Debra Webb's Blog, page 14

Interview with a Serial Killer–Meet Eric Spears

RAGE, book four in the Faces of Evil series, is in bookstores everywhere right now! Be sure to tell all your friends! Get your copy this weekend before they’re all gone!

The Faces of Evil series is very close to my heart. I wanted to write this series for a very long time. Book five, REVENGE, and six, RUTHLESS, will be out this summer. Don’t worry, there will be six more after that! I cannot wait to share those stories with you!

As I developed this series, it was, of course, very important to create compelling main characters like Jess Harris and Dan Burnett. They both captured my heart very quickly. However, equally important to suspense and thriller stories are the villains. What good is a hero without a worthy opponent? That’s when Eric Spears showed up in my office demanding his role.

As Jess Harris will tell you, evil comes in all shapes and sizes. You have sociopaths like Eric Spears who rank at the very highest level of the evil scale—tormenters. His singular motive is pleasure. The only way he can feel it is to torture his victims in the most depraved ways. He feeds on the fear. The murder itself is actually secondary. It’s all about the pain he can inflict before he takes their lives.

Eric Spears, AKA the Player, is forty years old. He grew up in southern California. No siblings or extended family. His parents died when he was in his mid-twenties. He rose to wealth through his software business, SpearNet. By the time he was thirty he owned the world of security software. He is brilliant, handsome and charming. Unfortunately he lacks a sense of moral responsibility or a social conscience. The Player’s contempt for women shows in his work when it comes to his victims. In Jess’s profile of Spears, with his professional challenge conquered and with no wife or kids to distract him, she surmised that he’d found a new hobby to assuage the evil urges pulsing beneath his seemingly normal surface.

I shiver each time I think of just how evil Eric Spears really is and, yet, he has agreed to be here today and take your questions. So, fire away…but remember, this man is pure evil and showing up at your door is not outside the realm of possibility.

Enjoy your weekend! And don’t forget to grab your copy of RAGE!

Deb

One Last Peek at RAGE and Welcome Medical Examiner Dr. Sylvia Baron!

It’s hard to believe April is almost over! On Tuesday RAGE, book four in the Faces of Evil series, hits the shelves! Be sure to tell all your friends! Let’s move on to this week’s final peek at RAGE and then I’ll introduce Dr. Sylvia Baron!

RAGE

By Debra Webb

CHAPTER FOUR 

 

Jefferson County Coroner’s Office, Cooper Green Hospital, 2:45 p.m.

Dr. Sylvia Baron waited next to the stainless-steel table where the body, along with the detached head, of Gabrielle Grayson waited for the next step in the final act of her time on this earth. Jess hoped the wounds that told the story of her horrifying death would guide them to some answers about her killer or his motive.

Dr. Martin Leeds stood beside his protégée like a beaming father about to introduce his one and only debutante to society.

Weird. Just weird. Why would the ex-wife of the victim’s husband want anything to do with this? Was she that elated over the woman’s death? Had the two been friends? Seemed a stretch considering the victim stole her husband.

Sergeant Harper waited next to Jess. She’d called him en route and asked him to meet her here. Two sets of eyes and ears were always better than one. On the way in they had talked about how odd this particular aspect of the situation was. Jess opted not to mention the awkward moments in the elevator when she’d smiled and informed both Wesley and Burnett that she would catch up with them later. She’d left them in BPD’s lobby with the suggestion that they have lunch together. Just because she couldn’t join them was no reason the two shouldn’t get to know each other better.

Now that was weird.

Jess wished she could be a fly on the table wherever Burnett and Wesley ended up sharing a meal, assuming they took her advice. As far as she was concerned, about the only difference between that scenario and this one with Sylvia and Gabrielle was that both men were still breathing. Maybe that fact made the situation even stranger.

Maybe she and the snobbish Dr. Baron had more in common than either one would want to admit. The primary example was the nontraditional track they had both taken. Here they were in their forties with no husbands and no babies. Not to mention some sort of abnormal connection with an ex.

“Due to the sensitive nature of this case, we’re giving Mrs. Grayson top priority,” Leeds announced, kicking things off and promptly evicting from Jess’s head thoughts of her two exes and her life’s wonky pattern. “I’ll be performing the autopsy at eight tomorrow morning. Based on our preliminary examination we, Dr. Baron and I, concur that the manner of death was, of course, homicide, and the most probable cause of death appears to be manual asphyxiation.”

Like a well-choreographed dance routine, Baron stepped in next. “Note the slight bulging of the eyes and the petechial hemorrhaging.” She gestured, Vanna White style, with a gloved hand. “The lips are swollen and we found traces of blood in the mouth and nostrils, despite the absence of tissue injury in those areas. Based on that evidence, we anticipate that when we have a look at the lungs in the autopsy, we’ll find them gorged with blood and darker in color, confirming the assessment of manual asphyxiation.”

Jess was impressed. She hadn’t expected such a thorough call this quickly. “That certainly adds a new twist to our investigation.” It definitely pushed Gabrielle’s murder even farther from the possibility of being related to the Lopez war. Jess felt confident there was no connection whatsoever. Yet someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make it look related. A distraction. A cunning killer worked extra hard to throw an investigation off his trail.

“We will notify you as soon as the final report is available,” Leeds assured Jess. “For now that’s the best we can give you.”

That was actually more than she had expected this early in the process.

“I appreciate your assistance in our efforts to move swiftly on this one,” Jess said to Leeds. She acknowledged his colleague with a nod. “As you say, due to the sensitive nature of the case, time is more of an enemy than ever. The media will pounce on the idea that if the police can’t protect their own who can they protect? We don’t need another reason for folks to take the Stand Your Ground law the wrong way.” God knew national headlines had shown the bad end that resulted far too often from that misguided choice.

“Chief Burnett conveyed that sentiment earlier today,” Leeds said. “Unfortunately, some of the toxicology can’t be rushed and will require time, which will, in turn, delay issuing the official final report.” He held up both gloved hands to halt the protest she’d started to launch. “But we’ll do everything possible to have a preliminary report on our physical examination findings late tomorrow.”

“I can’t ask for more than that.” Jess felt relieved. She hadn’t expected this level of cooperation after last week’s Chandler case and the head butting between her and Deputy Chief Black. With Black’s seniority in the department, the coroner’s office had leaned in his direction when it came to choosing sides.

Sylvia Baron peeled off her gloves. “Since I intercepted you on your way to lunch, Chief Harris, why don’t I make it up to you by taking you to my favorite sandwich shop down the street?” She produced a credible smile. “I’m certain you’re as famished as I am.”

Under the circumstances Jess wasn’t sure her appetite would return anytime today and she did have that briefing with Burnett at five thirty. She shouldn’t take the time…Burnett hated waiting as badly as she did. But she couldn’t resist the opportunity to learn why Baron had barged her way into this case. “You have a deal, Dr. Baron.” Jess turned to Harper. “Sergeant, why don’t you carry on and I’ll meet you back at the office at five or so.”

Harper gave her a nod. He’d been on his way to talk to his gang contacts when she’d diverted him here.

Before he could be on his way, Jess snagged him by the sleeve of his jacket. “And, Sergeant, don’t forget what we talked about.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Daniel Burnett was Birmingham’s chief of police but he had no business checking up on her via her detectives. She’d warned him about that already. Since giving Burnett what for hadn’t done any good, she’d spoken to both Lori and Harper about her feelings on the situation. She made a mental note to ensure Officer Cook got the same lecture. She had her own way of doing things. Having Burnett all up in her business cramped her style.

Jess tucked her glasses into her bag as she followed Dr. Baron to her office. The room was smaller than she’d expected. Seemed to Jess it should have been considerably larger to house such an enormous ego.

Small or not, the lady had her prestigious diplomas and awards adorning the walls. Each was framed in rich wood and surrounded by regal matting. Her desk sported a nameplate, a crystal vase with a single long-stemmed white rose, and the surface was totally free of any clutter whatsoever. Reminded Jess of Burnett’s desk. Maybe they taught neatness skills at that fancy private school he and all his pals had attended.

Jess sure never got classes like that at her school. Not that she would have paid attention anyway. Her sister had always been the studious one.

The doctor’s wall of pride had Jess wondering why a woman of such means would go into the business of dissecting the dead. Jess spent most of her time studying the dead as well, but that was different. Since she had never been rich or the daughter of a senator her options had been somewhat limited.

Dr. Baron removed her lab coat and turned to Jess as if she’d read her mind and realized her mistake. “I don’t actually have time for lunch, Harris. I wanted a moment of your time in private.”

Well, well. Seemed Jess wasn’t the only one who had a nosy boss.

“And here we are.” She propped a smile in place. “What’s on your mind?” So much for lunch. Or manners, for that matter. The doctor couldn’t have talked and eaten at the same time?

“Yesterday Gabrielle Grayson called me.”

Now there was a revelation Jess hadn’t expected. “Were the two of you friends?”

Baron laughed. “Hardly. I hadn’t spoken to her since the day she tried to apologize for fucking my husband.”

There was that. “If you hadn’t spoken in all that time, what was her reason for suddenly calling you, after what”—Jess shrugged—“two years?”

Baron leaned against her desk and crossed her arms over her chest. “I made it a point not to get to know anything about the other woman. For the first year or so I hated her. Then I decided she wasn’t worth the emotional expenditure. I put it behind me and moved on.”

“Ten years was quite an investment to just put behind you,” Jess countered. Sylvia Baron and the lieutenant had been married for a whole decade. Seemed to Jess that would be about like her trying to pretend the relationship she and Burnett had shared was dead and buried.

“Touché, Chief,” Ms. Hoity-Toity confessed rather than going off on Jess as she’d expected. “It wasn’t exactly the easiest thing I’ve ever done but I managed.”

“Have you spoken to your ex-husband since the divorce?”

“Not once.” She laughed, the sound deep and rich yet tinged with a hint of self-deprecation. “That’s what lawyers are for.”

“You were saying that Gabrielle called you yesterday.” They’d gone off course there for a moment.

“She did. I was frankly”—she turned her palms up—“stunned when she identified herself. I almost hung up on her.” Baron shook her head. “But there was something in her voice.” She paused, appeared thoughtful. “Gabrielle was worried. Afraid even. Whatever it was about, it involved Larry and she wanted to talk to me. I think you’ll agree that for her to take that step required considerable desperation and no small amount of courage.”

Certainly explained why the associate coroner had insisted on showing up at the scene. “I take it you didn’t learn what it was.”

“She wanted to meet and talk last night. She said she couldn’t discuss it over the phone and since Larry was working it would be a good time, but I had other plans and…” Baron looked straight at Jess, defeat in her eyes. “That’s not true. I didn’t have any plans. I didn’t want to see her.” She looked away then. “Really, how was I supposed to react to that kind of abrupt call? I needed time to come to terms with her request so I put her off until lunch today.” She lifted her chin higher as if in defiance of the guilt she clearly felt. “I wasn’t going to jump just because she called.”

So much for having moved on. “But you sensed that she was worried and afraid and it was related to her husband?”

“Gabrielle said as much.” Her shoulders sagged. “And now she’s dead.”

Jess reminded herself to choose her words carefully, but that just never worked for her. “You said you’d moved on but two years is hardly any time at all on the cheating-spouse scale. You surely understand that it’s necessary for me to determine whether you’re passing along this information out of concern or as some sort of payback against your ex-husband.”

Sylvia started to object but Jess held up a hand so she could say the rest. “You also stated that you haven’t spoken to your ex-husband in all this time. It’s quite convenient that the day after his wife is murdered you announce that she called you about a possible problem with him. I’m not accusing you of misstating the truth, Dr. Baron,” Jess pointed out, “however, I do need you to see this the way others will. Before I go forward with this information, is there anything at all you’d like to revise about what you’ve just told me?”

The other woman stood. She adopted that arrogant posture she pulled off so well and leveled a challenging gaze on Jess. “Before you waste time trying to round up a bevy of suspects from gangland, I would urge you to take a long hard look at Lieutenant Lawrence Grayson. His wife was worried and it was about him and now she’s dead. That’s all I have to say.”

“Count on it,” Jess assured her. “Thank you for your time, Doctor.”

As Jess made her way back to the lobby, she put a call through to Lori. She’d already waylaid Harper once, so this time she’d snag Lori. Not that she felt she needed someone with her at all times as Burnett had suggested. No, sir. What she needed was that second pair of eyes again. A trip back to the crime scene without all the distractions of evidence techs and concerned cops was in order.

She needed more of the story only the scene could give her. As soon as the techs had done their final sweep, cleaners—whether professionals or friends—would wash away all traces of the unspeakable act that had taken place in the Grayson home.

One more good review was essential before that happened.

Same friends—all cops, by the way.

Especially if that killer was a cop.

In the parking lot Jess climbed into the Taurus and jammed the key into the ignition. What she needed was a list of all who kept up with Lieutenant Grayson’s activities, friends, coworkers. She twisted the key. Nothing happened.

Jess glared at the dash. “What in the world?” She tried to start the vehicle again.

Nothing. Not even a click, click, click. Dash didn’t light up. Radio didn’t work. Dead battery.

“For the love of…” She snatched up her cell and called Lori again. “Can you pick me up? This stupid car is dead.”

“Heading your way now,” Lori assured her.

Jess tossed her phone into her bag. “Damn it.” She hated wasting time.

The idea that Gabrielle’s killer had waited so long to stage the body with all those stab wounds and the decapitation filtered into Jess’s thoughts. What had the killer been doing all that time? Why the backtracking? Jess at first thought the killer had methodically staged the scene to appear as if the crime was just another gang hit.

But she had been wrong.

There was just one way to try and disguise manual asphyxiation—a botched beheading job. The killer had been forced to step back and change his strategy. To stage a distraction.

And that meant just one thing, in Jess’s opinion. The murder hadn’t been planned. Whoever showed up at the Grayson home had come with another agenda that had evolved into murder.

Someone Gabrielle Grayson knew and maybe even trusted.

And that trust had cost the poor woman her life.

Shady Creek Drive, 4:05 p.m.

The officer left in charge of the crime scene’s security unlocked the Grayson home for Jess and Lori. He reported that a second team of evidence techs had come and gone. No one wanted to miss a single spec of evidence on this one.

After donning shoe covers and gloves, Jess spent the first half hour on scene going through the master bedroom. Lori reviewed the mail and any other papers scattered around the house. Jess had summoned Officer Cook to join them. She’d tasked him with sifting through the files in the small home office. Most appeared to be the usual receipts, tax and medical records, but Jess wanted to be sure.

As she had noted that morning, the house was clean and well organized. The bed in the master bedroom was unmade. Gabrielle had apparently already been in bed when the perpetrator either knocked on the door or forced his way inside through the sliding glass doors. It appeared she had received no phone calls on the home’s landline or her cell after seven forty-five last night when her husband called to say he was stopping by to tuck in their son. Since calls could be erased from caller ID lists the records for both lines had been ordered.

It could prove useful to see who else Gabrielle had called yesterday. If she had another friend with whom she might have talked about her concerns regarding her husband, Jess needed to know ASAP. And if she had in fact called Sylvia Baron, Jess wanted that confirmation before she questioned the husband again.

