BOOKS BY MORGAN HANNAH MACDONALD
THE THOMAS FAMILY SERIES
SANDMAN
NIGHTSCREAM
LAST SCREAM
ICE SCREAM
HOLLOW SCREAM
HAUNTING SCREAM
SAVAGE SCREAM – Coming Summer 2018
THE SPIRITS SERIES
SPIRITS IN THE TREES
SPIRITS OF THE BAYOU
SPIRITS AMOUNG US
SPIRITS OF SEACLIFF MANOR
THE GRIFFIN SERIES
CODE NAME: GRIFFIN
KILL THE GRIFFIN
NIGHTSCREAM
Morgan Hannah MacDonald
Copyright © 2014 Morgan Hannah MacDonald
EPUB Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
DEDICATION
I want to thank three special women who have supported me through the years: Tracy Cassimus, Tammie Pearson & Jana Murphy. This one’s for you, ladies, with love and thanks.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Cover
Books by Morgan Hannah MacDonald
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
About the Book
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Excerpt from Last Scream
Acknowledgements
About the Thomas Family Series
About the Spirits Series
About the Griffin Series
About the Author
NO ONE WILL HEAR YOU SCREAM
A psychotic killer terrorizing a small mountain town preys on those hunting him.
Special Agent Cody Thomas, from the FBI’s Violent Crimes Unit in Los Angeles, takes a week off to do a little fishing, maybe a bit of hiking, in Big Bear.
HE’S WATCHING
Deputy Jilly Reid left the Central Homicide Unit of San Bernardino and moved up the mountain to get away from death. Handing out parking tickets and dealing with noise complaints is just fine with her.
HE’S WAITING
No sooner does Cody hit town when he runs into Jilly. The electricity between them is almost palpable, but there’s no time waste. An incoherent call just came into dispatch. A fisherman down in Hunters Cove is carrying on about finding dead bodies. Lots of them.
HE’S FURIOUS
Cody joins Jilly at the scene. What they find doesn’t belong in the sleepy little town. An underwater grave filled with the mutilated bodies of several women. Chained by their ankles to cinder blocks. Their long flowing tresses waving back and forth with the current. Their distorted faces crying out in a silent scream for all eternity. A serial killer has been using the lake as his own personal dumping ground.
YOU’RE DEAD
Due to the advanced decomp of the deceased; Cody and Jilly know the victims have been in the water a long time. Naturally they assume the killer has moved on. Until someone starts taunting them with psychological games. Then women begin disappearing at an alarming rate.
Together they must stop this twisted murderer or die trying.
ONE
Big Bear Lake, California
The sun had yet to show its face over the surrounding mountain peaks. The deep purple sky streaked with fuchsia, then a lighter pink scattered throughout the cotton candy clouds. The lake was smooth as glass. Not another living soul in sight.
Just the way he liked it. Just him and the fish.
Dale Tucker climbed into his skiff with his poles, tackle box, a blanket, and large thermos of coffee. After depositing the items on the floor of the boat, he leaned over and snatched the ice chest from the dock. Then he freed the rope securing the small craft to the piling.
Before he sat, he placed the folded blanket on top of the metal seat. Dale pulled up the collar of his insulated windbreaker before yanking the cord on the outboard motor. It was forty degrees when he’d left the cabin, but once the boat got going, the windchill factor would ratchet up a few knots.
Dale motored the boat across the lake to a new spot he’d heard about the day before over breakfast at the Teddy Bear restaurant. Overheard would be more apt. He’d listened as some old coot bragged about all the bass he’d caught there.
He cut the engine and let the boat drift. First things first, he baited his hook and threw it in the water, letting the current pull it along. Then he poured himself a cup of steaming coffee.
All at once, rays of sunlight broke through the trees on the snow-covered peaks above, skipping across the water, making it glisten. He took a deep breath; the aroma of pine filled his senses. Spring was in the air.
Blue jays squawked and a couple of squirrels chattered away as they chased each other along a tree branch. A splash sounded in the distance as a fish jumped out of the water. Before he’d finished his first cup of coffee, he felt a tug on his line.
A few hours later, with four healthy bass in his cooler, Dale was ready to head home. He glanced around and noticed he’d floated some distance away from his original spot. He searched the shoreline and realized he was just off of Hunters Cove.
He’d be back. After packing everything up, he stood and pulled the ripcord on the motor. It started right up, but the boat didn’t move. The water churned with bubbles, but the blade seemed to be stuck.
The smell of the motor burning reached him and he shut the engine down immediately. From where he stood, he couldn’t see the problem. He tried to pull the motor up, but it wouldn’t budge. It was caught on something.
He grabbed his knife and jumped into the lake. He gasped at the frigid temperature and made a mental note to act quickly. He gulped a lungful of air and dove. He’d expected to find a tree limb snagging the boat; instead, something had wrapped itself around the blade itself.
