Sloane Monroe Series Boxed Set (Books 1-3)

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  At some point his fantasies convinced him that we shared the same obsessions.

  “You’re insane if you think any type of love exists between us,” I said.

  His voice elevated.

  “You have a naughty mouth, and you need to get control of what comes out of it or I’ll have to cover it up, and then you won’t be able to talk at all. Don’t you treat me like you don’t want to be here after all I’ve done for us.”

  I wanted to fight, to tell him how much he reviled me—but I knew I’d said too much already.

  “Tell me about my sister,” I said.

  “Now you want to talk about her?”

  “You were the last one to see her alive. When she spoke her last words, only you were there to hear them.”

  “Alright then,” he said.

  There was one thing Sam didn’t know about me. I had small hands and even smaller wrists, and he hadn’t put the cuffs on tight. While he blabbed on, I twisted and turned my wrist. I didn’t care if I broke every bone in my body—one way or another, I would free myself.

  Sam continued, “Your sister, as you know, was the last of my first victims, so she had to be the most beautiful. And she was—spectacular, just like you. I met her at the gas station. She asked if she could bum a cigarette from me. And I told her I didn’t smoke, but I went in the store and bought her a pack, and she was so thrilled she didn’t think twice when I asked her to come over to my car so I could give her a light. You two may look alike, but she didn’t possess half your brain.” He shook his head. “No sir. She pleaded and begged, and even when I cut her, she wouldn’t stop the constant jabbering.”

  I felt my left eye go moist—I wanted to keep control of my emotions, but his callous words were too much.

  “Wow,” he said. “Fascinating. Most girls cry for themselves, for their own lives and they’d do anything to spare it. Not you though. You shed a single tear, and it’s from someone who’s not even alive.”

  “I don’t want to hear anymore.”

  “Even if she mentioned you?”

  “What?”

  “Just before I squeezed her life away she said she was sorry about how things ended when you last talked to each other.” He laughed. “Course she was talking to herself, but even so, I suppose that means something to you.”

  It meant everything. The last time I saw Gabby I was angry with her because she’d decided to marry a man she barely knew. I’d thought about that conversation over and over—if only I could have taken it all back.

  “Why don’t you let the girl in the next room go?” I said. “She doesn’t deserve to be here.”

  “I’m offended by that, Sloane. I got her for you.”

  “I don’t understand?”

  “It took me months to find someone who looked like your best girlfriend…Madison, is it? But finally I did, and now you’ll have no reason to leave. You have me and you have your friend and you’ll stay with me. And we can be together.”

  “It doesn’t work like that,” I said. “This isn’t some silly little game; you can’t keep me here.”

  “Of course I can.”

  “I’m not your mother, Sam. You can’t create a world like this and think it’s perfect and expect me to live in it with you. You can’t keep me here against my will. Nothing you say to me will justify you killing innocent women you son of a bitch!”

  Sam bolted out of the chair and grabbed the framed photographs and threw them into a trash can next to the door. He faced me and balled his hands into fists and whacked both sides of his head with them.

  “I hate you! Do you hear me? I wish you were dead! You were supposed to stay here and be with me and not leave. Why can’t you do that? You don’t care about anyone but yourself. You want to hurt me, and you want to leave me. Why? I did everything for you. I just wanted you to be happy, but you couldn’t be that way with me, and that’s why you went away. You left me.”

  He wasn’t talking to me now. He was talking through me. He’d tapped into all his suppressed emotions and channeled his mother.

  Sam crunched his fingers inward and reached for my neck. I broke free of the cuff and swung at his head as hard as I could. He flew backward and crashed into the wall. I ran out of the room and into the next and slammed and locked the door behind me. Angela lay still on the bed. Tears stained her cheeks. At least fifteen rows of gashes lined her legs which made me wonder how long he’d kept her. I removed the blindfold, but I couldn’t free her from the cuffs on her wrists and ankles.

  When I looked into her eyes they reminded me of an animal who’d been severely beaten.

  “Hang on, Angela. I’m going to get us both out of here.”

  “How?” she said.

  Sam pounded on the outside of the door.

  “You have no place to go, Sloane. Stay in there as long as you want. I’ll be here when you come out.”

  “I’m scared,” Angela said.

  I searched the room.

  “I need you to focus for me, okay? When he was in here with you, did you hear anything like where he might have got the knife he used or any other tools he kept in this room?”

  The only noise I heard was the sound of her cries.

  “Angela! Do you want to get out of here or not?” I said.

  “There’s a drawer.”

  “That’s good,” I said.

  I looked around and didn’t see it.

  “Where is it?”

  “Under my bed.”

  I got down on all fours and looked but it was too dark. I took my hand and stretched it out as far as it would go and then I felt something. I pulled out two boxes. One contained several knifes in different shapes and sizes and in the other was one item: my gun. I checked it. Still loaded.

  I looked at Angela, “Be right back.”

  I turned the knob on the door and peered out with my gun aimed and ready. But I wasn’t the only one. Sam lunged at me, knife in hand and slashed my arm. Blood sprayed out, and my gun crashed to the floor. Sam went for it, but I was ahead of him. I kicked his legs out from under him, and he tumbled and fell. I recovered my gun and pressed it against his chest.