Why would Gabrielle have called the ex-wife? Didn’t make sense. Jess moved on to the baby’s room. Smelled like powders and lotion. The scents caused a little cramp in her chest. There was a good possibility she would never have children. Not that she actually wanted any. Her work was too demanding. Besides, she had no mothering instincts. None. No child deserved that.

The sensation in her chest was probably an allergy to the powders.

Dismissing the foolish thoughts, she crossed to the crib and touched the stuffed bear that lay tangled with a blue blanket. An empty bottle had been cast aside. The blinds on the window over the crib were closed. Hand-painted ABCs in vivid colors adorned the sunny yellow walls. It was a damned shame this little boy would have to grow up without his mother. Thank God the killer hadn’t come in here.

Or had he? Jess considered the length of time the perpetrator had been in the house. He’d showered. The evidence techs had confirmed there were traces of blood in the drain. No prints on the shampoo bottle, not even the vic’s, which likely meant it had been wiped. The bathroom was right across the hall from the baby’s room. If a light was turned on or noises made, the baby might have awakened.

Jess stared at the empty bottle in the crib and a new theory jumped ahead of all the others. “It’s possible,” she considered as she reached for the bottle. Grasping the nipple between her thumb and forefinger she went in search of an evidence bag. She carried necessary stuff like that in her car but her car hadn’t been returned to her just yet.

In the hall that separated the bedrooms, she called out, “Officer Cook!”

Cook popped out of the home office. “Yes, ma’am?”

“I need an evidence bag.”

He looked from Jess to the bottle and back. “I’ll grab one from my car.”

Jess followed the path Cook had taken, down the few steps that led to the main living area of the house, to wait in the entry hall. Lori joined her there. “You find anything interesting?” Jess asked hopefully.

“Nothing but the usual bills and to-do lists.” Lori sent a skeptical look at the bottle. “You discover something in the kid’s room?”

“It occurred to me that if the perp was in the house for a while the baby might have awakened and started to cry. Most everyone, even me, knows the fastest way to stop a baby from crying is to give it a bottle.”

“Very good.” Lori grinned. “I think you know more about this baby business than you let on.”

“Yeah, right,” Jess muttered. Thankfully Cook reappeared with an evidence bag, banishing that touchy subject. Jess dropped the bottle inside. “I’d like you to run that to the lab, please. Detective Wells and I will finish up here.”

“I completed reviewing the last of the files in the office, ma’am.” He shook his head. “Didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. Receipts. Copies of tax documents and insurance policies—I didn’t find one on the victim but there are several on the lieutenant.”

Jess hadn’t anticipated that an insurance payoff was the motive for this murder. The family’s finances were better than average and the heavy-duty death benefits all leaned in Gabrielle’s favor. Sometimes though, at this stage, it was difficult to tell what was ordinary and what was not. A thorough review was the best they could do. Better to be prepared than scrambling for answers later.

“I guess you can call it a day after you make that delivery for me.” She beamed him a smile of appreciation.

“Yes, ma’am.”

When he’d gone, Jess turned to Lori. “Let’s have another look in the family room.”

“Officer Tierney, the uniform outside, said someone would be here to board up the slider before dark.” Lori headed in the direction of the family room. “I suppose a cleanup detail will show up by tomorrow.”

“Probably so.” As important as it was to keep a crime scene untouched as long as possible, it was also imperative to ensure it was secure. At this point they had likely found all they were going to. No need to drag out the nightmare these images resurrected.

In the family room the television had been turned off. Other than the removal of the body, nothing else had been touched by anyone other than evidence techs—at least not once Jess had arrived on the scene.

Beyond the evidence that a heinous crime had taken place here, the home gave all the earmarks of a loving, normal family. Framed photos of happy times served as reminders most everywhere one looked. In this morning’s interview Lawrence Grayson had appeared every bit the devastated and grieving husband.

Still, Sylvia Baron’s revelation nagged at Jess. Having been a cop for so many years made Grayson very good at presenting himself in whatever way he chose. Detectives often had to be actors, confidants, and straight-up liars.

It was the nature of the beast.

Jess moved around the room and studied the words written in Gabrielle Grayson’s blood. If this murder, as she suspected, was not related to the war between Lopez’s former followers and the Black Brotherhood—the group that had claimed responsibility for blowing up one of Lopez’s hangouts—the perp was obviously attempting to make it appear so. There was nothing here in terms of crime scene similarities that hadn’t been released by the media in last night’s late-breaking news except the reference to pigs and pig whore.

In the dealings she’d had with Lopez’s people they had used plenty of unflattering references to the police but not once had she heard them use pig. Like Harper, she had noticed the mentions of TV specials focused on the anniversary of the Manson murders. Maybe that buzz had resurrected the term pig.

Jess couldn’t think of Charles Manson without thinking of drugs. Nothing but Tylenol and Aleve in this house. If either of the Graysons used drugs they kept all signs out of their home. Every little thing was in its place and immaculate.

Her gaze drifted down to the family room’s tile floor. Except for the blood.

Why had the perpetrator brought her in here to butcher her body? Had Gabrielle already been in this room? But she was wearing her nightgown and the bed covers were tousled as if she’d gotten out of bed.

“Why did you come in here, Gabrielle?” To have coffee, tea, or wine with a friend? To discuss whatever was bothering you about your husband?

Jess surveyed the room again, more slowly this time. “Did you have unexpected company?” Two coasters, the cork kind, sat on the coffee table between the two sofas. Four others were stacked neatly in the center of the table.

“Detective Wells, how about checking the dishwasher for glasses or cups. Maybe Gabrielle had a visitor, other than her husband, last night.” The visitor may have been a neighbor, but then again it could have been their perpetrator. Or Dr. Sylvia Baron.

“Dishwasher’s empty. The entire kitchen is spotless.” Lori made a face that reflected her frustration. “It’s almost like the place was thoroughly cleaned except for the blood and glass in this room.”

The idea wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. “Check the coffeemaker, too,” Jess suggested. “If she had a visitor after the lieutenant had come and gone, she may have made coffee for her unexpected company.”

“Or opened a bottle of wine,” Lori suggested. “I’ll check the trash again as well.”

Having two detectives who understood exactly where she was going with a theory without her having to explain still amazed Jess. Usually it took months, at least, to develop this kind of working relationship.

While Lori went off to check the kitchen, Jess crouched down next to where Gabrielle’s body had been discovered. Judging by the saw’s castoff, the perp had been right-handed and had knelt on the victim’s left side. Jess got into position. She looked left at the door leading back to the kitchen and the rest of the house. Then she looked right and considered the backyard and pool beyond the disabled doors.

“Why right here in front of the doors where someone might see?”

It had stormed last night but there hadn’t been any reports of power outages.

Maybe the perp had positioned the body and then turned out the lights to do his dirty work. Nothing to fear from the dark. Maybe the darkness had caused him to have to start over a couple of times with his saw. Cutting off a head wasn’t as easy as one might think. Then again, more likely he’d been attempting to disguise the way he’d strangled her.

Had he brought the saw he used or gotten it from the garage? Jess’s money was on the garage. A good question for Grayson. She was well on her way to being utterly convinced that the killer had done all this to cover up what he had done and that there hadn’t really been a plan.

Still. Why here? In this room? Maybe the perp thought the tile floor would help with skewing the time of death. With the frosty temperature, the tile floor would have been damned cold. Like lying on a refrigerated slab. Had that been the point? To skew time of death?

Jess pushed to her feet and walked around the glass to go out the damaged door. And if the perp was someone the vic knew, why break the door? Though the set of sliding doors were old, the glass was still a safety type that was much harder to break and crumbled rather than shattered. It would have been easier to break a window. Had that move been yet another to throw off the investigation? And how did the perp break the door? The impact had come from outside, sending the glass inward.

Jess looked around the patio, her attention settling on the wrought-iron table and four chairs. She lifted one of the chairs. Definitely heavy enough to do the job. The set was old. A little chipped paint and rust here and there.

According to the initial report from the first officer on the scene, Grayson had stopped by only long enough to kiss his wife and baby good night. He hadn’t stayed for coffee or anything else and all had seemed fine.

But someone had been here. Whether a stranger or a friend, someone had come into this house and murdered a mother while her child slept in his crib.

Outside, even as the sun descended lower and lower behind the trees, the heat was suffocating. Last night had been hot like this. The rain torrential. Thunder and lightning like a fireworks display in the black sky.

Jess turned back to look at the broken door she’d exited. Even with the lights out, the flashes of lightning would have provided an occasional view of the murder scene. Several minutes had been required to do the job. Several streaks of lightning to spotlight the gruesome work.

The dog-eared wood fence provided some amount of privacy from a ground-level view, but it had seen better days. Jess’s gaze moved to the second floor of the neighboring home. “Except from right there.” The windows provided a bird’s-eye view like a box seat at a stadium.

Only the neighboring two-story was run down. Probably abandoned, Harper had said. A foreclosure maybe. God knew there were plenty of those around, even in the better neighborhoods. When the neighbors had been canvassed today, not once but twice, there had been no answer at the home. Which was not surprising, since the utility meter had been pulled.

That someone actually did live there and might have witnessed the murder was wishful thinking.

The knowledge that the house was abandoned could have been the reason the killer hadn’t worried about anyone seeing him. He knew no one would be home. Just another reason to believe Gabrielle knew her killer.

Jess lifted her gaze once more to those second-story windows. A face appeared beyond the glass. Her breath stalled. She blinked. Stared harder. Was that a…child?

The face vanished as abruptly as it appeared. Someone did live there, or at least was in there now. Right now. Whoever it was she definitely wanted to talk to them.

There was no gate to exit the backyard. Her heart pumping in anticipation, she eased back through the shattered door, moved carefully around the blood and glass, and flat-out ran for the front door—at least as fast as she could run in heels and shoe covers.

“We going somewhere?” Lori intercepted her in the kitchen.

“There’s someone in the house across the backyard.” When Lori didn’t look as though she understood, Jess added, “The one with the windows that overlook the pool.” She hitched her head in the direction from which she’d come. “When the neighbors were canvassed this morning that was the one no-answer with the pulled utility meter.”

“I thought the house was empty,” Lori said, joining Jess’s rush to the entry hall.

“That’s what we all thought.”

Outside the front door, they tore off the gloves and shoe covers. “We’ll be right back,” Jess assured the officer guarding the scene. Since the Grayson house was the next to the last on the block, it took only a minute to go around to the street running parallel behind it.

“There’s a green minivan in the drive,” Lori said, spotting the vehicle a split second before Jess.

The minivan was a Ford and looked to be as used up as the house it sat beside. The gutters of the house sagged from last night’s rains and months of neglect. A pile of rolled up newspapers lay disintegrating in the overgrown grass.

They took the few steps up to a small stoop, where Lori rapped at the door and Jess struggled with the urge to kick it in. She needed to talk to whoever was here. She needed to talk to them now.

“Pretty quiet in there,” Jess noted, her nerves jangling. “But I saw someone in the window. A child, I think. Whoever it was, they’re in there.” Surely they hadn’t gotten away so quickly.

Lori rapped again. “We’ll just keep knocking until they invite us in.”

Jess swiped the back of her hand over her damp forehead. Damn it was hot. “Just breathing is exhausting in this heat.”

“Give it a week or two,” Lori promised. “You’ll be wishing for these temps again.”

Jess could feel her clothes wilting to her skin. “God, I’d forgotten how hot it gets down here in the summer.”

“And we’ve got at least six more weeks of this to come.” Lori pounded on the door a little louder, then rubbed her knuckles. “If they didn’t hear that they’re either deaf or dead.”

“Or gone already.” Jess fanned herself. She hoped like hell they weren’t too late.

 

I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter in RAGE! Don’t forget the new Street Team challenge begins on Tuesday! Get the word out that RAGE is on the shelves! Tell everyone! And don’t forget to let me know where you’re posting and what you’re doing to promote RAGE. Not only will I be giving away those great gift cards again, this time one winner will be chosen to be a character in book 12! That winner will receive 12 autographed copies of the book to give friends. That winner gets to choose whether he or she wants to be a good character or an evil one. Work hard, team! I’m counting on you!

But now, let me introduce Dr. Sylvia Baron! Dr. Baron is Jefferson County’s Associate Medical Examiner. She is a lifelong resident of Birmingham and the daughter of Alabama’s most beloved senator. She made me promise not to tell her age and she promised to answer most of your questions.

Ask away, gang! And have a terrific weekend!

Deb

The Sneak Peek Continues–RAGE Chapter Three!!!

We’re almost there–RAGE, book four in the Faces of Evil series, will be released in a mere 10 days! We have another chapter in the sneak peek and winners of the Street Team Challenge, so keep reading!

RAGE

By Debra Webb

Chapter Three

“Lieutenant Grayson saw his wife at eight last night when he stopped by to tuck his son into bed. When he left Mrs. Grayson was watching a movie.” Harper added the movie title to the timeline he had created on the white board in the SPU offices. “The DVD was lying on the coffee table at the scene this morning.”

“Can anyone else corroborate the times he gave for returning to work last night and leaving for home this morning?” Jess leaned against the front of her desk. According to Grayson, he and his partner, Sergeant Jack Riley, had been providing support to BPD’s Gang Task Force in their off-duty time. As head of the GTF, Captain Ted Allen was drawing as much manpower from the other divisions as he could in an attempt to get a handle on Birmingham’s escalating gang problem.

“Sergeant Riley and Lieutenant Prescott have confirmed that Grayson left for home just before eight last night and returned shortly before nine.” Harper noted the times on the board. “He pulled an all-nighter and didn’t return home until he got the call about the murder this morning.”

Prescott belonged to SPU but she, too, was on loan to the GTF. Considering she was not happy at all that an outsider like Jess had gotten the newest deputy chief position, she wasn’t likely in any hurry to be taken off that detail. Or to assist Jess in this case or any other. No matter that Birmingham was her hometown, Jess had spent more than two decades away. Most of that time she had worked with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. That made her an outsider to those who’d served locally for their entire careers.

That she’d been offered this position by her former fiancé, Chief of Police Daniel Burnett, ensured that most failed to consider her qualifications for the job before assuming the worst. Jess had a long, uphill journey when it came to fitting in and gaining the respect of her peers and subordinates.

No problem. She’d been climbing hills since the age of ten.

“Nothing from Dr. Leeds on the time of death?” she asked Officer Chad Cook, the youngest and least experienced member of their unit.

“Not yet, ma’am,” he piped up. “Dr. Leeds’s assistant expects they’ll have some preliminary information around two.”

Jess hoped so. She had to give Burnett something by five thirty. The BPD’s division chiefs and the mayor would likely be at the six o’clock briefing. All involved would want assurances that the investigation was well under way. Getting some estimate on time of death and narrowing down cause of death would be helpful.

Detective Wells turned in her chair to face Jess and the others, hopefully with an update on the Grayson family financials.

“Lieutenant Grayson’s finances have changed in the past year. He inherited a handsome sum from a rich uncle. In addition,” Lori went on, “to the home on Shady Creek Drive, and the pool guy, he recently purchased a beach house just outside Mobile along with a boat and two Jet Skis as well as a vintage Corvette. We’re not talking millions here, but a tidy sum nonetheless.”

“A vintage Corvette,” Cook noted. “Nice. We young guys can never afford that. It’s always the old geezers driving a sweet ride like that.”

“That’s what Trenton meant,” Jess rationalized, ignoring their youngest member, “when he said Gabrielle’s finances had changed this last year.” Tied up that loose end.

