Fatal Connection: A Phoenix Agency Crossover Novella (Phoenix Agency Universe Book 15)
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Fatal Connection
A Phoenix Agency Crossover Novella
First Edition
Copyright © 2020 Anna Blakely
All rights reserved.
All cover art and logo Copyright © 2020
Publisher: Decadent Publishing
Cover by Lori Jackson Design
Copy Editing by Tracy Roelle
ISBN: 978-1-68361-399-2
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden
without the written permission of the publisher.
Table of Contents
The Phoenix Agency
Prologue
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
Titles in The Phoenix Agency by Desiree Holt
Decadent Publishing Phoenix Agency Releases
The Phoenix Agency
They served their country in every branch of the military – Army Delta Force, SEALs, Air Force, Marines. We are pilots, snipers, medics – whatever the job calls for. And now as private citizens they serve in other capacities, as private contractors training security for defense contractors, as black ops eradicating drug dealers, as trained operatives ferreting out traitors. With the women in their lives who each have a unique psychic ability, they are a force to be reckoned with. Risen from the ashes of war, they continue to fight the battle on all fronts. They are Phoenix.
Dear Reader,
Welcome to The Phoenix Agency, a covert and high concept security agency, whose partners have served their country in every branch of the military – Army Delta Force, SEALs, Air Force, Marines. Risen from the ashes of war, they continue to fight the battle on all fronts. They are Phoenix.
In this series you will read books by a multitude of fabulous, creative authors who will bring the world of adventure into your mind. Each story, is developed completely—plotting, writing, editing— by the individual authors, whose talent takes you into a world of vivid adventure. I am honored that they choose to be a part of this series.
Thank you for purchasing this book. I hope you will collect all of them.
Desiree Holt
P.S. I hope you will pick up the titles I have written that established The Phoenix agency and its complex cast of characters: Jungle Inferno, Extrasensory, Scent of Danger, Freeze Frame, Feel the Heat, Formula For Danger, and Unexpected Risk.
Fatal Connection
A Phoenix Agency Crossover Novella
By
Anna Blakely
Dedication
To the incredible Desiree Holt. Thank you for trusting me with your characters and for giving me the opportunity to write a story within your world. Your faith and support are gifts that will forever be appreciated.
Prologue
“Please. My parents…they have money. My mom is really important. She’ll pay you whatever you want.”
They always think it’s about money. He stared down at his prey but said nothing.
The young woman began to cry. “P-please, let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone what you did.” She pulled hard against the restraints holding her to the table. “Let me go, you sick son of a bitch!”
There was the anger he’d been expecting. The fight and will to live that always came before the inevitable.
His dick swelled to half-mast as he watched her futile attempt to break free from the metal clasps tearing into her already-raw flesh. He resisted the urge to touch himself, knowing the satisfaction he was searching for was mere minutes away.
With a slow, deliberate smile, he turned and walked over to the tray where he kept his tools. Light from the single work lamp shone brightly off the metal as he picked up the first in a line of scalpels. The meticulous sterilization process he used after each liberation kept them in such pristine condition he could see his reflection.
He turned back to where his most recently chosen was laying. Wide, terrified eyes stared up into his as tears poured from their corners.
“You’re him, aren’t you?” her voice quivered. “The one who’s been killing all those women?”
“I am,” he spoke for the first time.
Her face crumbled. “Why? Why are you doing this to me?”
He walked toward her slowly, the scalpel gripped tightly between his fingers. With his free hand, he brushed some blonde strands from her sweaty forehead before looking back into her pretty blue eyes.
“I’m not doing this to you. I’m doing this for you.”
She shook her head as more tears ran down her temple. “I don’t understand.”
A smile spread across his face. “I know. But you will.”
He raised the scalpel and brought it to her throat. Eyes wide with horror, the young woman screamed. She jerked her wrists and ankles against the chains, her head shaking back and forth in a feeble attempt to avoid being cut.
“Shh…” he told her softly. “There’s no need to be frightened. You’ll see. You’re going to be free, soon.”
She stopped her frantic movements, her voice filling with hope as she asked, “Y-you’re going to let m-me go?”
“I’m going to do something even better.” He smiled even wider. “I’m going to liberate you.”
Light brown brows turned inward in confusion. “W-what do you m-mean?”
He brushed his fingertips along her forehead again. “I’m going to free you from the pain and suffering you’ve been forced to endure. I’m jealous, you know.”
Confusion and fear swirled together. “Why?”
