When I was a little girl, my father would tell me the most elaborate stories. You had your basic zombie and princess tales. The funny ones, scary ones, or even the occasional tragedy. Some would make my skin crawl and keep me up all night. A particular one has stuck with me to this day. It was always just a little too lifelike for me.

The story took place in a small town in Arizona called Highpoint. Highpoint had lots of open, flat, desert land which made it the prime spot for large companies to grow. These companies generated a lot of income for the community, making most of its inhabitants wealthy. This, of course, made the owners very popular and respected. These owners were Samuel L. Curry and Darrel Romani. They owned Curry Industries and Romani Enterprises. Both were fabric companies with revolutionary products. The most notable innovation was Romani’s nonstaining fabric. It was impossible to stain, and no one knew how. Romani said there was a secret to his success, but a magician never reveals his secrets.

It had been a long time since Darrel Romani had been seen in public. Some said it was his age, the death of his wife, the paranoia, or maybe he was just up to no good. My personal favorite was that he had gone insane. Any of these would be a valid reason, but it was all just rumors; no one really knew for sure. In reality, the paranoia perspective would have been the best angle. This is because Curry Industries had been trying to find a way to make nonstaining fabric at the same time Romani Enterprises was. Of course, Romani beat Curry to it, and let’s just say Curry was a bit envious of Romani’s success. However, for all of his faults, Curry wasn’t a quitter. He kept trying to find a solution, and after months and months of research, he still had nothing. Curry hired the brightest minds, sparing no expense, and still could not find anything. This made him extremely suspicious of Darrel.

“Espo, do you think Darrel Romani is up to something? I’ve spent close to three years trying to find a way to make fabric stainproof, and he does it for a few months. There is something wrong about all of it,” Sam Curry told his longtime friend Detective Esposito.

“I don’t know, man, he always seemed a little fishy to me. I can take a look into it, if you want,” Esposito offered.

“That would be great. If there is anything I can do to help, just let me know,” Sam said excitedly.

Sam walked away swiftly, more determined than ever to find out just what exactly Darrell was up to.

Detective Esposito and Mr. Curry spent the next few days digging up everything they could. They went through old company records and incident reports, they looked for people who had been fired or quit, and they checked missing persons reports. In their search, they noticed a few things: All of the former employees had either moved away or died within six months of leaving their job. The only person they could find was Grace Thomson, because she had quit two days before. Also, most of the incident reports should have gone to court, but were mysteriously cleared up. However, the worst part is that all of the missing people had contact with Romani within 48 hours of going missing.

The most recent was Partick Newman. He worked for Highpoint Photography. He had been hired to take pictures of Romani’s new fabric line. The catch was that he had to do it at Romani’s estate. Curry began interviewing some of the community members who knew Patrick. Most of them said the same thing: He was hardworking, good at his job, and generally well-liked.

When they interviewed his boss, Mr. Lawson said, “Patrick is an honest, hardworking, fun guy. We are in for a huge loss if he can’t be found.”

“Is there anything you can think of that might help us with our investigation?” Esposito asked, trying to get some more information about Patrick’s connection with Romani.

“Well, the last time I saw him was around 4:30 Saturday afternoon when he left for the shoot,” Mr. Lawson stated in a helpful manner.

“OK, that will be all. Thank you for your time,” Mr. Curry said distractedly. His wheels

were turning, running through all of the things that could have happened between 4:30 and when Patrick had been reported missing.

“Alright, we need to get Grace Thomson in for an interview ASAP,” Curry said urgently.

“I will handle it. You need to go home and get some rest, old-timer,” Esposito told Sam jokingly.

“Fine, fine, but I’m not that old,” Mr. Curry answered as he walked out the door.

At around 11 p.m. that night, Sam was woken up by his phone ringing.

“I have new intel on the Romani case, but I can’t talk about it here,” Esposito whispered into the phone.

“OK, meet me at the coffee shop on East Main Street when it opens at 8,” Curry answered groggily.

“If I can’t make it in time, my notes are where they always are,” Esposito said with a sense of urgency.

“Do you need me to come right now?” Curry asked, starting to get worried.

“No, I’ll just meet you in the morning,” Esposito said.

After he hung up, Curry began to worry. He tossed and turned all night, got up early, and headed to the coffee shop. At about 8:15, Esposito rushed to the booth Sam was sitting in. He proceeded to tell Curry about what he found.

“After you left yesterday, I got into contact with Grace Thomson.” 

Esposito told Curry about what had happened.

“How long have you worked for Mr. Romani?” Esposito questioned Ms. Thomson.

“Probably about a year and a half,” Ms. Thomson answered.

“What exactly did you do for him, and why did you quit?”

“I took care of the cooking, cleaning. Those kinds of things. He hired me after his wife died. I quit because I don’t think Mr. Romani’s business is as honest as everyone says.”

“Exactly what do you think he has done?”

“I’m not exactly sure, but his clothes are always muddy, and they have splatters of blood everywhere. He spends most of his time at the company lab running tests, and his employees are always in and out.”

