PAST IMPERFECT
A Mr. White Novel - Book 1 - Taken! Series 2
Remington Kane
Contents
Introduction
Join My Inner Circle
Acknowledgments
A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
TAKEN! RETURNS
Afterword
Join My Inner Circle
Coming Soon
Make Contact
Bibliography
Introduction
PAST IMPERFECT – A MR. WHITE NOVEL – BOOK 1
(A TAKEN! SERIES)
The past catches up to Mr. White and results in him and Jessica going on the hunt for a killer.
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Acknowledgments
I write for you.
—Remington Kane
A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR
I ended the original Taken! Series after twenty books had been published because I wanted to have time to write other things—such as my FBI Revenge Series—and to focus on the Tanner Series.
In the years since then, I’ve heard from many readers who told me they missed Dr. White and her exceptional husband. After realizing that I missed them as well, I decided to carve out time in my schedule to begin work on the first book of a New Taken! Series. This is that book.
If you’ve never read Taken! before, I advise you to start with Book One – Love Conquers All, of the original series and start from there. While I did endeavor to explain the relationships of the main characters in this novel, to summarize the events of over twenty books would be massively boring for the readers this volume was intended for, those who are Taken! fans and have already read the earlier series.
That said, this book can be read and enjoyed without having prior knowledge of the first series. And if you’re new to Taken! or my books in general, I welcome you and thank you for choosing my novel.
Enjoy the ride!
—Remington Kane
Prologue
JUNE 1996
He watched her, as he had for weeks.
He knew her routine, where she worked, what school she attended, he even knew the name of her cat. He watched her.
He knew what made her laugh, what made her cry, what made her happy or sad. He knew her mannerisms, the tilt of her head, the birthmark on her calf, the way she crinkled her eyes and the way the left corner of her mouth rose just a bit higher than the right when she smiled.
She was beautiful, and he wanted her.
She was beautiful, and he needed her.
She was beautiful, and he would take her.
He had fought his needs for years and now admitted defeat.
He was a monster and he knew it. He was a monster, because who but a monster looked at beauty and ached to sully it, beheld innocence and schemed to destroy it, gazed upon a woman, a teenage girl, and planned to murder her.
She had to die. If she didn’t die, she’d talk, and if she talked, he would be done. He pushed the thought of her murder from his mind and instead thought about the moment when he would at last have what he needed.
He swiveled his head and stared back into the van. On the floor was an air mattress, and next to that, a roll of duct tape. Soon, very soon he would put his plan in gear, then maybe the aching would at last go away, the yearning cease, and for a few days, or even a few blessed hours, he would know what it was like to be at peace.
Detective York gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile to Sienna Ross, as he readied the beautiful college freshman to act as bait.
By a fluke, the man who owned the business across the street from where she worked noticed that a white van with out of state plates was often parked nearby when Sienna left her part-time job.
The man reported it to the police, and when York followed up on the call, he saw that the man was right, and that the boy driving the white van was stalking Sienna Ross.
York had only gotten a look at the boy through binoculars, but saw that he was a handsome kid, handsome that is, if you ignored the eyes, the boy had the eyes of a predator.
York considered talking to the kid but thought that unwise. If the boy were truly a danger to women, then speaking with him would only alert him to be more discreet, and eventually he would choose a new victim somewhere else.
It took some convincing, but York talked his captain into authorizing surveillance, and he also persuaded him to enlist the aid of the boy’s intended victim, Sienna Ross.
When told about him, Sienna said that she had never noticed the boy following her, but that she would love the chance to take the creep off the streets.
Sienna informed York that she wanted to be a cop when she finished college, and that this experience would give her a taste of undercover work.
York liked the girl’s spirit and thought that she would be able to handle the stress of being bait. And for the past two days, she’d done just that, as the boy in the van appeared to be readying himself to strike.
Sienna Ross took in a deep breath, released it, and exited her part-time job, while fighting the urge to run over and stare at the boy in the van.
She had never seen the boy, but merely a photo taken under bad lighting conditions with a telephoto lens, and the only angle of sight into the van was from across the street.
Sienna wanted to get a good look at him but was cautioned not to deviate from her usual routine or to make eye contact.
She walked toward the coffee shop she habitually stopped at on the way home and could feel the boy’s eyes upon her. Unable to fight the urge any longer, she thought of a way to get a look into the van.
