Taurus

by WL Knightly

  Taurus

  Zodiac Killers #6

  WL Knightly

  BrixBaxter Publishing

  Contents

  Find WL Knightly

  Description

  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

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Want More?

  About the Author

  Find WL Knightly

  WL’s Facebook Author Page

  Description

  Alan Lowe, the Zodiac’s Taurus, didn’t think life could get any worse than his wife leaving him over his gambling debts and owing thirty grand to a thug named Benny. But that was before the Zodiac Killer decided it was time to take a chance on him.

  * * *

  After kidnapping his wife, the killer demanded that Alan kill Seth, but when the task is done, will it be enough? Who will be the next to die? Will Alan have the guts to murder someone else, or will he sacrifice himself instead?

  * * *

  Detective Darek Blake’s fine line is getting thinner, and with the evidence getting harder to control, the risk is taking its toll. With him and Lizzy on the outs, will they let their issues compromise an already difficult case? Or will taking time to focus on the evidence instead of each other make it stronger?

  Chapter 1

  Alan

  Sweat dripped down Alan Lowe’s brow and his heartbeat pounded in his ears. Seth’s pleading cries still rung in his ears, along with the sound of the gunshot. He’d used a silencer, but Seth had made enough noise that someone in the hotel may have been suspicious. Or maybe any casual passerbys would just assume they had been having rough, kinky sex? Either way, he had to move fast.

  He had to get some distance between himself and—no, it would be easier not to think of his name—the man on the floor. The man who lay in a puddle of his own blood. Seth. His friend. Don’t look down.

  As he struggled with his guilt, he still couldn’t believe what he’d done. He’d only come to New York to do a little business and unload one of his buildings. He had made all the arrangements to have the few people who worked in that building moved to another branch across the city so he could make some quick cash to pay off his debts.

  Alan glanced down to the floor and swallowed hard, biting back the bile that had risen in his throat. He had to make sure he didn’t vomit. He’d already taken precautions not to leave any evidence of himself and knew that it was bad enough Seth’s sole purpose for being in New York was to meet up with him over the property.

  After snapping the photo of his kill, Alan put his ear to the door and listened for any movement in the hall. When he heard none, he tucked the gun in his pants and opened the door. He looked both ways, and then hurried to the elevator. He was thankful it was empty, and even though he’d made sure the security company, which he owned, had rebooted the system, giving him a good hour of downtime to commit the murder, he still didn’t want anyone to see him.

  He held on to the railing as the elevator moved down and held his breath that no one else would get on. He had one more thing to do. He found the previous thread of texts and added the photo, proving the deed was done.

  As he hit send, his hands trembled, and he tried not to look too hard at what he’d done. It was no use. Seth’s head was turned at a weird angle, his mouth gaped wide, and that look of panic was a permanent death mask for him to wear down to the morgue.

  Alan looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. It was over now. Time to focus on what he had to do next.

  Once he made it to the lobby, he kept his chin tucked low, popped his collar, and made a quick exit. As soon as the damp city air hit his lungs, with all the smells of smog and street vendors, he ducked to the nearest alley and puked.

  How was this his life?

  A month ago, things were fine. At least, they were his normal level of dysfunction, but then his daughter fell ill. He’d been spinning his wheels with how to make it all better since, and now, not only was his marriage, which he thought was indestructible, on the rocks, but he owed a thug named Benny thirty grand. To make matters worse, another criminal, some maniacal murderer, who apparently had a vendetta against him for something he’d done when he was just a kid, had taken his wife and forced him to kill Seth if he ever wanted to see her again.

  Alan had put the woman through enough hell, and if they survived this, he would be shocked.

  He stood upright and made sure that he didn’t have anything on his clothes, no blood, no vomit. Alan didn’t know what he would have done if he looked down and saw blood, and even though he seemed clean, he checked and rechecked a hundred times. He didn’t want to carry any part of Seth from the scene; the memory of his final pleas was enough to haunt him forever.

  He took a cab to the airport and was careful not to make too much eye contact with the driver who seemed to mind his own business, thank fuck.

  He was ready to get back to his city, to his home. He’d grown up most of his life there, from the time he was eight and his family moved from Virginia to Las Vegas, trading one V for another, as his old man put it.

  Those were happy times until his mother met a con man who not only tried to ruin his father’s company but took his mother away from him. After that, he was left to watch his father struggle, not only to make his business, which took a big hit when his mom’s new lover took nearly all of their money, but the old man struggled with alcohol and being left alone with a kid to raise.

