Fallen Angel: An absolutely addictive crime thriller with a nail-biting twist (Detectives Kane and Alton Book 13)

by D. K. Hood

  Jenna couldn’t believe her luck. “It’s just for the record. Thank you so much for your time. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Anytime.” Burrows disconnected.

  Jenna stood, her mind swimming with the implications of the conversation. “Well, Paul Tate, whoever you are now, you’re a walking time bomb and you just became my prime suspect.” She hurried out the door and headed for the elevator.

  Forty-Two

  Kane listened with interest to the recording. “That’s the making of a psychopath if what he says is true, but none of this proves Paul Tate is our guy. We’re going on the recollections of a nine-year-old.”

  “Kids do remember things. I sure do, but then I do have a different type of memory than most.” Rio chewed on his pen. “Do you remember significant things?”

  Too many things. Kane nodded. “Yeah, my memory is real good. I can remember learning how to walk and sitting in my highchair trying to push food into my mouth.”

  “Good for you.” Jenna leaned on her hand. “I remember falling off a swing, but that’s not helping the investigation. Is Paul Tate one of our suspects?”

  Kane shrugged. “It’s impossible to know, if he’s been living under an alias for years.”

  When a knock came on the door, Kane stood and headed to answer it. “That will be Parker Rain. She’s a literary agent, so if she’s the killer, then it shoots all our theories to hell. She’s not Tate, is not related to him, that’s her real name, and she doesn’t fit any of our revenge or jealousy motives.” He turned to look at Jenna walking backward. “Em didn’t get a vibe from her, so we might be able to remove her from our list.”

  “Emily does a fine job, but she doesn’t have your experience, Dave.” Jenna looked up from her notes. “Dig deep and see what shows.”

  “Do you still want me to stay over here during the interviews?” Emily took her coffee back to her seat.

  “Yeah.” Kane smiled at her. “We have Finnian next.”

  After showing Parker Rain to a chair, Kane sat down beside Rio opposite her. He’d found Rio to be an astute interviewer and he had the ability to keep everyone’s answers in his head for comparison, which came in useful. “Thanks for coming by. There’re just a few things we need to ask you. From the previous interview you mentioned an animosity toward Dakota Storm. Could you please expand on the reasons?”

  “Do you mean, was it reason enough to kill her?” Rain smiled broadly. “If I was a psychopath, yeah, I think that would trigger me into an episode of destruction, but I’m a businesswoman and I have to accept that I lose out on some deals. It’s just with Miss Storm, well, she was a piece of work. Now she’s dead, I figure the author she snapped up from under my nose will find his way back to me.”

  Kane narrowed his gaze on her. “So, you had a motive to kill her?”

  “Yeah, well I suppose I did… but I didn’t.” Rain shrugged. “Although I admit it does look suspicious. Hell, it would make a great plot for a story. Agent kills agent over a client.”

  “Okay.” Kane exchanged a meaningful glance with Jenna. “Do you think the ending would be the same? Miss Storm drowned in the pool outside her chalet.”

  “More like, did she slip or was she pushed?” Rain’s full lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Rumor has it there was a pen involved? Do tell me where they shoved it?”

  On full alert, Kane leaned back and observed her for a beat. Had he read this woman all wrong? Not a soul outside their team knew about the pen. “What pen is that?”

  “Oh, I overheard it on my travels. Someone mentioned something about her favorite gold pen being involved.” Rain examined her nails. “I don’t recall who said it. Do you have any idea how many people speak to me at a conference? Hundreds.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Every one of them wants to pitch a story to me, insisting their story is the next bestseller.” She threw both hands in the air. “Do you have any idea how many actually have an idea that will sell? Less than one percent. Honestly, I know how long people labor over writing stories and I appreciate the time they take, but if they don’t have the ability to write, nothing I can do will sell it.”

  The woman was doing a classic time-wasting ploy and she was darn good at it. Kane leaned forward on the desk and eyeballed her. “Can we cut to the chase? What exactly did Dakota Storm do to outmaneuver you in the deal with Joel Stanley. I already know he is the author of the novel in question.”