When she was sure that the breeze was blowing in the right direction, she opened her hand and the dollar bill she carried fluttered back along the way she had just come.
Sienna turned in a flash, eyes locked on the van, and when she saw the boy’s face, it startled her.
He’s so beautiful, but oh, those eyes.
She tore her gaze away from the boy before he could return her stare, and looked down at the sidewalk, where she located the wayward dollar and picked it up.
A second detective was waiting for her in the coffee shop. After assuring Sienna that she was doing fine, he handed her the usual cup of tea she stopped for, then sent her back out to spring the trap.
She’s so damn beautiful.
He studied his prey as she left her part-time job and walked along the avenue, watching the sway of her hips, the swinging of her golden hair, the movement of her breasts.
In a flash, she turned, and was walking back the way she had come, back toward him. He kept staring at her, while wondering if perhaps his prey had somehow become aware of him and sought confrontation. And yet, when he searched her blue eyes, he found them looking at the ground.
No, there, on the sidewalk, she dropped something.
He was near enough to see what it was and discovered that it was money. After scooping up the dollar bill, she turned and continued her course.
He knew where she was going. He knew everything about her.
She walked a hundred feet farther and then turned ri
ght through the doorway of a local coffee shop.
Less than a minute later, she emerged with a cup in her hand and took her first sip. It was tea, not coffee, and she liked it with a slice of lemon and two sugars.
She continued on, with drink in hand, and a few yards later, she entered a parking lot. As she drove out of the lot, he pulled away from the curb and followed her.
Detective York sighed with frustration.
He had assumed that the boy would attack Sienna as she went for her car in the municipal parking lot, since she always parked in the rear corner of the lot under a tree.
He had thought the boy would wait for her to appear after getting her tea, and then jump out from behind the tree and take her.
But no, the boy continued to sit in the van, and when Ross did emerge with her tea, York saw that the boy just sat and watched her.
Even though Sienna knew that the boy would never get the chance to harm her, she was pale with fear as she approached her car. But when nothing happened, she did as York instructed her to do, and continued with her regular routine.
It wasn’t until she was climbing the hill in the park that she noticed the white van in her rearview mirror and realized that the boy was still following her.
She was driving to the park, as he knew she would. By cutting through the park she took a full minute off her short commute and got to take in the greenery as a bonus. However, the road she traveled was in the highest elevation of the park and the least frequently traveled. Its surroundings were free of children’s play areas, basketball courts, and baseball fields. The only attraction was a wide lawn to the left side of the road that saw few visitors.
As he followed along, he took note that they were the only two vehicles in sight.
He pulled off into a parking area and watched her drive on.
Soon, very soon.
He sat there thinking about her wondering what the reality of having her all to himself would feel like, and what ecstasy she would bring, this prey of his.
She.
Her.
Prey.
That was how he thought of her. It was how he must think of her. If he thought of her as who she was, as the person she was, he knew that he would never be able to go through with it.
And yet, she did have a name, and a beautiful one at that.
Sienna Ross, her name was Sienna Ross, and, soon, very soon, he thought, she would be his.
Detective York saw the van give up pursuit of Sienna Ross’s car and pull off into the lot inside the park.
As he drove by on the road in an unmarked vehicle, York risked a glance toward the van and saw that the boy was just sitting there, and he wondered if the kid had lost his nerve.
After leaving the park, York pulled up beside Sienna at a traffic light and gestured for her to pull over onto the side of the road.
After parking, Sienna left her car and walked toward Detective York with a pained expression. “Did I screw up somehow? Is that why he stopped following me?”
“No, Sienna, you’re doing excellent; I think it’s just a matter of timing.”
He watched as a car pulled into the lot inside the park and stopped at the opposite end.
Four people got out, two boys and two girls, but he only saw one of them.
She was the most beautiful thing his eyes had ever beheld.
He had thought Sienna Ross beautiful, and she was, without doubt, but this vision, this vision before him was to beauty what the sun is to light. She was blonde and tanned, and her blue eyes shone with an intelligence that he could spot even from his vantage point. His obsession of the last few weeks was fading from his mind, as a new passion was taking shape.
York spoke into his radio and made contact with his partner.
“Bill, what’s he doing now?”
