5 Years Ago 2:30 AM

The neon lights of the convenient store flickered as Brandon Sheffield tried calling his brother for the third time.

"C'mon pick up," he begged anxiously into the phone.

He exhaled in relief when his brother picked up.

"What do you want?" the voice on the other end of the line asked, annoyance threaded in his tone.

"You're supposed to come in tonight to relieve me from my shift. Where are you?" Brandon complained.

"Something came up. I can't."

"What do you mean you can't? I've already been working for over eight hours!" Brandon looked up as the door dinged, signaling a new customer.

A tall balding man wearing a coat in the middle of a hot summer night glanced his way. Brandon swallowed a knot of unease as he took in the man's shifty eyes and the slick of sweat on his forehead.

"I told you. Something came up, Brandon. Just finish the shift for me."

Brandon sighed in frustration. "I can't always cover for you. It's not fair to me. Get over here, now."

"Listen, I had a couple beers. I can't seem to make it to work. You know how it is."

"You've been drinking!" Brandon whispered loudly into the phone, while trying to keep an eye out on the suspicious customer.

"What do you want from me? It's not that big of a deal. Just work the shift and I'll work one of yours another day! Stop acting like a little bitch."

The balding man stepped towards the counter and Brandon relayed one last message over the phone, "You owe me. Big time!"

He pressed the button to disconnect the call before forcing a smile on his face. "Find everything you need?"

"You here by yourself?" the man asked Brandon, ignoring his question.

Employees were trained to never admit to being alone in the store.

"No, sir. My manager and another worker are in the back. Did you need help with something?"

Brandon saw hesitation flicker in the man's eyes. He hoped the man didn't ask to speak with the manager because his manager was probably at home sleeping.

"Nah." The man waved his hand in the air, his eyes darting from the register to the cigarettes behind Brandon. He placed a case of bottled beer on the counter. "I also need a pack of cigarettes. Give me a ticket too."

Brandon pulled one of the lottery tickets from its case.

"Tonight just might be my lucky night," the man said, grinning. He waved the ticket in the air before leaving the store.

Brandon gave a small smile and nodded. He hated working the overnight shift.

Brandon began sweeping the store. He heard the familiar ringing of a new customer and without looking up, called out, "Hello! Just let me know if you need any help!"

When he didn't hear a response, he looked up. The store was empty.

Brandon's hurried steps paced around the store to see if he just missed seeing the customer. He didn't see anyone.

"That's weird," he whispered, his eyes shifting to the notification bell on the store's door. Shaking his head, Brandon  locked the doors and picked up the bag of trash he needed to throw out. Using the side door, he walked outside to the back of the store where the large dumpster stood.

A loud banging sound caused him to jump.

"Crap!"

Brandon took a steadying breath before adjusting the trashbags in his hands. His steps to the blue dumpster were steady and cautious. A bead of sweat fell down his back and he licked his dry lips as his eyes checked the area around him.

It was quiet except for the sound of light traffic in the distance. If he listened carefully, he could hear his own heart thumping in his chest. Brandon tossed the bag of trash up to the dumpster and turned around to face the store when a glass beer bottle rolled across the hard pavement to his feet. He stopped and looked down.

"What the hell?"

With a furrowed brow, he bent to pick up the green bottle. Brandon tossed it in the dumpster.  He took a step forward when the sound of another bottle rolling against the pavement caught his attention. He looked down and there was a second beer bottle at his feet.

His breathe caught in his throat and his chest tightened. He slowly turned his head to look to his right then his left.

Nothing.

He was alone. Brandon bent over to pick up the second glass bottle when something quickly came up from behind him. It was a thin wire. He struggled against the person behind him, gasping for breath. His jerky movements eventually stilled.

The person holding the wire let Brandon fall to the ground. The stranger looked around to make sure no one was watching before tossing the thin wire into the dumpster and walking away.

Present Time: Apollo's Junkyard

"Hi, you must be Apollo." Lucy had her hands in the air to prove she didn't have a weapon. Apollo's dog stood behind him growling as his owner held the rifle to Lucy.

"What are you doing by that car? It smells like something died in there."

"It's a long story but I promise I'm not a murderer. Listen, you can call the cops I don't care...just don't shoot, okay?" Lucy was begging with him to see reason.

"I already did call the cops," the old man spit out. "You some kind of thief?"

"I'm not sure what you're talking about. I thought this place was abandoned so I snuck in thinking I could get some car parts to sell on eBay," Lucy was lying and she hoped he believed it.

She could see the old man wavering, and added, "I promise I'll leave quietly if you just let me go. It was stupid of me to think I could try and find some stuff to sell. I'm just broke and needed money."

"Why were you standing by the DeSoto? What's in that trunk that's got you so interested? I saw you went straight for it in my security cameras."

Lucy's eyes widened at his statement. She tried taking a step away from the car while answering, "It's a beautiful car. Of course I would want to look at it."

"Well I'll let the cops decide what happens next. You're lucky I caught you before my dog did."

Apollo stepped forward and peered into the trunk. He motioned for Lucy to remove the tarp. She cautiously did and he cursed. "That's a body!"