He gave her a sad smile. “I wish I could go with you. But, I can’t. Not yet. There are still too many out there.” He ran a fingertip down her bare arm. “Too many women like you desperate for the kind of freedom only I can give them.”
This poor woman had been forced to live a life full of ridicule and harsh judgement. Punished for something she had no control over.
The creases in her forehead smoothed, and the light behind her eyes began to fade. It was a moment he hadn’t been lucky enough to share with the others. They’d been too busy screaming and crying to appreciate the gift he’d given them.
But this one was different. She actually understood what was about to happen.
The suffering this cruel world had thrust upon her was about to end. She was going to experience a freedom unlike any she’d ever known…and it was all thanks to him.
Chapter One
“So, you’re saying there are no leads in the
deaths of those five women?”
Alex Bennett clenched his jaw shut. Fucking reporters.
Standing on the concrete steps leading to the entrance for Chicago’s Twenty-Third District police station, the homicide detective took a much needed second to remind himself of where he was and who was listening.
With a tight smile, he locked eyes with the attractive reporter and shook his head. “No, Ms. Jennings. That’s not what I’m saying.” Clearing his throat, Alex addressed the entire, hungry group again. “Let me repeat myself, just so there are no misunderstandings. This an ongoing, joint investigation being conducted by both the FBI and the Chicago Police Department’s Special Homicide Unit. As you know, ongoing means I cannot discuss any details related to this case with the press or anyone else at this time. That includes any leads we may or may not have.”
As expected, a barrage of questions was thrown at him all at once. With more patience than he actually felt, Alex raised his hand and waited for the eager reporters to quiet down before speaking again.
“I assure you we are doing everything we can to identify the person or persons responsible for these women’s deaths. So is the FBI.”
“When will you release the name of his newest victim?”
“The identification was only made a few hours ago. As you know, family notifications can take some time. Once her next of kin has been made aware of the situation, I’m sure either the department or the FBI will make a formal statement.”
“Can you at least tell us the connection between all five victims?” Jennings tried again. “Women in this city need to know what this guy’s into.”
“She’s right.” A male reporter he didn’t recognize stepped forward. “The victims looked nothing alike. Is it safe to assume The Liberator isn’t choosing his victims based on physical attributes?”
Jesus, he hated that nickname. “No one should assume anything.”
Alex needed to regain control and shut this impromptu interview the hell down. Now.
“Listen”—he spoke to them all— “women in Chicago, as well as the outer lying areas, need to take the same precautions they always should.”
“What does that mean?” Jennings asked.
“It means, keep your head up and your eyes focused on what’s around you, not stuck in your phones or tablets. Be aware of your surroundings and pay attention to anything that may seem out of the ordinary. Avoid going into secluded, unsecured locations alone.” Then, because he felt it needed to be said, he added, “Basically, use some common sense.”
“Common sense?” A younger woman in the group asked sarcastically “That’s all you’ve got for us?”
Alex nodded. “It’s sound advice. Now, if you’ll excuse me, the sooner I get inside, the sooner I can continue working the case.”
Ignoring the shouted responses, he turned and made his way up the remaining steps and into the building. Blowing out a breath, Alex gave the officer guarding the door a tip of his chin. “Hey, Steve.”
“Mornin’, Alex.” Steve Deshaun gave him a knowing smile. “Rough one, already?”
“You could say that.” Alex shook his head. “They’re like a bunch of freakin’ vultures.”
The other man nodded. “That’s because they’re scared. The whole city is. Hell, my wife won’t even go to the store anymore unless I’m with her.”
Standing at six-five, the African American officer was a large, tower of a man. The guy retired four years ago with a full, well-earned pension, but still volunteered as a security officer for the precinct three days a week.
“I know.” Alex gave the man a look. “And I’ve got nothing to give them.”
A loud, clapping sound had them both looking to Alex’s right. Garrett Caldwell, his partner and best friend, was walking toward him. The tall bastard was clapping slowly and wearing a shit-eatin’ grin.
“Nicely done, Detective Bennett. You know, if this whole homicide gig doesn’t work out, you should consider becoming the department’s PR spokesperson.”
“Fuck off, Caldwell.”
Garrett laughed. “I’m just sayin’. You’ve got a way with words, my friend.”
“Yeah? Well, if we don’t catch this asshole soon, you and I are both gonna be looking for new gigs.”
With a quick nod, Alex told Steve goodbye and walked with Garrett to the set of stairs on their right. After scanning their ID badges, the door separating the specialized homicide unit from the rest of the station clicked open, and the two men started up a second set of stairs. At the top of those was Alex’s home away from home.