His eyes scanned down its length where he noticed a strange phenomenon. It looked like some sort of sea grass waving back and forth with the current. The colors changed from black to red to brown. It was kind of cool.
Dale didn’t have a clue what it could be; he’d never seen anything like it. He kicked to the surface and took another deep breath before investigating further. He swam past the grass. It took a few seconds for his brain to comprehend exactly what he was seeing.
His eyes widened.
The air escaped his lungs in a rush. He scissor-kicked and pulled himself up as fast as possible. When he breached the surface, he greedily sucked in air. A scream was not far behind.
It was not a new exotic plant.
It was hair.
Long, beautiful manes of hair still attache
d to the heads of what had once been women. He’d found himself a watery graveyard. Chained by their ankles to large cinder blocks were several naked bloated bodies.
Their faces set in silent screams for all eternity.
The image would be ingrained in his memory forever.
TWO
Jillian Reid knew she’d made the right decision to leave the Centralized Homicide Unit in San Bernardino to become a deputy in her hometown of Big Bear. Not just because she’d gotten away from her sleazy ex-husband, the lying cheating scum-of-the-earth.
But she’d had enough of dead bodies and the horribly evil things people did to one another. Still, she had to laugh. In the six months since her return, she’d been to Mrs. Bronski’s house at least ten times.
The poor thing lived alone. Her family had all moved away and the eighty year old woman was lonely. Mrs. Bronski had been her third grade teacher and Jilly loved her. Every time she came to answer a call, a plate of homemade cookies and fresh coffee were waiting.
The complaint today was the neighbor’s barking dog. Jilly had gone over to speak to the man who had his dog tethered to a tree in the yard, but he wasn’t home. She’d have to come back later. So she ate three cookies, finished off a cup of coffee, and promised to return. She was in her cruiser writing notes for her report when her radio squawked.
“Jilly, you there?”
She picked up the microphone and hit the transmit button.
“Yeah, Marge, what’s up?”
“Are you still over at the Bronski house?”
“Just getting ready to leave. Why?”
“Dale Tucker’s on that side of the lake. He’s hysterical, but I could swear he said he found dead women over by Hunters Cove–”
“What?” Jilly started the engine.
“I’m pretty sure that’s what he said, but he was talking crazy. Something about sea grass not letting him leave.”
“He probably got tangled in a bush or a fallen tree,” Jilly said.
“I know. I told you he was talking crazy. Can you check it out?”
“Sure. Where’s Bud?”
“He’s spending the day at the courthouse down the mountain. I don’t expect him back until late this afternoon.”
“Okay, I’m on my way. Thanks, Marge.” Jilly hung up the mic, put her vehicle in reverse and gunned it. She’d just cleared the driveway when there was a huge crash. “Crap.”
She’d plowed into the passenger side of what looked like a brand new black Mustang. Good going, you just totaled a tourist’s car. That’s going to go over just great.
She jumped out of the SUV and ran toward the driver’s side of the vehicle.
“Are you all right?” she yelled as she rounded the back of the car. A tall man unfolded himself from the seat. His neatly trimmed sandy blond hair was spiked up in front, he had a dark five o’clock shadow, and the most amazing green eyes. They reminded her of – “Cody Thomas?”
A slow sexy grin spread across his face.
“Well, Jilly Reid, as I live and breathe. Last I heard you were a homicide detective down the mountain. What are you doing driving a sheriff’s vehicle up here?”
“What are you doing here? I thought you were a big bad FBI agent out in Montana.”
He tilted his head. “I asked you first.”
“I’ve been back about six months now.”
“What happened, did that temper of yours get you fired?”
Jilly’s hands fisted at her sides. “No, I did not get fired.”
“Did your husband kick you out?” He chuckled.
“You are the same arrogant SOB you were in high school.” If he didn’t wipe that shit-eating grin off his face, she was going to do it for him. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m meeting my brother and his girlfriend for a little R & R at my grandparents’ cabin.” His brows rose. “You still haven’t answered my question. What brought you back up the mountain?”
Jilly stared up at him. He had to be a good foot taller than her five foot five. He’d obviously kept growing after high school. Damn, but she’d had a wicked crush on the guy from the time he’d moved here their sophomore year. Of course, he never looked her way. He was a jock and she was a nerd.
“As much as I’d like to shoot the breeze, I have somewhere I need to be. I’ll have Marge call you a tow truck and I’ll write up the accident report later. I have to go.” With that, Jilly turned her back on him. He grabbed her wrist and she spun around, spoiling for a fight.
“If you haven’t noticed, our cars are tangled.” He looked at her with that I’m-all-that-and-a-bag-of-chips expression of his. The guy still had the ability to fluster her. Instantly she was that gawky teen and he the most popular boy in school.
