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

by D. K. Hood

  “I’ve never actually met her, but she pitched to me at one time.” Finnian bent and fished a tablet from his briefcase. “I only remember her name because when her book was published, I recalled the title. I rejected her submission.” He scrolled through his tablet. “Ah yes, I liked her story but she had nothing else to offer. I don’t work with one-hit wonders; I prefer to represent someone with a ton of ideas.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t run into her here? She did do a reading of her book, I believe.” Kane made a few notes.

  “Very sure. Like I said, I’ve never met her.” Finnian sighed. “Next.”

  The aggravation poured off Finnian like a thick fog. “Dakota Storm?”

  “Everyone in this business knows Miss Storm.” He drummed his fingers on the desk. “In fact, most of the agents at the conference know each other. Many of us move from one agency to the next as we learn the business.”

  Interested more by the insights of the publishing business by the day, Jenna lifted her chin. “Has she ever undercut you in a deal?”

  “Trust me, she’s undercut everyone.” Finnian barked a laugh. “She is the queen of the deal. I’ve lost clients to her. Everyone has. It wasn’t worth killing her for. There are hidden gems everywhere, but admittedly, with her out of the picture it will level the playing field a little.”

  “Okay.” Kane looked up from his notes. “While you have your files open. Do you recall anyone by the name of Paul Tate?”

  Finnian gave a slight shake of his head but his eyes remained fixed on the screen. Jenna chewed on her bottom lip. Was this a tell? She exchanged a glance with Kane but couldn’t read his expression. After some moments had passed without Finnian saying a word, she leaned forward. “Well, Mr. Finnian. Have you had any contact with Paul Tate?”

  “No, I have not.” Finnian straightened. “At least he’s not in my current records. He could have pitched to me. I have thousands of authors pitching to me by email each week, not to mention the current conventions around the country. I do represent a variety of genres not just crime.”

  “I see.” Jenna sighed. They weren’t getting much information from him. “What about Jedidiah Longfellow?”

  “Yes, I’ve met Jed.” Finnian placed his tablet on the desk and leaned back in the chair. “He was one of the clients Miss Storm managed to tear from my clutches, but he did have a ton of offers.” He stared at the wall and shook his head slowly. “We could have made a great team. I would have guided him to a greatness Miss Storm could have only imagined.” His attention shifted back to Jenna. “To think that talent is gone. Such a waste, such a waste.”

  A sudden thought grasped Jenna. “Do you know August Bradford, Parker Rain, or Bexley Grayson?”

  “Parker, yes. I know her quite well. She’s an agent, and August Bradford and Bexley Grayson pitched to me here at the conference.” Finnian opened his hands wide. “Have I made them an offer? No, not as yet. I gave them my card and they’ll be forwarding the first three chapters of their manuscripts. They sounded reasonably interesting, but talking the talk isn’t walking the walk, is it?”

  Unable to think of any more questions to ask, Jenna looked at Kane. “Do you have any further questions?”

  “I’ve seen some of the presentations and noted with interest that many of the presenters use laser pointers during their sessions.” Kane was scrutinizing Finnian and had his combat face front and center. “Do you own one?”

  “Yeah, most of us do if we’re using the screen with examples.” Finnian shrugged. “It’s nothing unusual. Why?”

  “No reason.” Kane made a note and then closed his book. “That’s all we need for now. Thank you for your time.” He stood and walked Finnian to the door and out to the elevator.

  The elevator doors opened, Jenna heard Julie’s voice and she looked up to see Rio, Emily, and Julie spill into the hallway. They came inside and Julie rushed over to her. The girl looked wide-eyed and concerned. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yeah, I think someone is stalking me.” Julie dropped into the chair Finnian had vacated and explained.

  Concerned, Jenna listened with interest. “Show me the selfies.”

  She flicked through the image files and handed the phone to Kane. “That’s creepy.”

  “Yeah.” Kane’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the screen. “Maybe I should sleep on the sofa in your room until we catch this guy.”

  “I will.” Rio leaned on the table. “You’ll never fit on that sofa. Don’t worry, I’ll keep them safe.”

