by Herron, Rita
Wind Chill
Copyright © 2019 by Rita Herron
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, transmitted, or distributed in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without specific written permission from the publisher. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher are illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is coincidental.
Beachside Reads, Norcross GA 30092
Print Edition ISBN: 9781706170594
Digital Edition AISN: B07YLY99DP
First Edition 2019, Printed in the USA
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Dedication
To Deb, Peggy, Vicki, Regan and Cindy —I’m honored to be among you amazing authors with this special project!
Contents
TINLEY 7 NEWS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
TINLEY 7 NEWS
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
TINLEY 7 NEWS
SNEAK PEEK
The STORMWATCH Series
About the Author
Also by Rita Herron
Don’t Miss
TINLEY 7 NEWS
Bailey Huggins hated the cold, but she had a job to do, and today that meant braving the elements to do it. People had to be informed and warned about the blizzard bearing down on the state and its inherent dangers or else they might get caught out in it.
The cameraman motioned for her to stand in front of the “Welcome to Tinley” sign so he could capture the wind battering it and the power lines as they swayed beneath the force.
She did as he instructed, then yanked her snowcap tighter over her ears, already chilled to the bone. But she was a professional trying to work her way up at the station, so as she waited to begin the segment, she pasted a smile on her face.
Rick gave her the cue, and she raised her voice so it could be heard over the roaring wind, “This is Meteorologist Bailey Huggins, reporting to you via Channel 7 news, Tinley, Nebraska. As of midnight last night, a severe weather advisory has been issued for the entire state. Holly, the worst blizzard to strike in eighty years, has already wreaked havoc on Montana and Colorado, leaving fatalities and devastation in its wake.”
Thick snowflakes pummeled her, but she brushed them from her eyes with a gloved hand. “Temperatures have already dropped into the single digits and are expected to land below zero by morning, with the wind chill reaching thirty below in the next twenty-four hours.” She shivered, struggling to keep her teeth from chattering.
“Road advisories have been issued, flights have been cancelled across the Midwest, and power outages are already being reported.”
She paused for dramatic effect. “This is no joke or laughing matter. Everyone is urged to stay inside and off the roads for their own safety. Make sure you have emergency supplies available, along with food and water. Once the storm hits, roads may be impassable, businesses closed, and you won’t be going anywhere.”
She paused again, this time adding a small smile. “Happy Holidays, folks. Unfortunately though, our White Christmas is just about to get nasty.”
Chapter One
9 a.m., Gulf Shores, Alabama, December 18
Special Agent Gia Franklin was on TV again. Talking about him.
A smile curved his lips as he studied her smoky amber eyes, now filled with distrust and determination as she addressed the press conference.
The Fed was proving to be a worthy adversary. Strong-willed and smart. Calm, yet menacing in the way she stared down the reporters who tossed questions at her like live grenades.
He felt like he knew her. Like she was becoming a friend. Maybe he’d forget the formalities and just call her Gia.
Just as he’d wanted to do all those years ago when she’d ignored him.
She wasn’t ignoring him now.
Gia thumped her fingers on top of the podium. “I’m sorry to report that there are now nine victims of the Christmas Killer.” A photograph of the latest female to die at his hands flashed on the screen.
Only this was a plain picture of her, not the way they’d found her. The beautiful red scarf he’d wrapped around her neck and the ornament he’d lovingly tied to her wrist were missing.
“This is Terry Ann Igley, age twenty-seven. She owned a pet grooming and boarding service that catered to tourists in Gulf Shores, Alabama,” Gia continued. “If you have any information regarding her murder, please call your local police or the FBI.”
His blood stirred at the memory of Terry Ann’s pretty dark eyes pleading with him not to kill her. She had a tender spot for all live creatures, especially dogs and cats, and was organizing a pet parade where owners dressed their furry friends in holiday costumes.
She’d trusted him.
Until she hadn’t.
“When are you going to catch this guy?” a blond reporter in the front row asked.
Gia glanced at the male agent next to her, but he simply gestured for her to answer the question. It was obvious she was in charge.
“We are doing everything within our power to identify the perp and stop his killing spree. Since he has struck now in three different states, the FBI has formed a joint task force with law enforcement agencies across the states.”
“He started in your home state of Florida, didn’t he?” a dark-haired male reporter prodded.
The agent hesitated. Because she wasn’t from Florida. Gia Franklin grew up in the small town of Tinley, Nebraska. She’d moved to Florida after she’d joined the Bureau.
