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Lachesis Publishing
www.lachesispublishing.com
Copyright ©2008 by Laura Marie Henion
First published in 2006, 2006
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NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
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CONTENTS
Published Internationally by Lachesis Publishing
Other Books by
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
About the Author
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Cop's Daughter:
Victoria
by
Laura Marie Henion
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www.lachesispublishing.com
Published Internationally by Lachesis Publishing
Kingston, Nova Scotia, B0P 1R0
Copyright © 2008 Laura Marie Henion
Exclusive cover © 2008 Laura Givens
Inside artwork © 2008 Carole Spencer
All rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written consent of the publisher, Lachesis Publishing, is an infringement of the copyright law.
A catalogue record for the print format of this title is available from the
National Library of Canada
ISBN 1-897562-02-4
A catalogue record for the Ebook is available from the
National Library of Canada
multiple Ebook formats are available from
www.lachesispublishing.com
ISBN 1-897562-03-1
Credit: Giovanna Lagana, editor
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Other Books by
Laura Marie Henion
Cops’ Daughter: Lauren
Cops’ Daughter: Grace
Cops’ Daughter: Diana
Lillian's Love
First One In, Last One Out
[Back to Table of Contents]
Dedication
I dedicate this book solely to my Father, Vernon J. Geberth. He is a man to be proud of and to honor for all his achievements in life, but most importantly for his dedication to his family. I love you, Daddy, and you are an inspiration.
You have always encouraged me to do my best, influenced me in making the right decisions, and have always stood beside me.
Our relationship is strong and your continued support is treasured forever.
All my love,
Laura Marie
[Back to Table of Contents]
Cop's Daughter:
Victoria
[Back to Table of Contents]
Prologue
Victoria felt the softness underneath her body, then the sound of flowing water echoing in the distance.
Struggling to open her heavy eyelids, the weak and exhausted sensation overwhelmed her. Each muscle-sheltered bone sent waves of aches and pains with the slightest movement. Cautiously, blinking her eyes open, she made certain she was alone. As tired as she felt, she couldn't forget her captor.
The man was strong, enormous. His anger and determination was enough to destroy a whole army. The realization told her she didn't stand a chance.
The last couple of blows he inflicted upon her had knocked the wind out of her. And the ones that followed sent her into a deep sleep, like the one she had just awoken from. How long have I been here? What does he plan on doing with me? Didn't anyone hear my screams?
Glancing around the room, noticing it was a dump, she wondered if anyone else were around. No one would ask questions, or take notice of a man practically dragging a young woman along with him.
This location remained abandoned and known to harbor crack heads and other strays the town attempted to hide. That was until some keen, ambitious businessman decided to buy out the owner and improve the property to the town board's standards. Six months later and halfway through construction, the company fell into financial ruins. Claiming bankruptcy, the businessman left the site mid construction. There was no hope that even a stray could provide Victoria assistance.
Her captor had held the gun against her ribcage, threatening to kill her on the spot then go after her mother if she continued to fight him.
A chill ran through her body, up her spine, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. Feeling the moisture reach her eyes, Victoria took him seriously. She knew he could easily get to her mother just as he was able to get to her.
No one suspected him of anything.
The pain in her head and stomach increased with the knowledge she now possessed. How could he be the one?
The police would be searching for a ghost, a suspect with no name, no face, and no apparent motive.
The odds were against her. No one was coming.
Sighing heavily, she tried to ignore the nervous sensation that consumed her.
If he were going to kill me, wouldn't he have done it by now? He's toying with you, Tory. It's all a game.
Raising her knees to her chest, sensing her desire to quit, give in to her captor's demands, she held on to the tiny bit of hope and determination to escape.
The battle between a desire to live, and the facts of the case, the crime scene photos, and her captor's abilities, left her breathless.
She would not accept defeat. She would attempt escape again. She had to give it a shot.
The need to close her eyes, to rest her weary mind and body consumed her. Like waves crashing against a border of mountainous rocks came the visions of what had occurred earlier.
Each sensation of wanting to survive, having to escape her captor, then accepting defeat, weighed a toll on her mind and soul. Yet in this weak position, she promised herself next time she wouldn't underestimate his abilities.
* * * *
She recalled the brightness of the sun and yearned to see it again and feel freedom. She could remember hearing the highway in the distance and instantly she planned on running in that direction if she had the chance. The scenes flashed through her mind. Her body shook in fear as she fought against herself, her emotional weakness, in the hopes she could get out of this situation.
