DEAD SET: Detective Jack Creed Mysteries - The Complete Short Stories Collection: 7 Book Box Set (Detective Jack Creed Murder Mystery Books Series 9) Read online

  DEAD SET

  Detective Jack Creed Mysteries

  The Complete Short Stories Collection

  DEAD SHOT

  DEAD RINGER

  DEAD WRONG

  DEAD BOSS

  DEAD STAKES

  DEAD LUCKY

  DEAD SILENCE

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  DEAD SHOT

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  DEAD RINGER

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  DEAD WRONG

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  DEAD BOSS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  DEAD STAKES

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  DEAD LUCKY

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  DEAD SILENCE

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  About The Author

  DEAD SHOT

  By

  C T Mitchell

  CHAPTER 1

  “I'm worried about Nicholas.” Pam Weatherby leaned back in her beach chair and closed her eyes behind her over-sized sunglasses. “I know you mean well, darling, by planning a holiday in the middle of the week, but I can't relax when I'm forever thinking of Nicholas. What if he does something while we're away? I'd never forgive myself if something happened and we didn't do anything.”

  “We are doing something. We're enjoying ourselves on holiday. What else is there to do?” Charles Weatherby tugged the wide brim of his Panama boat hat further down on his forehead. “Nicholas isn't a child, Pam. He's nineteen years old. He's in university. The only thing he should do while we're away is attend class and pass his mid-terms.”

  “You know that's not what I mean.” Pam bit down so hard on her bottom lip that she tasted blood. “What if he has one of his episodes?”

  “Why don't you check his YouTube channel? That's the only way any of us can keep track of his comings and goings anymore.”

  “Brilliant idea!”

  She picked up her phone from the white plastic table and tapped on the YouTube app. She knew Nicholas's channel address by heart now. Nic Says. They'd watched and re-watched every single video he posted to try to make sense of the dark turn his life had taken since starting college. Pam knew every parent of a troubled child always said, “But he was such a happy boy,” and, “We have no idea where this came from,” but, in their case, it was true. Nicholas grew up wanting for nothing. Anything he could ever want was just a credit card swipe away. The parade of psychologists they'd taken him to in the last year said it made him entitled and out of touch with reality. He was used to getting what he wanted, and when that didn't happen with the girls he showed interest in, he had the angry teenage boy equivalent of a temper tantrum: he posted nasty things about them online. First it was social media and then he started a YouTube channel with his video blog ‘Nic Says.' It turned out Nicholas says a lot of things and none of them were flattering to the girls who refused to date him.

  “Maybe you just came on too strong,” Pam remembered telling him after he uploaded his first video. “That can happen when you like someone very much. Why don't you try again with a little less demanding and a little more sensitivity? I'm sure that will do the trick.”

  But it didn't do the trick that time. Or the next time. Or the time after that. It seemed every girl Nicholas approached always had some excuse. They had to study. They had to work. They had a boyfriend. To their credit, they did their best to let him down easy, but it wasn't as easy for Nicholas to put the constant rejection behind him.

  “Oh, look, darling, Nicholas’s uploaded a brand new video.”

  Pam clicked the play button and held out her phone so they could watch it together. Nicholas's face filled most of the frame. He didn't look dangerous with his shaggy blonde hair and perfect smile. He looked like the sort of boy who would help an old lady cross the street, not mug her and kick her while she was down. He certainly didn't look like the sort of boy anyone would turn down for a date, though Pam admitted to herself that she was more than a little biased on that front. The only thing that seemed even the slightest bit off about Nicholas was his eyes. They shifted back and forth like an over-wound metronome, particularly when he started ruminating on screen.

  “Is he on something?” Charles muttered. “He looks as high as a kite.”

  “Hush, darling, so we can hear what he has to say.”

  “Hi everyone, this is Nicholas. Today on Nic Says is 'payback a bitch – like you lot.' I'd like to dedicate this very special episode to Stephanie, Kate, and Michaela. I tried to be nice. I tried to be rational. I tried to think of all the reasons you might be telling the truth as to why you were too busy to grab a damn cup of coffee or see a movie with me, but I kept coming back to the same conclusion. You're lying. You're lying through your perfectly made up lips, your pearly whitened teeth that Mommy and Daddy paid for, and now it's payback time. You're about to find out that payback is an even bigger bitch than you. See you in Hell, girls.”

  Nicholas jostled the camera around so he was no longer the focus. Instead, it showed a busy university campus. Nicholas’s university, Southern Cross University, Lismore campus. Pam and Charles heard a round of pop-pop-pops that sounded like firecrackers going off. But it wasn't. Amidst the screaming and running and swearing as someone big and burly and dressed all in black tackled Nicholas, they realized their worst fears were fully apparent. Those weren't firecrackers going off. Those were gunshots.

