Hidden Secrets Kill | Teen Ink

Hidden Secrets Kill

May 1, 2014
By HurdleStar GOLD, Johnson City, Tennessee
HurdleStar GOLD, Johnson City, Tennessee
19 articles 13 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Live like you're dying.


“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Ladies and gentleman, I give you Mr. and Mrs. Rider.” The preacher shows the couple to the group of people gathered in the chapel. Everyone applauded them as Derrick and Synthia walked down the aisle, hand in hand and smiling. They could never be more in love.

*****


Not long after the newlyweds had settled into their apartment, Synthia noticed Derrick was acting strangely. Derrick would sneak out early in the morning and Synthia wouldn’t hear from him until midnight. On rare occasions he would disappear for a few days. Synthia felt this behavior was out of character for Derrick.

Synthia spent her Saturday reading a novel on the couch. She looked out the window and the city was so beautiful below her. Cars raced past and time seemed to stop. A beautiful chaos below. She couldn’t help but think, Derrick is down there doing who knows what. What if he’s hurt? Synthia constantly worried about her husband. She was a good wife. No matter how late Derrick would come home she always had dinner on the table for him.

Derrick walked through the door around ten that night and saw Synthia passed out on the couch. He looked into the dining room and dinner was sitting there on the table, just like always. He kissed her gently on the forehead and tucked a blanket up under her chin. He sat down at the table and ate. Time could not have been ticking by any slower for Derrick as he watched his wife sleeping so peacefully. He was anxious though. Something was bugging him. Derrick was fighting a battle with himself. In all his thinking, Derrick barely heard the phone ringing at one AM. It was a muffled ring until Derrick snapped out of his thoughts. He was scared the phone would wake Synthia. He answered it but he said nothing until he was able to step out in the hallway.

“Why are you calling me at this hour?” Derrick was frustrated. “My wife is asleep! Do you want to wake her? She can’t find out about this.” “Shut up! I am your boss. I’ll call you when I want!” Derrick took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. He was leaning against the wall and slammed his head back against it. “Yes sir.” It was killing him. “Good. Now, you will do as I say. Grab your stash but keep it hidden. You must be inconspicuous and do not draw attention towards yourself. Do you understand? Meet me at Barker Bridge in Frasier Town.” The phone went silent. Derrick closed the phone, turned to go back inside, and threw a punch at the wall. What has he gotten himself into?

Derrick slipped back into the apartment. He made sure he was quiet as he shuffled to the back room. He carefully closed the door and moved towards the closet in the back of the room. Derrick opened the closet kneeled. Sitting on the floor was a heap of clothes. Shoving the clothes aside, Derrick turned the dial three to the right, two to the left, and one to the right. The safe popped open and inside was Derrick’s treasure. Derrick stood up and grabbed a briefcase from the top shelf. He put the small weapons in the case and closed the safe.

As he made his way out of the apartment he managed to rustle some papers on the floor. Derrick stopped dead in his tracks and his eyes darted in his wife’s direction. Still asleep, good. He gave a sigh of relief and slipped out the door. He jogged down the back stairwell and hopped in his car. He drove the route that he knew didn’t have as many street cameras.

Derrick sat under Barker Bridge for an hour. It was pitch black outside, not a street light in sight. A black sedan rolled up the dirt road. Both their cars were parked part way into the woods. A burly man with broad shoulders, dressed in all black, stepped out of the sedan. Two body guards followed him. They had strong gaits. “Do you have the package?” “Yes, I do, right here.” Derrick pulled out the briefcase and set it on a barrel. “Everything’s in there.” His boss took a step forward. Derrick could feel his palms sweating. It’s always nerve-racking dealing late at night. Derrick feared his boss. One wrong deal and he’d be shot in an instant.

“These weapons are good quality. It’s people like you, Derrick, that make the black market better than it’s ever been. Small nuclear weapons are a high demand now. You did well.” His boss and his guards returned to their sedan. The engine started and the car spun around and sped off. Derrick fell to the ground and cried. He felt the world on his shoulders, bearing down like a thousand sins.

Derrick got home in time to slip in bed and close his eyes before Synthia’s alarm went off. He heard her feet padding towards the bedroom door. He kept his eyes closed. Synthia leaned over and kissed his cheek. He could hear Synthia in the bathroom. She turned on the shower and he started to think.

What if she knows? I’d have to kill her. Should I tell her? No. I can’t tell her. She’s my wife though, she deserves to know. How can you live with yourself? You sell illegal nuclear weapons! You pretend like you aren’t committing a crime but you are. You are keeping secrets from the person you love. How dare you!

Derrick’s mind was racing. He couldn’t take the pressure anymore. He let out a scream. Synthia bolted out of the bathroom, frantically trying to wrap a towel around her. She held his face in her hands as he continued to holler. He wouldn’t sit still. She brushed her thumbs over his temples. Synthia climbed in his lap and calmed him down. “Baby, are you ok?”

