Jeff The Killer Picture Novels & Stories

Because if you live outside this city, or if you don’t read the tabloids, or if you don’t listen to the podcasts — you might think he was just one more name on one more news cycle. He wasn’t. He was a ghost. He had been a ghost for years. Nobody had ever seen his face. Nobody had ever caught him on a traffic camera. Nobody had ever taken a photograph that wasn’t blurred silver and shadow. Seventeen confirmed kills, the last count I’d seen, and every one of them a man who had hurt someone smaller than himself and walked away from the consequence. A tabloid writer had called him the Verdict Killer in a piece three years ago and the name had stuck because it fit. Because what he did was not mur

Almost everyone looked sad, or they were very good at pretending. ‘I’m terribly sorry for your loss. A very elegant lady Miss Arora,’ said the inspector solemnly, nodding and reflecting on a previous meeting with Esha. ‘This is a case of murder. The room seems to be untouched ... Nothing is missing ... The victim was found wearing a camisole and a black trouser. She has a severe bruise on her head. It is murder, alright. Ah! A terrible affair. Everything points to the fact that the murderer got away, at least for the time being. I gather that she was last seen at 4.30 by the housemaid?’ ‘Yes,’ Jyoti croaked from the corner. ‘I see ...’

He had been a promising kid, fast with a blade and loyal to a fault. Now, he was a corpse. In a bid to humiliate him, they sat his body upright, his head lolling back against the chair, his eyes wide and vacant, staring at nothing. "My God, Uncle. Look at his chest," Nathaniel whispered. I stepped closer, my jaw tightening until it ached. Stefan’s designer shirt, once white, was now a deep, matted crimson. But it was what was pinned to the shirt that caught my eye.

"One day, it could be you in the crosshairs. Not because of who you are. Because of who I am." She turned. The morning light cut him in two—half the man who'd buried his face in her shoulder last night, half the expressionless killer at the end of the hall. "What? One day you'll shoot me?" The color drained from his face. "I'd sooner put a bullet in my own head." His voice had dropped to something almost inaudible. He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to. Her tears fell. She didn't wipe them. She let him see.

It's obviously jealous. “Don't give it meaning. I just want to make sure that she is still in jail because when we had a transaction there, she looked like the one who shot me. And yesterday I saw him at the mall,” he explained to his mistress “Oh, come on, Jeff. Maybe she's dead, and she's just haunting you,” he said seriously. “Your joke is not funny!” he replied angrily. “I'm not joking, I'm serious!” “How are the kids?” he asked the mistress.

“When Jeffery challenged you. I was hiding in your office while you and dad discussed options.” His face falls. “You heard that discussion.” “Every word. You were not going to fight. You were going to step down. I was afraid you would leave us. Then I saw the fight and you were growling and the way you held him by the throat. One handed you held him of the ground and threw him like a ball.” “I don’t like to kill sweetheart. Not anyone especially family. I’m not a killer.” “You killed today.” “Actually, no, Kendall, Alex and Jacob killed today, I passed judgement and they carried the sentence out.”

Scrolling through, the three of them Jeff took wasn't half bad, so he set that one up to print as poster size to mat and frame for the mantle. He paused, rubbing a hand over his jaw. Staring at him and Raven, that sensation from before crept back into his chest. Jeff had taken three pictures. One with Noah's chin on her shoulder from behind, her head down. Another with her face turned to look at him. And the last with their faces close. They both were grinning in all three, but something was different about his expression in the last shot-right when he experienced the pressure behind his ribs the first time.

“No. He keeps to himself mostly so he’s hard to figure out. I couldn’t tell if he was happy or sad.” Octavio was ready beginning to get a clue of what was happening. It all pointed to Jeff turning up dead and it was going to be a big dent in his ranks since Jeff was one of his best. If someone could get to Jeff, then he had to be more careful than he had ever been. “Do you recognize this vehicle?” detective Jim handed over a photo of a black jeep which was parked in front of a burnt up house in the woods. Octavio frowned at first, then loosened up “that’s mine.”

All I could do was continue looking at the camera. Rarf deserves to die for treating human beings like this. Was Rarf watching this, watching me. Because I was wearing a long sleeve, the bracelet he gave me was still on my hand and hidden if not Rarf would have taken it out. I took out his mother's necklace and left it in the drawer back at home. So I do have a mother and she is out there. Does she not know that it is me, her Reina or all she can see now is a killer?

I responded. "The Serpent Mafia? Really?" He asked with incredulity written all over his face. "They wanted to give this to me" I said as I placed the picture in my hand on his desk and slid it to him. He picked it up and stared at the picture for a while. "And who in the big wide world is this?" He asked as he stared at me with his eyebrows arched upwards in confusion. "It's the killer" I said, "The one from the Kansas City nightclub case" I explained. His eyes widened in surprise.