“Gabrielle Marquez Grayson came into the marriage with no savings or assets that I can find,” Lori added, “but she had a good job. Charge nurse at New Life Rehabilitation Center. She worked there for five years before leaving to become a full-time wife and mother about the same time the lieutenant got his inheritance.”

“What about the divorce from Sylvia, the senator’s daughter?” Jess ventured. “Did money change hands other than what went to the lawyers?” Probably wasn’t pertinent, but Jess wanted to know for her own selfish reasons. She wanted to know more about Sylvia and her sister.

“Not anything documented. But” —Lori shot her a look—“in case you wondered, Sylvia Baron was born very rich and her tax bracket doesn’t appear to have changed.”

Jess wasn’t surprised. “I take it she didn’t remarry?”

Wells shook her head. “No other spouses, no children.”

Jess pushed off her desk and walked to the case board. She scooted her glasses up her nose and viewed the photos of the Grayson family, the partner, and the pool guy that Harper had posted. The timeline started at eight last night, since Gabrielle was alive at that time according to the husband. There was more to this woman’s life than they knew, far more. And a whole lot more to her death.

“Add Sylvia Baron and MS-13 to the board,” she told Harper.

“You really think this is gang-related?” he asked as he complied with her request. “Seemed way too personal to me, and Captain Allen says no one is claiming responsibility or issuing warnings of more to come.”

Jess agreed with the way too personal part. “No, Sergeant, I do not believe this is gang related. But if anyone asks or drops by and looks at our case board”—she turned to the board, which would be impossible to conceal from anyone who popped into their office—“they won’t know that until I’m ready for them to know.”

Some things were better left unsaid, she had learned, until theories were proven. Like the scenario that the ugly words written in Gabrielle’s blood were nothing more than an attempt to mislead the investigation. To distract from the true evil.

“We have a gruesome murder in a bedroom neighborhood that hasn’t seen any criminal activity beyond the occasional robbery around the Christmas holidays in its forty-year history.” Jess paced the length of the case board as she thought out loud. “Working-class folks. Most have lived in the neighborhood for a decade or longer. They go to church on Sundays and take pride in their homes and yards. It’s picture perfect.”

“Until now,” Harper countered. “Last night’s murder put a black spot on their clean record.”

“Let’s consider the scenarios. All the scenarios.” Jess grabbed a dry erase marker and uncapped it. “If this is gang related, which I doubt, what’s our motive?”

Harper peeled off his jacket and hung it on the back of his chair. His and Lori’s desks were stationed face-to-face. Lori’s gaze followed Harper’s move to get comfortable before turning back to Jess. Lori’s hardcore independent woman attitude was slipping just a bit. Jess wondered if she realized how hard she was falling.

“If,” Harper suggested, “this was an MS-13 grudge or revenge killing, then the motive would be related to something Mrs. Grayson or Lieutenant Grayson had done, either on purpose or unknowingly.” Hands bracketed at his waist, the senior detective strode over to stand by Jess. “Since Grayson has been helping out with the GTF, we could assume he’s crossed someone or gotten his name on the wrong list. He doesn’t believe so, but he could be wrong. He may have been in the wrong place at the wrong time and not realized it. All white guys look alike to some people.” Harper smirked.

“Except,” Lori chimed in, “Gabrielle Grayson was decapitated, marking her as a traitor, in gang terms. We know she worked as a nurse at a rehab center for several years, maybe she provided medical care or drugs to the wrong people. And now it’s come back to haunt her.”

“And they waited more than a year to kill her?” Harper challenged.

“Unless,” Jess interjected, “she never stopped.” She listed the scenario on the case board. Medical/drug connection. “Maybe she liked having money of her own. She was a career woman before, earning a nice salary. Maybe motherhood and financial dependency wasn’t exactly how she’d seen her life playing out.” And maybe Jess was infusing a little too much of her own personal concerns into the scenario.

Lori got out of her chair and strode to the board. “What if she finally said no? After all, she was a mother. She had the child to think off. And there was always the worry that her husband would find out—assuming he had no idea about her extracurricular activities. Maybe she decided to do the right thing and refused to aid this unknown perp and he got pissed.”

Jess passed her the marker. Lori sent the two males in the room a cocky smile before adding motives to the medical/drug connection. Money and fear, then revenge.

Harper held out his hand. “If we’re tossing out fictional plot points,” he said flatly, “what if this make-believe person she provided with drugs and medical care is really the father of her child and threatened to take him. When she wouldn’t cooperate, he killed her.”

Lori harrumphed. “Did you get that from Lifetime’s movie of the week?” She passed him the marker and he added his scenario without acknowledging her jab. “Not to mention, if that were the motive, why didn’t he take the child?”

“Maybe someone interrupted him,” Harper argued. “He had no choice but to flee the scene without the child.”

Officer Cook joined them at the case board. “Other than the broken slider, there wasn’t the first sign of a struggle or an attempt to get away from her attacker inside the house. Don’t things usually get turned over or broken? Besides the glass and the blood where the victim was found, the place was neat as a pin. Did the intruder have a gun and that prevented her from fighting or”—he looked from Harper to Jess—“did she know her attacker? Maybe an old lover, like Sergeant Harper said. Did the broken slider have anything to do with the murder? Maybe that happened before the killer arrived or when he was leaving. Or maybe the killer just wanted it to look as if someone broke into the house.”

“You going for brownie points, Cook?” Lori teased.

“Valid scenario, Cook,” Jess said with a chastising glance at Lori.

Cook added his two cents’ worth to the board. Did vic know her assailant?

“The pool guy said the kid was driving her nuts,” Lori reminded them. “Maybe she was bored and lonely and had gotten involved with the wrong people. Could be a recent lifestyle change. Bored housewife and all that jazz. The reality TV industry is making a killing on what America’s housewives are up to.”

Jess nodded. Another credible scenario. “We need to know if Mrs. Grayson was suffering from depression or anxiety related to motherhood or to her marriage. Was her husband not paying attention to her needs and worries as her old pal Trenton suggested? And what had she done about that?”

Harper reached for the marker and added husband’s lack of attention to the growing list.

Jess turned to Lori. “Detective, track down Gabrielle’s girlfriends or coworkers from her nursing days. Find out who she was and what she did when she wasn’t busy being a wife and mother. See if anyone is aware of her ever skating on the dark side with a bad guy like Lopez.”

“I could also dig around to see if she’d joined any support groups,” Lori offered. “If there was anything going on from the new mother perspective, she may have felt more comfortable seeking advice from strangers.”

“That, too,” Jess agreed. “Officer Cook, spend some time with any academy buddies you have in the South Precinct or in the GTF. See if anyone’s talking about Lieutenant Grayson. We’ve been a little focused on the wife, but she may not have been the one living dangerously. This new money may have gone to his head. Maybe volunteering with Allen’s task force was about getting away from the house.” Jess pressed Cook with a warning look. “Tread carefully. We don’t want anyone thinking we’re trying to build a case against an innocent man, especially one who carries a shield.”

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll be very careful,” he promised.

Harper waited patiently for his orders. “Talk to your contacts in gangland and find out if one clique or the other is taking responsibility for this murder. Maybe Captain Allen isn’t sharing all he knows. Though I can’t imagine why, unless it would somehow put us at odds over jurisdiction again. We have to determine if someone had a grudge against Grayson or Gabrielle. Did she have friends in that world that her husband might not know about?”

“And you?” Harper inquired.

Jess’s gaze narrowed. “I’ll be following up with the crime scene techs and the ME. Translation,” she stated for emphasis, “I’ll be fine without a babysitter.” If Burnett didn’t stop whispering in her detectives’ ears she was going to give him what for. She was a grown woman, a highly trained one at that.

Of course that hadn’t protected her Saturday night. She’d gotten snatched right off the street like an unsuspecting child. Not her proudest moment.

“Yes, ma’am,” Harper acknowledged. “Just trying to keep the big boss happy.”

The big boss. Ha! Jess motioned for them to go. “Shoo…go find witnesses and motives.”

Harper grabbed his jacket. Wells got her purse and Cook just smiled and followed the crew. Jess watched them go and felt relieved. She felt good, actually. This, her new job and her new life, was going to work out better than she’d expected. There would be more bumps along the way but she could see a future here.

The door opened and Jess looked up to see who had forgotten what.

Sergeant Jack Riley, Grayson’s partner, wandered in. “Chief Harris.” He gave her a nod. “I made sure my LT got home okay. My wife, Sarah, is seeing after him and little Gary. I thought I’d check in with you. See what I can do to help.”

The reality that all their notes were in plain sight had Jess rushing across the room to meet him. “Thank you for stopping by, Sergeant.” She snagged him by the arm and directed him to the small conference table, which would put his back to the case board. He favored his right leg. Had a bit of a limp. There had been some mention of medical leave in his file. “I was hoping for the opportunity to speak with you today.”

“I want to help any way I can,” the younger man assured her.

Jess settled in the chair across the table from him and didn’t waste any time on idle chitchat. “How long have you worked with Lieutenant Grayson?”

Riley was considerably younger than his fifty-year-old partner. At thirty-three he was a ten-year veteran of the department. Married with two children. His wife was also a former nurse and now a stay-at-home mom.

“Five years. It was his guidance that got me promoted to sergeant a year ago. The LT is the best. You won’t find a better cop, friend, husband, father.” He turned his hands up. “He’s a model human being.”

“The two of you have never had any problems?” Two years ago, shortly after returning from his medical leave, Riley had requested a transfer out of his division but then he’d withdrawn the request.

He moved his head side to side. “I’ve had problems with Chief Waters, but never with my partner.”

“What sort of problems? Chief Waters has been your superior most of your career as a detective. What suddenly went wrong?”

His brow creased into a deep frown. “Am I a suspect, Chief?”

Jess laughed. “You know the answer to that, Sergeant. Until I clear them, everyone who was a part of Gabrielle Grayson’s life is a suspect. Including you and her husband.”

He jerked his head in acknowledgment. “Yeah.” He heaved a big breath. “I know the drill. It just feels weird being on this side of the table.”

She definitely understood. Not so long ago she had been on the wrong side of an interview. Eric Spears, the Player, had tried and succeeded in destroying her career at the bureau. But she had bounced back. Funny, she hadn’t expected a journey to her past to turn into her future.

“Chief Waters didn’t see me as up to the job after my accident,” Riley explained. “I was in an automobile accident. Left me with a limp, but I’m as good as I ever was.”

“So you had to prove yourself to Waters,” she suggested.

He nodded. “Ticked me off at first, but I got over it. Leaving the precinct wasn’t a problem but losing Larry Grayson as a partner was out of the question.”

“Did you and your wife spend a lot of time with the lieutenant and his wife?”

“Yes, ma’am. My Sarah and Gabrielle are…were best friends. We were just there for a cookout yesterday before Larry and I went on shift with the GTF.”

“You’ve been supporting the GTF longer than Lieutenant Grayson. Was that a financial decision, Sergeant?” The man didn’t have finances nearly as solid as his partner’s. Then again, he was younger and hadn’t inherited a tidy sum from his rich uncle either.

“At first it was purely a financial decision. I got two kids, Chief, and a wife who’s a stay-at-home mom. The extra money came in handy. But when I saw what an impact Captain Allen’s people are having on the gang situation I would’ve kept doing it regardless of the money.”

“Can you tell me if Lieutenant Grayson and his wife were having any sort of trouble? Sometimes parenthood throws a kink in the best marriages.”

Riley took some time before answering. “I’ve been a part of their lives since they met and married. They never fought, at least not publicly. And they seemed genuinely in love. But she was lonely, I guess, like most of the wives. And bored maybe. She had a high-octane career as a nurse before and I think she felt a little sad that she’d given it all up. Sarah went through the same thing after our first was born. Otherwise, Larry and Gabrielle were the perfect couple.”

Jess could sympathize. She couldn’t imagine her life without her career. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing, but it was what it was. “No marital issues at all, huh?”

“If there were any, I didn’t know about them and I probably spent more time with the family than any other person on the planet.”

“Did your wife know Gabrielle when she was a nurse?”

“Oh yeah. They worked together for a couple of years. They knew and respected each other. My wife introduced Gabrielle and Larry at a cookout at our house.”

“Wasn’t Grayson still married to Sylvia when he met Gabrielle?”

“That would be an affirmative.” Riley whistled a long, low sound. “Now that was hairy.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Sylvia Baron wanted a husband just so no one could call her an old maid. That Larry was a decorated cop—a hero—made him suitable, I guess. She was never home and she refused to have children.” He shrugged. “To be honest, she’s one of those women who’s self-sufficient. She doesn’t need a man for money or anything else.”

“You mean, she’s independent and ambitious?” Jess shouldn’t have taken offense, but she did.

Riley hesitated but then nodded. “Guess so. No offense intended to independent, ambitious women. She’s just a little cold-hearted. I guess you have to know her.”

“Maybe so.” That was the thing with Southern men. If a woman was ambitious and independent and had no desire to breed she was cold-hearted and probably a bitch. Jess supposed she was in real trouble. “Were there any problems between Sylvia and Gabrielle?” It was doubtful Sylvia would have set out to murder the other woman years after Gabrielle had stolen her husband, but stranger things happened.

Riley was shaking his head. “None to my knowledge. I never heard Larry or Gabrielle mention Sylvia. Not in the last year or so anyway. Like I said, things were a little sticky at first but everybody moved on.”

“No marital problems. No financial problems.” Jess tapped the file she had been reviewing earlier. “I guess if Gabrielle’s murder wasn’t related to their personal lives or Grayson’s work, it was a random act of violence.”

“Had to be.” Riley turned his palms up. “We know all the same people. Same friends—all cops, by the way. And Gabrielle was a saint. She had no enemies. Everyone who ever met her loved her.”

Unfortunately, most saints died as martyrs. “If you think of anything else that might prove useful, please call me immediately, Sergeant. You have my number already.” She’d given him a card at the scene.

“For sure.”

Jess showed him to the door, mostly to ensure he didn’t turn around and get a good look at her case board. The less he knew, the fewer questions Grayson would ask.

When he was gone, she marched over to the board and considered what she could do to protect the privacy of their timeline and notes. The board stood on legs but didn’t rotate as some did. Maybe this one was too long for that. It did have wheels though.

It took some finagling but she got it turned around so that the side with their timeline, photos, and notes faced the wall.

That worked. For now.

She grabbed her bag. A set of keys lying next to the phone on her desk snagged her attention. She picked up the keys and the note beneath them.

Jess, use this Taurus until your Audi is released. You’ll find it in the garage, 2nd level, slot 32. It belongs to the department so take it easy. DB.

PS: I took care of your parking ticket.

“God, I hope it’s not beige.” Department vehicles were purposely nondescript. At least she had transportation at her disposal without having to visit the department carpool. It annoyed her that her Audi was still in the print shed. They knew who had abducted her. Why did they still need her car? And that parking ticket was beyond ridiculous. If she hadn’t been distracted by that damned thing she might have noticed trouble was about to swoop in on her. Right now, all she wanted was her car.

