Brush Creek Charlie, D. B. Reynolds [top non fiction books of all time TXT] 📗

and consistency going here at the processing center.”
Derrick felt big butterflies torturing his insides. The phoniness ate away at him like a mad cancer. “We surely try our best.”
“Well, keep up the good work.”
“Will do.”
Dr. Bonnet marched through the door with relief. Relief also came on Derrick’s behalf. Two dislikes could’ve never created a like.
Derrick wiped sweat from his forehead and said, “I’m so glad that that uppity white Texas whore is out of my sight. She just irks the living fuck out of me. And why did you have to stop and talk to that ugly, that pale, that square skinny bitch?”
“Is there a crime against me asking about Lisa Wallace?”
“No crime, whatsoever.”
“I’d was wanting to know if the police made any progress in catching the sicko who butchered her all up.”
“That woman, she just works my last good nerve!”
“Did you get your estrogen today?”
“Probably didn’t get enough of it.”
Derrick and Mitchell followed Kathy out of the conference room. All three carried plates of food and beverages in both hands. The prayer vigil for Lisa Wallace took place at the opposite end of the complex.


CHAPTER—32

Twenty-Five year old college graduate student Colleen Stone jogged through the well-manicured grasses and brushes of Gillham Park. Colleen didn’t mind embarking on her early morning jogs through the park along with her large pitbull named “Turbo”. The Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays fast approached. She knew the shedding of a few pounds would put her ahead of the big meals. The crisp morning air ejected long streams of misty breath from her mouth. Colleen also knew that being an attractive woman would put her at high risk.
The recent rash of women being killed raised her conscious to high levels. Turbo bolstered a firm muscle tone and a set of teeth strong enough to rip apart the hide on a cow. Hiding off in a cluster of bushes in complete silence was Charles “Charlie The Machete” Rastelli. His set of menacing eyes watched Colleen and Turbo relay around the dirt trail several times. Charlie didn’t limit himself from committing grisly murders on totally innocent women. His thirst to murder and mutilate more females remained unquenchable.
Surprisingly, Turbo didn’t pick up Charlie’s scent from the thick brush. Charlie stood at a far enough distance to keep the dog from sniffing a trail leading to a human subject. The strange irony to him striking again was during the early morning hours. He did his best work in the late evening hours and well into the night.
This time, if he wanted to kill another canine, he’d have to contend with a strong pitbull. Turbo was much more vicious than the average dog. He’d have to deal with a dog locking his jaws around his arm. Colleen and Turbo jogged to the upper section of the trail. She made a gruesome discovery.
“Oh no!” Colleen shrugged, cupping her mouth in disgust. “There’s another black woman killed and dumped here in Gillham Park.”
Turbo started to behave strangely. Using his sharp canine senses, he spotted Charlie up in the bushes from about twenty yards away.
“Turbo, what’s wrong, boy?” Colleen asked, staring in the direction to where he barked.
Turbo could’ve barked his head and neck out of place.
“Who’s up there in the bushes?”
No one up in the bushes answered. Charlie didn’t move a single muscle from where he stood.
“Answer me, or I’ll turn my dog loose on you,” Colleen threatened, backing away from the badly-decomposed body.
Still, no one answered. Colleen used her strongest sense of sight to see who might’ve been hiding off in the bushes. She concentrated harder, and the side profile of the ugliest face, it came closer into focus.
“Who are you and what are you doing up there?”
Charlie refused to make any replies.
Turbo hungered to be turned loose and mangle his master’s would-be attacker. As Charlie turned to flee, Colleen caught a split-second view of his frightening face. She wasted no time getting on her cell phone to call for help.
“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” the operated asked.
Nervously, Colleen said to the operator, “I’ve discovered a dead body here in Gillham Park.”
“Mam, could you please tell me your exact location in Gillham Park?”
“I’m close to the intersection of Brush Creek Boulevard and Gillham Avenue.”
“We’ll send out a unit.”
“Thank you.”