She had been through the toughest of times, had battled against the evil of the criminal mind in her professional career.
This was different. This was personal.
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Eyes feeling heavy, she closed them tightly as her mind recollected the series of events.
She had watched her captor reach into his pocket to retrieve the car keys. In her mind, she saw each scene vividly as if it were all happening again.
The parking lot was empty. The motel looked abandoned. Being the end of June, schools were getting out, families planned vacations, and no decent, law-abiding citizen would be spending their time in a dive like this.
Looking around, the fear and anxiety of dying
in such a place set in. There wasn't a soul in sight.
She watched him, and when his ring caught on the pocket of his jeans, she pulled away. A quick duck and turn, she was free of his grasp, sprinting in the direction of the highway.
She vaguely felt the hardness of the pavement under the soles of her shoes as she struggled to recall any other details, as if she would remember seeing another escape route that would benefit her in the future.
The highway was a short distance after the parking lot. If she headed that way, she'd attempt to stop a car, get someone to notice her, and yell for help.
She lost her shoe as she ran across the high, overgrown grass separating the parking lot and the fence that lined the highway.
Damning herself for wearing the slip-on black wedges, she pumped her arms harder, faster, tossing the other shoe off her foot.
Cursing numerous times, after cutting her feet on broken liquor bottles and beer cans, she could hear him chasing her, laughing as he jogged, like it was some sort of game.
His voice and deep laughter echoed in her mind.
The buzzing sound of the cars zooming by ahead rang in her ears. Clearing the grass, she could taste freedom. Help was right ahead of her.
An instant later, her aching, bleeding feet, made contact with the pavement, so did her body. Hitting the ground with a thump, she felt the heavy weight of her captor as his body lay on top of her, pinning her to the ground.
Instantly, the cloth was around her mouth.
Groaning, crying from the excruciating pain that radiated through her whole body and feeling the cold, solid gun wedged against her cheekbone, she knew she had failed.
He pushed the metal harder and deeper into her flesh, and she practically felt the bruise penetrate from under her skin.
He left her no choice but to lay her arms by her side in defeat. Heart pounding, mind racing, she wondered if he would kill her right here.
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The tears filled her eyes as she clenched them tighter. The earlier sound of running water stopped and her back remained toward the sound of a door creaking open.
She didn't have to turn to know he was there. Nor did she have the strength to do so.
An overwhelming sense of evil permeated the space behind her, enveloped the small motel room to the point of which she felt suffocated.
The bed creaked as the weight of his knee indented into the mattress. Attempting not to shake, to pretend she was asleep, she willed her body to cooperate, then came his touch.
He trailed a finger from her ankle to the back of her knee. She silently begged every muscle, every bone, to remain dormant and to show no sign of a reaction.
Her body had a mind of its own when she sensed the shaking escalate from deep within.
The weight of his body caused the mattress to sag beneath her. She dared not move despite feeling him so close beside her as the palm of his hand lay flush against her hipbone. He leaned over her. She could feel each heavy breath as tiny droplets of water tickled against the skin on her neck.
Still, she willed herself to remain motionless while her captor emerged from the shower and now lay beside her on the bed.
She sensed his eyes upon her, his evil, perverse attempt to prove her unconsciousness an act.
She fought to continue the masquerade. It was her only hope to stop him from having her.
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Chapter 1
One month earlier
Frustrated and at her wits’ end, Victoria finally found a spot to park, and it was three blocks away from her Aunt Jane's house. She'd never hear the end of it if she arrived late.
Leave it to her to screw up the family tradition.
The sound of her cell phone ringing nearly caused her to hit the car she was parking in front of. Damn she hated to parallel park. It was so time consuming. Time she didn't have a lot of right now.
"Hello.” Grabbing the phone and flipping it open, she took off her seatbelt and got out of the car.
"Victoria, I'm so glad I caught you. How is the article coming along?” her boss John asked.
Grabbing the cake holder then closing the door with her foot, she let out a sigh as her bangs danced in front of her eyes.
"Everything is coming along nicely."
"You sound out of breath. Where are you?"
"I'm trying to get to my aunt's house before the parade begins."
She looked both ways as she held the cake holder in her hands and the phone with her right shoulder as she squeezed between the two parked cars. It had been a tight fit, but it was the last parking spot left.
"A parade? What are you doing at a parade when you have a deadline?"
"Oh, come on. You know I'm never late for any of my deadlines."
Victoria could hear the silence as if her boss had to actually stop and think about that.
"You're right. I guess I just needed to talk to you."
