Tom looked over at me and Ioki and revealed, "they just found Lisa's car."

"I thought that Melissa said that Lisa parked it in front of the store?" I asked.

"She must have gotten it wrong because they just found it three blocks away in some random lot. They found blood smears on the seats, steering wheel, the handle, and a hat with blood on it," Tom said.

"Have they had a chance to test it yet?" I asked.

He nodded. "They have confirmed that it's both Melissa and Lisa's blood. The hat belongs to Melissa. It has her name on the inside tag."

"I think it's time we bring Melissa in for questioning," I suggested.

"Good idea," Tom agreed. "Y'know, something has been bothering me too."

"What is it?"

"Remember when... you were kidnapped by Ray?"

"I don't think I could ever forget it," I stated.

"When we found you, you were very clearly in shock. Your mouth was foaming, you could barely speak, you were incoherent, your eyes were going everywhere."

"I was?" I never realized I was that out of it that night.

"And when we went to visit Melissa... she wasn't like that at all. I don't know. But I haven't been able to stop thinking about it." Tom picked up the phone and dialed Melissa's number. While he was talking to her about coming to the station, I began writing down some questions that we needed her to answer.

Melissa was already in an interrogation room when we arrived at Metro Police Department. Tom and I devised a game plan of trying to catch her in smaller lies, because why would she lie about little things unless she's trying to cover something up?

When we walked into the room, she greeted us with a weak smile. Small bandages covered the superficial cuts on her arms and the gash on her forehead was leaking a bit into the white gauze they had wrapped around her head, but otherwise she looked fine. Not perfect, but fine.

"Thanks for meeting us again, Melissa, we still have a few more questions to ask you. If that's all right," Tom asked her with a smile.

"Ask away," she said.

Tom pulled my chair out for me and we both sat down at the table across from her. I didn't bother to pull out my notes because I didn't want Melissa to assume that we were interrogating her and clam up.

"Do you know what Lisa's car looks like?" I asked.

"Yeah, kinda." She shrugged.

"Have you ever been in her car?" I asked.

"No, never," she answered quickly.

I kept my expression professional, but alarms were going off in my head. How could she have never been in Lisa's car when her blood and her hat were found in the vehicle? That was her first lie. She had no reason to lie about that.

Tom tried to give her another chance to come clean by asking, "has she ever given you a ride home from work?"

"I have never been in her car," she stated clearly.

Even Tom knew that she was lying at this point, and even though we don't have a smoking gun, I know that we can use this to get her to confess.

Tom and I continued to ask her more questions about that night, but she never went off script. After a couple hours of going back and forth, we couldn't keep her any more so we let her go. Luckily, she never caught on to the fact that we are now aware that she knows more than what she's letting on.

Tom and I have mutually decided not to take any cases home with us, so we didn't really discuss it again until the next morning. However, I did take a wooden spoon and I banged it on the kitchen counter top 331 times and timed it. It took approximately ten minutes, and that was just of me stabbing it down over and over. That didn't even take into account the vicious hitting, stabbing, or the chasing that definitely occurred. It must have taken at least twenty excruciating minutes from the first wound, all the way until the last. Twenty minutes of excruciating pain, torture, and fear.

When Tom and I got back at the chapel in the morning, we put our work-hats on and we decided that we needed to get Melissa to come back to the station just one more time.

"We could ask her to come in to submit for DNA testing?" Ioki suggested.

"No, she might run or turn it down," Tom stated.

"We could say we need to question her again," Doug proposed.

"She might get suspicious since we questioned her for hours yesterday," I stated.

"We could—"

The phone began to ring. Everyone's eyes landed on the phone and then we froze. I'll never get used to the sound of that phone trilling. Tom waited a moment before picking up the receiver and brought it up to his ear.

"It's Hanson... great. See you soon." He hung up and looked up at us and all he said was, "she's coming back."

"Why?" Judy asked.

"She said that she has something she hasn't told us before."

"You think she's going to confess?" I asked.

Tom shrugged and said, "only one way to find out."

We jumped out of our chairs and drove to Metropolis Police Department as quickly as we could. We were told that Melissa had gotten there just a couple minutes before we did, and she was waiting for us.

Tom opened the interrogation room door for me and he followed me to the table where Melissa was waiting for us. After we got our initial greetings out of the way, she said, "I forgot to tell you yesterday, but I have been in Lisa's car before. I drove it."

My eyes widened a bit and Tom asked, "when?"

"That night."

"You drove Lisa's car that night?" Tom asked again for clarification.

"Yes."

I just wanted to put my face in my hands. Melissa could vividly recall the sound the assailants coat made when he zipped it up, but she couldn't remember driving a dead woman's car?