  Anxiety gripped Jenna’s stomach. “As soon as we can get you down the mountain, we will.” She held a hand up to stop the protest she could see forming on Julie’s lips. “In the meantime, one of us will be with you at all times.”

  “That’s crazy.” Julie’s eyes blazed. “Okay to and from the conference like now, but please don’t make me look like a kid in front of my friends. Come on, I have to go to school with these guys.” She looked from Jenna to Kane. “Do you honestly think the killer will try and hurt me in a crowd of people? Look I’ll even sit between my friends—okay? If I see anyone with a hoodie close by, I’ll move away.”

  Jenna shook her head. “I don’t like it, but as you’re legally an adult, I can’t make you do anything. But we all just want to keep you safe.” She looked at Julie’s distraught expression. “Okay, inside the halls, we’ll leave you be, but one of us will be there to walk you to your next session. We’ll try not to be noticeable but will be close by just in case. It’s not just you. Emily isn’t going anywhere alone either.”

  “Thank you.” Julie gave her a hug and then hugged Kane. “You’re the best.”

  Jenna shook her head. “I hope I don’t live to regret this.”

  “So do I.” Kane grimaced. “In case it slipped your mind, all of our suspects were wearing hoodies.”

  Forty-Five

  Excitement grips me as I check the digital readout on the bedside clock radio. It’s a little after three and I haven’t been able to sleep as my mind plans the next move. The fact the sheriff is aware I’m using a laser pointer to disable the cameras is challenging, but with so many of them being used at the conference, she’ll never suspect me. I’ve dressed in black, a woolen cap pulled down low to cover my hair, a hoodie arranged over the top, to make a shadow fall across my face. I wear leather gloves but will snag a pair of the big rubber gloves from the kitchen supplies to cover them as before. They’re so accommodating here and seem to supply everything I need. My room is off the main corridor, away from the CCTV camera beside the elevator, and another bonus is the hotel doors are recessed. The resulting shadow offers me protection as I head for the stairs, out of sight of anyone passing by. Once I reach the lobby, I’ll use the door to conceal me, when I aim the laser pointer at the camera. Then I’ll be free to move around undetected for at least two hours before returning to my room by retracing my steps.

  I’m breathing heavily as I push the release on the fire door and peek into the lobby. The lights are dimmed and only small downlights add a soft glow to the passageways. I aim my laser, watch the flash in the camera and, making sure my hood is pulled well down, ease out into the shadows. The myriad of human smells congeals in the heat from the ever-present log fires. I stop as the flames lure me closer, bringing back vivid memories of sins as a child. I enjoyed lighting fires and watching hunting cabins crackle, flames licking the sky and igniting the forest but I paid my penance after confessing my sins. My mom made sure of it but I must never tell.

  All is quiet. With so much snow, everything is silent once night descends; the guests go back to their rooms and then the mad rush of cleaners come out like elves to work from midnight until three, but all are gone by now. The next shift will be the bakers, who arrive at four each morning. I’ve watched and learned their shifts. I’ve a short time to do what I must for the maximum effect. I’m through the door to the kitchens and drop my passkey into the box and select another before making a mental note of the new security code
on the blackboard by the door. I smile to myself—1313 would be funny if I were superstitious. After helping myself to a pair of thick black rubber gloves and changing my shoes for one of the pairs of rubber boots in the mudroom, I head for the door. My thick socks will protect me from the cold. As I reach the exit, I hear someone cough and pull the knife from my belt. This wasn’t part of my plan. There’s no time to think. I step inside the broom closet, ease in beside the buckets and brooms, and then pull the door closed just enough so I can peek through a crack.

  Outside I hear voices, a man and a woman speaking in hushed tones. They shuffle past me, bringing the smell of the outdoors with them and trailing snow from outside, leaving wet footprints on the clean floor. How marvelously convenient. My heart pounds as they enter the kitchen but I wait and watch. Disposing of them would be a distraction and spreading their entrails across the kitchen floor an amusing idea, but it wouldn’t further my cause. I let out a silent sigh as they hurry past me, their arms laden with food supplies. They slip out the back door blissfully unaware how close they came to death. If they’d seen me, I’d have killed them and not given them a second thought, but then my plans would’ve been spoiled. I give them time to move away before I grab a potato sack from the pile beside the door and head outside. I’m smiling as my flashlight bobs through the forest. I have all I need to collect a few of the better chapters of Quentin Riggs and drag them back to the lodge.