Maybe she could give someone at the lab a nudge and get her car back by tomorrow. Jess dropped the Taurus keys into her bag and headed for the door, checking her watch as she went. Two fifteen. The coroner’s office had had better than four hours to have a look at the victim’s body. Under normal circumstances that would mean nothing. But Jess felt certain that Dr. Sylvia Baron would permit Dr. Leeds to waste no time doing a preliminary examination. Jess wanted to know what, if anything, they had found. She wished she hadn’t ticked off the woman at the scene, but Jess had done what she always did. She’d spoken her mind, putting herself at odds with the highbrow ME.

She’d have to find a way back into her good graces. In this line of work, good contacts were vital.

The door opened just as Jess reached it. A tall, undeniably handsome man blocked her path.

Wesley. Her ex. Supervisory Special Agent Wesley Duvall, who had come all the way from Southern California to help with a case…and to see that she was safe.

“Jess.” He smiled. She liked his smile. Always had. “I was about to go for a late lunch.” He chuckled. “I’m still on West Coast time it seems. Anyway, I thought maybe you’d like to join me. I remember how often you forget to eat, so I’m guessing you haven’t had lunch either.”

“That’s so sweet.” Her stomach sent a signal of its own confirming his conjecture. She hadn’t eaten. “I was just on my way to check on the progress at the coroner’s office.”

“I have nothing scheduled this afternoon.” He held up his hands. “We could have a quick lunch and then make your stop.”

She hadn’t heard from Leeds or Baron. There might very well be no news at this point. Why not take Wesley up on his offer? “That works. Sure.” She pushed a smile into place. “I’ll drive.” She could pick his brain about how the Lopez situation might relate to the Grayson case. Not that she really believed it did, but it was one of those avenues that had to be fully investigated.

They were barely out the door when Jess’s cell clanged. She dug in the bottom of her bag while ensuring she kept Wesley marching toward the elevator. What she really wanted to do was get out of the building before Burnett saw them together. He would drive her nuts about it.

…Drive her nuts.

People tossed that phrase around all the time. Had Gabrielle Grayson meant it literally or was she just using a common expression when she made the statement in front of the pool guy about her child?

Jess managed to get her cell to her ear and said, “Harris,” at the same time she paused at the elevator and hit the down button. Hurry. Hurry. Hurry.

“Chief Harris, this is Dr. Sylvia Baron.”

The elevator doors slid open but Jess ignored them. “You have news?” She couldn’t imagine any other reason for the call. The woman already disliked her immensely. She certainly wasn’t looking for a lunch partner.

“Before you get excited, Harris, understand that we’ve completed only a very preliminary exam, but we have narrowed time of death to a smaller window and we have a few other details confirmed.”

The elevator doors had closed with Jess too caught up in the conversation to act. She stabbed the button again. “I was actually just about to have a quick lunch and then drop by your office but, please, don’t keep me in suspense, Dr. Baron.”

Jess turned the phone away from her face and to Wesley whispered, “It’s the medical examiner about my case.”

Wesley made an “oh” face and gave her an understanding nod.

The elevator doors glided open once more and Jess started to step inside, determined not to let it get away this time. She stopped just in time to prevent running into Burnett on his way out.

As he looked from her to Wesley and back, Jess silently swore at her bad timing.

“Gabrielle died between nine and midnight,” Dr. Baron said, dragging Jess’s attention back to the phone conversation. “That’s as close as we can narrow the window with any real accuracy at this stage and considering the fact that she was lying on a cold tile floor. Be that as it may, I suspect what you’re going to find the most interesting, Chief Harris, is cause of death.”

One hand held up for Burnett to give her a second, Jess’s full attention zeroed in on the conversation. She tuned out the sound of the elevator doors trying to close with Burnett blocking their path. Every instinct warned that whatever Baron was about to tell her, it was pivotal to the case and finding Gabrielle Grayson’s killer.

“First, we found no evidence of sexual assault.”

Jess was thankful to hear that.

“The beheading, which I believe was accomplished with a saw, something with teeth, was done postmortem. The stab wounds were postmortem as well, but I’m sure you surmised that much already,” the associate coroner announced. “Ironically, cause of death was manual asphyxiation. Now, my question to you, Chief, is, unless the killer was trying out for a part in the next Saw movie, what was the point of all the theatrics?”

That was a damned good question with only one clear answer.

Distraction.

 

Next Friday I’ll post chapter four and we’ll be interviewing Dr. Sylvia Baron! Remember, you can preorder RAGE right now at all online bookstore locations! If you haven’t been able to find your copies of the first three books in the stores, you can get the paperbacks at Amazon and BN.com, all three for less than $10 total! If you prefer an ebook, OBSESSION is only $.99 at all online locations–but this great price is only for a few more days so hurry!

We have a new suspect, Nicole Duykers! Check her out of the Suspects page. Nicole has won a $30 gift card to the online bookstore of her choice! Congratulations, Nicole!

Now for the announcement you’ve all been waiting for…the street team winners! Since there was no way for me to do a $100 winner (the requirements were for purchase confirmations or if the books hit one of the big lists), I decided to choose four winners to receive a $50 gift cards to the online bookstores of their choice. Without further ado, the winners of a $50 gift card are: Marijane Diodati, Linda Hankins, Tracey Berthiaume, and Regan Black! The winners of the RAGE arcs are: Becky Brown Bergeski, Vicki Hancock and Maureen O’Neill Downey! Contact me via debraewebb at aol.com for details on your prizes!

Remember, starting April 30, the new Street Team challenge begins. Get the word out that RAGE is on the shelves! Tell everyone! And don’t forget to let me know where you’re posting and what you’re doing to promote RAGE. Not only will I be giving away those great gift cards again, this time one winner will be chosen to be a character in book 12! That winner will receive 12 autographed copies of the book to give to friends. That winner gets to choose whether he or she wants to be a good character or an evil one. Work hard, team! I’m counting on you!

Have a great weekend!

Deb

RAGE Sneak Peek – Chapter Two!!!

I am so excited! Only 18 more days until RAGE is released! I cannot wait! For the next chapter, read on! And be sure to come back next Friday for Chapter Three!

RAGE

By Debra Webb

2

Birmingham Police Department, 11:30 a.m.

Sandy-haired, golden-eyed, and well-tanned, Johnny Trenton was thirty-two years old and, judging by his rap sheet, a former male prostitute who had discovered a better way to earn a living amid the wealthy and prominent in Birmingham by cleaning their pools and offering private swimming lessons to the kiddies.

Or maybe he’d just assumed a better cover for work in one of society’s oldest professions. At the moment, seated at the interview table and with murder on her plate, unless his occupation was relevant to the case, Jess didn’t particularly care.

Problem was, to her knowledge, the Graysons were neither wealthy nor prominent.

Jess surveyed the file Detective Wells had prepared on Trenton. She reminded herself not to rest her right arm too heavily on the table, since it had one leg shorter than the other three, which was inordinately annoying. “This is your second summer working for the Grayson family?”

Trenton’s boredom with the proceedings loud and clear, he remained slouched in his chair on the other side of the table, barely bothering to lift his gaze to meet Jess’s. “You got it.”

“Who hired you? Mr. Grayson or his wife?”

“Mrs. Grayson.” A smirk twisted his lips. “She said her old man was never home and she needed someone to take care of the stuff he neglected.”

Do tell. “What sort of stuff, besides the pool, was her husband neglecting?”

Trenton hunched his shoulders in a shrug, a lackluster gesture at best. “No clue. She hired me to take care of the pool and that’s what I did.”

“Did Mrs. Grayson seem worried about anything lately that you’re aware of?”

Jess would ask the husband that question as well. She hadn’t gotten to interview him at the scene, which was understandable. He had followed the coroner’s vehicle back to Cooper Green. He was most unhappy that his ex-wife had not been instructed to back off. In fact, according to what Jess had overheard the other cops saying, Grayson and Baron had carried on quite the screaming match outside the murder scene. Dr. Leeds, the official coroner of record on the case, had stood his ground on having her at his side and that was that.

“She never mentioned anything to me.” Trenton made a face that suggested he’d just remembered something. “She did complain that since her husband was never home and she got no breaks that the kid was driving her nuts. I didn’t pay much attention though. That’s what I hear from most of the wives. Sometimes it’s a come on,” he added bluntly, “but not with Mrs. Grayson. She wasn’t interested.”

“Interested in what exactly?” Jess closed the file and waited for his response. The man had no shame. She agreed with Harper. Trenton was far too shallow to have invested enough emotion to murder a victim the way Gabrielle Grayson had been murdered.

“In sex.” He lifted his shoulders and let them drop in another lackadaisical shrug. “Some are lonely, others just need a little excitement in their lives. It’s one of the perks that comes with the job, you know. A fringe benefit.”

“Do the wives pay you for these additional services? We do have laws against that sort of transaction, Mr. Trenton. But then you’re aware of that, aren’t you?”

His posture tensed just the slightest bit. “I don’t get paid for sex anymore, Chief Harris. That was a past life I don’t care to revisit. I maintain very expensive pools for very wealthy people. If I provide an extra service here and there or just a little intimate companionship I get a better tip, that’s all.”

Jess resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “But Mrs. Grayson is not wealthy, correct? And she didn’t live in one of the mansions you typically cater to.”

He exhaled a big breath. “All right. You got me. Mrs. Grayson’s pool wasn’t on my regular billing plan. She paid me what she could afford. But I would have done it for free for the rest of my life if she’d let me. But she wouldn’t. This year, she even insisted on paying me the same as everyone else since her finances were better.”

“Why is that, Mr. Trenton?” Guys like Trenton rarely did anything nice for anyone other than themselves. The comment about Grayson’s improved finances she would follow up on soon enough. “Why would you have worked for free for Mrs. Grayson?”

“Three years ago I did a stint in rehab.” He puffed out a big breath. “Gabrielle was the head nurse. She helped me through it. I would never’ve gotten my act together again without her help, and I didn’t make it easy for her to help me, trust me. I owe her my life.”

The seconds ticked off as his admission elbowed its way into what Jess had surmised about him. She hadn’t expected honesty or compassion and it felt as if she’d just gotten both. She suspected there was more behind that peacockish facade he paraded. “Thank you, Mr. Trenton.” She scooted back her chair and stood. “If we have additional questions we know where to find you. Be advised that you’ll need to remain available until this investigation is closed.”

“You got a pool, Chief Harris?” he asked, his gaze blatantly roving over her as he got to his feet. “My rates are reasonable and I’ve never had a dissatisfied customer.”

Jess laughed. “No, Mr. Trenton, I do not have a pool.” In fact, she didn’t even have a roof to call her own. She had to do something about that. Soon. “I’ll see that someone takes you back to your SUV.”

Outside the interview room, Sergeant Harper waited. “Trenton ready to go?”

“He is and, unfortunately, if he knows anything he’s not ready to share just yet. Has Lieutenant Grayson arrived?”

“He and his attorney are waiting for you in Chief Burnett’s office.”

It wasn’t surprising that Grayson would have an attorney already. As an experienced cop he would understand his position in the investigation. Husbands always had to be cleared when wives were murdered. And he was likely still furious that his ex-wife was involved in the case on any level. That decision had legal trouble painted all over it. Who wouldn’t want legal representation considering all that?

“I just spoke to Chief Waters over at the South Precinct,” Harper went on. “He wanted to be sure we understood that Grayson is one of the best BPD has and we’d better take care of him. I let him know the case is in good hands.”

“Thank you, Sergeant.” Chief Waters’s assurances were exactly the accolades she expected. Grayson was a highly decorated veteran detective. Waters and his division couldn’t be involved with the investigation but his input as regards Grayson was duly noted.

Jess’s senior detective gave her a nod. “Waters is reviewing the cases assigned to Grayson over the past two years but he doesn’t recall anything that would have earned him this brand of enemy. He believes the trouble came from his work with Captain Allen’s team.”

Just another reason for her to want to wring Allen’s neck. Was it too much to ask for a little professional courtesy? “Whatever he’s been doing for Allen, we need full disclosure.”

“Already on it, ma’am.”

“Keep me posted, Sergeant, and please escort Mr. Trenton back to his vehicle at the Grayson home.” She leaned in a little. “See if you can learn anything more about his time in rehab. The victim was the head nurse when he was there.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Burnett’s office was on the fourth floor and Jess opted for the elevator. Not that she was opposed to climbing the two flights of stairs, but these were her only shoes at the moment. Snapping a heel would be a problem. And the truth was she hadn’t gotten into a fitness routine since her move south. Even two flights of stairs would probably kick her butt at this point. No need to go into an interview out of breath.

Tomorrow, she promised herself. She would get into some sort of normal workout routine tomorrow. Next week at the latest.

Detective Wells was back in the SPU office gathering the latest financials on the Graysons, along with Gabrielle’s family and employment history. Officer Cook, another member of Jess’s small unit, was tasked with going over the information in Grayson’s official personnel jacket. Jess had scanned his as well as his partner’s as soon as she arrived back at her office. Unless Grayson had changed his mind since bringing in his attorney, he had given carte blanche to this investigation.

As much as Jess wanted to assume the husband was completely innocent, it was her job to vet him the same as she did all other persons of interest and potential suspects.

Tara, Burnett’s receptionist, greeted Jess as she entered the cozy and richly appointed lobby of Birmingham’s chief of police.

“Chief Burnett’s expecting me.”

“Yes, ma’am. Sheila’s still at lunch so you should just go right on in.”

Jess thanked Tara and made the short journey down the hall to Burnett’s private office. His personal secretary’s desk stood in a more intimate waiting area just outside his door. Jess gave the door a rap as she opened it.

At the head of his conference table, Chief of Police Daniel Burnett stood and motioned for her to come in. His gaze swept over her as if he needed to ensure she was in one piece. Or maybe he was remembering those frantic minutes in his SUV last night before all hell had broken loose.

Lieutenant Grayson and his attorney rose, joining Burnett and yanking Jess back to attention. She didn’t recognize the attorney and Grayson looked as if he’d barely tacked himself back together for this meeting.

“Gentlemen, this is Deputy Chief Jess Harris, head of our SPU and the lady we’ve been talking about for the past fifteen minutes.” Burnett underscored the last with a pointed look at her.

Jess paused at the chair directly across the table from Grayson. “I apologize for keeping you waiting, Lieutenant. I assure you it was in the interest of this case.” She extended her hand toward him. “I am so sorry for your loss.”

Grayson accepted her offered hand and gave it a feeble shake. “I’m grateful that Chief Burnett put your team on this. I’m aware of your reputation, Chief Harris, and I want whoever did this found as quickly as possible. My wife”—he visibly struggled to maintain his composure—“deserves speedy justice.” A single tear slid down his stony jaw.

Jess studied his face and eyes. The agony was genuine. She’d bet her scrawny savings on it. “I appreciate your confidence, sir.”

The attorney offered his hand next. “Marcus Davenport. I’ll be representing the interests of Lieutenant Grayson and his family during these grim proceedings.”

Made sense. Davenport was the city attorney. Jess hadn’t met him before but she knew the name. Davenport would want his thumb on the pulse of this investigation.

“Of course.” She shook his hand. “It’s a shame we have to meet under these circumstances.”

They settled in their seats and Burnett started the conversation. “Lieutenant, you’ve been in the department far too long for me or anyone else to presume to enlighten you on how this investigation will proceed. Why don’t you offer whatever suggestions or questions you have and we’ll go from there?”

“I’ve tried all morning to think if anything was different…but the truth is, nothing comes to mind.” More of those tears glittered in his eyes.

