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    Hangman
    Hangman
    Hangman
    Ebook199 pages2 hours

    Hangman

    By Erin Lee and Sara Schoen

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Hangman

    A suspense thriller

    by International Bestselling authors Erin Lee and Sara Schoen

    The Hangman has returned to Haven. After a killing spree that ended with twelve people dead, he vanished. Almost ten years have passed with no new evidence, no fresh information on the killer’s identity and only one clue.

    It’s a simple word: Unpublicized.

    Even that hasn’t given police much to go on. But if they looked closely, they could have stopped him. And one woman still can.

    Elizabeth Walsh had investigated the The Hangman’s killings even before the academy. Over the years, she’s surmised the following: His kills are random, no one knows what brings on sudden sprees and very few people know how he got his name. She knows that the twelve people he killed assisted in playing a deadly game. Now, The Hangman wants to play with her.

    It’s a simple game: “Let’s play.”

    He leaves four blank letters on her front door.

    “Four letter word for challenge.”

    D.A.R.E

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCrazy Ink
    Release dateJun 6, 2018
    ISBN9781386484004
    Hangman
    Author

    Erin Lee

    Erin Lee lives in Queensland, Australia and has been working with children for over 25 years. She has worked in both long day care and primary school settings and has a passion for inclusive education and helping all children find joy in learning. Erin has three children of her own and says they have helped contribute ideas and themes towards her quirky writing style. Her experience working in the classroom has motivated her to write books that bring joy to little readers, but also resource educators to help teach fundamental skills to children, such as being safe, respectful learners.

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      Book preview

      Hangman - Erin Lee

      Dedication

      For anyone searching for something missing. May you find that last letter or whatever truth you are looking for.

      Treat her like a queen and she’ll treat you like a king. Treat her like a game and she’ll show you how it’s played.

      -Unknown

      CHAPTER ONE

      The Hangman

      New blood; I craved it. Whether in my victims or in my adversaries, I needed it. I saw it as a challenge; a way to prove that I could do what had to be done for the game. I couldn’t use someone who knew the game, but only people who thought they did. It’s what made the game that much more enjoyable. They thought they could outsmart me. They thought they knew everything about me. They thought wrong.

      After my last game with the Haven Police Department, they thought they won. Twelve people were dead, but I did stop killing. Just not for the reason they think. They wanted to believe I had been put away, that I had moved on, or whatever else they claimed to ease the public in this tiny town where everyone knew everyone’s stupid middle name. Sure, I was a stale urban legend now, but ten years ago, everyone feared me. To them, I took random people off the street. To them, there was no connection. But to me, well, there’s always a connection.

      Their only clue was the twelve letter word: unpublicized. No one would guess what it meant, not unless they looked closely. Too bad no one ever did. They were all too busy with what I called the ‘top layer’. They couldn’t see past the gore of the crime scenes, they couldn’t solve the puzzle before I completed the killings, and they couldn’t find me because of it. If they had, maybe I wouldn’t be determining the next puzzle right under their noses.

      The last puzzle was easy in my opinion. The police should have figured it out. Especially once the word was complete, but no. They’re all useless. Protect and serve my ass. They couldn’t protect themselves or their fellow officers. How were they going to protect the town? They were looking at the wrong man, always had been. They never had a hope of finding me because I covered my tracks. I made them see what they so desperately wanted; a killer. I gave them an easy target, one far off from me, and it worked. They arrested an innocent man all because of their precious profile. Too bad for them, their profile was wrong. They didn’t know shit about me. And the little that they had gotten right, well, it wouldn’t help them anymore. Things change, so do people, and so do motives.

      This time was different. I needed to show them they had gotten it wrong. It took years, ten to be exact, but now the game was going to be perfect. Multiple rounds, each worse than the last, with someone who earned the honor of going head to head with me. Smart, beautiful, and broken. Her dreams had been shattered, but if she solved my puzzles, she’d be a hero. Unlike the last officer who I challenged. I thought Henry Oswald had the ability to figure out my game.

      Clearly I was wrong.

      He ignored the clues I left him. He thought he had it figured out and even when I told him it was wrong, he ignored me. Because of his ignorance, ten more men died and I bet he didn’t give a shit because he eventually arrested whoever he had to. If he didn’t make an arrest, the town would never have relaxed. They needed to stage someone for the murders and poor James Grimmald was everything the profile said I’d be: A loner, unmarried, mid to late forties, and white.

      While they got the ethnicity right, everything else was a lie, at least at that time.

      They took the bait I laid out for them and then choked on the poison. Henry should have seen the trick, but didn’t. Once the puzzle was out, I slithered back into my hiding place. No one knew who I really was, not even my wife. It’s funny to think people who saw me every day never suspected me. I camouflaged in with them so easily, despite having to dumb myself down to tolerate them. Though, while Henry had failed, I noticed his protégé seemed to understand the puzzles. Bill Thompson, a young rookie who knew better than to speak out against his mentor, would have made a better opponent.

      This time though, I knew I needed my story to be told. The real one, not the one James told. While he proclaimed his innocence to anyone who would listen, reporters and writers still flocked to him. They wanted his account of The Hangman killings from the killer himself, but he couldn’t even tell them how the name Hangman came to be. It could have been guessed from the first victim, Rachel Greenbrow. She hung from her second story landing, limbless, waiting for her husband to get home. The next few either had her spare arm or leg show up, while theirs went missing.