"The men made me drive it a few blocks away. They were watching me do it, and said that if I alerted anyone for help, they would kill me," she explained.

"They would kill you?" I asked for clarification. What are they gonna do? Run after her if she turned left instead of right?

"Yes." There was a sense of confidence in her voice.

"Why didn't you just keep driving?" Tom asked. He put his elbows in the table and leaned forward towards her.

"They said that they knew where I lived." She sniffed and her lips began to tremble like she was going to become blubbery again. "I was so scared."

"What did you do after that?" I asked.

"I walked from the car back to the store."

"Okay... can you tell us everything that happened again from the beginning?" Tom asked as he rubbed his exhausted eyes. He leaned back in his chair and waited for her to give us her entire story again.

And she did. It sounded like a rehearsed tale, every little vile detail was perfect. Every little thing never changed. She cried at the same times, and stuttered at the same words. I was ready for her notecards to fall out of her sleeves. Even some of the comparisons and the way that she described this merciless attack were down to the letter. Perfect.

When she finished her tale, my head swung to Tom and his eyes met mine. Just by inspecting the look in his eye, we didn't have to say a word to each other to be on the same page. Both of us looked at Melissa at the same time and I could tell that her heart rate spiked a bit.

Tom linked his fingers together and he rested his elbows on the table. He asked, "do you have anything weighing on you? Do you have anything to get off your chest?"

"No." Melissa shook her head, but her eyes were intense against Tom's. Her ambiance was calm and collected, but on the inside I could see that she was freaking out.

"Melissa," Tom said with a sympathetic tone. "You probably got angry and you snapped. It's okay, it happens. What did Lisa do to make you do that?"

Tom was not trying to purposely victim-blame, he just wanted Melissa to think that he was on her side and to come clean about what really happened that night. The only way to do that is to feed her ego and make her think she was justified to react the way that she did.

"I already told you what happened. I didn't do it, if that's what you're asking. Can I go home now?"

The door behind us opened and one of the Metro P.D. officers came in and waved his hand at us, beckoning us out of the room. I looked to Tom and he nodded his head, so he stayed there and I got up and walked out of the room.

Once the door was closed, the officer introduced me to a guy with dark curly hair and a wispy mustache above his upper lip. The officer introduced him as Kenny Frank, Lisa's older brother.

The officer explained that he believes that Kenny will be able to talk Melissa into telling us the truth, so I caught him up on the entire situation. I informed him about everything he needed to know in order to properly jump into the interrogation room, including my case file with photographs and notes, as well as transcripts of all the interviews we have conducted regarding the case.

As soon as I mentioned how Melissa had likely fabricated the entire event, he immediately defended her by saying, "no, no, can't be."

"We don't want this to be what it is, but here are the facts. Clear as crystal. We don't want this to be the answer, but it is," I said firmly.

"What are you saying?" He asked.

"We are saying that Melissa killed Lisa," I stated flatly.

Kenny was silent as my claim processed in his mind. Finally, he asked, "can I speak to her?"

"Sure," I said.

I opened the door and waved Tom over to me. He stopped his discussion with Melissa and he switched spots with Kenny. The door closed and I caught Tom up with what happened on our side of the door as we walked to the nearby monitoring room to watch the live feed from the camera we have in the room.

We sat down in the empty chairs in front of the monitor, and we watched Kenny take the chair and sit across from Melissa. Tom grabbed the underside of my chair and pulled me closer to him which made me smile with a suppressed giggle. He returned the grin, and we collected our attention to the monitor.

Doug and Judy soon came into the room and Doug was quick to announce, "we found the guys that were on the tape."

"You did?" I asked. I twisted my back to be able to look at them and my spine cracked.

"Yeah, turns out, they are just busboys from Antonio's. You know, that Italian restaurant at the Plaza. We questioned them and showed them the footage. They identified themselves in the video, but they said that they were just walking home after their shift," Doug explained.

"And their alibi checks out," Judy added.

"And guess what?" Doug added.

"What?" Tom asked.

"We got the results for the rape test kit."

"What's the verdict?" I asked.

"The vaginal swab came up with nothing. But the hair they found on Melissa's clothes and the skin under her finger nails both belonged to Lisa," Doug revealed.

"We got our physical evidence," Tom said.

I let out a shaky breath. We were right.

"Are they recording us?" Melissa's voice played through the speakers.

Tom and I turned back to the monitor to see what Kenny and Melissa were talking about. We thanked Doug and Judy, but they stayed to listen to their conversation. Really the only thread we had left was to pull a confession from Melissa.

"No, they're not at all," Kenny reassured.

My eyebrows furrowed together and I let out a little laugh. I asked, "is he kidding? Everyone knows that you are under surveillance when you're in an interrogation room."