“What about your work with Captain Allen?” Jess prodded. The gang-related avenue was one she’d like to close as quickly as possible, since her instincts were pointing her in a different direction.

Grayson blinked as if just waking up. “I only started working with the Gang Task Force a week ago.” He dragged in a shaky breath. “I’ve had no run-ins with any gang members. Nothing. I can’t imagine how any of them even know I exist. And yet, somehow…” His face crumpled. “How could this happen?”

“Mrs. Grayson hadn’t mentioned any strangers in your neighborhood? No encounters at the supermarket?” Jess asked.

Grayson cleared his throat and took a breath. “Nothing. We talked every day at lunch and if I worked late, I always dropped by in time to help tuck in our son.” His voice cracked on the words. “There just wasn’t any warning. And absolutely nothing in the house appears to be missing. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Jess reached for her notepad and pencil, then settled her eyeglasses in place. She had resigned herself to the fact that without them she was blind when it came to reading. “Lieutenant, do you work the night shift often?” According to the report made by the first officers on the scene Grayson had been on duty until the call came in about his wife’s murder a few hours ago.

“I hadn’t worked nights in years until I volunteered to support the GTF,” he explained. He lapsed into silence for a long moment. “I should have been at home last night.”

“As you said, there was no warning or reasonable expectation of danger. You couldn’t possibly have known your family was a target.”

Grayson was fifty. Fit and more than a little vain, judging by the lack of gray in his blond hair and the contacts his personnel file indicated he wore. Nothing wrong with that. But he had a small child at home and a wife nearly twenty years his junior. Why volunteer for extra duty? Especially dangerous duty?

“What made you decide to give Captain Allen a hand with GTF?”

Obvious frustration crept into his expression. “My partner, Jack Riley, has been picking up extra shifts with the GTF for months. He believes Captain Allen’s efforts are making a hell of a difference in the mounting wave of gang activities washing over this city. Jack’s conviction made me want to do my part, too. I have a son, Chief. I need to help put these bastards out of business. That’s the only reason I wasn’t home with my wife and child last night,” he said with a notable hint of anger in his tone now. “If that makes me a suspect in your eyes there’s nothing I can do about that except pray you won’t waste valuable time.”

Jess accepted the lieutenant’s not so subtle rebuke with a nod. “A more than worthy cause, Lieutenant. I hope you understand that every question I ask is essential to getting to the bottom of this awful business. I’m not in the habit of wasting time.”

He scrubbed his hands over his face, the platinum wedding band glistening on his left ring finger. “It’s hard as hell to sit here and answer your questions” he admitted, “but I recognize we have to do this. Ask your questions so we can move on.”

“All right. Beyond your recent support of the GTF, have you worked any cases that could have somehow put you on someone’s revenge list? Think carefully, Lieutenant. Sometimes trouble can come from the last place we expect. Could be something that happened in your personal life.”

Grayson shook his head. “I’ve gone over and over the cases in my head, frontward and backward. Not one comes to mind. My partner and I have been pulling surveillance for GTF, nothing more. Most of the time the field ops are reserved for those trained specifically for drug and gang enforcement. Jack and I have been involved in only one field operation. You might not remember but I was on the scene at your recovery Saturday night.”

That was where she’d seen him. “I appreciate the backup, Lieutenant.” The reality that his wife had been so gruesomely murdered scarcely more than forty-eight hours after he’d come to Jess’s rescue made keeping her emotions at bay more difficult. She cleared her mind of the sickening images of the scene at his home and steadied her full attention on the man and the case. Even regret was a distraction she couldn’t afford on this case.

“Nothing in your personal life comes to mind either? No problems between you and your wife? Sometimes the birth of a child can change things. Drive a wedge between a couple.”

Fury lit in Grayson’s eyes. His jaw hardened as if holding back his initial response took enormous effort. “My wife and I could not be happier. Our marriage is…” His expression turned haunted. “Our marriage was as close to perfect as any couple could hope for.”

Jess held his gaze when she felt confident he would have looked away. “Even with you away from home so much? Some women might not have been so understanding. There are, after all, husbandly duties around the house and in the bedroom.”

Burnett sent her a warning look. The attorney shifted in his chair. No one wanted her to go down that path, but the question had to be asked.

“I took care of my family, Chief. Always,” Grayson promised. “If you can find anyone who’ll say otherwise I’ll be shocked.”

The man was sure of himself. He’d thrown down that gauntlet without hesitation. Maybe Trenton was wrong about Gabrielle feeling overwhelmed…or maybe Grayson didn’t know his wife as well as he thought.

“I’m not making any accusations,” Jess reminded him. “Just asking the necessary questions. To your knowledge Gabrielle was having no regrets over giving up her work to be a full-time mother? No depression issues?”

“None.” The snapped word echoed in the room.

“There were no problems when you last saw her around eight last night?” Jess pressed. “She wasn’t upset or feeling bad or ignored?”

“Hell no.”

“But you were there only ten minutes or so”—Jess glanced at her notes—“according to your statement to the first officers at the scene. You didn’t have coffee or anything with your wife. How can you be so certain of her state of mind?”

“I know my wife.” He ground out the words from between clenched teeth.

He was angry at Jess right now and she couldn’t blame him. She made a note or two on her pad before settling her full attention on him once more. “So you and Gabrielle hadn’t argued recently? Neither was mad at the other? No frustrations or grudges at all?”

“No, no. and no,” he said flatly, anger still simmering in his eyes.

“All right then. You have my word, Lieutenant, that my team and I will do everything we can to find the person or persons responsible for this tragedy. I hope you’ll call me with any questions or with anything you recall that might be useful to our investigation.”

Grayson’s only response was a steady glare.

“This has been a terrible morning for you, Lieutenant,” Burnett said, breaking the awkward silence. “I would urge you to stay with extended family or friends and allow yourself to grieve this loss. As Chief Harris said, it’s imperative that you keep her informed of any relevant information.” Burnett pointed his attention in her direction. “As I am sure she will keep you fully informed as well.”

Jess flashed him a smile as she dug around in her bag for a business card. “I absolutely will,” she said to Grayson as she passed a slightly dog-eared card to him. She’d crossed out the bureau logo. At some point she needed new business cards. Along with a new apartment and clothes…and her car back. The list of all that needed doing was overwhelming.

Grayson accepted the card and tucked it into his interior jacket pocket. “Thank you, Chief.” He pushed to his feet. His attorney did the same. “My partner insists my son and I stay with him and his family for now. So that’s where I’ll be.” He seemed to lose his train of thought for a moment. “I have people to call and…arrangements to make.”

Jess stood. “Lieutenant, just one last question.” She didn’t have to look at him to know Burnett would be aiming another of those warning stares at her.

Grayson said nothing but waited for her to go on.

“Your ex-wife, Dr. Sylvia Baron, remains adamant about being involved with this case when I feel strongly that she should step aside. Her superior, Dr. Leeds, has backed her up. In any event, are you and Dr. Baron still friends? That wasn’t the impression I got this morning, but there must be some reason she refuses to budge on the issue.”

“Chief Harris,” Davenport offered, “as Chief Burnett pointed out, my client has suffered a great deal today—”

“No,” Grayson cut him off. “I’ll answer the question. That crazy woman”—he spoke through gritted teeth—“is likely reveling in my pain. She refused to be a real wife to me or to have children in the ten years that we were married. Her career was too important. And now…” His voice cracked and trailed off. He shook his head. “We are not friends. I don’t trust her motives. I can’t believe she’s getting away with this.” He closed his eyes a moment. “The idea of her touching my wife pains me more than you can imagine.”

“I understand your reservations,” Burnett put in. “Unfortunately the decision belongs to Dr. Leeds. We spoke just before you arrived. He is aware of the department’s objections and has assured me that he will be personally responsible for your wife. Dr. Baron will be an observer and nothing more.”

That was news to Jess. A few hours ago Burnett had basically told her to back off on the Sylvia Baron issue. Sylvia Baron had reveled in setting her iPhone to speaker so Jess could hear the words straight from the horse’s mouth. So far there hadn’t been time in Jess’s day to demand an explanation from Burnett. But she’d get around to it.

“I’ve lodged my objections with Leeds as well,” Davenport added. “I suspect we haven’t heard the last on that issue.”

Burnett assured Grayson and Davenport that he would stay on top of the matter. Jess waited until Grayson and his attorney were gone before turning to Burnett. Here they were, just the two of them, with a few minutes on their hands. She decided now was as good a time as any to question him about Sylvia Baron.

But she’d have to tread carefully or he would see right through her motives. No one wore jealousy well. And as much as Jess would love to say that distasteful emotion had nothing to do with her curiosity, she tried not to lie to herself too frequently.

“This is going to be a tough one,” Burnett said before she could launch her interrogation. He plowed his hand through his hair. “Grayson’s holding up a hell of a lot better than I would, I can tell you that. The guilt over not being there to protect his family has to be eating him alive.”

“It’s the kind of nightmare no one ever wants to face,” Jess agreed. “And speaking of which, I should get to my office so we can begin building a case board.” She could ask him about the haughty ME later. Right now she had far more important things to do than whine about the women in his life, past or present. Besides, Wells or Harper could get the skinny on Sylvia Baron. Being armed with a little more info before questioning Burnett would be a good thing. To bring it up right now would simply look petty.

As Jess gathered her notes, he moved closer, making a deep breath ridiculously burdensome. Damn it. She hated that she had absolutely no control on her most basic reactions when it came to him. But after nineteen days back in Birmingham she had no choice but to admit defeat on some level.

There was still something between them, even after two decades apart. She could deny that until the day she died and it would be a lie. It had been there ten years ago when they’d run into each other in that damned Publix the night before Christmas and it was there now.

And, much to her dismay, she had learned that every cotton-picking southernism she’d ever heard as a child still lived somewhere in the far recesses of her brain. Evidently changing latitude and longitude had somehow propelled her vocabulary into some sort of time warp.

“You okay? You need anything?” he asked softly.

And Burnett knew just how to make her squirm. His simple question wouldn’t have carried nearly as much impact had he not moved in close enough for her to smell that subtle yet sexy aftershave he wore. “I’m fine. Thank you.” She hefted her bag onto her shoulder and scooted away a few inches. “I should be prepared to brief you by the end of the day. Say five thirty?”

“We’ll need a statement for the press before the department briefing at six. I’ll need time to prepare. So how about five?”

“Why don’t I just give you a statement for the press now?” She gifted him with a big old smile. “We are doing all we can to solve this heinous crime,” she said in her most authoritative and somber tone. “Any information that might facilitate that effort would be deeply appreciated. Otherwise, stay out of the way and keep your innuendoes and unsubstantiated claims to yourselves.” She flashed another fake smile. “How’s that?”

He ignored her question. “Whatever you do, be careful. I’m not happy with you moving forward as if Saturday night didn’t happen. You’re still a target, Jess. Your face has been all over the news. You really should be lying low for a while.”

She made a derisive sound. “And let Chief Black hijack my case? I don’t think so. Besides, you know you want me on this one. Grayson mentioned this was your idea.”

“I need you on it,” he corrected. “There’s a difference. I want Wells or Harper with you at all times. You can keep your head down and still work this case. Stay out of the limelight. Don’t piss off any reporters and have them hounding you more than they do already. Their focus on you adds to your visibility as a potential target.”

“As long as they stay out of my way we won’t have a problem.” She absolutely did not need Burnett telling her how to play nice with the reporters or how to take care of herself. They had been over this before.

Instead of arguing with him as he spouted all the reasons he was right and she was wrong, she used the most ridiculous observations to distract herself. He was wearing the navy suit today. The one she really liked. With the pale blue shirt and the red tie. The suit with its narrow lapels and sleek cut accentuated his broad shoulders and the color did amazing things for those blue eyes of his. None of which she wanted to notice, but she had no more will power where he was concerned than she did with a bag of peanut M&M’S.

The abrupt silence made her blink. He had stopped talking and was watching her stare at him. “You shouldn’t wear that suit.” She made an unpleasant face for emphasis.

He looked down at his jacket, smoothed a broad, long-fingered hand over the trim lapel to the one button fastened at his lean waist. “I like this suit. What’s wrong with it?”

Her shoulders poked up then fell. “Don’t know. Maybe it’s the color.” She backed toward the door. “Or the cut. Something is”—she held up a hand and moved it back and forth as if she couldn’t excavate the precise words—“just not right with that one.”

He waved her off and headed for his desk. “I want a proper sound bite by five o’clock.”

There was something else he did exceedingly well. Tick her off. “Maybe then you can brief me on Sylvia Baron and why she thought you would take her side over mine.” The demand was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

Her insecurities notwithstanding, Burnett was supposed to have her back at moments like the one that occurred today between her and Baron. And he’d fallen down on the job.

“She’s Senator Robert Baron’s daughter. The Baron family believes they still run Birmingham the way they did in the old days.” He shrugged. “She’s throwing his office around, that’s all. It’s what she does.”

A senator’s daughter. Well, well. Jess remembered something about him and a senator’s daughter. “Weren’t you married to a senator’s daughter the first or second time?”

Burnett glowered at her from behind his desk. “I was not married to Sylvia.” He shuffled a stack of messages.

Oh my God, that was it. If he hadn’t been married to her it had to have been someone close to her. “Her sister then.”

“Yes,” Burnett confessed as he reluctantly met her gaze once more. “I was married to her younger sister. It was a long time ago but Sylvia doesn’t seem to notice. When it suits her, she uses that ancient history to her benefit.”

Right there, in a nutshell, was the number-one reason Jess disliked small-town life. Everyone knew everyone else and made it a point to know his or her business. Furthermore, most people were related by blood or marriage, or both. The whole small-town mentality was as pervasive as it was invasive. It made her crazy.

“Do you have any other ex-wives or ex-sisters-in-law running around here that I’m likely to lock horns with?” Might as well get all the cards on the table. Burnett had married the first time less than a year after his and Jess’s breakup. Just like that, she did a mental finger snap. Six years together and he was over it in less than one.

But, like he said, that was ancient history. And yet, she couldn’t put it fully behind her.

“That is none of your business, Chief Harris.” Burnett faked a smile. “By the way, I almost forgot to ask. How’s Agent Duvall?”

Chief Harris? “Don’t even go there. Wesley is my only—only—ex. Everyone’s entitled to one.” Jess promptly turned her back. “I have a case to solve.”

“See you at five,” he called after her.

“Five thirty,” she tossed back on her way out the door.

That was the thing about exes. Whether it was the other half of her one failed marriage or her twenty-year-old love affair with Burnett, an ex was like a bad penny, they just kept showing up again.

And these days a penny was pretty much worthless.

 

I hope you enjoyed Chapter Two! Remember, next week I’ll post Chapter Three. RAGE is available for preorder right now! And don’t forget to get your copies of the first three books in the Faces of Evil series! OBSESSION is still only .99 in ebook and under $3.00 in paperback! IMPULSE and POWER are on sale as well! So get your copies now and tell your friends!

Until next week!

Deb

RAGE is coming! Sneak Peek at the Faces of Evil Book Four!

What a crazy two weeks! With the release of OBSESSION, IMPULSE and POWER in paperback I’ve been a busy lady! And so has my amazing Street Team! Today starts the sneak peeks at RAGE, book four in the Faces of Evil series! Hold onto your hat, here we go!

