EDGE OF SUSPENSE: Thrilling Tales of Mystery & Murder by R. Barri Flowers

was raped,
strangled, and dumped in the woods like yesterday's garbage. Over
the next four years five more women were believed to have been
murdered by the killer, dubbed the Bagley Killer because of the
community where the murders took place. To this day, the killer has
never been identified, though the killings inexplicably stopped
after that.
    "In a chilling irony, the younger brother of
Bagley Killer victim, Jocelyn Parker, is a detective with the
Detroit Police Department's cold case squad. According to Detective
Joseph Parker, his sister's death has never been forgotten."
    "Jocelyn meant the world to me," the
detective said somberly. "Losing her when I was just a kid was the
worst thing that could have ever happened to me. I look forward to
bringing her killer and the killer of those other women to justice
someday."
    "This sentiment was echoed by Detective
Parker's partner, Detective Conrad Tate," said the reporter.
    "There are lots of crimes that go unsolved,"
Detective Tate said. "Our job is to try and dust the cobwebs off
any local homicide crimes and breathe new life into them. Catching
the Bagley Killer would certainly be a feather in our cap and good
for the community. As always, we'll do our best."
    "Which is about all we could ask for," the
reporter said. "Especially when we're talking about a cold case
that shows no sign of thawing out anytime soon."
    I cut the radio off and lit up a cigarette
musingly. Without even realizing it, tears began to stream down my
face. I wiped them away, but they kept coming as if to wash away my
sins.
    It was time for me to fess up to what I'd
done, and probably should have a long time ago. Carrying around
something of this magnitude for so long was something I wouldn't
wish on my worst enemy.
    Who, at the moment, happened to be me.
    * * *
    I wasn't a particularly religious man—far
from it. But here I was at a church, ready to open myself up and be
rid of the burden I'd carried for two decades.
    I was sitting in the confessional uneasily
as the priest took his place.
    "How can I be of service to you?" he asked
in a gentle voice.
    I hesitated, wondering if I really wanted to
confess. The fact I had showed up at all, knowing the consequences,
gave me my answer.
    "I've sinned, Father."
    "How, my child?"
    "In ways you can't begin to imagine."
    "I can imagine many things," he said. "Tell
me about these sins."
    I sighed, wanting badly to smoke a
cigarette. But now was not the time or place.
    "I have killed," I told him.
    "Who did you kill?"
    "Women."
    The priest paused. "Go on..."
    I swallowed. "Six in all. I'm sure you've
heard of the so-called Bagley Killer—"
    "You are this killer?"
    "Yeah, Father, you're looking at him—"
    The priest sucked in a deep breath. "Tell me
why you killed these women."
    "That shouldn't be too hard. The first was
an anger-retaliation type thing."
    "And the others?"
    "Because I liked the way it made me
feel."
    "How did it make you feel?" he prompted.
    "Like I was in control and couldn't be
touched."
    "Do you still believe that?"
    "What do you think?"
    "I think you've found that you can't control
the consequences of your actions, including for yourself, and that
everyone can be touched—either by God or Satan."
    "So am I doomed, no matter what,
Father?"
    "That depends on where you go from here," he
said.
    "It may be straight to hell," I said
brusquely. "Or back to the world I know."
    "Let me help you," the priest offered.
    "Do you think I should turn myself in?"
    He waited a beat. "I think you should do
what you feel is right. It may be the only way to come to terms
with what you've done."
    I stood. "Thanks, Father."
    "Will you come back to talk?"
    "I doubt it. I think I probably already said
enough. Goodbye, Father."
    * * *
    I drove around in circles trying to build up
the courage for what I was about to do, till it became crystal
clear.
    I ended up back at the cemetery. The rain
had begun to fall and was not ready to show me any mercy.
    The dark of