  “I’d already informed him that I’d like him to sign with me.” Rain picked imaginary fluff from her sweater. “I sent him a contract. Next thing I know, she has his novel in an auction. Joel called me and told me she’d offered to take a lower commission, and as she has such a great reputation for making deals, he went with her.”

  Kane cleared his throat. “At least he told you.”

  “Yeah, and that’s why I’ve already called him about signing with me now that she’s dead.” Rain smiled. “I’m not giving anyone else a chance.”

  “Have you heard of a person by the name of Paul Tate?” Rio looked up from taking notes.

  “Paul Tate?” Rain blinked a few times and then shrugged. “Maybe. I do recall an author who pitched to me by that name… he used a pen name but I can’t remember what that was. His name was Paul Tate. Why?”

  Interested Kane leaned forward and examined her reaction. “Would you be able to find his details in your records?”

  “I have no idea.” Rain gave him an appalled look. “It could have been at any of the conventions. I only keep the details of the people I’m interested in reading their work. I’m sure if he impressed me, I’d have read his manuscript and remembered his name. I could give my PA a call and ask her to look through my files, but I don’t like your chances.”

  “If you wouldn’t mind and then get back to me if you find anything, I’d appreciate it.” Rio handed her his card with a smile. “Call me anytime.”

  Not quite finished, Kane smiled at her. “Just one more question. Do you own a laser pointer?”

  “Yeah.” Rain shrugged. “I need it for the discussions.” She stared at him. “They’re not weapons… well, unless you point them at aircraft. Now that would make an interesting plot, wouldn’t it?”

  “I think it’s been done before.” Kane pushed to his feet. “We’ve held you up long enough. Thanks for your help.” He walked to the door and waited for Parker Rain to follow him. “Just one more thing. Do you know Jedidiah Longfellow and Kitty Pandora?”

  “I’ve met them, yes.” Rain leaned against the wall, her eyes flitting in all directions but refusing to meet his gaze. “I often speak to the bestselling authors and hand them my card. It’s good business.” She raised both eyebrows. “Every day is a competition in my world.”

  The cab arrived and Kane waited for her to step into the elevator and then walked back into the suite. He leaned both hands on the table and sighed. “Wow!”

  “Yeah, she’d score high on the Hare Psychopathy Checklist.” Jenna was scrolling through her notes. “I’m not discounting her yet. She’s young and strong and quite capable of killing in my opinion.”

  Emily’s phone buzzed and she frowned at the text. “Julie’s bored, and once she’s done this session, she’s skipping the next forum.” She stood and looked at Kane. “I need some fresh air. I’ll take Julie with me. Do you want me to take Duke out for a run?”

  “Sure.” Kane fished his keycard out of his pocket and handed it to her. “He’ll need his coat. Why don’t you bring him up here when you’re done? He’d enjoy the company.”

  “I’ll ride down with her.” Rio stood and grabbed his coat. “It will be safer.”

  “Then go with them but don’t go too far.” Jenna looked up from her screen. “We can handle Murphy Finnian.”

  Forty-Three

  It had been a really weird day for Julie. She had the prickly feeling of being watched, and after heading for a quiet place, she’d called Emily, all the while feeling someone’s eyes following her every move. She’d return
ed reluctantly to the hall, but it seemed she’d grown a second sense for danger since moving to Black Rock Falls. She thought she’d gotten used to living in a crazy world, but obviously she hadn’t. It seemed that day-to-day life changed so swiftly she never really knew for sure what would happen next. Would life ever return to normal? Could she reach her goal of becoming a pediatrician? It seemed such a long way off and with so many obstacles in the way. As she’d grown older, the harder life became and being an adult wasn’t what she’d thought it would be at all. If it wasn’t for her dad, going the extra mile and keeping her interested in her studies, she might have fallen by the wayside. Pushing her worries aside, she glanced around the hall. It was nice being with her friends at the conference, but the hairs on the back of her neck rose again, followed by the need to turn around. When she did, she saw people, smiling faces most times—so what was spooking her?