A large, open area housed the detectives’ desks. To the right of that was a small break room, and just ahead, past all the desks, was Sergeant Richard Murphy’s office.
Part of his family’s seventh generation to join the force, the fifty-year-old hard-ass had been a member of the Chicago Police Department since he was twenty-one. Making his way through the ranks, Murphy was chosen as the head of their high-level homicide crime division six years ago. Alex and Garrett both joined the group two years later.
Sergeant Murphy was good police, but he was also very old-school. He had no problems busting heads to get the answers they needed. Lucky for him, the department higher-ups cared more about their success rate than they did the methods Murphy used.
“Where are you going?” Garrett asked as Alex headed down the narrow hallway past the breakroom.
“To look at the files again.” He shot his partner a look from over his shoulder. “We’re missing something. I need to figure out what before he takes another victim.”
Entering the first room on their left, Alex went straight to the large whiteboard mounted on the south wall. With his arms crossed, he stood in front of it. Studying the pictures of the women The Liberator had murdered.
Sandra Denney, Rebecca Neilson, Amanda Schultz, Lizzy Stonehauser, and the latest victim, Chloe Howard.
Standing at five-three with blond hair and bright, blue eyes, Sandra was what Alex would call the girl-next-door type. With red hair and freckles, Rebecca was a couple inches taller.
Amanda and Lizzy were both brunettes and of average height, but Amanda was about fifty pounds overweight while Lizzy appeared nearly anorexic.
Chloe’s body had been discovered late last night by some teens messing around by the river. She was tall, lean, and had short blonde hair.
Like the others, her body had been posed and left in plain sight, waiting to be found. Unlike the others, Chloe’s mother was a United States Congresswoman.
As if we weren’t under enough goddamn pressure already.
“That reporter was right. We’ve got nothing.”
Garrett came up beside him. “You can’t beat yourself up, Alex. Even the FBI is stumped on this one.”
“I don’t give a shit about the feds. This is my city. These are my people.”
“Correction.” His partner turned to face him. “This is our city. Our people. And together, we’re going to catch this son of a bitch.”
With a look of acknowledgement, Alex said, “Question is how many women are going to die like this before we do?” He looked back at the crime scene photos. Their eeriness sent a shiver down his spine. “His timeline is narrowing. He started out killing a month apart, but Lizzy was found less than three weeks after Amanda. A little over two weeks later, he kills Chloe.”
All five women had been positioned in a way they looked almost at peace. Lying on their backs, the killer had propped their heads on either a rock, pile of leaves, or piece of their own clothing. Their hands had been crossed casually at the waist, and their eyes had been closed.
Because they were fully dressed at the time of discovery, the only visible wounds on each of the bodies were the precise incisions the killer had made along the front of their throats.
However, after removing their clothing prior to autopsy, Dr. Veronica Fisher—Cook County’s Chief Medical Examiner—also discovered several deep cuts in other areas of the victims’ bodies. Though
they’d lost a lot of blood from those wounds, the official cause of death listed for each woman was exsanguination due to the severing of the carotid artery.
According to Fisher, the area and manner of these wounds indicated the killer’s desire to cause maximum blood loss without being immediately lethal. The bastard then waited until his victims were on the brink of death before slitting their throats.
Somewhere on the bodies, the killer always left a small, white card with the words ‘Her tortured soul is finally free’ written in black ink. At the bottom, they’d all been signed, ‘The Liberator.’ So far, that tidbit of information had been kept under wraps from the public.
“The profiler the Feds sent over the other day said this guy’s smart,” Alex stated. “So, we need to be smarter.”
Garrett rolled his blue eyes and gave him a ‘No Shit’ expression. “How do we do that?”
“By figuring out how these women are connected. These guys always have a reason for who they choose.” Alex stared at each of the victims’ pictures again. “We just have to figure out what his is.”
“I get that,” he shot back. The man’s impatience was beginning to show. “I’m asking how. Everyone in the unit has gone over these women’s lives, forward and backwards. The FBI did extensive background searches and came up empty.”
“It’s here, Garrett. We just have to keep looking.”
“No offense, man, but I think we’re wasting our time. We need to find another angle to focus on.”
Alex pointed to the board. “This is the only angle we’ve got. So until we come up with why our guy chose them, we don’t have shit.”
“I agree.”
Both men turned their heads toward the door. Standing just inside the small room was Sergeant Murphy.
“We don’t have shit, and neither do the Feds.” Their boss closed the door and stepped further into the room. “That’s why I think we need to try a different approach.”