Plumber Prequel

by Leia Castle

  PLUMBER (Prequel)

  By Leia Castle

  www.LeiaCastle.com

  ©2015 All Rights Reserved

  Praise for www.LeiaCastle.com

  “Let me just say that this is a very intense read! Stella and Christian’s attraction towards each other makes it a hot and very emotional reading. It’s an amazing story and I can’t wait to read what happens next between the two. The part about the mom driving and the danger of being caught are such a thrill! As always, I look forward to your next ebook!”-- J. B., United States

  “Yummy Christian Wakefield. This book blew me away. The story is so hot! I was turned on for the entire book!! The sizzling hot chemistry and Christian’s reckless behavior in the car are just WOW!”-- W.A., United States

  “Sensational read! Leia, your ebook never disappoints! I can’t get enough of Christian. I want more now!!” -- Anna., United States

  “I just felt thoroughly entertained while reading your book. It had the perfect balance of emotional conflict and amazing chemistry. I hope that I get to read more of the characters in the upcoming releases.” -- A.G., France

  “I read the entire ebook in one night. I can’t put it down. The book starts out explaining the conflict Stella feels towards her stepdad. The story captivates me from the first page to the last word. It is a page turner and I can’t put it down! Hot, sexy, emotional read!” -- Andrea, United States

  “The story actually has depth and character development. Yes, there’s really hot sex, but it is very well written in a tasteful way. I’m now a full blown fan.” -- G.E, United States

  “I love the book! It was an emotional rollercoaster. Even though it’s an erotica, it provided a glimpse into the character’s emotional journey. The ending will blow you away! I can’t wait to read more stories from Leia!”-- J.P., United States

  Copyright © 2015 www.LeiaCastle.com

  All rights reserved.

  Published by LeiaCastle.com. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 United States Copyright Act, without either the prior written permission of the Publisher, or authorization through payment of the appropriate per-copy fee.

  Requests to the Publisher for permission should be addressed to the Permissions Department of the address listed above, or emailed at leiacastleauthor@gmail.com

  LIMIT OF LIABILITY / DISCLAIMER OF WARRANTY

  While the publisher and author have used their best efforts in preparing this book, they make no representations or warranties with respect to the accuracy or completeness of the contents of this book and specifically disclaim any implied warranties of merchantability or fitness for a particular purpose. No warranty may be created or extended by sales representatives or written sales materials. The book 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 actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Neither the publisher nor author shall be liable for any loss of profit or any other commercial damages, including but not limited to special, incidental, consequential, or other damages. For general information on our other products and services or for technical support, please contact our Customer Care Department at leiacastleauthor@gmail.com

  The content contains explicit sex. You must be over 18 years old.

  For more information about LeiaCastle.com books, visit our web site at www.LeiaCastle.com

  Table of Contents

  Free Bonus Book!

  Chapter 1 Volker

  Chapter 2 Volker

  Chapter 3 Ryan

  Chapter 4 Ryan

  Chapter 5 Volker

  Chapter 6 Volker

  Chapter 7 Volker

  Chapter 8 Volker

  Chapter 9 Ryan

  Chapter 10 Ryan

  Chapter 11 Ryan

  Chapter 12 Paula

  Free Bonus Book!

  Free Bonus Book!

  Receive the Next 10 Chapters for FREE at: www.LeiaCastle.com/plumber

  Plumber Prequel PLUS 10 MORE CHAPTERS

  Plumber begins with the double homicide of a government official and his glamorous mistress. Volker Hangman is a serial killer who targets beautiful women and powerful men. Can the brilliant detective Ryan and his partner Paula solve the crimes and bring Volker to justice? Read this steamy, suspenseful thriller to find out. Click here to read free.

  Chapter 1 Volker

  June 2015, Los Angeles, California.

  THE NOON SUN SHONE through the narrow space between the wooden window blinds of a tall, skinny, 50-floor building in Westwood, Los Angeles, and landed on the slightly curvy spine of a young woman, making her back look almost translucent. Naked, her yoga-toned body was in a fluid motion, up and down, front and back, following the beats of the mating dance.

  She threw her head back. Her brunette pigtails brimmed on her bare breasts with erect nipples, as she reached orgasm.

  Two years ago, when the 18-year old Lara Gibbs bought a one-way ticket to Los Angeles, leaving her hometown Chicago, she’d had a dream of being a big movie star. She quickly realized that Hollywood was not for the faint of heart. Without money, she began working as a waitress in two different restaurants, making ends meet, while taking acting classes whenever she’d saved enough money.

  The constant rejections of roles, the poverty, and the impatience of waiting for the big break hardened her. She’d always been clever and resourceful and it didn’t take long before she realized that she needed a benefactor, preferably a rich, married, older man who’d support her financially, as she pursued her dream to be a movie star.