"About what? I'm trying not to drop the cake I made while I'm holding the phone with my shoulder."
"You made a cake?"
She released a frustrated breath, and her boss seemed to get the hint.
"All right, I'll get right to it. You've been acting kind of funny. Not yourself Victoria."
Victoria nearly dropped the cake. She had been taking extra precautions as not to seem different or preoccupied. Had she failed immensely?
"Is everything all right, Victoria?"
"Why of course. You know how I can get when I'm so into a story I'm doing."
She couldn't help but nibble her bottom lip.
"This one was pretty intense. Furthermore, you got the man to confess to murder. That's not exactly an every day occurrence."
"Of course it isn't and I appreciate your concern, but really, I'm fine."
"If you're sure?"
"I'm sure."
"What about the package that came to you yesterday? After it arrived, you looked rather sad. I don't mean to pry, Victoria, but I care."
Victoria felt herself panic then she paused next to a parked car. The package her friend in the police department sent to her contained her father's case file. Quickly, she racked her brain for an answer, a response that would surely get John to quit asking so many questions. She was determined to succeed in this investigation. She had to.
"Oh, that was some information I thought would be of assistance in the article I'm working on, but instead, it was just upsetting."
"How so?"
Damn it, why didn't he get the hint?
"I guess ... well, John, I hate to admit it, but sometimes the acts of the criminal element get to me."
He was silent a moment. Victoria didn't care if he thought she was weak or suddenly affected by the cases she was forced to write about. What she cared about was finding her father's killer.
"That's understandable, Victoria. I know how you like to keep things inside, but if you need to talk, or just someone to listen, I'm here for you."
"I appreciate that, John, but really, it was just a moment of stress and a reminder of why I have to do my best in this job. I want the public and law enforcement community to be knowledgeable of what's out there, what to watch out for, and ultimately do better in their professional lives as well as personal lives."
"Well, it shows."
"I need to get a move on it."
"You really made your own cake?"
"Yes, I did and I need to go."
"Why not just hit the bakery?"
"Bye."
Victoria hung up the phone, smirking at first then feeling the uncertainty in her gut.
Knowing she was not one to sneak around or snoop in places she didn't belong, she couldn't help but feel guilty, anxious, and frustrated. All this extra work laid a toll on her, and she was tired.
All week at work, she looked forward to everyone meeting at Aunt Jane and Uncle Patrick's house. Her aunt's house was located on the same block as the town hall. Every year, the family would gather to watch the parade and enjo
y a feast of barbecue and traditional party foods. The Malley and Mardullo families had celebrated the town Memorial Day parade for generations. This year would be no different despite the gray cloud that seemed to linger over the family.
Already ten, she could hear the parade starting—the bagpipes, the drums, and festivities clamored in the distance. She inhaled deeply, pleased at the smell of popcorn and the sounds that stirred emotions and memories from her childhood.
Many residents in the town had their houses decorated with American flags, POW flags, and various other patriotic embellishments. Her uncle's neighbor had a large statue of Uncle Sam pointing, and was well known for it, too.
Most of the men in her family were in the parade, for some reason or another, and the women in the family prepared the meals for the celebration once the men got back.
Aunt Jane's husband, Patrick, was Victoria's favorite uncle and one of the local police sergeants. His son, Connor, Victoria's cousin, was a detective in the same police department. Other members of the family were firemen, police officers, or service men.
Born into a family of First Responders, she understood all too well the sacrifices and dedication each family member committed to their job.
Once again, Victoria was late.
"Hey, Tory! You had better hurry up. The parade is about to start!” Mr. Clemmens yelled as she passed by his driveway. He had all his grandchildren sitting on the blacktop preparing to watch the parade together.
"I know ... I know. Thanks and enjoy the parade!” she yelled as she passed by quickly heading toward her destination.
Forced to park a few blocks over because the traffic cops had all the streets closed for the parade, she knew she would receive a reprimanding.
Victoria ducked under the yellow tape and ran through the neighborhood, carrying her special, homemade, strawberry shortcake, her uncle's favorite, in an enclosed Tupperware cake holder. She nearly dropped it multiple times, but finally made it to her aunt's house before the first marchers.
A triumph only she appeared to be celebrating.
The street filled with onlookers. Everyone by her aunt's house greeted her with yells and faces that showed expressions of pure relief she'd made it on time. Victoria had a feeling Aunt Jane had already started complaining about Victoria being late or perhaps, not showing up at all.
Victoria Page 1