Derrick snapped. “Get off me! I’m fine!” Before Synthia could react, Derrick drew his hand back and slapped her across her face. Synthia grabbed her cheek. Tears began to roll off her cheeks. She quickly put clothes on and started to pack a bag. “Honey no. Baby, come on. I love you. Please don’t do that.” Derrick begged Synthia to stop packing her bag. She wasn’t going to put up with it. He jumped over the bed and grabbed her arms. His grip left bruises. “I told you to stop!” Derrick beat her repeatedly until she blacked out. His rage was unbelievable. He sat down on the bed and cradled his head in his hands. “What have I done?”

*****


Synthia woke up on the floor. Her head was pounding and she was disoriented. What happened? She crawled over to the dresser and grabbed the house phone. She struggled to see straight, her hands were shaking violently. She dialed one number, 9. Then the next, 1. And another 1. Then there was a voice on the other line. It sounded like an angel to Synthia.

“911 what is your emergency?” Synthia was so overjoyed she could hardly speak. Tears of joy and relief streamed from her eyes. “Yes yes! Oh, thank god.” “Ma’am, are you okay?” “My husband just beat me. He’s gone now.” “What is your husband’s name?” Synthia didn’t even hesitate, “Derrick. His name is Derrick Rider. My name is Synthia.” “Synthia, we’re sending help. Stay where you are.”

Minutes later, Synthia could hear sirens coming down the street. Police opened the door to her room and found Synthia unconscious. Paramedics transported her to a hospital. When she woke up there was an officer in her hospital room. “Ah, finally, you’re awake. Mrs. Rider my name is Detective Hardings. I have been assigned to your case. I’m here to find your husband. Can you tell me everything you know about him? Any suspicious behavior prior to yesterday’s attack?” Synthia told the police everything.
*****


A knock sounded through the house. Derrick’s friend was out and he was alone. His heart started racing. “Who is it?” He yelled. “This is Detective Hardings with Baltimore PD. Open up; we have a warrant for your arrest.” Derrick refused to open the door. Cops busted the door down and tackled him to the ground while he was attempting to jump out the window. Detective Hardings held his face to the ground and locked him in handcuffs.

The police interrogated Derrick and found that he did beat his wife. He was placed in front of a judge but was found innocent. The judge called for Derrick to be sent to an insane asylum for mental testing. They sentenced him to a year in the asylum. Derrick got put into an isolated room.

Life in the asylum was torture for Derrick. After days of no contact with other humans, Derrick was actually elated to receive a letter from the outside world. It was signed by his wife. Synthia. She knew. How did she know? How did she figure out his secrets? Derrick read further into the note.


“Derrick, did you think I wouldn’t find the safe? I was cleaning out the back bedroom because my mother was coming to town. I wanted her to have a closet for her stuff and I moved the pile of clothes and found your safe. I hired a man to come crack the lock on it. I found your weapons and had them investigated by a specialist. Nuclear weapons? Really Derrick? I thought I knew you! I’m so stupid. I should have known. You stay out all day and night and I just shrugged it off all these months. Stupid stupid stupid! After all that I can’t believe I still love you. So I want you to know I didn’t tell the cops. I hope that spending time in that crazy house will change you. I miss the man I married.

Your wife, Synthia”


Derrick was filled with an uncontrollable rage. One tear rolled down his cheek. He was plotting all the ways possible to make sure he’d never get caught. Synthia was bound to turn him in eventually. He had to kill her. It’s the only way he can get away with it.

Derrick plotted for about a week. He waited and kept quiet. He didn’t cause any trouble, he just waited. And then he did it. He escaped the asylum. He somehow managed to get passed all the security guards and cameras. He did it. He’s out, free to do anything he can imagine.
*****


Synthia sat facing the TV. She flipped through channels. Nothing. Nope. Not interesting. Boring. She sighed and continued flipping channels. She stopped on the news channel. A name caught her attention. “It is confirmed that a man by the name of Derrick Rider has escaped from Fairview Mental Asylum yesterday evening. We will have more on this story after the break.” Synthia was terrified. Her jaw dropped and she took a big gasp of air. She thought she’d faint.

The door creaked open. Derrick left it ajar. Just enough to peep through and spot Synthia. His fingers fidgeted across the holster on his belt. He settled his fingers on the handle of the knife. He carried a bat in the other hand. Derrick advanced towards the living room where Synthia was watching TV. He steadied his breathing and counted to three in his head. You can do this. She knows too much. Just kill your wife.

