Book I of the Winnebago County
Slowly, meticulously, Sgt. Corky Aleckson is piecing it all together—the deaths of the judge, the public defender and the prosecutor are all connected. What she hasn’t figured out is who else the serial killer is after and why . . . or that her investigation has put her on the murderer's list as well.
"This is very well written . . . intriguing story line . . . rich descriptions."
~Scott Whittenburg, The May Day Murders, See Tom Run
"Excellent visuals and introduction of settings. All of the locations are so vivid--she puts us right there."
~Deborah J Ledford, twice nominated for the Pushcart Prize, is the award winning author of six published shortstories.
This is really good story-telling – nicely plotted, with a detailed, rich setting. A great job of introducing exposition without drowning the reader in it yet still giving us a clear sense of place and character.
"Hello, Rebecca.”MURDER IN WINNEBAGO COUNTY
She regarded me warily. “Hi.”
“I’m Corky Aleckson. I went to school with your father.”
“You did?” She brightened, her pretty little face transformed by the smile.
“I know what it’s like to want to know about your dad. My own father died before I was born, just like yours did.”
“He did? I thought I was the only one.” She held my eyes with hers.
“No, there’s you, there’s me, and I’m sure there are a lot of others we don’t know about. It happens sometimes.”
Rebecca looked forlorn and I wanted to pull her in my arms and hold her.
I paused before changing the subject. “There’s another reason I’m here, Rebecca. I’m a sergeant with the Winnebago County Sheriff’s Department . . .”
“. . . A real cop?” She interrupted. “Then where’s your gun and your uniform and your badge?”
“I suppose I don’t look much like an officer today without my uniform on.”
I pulled my badge from my back pocket and held it up for her. “You are very smart to ask whether I am really a cop. Some people might not think of that. My gun is locked in my car. I don’t need it here.”
“Oh. Wow! A girl cop."
I smiled at her sudden enthusiasm and approval. “Rebecca, I was here last night, checking on some things and I need to ask you if you heard or saw anything unusual.”
She gave me a blank look and shook her head “no”.
“It would have been pretty late. Did you hear any alarm noises? Things that haven’t happened before?"
She continued shaking her head. “Uh, uh. But you can ask my grandma if she did.” She looked past me to a woman standing in the doorway.
When I turned around, a large woman dressed in black was studying me. How long had she been listening to our conversation and why was she hovering in the doorway?