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Through the Eyes of Madness—Part Twenty–one By: David K. Montoya

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Through the Eyes of Madness—Part Twenty–one
By: David K. Montoya


Tidwell found Grayson and Father O'Neil seated at his desk. The younger detective popped to his feet as his partner approached. "What was all that about?"

"Remind me to tell you later," Tidwell shrugged off. "Hello Father."

"Detective," Father O'Neil responded and nodded.

"Okay," Tidwell said with a sigh and clasped his hands together, "what's going on?"

"The father wished to meet with his son, but would like us to be there when he does so," Grayson replied. It was evident that he studied his partner's lined face as he spoke.

"I just feel more safe with you two there," Father O'Neil explained to the detectives. "I fully understand he is behind bars, and this may be my only chance to speak with him before he is shipped off to prison."

"No, I completely understand, Father," Tidwell said.

Grayson tilted his head with a concerned look at how friendly his partner was acting. "You good, Dean?"

"Yeah, Partner, yeah…I'm good." Tidwell replied and turned in the direction of the holding cells that were placed in the back for suspects that could not be in public sight. "Right this way, Father."

The three men walked to the back where the hidden holding cells were. In a string of structures, it was the final chamber at the end made of Plexiglas that held the man now publicly known as the Copycat Killer.

In front of the transparent housing sat a single chair faced the prisoner inside.

"You ready," Grayson asked softly.

The elderly priest nodded.

"We are right here, if you need us," Tidwell said before Father O'Neil begin his walk to meet his illegitimate child.

"You sure you're okay," Grayson whispered.

Tidwell responded with a thumbs up.

Father O'Neil hobbled over to the chair and seated himself. Before him stood a silver hair man who was ghastly white in that moment, Grayson realized where he had seen the man before. It's the man from the stairwell! The one who I help with his beer and ball gag! Grayson thought. I led him straight to Betty.

Father O'Neil cleared his throat and said softly, "Hello Patrick."

"It's PJ," he said without looking at the priest.

"All right PJ," Father O'Neil said. "I am yo—"

"I know who you are, Priest," PJ interrupted. "What would you like to know about your bastard son?"

Father O'Neil lowered his had and sighed that was filled with anguish.

"I'm an open book," PJ said calmly. "Whatever you want to know, Father.

"Why," Father O'Neil forced from his mouth.

"Why? What?" PJ asked, still refusing to look at the old priest.

"Why… Why kill those poor souls?" Father O'Neil finally cried out.

"Oh. Oh that wasn't me, that was Jack," PJ answered. "I didn't touch those women."

Angered by that last statement, Grayson stepped out and yelled, "That's horse shit! I was there! It was you sawing on the woman's body, there was no other man in that room!"

Tidwell grabbed Grayson and shook his head, no.

"You're right," Grayson admitted. "I apologize Father."

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About the Author

For a good part of two decades David K. Montoya was an active writer, artist and business entrepreneur in the micro–publication world. In 2013, turned his pen in for a microphone and became a podcaster for the following five years—and even did a small stent in independent Hollywood. But, now, he's come home and is ready to begin weaving new tales for this magazine. Follow his misadventures at: www.davidkmontoya.com.
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