"He must be kidding." Tom smiled a bit.

"Did you do this?" Kenny asked.

"No. I don't want to talk about it here," she said softly.

My heart leaped out of my chest and I could have jumped out of my seat. I pointed at the monitor and my head snapped to Tom. I said, "that's confessing."

"I'll get the cuffs," Doug said and left the room.

"They're not gonna let you go," Kenny told her.

"I just want to go home," she whined.

"Melissa..." Kenny leaned forward against the table and in a low, chilling voice he said, "you're not going home. They're not letting you out of here."

"I just don't want anyone to be disappointed in me."

"No one is disappointed in you. Tell me what happened so I can try to get you out of here. This is going to get a lot fucking worse. I know you did it, but I just need you to tell me."

Melissa began to cry and she looked down at her hands. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath from her crocodile tears. She shook her head and sobbed out, "sorry. I'm so sorry."

"She's not sorry," I scoffed. "She's just sorry she got caught."

"Yeah," Tom agreed in a low voice.

"Stop apologizing to me. Tell me what happened. Why'd you do it?" Kenny asked.

"I-I-I don't know what happened."

"Was it shoplifting?" He asked.

"Why was that his first thought?" Tom whispered.

"No."

"She must have done it before," I whispered, as if we were in the same room as them and they could hear us. We didn't want to miss a thing.

"Then why did you fight this girl?" He asked.

"She was sucker punched to the back of the head. That's not fighting," Judy stated. She was still standing behind me and Tom, and soon Doug came back but we decided to hold off on the arrest and see if she was going to tell Kenny anything else about the murder.

"Are we being recorded? Can they hear us?" Melissa asked again in a low voice.

"No. I looked, there's no recording devices. What happened? Was the whole thing planned or—"

She interrupted him, "no, not at all."

"So, what did she do?"

"I really forgot my wallet." She sniffed.

"I believe you. Did she accuse you of shop lifting?"

"I didn't take anything," Melissa replied firmly.

"Okay... well, we are gonna get you an attorney. We can't plea with temporary insanity anymore. We can say that she attacked you, but it won't look good because you tried to cover it up."

This attack was so heinous and sadistic, Melissa had made everyone believe that there was no way that a petite, young woman like herself would ever be capable of such a horrific and callous murder. This murder was so vile, it was believable that it was executed by two racist, murderous rapists. Melissa Frank was a true monster from the inside out.

Melissa's face fell to her hands and she weeped uncontrollably. I finally let myself roll my eyes. Her entire body was trembling as she said almost unintelligibly, "I just didn't know what to do."

Kenny let her cry for a bit before he asked, "so, she came back to let you in, right? Then what? What did she say?"

Melissa stopped hyperventilating long enough to say, "Lisa told me that she was going to make sure the store manager knew."

"Knew what? That you were shop lifting?"

"But I wasn't," she said defensively.

"Have you stolen from that store before?" He asked.

"Never. Honestly, I was going good as far as..." her voice trailed off.

Kenny leaned back in his chair and he sat up a little straighter, as if he suddenly got timorous. It was as if he was thinking, this is the most brutal, horrific thing I have ever heard... and this is my little sister.

"Now, listen, since we've been talking you've been looking up and to the right, and that means you're lying. If you're gonna lie to the cops, look at something... like the door handle behind me. Look at that, and nothing else." Kenny leaned forward and whispered to her, "I lie all the time, so I know these things."

"I don't think he's joking anymore," I said.

"Me neither," Tom agreed. He turned to me and asked, "ready?"

"Ready."

We left the monitoring room and walked back into the interrogation room together. Tom had Kenny leave Melissa, so it was just the two of us.

I took the chair that blocked the door handle from her view and I put a copy of my case file in front of us. I sat there for a few moments, trying to make her nervous by the power of silence. I stared into her eyes and all I saw were the eyes of a killer. An inhuman monster who will never see the light of day again.

"Melissa, we know that you killed Lisa. You and I both know what you won't be getting out of this one. Just tell me what happened, and I can get your sentence reduced. But I need you to tell me the truth. Otherwise, I can't help you. Let the truth set you free."

Melissa finally realized that she had been busted. I think the stress had finally gotten to her, because she sang like a canary.

After Melissa's confession, public records, and reading statements taken from other Jasmine Athletic employees, I found out that Melissa had been fired from another retail store for shoplifting. The managers at Jasmine Athletics had been planning on firing Melissa for weeks, so they were just waiting for her to be caught in the act. They were instructed to fire her right away if she was caught stealing.