  Alan arrived at the airport and realized that he’d brought the gun with him. Stupid, stupid. He wanted to kick his own ass. Why not just shout to the world what a madman he was? He knew better than to walk into the building and looked around wondering where he could stash a gun. There were some big planters near a group of benches, and one was completely empty. This time of night, there weren’t many people stirring, and that would work to his advantage. He had worn gloves, which he had taken off after he’d lost his dinner and shoved into his jacket.

  He walked over and took a seat on the bench, close to the big, stone planter and looked over to see it did indeed have soil like he hoped. The soil was littered with cigarette butts and a few other things, but he looked around, hoping no one was watching, and didn’t even see a camera anywhere in sight.

  He casually rested against the planter, letting his hand work the dirt, digging it nice and deep, and when he was sure no one was looking, he dropped the gun into the hole and covered it up. He even made sure to put some of the trash and a couple of cigarette butts there, just to make it look less conspicuous. He wiped his hand on his jeans and got up to go inside.

  He went to the ticket counter. He tried to appear calm, taking a deep breath as the woman behind the counter typed away on her computer.

  “May I help you?” She kept a blank face, which was fine by him. He had a feeling if she looked at him too closely or gave any expression, it would only make him more nervous. He didn’t need any more drama. All he needed was to go home.

  “Yes, I need a one way to Las Vegas, and I’m not picky.” He listened to the rattle of her keys as he looked away.

  “You’re in luck. The next flight is about to board in twenty minutes.”

  Before she could say another word, he handed her his cred
it card, and she took it, and in another minute, he was walking away. He found the restroom and washed his hands and face. Then he raked his hands through his dirty blond hair and scratched his stubble. His green eyes were still wild, but he took a deep breath and tried to keep his hands from shaking. He needed a drink and planned to have a couple on the plane. Hopefully, that would calm his nerves.

  Even though he kept seeing Seth on the floor of his hotel room, the blood pouring from him like he’d hit an artery, he couldn’t get his mind off of his wife. He had messaged the killer, and now he was supposed to hear word of Jamie’s whereabouts. That was the deal.

  He had gotten the photo of his wife on his way to New York, and while he wanted to turn around and go straight back to Las Vegas, he knew he better follow the instructions to a tee. Besides, what good would it have done to head back? He would still be in debt, and he would still need the deal and the thirty grand to come through. He would not only be going back home not knowing where his wife was being held, but he would have a few cracked ribs and possibly a broken arm waiting for him, if not a bullet. And that was the easy way.

  If only he hadn’t let his gambling addiction get the best of him. He could have just walked away from that table, but instead, he’d let Benny extend a line of credit. It wasn’t until he was in too deep, losing the hand that would ruin his marriage, that he realized what a huge mistake he’d made. That was after he’d woken up in his man cave at home with a massive hangover. Benny had given him time to find the money, but time was running out, so having a serial killing psychopath on his heels was the last thing he needed.

  As he heard the call to board his flight, he wished he hadn’t ever met Seth or Bay or any of the other Zodiacs. It was a long road that had brought him to this point in his life, to the time where he had to atone for his mistakes and make up for the awful thing he’d done.

  He let the events play through his mind as he made his way to the gate and boarded the flight.

  The girl, Emily Johnson—a name that burned in his memory since—was no more than a child herself. It was funny how he didn’t realize it so much back then, but of course, he’d only been a child too. Fifteen years old is far too young to do something so sinister that it would haunt him the rest of his life.

  But he and Seth and Bay and the others had taken turns carving up the poor girl and then tossed her aside like garbage, leaving her to bleed out and die. All for a fantasy; a foolish idea that Bay, their fearless psychotic leader, had designed in his twisted mind.

  He had never killed anything before then, and his dad had sent him home to Virginia to the nearby camp to make a man out of him and to get rid of him. His father had hoped he would learn manly skills, or his idea of them, like cleaning fish and shooting deer. He had come home with a much more brutal accomplishment and a badge of shame to carry with him forever.

  The Taurus symbol had been branded on the front of his left shoulder when he joined the Zodiacs, and if it hadn’t been for him wanting to be a part of something, to have that manly camaraderie, he would have never done it.

  Alan remembered leaving the camp and being picked up by his father. He knew he would never be able to hide the mark, so he showed it off and told his father he had been initiated into a fraternity of sorts. His father had been proud of him for taking the hazing like a man, so proud that he’d let him drink a beer with him.

  He’d been drinking ever since.

  He took out his phone and silenced it. Then he looked at his messages, hoping one would have come through from the killer by then. He put the phone in his pocket and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. If he didn’t hear something soon, he was going to lose his mind.