  “Go ahead, do it,” he said. “It’s what you want to do. It’s what you’ve always wanted to do. I see that now.”

  I wanted to fire my gun into his heartless body until no bullets remained—the time had come, I had my one wish in life. Sinnerman on the ground with me at the helm. Part of me wanted to squeeze the trigger, but instead I took my free hand and yanked the cuffs from my pocket.

  “Put them on,” I said.

  He stared at me, speechless.

  “Do it!” I said.

  He cinched them around his wrists, and I made a fist and hit him with everything I had inside me, again and again. Three years of fury expelled from my body. I released all of my pent up emotions on him and let the tears run free.

  Blood oozed from Sam’s face and covered my hands until they were sheathed in red. A hand touched my shoulder and I swung around.

  “That’s enough, cara mia.”

  I looked up into familiar dark eyes.

  “How did you find—”

  “GPS sensor under your car.”

  I looked down at Sam and aimed my gun at his heart. His body was still and lifeless.

  “I need to do this, Giovanni. He has to pay.”

  He shook his head and in a gentle manner reached for my hands and wiped some of the blood off with his sleeve.

  “You found him just like you wanted. Killing him won’t make you feel any better. Trust me.”

  I nodded.

  “There’s another girl here. I need to help her.”

  “Go take care of her,” he said. “I’ll stay with him.”

  I walked toward Angela’s room. Sam raised his head off the ground and muttered, “Sloane, don’t leave me.”

  Giovanni replied, “Looks like I just got her back. Deal with it.”

  And then two shots fired, but I didn’t turn around. I didn’
t have to; I knew it was all over.

  CHAPTER 55

  “Talk about your knight in shining armor,” Maddie said, with a wink.

  “I guess so. But it’s over now. He’s done his good deed for me and now he can go back to his life.”

  “That’s what you want?”

  “Maybe it’s what he wants.”

  “He’s smitten. Why would he want to leave now?”

  “It’s hard to say where we’ll go from here,” I said. I’m not even sure how to go about it.”

  We embraced and I stepped on the plane.

  “Take good care of Boo for me,” I said. “See you both tomorrow.”

  Maddie took Lord Berkeley’s paw and waved it up and down in the air. “Say goodbye to your mommy. Time for us two to have some fun.”

  ***

  The warm breeze of Baltimore, Maryland drifted across my face like a blanket just out of the dryer as I descended the stairs of Giovanni’s private jet. It felt good to be free of bodyguards, Nick, and the plague Sinnerman inflicted on me over the past few years of my life. It felt like I’d carried the weight of many lives around, and now I was so light I needed to brace myself against something so I didn’t get swept away into the air.

  I rented a car and used my cell phone to map my location. Twenty-three miles later I arrived at my destination and parked in front of a powder blue single-wide trailer with what used to be white trim. Now it held a kind of brownish hue. The trailer looked like it had been moved more than its share of times in its lifetime.

  The door was the color of a fire engine, except duller, and on one of the single-pane windows in the front someone had taken their finger and scratched the word “hi” in the caked up layer of dust. Grass had been planted in the yard at one time but had long since gone, leaving small patches of yellow about the size of a plate in its wake. A single car was parked out front; a purple Saturn sedan circa 1993 or so.

  I ascended the two-by-four wood-planked stairs and knocked.

  A woman with a face that resembled the back of my elbows answered the door in a tattered peach robe and long, stringy hair that practically reached out and begged me for a V05 hot oil treatment. The distinct smell of gin floated by and was absorbed into the atmosphere.

  “Can’t you read?” she said and pointed to the sign that was hot glued to the door. “No solicitors. That means you, missy.”

  I spread out my fingers.

  “Do you see me carrying anything?”

  “Well, no.”

  “What does that tell you then?” I said.

  “You’ve got a sharp tongue, anyone ever tell you that?”

  “Can we skip the small talk and get to why I’m here?” I said.

  “Patience isn’t your strong suit, I guess.”

  Not even one minute with the woman and I already wanted to wring her neck.

  “Do you have a son named Sam—I mean, Samuel Reids?”

  She looked like the ghost of her dearly departed grandmother had just appeared before her and said “BOO”.

  “Has something happened—is he dead? Did he leave money for me in his will? I just knew that boy would grow up and still find a way to care for his mama.”

  She spread the door all the way open, smiled and said, “Won’t you please come in?”

  Under any other circumstances I would have protested based on the smell alone, but I’d come too far to turn back.

  She reached down and picked up a variety of plates, silverware and other items on the sofa. “Sit, sit,” she said.

  “I’m not here about his will.”

  She scrunched up her face and frowned and said, “Oh, hmm. He hasn’t gone and gotten you pregnant has he, because if you all need a place to stay, it’s not here. There’s no room at the inn.”

  A man emerged from the hallway wearing a stained yellow shirt. His legs were almost all the way exposed except for a pair of boxer shorts, and his hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed for days. He passed by Laurel who stood next to the bar in the kitchen and smacked her on the ass.

  “Why would he ever want anything from you after what you put him through?” I said.