 RAGE

By Debra Webb

  PROLOGUE

Birmingham, Alabama, Monday, August 2, midnight

A big flash of lightning streaked across the sky, making the room bright. Devon Chambers counted the seconds in his head. He didn’t like storms. He hadn’t wanted to come out of his house, but he’d heard the baby crying.

Six-one-thousand…seven-one-thousand…thunder clapped, almost drowning out the baby’s wailing.

It was raining hard outside and Devon was dripping on the tile but the mommy wouldn’t mind.

She was dead.

His stomach hurt even though he couldn’t see the mommy now. It was too dark. But Devon understood dead. His mommy had died, too. He remembered watching her in the pink coffin and waiting for her to breathe. She never did. Not even once. No matter how long the preacher talked she still didn’t breathe.

Devon hadn’t liked it much when they closed the lid and put her in the ground where she couldn’t get any air for sure. He’d worried about that until the next day at school when his teacher told him about being dead and going to heaven. He was glad about heaven. All the preacher had talked about was the angel taking Devon’s mommy in his arms and giving her to God. Devon decided he didn’t like angels much. But he guessed that was the only way to get to heaven. Couldn’t hang around down here forever, his teacher said.

Lightning flashed again and he knelt on the floor and touched the blood. It was thick and sticky. He shuddered. Not because he was afraid. He wasn’t afraid. Not for real. Rubbing the gooey stuff between his thumb and fingers he wished the lightning would come faster so he could see if the mommy had changed her mind about going to heaven and started to breathe again.

Maybe if he put her head back she would decide not to go with the angel. Patting the darkness until he touched her hair, he scooted the mommy’s head back to where it was supposed to be. He couldn’t figure out why the angel would cut it off like that. Wouldn’t she need it in heaven?

He wondered if God would be mad about the bad words. They were written on her forehead. He could wipe ’em off, but the angel had written them there.

He didn’t want to make the angel who took the dead people to heaven mad.

When the lightning had first shown him the angel taking the mommy, his throat got too tight and his heart had beat faster and faster. He’d had to go inside himself for a while. He tried not to, but he couldn’t control it sometimes. Sometimes he just had to hide. The doctor said it was his safe place.

When he’d come out of his safe place, the baby had been crying and he’d sneaked out of his house to see if it was okay. If anybody found out he’d come over here he would be in big trouble, especially with his sister. She would be really mad. But the baby was crying harder and louder, so he had to something. The mommy wouldn’t like her baby crying. She could probably hear it all the way in heaven.

He waited a minute for the lightning to come again so he could see where the glass was on the floor. The light flashed, blinkity-blink, and real carefully he walked around the broken glass and the blood and made his way through the house waving his arms around in front of him so he didn’t bump into anything. He felt like a blind kid. He was glad the lightning came a little faster now, even though the thunder growled like a mean old bear faster and faster, too.

The baby’s room was dark like the rest of the house. Devon thought about turning on the light but that might make the angel come back and he wasn’t ready to go to heaven. He couldn’t leave his sister all by herself. She would be sad. She pretended not to like him much but he knew she loved him. Working too much and trying to go to school made her grouchy. And he was a lot of trouble. When his mommy was sick Devon had heard her talking to his sister. She said that even though he was a lot of trouble, he was her brother and she should love and take care of him always.

Ever since then he tried not to be so much trouble, but always was a long time and sometimes he forgot.

He wiped his hands really good on his shirt, then he reached into the crib and touched the baby. It stopped crying but made funny sounds and flailed its arms.

What did he do now?

He thought about all the times he’d watched the mommy out by the pool with the baby. Sometimes when it cried she got a bottle and that made the baby happy.

He felt around in the crib until his fingers closed around a bottle and he smiled. The mommy must have put it there before the angel came. Mommies were smart like that.

Devon shook the bottle and he frowned. It was empty. Oh well. He gave it to the baby anyway. The baby sucked and sucked. Sounded kind of like when he got to the bottom of a milk shake and he just kept trying to get that last bit of foamy stuff through the straw.

The sucking stopped and the baby started to cry again. Devon didn’t like the crying. Maybe he could take the bottle in the kitchen and put milk in it. Babies liked milk. He was pretty sure the daddy would be home soon. He would know what to do if the milk didn’t help.

Devon took the bottle and felt his way down the hall and the stairs. He counted the steps so he would remember to go slower and to be careful. That was a rule. Be careful on the stairs. Don’t eat while I’m gone. And never call 911 unless the house is on fire or you’re hurt. If you think someone’s trying to get in the house, go out your window, climb down the trellis, and run to a neighbor’s house. His sister had a lot of rules. She was smart. Really smart. Not like him.

He held his breath as he opened the fridge door. The light made him squint. He blinked a couple of times, then got the milk. With the door open he could see to fill the bottle but he made a mess anyway. He cleaned it up and put the milk away. Always clean up your mess. That was another rule.

Finding his way back to the bedroom was easy. He remembered the way even if it was dark. He hid in the dark a lot. It wasn’t so bad. His sister told him being afraid of the dark was dumb. He didn’t want to be dumb about that.

The baby was still crying real loud. He hoped the milk would make him happy. As soon as he put the bottle to its mouth it started trying to suck at it.

No more crying.

Devon smiled. He did good.

A door slammed somewhere in the house and he jumped. Was the angel back?

More lightning made the room as bright as the inside of the refrigerator. He didn’t see anybody before the room went black again but he could hear someone bumping around in the house. Thunder rumbled and he shivered.

The bumpy noises sounded closer.

Someone was coming.

Devon hid in the baby’s closet. His body shook so much he could barely stand up and the urge to hide inside himself was real strong. He couldn’t see ’cause of the darkness, not even when he tilted his head to look through the slats in the door, but he smelled the angel. Smelled like flowers. The same as the angel that came and took his mommy to heaven.

Would the angel know he was hiding in here?

Angels could probably see through doors like this for sure.

His heart pounded so hard he could hear it in his ears. Tears burned his eyes and he squeezed them shut real tight. In his head, where no one would hear, he prayed for the baby.

Please, God, don’t let your angel take the baby, too. The daddy will be so sad.

The angel left the room without taking the baby.

Wow. God heard him fast. Devon’s knees felt like the Jell-O his sister made him eat when he was sick. He hated Jell-O. Especially the green kind.

He waited, listening for a while. The baby was happy. No more crying. The angel was gone. Devon should go home. The daddy would be coming soon. He might get mad if he found out Devon came into his house. He might blame Devon for the mess.

As quiet as a mouse he sneaked out of the closet and crept to the door. He didn’t hear any more noises, so he hurried down the hall and all seven of the steps. He walked past the mommy, making sure he didn’t step in the glass or the blood. The lightning let him see the way. It was still coming fast.

He stopped at the broken door. It was raining harder than before. He’d have to run across the yard in the rain and squeeze through the fence at the corner where it was sagging a little bit. He was almost too big to fit anymore.

Glass cracked behind him.

His heart bumped against his chest.

Run! the voice in his head told him.

He darted across the yard. Didn’t look back. Skidded to a stop at the fence and squeezed between the boards. Something grabbed his arm. He jerked to get loose. Nails clawed him. He yanked and twisted. He hit the ground, then scrambled up to run. He didn’t stop until he was on the other side of his house and under the floor, in the crawl space.

He hugged his scratched arm and hoped the angel couldn’t find him here. And then he went inside himself.

Chapter 1

Five Points, 7:35 a.m.

Hello Jess.

The appearance of those two words on the screen of her cell phone should not have stolen her breath or weakened her knees, but they managed to do both in the space of a single heartbeat, forcing her to wilt down onto the toilet seat.

Jess Harris shoved a handful of damp hair behind her ear, then hugged her knees to her chest. It wasn’t really the words that had her crouched on the toilet seat of the cramped bathroom. It was the identity of the sender.

Tormenter.

Eric Spears…the Player.

Jess curled her fingers into her sweaty palm to stop their trembling. She pressed her fist to her lips and fought the trepidation howling inside her. Answer him! This might be the last time he reached out to her if she didn’t do something.

She touched the text box on the screen and prepared to enter a response. Before she tapped a single letter another bubble of words appeared.

I watched you on the news last night. Your ex has impeccable timing. I can’t wait to see who wins this round.

Pulse fluttering wildly with an infusion of anger, she considered telling Spears that, as he was no doubt aware, his current location could be tracked via this connection and that she intended to promptly inform the bureau.

But that would be a lie. Worse, he would recognize the lie. Spears knew her far too well.

Using the pad of her thumb she tapped one letter at a time until she’d filled the text box with the message she wanted to send the sociopath who had murdered dozens of women, maybe a hell of a lot more, in his sadistic career as a serial torturer-murderer. Jess smiled as she reread the words she hoped would prompt his need to grow ever closer to her.

One thing’s for sure, it won’t be you. I’m the one who got away, Spears. Guess that makes you a loser and a coward.

After hitting send, she reveled in the idea that her words would burrow under his skin and fester like boils until he just had to claw at the itch. Eric Spears’s malignant narcissistic side wouldn’t deal well with failure. Not only did he not like to lose, he hated the idea of being wrong about anything or anyone. He’d made several mistakes of late. Skating so very close to getting caught was one of them. Allowing Jess to live was another.

Whatever it took, she would get him.

Her cell clanged that old-fashioned tone, announcing an incoming call. She jumped. Nearly dropped the damned thing. Spears wouldn’t dare…

Harper calling appeared on the screen, banishing the stream of conversation between her and Spears.

“Jess, you are truly pathetic.” She swallowed back the lump of undeniable fear that had risen into her throat and forced herself to breathe normally. “Harris.”

“We have a homicide, Chief. Shady Creek Drive off Columbiana Road.”

Jess dropped her feet to the floor and banished thoughts of Spears. “How many victims, Sergeant?”

“Just one…but…”

The silence that filled the air for several endless seconds had Jess’s pulse revving with the surge of adrenaline charging through her veins.

“It’s bad, Chief. Really bad. It’s the wife of one of our own. Lieutenant Lawrence Grayson’s wife, Gabrielle.”

Oh damn. “Crimes Against Persons isn’t working this one?” No need to start the week off like the last one, in a pissing contest with Deputy Chief Harold Black, bless his ornery heart. Today’s staff meeting was supposed to clarify some ground rules and cement the team spirit to ensure better cohesion as they moved forward. That meeting likely wouldn’t happen now. Couldn’t be helped. Justice was the last thing the dead should have to wait for.

“I got the call since the first officers on the scene felt the murder might be connected to the Lopez situation,” Sergeant Chet Harper explained. “The wife was decapitated and there’s a message including some of the buzz words from this weekend’s hit on your place.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jess scrubbed at her eyes with her free hand. Images from the destruction that had been her room at the Howard Johnson Inn flickered through her mind. They had to get a handle on this escalating gang situation. It was turning into a blood bath and resurrecting the ugly memories of the city’s violent, racially unjust past.

The MS-13 clique operating in Birmingham, once lorded over by Salvadore Lopez, was at war with a faction that had split off to follow his younger sister, Nina. The sister was currently in custody for kidnapping Jess, among other charges. Salvadore had gone into protective custody with the promise of rolling over on his infamous father, Leonardo. The elder Lopez was the messiah-like leader of the West Coast’s rampant and ruthless MS-13 activities. Every three-letter agency in the country wanted him to go down, and now they had their chance.

Squaring her shoulders, Jess began the process of tuning out her personal frustrations with the whole damned Lopez family and the regret for the loss of life—particularly an innocent life—that would only get in the way. “Is Captain Allen on the scene?” Allen headed up Birmingham PD’s Gang Task Force. His insights would be invaluable if a gang connection was substantiated.

“En route as we speak.”

“I’ll be there shortly, Sergeant. You know what to do.”

Jess ended the call as she pushed to her feet and headed for the door. She caught her reflection in the mirror over the pedestal sink and paused mid-stride. Her damp hair would just have to dry on its own. She shoved her phone into her robe pocket so she could pile her blond locks into a manageable mass that was annoyingly curly when wet and snapped a claw clip in place. Makeup she could take care of en route. A flick of mascara and a dab of lip gloss would do.

She silently repeated the mantra she’d clung to for the past thirty-six hours or so. I’ll  be okay. It would take more than being kidnapped by some ditzy, power-hungry teenybopper and having her place and her things destroyed to knock Jess off her game.

The tone that accompanied an incoming text had her rummaging for her cell.

I’m deeply wounded, Jess. I thought by now you would miss me as much as I miss you. See you soon.

“The sooner, the better,” she grumbled. Jess Harris was not afraid of anything. Except maybe the possibility of failing to get Spears before he added more victims to his heinous résumé.

With renewed purpose she deleted the conversation and emerged from the bathroom to find Lori, on her cell, probably getting the news about the murder. Jess grabbed the one suit that had survived last night’s kill-the-deputy-chief’s-stuff episode and ripped it free of the dry cleaner’s plastic. She’d failed to pick it up from the dry cleaner on Friday, which was the only reason it had been spared from the carnage.

Since her Audi had been at the lab for processing related to her abduction—and still was, damn it—the car and this one suit were about all that remained of the belongings she’d rolled into Birmingham with. Well, except for the dress and the turquoise pumps she’d been wearing last night. The pumps would just have to do until she had time to shop.

“You need a cup of coffee to go?” Lori asked as she headed for the kitchen with her own mug. Her Five Points studio was one big room with a small bath and closet carved out of the already-tight floor space. Any level of privacy was basically impossible.

“That’d be great.” Jess stepped into her pumps while she picked through the bag of undergarments, cosmetics, and necessities she’d purchased at Walmart late last night. Living out of a plastic bag was no fun, and though Lori insisted she was happy to have her as a guest, Jess was anxious to get a place of her own. She liked Lori a lot, and was proud to have the detective on her team, but staying on Lori’s couch was going to get old, fast. Maybe it had something to do with being in her forties and set in her ways, but having alone time felt immensely important, especially when she hadn’t had any in about forty-eight hours. She needed her space. Along with a new wardrobe and almost everything else a woman required to operate on a day-to-day basis.

Unfortunately, all of that would have to wait.

She had a homicide to get to.

 

Shady Creek Drive, 8:30 a.m.

“Whoa.” Lori surveyed the crowd gathered as she turned off Columbiana Road. “This is going to be complicated and”—she blew out a big breath—“messy.”

News vans cluttered the intersection of Columbiana and Shady Creek. Birmingham Police Department cruisers lined the street on either side of where they needed to turn. This tragedy had befallen one of their own and a show of strength was expected. The gesture was heartfelt, but there was no place for crowds at a homicide scene. At least not until after complete scene documentation and thorough evidence collection. The potential for contamination and/or loss was far too great with every warm body that entered a crime scene.

“Do you know Lieutenant Grayson?” His name sounded familiar but Jess couldn’t recall meeting him. She’d been introduced to so many of Birmingham’s finest since her arrival scarcely three weeks ago that she couldn’t say for sure whether she’d met him or not.

“I’ve seen him around but I don’t really know him.” Lori powered down her window and showed her badge to the uniform controlling access to the block. When he’d waved her through, she went on, “Grayson is with Field Operations, South Precinct.”

Still didn’t click for Jess.