  As I inhale, the cold hits my lungs in a bolt of pain, but the smell of the tall pines is fresh and invigorates me. Snowflakes touch my cheeks like angel’s kisses in a welcome. I am one with the snow. It protects me, covers my tracks, and has kept all my adversaries from leaving before I’d taken my revenge. It will be a memorable night’s work and I won’t need an alibi, for not a soul has even noticed Riggs is missing. I chuckle. “Well, Sheriff, good luck at working out the time of death. It will be next March before you find the rest of him, unless the bears find him first.”

  Forty-Six

  Hammering on the door shocked Jenna awake. Grabbing her Glock and leaping out of bed, she checked the peephole. Mr. Brightway, his face ashen, was out in the hallway wearing a dressing gown. She threw open the door the same time as Kane burst out of the next room and Rio appeared in the doorway of the girl’s room. “What’s wrong?” Jenna lowered her weapon.

  “There’s a head in the kitchen freezer.” Brightway leaned on the wall and dry-retched.

  Horrified but drawing on her professional calm, Jenna sucked in a breath. “Okay, Mr. Brightway. Who found the body?”

  “The baker, Jeromy Eton.” Brightway visibly tried to keep control. “He called me and I went to look. I thought it must have been a prank.”

  Jenna frowned. “Where are the rest of your staff?”

  “The bakers arrive early, make the dough and leave it to rise, and then have breakfast before they return to bake the loaves.” Brightway rubbed both hands down his face. “They’re in the dining room. I told them to leave at once and go there.”

  “Does it look like the victim was killed in the kitchen?” Kane gave Brightway’s arm a shake. “There would be blood everywhere, signs of a struggle.”

  “N- no.” Brightway straightened, gathering himself. “Someone tracked snow into the kitchen, there are footprints to the storeroom but nothing else. The baker just thought it was people stealing again. We’ve had food going missing for weeks. We believe it’s staff members, but we’ve not worried too much. I do supply their meals, after all.” He shuddered. “Oh, Jesus help me, I can’t stop seeing it. The eyes are wide open… just staring.” He heaved again and covered his mouth.

  Swallowing the bile creeping up the back of her throat, Jenna looked at Rio. “Stay here with Julie and go tell Em we need her.” She looked at Kane. “Get dressed and we’ll go take a look.”

  “It’s four in the morning.” Emily stepped into the hallway. “What on earth is happening now?”

  Jenna explained. “Wait here, Mr. Brightway. We’ll be with you in a few minutes.” She hurried inside to dress.

  Pleased to see Emily had rallied to the call in an instant, she touched her arm as they stepped into the elevator. “This sounds brutal. Will you be okay? You’re not fully qualified to take this on. I’ll understand if you refuse.”

  “After what I saw in the James Stone case, I can handle a severed frozen head.” Emily rolled her eyes. “If I were squeamish, I wouldn’t want to be a medical examiner. This sort of thing doesn’t upset me. I just want to find out what happened to them. I can process the scene as well as Dad, but you’ll need to keep the body on ice, preferably in situ, so he can examine it firsthand. I’m not qualified to make the determination of cause of death.”

  “Oh, my God. How am I going to feed everyone?” Mr. Brightway covered his face with his hands. “I can’t legally run a kitchen with human body parts in the freezer.”

  “I assume you have more than one freezer?” Kane pulled on latex gloves.

  “Of course, we do.” Brightway gripped the handrail in the elevator with white knuckles.

  “So, we’ll move the freezer to another location. You have a forklift here. We’ll move it to an unoccupied chalet or one of the maintenance sheds.” Kane shrugged. “I’ll move it. You’ll have to dump any food in with the body, but apart from that, unless the murder occurred in the kitchen, there’ll be no problem with contamination.”

