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    Horrorcore
    Horrorcore
    Horrorcore
    Ebook153 pages2 hours

    Horrorcore

    By GiAnna Moratelli

    ()

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    About this ebook

    The murder of Margie Portman and her daughter, Tisha is the worse Springfield P.D. has seen for a long time. Tisha's best friend, Cheryl has been sexually assaulted and stabbed but she's still alive. Having returned from a Horrorcore concert, Lt. Joe Novelli has to determine if the violent music had anything to do with the murders and assault or if the few suspects he has are the guilty party. It's a twist that even surprises Novelli.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGiAnna Moratelli
    Release dateDec 23, 2015
    ISBN9781311480491
    Horrorcore
    Author

    GiAnna Moratelli

    Born in El Paso, Texas, I grew up in Iowa and was lucky enough to have parents that that had money to travel, a truck and 45' fifth wheel, and liked to travel. I've been in almost all of the fifty states, from the east coast to the west and have visited small bits of Canada and Mexico. As a major in history, I've visited the battlefield of the Little Big Horn; on three different occasions, Gettysburg Battlefield, and the Battle of Athens (which most have never visited, it sits on the border of Iowa and Missouri). I've been to as big a places as the Smithsonian Institute and small places as the grave of Chief Wapello located in Agency, Iowa and The Grotto of the Redemption in northern Iowa, which is well worth anyone's time, especially if you like rocks and history. I grew up, as ole horsemen say, on the back of a horse. I started riding by myself when I was three and when I was sixteen I started working at the tracks of Standardbred racing barns during the summers when we weren't travelling. After graduating high school I bought a couple of race horse; a six month old dark bay filly named J.C's "Blitz" DeVane and a little later a yearling sorrel colt named "Breezy" Judge, which I trained and raced myself, only needing to acquire a fair license to do so, compared to those who had pari-mutual license. My horse racing came to an abrupt end a few years later with a barn fire, in which none of the 12 head of horses died, The horse I'm pictured with is Breezy, the best horse I ever owned (and I've owned a lot of horses of different breeds) and passed from this earth when he was 25 years old. I went to college, attended R.O.T.C.; went to Fort Knox, Kentucky for basic training and earned a B.A. in history. My interest lying mostly in American history. Other than the above, many other experiences in life, and living in different places, have given me good resources for my writing: 1. Staying with my grandparents on their farm when I was very young is where I learned to ride and gave me knowledge of farming, which I later helped a farmer near where I grew up. 2. I work for my father; who is a Certified Public Accountant, doing taxes and bookkeeping. I started working for him when I was in middle school, and after health problems in our family, have come back to help him as of 2019. 3. I managed my dad's used car lot in Fairfield, Iowa. 4. I drove a semi with a 52' trailer over the road for 13 years. 5. I worked real estate and did real estate appraisal as a second job to OTR. 6. I've done construction work (helping my dad and brother put up my dad's office building from the ground up, plus many other projects for my dad, many which included pouring concrete every Fourth of July for more years than I care to think about. 7. I worked for a local manufacture making cabinets 8. While in college I cleaned at a hotel to pay my way through the first two years. 9. After college, while driving OTR (after the RE job) I sub-taught for two years. 10. I worked security for four years. 11. I do know how to cook, make garden and can food. That's my life wrapped up in a peanut shell. I decided to write fiction under my pen name and non-fiction under my real name Linda Scott. Just a good idea I thought to keep the two of them seperate.

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      Book preview

      Horrorcore - GiAnna Moratelli

      Horrorcore

      From the Case Files of

      Lt. Joe Novelli

      By

      GiAnna Moratelli

      COPYRIGHT 2015

      SMASHWORDS EDITION

      This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Chapter One

      It was great! I never dreamed that it’d be so frickin’ great! the black teenage girl exclaimed to her friend, a girl sitting on her right. She ran her fingers through her wild tangled hair as she ignored a teenage white boy sitting on the other side of her, barely glancing at him. He in turn ignored her, looking out the window through the darkness.