That fateful night, Lisa was covering the closing shift for another manager and she just so happened to catch Melissa stealing yoga pants. Melissa claimed that she bought them from another manager, so Lisa called that manager to check and it was confirmed that it didn't happen, and the transaction in the computer system didn't exist either. Lisa had told Melissa that she was going to need to tell the store manager, and that they would deal with it in the morning.

Just as Lisa was driving out of the parking lot, she caught a glimpse of Melissa flagging her down. She turned around and drove up in front of the store, and Melissa told her that she forgot her wallet in the store. The moment she decided to flag Lisa down and lure her back into the store showed that this murder was premeditated.

Melissa sucker punched Lisa with a steel clothing rod in the back of her head. To try to escape, Lisa ran to the front of the store and was caught by Melissa. Their violent struggle caused damage throughout the store, and Melissa ruthlessly pulled clumps of Lisa's hair out. Bloodied handprints were smeared on the walls and floor, and it was obvious that Lisa was fighting hard for her life, but Melissa dragged her into the back room.

Lisa managed to escape her clutches and she raced to the emergency exit in the back that was located at the end of the narrow hallway. Her bloody handprint was found in the handle, so Melissa had yanked her back just moments before she was free.

Melissa trapped her in that hallway and she knocked her down with another blow to the head. She straddled her as she struggled to get back up, and she was fueled by so much anger, she heinously raised her weapons hundreds of times, each one bashing into Lisa's head and body harder and harder. She savagely beat her to death with such force, her blood sprayed up to six feet high on the walls.

Melissa and Lisa's blood were found in the car because Melissa moved it since it was parked in a no parking zone, and she knew that someone was going to see it. When she got back to the store, she walked around in Lisa's blood to make footprints, then she grabbed a pair of mens sneakers and followed her own footprints to make it look like she was being chased. Then, she rinsed the shoes in the sink and put them back on the shelf, but didn't seem to notice that the tops and shoelaces were soaked with blood.

One of the most psychotic things I've ever heard was that after she ran around the store causing more damage to make it appear like it was ransacked as a robbery gone wrong, she took a box cutter and slashed up her own body. She dug the blade into her own flesh to make it appear like she had survived a vicious attack and make herself a victim and the hero of her own narrative. She then tied herself up in zip ties she found in the back and she lathered herself in Lisa's blood that was quickly pooling on the floor.

Once she was satisfied, she laid down on the disgusting bathroom floor and put her zip-tied arms above her head. This is how she waited until morning, where she was found by Fuller.

I didn't have time to process anything about her elaborate confession. I could imagine that Tom was listening in from the monitoring room, with his jaw dropped to the floor at the horrific details of this grisly murder. She killed an innocent woman over a pair of yoga pants. With the premeditated confession, I don't see how she will get anything less than first degree murder. I guarantee she will never be a free woman again.

I remembered timing how long it would take to stab someone 331 times, and calculated that it would have taken about twenty minutes at least. She had twenty minutes to stop. Out of morbid curiosity, I asked, "why was this justified in your mind? After every blow, you had a chance to think about what you were doing. Instead, you mutilated this woman."

She coldly responded, "once I started, I couldn't stop. I was tired of her accusing me and following me around."

"She's not going to follow you around anymore, because she's dead now. You killed her."

Tom came back into the room and together we arrested Melissa Frank. I wish we could have been able to arrest Kenny for trying to help her cover up her crime, but we kept our focus on Melissa. He will be someone else's problem.

"You're arresting me?!" She nearly screamed as Tom tightened the handcuffs around her wrists behind her back.

Tom ignored her and began reading her the Miranda Rights, "you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

"Officer Mickey, sweetheart, you're gonna have to help me get out of jail. You know I didn't do it," she said, trying to plead with me with her big brown eyes. It didn't work on me before, and it's certainly not going to work on me now.

"If you want to get out, get a spoon like everybody else. You're gonna have to work for it. Start digging, bitch."

Melissa's jaw dropped and she stared at me in disbelief as Tom began to escort her out of the room to drag her down to processing himself, while he continued to give her her rights. "You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you..."

His voice got quieter the further down the hallway they went. I slowly gathered the case file back together and waited by Tom's Mustang for him to come back so we could leave together. I felt like I had a weight off my shoulders, and I knew I helped bring some sort of closure to this grieving family.

Melissa is a sadistic sociopath, and she definitely would have done this again. This is exactly what happens when she feels like she has no other option. She thought that this was her only way out. Now, when I close my eyes, I can see Melissa standing over Lisa's lifeless body. She deserves to rot.

This chapter was based on the Lulu Lemon Murder! This is one of the craziest cases I've ever studied, and it is very interesting if anyone wants to learn more about it. Jayna Murray's murder was gut-wrenching and cruel. Her story should be told and she deserves to be remembered ❤️
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!