Derrick raised the bat over his head and brought it down with a great force. He bludgeoned her with the bat. She fell to the floor, half her body slumped onto the couch cushions. “I’ve got you now. Say goodbye to your precious life Synthia.” Derrick grabbed her shoulder and rolled her over so she was facing him. Her head bobbed back and rested against the couch. Derrick leaned over and whispered in her ear, “I love you Synthia Marie Rider. Forever and always. Until death do we part.” Derrick kissed his wife one last time. He freed the knife from its holster. The blade glistened in the sunlight that peeked through the curtains. Derrick could hear Synthia’s heart beat pounding in his ears. He let out a deafening scream as he drove the knife into her heart. “No more!” He yelled at himself as he continued to stab her lifeless body. One in the chest and ten in her stomach. Eleven times. Representing the number of months they had been married.

His hands were bathed in her blood. He had it splattered across his face. It seeped into the carpet. He knew all of this, the body, the blood, the knife and bat, all of it was evidence. He spent hours disposing of the evidence. He burned the bat in a forest that was miles away; he dumped the knife in a lake a few cities over. Derrick washed the carpets and dusted the blood off all exposed surfaces in the room he didn’t wash his hands in the apartment because he knew the blood could be traced in the drains. He washed the couch cushions and the curtains. He was very thorough. Derrick made sure he wouldn’t get caught.

After he was sure all the evidence was hidden, he put Synthia’s body in a bag and put it in the trunk of his car. He drove up north into Canada. He found a place in Quebec. He drilled into the concrete in the basement and began to dig. He dug into the clay beneath the foundation and he kept digging. Derrick didn’t stop until he had dug out a hole fifteen feet in depth. It would have to do. Derrick dumped Synthia’s body into the hole. He started shoveling dirt over her corpse. That was the end of Synthia. Derrick was ready to start a new life. He could finally get his mind off the situation. Synthia was gone and no one else knew about his work. No one knew he sold small nuclear weapons on the black market. No one knew he killed Synthia.


*****

Police filed a missing persons report after a friend of Synthia reported her when she didn’t show up to work. Detectives searched for an entire year before they claimed Synthia as deceased. They searched for a long time because there was virtually no evidence of her murder. Of course Derrick was the first suspect but he was nowhere to be found. Synthia’s family had been suspicious of Derrick the whole time but they never came forward to the cops.

*****


Sirens wailed behind him. Panic struck him in an instant. He sped even faster and it became a police chase. Helicopters hovered above capturing footage of the chase. Police believe the car is loaded with drugs. The car finally spun out of control and ran off the road. The car landed in a large ditch off the highway. Police navigate the ditch and investigate the car. A hundred pounds of cocaine, meth, and other varieties of illegal drugs were found in the trunk of the car. Miraculously, the driver survived the crash. Canadian police identify the man. His name is Shawn Richards. Shawn is put in the back of a police car. He is taken back to the station for interrogation. Police run a DNA test on Shawn and find that the DNA matches Derrick Rider’s. Derrick had a fake ID and was living under the alibi of Shawn Richards. Derrick confessed to the possession of illegal drugs but he did not confess to the murder of Synthia Rider. The Canadian police were not aware that Derrick was a suspect for murder in the United States. The Canadian police sent Derrick back to the US to serve his time in prison. Derrick’s imprisonment was a televised event in the small town he had lived in.

Everyone had their suspicions. Deep down the entire town knew Derrick murdered Synthia, but they grew silent as they watched the event on the news. The silence was a remembrance for Synthia. Synthia’s family was relieved to see Derrick going to prison. He was sentenced for life with no chance of parole. The family was happy even if Derrick was sentenced for the wrong crime.

Epilogue


Synthia’s murder case was never officials solved, though the whole town knew who had killed her. Synthia’s body was not found until 2009. The case had been closed 50 years prior to finding her body. The police had come to the conclusion that opening the case again would be pointless. Synthia’s family was long gone. Synthia Rider never got justice for her murder.

As for Derrick, he spent the rest of his life in prison. While in prison, he was constantly thinking about his wife and what had happened. He drove himself crazier each day. Derrick reached such a high level of mental instability that he was placed in solitary confinement. Prison guards feared that Derrick would harm an inmate. 75 years had passed before Derrick passed away from a terminal illness. He lived a very torturous, miserable life. Guilt plagued him his entire life.

In the end, despite a closed case and Derrick being sentenced for possession of drugs instead of murder, Synthia was sent to a morgue for autopsy. Her report was posted in the local news paper. “Synthia Marie Rider, born 1939, died 1959. The case was never officially solved but it is believed that her husband, Derrick Rider, murdered her. Synthia died from repeated stab wounds to the abdomen and one wound in the chest. The knife had been driven straight through her heart...” After 50 years, Synthia was finally able to rest in peace. Her body was buried in a cemetery in her home town. A few close friends showed up to her memorial service but no family members showed, (mostly because her close relatives were no longer living and her distant family did not know Synthia very well).


The author's comments:
I originally wrote this piece for a school writing contest and it won.

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