Jack Zane: Evil at Storm Lake Read online

Jack Zane: Evil at Storm Lake

  Author Jan Sumner

  Copyright 2011 Jan Sumner and JaDan Publishing

  Jack Zane: Evil at Storm Lake

  Jan Sumner

  Chapter 1

  Jake Mozzetti had waited long enough. It was time to make a move. Slowly he climbed the stairs. He’d been chasing this guy for months, now at last he’d found him. At least he hoped so. All his sources told him the guy would be here. It had been a long hard road to this point. The Baker’s had hired Jake to track this guy down. The police had been unable to find him, and the Baker’s were sure he was the one who’d murdered their daughter.

  As he climbed the stairs he could feel his blood rushing. His heartbeat made his neck feel like it was going to explode. Quietly he approached the door. He pulled his gun from under his coat as he grabbed the doorknob. Turning it carefully he began to open the door….

  That damn phone, just when he was beginning to roll. He’d been laboring over this part and now when it started to flow - oh well, who knows, it might be his agent with more indifferent news. Jonathan reluctantly got up and answered the phone.

  “Hello,” he said quietly.

  “Jonathan, this is your Aunt Tilley.”

  “Oh, hi Aunt Tilley, how are you? My gosh it’s been…” “Jonathan, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have some, well, bad news.”

  Jonathan Smyth hadn’t heard from Aunt Tilley, or anyone else in his family, for several years. Once he had graduated from college he’d moved away. He had wanted to see the world and broaden his horizons. Independence, Kansas was fine when he was a kid, but he'd known there was more to life than hopping in the 1954 Buick and heading to Wichita to partake in more fun than any of them could endure. It was always the same; his dad, Steve, his twin brother Matt, and once in a while his loveable, but sometimes strangely distant, grandmother, Fran, or Fannie, as he and his brother would sometimes call her when they were sure she couldn’t hear them.

  Nevertheless, once he got his BA from KU, he was gone. He always knew he wanted to be a writer, and it was not going to happen in Independence. His dad owned the local drug store and was completely content in a small town. His brother was, well, psychotic and had left town before he had. No one really knew where he was, and to be honest, didn’t care. His mother, Kim, had died delivering him and Matt. Even though he’d never known her, Jonathan missed her and felt an emptiness deep inside that he knew would never be filled. He carried a small picture of her in his wallet he’d found in his dad’s dresser drawers when he was a kid. For him, it was just another reason to leave.

  He’d finally settled in New Orleans. It was exciting, near the Gulf, and above all, NOT Independence. The city inspired him to write. He hadn’t been robustly successful, actually, not even moderately, but he did have two books in print that had done fairly well. Both murder mysteries, centered around his dashing private investigator, Jake Mozzetti. He was now writing his third book and hoping for bigger things.

  “Oh no,” he thought, it’s got to be dad or Matt. “Is it my dad, Tilley?”

  “No Jonathan, it’s your grandmother, Fran. She died yesterday morning about nine. I’m so sorry Jonathan. I know how much you loved her.”

  He sat down in the chair next to the phone. He didn’t know what to say. Fran had been the closest thing to a mother he’d had, and now she was gone, and he’d let too many years slip by without contacting her. He could feel the guilt welling up inside.

  “Tilley, will you let me know when the service is? I want to come back to pay my respects.”

  “Of course I will.”

  Jonathan hung up the phone and laid down on the couch. His childhood began to mist over his mind like a warm summer rain.

  He remembered their seventh birthday. Fran put the party on in her backyard. There were balloons, and games and lots of cake. They were all laughing and playing when Jonathan noticed Matt coming out of the house with a quart jar full of water in his hand.

  Floating on the bottom was Jonathan’s pet hamster, BJ. Matt had put BJ in the jar and then filled it with water and put a lid on to watch him drown. All their little friends took off running and screaming. Fran got so mad she put Matt in her bedroom for an hour. It ruined the party and Jonathan never forgave him.

  There were times, however, he and Matt did have fun. As they grew older they hunted and fished together and could sit and talk about their beloved St. Louis Cardinals all night long. They both loved baseball and once in a while their dad would splurge and take them up to St. Louis to see a game. Those were some of the best memories he had.

  Then there were times Matt would change, get mean, and disappear for days. Jonathan always thought that was probably best, because he sure didn’t want to be around him when he was in one of his moods. No one knew where he went, but he always came back and seemed to be over whatever it was that made him that way…at least for a while.

  Their dad had lost control of Matt a long time ago, and Jonathan thought maybe he was hoping Matt would just go away some day and not come back. It wasn’t that he didn’t love him, he just didn’t know how to love someone like Matt. During their senior year in high school his dad got his wish. Matt took off. He left a note telling them not to worry; he just needed to get away. The family was perplexingly relieved. Even though Matt had been nothing but trouble and, at times cruel, Jonathan missed him. They weren’t identical twins, and certainly they had different personalities, but still they were brothers and they’d had some special times together. Jonathan knew however, Matt had some deep-rooted problems and for most of their family and friends it quickly became, out of sight - out of mind.

  Their dad was never a warm and affectionate guy, but they knew he loved them. He didn’t always show it, but it was there. As Jonathan grew up people told him his dad had never gotten over Kim’s death. Jonathan was his saving grace; kind, compassionate, a good student, who had many of his mother’s finer qualities. This was both a blessing and burden. Blessing around his family, burden around his brother. Matt made him pay for it more than a few times. Even with this, he still cared for Matt and wished him no harm. Deep down in his soul, however, he too was glad when Matt disappeared.

  Then there was grandmother Fran. A tall, statuesque woman with wonderful manners and a polite grin. She was always concerned about the boys being warm enough, and having the proper clothes for school. Jonathan found this amusing most of the time, but Matt hated it, and let her know it. To Matt, Fran was too doting. Jonathan, however, loved her like a mom; at least to the extent Fran would let him. When he was small, she’d let him crawl up in her lap on cold winter nights and they’d sip cocoa and read scary stories. It was those times she felt like a mother, or what Jonathan imagined a mother would be like. Then there were times she became very distant and detached. He’d catch her staring at him while he was reading. When he was little it scared him. As he grew up, he began to think, maybe he reminded her of Kim, her daughter. Gone forever, so he and Matt could live. She never did say anything about it, but Jonathan could feel it.

  In retrospect the family was very murky. It’s funny, when you’re young everything is very cut and dried, but as you grow up the gray areas of your life become bigger and things are not so black and white.

  The phone call from Tilley had stirred up lots of old memories, which had been dormant for years. He had so desperately wanted out of Independence, and now in a strange way he was actually looking forward to going back. It was just too bad it had to be for Fran’s funeral.