She had one sibling, a sister named Carly, who still lived in Tinley, aka Tinsel Town, because each year the town hosted a huge holiday festival with activities and decorations that drew tourists from all over the region.
Carly was blonde and beautiful with the hair and face of an angel. So opposite of her ice-queen sister.
“Florida is my home now,” Gia said instead. “And yes, the first three victims were from the south Florida area, then the assailant struck next in Georgia.”
The raven-haired reporter waved her hand. “Three murders in Florida, three in Georgia and now three here in Alabama. He’s left an ornament from the Twelve Days of Christmas song with each victim. That means he’s not finished.”
The agent lifted her chin, anger radiating from her cool eyes. “Judging from his MO to date, I’d say that’s a fair assessment. All the more reason we need anyone with information regarding the victims to come forward. No matter how small the detail, it might be helpful.”
Laughter bubbled in his throat at the double m
eaning of the name they’d given him. The Christmas Killer. Fitting that he was destroying the holiday spirit for these do-gooders with his murders. All methodically planned.
His Christmases had been ruined a long time ago.
He glanced at the box of special ornaments handcrafted after the Twelve Days of Christmas song. He’d left the partridge in a pear tree ornament with his first victim. The second, two turtledoves. The third, three French hens. The fourth, four calling birds…
He still had three more ornaments to dole out.
Another reporter cleared her throat. “Agent Franklin, women need to be warned. Do you have a profile of the killer?”
Gia’s chest rose and fell on a deep breath, then she curled her fingers around the edge of the podium with a white-knuckled grip.
“We believe he’s a white male, mid-thirties. He’s methodical, organized and wants attention, as if he’s staging a show by posing his victims.” She swallowed. “He’s charming, average to good looks, blends in with a crowd so he often goes unnoticed. In fact, that may be a sore spot with him. He feels he’s invisible.”
She hesitated, then cleared her throat. “While he may exhibit outward signs of violence, he possesses a dark sinister side and may be suffering from bipolar disorder coupled with manic depression. Most likely, he experienced a traumatic event around this time of year causing the holidays to trigger his rage.”
The reporter’s hand shot up. “Do you have any idea where he’ll strike again?”
She paused as if searching for answers, then stared directly into the camera. “Not at this time. But I promise you I won’t stop until I catch him and put him behind bars.”
His blood heated with admiration and…anger. Gia Franklin had just challenged him.
A chuckle rumbled from deep in his gut. She wanted to make this personal.
Hell, he’d considered making it personal before. Now he would. He’d make it very personal.
He snagged his phone and accessed the airlines’ flight schedules. He’d planned to stay in the sunny South for the last three kills.
Now things would change, and he would up the ante. He’d skip a few states and take Gia back home. Then he’d throw her off her game.
“Nebraska, here I come,” he muttered as he booked the next flight out.
Adrenaline surged through him, and he picked up another red scarf and brushed it across his cheek.
By tonight, he’d be in Tinley with Gia’s sister.
Chapter Two
9:20 a.m. December 18, Gulf Shores, Alabama
Special Agent Gia Franklin loved her job. But she hated being massacred by the media.
And with nine young women dead, they were out for blood.
How could she blame them though? The Christmas Killer had struck nine times in three weeks. His MO was unique. He was cunning, fast, and so far, he’d left zero evidence behind.
The fear he’d stirred up was a force in itself. Trouble was, no one understood where he’d attack next. Worse, his victimology was all over the place. He had no type. No specific hair color or profession or body type.
All women in their twenties seemed to be fair game.
All young and vibrant with futures to look forward to.
Until he’d strangled the life out of them.
“Well, that went well,” Special Agent Brantley Harmon gritted out as they exited the conference room.
Gia gave him a dry look. “People are scared and angry. Can’t fault them for that.”
“We’ll catch him, Gia,” Brantley said.
Her throat thickened with emotions, making it difficult to speak. She had to get out of here before she fell apart. Breaking down on the national news certainly wouldn’t instill confidence in the public.
She muttered that they’d talk later, then rushed through the door, well aware reporters would hound her. Another round of the vultures stood out front of the courthouse, hungry for details. She darted to the right to avoid them. Cameras flashed as she jogged down the steps and hurried to her rental car.
Her phone buzzed with a message as she slid into the driver’s seat. She checked the number, praying it was a tip about the Christmas Killer.
No, not work. Carly instead. God, she loved her sister, but she knew what this phone call was about. They had a similar conversation every Christmas.