  She tried to immerse herself in the lecture but the awful feeling someone was watching her just wouldn’t go away. Apologizing to her friends, she stood and made her way to the door. Waiting inside the entrance, she scrolled through the selfies she’d taken with her friends and various authors. Her stomach dropped as she scanned six or seven images and then noticed the same person photobombing each shot. She went back to the previous day and there in the background was the figure again. It was as if the person had pulled up their hoodie and turned their back when she’d taken the image. It seemed too much of a coincidence the person was in every shot. She lifted her gaze from the screen and scanned the room. There must have been twenty or so people wearing sweaters with hoods. It was warm in the conference rooms but not warm enough to go without a sweater. She shivered. Was the person who’d broken into her room stalking her? Did he want her to know he was close by, close enough to touch her?

  Fingers trembling, she slid the phone into her pocket and pushed her iPad into her backpack. She’d been buying a new book almost every day, having it autographed and collecting all the handouts from the authors and booksellers. Her backpack was filled to the brim. Her heart lifted at the sight of Emily and Zac at the door. She hurried to them and after bending to greet Duke, thrust her phone at Emily. “Look, the same person in each shot. Do you think that’s a stalker?”

  “Maybe, or someone having a joke.” Emily frowned. “This is why you can’t risk being alone. Dave doesn’t think that person in your room is the killer or you’d be dead. There’s no motive to kill you. All the murders are aimed toward people in the publishing business and you’re a student.”

  “I hope the creepy guy or whoever in your room was just a peeping Tom.” Rio walked beside her. “If he is this person in your pictures, yeah, you should be worried, but I very much doubt either of them would risk attacking you when you’re surrounded by people. You also have your stun gun, but if you see anyone following you, run into a crowd. If you get left behind in the bathroom, wait and call Emily rather than risk walking through the passages alone during the sessions.”

  “You’re coming upstairs with us as soon as we’ve walked Duke.” Emily’s mouth had turned down. “I figure you need to show these images to Jenna. She’ll know what to do.”

  Forty-Four

  After updating her files, Jenna called the office. As she was expecting Maggie to pick up, Rowley’s voice surprised her. “Hi, Jake. It’s Jenna. Is anything wrong? I thought you’d be taking a few personal days to get the twins settled.”

  “No need. Sandy’s parents have moved into the ranch to help out. I came in to relieve Walters.” Rowley sighed. “Everything is under control here, just the usual fender benders in the snow. Most folks are staying home, apart from dashing into town for supplies when the snowplows go through.”

  Jenna stood and paced the room, stopping to peer out the window at the relentless snowfall. “How is Sandy? Are the twins doing, okay?”

  “She’s exhausted.” Rowley cleared his throat. “She insists on feeding them herself and it’s a ton of work. They’re hungry all the time, and Doc Brown suggested we supplement them with a bottle, but they won’t take it and get so upset.” He sighed. “This is why I’m at work. I can manage the diaper thing just fine, but I can’t help feeding them. Her mom has this knack of getting them back to sleep, and once the chores are done, I’m just getting in the way.”

  Having no experience with babies, Jenna sucked in a breath. “I’m sure Sandy appreciates you being there, Jake. I know it’s stressful, but they’ll settle soon.” She thought for a beat. Maggie the receptionist was very capable and lived within walking distance to the office. “As it’s quiet in town, why don’t you leave the office to Maggie? She has Walters, Webber, and even Wolfe close by to call in an emergency.”

  “I guess.” Rowley sounded reluctant. “The snowplow has been keeping the road out my way clear. So, I could get here if needs be.”

  Jenna nodded to herself. “That’s good. Did they clear the road to the hospital?”

  “Yeah, the main problem was a snowplow was blocking the road. It had gotten stuck in a drift. It was so high the snowplow was completely hidden. It took some time but they cleared the road. The snowplows are running twenty-four hours a day. Plus, we have locals using their own to help clear some of the side roads.” Rowley cleared his throat. “It’s a friendly town, apart from the serial killers. Do you have any suspects yet?”

  “Four, but whoever is doing this changes their MO for each kill.” Jenna went back to her desk and sat down. “They are trapped here right under our noses and it’s like trying to catch smoke.” She turned as Kane’s phone buzzed and he moved away to take the call. “I have another interview to do. You get on home and I’ll call again when we get things sorted here.”