“What kind of reputation does he have?” As wrong as it seemed, close family members were always the prime suspects in a case like this until evidence and alibies proved otherwise. Lawrence, aka Larry, Grayson was a cop, so the fundamental steps in a homicide investigation would be no surprise to him.

“A good one as far as I know. I’ve heard his name a few times when accommodations were handed out.” She glanced at Jess. “If you’re asking me if he would kill his wife, I don’t know him that well, Chief.”

“I guess that’s something we’ll need to learn.” They were on duty now. Jess was the deputy chief of SPU, Special Problems Unit, and Lori Wells was one of her detectives. Their ability to be friends and step back from those rolls as needed fascinated Jess. After nearly two decades doing investigative work, this was her first time to have friends, in the true sense of the word, on the job. She’d certainly never been the houseguest of a coworker.

Maybe an old dog could learn a new trick.

The houses along Shady Creek were modest Brady Bunch–style ranches and split-levels, circa the seventies; it was a typical blue-collar neighborhood. Good folks who were forever stuck on the low end of middle class while being overworked and underpaid.

Crime scene tape circled the yard, using trees and shrubs for support and announcing that bad things had happened to those who called this address home. Outside that gruesome yellow line a host of cops had surrounded an emotionally distraught man and were struggling to get him into the passenger seat of a sedan.

“That must be him.” He looked vaguely familiar, but Jess still couldn’t say for sure if she’d met him.

“Yeah. Damn.” Lori shook her head. “Looks like he’s lost it.”

Jess grimaced at the emotionally charged scene. “Who wouldn’t?” She steeled herself in preparation for what was to come. No matter how experienced the investigator, when murder hit this close to home—a fellow cop—it was difficult to take in stride.

“You see any sign of the coroner’s wagon?” Between the cruisers and all the other vehicles crowding the street, not to mention what looked like a brigade of cops and no shortage of neighbors, it was difficult to see beyond the driveway.

Lori guided her Mustang as far to one side as possible considering the middle of the street was about all that was left in the way of unoccupied pavement and shut off the engine. “It’s the van right behind that Camry riding my bumper.”

Jess craned her neck to see. There appeared to be a male passenger but, with the sun glinting on the other side of the windshield, she couldn’t see the driver. Opting to jerk to a stop in the middle of the street, whoever was at the wheel of the van didn’t seem to care if more of a bottleneck was created.

Jess climbed out of the low-slung Mustang. Instantly the heat crushed around her. The humid air was as thick as molasses. Last night’s storm had ensured a sweltering morning and that little or no viable evidence would be found outside the home.

With one more glance behind her, she checked to see if the ME had climbed out of the van yet. She probably wouldn’t be lucky enough to get Schrader again. For all she knew Dr. Harlan Schrader could be on his way to the job offer at the Mayo Clinic by now. They’d worked a case together last week and not having to go through that awkward first time business again so soon would be nice.

The driver’s side door of the van opened and a female emerged. Shoulder-length brown hair, pale complexion. No one Jess had met so far, that she recalled anyway. The woman wore a lavender wrap dress with matching strappy stilettoes. Her sophisticated—scratch that—arrogant body language confirmed they had not met. Jess was one hundred percent certain she would remember that cocky stride, not to mention the haughty tilt of the woman’s chin.

“This should be interesting,” Lori murmured as she moved up to the front of the Mustang, where Jess waited.

“What’s that?” At the scene perimeter, Jess showed her badge to the uniform.

“That’s the associate coroner, Dr. Sylvia Baron. She’s the lieutenant’s ex-wife.” Lori ducked under the crime scene tape and Jess followed. “She’s a little pushy. No one likes getting stuck on a case with her.”

Pushy or not, sounded like a conflict of interest to Jess.

An older man had gotten out on the passenger side of the van and joined the woman’s purposeful movement toward the house as Jess and Lori made their way up the sidewalk. He looked vaguely familiar. Sixty maybe. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Blond and tanned. All he needed was a diamond stud in one ear and he’d have the whole Harrison Ford thing going on.

At the front door she and Lori stopped long enough to drag on shoe covers and gloves. “Who’s the man with her?”

“That’s Dr. Leeds.”

That was Martin Leeds, the Jefferson County chief coroner? Jess really had to find some time to get to know the various chains of command in Birmingham. She was woefully uninformed. In her own defense, she’d held the position for only two weeks and she’d been embroiled in murder and mayhem all fourteen or so of those days. Well, maybe she’d had a small break here and there. The unbidden memory of steamy, stolen hours spent between the sheets with Daniel Burnett the weekend before last had butterflies taking flight in her belly.

Those frantic and breathless minutes in his fancy Mercedes just last night wouldn’t exactly be dismissed any time soon either. Particularly since he was her boss.

“I don’t want that bitch anywhere near my wife!”

Jess’s attention snapped back to the street as Lieutenant Grayson’s angrily shouted words reverberated in the impossibly thick air. Those closest to Grayson were trying to calm him, but he was having no part of it.

Jess decided that an introduction to Leeds and the former Mrs. Grayson could wait until they were inside and had surveyed the crime scene. The situation outside was a ticking bomb and it wasn’t going to get any calmer until Lieutenant Grayson had been removed from the scene. The man’s wife had been murdered. The ability to think clearly or to reason was long gone.

Inside the house the atmosphere was somber and cold. Jess shivered. It was a sweltering dog day in August here in Alabama but she was wishing she had a sweater just now. Her nose twitched. Even the frosty temperature couldn’t completely conceal the distinct odor of coagulated blood hanging in the air as if she’d stepped into a meat locker rather than a home where a family lived.

Techs were already on-site documenting the scene and gathering evidence. Jess’s first step and top priority was to find the motive, in part based on what she observed here this morning. Had the wife been murdered during the commission of a robbery? Were drugs, money, or both the reason she was dead? There was always a slim chance the killing was a random act of violence. Slim because this was the home of a cop and the neighborhood was not exactly a prime target location for thieves. These weren’t rich folks with a treasure trove of readily sellable goods for the taking.

In Jess’s experience, when a cop or a cop’s family was the target the motive was often vengeance. There was always jealousy, of course, if one or the other had a problem with fidelity. Whatever evidence Jess discovered here, final assessments and conclusions could not be reached until all witnesses or persons with knowledge were found and interviewed. Every hour that passed before all those steps happened lessened the likelihood of success in solving the case.

Harper spotted their arrival and made his way through the main living area and into the foyer. “Chief, the body’s this way.”

“Detective Wells”—Jess hesitated before following Harper—“why don’t you find the officers whose duty it is to protect the scene and explain how that concept works.” She surveyed the number of warm bodies milling around inside the house and shook her head. “I want anyone who’s not a witness or who doesn’t belong to the Crime Scene Unit or the coroner’s office out of here now.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lori headed in the opposite direction as Harper led Jess through the kitchen and down a few steps to a large room at the rear of the house. Jess stalled in the entryway of the room and gave herself a few moments to absorb the details of the scene.

There was so much blood.

Words were scrawled in blood around the walls.

Pig. Whore. Kill the bitch. Kill the pigs. One by one.

The chilly air seemed to freeze in Jess’s lungs as she stared at the other word written in large, sweeping strokes.

Rage.

She blinked away the images from her motel room that attempted to transpose themselves over those currently burning her retinas. Shaking off the eerie sensation of déjà vu, she visually inventoried the rest of the room.

A massive flat panel television hung over the stacked-stone fireplace. A local morning talk show filled the screen but the sound had been muted. Beefy, well-worn leather sofas stood like sentinels on either side of the fireplace waiting for the family to gather. Windows, blinds tightly closed, spanned the walls. The only natural light breaching the space was from the broken sliding door, its two panels of glass lying in pieces on the tile floor. Beyond the broken door, a wood privacy fence surrounded the backyard and swimming pool.

Jess shivered again. “What’s going on with the air-conditioning, Sergeant?”

“The thermostat was adjusted as low as it would go,” he explained. “It’s about sixty-two degrees in here.”

“Seems our killer took the time to think things through before taking his leave.” And he or she obviously knew a little something about skewing attempts at determining time of death. Just another reason to hate all those CSI shows.

“I believe the murder was carried out right here,” Harper said as they moved across the room. “The child, a six-month-old boy, was left in his crib in a bedroom. Nothing in the house, as far as we can tell, was disturbed beyond the damaged patio doors. The standard grab-and-run items like laptops and jewelry are still here.”

“Where’s the child now?” Jess hoped he wasn’t out there amid the chaos on the street. Grayson was in no condition to care for himself, much less a child.

“The lieutenant’s partner, Sergeant Jack Riley, called his wife and she took the baby home with her as soon as a paramedic confirmed the child was unharmed.”

After fishing for her glasses, Jess shoved them into place and moved closer to study the placement of the body. Dressed in a yellow spaghetti-strapped nightgown, the victim lay supine on the tile floor, a pool of coagulated blood around her, her head severed from her body but left right next to the stump of her neck. Tissue was torn in a jagged manner as if the perp had had a hard time getting started with a sawtooth-type tool. Multiple stab wounds along the torso had dotted the pale yellow gown with ugly rusty spots. Her arms were outstretched at her sides, crucifixion style. Legs were straight and together.

Across the victim’s forehead, written in what appeared to be her own blood, were the words PIG WHORE.

Jess stepped nearer and eased into a crouch. She pointed to the victim’s upper arms. “Looks like our killer had a good grip on her at some point.” There was bruising on the chest, just above her breasts. Jess passed a gloved hand over the area. “He held her down while he committed this final atrocity. Judging by the bruise pattern I’d say he was right-handed.”

Harper nodded. “I counted ten stabs to her torso. All postmortem, like the beheading. Didn’t see any indication she had been sexually assaulted.”

“I agree, Sergeant.” The coroner’s office would check for sexual assault, that was SOP. As for the rest, there wasn’t nearly enough blood for the visible damage to have been inflicted while her heart was still beating. No arterial spray from the decapitation. A little castoff from the saw, but that was about it, other than the blood that gravity drained out of the body. In fact, seemed as if the killer waited until livor mortis was well under way before bothering to play psycho surgeon.

Harper pointed to the victim’s hands. “No defensive wounds on her hands or forearms to indicate she fought her attacker. No ligature marks to indicate she was restrained.”

Very strange. Lividity indicated she had been in this position since her death or very quickly thereafter. But why here and like this? Had the victim been watching television when her attacker crashed into the room? Had she fallen asleep on the sofa? Or did she hear the breaking glass and come to check it out? How had he disabled her?

“Could be damage to the back of the head,” Jess suggested. There didn’t appear to be any to the temple areas or the forehead.

“I don’t see any blood matted in her hair close to the skull.” Harper pointed to the long hair fanned around her head.

That was true. Jess rubbed at the wrinkle furrowing her brow with the back of a gloved hand. “Once he’d killed her, what distracted him for so long before he did the rest?” She glanced around the room. Had someone come to the door and interrupted his work? Had the baby started crying and thrown him off balance? The latter wasn’t likely, since the baby was still alive.

“Reminds me of the Manson murders,” Harper said. “I watched a documentary the other night. The anniversary is coming up this weekend.”

Jess had noted that similarity, too, but she wasn’t about to say it out loud. Not with so many ears around. All they needed was the media bringing that kind of connection into this. She scrutinized the tile floor around the victim. Not a single footprint. The perp had been exceptionally careful. “No blood anywhere else in the house?”

“Nothing we’ve found so far. Looks like someone showered recently in the hall bath. The shower floor is damp and so’s the rug in front of it. There’s a faint smell of shampoo, gardenias.”

Surprised, Jess said, “The shampoo should be logged into evidence. We need to be sure the techs check the drain as well. What about a towel?”

Harper grunted a negative sound. “Not in the bathroom or laundry room. If the perp was the one who took the shower, he took the towel with him. Already took care of the rest.”

Jess lifted the victim’s arm. “We have full rigor. She’s been dead nine or ten hours anyway. Maybe longer.”

The manner of the decapitation was primitive. As if the perpetrator hadn’t been able to get the job done on his first attempt, he’d started over a couple of times, mutilating tissue and making one heck of a mess. “No murder weapon lying around?”

“No, ma’am. Whatever the perp used, he took that with him as well.”

With no murder weapon and no ready signs the perp had been careless, the odds of nailing him were stacked against them. “Who discovered the body?”

“Johnny Trenton,” Harper said. “The pool guy.”

Jess made a face. “They have a pool guy?” She’d noticed the pool out back, but this wasn’t exactly the kind of neighborhood where one expected to encounter a cabana boy.

“He arrived at six this morning, as scheduled, to clean the pool. He has a key to the garage and the door that leads out of the garage into the backyard.” Harper gestured to the patio and sparkling pool beyond the broken sliding door. “He made the nine-one-one call. Says he didn’t come inside for fear of stepping in the blood or otherwise damaging the scene. Since it was obvious Mrs. Grayson was dead, he figured there was nothing he could do anyway.”

“He didn’t come in the house to check on the child or the husband?” If he knew the family, he had to know there was a kid and a husband.

“He says the place was as quiet as a tomb when he arrived, so he assumed anyone else in the house was dead, too.”

More likely he hadn’t wanted to risk suspicion by entering the scene and leaving behind a footprint or fingerprint. “Where is this pool guy?”

“In the dining room. I didn’t see any blood on him and his hair definitely doesn’t smell like gardenias.”

“Well, that certainly rules him out,” Jess mused.

Harper cast a somber look at the victim and shook his head. “I don’t think he did this, Chief. This involved some serious rage and a good chunk of time. Trenton doesn’t seem like the type to invest that much emotion, if you know what I mean.”

“Have him transported downtown. I’d like to question him in a more formal setting.” Being driven downtown in the back of a police cruiser should have him eager to cooperate if he knew anything at all. And Jess did understand what Harper meant. Like a crop of choking crabgrass the I-don’t-care-about-my-neighbors attitude had taken root among Southern folks, too. No one wanted to get involved anymore.

She pushed to her feet and walked to the now useless slider and stared across the yard. The lawn was thick and lush. No sign of mud, which meant no footprints out here either. Only the tops of neighboring homes were visible above the fence but one, at the farthest end of the yard, was a two-story like the Grayson home. A pair of side-by-side windows overlooked the Grayson’s backyard.

“Have the neighbors been canvassed?” Jess strained to see any movement beyond the windows across the way. Anyone looking out those windows at just the right time would have had a clear view of the murder.

“Yes, ma’am.” Harper pointed to the house with the windows that had captured Jess’s attention. “We checked that one first. Looks abandoned. Yard’s all grown up. The utility meter has been pulled. No answer and no vehicle in the drive.”

“Damn.” She turned her attention back to the victim, Gabrielle Grayson. Dark hair and olive skin. Thirty or thirty-two. “Latino?” she asked Harper.

“Mrs. Grayson was born in this country but her parents moved here from Spain. Lieutenant Grayson’s partner told me she was a nurse until her son was born and she opted to become a full-time mother.”

“We need to know if she has any connections whatsoever to the gang world.” This was the fifth decapitation Jess had encountered in the last week. The other four ritual killings had been carried out by members of the MS-13 against those they deemed traitors. The major difference was those decapitations had been accomplished while the victims were still alive. This one looked wrong. The words scrawled on the walls were unfocused. The whole scene, including the possibility the perp had showered, was way off when compared to an MS-13 assassination scene.