Lucy didn't think it was necessary to state the obvious but then Apollo put his gun down and called the police again to notify them of the body in his car. Lucy would've made a run for it except Apollo's giant beast threatened her with his snarls, ready to attack.

Twenty minutes later, detectives Holden Lahr and Vicki Cruz drove up to Apollo's Junkyard along with a few officers. Lucy stood in a corner while Apollo's dog kept her in place. Apollo stood a few feet away from them, his gun at his side.

Holden stepped forward. "Hello, we're looking for Apollo."

"That's me. I'm glad you're here. I caught a murderer!"

Detective Vicki Cruz stood behind Apollo and rolled her eyes. She and Holden shared a look that conveyed the message, "He's just another nutjob."

"You caught a murderer?" Holden asked Apollo who nodded excitedly.

"We were told a dead body was here. Where is the body?" Detective Cruz asked impatiently.

"It's in the trunk," Apollo answered, suddenly timid around so many police officers.

As the officers went to examine the body, Vicki Cruz sighed. "Where is this alleged murderer, sir?"

Apollo pointed to Lucy who sat in fear next to the growling canine.

"Sir, I need you to put your dog away," Holden ordered.

Apollo walked over to his pet and pulled it away from Lucy.

A few minutes later, Holden began questioning Lucy about her identity and her presence at the junkyard.

"Like I told Mr. Apollo, I just snuck in to find some car parts to sell. I shouldn't have. I know that now, but I have nothing to do with this body he keeps talking about."

Holden stared at Lucy quizzically and nodded. "Stay here for the moment. You won't be able to leave until I tell you to. Got it?"

"Well, I have to go before the last bus leaves. It's my ride home," she explained. She hoped he didn't ask her why she wasn't driving. Then she reminded herself that not everyone was prohibited from driving because they had a suspended license. She could just tell him she didn't have a car or something.

"Lahr!" Holden's partner called out to him.

He turned to Lucy and signaled to he would be just a moment. He walked over to Vicki and asked, "What do we have? Is it another one of O's victims?"

Vicki shook her head. "Nah, this person's death isn't recent. It's mostly bones now. It's too old to be our guy's. What's the deal with the woman? That old man claims she's the killer."

Holden chuckled. "Not likely. She seems pretty shaken up. I think she's just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Honestly, I think something's not quite right with this Apollo character."

Vicki agreed. "Right? He's overeager with that gun of his. Maybe I should put him on my list of suspects."

"But why call us at all? He could've just kept it all a secret. Why call us and accuse a woman who broke into his junkyard?"

"Maybe he got cold feet and needed someone to blame? Like you said, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe he didn't expect anyone to ever find that body. Or maybe she really isn't as innocent as she seems," Vicki suggested as she glanced at Lucy who had her arms wrapped around herself.

"It's possible. Let's try and figure out who the corpse is and go from there." Holden sighed.

Vicki nodded while staring at Lucy. "It's strange though, don't you think?"

"What is?"

"That woman. She doesn't seem like the type who would break into a junkyard and steal." Vicki was referring to her very neat appearance. Lucy wore jeans, silver flats, and a white peasant top-- not exactly an outfit a theif would don.

A few minutes later, Detective Cruz walked up to Lucy.

"Hello Ms. Hanson. We're done with questioning you and we were lucky enough to get Mr. Apollo to drop any charges of trespassing. My partner has your contact information so we'll be in touch if we need anything further from you, okay?"

"So I'm free to go?" Lucy asked.

Vicki couldn't help but notice her eagerness to leave, "Yes. You're free to go but I would strongly recommend you not break into any other property in the future."

Lucy nodded and found herself walking through a small sea of officers as she exited the junkyard.

Later that Evening, Lucy sat in front of the green journal cursing it in her mind. She wanted to turn it into the police but wouldn't it be suspicious now? She had just finished talking to Jake over the phone and as much as she tried, she couldn't bring herself to tell him about it. What would she say?

"By the way, honey, I found a diary that I think belonged to a serial killer. I wanted to make sure so I went to an area where he hid a body and the owner caught me and called the police. Don't worry...I'm not drinking or in jail even though it sounds like I've lost my mind."

Lucy shook her head as she thought of how ridiculous she would sound. Jake worried enough about her. If she told him what was going on, it would make him worry even more and she didn't want that. Without thinking, Lucy opened the book and picked up where she left off.

10/01

Salutations, my dear friend. I did something bad again. I purposely let the beast out to hunt. I have found he loves to toy with his victims. Tonight, he frightened a young man at a gas station. The method of his kill seemed a bit different. It was more...intimate.

Ahhh but I cannot describe to you the feeling of being privy to someone's last moments. I sit here as his grim reaper. It's a heady feeling...the power of ending a life. It's as if I were drunk. I have heard people say that they are drunk on life. I am drunk on death. Is that not ironic?

Yours until death, O

Lucy hoped to keep reading but her cellphone rang. The display showed Dillon's name.

"Hello Dillon, what's up?"

She could hear someone panting as if they were out of breath on the other end before he answered.

"Lucy, I'm so sorry but I need your help."