“I noticed,” she ground out. “I’ll just pull up and you can move your car to the side of the road. I have police business.” She wrenched her wrist free.
“Yeah, well, that cat stuck up in the tree will have to wait.”
“For your information, it is not a cat stuck in a tree. It’s a dead body, a few I’m told. So if you’ll excuse me.” She turned on her heels.
“Dead bodies. Here?” Cody said.
Jilly glanced at him over her shoulder. His expression had mellowed. No longer smiling, he looked worried. The fight in her fled. “Look, I don’t know. It could be nothing, but Dale Tucker is pretty freaked out about something he saw and I need to get over to Hunters Cove immediately to check it out.”
He put his hands in his pockets. “Maybe I can help.”
“Not on your life. We don’t need the FBI on this. Remember, we have our own central homicide unit. If I need them, I’ll call.”
“You can’t leave the scene of an accident. You hit me, remember? Either I go with you, or I’ll file a lawsuit against the city. It’s your choice.”
“You’d do that?” She stared at the steely determination in his face. “You have not changed one bit. You’re still an asshat.” His expression did not change. “Fine, move your vehicle and we’ll deal with this later.”
He slipped back into his car and waited for her. She pulled forward and the loud crunching sound made her cringe. She wasn’t looking forward to telling Bud about this, and she didn’t just mean the accident.
The sheriff would be less than pleased she was taking an FBI agent to their scene. But if the dickwad sued the city, she’d be in big trouble. So she had to make an executive decision since Bud was tied up for the day. Special Agent Cody Thomas was coming with her.
Jilly watched as he parked the Mustang on the side of the road, then she pulled up next to his car and braked. Cody opened the door and once again his face was plastered with a big smile. Her blood boiled. “Just get in and shut the hell up.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a two-finger salute and slid into the passenger’s side. “I must say, you’ve filled out nicely over the years. You were a bit scrawny back in the day.”
“What part of shut up don’t you understand?” She bit out.
Jilly turned on the lights and siren this time when she took off. Before long they were at the lake. She slowed at the turn to Hunters Cove and soon came upon Dale standing in the middle of the road, waving.
He looked like a drowned rat. He wore a blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a shawl. She got out of the vehicle and hitched up her heavy utility belt as she walked toward him.
“Dale.” Jilly gave him a nod. “What’s going on here?” The fifty-something man did not look good. His face was deathly pale and his eyes were bloodshot.
“Dead women.” Dale gulped a breath. “In the water. I saw them.” His body shook uncontrollably even as he pulled the wool material tighter around his neck.
“Cody, I have some blankets in the back of my rig. Would you bring me a few?”
“You got it.” Cody jogged back toward the SUV.
She turned to Dale. “Okay, just relax. Let’s have a seat over here.” She led him to a fallen log.
Cody re
turned with the blankets and handed them to Dale.
“Now, start at the beginning,” Jilly said.
After Dale had finished his story, she glanced at Cody to gauge his reaction. He wore a grim expression. Without a word, he started unbuttoning his flannel shirt.
“What are you doing?” Jilly watched as he yanked the bottom of the shirt from his pants, removed it and hung it on the end of a tree branch. Her jaw dropped, she couldn’t help it.
The man’s body was sculpted; from his pecs, to his abs, on down to his obliques that disappeared into his low-slung jeans. Crap. Lustful thoughts followed.
Cody sat on the fallen log and started taking off his hiking boots. “I’m going in.”
“You’ll freeze your ass off. The water’s got to be pretty cold with the spring runoff.”
“You got a better idea?” He removed a sock and stuffed it into a boot.
“Yeah, we get someone out here in a wetsuit.”
“And if he’s mistaken?” Cody asked.
“I’m not mistaken nothin’. You just wait and see,” Dale said, affronted.
Cody focused on the older man. “I know you’re upset, Mr. Tucker. I just want to check it out. That’s all. Sometimes our minds play tricks on us. The water can get pretty murky. Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Cody stood and dropped his pants. He stood just a few feet away in a pair of burgundy boxer briefs. Jilly found herself staring at his package. Her eyes flew up to his face. “Are you going to strip naked?” This was getting way out of hand. The guy was nuts!
“Sorry to disappoint you, but this is as far as I go unless you’re willing to buy me dinner first.” He flashed her a naughty grin and wiggled his eyebrows at her.
Jilly crossed her arms over her chest. “Ha ha, very funny.”
He folded his jeans and laid them on a stump.
Then she watched his very fine ass disappear into the water.
Jilly was right, of course. The water was so cold that his goosebumps had goosebumps. He swam toward the boat, and stopped short a good five feet before he dove. He followed the appendage tangled round the blade of the outboard motor. Sure enough, that was a woman’s head. By his calculations, her hair must be a good three feet in length.
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