Chapter 2

Detective David White groaned as he pulled into the parking lot of the gas station. He could see the blood sprayed on the front doors. The responding officer had said the clerk and a customer had been gunned down by an unknown assailant. There was no money stolen so it clearly wasn't robbery. David parked his car behind the police tape and got out. Although it was three in the morning, it was still hotter then holy hell. David took off his jacket and threw it back in his car. He ran a hand through his wavy black hair and ducked under the police tape. The officer guarding the scene recognized him and let him pass. David was a celebrity in the force. He was a hotshot homicide detective from Chicago who had migrated to Evanston eleven years earlier. David had taken down a lot of notorious criminals, including a psycho who was going down in the history books as the "Chicago Butcher." He hacked up five families in a three month period. David finally tracked him down when he found a fingerprint inside one of the bodies.

David's partner, Tony Ortiz, was waiting for him inside. Tony was an Evanston native, although he was half Mexican, who had been serving on the force for twenty years. He and David made a good team.

"What have we got, Tony?" asked David.

"Seems like a robbery but no money is missing. Might be a drug hit," replied Tony. David nodded in agreement.

"And one of these guys was collateral damage," concluded David. Tony nodded in response. David surveyed the scene. The clerk had been shot in the head where the customer had been shot three times in the chest. Both hadn't had a chance to defend themselves. There was a shotgun hidden under the counter.

"Clerk was probably killed first. Killer probably guessed he had some sort of weapon back there," theorized David. Tony checked the customer's pocket.

"Randolph Mercer. 45. Seems he's leaving behind a wife and two kids," explained David, handing David the wallet. David studied the picture Tony had found. Mercer had two sons. One seemed to be about four where the other one was probably Connor's age or around it.

"Lets run a check on Mr. Mercer. Maybe he has some deep, dark secret that was worth killing for," ordered David. Tony nodded and left to call the station. David was beginning to think Mercer had been the target. Most of the rage had been taken out on him. David sighed. This was going to be a long day.

……………

Connor awoke to the sound of his mother, Holly, getting ready for work. She was a pediatric nurse at the hospital and always had to get there early. Connor got out of bed and went downstairs to the kitchen where his mom was brewing some coffee. She gave him a sleepy smile.

"Sorry, honey. Did I wake you?" asked Holly, her green eyes focusing on Connor. Connor shrugged.

"Doesn't matter," he assured his mother, sitting down at the counter and putting his down.

"Want some breakfast?" asked Holly, pouring herself a cup of coffee. Her long brown hair was tied back in a ponytail and bobbed up and down every time she moved. Holly glanced over at Connor. She was always struck by how much he looked like her and his father. There was no doubt he was their son. Connor had her hair color and her nose. Connor had full, thick lips like hers too. The most striking feature Connor had was his eyes. His grey blue eyes that were identical to his fathers.

"Mom?" inquired Connor, catching her gaze for a second.

"Sorry. Dozed off there," apologized Holly, taking a sip of coffee. Connor smiled weakly as his mother sat down. She put a hand on her son's head.

"Baseball starts soon," reminded Holly. Connor nodded. He was the star pitcher of the Evanston White Sox. He had nearly led his team to a big win last year but they got shut down in the playoffs. Plus Connor had the surgery on his stomach. Holly leaned down and looked into Connor's eyes. She could tell he was deep in thought.
"What's up, sweetie? Something bothering you?" asked Holly. Connor shrugged.

"Just thinking," answered Connor. Holly sighed. Connor had been the target of a nasty school bully the past school year. He had to see a psychologist because of all the torment he went through. The bully had really killed his self-esteem. A tear fell down Connor's cheek. He was thinking about it again.

"Oh, Connor, baby," comforted Holly, standing up and walking over to rub Connor's back.

"He made fun of everything Mom. The fact that I'm small for my age. The fact that my lips are huge. The fact that I'm an outtie. I can't help it if my lips are big for my age or that my belly button sticks out." He started to cry. Holly pulled him into a hug. She was used to him having these sudden painful memories come to the surface. If she comforted him, he'd get over it quickly. Holly held Connor close and kissed him all over his face. Connor stopped crying. Holly smiled and kissed him on the cheek and mouth.

"Connor, your lips are one of your best qualities. Girls are going to go head over heels for you someday. And I think you have an adorable belly button." Connor rolled his eyes.

"Mom," he moaned as Holly kissed his cheek again. Connor loved his Mom to death but she seriously went overboard when it came to kissing. He smiled though as she planted one more kiss on his cheek.

"I love you. Hang out with Jake today. I'll be at work. Your father got a call this morning so don't expect to see him," warned Holly. Connor nodded. Holly gathered her a purse and said her final goodbye to Connor.

"You're an awesome kid, Connor. Don't let anyone tell you any different," said Holly. Connor smiled. They kissed goodbye and then Holly left. Connor sighed and went back to bed.

………….

Jake woke up and started scratching his neck and stomach. At first thought he had some bug bites. Then he saw his arms were covered in red dots. Jake gasped and held up his shirt. His entire body was covered in red dots, Chicken pox. Oh no. Soon word had spread around the house and Jake was back in bed with a thermometer in his mouth and Kate and any kids who already had chicken pox standing around his bed. Jake grumbled as his head started to ache. The thermometer started to fall out of his mouth.

"Keep that under your tongue, Jake," snapped Kate, putting it back in her son's mouth. Jake groaned a reply and put a hand on his head. After what seemed like an eternity, the thermometer peeped. Kate took it out of Jake's mouth and examined it.

"103.4. You are sick, Jake. Bed rest, oatmeal baths, and fluids for you," ordered Jake. Jake groaned.

"It's not that bad, dude," assured Jake's sister, Sarah.

"Easy for you to say. You didn't get it over summer," moaned Jake. Sarah shrugged as she and the other kids left. Jake shot daggers at their backs as they left. Fine, just leave me here, he thought. Tom Baker poked his head in the door.

"Jake's sick?" he inquired.

"Chicken pox," answered Kate. She turned to Jake, smiling gently.

"Try to get some sleep. It will make you feel better," assured Kate. She put a hand on Jake's head before turning off the light and leaving.

"AND NO SCRATCHING!" ordered Kate from down the hall. Jake rolled his eyes and lay down on his side. That's when he realized that he hadn't seen or heard anything coming from Seth Murdock's house this morning. The window had been open this while time and not a sign of life over at the house. Jake sat up and stared at the house. It was quiet. Too quiet. Jake would have further pondered the mystery but the fever was too powerful. He drifted into a troubled sleep.