The response time for officers and detectives arriving at the scene was quite surprising. Carey Schroeder arrived rather promptly. The homicide division had more than their hands full since several Brush Creek murders hung high in the balances. Squad cars and a coroner’s van spurred nosy neighbors from along Gillham Avenue to come out on their porches. Dead bodies found in Gillham Park was commonplace. Over a course of twenty-five years, enough bodies to create a makeshift cemetery were scattered along the legendary park.
Carey made a shot straight for Colleen since he knew she’d made the discovery. “Mam, I’m homicide detective Carey Schroeder with the KCPD. How are you doing this morning?”
Colleen had calmed down since discovering the decomposed body. “Other than finding the black woman dead in the grass, my morning was going just fine.”
“What is your name?”
“Colleen Stone.”
“When did you first notice the body?”
“Must’ve been after jogging through the trail with my dog a few times.”
“I see you’ve got your dog trained real well.”
“Turbo only attacks on command.”
“How’d you react after finding the body?”
“After first, the woman looked like she was lying there sleeping. I’m originally from New York, and I’m quite used to seeing people sleeping outside on sidewalks and in parks.”
“So, bodies lying on the ground is nothing new to you.”
“That’s right, detective,” Colleen gulped. “As I looked closer, I noticed she was naked except for her white shirt covering part of her chest. To be honest, I didn’t know if it was a man or a woman, with the person being so strongly built and all.”
“Were you and your dog the only ones here around the park?”
“Yes we were.”
“You sure about that?”
A sudden jolt struck Colleen. “Know what, detective? There happened to be a man hiding up in the bushes.”
“Did you get a good look at him?”
“When I threatened to turn my dog on him, he stood still for about a minute. Then, he ran further off into the bushes. I must’ve caught a split-second glimpse of what he looked like.”
“In a few short words, using your own personal description, how did he look?”
“It all happened so fast, but he looked like he’d been scarred up in the face. Looked like he might’ve gone through a severe acne problem.”
“Could you wait here a second?”
“Sure can.”
Carey went to his car and brought back a leather binder filled with papers.
He produced a composite sketching of someone the KCPD had desperately wanted to capture.
“Mam, did he look anything like this guy?” Carey asked Colleen, his hopes built up high.
Colleen took less than a minute to make her assessment. “Like I said, detective, the glimpse I got was for only a split-second. But it’s possible that he could’ve looked like this drawing.”
“Are you sure?”
“Beyond positive.”
“Are you aware that the person in this drawing might be linked to both of the Brush Creek murders?”
“No, I wasn’t aware of that.”
“We’ve worked long days in trying to apprehend this suspect.”
“Could he be the same guy who killed the police canine down in Brush Creek, and then jumped a couple’a you all’s police officers?”
“So, you did see the story on the news or read about it in the newspaper?”
“The story flooded the airwaves for several days. And rightfully so, since a maniac’s on the loose.”
Carey rested his hand across Colleen’s shoulder. “Mam, you could’ve easily been his next victim.”
“Not with Turbo by my side,” Colleen assured Carey. “My dog has been trained to kill the enemy. He’s been trained to rip away at flesh and bite off arms.”
“Him being stashed away in the bushes, you were definitely a candidate for his next victim. Serial killers are wise with their time and usually stalk their victims before making their move. I’ll bet he’s been watching you come to park every morning with your dog for your daily jog.”
“Detective, you don’t think my pitbull could’ve stopped this guy?” Colleen second-guessed.
“He killed one of our canine units, why couldn’t he kill your dog?”
“Wasn’t your canine a German Shepard?”
“One of the largest, strongest dogs we had in the unit.”
“Maybe you’ve got a good point.”
Carey jotted down a few notes. “Do you work or go to school around here?”
“I’m a grad student up at UMKC.”
“Your major?”
“Marketing and finance.”
“Great field to go into.”
Ducking under the crime scene tape which stretched around the perimeter near the slain body was Lieutenant Overstreet. As always, he nursed a warm cup of freshly-brewed coffee from a local convenience store. “What we got here, Carey?”
“Black female, possible late twenties, body discovered by a jogger who goes out on early morning jogs with her dog.”
“No positive identification?”
“Not at the time.”
“Any of