Steve Jackson - Murderers Row Volume Two

Murderers' Row: Volume Two published by:

WILDBLUE PRESS

P.O. Box 102440

Denver, Colorado 80250

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

WILDBLUE PRESS is registered at the U.S. Patent and Trademark Offices.

978-1-948239-47-9 eBook ISBN

Interior Formatting by Elijah Toten

www.totencreative.com

BOGEYMAN published by:

WILDBLUE PRESS

P.O. Box 102440

Denver, Colorado 80250

Copyright 2014 by Steve Jackson

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

WILDBLUE PRESS is registered at the U.S. Patent and Trademark Offices.

978-0-9905573-0-2 Mass Market Paperback ISBN

978-0-9905573-1-9 eBook ISBN

Interior Formatting by Elijah Toten

www.totencreative.com

Acknowledgements

The author wishes to express his grateful appreciation first to the law enforcement officers who participated in the writing of this story, especially Gary Sweet, Bruce Bradshaw, and Jeff Heck. And more than their help with this work, Id like to thank them, as well as other officers such as Bob Holleman and Jerry Schrock who have passed on, for their quiet, often unappreciated and unrewarded, service to the people they take an oath to serve and protect. Far too often the only notice the men and women in law enforcement receive is when a bad apple makes headlines, but those individuals do not represent the vast majority who accept the dangers, hardships and stress and do their jobs well on behalf of their communities. There are dragons in the world, and we should be thankful that there are also dragon-slayers.

I would be remiss if I didnt note the considerable contributions of the spouses of some of the detectives to this book so that we may appreciate from their unique perspectives the dedication and sacrifices their husbands make; the families also make sacrifices. So thank you Julie Sweet, Gail Bradshaw and Molly Robertson.

I would also like to thank my extraordinarily talented editor, Jenni Grubbs, and my partner at WildBlue Press, Michael Cordova, without whose expertise, extraordinary efforts and belief in this brave, new world of indie publishing, this story and the others found at WildBluePress.com might have never seen the light of day.

Lastly, I wish to thank the people in my life who make all the work, long hours, and absences worth it. First are my family starting with my parents, Donald and Charlotte, whose love, belief in me, and encouragement has never wavered; my sister, Carole, her husband, Bob, and my nephew, Michael, who supported me not only with their love but with shelter from the storm; my sister, Mary, who makes me laugh; and my much-missed brother, Donald, who reminds me of what it means to be a good man, a good brother, and a good son. A special tummy rub for Winkie the Wonder Dogsome might wonder why Id want to acknowledge a crazy, sometimes frustrating canine, but in the hardest and loneliest times of my life, he has been my big-hearted companion. I also count on the love and support of my children, Mackenzie, Hannah and Lillia, and their fine, young men, Eric and Iaian; and my newest reminder that there is no bottom to the well of love, my grandson Callum. I also thank Roger, Patti, Doug, Linda, Brian, Tom, Kathy, Tim, and Carla; I am so grateful that when I need someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on, a beer or a kick in the ass, you are there. And last, never least, my companion Janet Roll, without whose love and support these past few years, I would have been truly lost but instead am truly happy, there are no words to express my gratitude and love.

If the measure of a mans worth is the people who love him and are loved in return, then I am wealthy beyond all measure.

He stands on the edge of a foul dark pond as the cold winds of hell howl around him. In his cruel hands, he holds a collection of shiny pebbles that represent every child he took, subjected to unspeakable horrors and pain, and then remorselessly killed in the most terrifying manner imaginable. With each murder, the monster, this bogeyman, this nightmare, tosses a pebble into the bottomless waters causing ripples of misery and devastation to spread outward, engulfing his victims, their families, friends, police officers, communities, and even, as these sorts of beyond- the-pale atrocities becomes public knowledge, the national consciousness. They erode how secure we feel in our homes, how safe our children are playing in the yard, whether evil is winning the battle...

PART I

Every Parents Nightmare

CHAPTER ONE

January 19, 1985

A fter several days of cold, the weather on that Saturday in Mesquite, Texas, had turned downright balmy, with bluebird skies and temperatures climbing into the mid-seventies. Many of the towns citizens were out enjoying the sunshine in the parks, playing softball, and watching their kids laughing and chasing each other on the playgrounds. Others used the opportunity to go for a drive in the countryside around Mesquite, a satellite city fifteen miles due east of Dallas.

Detectives Bob Holleman and Bruce Bradshaw were home with their families enjoying a quiet Saturday afternoon when they got the call about 3 p.m. It was a moment that would forever alter the partners lives, though in drastically different ways.

Holleman was watching television with his wife, Molly, and their seven-month-old daughter, Emily, when the phone rang and he picked up. He listened with a frown, then Molly heard him say, Well keep me updated, before he set the receiver down. Thirty minutes later, the phone rang again. This time he asked her to hang it up after he walked back to his home office. When he returned, he was dressed for work. Looks like weve got a child abduction; they think its the real thing. I dont know when Ill be home.

Molly understood. A seven-year veteran with the Mesquite Police Department, her husband worked with Bradshaw in the Crimes Against Juveniles unit. Most of these calls about missing children turned out to be false alarms; the child would be found at the neighbors or playing in a field and handled quickly. Occasionally, a parent locked in a custody battle took, or didnt return, a child, but those cases were usually resolved within a few hours.