“Why didn’t you report any of this before now?”

“I’m scared of him. If he finds out I was here, bad things will happen.”

Curry was surprised by what Esposito had to say.

“Sam, that's not even the worst part. I have to break into the lab to find what he is experimenting with. I don’t have enough evidence to get a warrant.”

“Just let me do it; you won’t make it.”

“No, I need to do the right thing here, even if it doesn’t end well.”

After Esposito left, Curry spent the rest of the day worrying about him. He got a message from Esposito to get to his office as soon as possible. After about five minutes, Curry arrived. He threw open the door to the dim, musty, little cubical-like room. Esposito was dead on the floor with a shot in the neck. The ME said he was shot clean through the carotid artery, making it almost impossible to save him. He said it had to be the work of a professional. Esposito bled to death on his office floor trying to produce justice. This made Curry even more determined than ever to catch Romani. Curry called up his old army buddy Governor Eric Dawson.

“Hey Cur, it’s been a minute. What can I do for you?”

“A friend of mine just got shot and killed because of his investigation of Romani Enterprises.”

“Come on, man, do you really think it was Darrel? You’ve been telling the same old story for years.”

“A man is dead, Eric; don’t you think that's enough to get a warrant?”

“You’re right. I’ll be down to Highpoint in the next few hours, and we will take steps forward when I get there.”

At around 5 p.m. that day, Governor Dawson was at the late detective's office with his head investigators. It only took them about 10 minutes to be convinced Mr. Romani was up to something. Governor Dawson got the local SWAT team ready to arrest Romani.

“Wait, before you go, there is a secret exit on the back hill of the estate. Ms. Thomson said this is where Darrel is most likely to go if something goes south.”

“OK, good to know. I will keep you updated as we head there.”

It was dusk as the vans pulled into the long, curvy driveway. At the end of the road was an absolutely massive mansion with an even bigger research plant behind it. The search would be a tremendous job, but the part everyone was dreading the most was the arrest of Darrel Romani. The team sprung out of the vans. They tried the door, but it was bolted shut. They knocked, but there was no answer. Their only choice was to break down the door. Once they were inside, it was a mad dash to find Romani. They found him in the upstairs living room and surrounded him at once.

“We have officers on every edge of your property, including the secret exit. You won’t get out of here unless it is with us, so you might as well come peacefully,” Governor Dawson said with authority.

In a sudden, jarring motion, Romani sprinted towards the large windows. Before he could get there, he was tackled and pinned to the ground by one of the officers. Dawson strode over to him and read him his Miranda Rights. After searching the house and lab, the team found all of Romani’s secrets.

“Curry, we found the files. We know what he’s done. We found over 100 bodies, and the forensics team identified one as Patrick Newman. The rest of them are still being looked into. We believe they all match with missing persons reports from the area. They could possibly date back as far as 25 years ago.”

“Why did he kill all of these people? What does he get out of it?”

“That's where the lab tests come in. We found prototypes for new kinds of fabrics, and we found his personal notes. Curry, he used their skin to make the nonstaining fabric. Something about the makeup of skin makes it compatible with certain materials that can then be turned into his bestselling product. Trust me, he’s going away for a long time.”

“Thank you for your help, Eric, but what do you think caused all of this? What made him go insane?”

“Well, in his notes, it said he started with animal skin, which had an OK effect but wasn’t perfect. For some reason, his next instinct was to try human skin. He began digging bodies out of graves. Which is why there was always mud on his clothes. After a while, it wasn’t enough to use dead bodies; he had to get fresh ones of his own. At first, it was slow. Only a few every year, but as time went on, he got braver. Recently, it has been as many as one or two every month. We think this is because once his wife died, he didn’t have to hide so much. His daughter is only 8, so there is no telling how much she really knows. However, in his last few notes, he mentions introducing his work to the next generation. We aren’t sure if this means his daughter knew about it, or if he was just thinking about leaving the company to her.”

“That is absolutely insane. I am utterly speechless. What did you find out about Espo’s shooter?”

“He was killed by Frank Moretti, a gun for hire whom Romani often used to do his dirty work. It looks like the judge is going to give him life with no parole.”

“At least they caught him. Esposito would be glad he wasn’t killed for nothing.”

“If I could give you some advice: This town is going to be shaken when they hear the truth. They’re going to be angry, and it's going to be chaos for a long time. This town will never be the same, but be patient with them. Do what you can to make them feel safe and calm their fears. Also, keep an eye on the young Romani girl.”

In a matter of a few weeks, Romani had been sentenced to more than 200 years in prison with no chance of parole. The town mourned their friends and family, but they celebrated the removal of a monster. For the town of Highpoint, things were finally getting back to normal. A happy ending, if you will. Except for little Blake Romani. At 8 years old, her dad had been incarcerated, her mom had died, and she had been shunned by everyone in her hometown. They sent her away to boarding school, never to be seen again. Until today. It’s been 11 years, and I’m headed back to Highpoint to finish what my father started. They said he was insane, but they haven’t seen anything yet.