  CHAPTER 2

  When it came to taking down an offender, Detective Jack Creed was always taught to react first, think later. Judging by the fact that he was the only one who tackled the kid with the sawn off hunting rifle when he started shooting up the campus forequarter, he was the only one that remembered the lesson from police academy.

 
; “I need back up!” he shouted to the campus ground staff, who were standing around with their mouths hanging open. What were they trying to do, catch flies? They better shut their traps and get to helping him out before he beat this squirming, swearing kid into submission himself.

  “Just hold him a little while longer, Jack.” Detective Constable Jo Boston-Wright hit the ground like she was sliding into home plate and cuffed the kid. She didn't mind getting down and dirty in the name of the law. That's what Jack liked about her. Jo was the complete opposite of Creed. She could play both sides of the card as needed, rough and tumble cop or undercover first year freshman. Today she was both.

  “Boston -Wright to the rescue,” he joked.

  “As usual” She grinned and brushed her blonde hair out of her face. “I swear campus security is pretty much friggin’ useless. You would think they’d be better prepared, especially when you see all that stuff in America with shootings in schools and colleges. But I suppose this is Australia and we are in country town Lismore. Nothing like this has ever happened before.”

  “Prepared and using your training when it happens are two completely different things.” Jack sat up and dragged the offender with him. “I just wish we got here two minutes earlier.”

  “It is what it is,” Jo said.

  “Tell that to the families of the girls he shot.”

  “Who is doing the media spokesperson thing this time? You or me?” She stood and dusted off the knees of her jeans. “Cause if it's me, I need to put on something that's more we-are-deeply-saddened-and-in-shock instead of I-just-woke-up-after-an-all-night-bender.”

  “You're the camera-ready one, Jo, not me. Besides, the media prefer a good looking blonde with curves over a wrinkly, grey haired fifty-something-year-old,” Jack said with a smirk, knowing full well it would rile up Ms. Hyphenated Surname.

  Jo didn’t bite. “Why wouldn’t they. Not bad for 42. And you? Fifty? Ha, closer to sixty, I’d say.”

  Creed shook the offender, who howled for his lawyer. “Good call. Besides, I have this prick to deal with.”

  “Do we have an official statement yet from Chief Johnston?”

  “Not yet. He’s probably doing his hair hoping to steal your media career. Just say the usual, ‘We are continuing to collect information and process the crime scene. We'll update you when we're able.'”

  Boston-Wright grinned again. “Are you sure it should be me and not you addressing the media?”

  “I'll flip you for it next time, glamour puss.” Jack intimated as he mocked by pouting his lips to look like a chicken’s arse. He rattled the offender by the handcuffs. “You're coming with me. There's an interrogation room with your name on it.”

  *****

  “For the last time, I told you I'm not saying anything until you get me a lawyer,” Nicholas insisted. “Call my parents if you want. They'll give you the number of the guy we use.” Jack burned a hole with his eyes straight through the kid with the private school boy looks, something Jack despised with all his public school heart.

  “Oh, you've said plenty already,” Jack said. “We've had you on our radar for months. Your videos speak louder than anything you could think to say right here and now.”

  “What videos?” Nicholas squirmed in the gray plastic chair. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

  “Don't play dumb with me, sonny,” Jack snapped. “You know exactly what videos I'm talking about.”

  “No, I don't.” Nicholas squirmed so hard the chair almost tipped over. “You say I'm the delusional one, but it's not me, it's you.”

  “Why did you shoot those three girls today?” Jack switched from confrontational to interrogational. Maybe Nicholas would slip up and give away some details for the crime. Maybe not, but trying to catch him off guard or in a 'I'm above the law' delusion was better than nothing. He'd shut up faster than a politician in the middle of a scandal once that lawyer actually showed up. “You had a campus full of people. You could take aim at anyone. Why them?” He slapped three pictures down on the table in front of Nicholas. The three victims. “Why them, huh? Why Stephanie, Kate, and Michaela?”

  “Why not?”

  “What did they ever do to you?”

  He shrugged. “What did they ever not do for me? Plenty. I didn't exist to them. I was a non-person. Now they don't exist either. Don't bother telling me they're just wounded, Detective. I know my aim is impeccable. I've been hunting with my dad since before I could walk. I don't shoot to wound or maim. I shoot to kill.”

  CHAPTER 3

  “How long did you have him going till he clammed up?” Jo stood next to Jack behind the two-way mirror. They could see into the interrogation room but Nicholas couldn't see out. She had come to the police station as soon as the press conference ended. She was still wearing her ‘official police spokesperson' blue tailored suit and high heels with her hair pulled back and twisted into a low chignon.