  She flashed me a dirty look and said, “You did not just say that to me.”

  “Who you talkin’ about?” the man said.

  “Leave it alone, Larry,” Laurel said.

  On a scale of one to leave it alone, I wasn’t about to let it go.

  “I flew here to talk about your son, and no I’m not pregnant with his child, and he doesn’t need a place to live. He has one: permanent residence at the Park City cemetery.”

  “My son’s where? What—”

  Larry looked at Laurel and said, “You have a kid?”

  Laurel turned to him.

  “Yes…I mean no, I mean—I used to.”

  “How in the hell do you used to have a kid?”

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “I don’t think nuthin’. I’m outta here,” he said. He walked out the door, got into the Saturn, and left.

  “Guess he’s not going to get dressed first,” I said.

  Laurel turned toward me.

  “You’re ruining my life, just leave—please!”

  I shook my head and laughed.

  “It’s still all about you, isn’t it? After all these years. You just don’t get it. You sit here in your piece of shit trailer and don’t even have a clue what you’ve missed out on.”

  “I’ve lived a full life.”

  “Do you even care what your son did?”

  “Should I?”

  “Ever hear about the Sinnerman murders?” I said.

  She tilted her head to the side like she was in deep thought, which seemed like a stretch.

  “Seems like I did hear something about that a few years ago. Happened in Park City, right?”

  “In your son’s house, actually.”

  “I can’t believe he’d ever live with anyone capable of committing murder.”

  “He didn’t,” I said.

  “Well then…”

  I gave it a moment to let it sink in and then another until it got to the point that I was going to have to get a chalkboard out and draw a diagram for her. I spoke in a slow and distinct manner. “Your son is the Sinnerman killer. He murdered many women, including my sister. And now he’s paid with his own life.”

  “But how—”

  I shook my head.

  “Right now I talk and you listen.”

  Her jaw popped open like no one had ever spoken to her that way before. Maybe if they had, she wouldn’t have turned out to be such a waste.

  “When your son was just a boy, you knew he had problems. Maybe a little anger inside, maybe he didn’t develop the same as the other kids, but something was different. And you chose to turn your back on him. I’m here to tell you what happened after that,” I said. “His own father couldn’t look at him without thinking of you, so he sent him away to school, and then when he was a teenager, he kicked him out and left him on his own to fend for himself. At some point he fantasized about killing women and then one day he did. And do you want to know who those women looked like? You.”

  I stood up and walked to the door and opened it. “You’re a horrid wretch of a woman, and I just wanted to come here and say that to your face.”

  CHAPTER 56

  It felt good to touch down in Salt Lake City. I was home, and my life had taken on new meaning. I didn’t know the course my new life would take, but I knew one thing: I would always take the time to appreciate the people in my life, and I’d spend the rest of it living for me and partaking in all that life had to offer. That’s what Gabby would have wanted.

  When the door to the plane opened I was greeted by Maddie, Giovanni, and an exuberant Lord Berkeley who scraped at my ankles until I bent down and lifted him up. Maddie opened the car door and pulled out a drink which she offered me.

  “What’s the occasion?” I said.

  “You are.”

  I sniffed t
he glass.

  “This is exactly what I need right now.”

  “Only the best for my best pal. And besides, I know it’s your favorite.”

  Maddie and Giovanni exchanged glances.

  “What’s going on with you two?” I said.

  She reached out her hands and snatched Lord Berkeley from me and then turned and took him to the car. She reemerged with a suitcase.

  “Uh, Maddie,” I said. “What’s this?”

  “Giovanni called me yesterday and asked how I felt about him borrowing my friend for a few days,” Maddie said.

  “You’re kidding me right?” I said.

  “Have you ever been to Italy?” he said.

  “I don’t know what to say, I mean—I just got here,” I said.

  “Say yes, ya dingbat,” Maddie said.

  “Alright, yes.”

  A man came around the side and loaded my bag onto the plane.

  “Well,” Maddie said, “me and the Boo-ster here are off to get some dog treats. You guys have a good time, and buy me something good!”

  Once she was gone and we were surrounded on all sides with hazel blue skies, Giovanni reached over and pulled me into him and said, “I’ve wanted to do this since the moment we met.” This time when my eyes closed and he leaned in, our lips found a connection. It was like being kissed for the first time. And yes, it was first-prize-at-the-fair good.

  ***

  It’s been twenty years since PI Sloane Monroe has returned to her hometown of Tehachapi, California, but when a former classmate is stabbed and tossed overboard during the high school reunion cruise, Sloane isn’t about to allow a murderer to run free in her own backyard. But in a town where everyone is harboring secrets, how many more men will die before she discovers the truth?

  CHAPTER 1

  Doug Ward stood on the ship’s deck and gazed across the calm waves of an evening sea. The cool ocean breeze brushed past his face and clung to it like little particles of mist, but he didn’t seem to notice. The scotch in his hand was his fifth of the night, or the sixth or seventh—he couldn’t remember. Most nights he drank until he passed out, and tonight would be no exception. He’d drink himself into oblivion if it meant never hearing another one of his classmates sing the karaoke version of M.C. Hammer’s “U Can’t Touch This.”