      The name came from me. Just like the Zodiac, I signed my letter to the police as The Hangman. It was meant to give them a hint, to tell them the game we were playing, but it fell on deaf inane ears. They thought it was a signature, but they didn’t notice eventually I stopped taking body parts. I built a body; just like the game, every time they got the clue wrong.

      So while I slipped into the background of their minds, I didn’t fret about James taking the fall. He’d be free before they could execute him, because deep down Henry knew he didn’t catch me. He spent years searching for me with Bill undercover by his side. Deep down he knew I’d come back, I just had to wait long enough. Long enough for the fear to dissipate, but not vanish. Then when the time was right, I’d return. The pathetic people of this town would always fear The Hangman because they don’t know why I’m killing. But they will, soon everyone will and they’ll think anyone is my next victim.

      For now, I have to set the stage. One piece of paper, four letters, and a test. I have found my new opponent. Hopefully, she’s ready to play or she’s in for a hell of a time.

      CHAPTER TWO

      Elizabeth

      Istared at the note , trying to make sense of it. Four blank underlined dashes for letters and the picture of a hangman written on a torn piece of notebook paper. On the back, it said Let’s Play in blotchy, blocked handwriting. All caps. What the hell? A shiver ran down my spine as I thought of him – the man I’d been trying too hard to catch all those years ago before my stupid knee and finally giving up. No, it couldn’t be. It has to be a joke. Still, looking at the note brought on goosebumps.

      Someone had left it on my doorstep. I spun around, pulling my keys from my back pocket. They couldn’t have been gone long. I’d only been to the grocery store for hummus and cheese for twenty minutes. I put the plastic grocery bag down, leaving it on the front steps as I walked slowly toward the parking lot in front of my shared townhouse. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The usual cars were in the parking lot. Mrs. McGilicuti was by the mailboxes, walking her Yorkshire terrier. I waved hello and turned back to my doorway, marked 13B.

      I wished Ruby would get home. My roommate since junior year, Ruby was the closest thing I had to a sister. My complete opposite, Ruby was practical. She’d come up with some reasonable explanation for the note. In the meantime, while she worked banker’s hours as a teller, I’d sit here and let my imagination run wild – torturing myself.

      It had to be Ryan, I decided. My best guy friend with an addiction to documentaries on serial killers, he was nearly as obsessed with The Hangman as I was and my old friend Bill had been. That has to be it, I told myself, remembering the date. Duh. It’s April Fools. I smiled, crumpling the note and stuffing it in my back pocket. I promised myself I’d get that idiot back with a note of my own. With Ryan, it was always something. Feeling silly for even considering it was anything but a joke, I put the tiny bag of groceries away before plopping down at my computer.

      It was my normal routine. Ever since leaving the academy all too soon, I’d put myself on a pretty structured schedule. While it was against my habit of procrastinating, I knew it was time to grow up. Christ, I was twenty-three years old. I couldn’t go to my parents for help with my share of the rent forever. I needed to get my act together quick and be more like Ruby.

      I couldn’t really imagine it. How she got up every day at 5:30 a.m. to get to the bank for seven seemed surreal to me. A night owl by nature, I’d rather skip breakfast and the morning commute and drink wake up coffee at noon. It’s why I’d taken a part time job as a file clerk at Rodney and Dunn’s Law Offices. The job wasn’t bad. It gave me access to things I wouldn’t otherwise have. I hoped, eventually, it would become a full time thing and I could go for my paralegal or something until I had a better plan.

      To this point, plans hadn’t really worked out for me. There was my cheating fiancé – Tom Marshall – whom I’d pinned my hopes on while he was pinning Rebecca Rooney’s arms down against our shared headboard. Then, there was the whole debacle at the academy. Thinking about it made my head hurt. But it wasn’t just that. My parents’ divorce, being the pawn in their dirty custody battle half my life, my brother’s drug habit, the house burning down. All of it had been shit. I needed to turn things around.

      It’s why I originally went to the academy. I figured that by becoming a detective, I could at least be useful. I was tired of feeling helpless by the time I was ten years old. Doing the right thing and helping people get answers seemed like a no brainer to me. I hadn’t anticipated, of course, the boys club or the hoops I’d have to jump through – literally and metaphorically. The physical fitness tests alone had been enough to cause the death of me. Sometimes, I still don’t know how I got as far as I did. The truth is, I’m kind of lazy.

      I scanned my emails, hoping for a hit on something. If I can’t land a permanent position at the firm, I can at least fill my spare time with another part time job. It would take my mind off The Hangman, who my parents say I’ve developed an unhealthy fascination with. At least they agree on something, so there’s that.

      He’s impossible not to be obsessed with. He killed twelve people in a one-week period, for God’s sake. And ever since returning to Haven, it’s kind of hard to forget about him. For whatever reason, I’ve just felt a connection to him. For years, I thought if they caught him, I’d write to him. I wrote a paper on him once, for a forensic psychology class. My assignment was to profile him and try to figure out what made him tick.

      I got a C. I can’t say I was thrilled with that. My professor didn’t agree with me. She said there was no way he was married or blended in. You can’t kill twelve people and be an ordinary Joe, she’d said. I disagreed. I told my male professor the same thing: It’s the quiet ones who get away with it. And he has, for ten years now. He lives among us, probably even in Haven, of that I am sure.

      I know a few other things too: His kills are random. No one knows what sets him off. He’s killed before and hasn’t been caught. Police call him The Hangman but have never said why. I’ve read that last part in the papers,

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