  “He can't deny the shooting. He's the one that posted the video online.” Jack sipped at his steaming cup of black coffee. “We can stick that on him, maybe more. We're gunning for hate speech. Those videos he posted…” Jack shook his head. He'd seen a lot in his years as a detective, but he never thought one nineteen-year-old kid could have that much hate inside him toward women. He was the sort of kid that made Jack want to hire a bodyguard for his wife and daughter. He couldn't protect those three girls on campus from this monster, what made him think he could protect his own family? “Those videos are our most damning evidence if we can find them.”

  Jo frowned. “What do you mean if we can find them? They're up on his YouTube page. The guy is obsessed with documenting his every thought and move.”

  “Was obsessed with documenting his every thought and move,” Jack corrected. “He's deleted them from his account and the guys in IT can't find a cache. We'll need to get a warrant to search his home to see if we can find the original copies.”

  “So he's smarter than he looks, huh?”

  “Seems so.” Jack took another long draw from his coffee cup. “His parents are on the way to the station. I think we should separate them and question them to see what they knew while the boys work on getting that warrant approved.”

  Jo nodded. “Count me in.”

  *****

  Charles Weatherby looked up when the door to the tiny interrogation room opened. He pitied any claustrophobic people that might be picked up for questioning. He didn't mind enclosed places and it already felt like the walls were closing in on him.

  “Mr. Weatherby, I’m Detective Creed.” Instead of offering to shake his hand, Jack set a folder of crime scene photos in front of Charles. “I'm in charge of your son's case.”

  “Do you think my wife or I had anything to do with this event?” Charles asked. “We're just as in shock as anyone else. Nicholas is a good boy.” Jack glared back at Charles with a look that showed he had heard it all before.

  “Good boys don't shoot up a university campus, do they Mr. Weatherby?”

  “He's lost his way.” Charles examined his fingers and spun his wedding ring around and around his finger. He looked at anything and everything but the crime scene photos. Jack didn't really blame him. Three families lost their daughters today and his son caused it. Why would he want to be reminded of that? Denial is easier. Denial helps you sleep at night.

  “What changes did you notice in your son within the last few months?” Jack asked.

  “You mean when he started posting those horrible videos?” Charles looked up and held Jack's gaze for longer than most would. Not bad. He had some guts. Too bad his kid took the coward's way out and took his aggression out on others instead of himself. “Three months ago, Nicholas started changing. He withdrew from us and refused to tell us where he was going or who he was seeing. He dropped all his old friends and only wanted to be alone.” Charles frowned. “At least that's what he said. Pam, my wife, and I aren't so sure. We could hear him talking to someone late at night. More like arguing. The
y were planning for something, but when we confronted Nicholas about it, he said we were being paranoid and to leave him be. We were forced to subscribe to his YouTube channel if we wanted any hint of what he was up to. He never talked to us anymore. It was like living with a ghost. He was there but not there. Pam and I are just as shocked as anyone else by today's events on campus. Believe me, Detective Creed, if we could have stopped it, we would have.”

  “When you say you heard him arguing with someone at night, did you ever question him about it?”

  “We tried, but he always got upset and told us to mind our own business and stay out of his life.” Charles spread his hand out in front of him in a hopeless, helpless gesture. “That's when we subscribed to his YouTube channel. Why would he tell the world what he was thinking but not his own parents? We didn't understand, though we wanted to. We took him to the best specialists money could buy, but he shut everyone out. He shut us out most of all.”

  “Could you hear this other person at all? Did Nicholas ever talk to them over Skype or some other video call program?”

  Charles shook his head. “He could have been arguing with himself for all we know. With how his health was recently, I wouldn't doubt it. He's very fragile emotionally and mentally, Detective Creed. We sheltered him from the harshness of people and the world at large, but I think what we saw as a service actually was a disservice. He couldn't cope and now those poor girls and their families are suffering because of it.”

  “We're going to need to search your house,” Jack said. “It's probably best if you're not there. With the media crawling around, you're going to thank us for that advice later.”

  Charles nodded. “I understand. We were on holiday. We can just go back up there. I can leave our cell number in case you need us for anything. Do you have children, Detective Creed?”

  Jack sipped at his rapidly cooling coffee. “Two. My son lives in Sydney. He’s an architect. And my daughter, she’s at uni. She and her mother live in Brisbane. Better medical care up there. I see them when I can, which is mostly on weekends.”

  “If your daughter did something so horrible and so heinous that you couldn't wrap your head around it, what would you do?”