      Tisha, I don’t want a hear ya usin’ that word, a black woman seated in the front passenger seat of the car said. She twisted her slender figure in the seat and looked at the girl with orange streaks dyed through her short curly hair, Ya know what I told ya about usin’ that word. It’s the next thing to profanity. Your father and I don’t approve of it and we won’t have it.

      But, Momma it’s -.

      Don’t ya, ‘but momma,’ me. I don’t want a hear it, she snapped and turned back to the front. She looked at the man driving, You’re daddy and I let ya go to that so-called concert with your friends to have a good time, not get influenced by those fanatics.

      They aren’t fanatics, Mom.

      Well they ain’t up standin’ are they? They haven’t any respect for anyone, including themselves or they wouldn’t be dressin’, actin’ that way. Ain’t that right, Lonnie?

      Lonnie Portman nodded as he turned on the signal indicator, Not too many virgins there I don’t imagine.

      There or anywhere, Margie said lowly.

      Tisha’s friend leaned over to her. Unlike Tisha, she had light skin and bleached blonde hair with streaks of purple and pink. She wore black eye shadow and liner for the gothic look. It’s cause your dad’s a preacher, she said lowly.

      What did you say, Cheryl? Margie asked looking at the girls in the lighted mirror of the car’s sun visor.

      Cheryl’s dark eyes flashed as she looked at Margie’s reflection in the mirror. Nothing, Mrs. Portman.

      You can call me, Margie. Ya don’t have to call me, Mrs. Portman all the time. How many times have I told you that?

      Cheryl slightly shrugged as she watched Margie put on her lipstick in the mirror, I know, but. But it doesn’t seem right calling you by your first name.

      I don’t know why, Margie flipped up the visor then dropped her lipstick in her purse, I’m not one of your teachers.

      If you girls are gonna argue, ya can do that at the house when I’m not around, Lonnie stated. He turned left onto a newly paved street.

      Oh, we’re home already? Tisha stated looking out the window past Cheryl.

      Looks like it, don’t it? Lonnie replied. Be nice when the city gets street lights to the end of the street.

      They’re probably waitin’ till they have houses built the rest of the way down the street, Margie said.

      Lonnie nodded, Probably. He pulled the car up in front of the double garage of a red brick ranch style house and shut off the ignition. Thank God we’re here, he mumbled getting out of the car. A tall muscular man, he walked to the back of the car and using the key, opened the trunk as the teenage girls bounced up.

      It was so cool, Cheryl exclaimed.

      Lonnie took a backpack from the trunk, I’ll call you tomorrow, Tish. He hugged his daughter then handed the backpack. It’s very nice seeing you, Cheryl.

      You too, Mr. Portman.

      Call me sometime. I’ll take you out to lunch and we can talk, Lonnie said and gave her a hug.

      Yeah, sure, she replied as Lonnie handed her a light suitcase.

      Lonnie took a large, green backpack from the trunk, Looks like you were planning on going on a camping trip, he said as he handed it to the thin, white boy.

      Bryan smiled, Might have been better.

      What did you expect with a bunch of girls?

      Yeah, I guess you got that right, Bryan said and smiled, It was nice meeting you, Mr. Portman.

      You too, Bryan. Sure you don’t need a lift someplace?

      Thanks but -.

      I told him he could spend the night with us since we weren’t sure what time we were going to get back, Margie stated where she watched from the front of the car.

      Bryan nodded, Appreciate it, Mr. Portman but my aunt’s gonna pick me up in the mornin’. But thanks anyway, appreciate everything, he said quietly and shook Lonnie’s hand.

      Lonnie shook his hand, Have a safe trip home. He followed Bryan to the front of the car where Margie was standing. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Marg, he kissed her on the cheek, I enjoyed our weekend.

      Margie stepped back from him, in the direction of the house, See ya later, Lonnie.

      I could stay if -.

      Margie frowned and shook her head, I’ll talk to ya later.