“He’s just sitting there, but a group of teens got out of a car and started throwing a Frisbee around.”
“How many kids are there?”
“Four, two guys and two girls, and our boy is just sitting and watching them.”
York’s radio squawked loudly. He was informed that an attempted robbery had just gone down at a nearby grocery store. The subject was a young man with long blond hair who was carrying a knife. The perp didn’t get away with any cash, but he did stab the store clerk in the arm before running away and was considered to be dangerous.
York spoke into his radio again. “Bill, did you hear that?”
“Yeah, should I take the call or keep watching the guy in the van?”
“Take the call and I’ll meet you there.”
“What should I do?” Sienna asked.
“Go home, and if you’re willing, we’ll try again tomorrow.”
“All right, and Detective?”
“Yes?”
“I hope we catch him.”
“He’ll be caught, either by us or someone else. That boy is a predator, Miss Ross, and that type of man can’t change.”
Sienna shivered. “May God help any girl that runs into him.”
“Amen to that,” York said, “amen to that.”
He stared at her through his windshield, as she and her companions tossed about a Frisbee. One of the boys, a brown-haired all-American type with large muscles and a thick neck seemed to be her boyfriend.
At a lull in the play, he watched as the boy leaned over and kissed the beauty. If he had been standing within reach, he would have been tempted to snap that thick neck of his like a twig.
A scream!
He turned his head and saw the other girl pointing and yelling at someone who was standing by their car. It was a young guy with long, stringy blond hair, and he was not much older than they were, not much older than he was, and the man was reaching through an open window and pulling something off the seat of the car. It was a purse.
The girl who screamed had her purse lying near her feet and so the one plucked from the car must belong to the beauty. Her boyfriend gave pursuit on foot with his friend beside him, but the thief had a healthy head start and was running downhill.
He put his van in gear and eased it out of the lot, to then drift down the hill and keep watch.
The long-haired thief was fast. He was already around the lake and nearly to the park’s north exit, where beyond lay the streets of the downtown area.
The boyfriend still gave pursuit, but he and his friend were falling well behind, as in the rear, the girls struggled to keep up.
He accelerated the van, went out onto the street, and soon he was passing the thief. He looked in his mirror and watched the man slow, as he tucked the beauty’s purse inside his shirt.
To the right was an alley, and guessing where the thief was headed, he turned into it and parked at the rear of a stationary store. Afterward, he exited the van and crouched behind a parked car.
Just as he began to think that he might have guessed wrong, he watched the thief walk into the alley and head for the nearest dumpster. He came up behind the man silently and said four words.
“Give me the purse.”
The man nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Huh?”
“Give me the girl’s purse.”
The stringy-haired man lowered the purse and brought out a knife.
He waited for the man to lunge, and when he did, he sidestepped it and crashed an elbow against the man’s head, then followed it with a hard kick to his face. A moment later, the thief fell to the ground, unconscious, as the purse slipped from his grasp.
He picked up the purse, then tossed the man over his shoulder. His movements were smooth, and he handled the man’s weight as if it mattered not.
Once he had the thief secured in the rear of his van, he opened the purse and looked inside. Printed on the driver’s license was the beauty’s name—JESSICA WHITE.
He had just enough time to get back in the van before he saw them crest the hill and walk toward the car. He watched them in his side-view mirror as they discovered the gifts he’d left lying atop their ho
od.
The thief, his wrists and ankles bound by duct tape and his mouth similarly gagged, and beside him, her purse.
The four of them shouted and laughed in wonder at the sight, but when they began looking about for their benefactor, he pulled away from the curb and headed for home.
Jessica White, beautiful, perfect, Jessica White.
He had been thinking of little else but Sienna Ross, but now, now she was as forgotten to him as the toys he once played with while a toddler.
Jessica White, he thought, Jessica White.
And his life, and hers, would never be the same.
Chapter 1
Three people, two men and a woman, lurked in the woods near the home of Dr. Jessica White, the famed serial killer expert and author. They weren’t interested in Jessica; they were there for her husband.
They had spent the last three days watching Mr. White and learning his routine. They knew that he went for a mid-morning run after the children had gone off to school. On one of those three days, White had run with the family dog, a pit bull who was named Stitches. They knew something else about White, they knew that he was a predator.
Past Imperfect Page 1