  After the flight attendant gave her announcements and the takeoff was complete, he called her over. “Could I get a drink, please. Bourbon?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, giving him a wink. As she walked away, he turned and noticed the attractive young woman next to him. She smiled a little too hard at him, giving him looks like she could sop him up with a biscuit, but for all his might, he couldn’t give one back. She was sexy, but he had nothing to be happy about. The only woman he’d been with since his wedding day was tied up in a chair with a gag in her mouth.

  “Here you are, sir,” said the attendant, who wasn’t so bad herself. “Can I get you anything else?”

  Alan hated to ask, but he had one more request. “Do you have something for a headache?” His head was screaming, and if he didn’t do something about it, he was just going to be miserable for the next three to four hours.

  “Sure.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a blister pack. “Are you okay?”

  What the hell? I may as well take up lying too. “Yeah, just fine.” If he didn’t hear something soon, he might never be okay again.

  Chapter 2

  Darek

  Detective Darek Blake couldn’t help but think that seven-thirty in the morning was way too early to be on your way to the doctor’s office, but at least he was finally getting his appointment over with. He had put off his second appointment of the year as long as he could, but his six-month supply of medication was running out, and he had no choice.

  The only thing worse than having to go to an appointment was having to go to work after, especially considering the mess he’d made of his and Lizzy’s relationship, but with any luck, they would be able to keep things professional from here on out.

  Not that he really wanted things to be professional, but when a woman lies to his face, Darek didn’t think he could be with them. He had to overlook that she was the sexiest woman he’d been with to date, or that she was perfect for him. He had to think of how important honesty was to him in a relationship.

  He’d just been used and dumped by one woman, and now he realized hooking up with Lizzy at all had been much too soon after his divorce. He should have taken things slower, but in hindsight, we always saw the way things should have been. It didn’t help much with moving forward.

  The receptionist called Darek back five minutes later, and he couldn’t help but feel angry when he saw Dr. Stephanie Stafford waiting. There was a possibility that Stevie, as she liked to be called, had been telling his business to Bay, or perhaps Bay had just been pulling his leg, which was entirely possible, but he had no way to find out unless he asked, and he wasn’t sure that was smart. He didn’t need to rock the boat, but the very idea of it all had him in a pissy mood.

  She had a big smile for him as he entered her office. “Good morning, Darek. What a nice way to start the day, with one of my favorite clients.”

  Darek put up a hand as he took a seat on her sofa. “You don’t have to be so formal as to call me a client, Doc. Patient is just fine.”

  Her smile faded a bit. “You know I don’t like to use the term. Are you feeling okay today? Having a bit of anger issues?”

  He straightened his collar and tried to get comfortable on the squeaky leather. “No, I guess I just don’t like starting off my day remembering my problems.”

  She nodded as if she agreed or at least could sympathize. “How is life treating you?”

  “Fine. As good as anyone else’s, I suppose.” He saw enough with his job to know that everyone had problems. Some of them uglier than others, but problems all the same.

  She took out her tablet and poised her pen to the paper. “Have you experienced any problems lately with your condition?”

  Darek shrugged and shook his head, glancing around at her room which had been the same since he’d started coming here. Probably an attempt to make it feel more inviting and familiar; safe. “I haven’t had any serious episodes, no. Just a couple of times that I went into a daze, nothing bad. Although, I did black out the other day. It was like my brain just shut right down, turned off to reboot or something.”

  “Have you had any other blackouts? Brief or otherwise?”

  “None that took me down. That one landed me in a poison ivy patch. I’m just getting over it.”

  She scribbled
on her pad, her brow creasing as she focused. “It was fairly recent?”

  “Yeah, a couple of weeks ago. Nearly three.” He couldn’t remember the exact day, but he knew it had led to him getting rid of the brand that used to mar his shoulder.

  “Any others? Think about small ones, ones you might not want to count?”

  “A few, I guess. But I’m not sure if I’m just foggy from having too much on my mind.”

  “It happens. You feel like you’ve been in outer space?”

  “Only because when I come to, people are usually saying: Earth to Darek.”

  That prompted a chuckle from her, but she continued to jot down the notes. He wondered if she was making her grocery list or planning a party to use the money she’d be making off of the checkup. Or perhaps they were notes, things to tell Bay Collins on the next hookup. He wondered if she was sleeping with him too, like half of the city, or perhaps she frequented his sex club.

  He knew he couldn’t ask without crossing a line and looking like an even bigger lunatic.

  “So, how’s your home life?”

  “I’m divorced. It’s still fresh, but I’m good.”

  “Mhm,” she said, jotting more notes. “Would you say that you’re over it?”

  “Yes, I would. I think it ended a while ago. I hated who she was, who I was becoming being married to her.” That was the first time he’d admitted that aloud.