      Lonnie nodded, slightly waved and got in his car, watching Margie as she turned and swayed up the concrete driveway to the house. He started his car, backed out of the driveway and started down the partially lit street. At the corner he stopped and waited for a red sports car. As it turned onto the street and passed him, Lonnie lifted his finger from the steering wheel, Asshole.

      Lieutenant Joe Novelli rolled over and looked up at the white ceiling, his dark brown eyes scanning it, as if looking for something, anything that might put him back to sleep. Finding nothing, he rolled over on his side and looked at his wife lying beside him. He stroked her long dark blonde hair and gently kissed her forehead. Although he couldn’t see her bright hazel eyes he knew she was wide awake. I’m supposed to be the only one who can’t sleep, why are you awake?

      Constance ran her finger down his cheek to his mustache and goatee, Maybe I’m not tired enough to sleep. So what are you going to do about it?

      Joe brushed his lips across hers and kissed her gently. I’d like to think you’re not being able to sleep has something to do with us not having enough sex last night, but you haven’t slept well for the last four weeks.

      I know.

      Wouldn’t have something to do with Diane Blaskovich breaking in and tearing things up, would it?

      Probably.

      I meet some really crazies out here you know?

      I know, Constance replied. I’ll get over it.

      That is all that’s bothering you, isn’t it?

      Yeah, Constance nodded. I don’t know what else could be.

      You’re sure?

      Yeah.

      Joe nodded. He and his wife had stayed with Sheriff’s Deputy Tom Zane, his best friend, after their house had been broke into. She had stayed alone with Tom, who was working nights, while he was at work and forensics was in their house looking for evidence. Since then Joe noticed that Constance hadn’t been as flirtatious as she had been around the deputy. Not that it bothered him, but he couldn’t help but wonder if something had happened between his best friend and his wife that morning that left her feeling guilty.

      If you don’t know, I don’t, Joe stated. You can talk to me, you know. There’s nothing that’s going to happen that’s so bad we can’t talk about it and work through it.

      Constance swallowed and nodded, I know. It’s just. It feels like our homes been invaded by someone we don’t know. It feels dirty. I clean and clean but -.

      Constance, it’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay, I promise. Joe brushed his lips across hers, They say sex helps you sleep.

      You think they know for sure? Constance kissed him.

      Why don’t we try it and find out?

      I like that idea.

      Joe kissed her, I know you do.

      Lonnie looked up from the Bible lying in his lap as his phone rang. He looked it, sitting on a small table across the room, as if it’s ringing annoyed him. Standing, he laid the book on his chair and crossed the room, Hello... Yes… Good morning, Andrea… No, I haven’t talked to her since I dropped her and the girls off late last night… Have you talked to Tisha’s friend, Erika Donovan? She might know what they’re doin’ today… Lonnie shrugged as he listened to the woman, I don’t know what to tell ya. They didn’t say they were goin’ anywhere today… I don’t know but Tisha just got her driver’s permit, so maybe they’re out drivin’ around. Lonnie frowned, I’ll try and get in touch with Tisha, if I don’t talk to her by this evenin’ I’ll go over and check on’em.

      Andrea Anwar had just hung up her phone and it rang. She quickly picked up the handset, Margie…? Oh, Susan it’s you… No, it’s just, I’ve been tryin’ to get hold of Margie, have ya seen her or heard from her…? Have you talked to Cheryl…? She hasn’t called…? I just got off the phone to Lonnie, just before you called… I know, but I didn’t know who else to call… I know, but he said Tisha got her driver’s permit, so maybe -… Oh, I didn’t know, Rex was off today. That’s probably what they’re doin’, runnin’ round with him… Of course, I’ll let you go. Thanks, Laura.

      Andrea frowned as she hung up the phone. She looked in the phone book and punched in a number, "Good mornin’, Laura, this is Andrea. Have you heard from Margie…? Do you know if Erika has talked to Tisha or Cheryl …? Me and Susan been tryin’ ta get hold

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