  “You’ll catch the killer.” Rowley chuckled. “You can catch smoke but you just need to think about it some more.”

  Jenna smiled. “Okay, I will. Chat soon.” She disconnected and looked at Kane.

  “Thanks, Bobby.” Kane closed his phone and turned to Jenna. “It may be nothing but August Bradford and Bexley Grayson were adopted. The records for their real parents are sealed and even Kalo can’t hack the files. This would tell me they came from a family involved in a crime. Either of them could be the son of a psychopath or witnessed horrendous crimes as a child. They’re using the names their adoptive parents gave them on their driver’s licenses and taxes. One of them could be Paul Tate, but being ten-years-old at the time, they’d still remember their real name and that they’d been adopted. These things don’t happen overnight. They could’ve spent some years in foster care before their adoption. This being the case, we should’ve got a reaction from them when the name was mentioned. It would have triggered an instant recollection and they didn’t as much as blink.”

  Jenna considered his words for a few moments. “What if they’re suffering from traumatic amnesia? Chances are they don’t remember their old life at all and it would account for why Paul Tate never contacted his best friend.”

  “Normally I’d say this was a possibility but it doesn’t add up on three counts.” Kane rested one hip on the edge of the desk. “The killer might have been traumatized after the first kill, but he killed twice more. He took trophies and he remembers his mother—because why else would he stalk Julie?” He rolled his shoulders and cricked his neck. “Why would he risk speaking to his friend? That’s the one person he wouldn’t want remembering details. Tate would know his old friend had seen things that could bring him down. He’d be hoping everything from that time would’ve been long forgotten.”

  Jenna rubbed her temples. “So, if Murphy Finnian isn’t Paul Tate, we’re back to square one.”

  “Only if we’re making the assumption that Paul Tate is the killer.” Kane scratched his chin. “He stabbed and mutilated his victims and not one of our current murders fits his MO. I think as Tate’s is a historical case, we should keep him as an alternative killer until we have more evidence. Yeah, we have earrings belonging to his mom, but that’s all. Like Jo said, our killer might
have known Paul Tate at one time.”

  Thinking of every possible angle, Jenna moved her attention slowly back to Kane. “Unless the killer planted the evidence? Think about it. What if the killer did know that Paul Tate murdered his mother and used the earrings to confuse us? If they did, they sure put up a massive smokescreen.”

  A loud knock came on the door.

  “Maybe.” Kane glanced toward the noise. “And if it isn’t Paul Tate, then taking your theory into account, it could just as easily be Parker Rain.” He walked over to see who was there. “Ah, Mr. Finnian, thanks for dropping by. Take a seat.”

  “I thought we’d been through all this before.” Finnian sat down with an exasperated expression on his face and placed his briefcase at his feet. “What on earth do you want with me now?”

  Jenna smoothed the pages of her notebook and met Finnian’s gaze. “Three people have died, Mr. Finnian, and you are one of four people who can’t verify their whereabouts at the time of the deaths. Four people out of everyone here, so you see we need to eliminate possible suspects.”

  “Do I need my lawyer?” Finnian leaned back in the chair, elbows resting on the arms and hands clenched as if he were praying.

  “You’re not under arrest.” Kane sat relaxed in an unthreatening pose, his face almost expressionless. “We’re trying to establish a timeline for each of the deceased and we need to know if you crossed paths is all. We’re gathering all the information we can find.”

  “Honestly, if this is part of an elaborate hoax, I’ll be sending you a bill for my time.” Finnian shook his head. “This is a business trip for me, this is where I find new clients.”

  Jenna nodded. “I wish it were a game, but it’s not.” She lifted her pen and looked at him. “I’m sure you’re aware of the names of the people involved by now. We’ve been tracking their whereabouts before their deaths and it seems all of them were in plain sight almost up to the time they died. This is very unusual, which leads us to believe they all knew their killers. So, Mr. Finnian, let’s take this one at a time. Did you know Kitty Pandora?”