  Taking into consideration Kane’s conclusions, Jenna chewed on her bottom lip. “Due to the unusual circumstances, if the murder occurred elsewhere, once we’ve done a forensic sweep and cleared the crime scene, I’ll allow you to send in a crew to do a thorough cleaning, and then you’ll be able to reopen the kitchen.” She glanced at Kane and wrinkled her nose. “Although I suggest you swear your staff to secrecy. I don’t think the guests will be too happy if they find out, no matter how many times you clean it.”

  “We’ll be ruined.” Brightway, looked at her, his eyes wide. “What will you tell the media?”

  “We don’t release details of crimes.” Kane raised an eyebrow at Jenna. “Come morning, we’ll have moved the body and any press lurking around will see us working outside. I suggest you come up with another excuse for the kitchen closure.”

  “I can’t help you move the remains.” Brightway swayed a little. “I can’t go near the body again.”

  Jenna exchanged an exasperated look with Kane. “Don’t worry, Mr. Brightway, we’ll handle all that. We’ll even make an inventory of everything we remove from the freezer. You’ll have to replace the freezer, I’m afraid. It will be taken into evidence.”

  “I don’t think my insurance covers damage by murder.” Brightway looked horrified. “I’ll have to contact the owner. They live in Florida.”

  Jenna nodded. “I suggest you do that a little later, when they’re awake.”

  The doors whooshed open and they walked into the foyer. Jenna turned to Brightway. “We can take it from here. Please go and bring up the CCTV footage from last night. It would help us a great deal if you could look through it and see if anyone was moving around between say eleven and now.”

  “The staff finish cleaning at three, so he couldn’t have dumped the body before then.” Brightway stood staring at them. “The baking crew come on at four, so whoever did this did it between three and four.” He swallowed hard and his Adam’s apple moved up and down. “I should go and speak to the staff.”

  “No.” Jenna touched his arm. “Check the CCTV footage for us. I’ll speak to the staff, and when it’s okay to return to the kitchen, I’ll let them know. Breakfast will be canceled and maybe lunch too, I’m afraid.”

  “You’ll need these. They open everything.” Brightway handed her and Kane passkeys. “To get through the staff entrance.”

  “Thanks.” Jenna followed Kane to the kitchen doors and used the passkey to get inside. “So, the killer has an all-access passkey. There must be one missing if the staff leave them in the kitchen before they leave.”

 
“Yeah, but Brightway doesn’t have an exact number. He said twenty or so. I asked him when I handed back the master keys after the blackout.” Kane moved inside the brightly lit area. “Ah, footprints, as mentioned by Brightway. The staff usually change their shoes in the mudroom before entering the kitchens.”

  “Looks that way.” Emily dropped her kit onto a bench and pulled out booties. “Better suit up. Can you capture the scene, Dave?”

  “Sure.” Kane took the booties from her and pulled them over his boots. “We’ll clear the area first. I doubt anyone is lurking about, but we’ll need to check. Wait here.”

  After suiting up, Jenna pushed open the door to the kitchen. The fresh air was tainted with the smell of fresh meat, making her stomach clench. The freezer stood wide open and, heart hammering, she stared into the unseeing eyes of a dead man, his blue lips stretched out around Julie’s distinctive blue and orange scarf, the fringed ends stiff with frozen blood.

  Forty-Seven

  Sickened by the decapitated head, Jenna steeled herself to look closer. It was male for sure by the stubble covering the cheeks. Melted snow had plastered dark hair to his head, and water dripped off his nose. A pool of watery blood had collected in a large plate. On each side, two hands, and beside them the soles of two feet rested on a shelf. Dread shivered through her as she slipped silently through the kitchen doors, weapon drawn, and systematically cleared every walk-in storeroom. Kane followed close behind her, calling out as he cleared each area. She turned to look at him. “Go help Emily. I’ll speak to the staff.” She glanced around the spotless kitchen. “Nothing happened here. I could eat off this floor. Do you figure you can move the freezer?”