  Soon, she caught the eye of a married, well-off owner for an accounting firm and became his mistress, getting paid $1000 a month to entertain him once a week in her crampy apartment. The money wasn’t enough. And Lara expanded her “business” and designed a system to rotate through seven benefactors from Monday to Sunday, meeting them for lunch dates that wouldn’t raise questions from their wives.

  Monthly allowances, gifts, and holiday bonuses (especially over Valentine’s Day, when her benefactors felt guilty for not being with her) netted her $100,000 a year, all unreported and unknown to both the IRS and the trusting wives.

  On this particular day, Lara was with her Wednesday lunch date Gary Michaels, who had no idea there was also a Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday lunch dates, that occurred in the same bed.

  Gary Michaels was an important and powerful man you’d never heard of. Working at the zoning office of the Los Angeles City Hall, Gary was smart and knew how to get real estate developers to cough up money to speed up zoning approvals for their latest projects.

  Privately, Gary was a 52-year old, married romantic who believed the fairy tale that sexy women like Lara loved him for his tree-trunk body and sexually deviant mind.

  Kinky, his mind filled with scenarios of him being the silver-fox daddy and Lara being his naughty little girl. Gary loved to spank Lara in her catholic school girl outfits, until her rear end was red with his hand marks, then he’d throw her on the bed and they’d have wild sex.

  Today was a typical Wednesday for Gary. Work. Lunch date with Lara. Work, then go home to his unsuspecting wife and children.

  But you see, it was not a typical day at all. The last day of a man’s life was never typical.

  Chapter 2 Volker

  I lay still under the bed, as Lara and Gary humped away above me. The bed shook violently, as both partners got closer to climaxing. From head to toe, I was covered in a yellow biohazard suit, blue heavy duty
PVC gloves, and chemically protected sock boots. I could hear my own breathing, as air filtered through the black mask on my face.

  Lara’s orgasmic moan was my cue. With an ice pick, I poked three holes into a liquid sarin bag and pushed it out from below the bed. The nerve gas quickly spread into the room. The sound of screaming and gasping thrilled me. I crawled out from under the bed, unable to resist the temptation to watch my brilliant work.

  Oh yes, it was wonderful.

  Gary twitched on the bed, his pupils narrowed as he recognized my unique face behind the mask.

  Yes, it’s me. I’m your killer.

  I positioned my face directly above Gary, desperate to watch his every expression. He sweated profusely, and urine leaked out of penis. His eyes filled with anger and pain. I watched him die.

  Yes Gary, let it go.

  I turned my attention to Lara, the beautiful, sexy blond who didn’t have to die, if she was not involved with Gary. Pity filled my heart. She was mesmerizing. Her porcelain skin soft and flawless, like a fine piece of China.

  She was still alive. Her eyes full of horror and pain, as I clenched my hands into fists.

  I punched her. Again. Again. Again. My rubber glove covered with blood from her face.

  Chapter 3 Ryan

  My dad once told me that low expectations were the secret to a long marriage. I wondered if it held true for other areas as well.

  For example, my kids.

  My son, Max was staring at his math homework with the intensity of a homicide detective.

  "Dad, does 2x4 = 10?”

  10? In what world?

  I looked at his cute face. My father was definitely right. Low expectations were the mother of patience.

  "How did you get that number?"

  "Duh, dad," Max showed me his fingers. He counted his fingers, ignoring that, as he counted the first 8, the two pinky fingers creeped into the final count as well. "See 10 fingers."

  "I wouldn't recommend counting fingers for math. What do you do when you need more than 10 fingers?"

  "Dad, I’m in the first grade. I’ll worry about it when I need to."

  I sure hope the lack of math skills was something he’d grow out of.

  Suddenly, my phone rang. It was Paula Parker, my partner at LAPD. "I’m at 6892 Wilson Blvd in Westwood. Double homicide. Poison gas."

  I was hoping to spend the night with my kids - Max, Poppy, and Tucker.

  Max looked up from his homework. "Are you leaving?"

  "Sorry Max. I’ll get Mrs. Harris, next door, to watch you guys tonight."

  "When are you coming back Dad?"

  "In a few hours."

  I felt guilty when I hugged Max goodbye. I thought about my wife, Cassandra. I wish she was still here.

  Chapter 4 Ryan

  I drove to the condo building at 6892 Wilson. The street was blocked with traffic police directing cars to a detour. Dozens of bystanders watched from the sidewalk and through the windows from surrounding buildings.

  Paula was already at the crime scene, inside unit 3012, a modern 2-bedroom apartment with a sprawling city view, minimalist neutral color decorations. I walked into the master bedroom.

  "Hey Ryan," Paula greeted me, with a simple, efficient voice that was her trademark.

  32 years old, short-haired, and direct, Paula was the only female detective at my unit. She was known for her bullshit detecting ability, and busted balls of criminals and colleagues, who made the mistake of underestimating her.

