Deadly Potential

  “For us,” she teased.

  “For us,” he agreed.

  They watched Aggi deliver the final rhyme of the chorus, the words that only scratched the surface of what was between them.

  We’ll journey together, to strange and new shores,

  Because you have my heart, and I’ll always have yours.

  Thank you so much for reading my story. I hope you’ve enjoyed it.

  If you’re not quite ready for the fun to end, please visit my website jclewis.ca to see my chapter by chapter author commentary. I include notes on different scenes, characters, the inspirations and little nods included in the story, as well as some of the cool and interesting research tidbits that I found out while I was writing.

  And if you did enjoy the story, please consider leaving a review. It’s one of the best ways to ensure others can discover your favorite stories.

  Coming soon:

  The series continues with:

  UNTIL PROVEN GUILTY –

  Book 2 (Special Investigations Case File)

  “Another case solved, Investigator Adler?”

  Samantha Adler did not pause or slow her calculated stride to answer the sniggering inquiry from her colleague. Experience suggested the question was intended as the opening salvo to take her down a peg or two. There was a high probability of the conversation unfolding in a set pattern.

  She would answer the initial question affirmatively.

  The colleague would then ask for details.

  Sam would provide a concise and thorough synopsis.

  Next would come implications she had overlooked significant information, or made unjustified assumptions. Simplistic accusations based on faulty logic, leaving her with a no-win choice. She could correct the colleague, provoking further ire and potential outbursts. Or she could allow the colleague to believe they had bested her, undermining confidence in her analytical abilities, and encouraging further confrontations.

  The only possible solution is to avoid participation. Sam opened her private office, closing the door firmly behind her to shut out the angry grumblings.

  “Ordinary people are intimidated by demonstrations of intellectual skill,” she said softly to herself. Her grandmother had repeated the warning often during Sam’s adolescence, encouraging her to prioritize social conformity over exercising her talents.

  No one answered.

  Her partner and friend, Lucy, was still on leave. The tidy office was cold, pristine, and arranged exactly as Sam preferred. Yet somehow, it was not nearly as satisfactory as when filled with the clutter of Lucy’s technology and scraps of notes. Sam ran her fingers along the bare, dust-free surface of Lucy’s desk, allowing herself the rare indulgence of emotional regret.

  The computer monitor on the wall chirped with an incoming video call.

  Sam patted her smooth knot of hair at the nape of her neck, and tugged at her suit jacket to ensure all was in its proper place before answering.

  Investigator Ray Corwin’s cheerful smile filled the screen. “Investigator Adler. So pleased to see you again.”

  Her own lips remained in a disciplined line. “There is no need for polite lies, Investigator Corwin. You require my assistance.”

  A low chuckle sounded from off screen. “She is perceptive.”

  Sam’s mind sparked a rapid analysis. A man’s voice. Deep pitch, the result of significant levels of testosterone during adolescence, which would statistically mean a larger, more muscular form. Slight signs of vocal strain, a wavering in the syllables from frequent use. The speaker was used to projecting vocally, either lecturing or performing. A rhythmic pattern to the words with hints of a Southern accent, from the coastal region of South Carolina, to be precise. However, there were a number of regional accents overlaid on his speech. He had spent a significant portion of his life travelling across the Americas, Europe and Asia.

  “Tyler Valenza was convinced by a jury,” she said quietly. “It would seem to be redundant to investigate his case further at this point.”

  The unseen man coughed. “Bloody brilliant and bloody useless. I told you not to bother.”

  “Sam, please—”

  “Investigator Adler.”

  Ray refused to give up. “All I’m asking is a few minutes with that impressive brain of yours.”

  “Over two hundred people died in that plane crash. And despite your attempt at flattery, my impressive brain is required for other tasks. I am certain yours is adequate for whatever Mr. Valenza needs.” She reached for the button to end the call.

  “Afraid you can’t do it, luv?”

  His mimicry of her speech patterns annoyed her. To presume she was vulnerable to manipulation due to mockery was an intolerable insult.

  The camera swung around to show a man lounging in a nondescript molded plastic chair, the kind found in institutions around the world. His orange mass-issue shirt struggled to contain his muscular shoulders and arms. Brown hair hung neatly over his shoulders, the fluorescent overhead lights catching hints of red. His lopsided smile was a deliberate affectation, an attempt to maintain interpersonal control.

  “Just tell me one thing, Investigator Adler. How did you know it was me?” Tyler asked.

  “She will answer you,” Ray cautioned. “It’s the part most people regret.”

  “I want to know.” Tyler’s eyes were a remarkable shade of blue. Vibrant azure.

  Sam folded her hands in front of her. “He’s right. Most people regret asking me to share my observations about them.”

  “I ain’t most people.” He leaned closer to the camera. “Come on, Investigator Adler. Dazzle me.”

  “The incident was high profile. You had motive and opportunity. The Bureau of Special Investigations consulted extensively on your hypersensitive sense of touch, and confirmed it would have been possible for you to sabotage the plane. You passionately and vehemently insisted we were wrong, making it likely that you would welcome a secondary investigation.” She watched him carefully, noting the subtle twitches of eyebrow, mouth, and eyelid that allowed his true reactions to surface despite his mask of affability.

  Tyler shrugged. “Lots of people wanting fresh investigations in prison. We’ll all tell you how innocent we are, given a chance.”

  “Not many with your distinctive vocal identifiers.” Her own lips quirked in a regrettable admission of smugness. “Your talent as a vocal chameleon is well documented.”

  “You recognized my voice. Does this mean you’re a fan of my shows?” His flirtatious reply would have been intended to soften her resolve.

  Unfortunately for him, she did not care for indiscriminate flirtation. Her smile hardened into a baring of teeth. “Not at all. Professional magicians and their elaborate attempts to deceive their audience have no interest for me. And neither does your case.”

  “Open and shut. Just like that?” He lowered his voice. “See, you might think that you’re standing firm, luv, but I can tell I’ve already gotten under your skin.”

  She raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “And what, pray tell, has given you that impression?”

  “The fact that you’re still talking to me even through you intended to hang up two minutes ago.” He pulled back. “I’m innocent, Investigator Adler. Someone framed me, and did a damn comprehensive job. My new friend, Ray, tells me that you’re my only hope of proving it. So I’m begging for your help.”

  “For a man who claims to be begging, you still seem remarkably arrogant.”

  “Is that what you want?” He pushed back the chair, the harsh scrape of the metal legs on concrete screeching through the speaker. From the metallic jingling as he knelt, his hands and feet were secured, but he showed no sign of discomfort as he stared up at the camera. “I am begging for my life, Investigator Adler. I need someone who can see throu
gh to the truth, and who won’t hesitate to bring it to light. I need the best of the best, which is you. Please, don’t turn away from me.”

  His heartfelt plea surprised her. She would not have predicted he would be willing to humble himself in front of an audience. He gave every indication of sincerity. Despite his nonchalance, he was truly afraid.

  Decision made, she nodded sharply. “There is no need for theatrics, Mr. Valenza.”

  “No need, but certainly plenty of appreciation,” Ray added.

  She ignored the quip. “I will be leaving shortly on the next available flight.”

  Tyler’s gaze never left the camera. “Does this mean I’ve caught your interest?”

  “You have, Mr. Valenza. However, that is not necessarily a good thing. If you are innocent, I will find the evidence to prove it.”

  “Sounds pretty good to me, sugar.”

  She stared directly into the camera so that he could not mistake her meaning. “And if you are guilty, there will be no hiding it from me, and I will ensure you spent the rest of your life paying for your crimes.”