But this year she had a good excuse for not returning to Nowhere, Nebraska.
The buzzing ended, then the phone began ringing again. Carly was nothing but persistent. Gia set her computer bag on the floor then connected the call.
“Hey, sis.”
“Gia, I’m so glad you answered. I’ve been thinking about you so much. I was hoping we could finalize Christmas plans.”
A wave of nostalgia washed over Gia. Her sister loved Christmas as much as their mother had. When she died, Carly had assumed ownership of Tinsel Town’s infamous holiday shop Happy Holidays! which remained opened year-round. Her mother had even chosen the special font for the sign because of its cheery look.
Gia had left town and all the hub of Christmas behind shortly after the funeral. There were too many painful memories tied to both.
“Everyone here is busy gearing up for the annual festival, and I’m hoping you’ll be here to celebrate this year. I put Mother’s poinsettia quilt on the bed for you, but I wanted to wait till you got here to trim the tree –”
“Hold on, sweetie.” Gia struggled to keep her tone even instead of reminding her little sister that she hated Christmas now. It was one reason she’d moved to the Sunshine State.
No more freezing winters, small town antics or cheesy Christmas parades.
“Ahh, sis, you don’t really hate it. Remember taking family pictures in that big sleigh at the tree farm,” Carly said. “We’d laugh and chase each other through the woods pointing out the best trees.”
“Only you chose the saddest ones because you felt sorry for them,” Gia murmured with a pang of longing for her sister. She squeezed her eyes shut. “There was also that mean little boy who liked to jump out from behind the trees and scare us with an ax.”
Carly laughed. “He was weird, but we still had fun. Please tell me you’re coming.” Emotions laced her sister’s voice. “I understand it’s difficult, but it’s been three years. And it’s even harder for me without you here. I wanted to wait to choose the tree with you at the tree farm like we used to do but figured it might be easier if I already had it. I picked a lovely balsam fir instead of a sad one.”
Gia smiled, then hardened her heart. “I can’t make it, sis.” She could not go back to the place where her mother had been so vibrant and welcomed locals and strangers with her homemade hot chocolate and frosted sugar cookies. “I’m sure you’ve seen the news about the serial killer we’re hunting. He started in Florida, then went to Georgia and just strangled three women in Alabama.”
“Oh, right, the one who leaves the Twelve Days ornaments tied to his victim’s wrist with red ribbon.”
“That’s him,” Gia said, hating that the media practically glamorized his signature. “I just left a press conference. People are panicked and worried. This maniac isn’t finished. He’s planning more murders.”
A long weary sigh. “Of course, your job is important,” Carly replied. “But so is family and being together for the holidays, Gia. Sometimes you need to take a break from work and smell the sugar cookies.” She paused again, probably hoping for a laugh, but Gia didn’t feel like laughing.
“Besides,” her sister said, “you’ll get a chance to see Murphy. You know he’s the sheriff now.”
Murphy, aka Murph, Malone was handsome, sexy and darkly brooding. He’d been voted most athletic in school, and he played guitar like a rock star. Every girl in Tinley lusted after him. They’d dated for a short time and she’d lost her heart to him. But he’d broken it off.
She still didn’t understand the reason.
She certainly didn’t have time for romance now. Besides, Murph would never leav
e Tinley, and she could never live there again.
One of the reporters from the press conference darted down the courthouse steps after the local police chief, and Gia decided it was time to leave so she started the engine of her rental car.
“Maybe after the holidays we can get together. By then, I’ll have caught this guy, and you can fly to West Palm. January is perfect weather in Delray Beach. We can sit on the beach, drink martinis and read magazines.”
A tense second passed. “I guess I could come, after the Christmas rush.”
“See, that’ll work. You can escape the brutal winter and work on a tan.” Gia sighed. “I heard the weather forecast. A blizzard is heading your way.”
“I know,” Carly said. “Everyone here is worried about how it will affect the festival.”
Not surprising. There was nothing else there to do. For heaven’s sake, the planning committee started working on the next year’s schedule and line up of activities in January.
Gia veered onto the main road from town and drove toward the hotel where she’d spent the last four nights. “Just be careful, sis. They’re predicting a dangerous wind chill factor. Bundle up and stay in. And for heaven’s sake, close the shop if you need to. People will survive with a few less decorations. I certainly have.”
“Just because you’re surviving doesn’t mean you’re happy,” Carly retorted.