  Going strong in our fifth year together, I couldn’t have asked for a better partner. She was street-smart and tough. Rarely let people in, she counted me as one of her few friends.

  "The male victim, Gary Michaels, 52 years old, is the city official in charge of zoning. The woman, Lara Gibbs, was from Chicago, appeared to be his mistress. The leasing office confirmed he’d paid her rent for the past four months," Paula said.

  Nice Midwest girl corrupted by the big city. I sighed.

  The condo in this building started at $2500/month. A two-bedroom condo on the 30th floor would cost a lot more, something a government employee shouldn’t be able to afford.

  "Victims were having sex, when they died. We found a 3 liter sarin bag on the floor."

  "Who found the body?"

  "The maintenance crew. Lara Gibbs submitted a request to unblock her bathroom sink."

  "Any suspects?"

  "We're looking into it. On the business side, he's in charge of zoning. There could be disgruntled real estate developers not happy with him. On the personal side, he's married and is seeing a young mistress on the side, so there could be jealous lover or spouse," Paula said.

  I turned my attention to the victims. The older man was naked, facing up, a beer belly protruded out. His face looked tortured. It’d been a painful death.

  Next to him was a naked, young woman. Her limp arms bent down at the edge of the bed. There were several sex toys; a vibrator, and two dildos next to the pillows. Her face was beaten up beyond recognition. Her breasts and thighs were pinched and punched with bruises. The killer had been here, when she died. She was either his target or he hated women.

  Someone would have to call her parents to inform them that their daughter was dead, next to her married lover. That had to be every parent's worst nightmare; to get a call that your perfect daughter was dead.

  My daughter Poppy was only two years old, but I could already feel my overprotective father's side worrying about her. Men were dangerous. It’d only get worse as she got older.

  I watched the dead woman. A young life ended tragically.

  Choices.

  Making choices.

  Sometimes a wrong choice could kill you.

  Chapter 5 Volker

  I was standing in line at Starbucks five blocks from the building where I killed Gary and Lara. I could still feel the intoxicating thrill of beating Lara to death, as she was paralyzed by the nerve gas.

  I punched her. She took them.

  The beating aroused me beyond belief, as I recalled the crunching sound as her cartilage broke under my fists. But I couldn’t fuck Lara and risk leaving my DNA.

  The impulse to strike again took over me. I needed to do this again, soon. Next time I’d go all the way with the girl.

  This was my favorite coffee shop. It was near a college campus in West LA, and filled with fresh, beautiful, college girls.

  For example, the pretty brunette standing right in front of me. She was wearing a black blouse and white shorts, showing off her beautiful runner’s legs - long, lean, with incredibly sexy calves. Her pink toe nails looked so cute.

  I watched her getting her vanilla latte with soymilk. As she fuddled to get out of her credit card, I noted her name on the visa card.

  Jennifer Butterfield.

  Yummy name. Just like her. She was definitely my type. I would love to see her naked in my bed.

  ***

  I followed Jennifer from Starbucks, keeping my distance. Slowly sipping on her latte, she wandered around the shops on Westwood Blvd, going inside a Victoria’s Secret store, then came out 30 mins later with a pink bag.

  My imagination ran wild about what she bought in there. Lacy panties? Push up bras? Lotions?

  The thrill of following her made me feel alive. It always did. The precious time before the attack, when the victim lived their simple life, unaware of the danger leaking behind them, was the second most exciting time for me.

  The first was when I beat them up, then had sex with them, as they cried and begged.

  Jennifer couldn’t be more perfect for such moments.

  She stopped in front of the Nail Salon, thinking about if she’d indulge herself with a manicure. She examined her nails closely. After a short deliberation, she walked into the nail salon.

  Self-indulgent, aren’t we?

  I stood across the street, watching the cute Jennifer, getting her manicure done with an Asian nail technician. I’d make sure I kissed those pretty nails of hers later.


  Half an hour later, she left the nail salon, staring at her newly painted nails with a satisfied smile

  It’d been an hour since I’d first laid my eyes on her. I couldn’t wait any longer.

  I followed her and watched as she headed towards a residential area, off campus.

  Yes, finally.

  She stopped in front of an apartment building, took the keys out of her pocket with the tips of two fingers, careful not to ruin the new polish.

  I waited until she got inside and made my move.

  My car was parked a few blocks away. I raced back to my parking spot, put on a hooded sweatshirt, and took my heavy toolbox. I put more money into the parking meter, for another two hours. That’d give me plenty of time to get to know Jennifer.

  Jennifer Butterfield, nice to meet you...

  Chapter 6 Volker

  I found Jennifer's apartment from the mailbox. Unit 208. Inside the building, the hallway was decorated by cheap gray carpet and smelled like pizza, beer, and marijuana. No security camera. I pulled up the hood on my sweatshirt and climbed the stars.

  The front of Jennifer’s door had a neat "Welcome" mat placed on the ground, which looked thoughtful and incompatible with her building.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.