“There’s no connection that we know of, ma’am.”

Another of those aggravating frowns tugged across her brow. “Where is Captain Allen? I thought he was en route.”

Harper looked away and cleared his throat. “He…ah…dropped by. Took a quick look and said he’d let us know if he heard any rumblings about this. He knows Grayson. Said the lieutenant and his partner have been helping out with GTF but neither has been involved on a level that would ignite something like this. He doesn’t think there’s a connection.”

“He couldn’t hang around until I arrived?” Jess understood the guy had it in for her since she’d barged her way into the Lopez case and stolen the big takedown Allen had had planned, but this was a homicide for Christ’s sake. A cop’s wife.

Jess took a breath, brought her voice down an octave or two. “Stay on Allen, Sergeant, and find out from Grayson’s division chief if he’s worked a case, past or present, within the division that may have landed him on someone’s hate list.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Jess was as sure as anyone could be that this murder didn’t have anything to do with the MS-13. It was way too neat and there were too many discrepancies. But she couldn’t rule out that possibility just yet any more than Allen could. “We also need cause of death ASAP,” she said, more to herself than to the detective next to her. “The media will have a field day with this. We need something to give them before they start making up stuff.”

In the past forty-eight hours a Lopez hangout had been blown up and three clashes in the streets of downtown Birmingham had barely been defused without bloodshed. A couple of fires had been started in abandoned houses. No matter that the Lopez clique was falling apart all on its own, there were some in the community who were looking for an excuse to take matters into their own hands. The murder of a cop’s wife—the mother of a small child—would fuel that fire into a raging inferno.

“There was another clash in Druid Hills just before daylight,” Harper mentioned. “Another house burned after being hit by Molotov cocktails, but no one was injured.”

Damn. Druid Hills was the neighborhood where this war had started. Jess had lived there for a while as a kid. Not much had changed in all this time. Harper’s news just confirmed what she already knew. They needed damage control on this one. “What the devil is taking Leeds and his colleague so long?”

She hated waiting. Worse, Jess’s attention settled on the victim; she hated for this woman to lie here like this any longer than necessary. She hoped Grayson and his ex hadn’t gotten into a war outside.

“I’ll check on that,” Harper offered.

“Do that, Sergeant, and make sure—”

“If you’ll get out of the way,” a haughty female voice announced, “we’ll try to make up the time we lost due to BPD’s incompetence at securing the scene and preventing the flash mob outside.”

Jess turned and came face-to-face with the tall brunette in the lavender dress who appeared determined to live up to her reputation of being pushy. Sylvia Baron.

“Somebody adjust that damned thermostat,” she shouted at no one in particular. “Are we trying to turn this vic into a Popsicle or what?”

“I’ll take care of that,” Harper said as he made himself scarce.

Jess thrust out her hand. “I’m Deputy Chief Harris. I’ll be investigating this case.”

“Dr. Sylvia Baron, associate coroner and medical examiner. This is Dr. Martin Leeds, Jefferson County’s chief coroner. As I said, if you will get out of the way, we’ll attend to our responsibility in this matter.”

As true as it was that the coroner had jurisdiction over the body, Jess was king of the hill when it came to the scene. “Dr. Baron, I’m certain this is an awkward and perhaps difficult time for you. Be that as it may, considering your ties to the victim’s husband, I have strong reservations about your ability to maintain objectivity under the circumstances. Your being here obviously represents a conflict of interest.”

Baron didn’t look surprised that Jess had already heard about who she was. In fact, the ME laughed. “Like I care about your reservations. Now step aside or I’ll call Chief Burnett and have you removed from this case.”

A bad, bad feeling struck Jess. Was this woman another of Burnett’s fancy private-school cronies? Or maybe Sylvia Baron was a former lover or another ex-wife? The man had at least two exes Jess hadn’t met. Either way, she wasn’t running this investigation. Jess was.

Big breath. Stay calm. She stepped around the body and moved closer to Baron. “I think that’s a very good idea. Calling Chief Burnett, I mean.” Jess kept her smile in place as she reached into her bag and retrieved her phone, then offered it to the other woman. “Why don’t you use my phone? Burnett’s at the top of my contact list.”

The woman matched Jess’s fake smile with one of her own. “No need.” She whipped out her iPhone and made the call with scarcely more than a swipe and a tap. “He’s at the top of mine as well.”

 

You can preorder RAGE right now at all online bookstore locations! If you haven’t been able to find your copies of the first three books in the stores, you can get the paperbacks at Amazon and BN.com! In fact, Amazon has the paperback version of OBSESSION for only $2.34! But BN.com is giving them some competition with a price of $2.29! IMPULSE and POWER are only $3.99 each! If you prefer an ebook, OBSESSION is only $.99 at all online locations!

Have a great weekend!

Deb

Happy Release Week and Meet Detectives Lori Wells and Chet Harper!

This week has been crazy good! The first three books in the Faces of Evil series hit the shelves in bookstores! OBSESSION, IMPULSE and POWER look so awesome on the shelves! My publisher did a killer job on those vivid colors! Have you seen the books in your local bookstores? And the price is incredible–only $3.99 each and some stores have them marked under $3!  Send me a pic on my Facebook or Twitter! I would love it if you were in the photos too!

Before we begin the interview with Lori and Chet I wanted to tell you about the really big deals you shouldn’t miss.

First, if you prefer digital, OBSESSION is on sale on www.Amazon.com (and BN.com as well as iBooks and Kobo)  right now for only .99 cents! IMPULSE and POWER are only $2.99. If you go over to www.bn.com you’ll find the mass market paperback version of OBSESSION for $2.34!!!! Unheard of bargains for new novels! Be sure to get yours now–these prices are for a limited time only.

Rather than ask these busy detectives a lot of questions (remember I’m in the middle of edits on RUTHLESS), I thought I’d just do the intros and leave the interrogating to you guys. So, first up, meet Detective Lori Wells. She grew up in Birmingham with her parents and her younger sister Terri. Her father died when she was a child and life hasn’t always been so easy for Lori and her family.  She decided a long time ago that she was going to make sure her mother and sister were always cared for. So Lori whizzed through college in record time and joined the Birmingham Police Department. She made detective just last year. She’s helping pay her sister’s way through college. She’s one ambitious lady!

Detective Sergeant Chet Harper has a few years on the force over Lori. But like Lori, his childhood wasn’t so easy. His mother was in the country illegally and his father wasn’t in the picture. But Chet was fortunate to gain a really good man for a step-father who not only adopted him but ensured his mother got her citizenship. When Chet was only eighteen his step-father was murdered. That case is still unsolved. Something else Chet and Lori have in common is their determination to take care of their mothers. Chet also has a three-year-old son named Chester.

Behave yourself and don’t be too hard on these guys. Be sure to come on back next Friday because I’ll be sharing the prologue and chapter one of RAGE. There will be more excerpts every Friday in April in anticipation of the release of RAGE. Then, the first Friday in May we’ll be interviewing Eric Spears!

Have a happy Easter!

Deb

Pre-Release Party – OBSESSION, IMPULSE, POWER PARTY!!!

Tuesday is the day, folks! The first three books in the Faces of Evil series will be released in paperback for only $3.99 each!!! Be sure to tell EVERYONE to rush out and get their copies next week! And there’s still time to join the Street Team. Sign up is on the home page of this site. But first, let’s party! Five of today’s commenters will win autographed copies of the first three books!

Let’s celebrate by recalling our favorite scenes in one of the first three books. It was a really hard decision but I think one of my favorites was in Power when Jess was faced with the prospect of having to interview all those little ballerinas! Which was your fav? Be careful of spoilers! We don’t want to give too much away in case some who stop by haven’t read the books yet. And if you haven’t started the series yet, leave a comment about which store you’ll be shopping at for all three books (only $3.99 each) and you’re eligible for today’s prizes too!

Meet Chief of Police Dan Burnett

It’s Friday again and we have a very special guest! He’s hot, he’s intelligent and he’s the stuff every woman’s hero is made of. Please welcome Chief of Police Dan Burnett! By the way, if you missed Jess Harris’s interview last Friday you can still check it out as well. For now, Dan is here to answer your every question! But first, a few of mine!

Deb: Dan, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to be here today.

Dan: (Smiles.) I can always make time for you, Debra.

Deb: (Blushing!) Serving as Birmingham’s chief of police is an enormous responsibility. You juggle the oversight of operations and the political parlay of the position quite well. Bringing Jess onboard seems to have added a few new steps to the dance of keeping the peace within the department. Do you still feel you made the right decision?

Dan: (A moment of thoughtful deliberation.) Jess has her own way of doing things and sometimes those tactics rub others the wrong way. That said, the facts speak for themselves: Jess gets the job done, often when no one else can. She’s exceptionally good at uncovering the elements in a case that no one else sees. Putting her in charge of a special problems unit was a great strategy.

Deb: But Deputy Chief Black and Captain Allen, to name a few, don’t appear too happy with having her involved in their territory. Are you concerned others will see your decisions related to Jess as favoritism?

Dan: (Chuckles.) We all have a job to do and working together is the best way to accomplish that end. I’m confident Black and Allen and any others who have doubts about Jess will come around in time. There may be bumps in the road but we’ll get there.

Deb: Just a few weeks ago you came face to face with Jess’s worst nightmare, Eric Spears. Do you think we’ve seen the last of him?

Dan: (Can’t conceal the worry in his expression.) I know the FBI is doing everything possible to find him. Still, I’m keenly aware that I can’t protect Jess the way I’d like. She needs her space. She needs to work. She doesn’t need me “hovering”, as she calls it. Off the record, I can tell you that if I get close enough to Spears again, he won’t be walking away this time.

Deb: (Shiver!) Let’s get personal. Is that okay with you?

Dan: (Sexy grin.) I wondered when we would get to that part.

Deb: I’ll take that as a yes. We only know you at Daniel T. Burnett. What does the T stand for?

Dan: (Deep laugh.) Is that really relevant?

Deb: (Burning up just watching those blue eyes twinkle.) Some of us think so.

Dan: Theodore. After my grandfather. He was a hell of a guy. My mother would never admit it, but he was quite the lady’s man. My grandmother kept close tabs on him. I’m fairly certain it wasn’t about keeping an eye of his diet.

Deb: Speaking of your mother, has Katherine always disliked Jess?

Dan: (Frowns.) Mother doesn’t dislike Jess, she just has a different vision of the woman I should share my life with. Fortunately, she has no say in the matter.

Deb: And what about Wesley?

Dan: (Another frown.) Wesley?

Deb: (Rolls eyes.) Jess tried that maneuver last week. Wesley Duvall, Jess’s ex-husband? He showed up in Birmingham the other night.

Dan: (Shrugs those broad shoulders.) He’s the head of the FBI’s west coast gang initiative. With the Lopez gang situation here, Jess was right to call on him for assistance. (Another vague shrug.) I see no reason he needed to come all this way in person but I’m not about to refuse help. Keeping Birmingham safe is my top priority.

Deb: So you’re not worried that he’s come to Birmingham to reconcile with Jess.

Dan: (Narrows gaze for a sec.) Jess is finally where she belongs. Home. Duvall isn’t taking her anywhere.

Deb: I get the impression you intend to personally see that she stays this time.

Dan: I plan to do everything in my power to see that she says, yes.

Deb: You and Jess have an opportunity that few get…a second chance. Do you think the two of you can get it right this time?

Dan: (Winks.) They say practice makes perfect. I’m happy to practice for as long as it takes.

Deb: (Blushing and grinning!) Let’s take questions from our visitors now. Come on, folks, fire away!

Meet Deputy Chief Jess Harris

Happy Friday, everyone! I know you’re looking forward to the interview with Jess. But before we begin, I have last week’s third suspect to announce. Congratulations, Deborah Furnish! Now, I’d like you to meet Deputy Chief  Jessie Lee Harris!

Deb: Jess, thanks so much for taking time out of your busy schedule to be with us today.

Jess: How could I say no? (She laughs.) Considering you’ve had a hand in turning my life upside down, what’s a few minutes for an interrogation?

Deb: Relax, this isn’t an interrogation. Everyone here today will tell you what a nice person I am. It’s my job to see that the folks who show up here every Friday get what they want. Your fans just want to hear from you, Jess.

Jess: Well, all right then, fire away.

Deb: Okay, I’ll ask you a few questions to get things started and then we’ll take questions from the folks. Let’s start with your childhood. Do you feel losing your parents at such a young age and then moving from foster home to foster home molded you into the determined cop you are today?

Jess: (Raises eyebrows.) Wow, I was expecting something a little more original. Is that really your first question?

Deb: Your reaction tells me that’s a sensitive spot. Is it wise to ignore those feelings? You seem to have a handy knack for putting the past behind you and never looking back.

Jess: (Folds arm over her chest.) Are you trying to play profiler, Ms. Webb? That might be a little above your pay grade.

Deb: Ah, another evasive tactic. Shall I move on to another question?

Jess: (Rolls her eyes.) Of course my childhood contributed to who I am now. That’s Psychology 101. As far as never looking back, I prefer moving forward. I set the bar high for my career goals. There was a lot to do to get where I wanted to be. There’s nothing wrong with that.

Deb: Nothing at all. But sometimes our futures end up taking us back to the past. Are you satisfied with your new position in Birmingham? Working with your first love and facing all the trials and tribulations you left behind after high school?

Jess: Well here I am, aren’t I? Being back in Birmingham was disconcerting at first, but I’m settling in. I’m enjoying spending time with Lily, my sister. I’ve got a great investigative team in place. I certainly can’t complain.

Deb: And Dan? You conveniently left him out. Is that because Wesley is back?

Jess: Wesley?

Deb: You know, Wesley, your ex-husband.

Jess: Working with Dan is complicated. (Big sigh.) We’re managing. Wesley is…Wesley. A very nice man. The kind of man who wanted forever with the right woman. I just wasn’t the right woman.

Deb: Then again, maybe you are and that’s why he’s in Birmingham.

Jess: That’s an interesting theory, Ms. Webb. You should be a fiction writer—oh wait, you are a fiction writer, aren’t you?

Deb: (Smiles.) What about Eric Spears? He appears to be determined to stay a part of your life. How do you intend to be rid of him?

Jess: (Clears her throat.) I’ll have to take the Fifth on that one.

Deb: Can you tell us about the face of evil in your next case, RAGE? What kind of killer are you looking for?

Jess: The kind of killer who looks like you or me. The kind no one sees coming. It’s a big case—one that tests the bonds of my team. But then you know that, don’t you?

Deb: I think I’ll take the Fifth on that one. Why don’t we take questions from the folks? Come on, y’all, don’t cut her any slack. It’s your opportunity to question the tough lady cop.

March Madness: Building a Series

 

Welcome to my edition of this multi-genre blog hop! (See rules and specifics below post)

Last year I launched a brand new endeavor, the Faces of Evil series. Sounds creepy, doesn’t it? The concept came to me several years ago. I wanted to create a scale of evil and write a series focused on that scale beginning with the least heinous of deeds. Mind you, the least heinous of those evils doesn’t exactly equate to light or vanilla when it comes to bad. Even the lowest level of evil can include murder. The seemingly nicest person can snap or be pushed into a situation and end up committing murder. Where that act fits in terms of depravity is all in the motive.

Jess Harris, formerly a special agent with the FBI, can tell you a little about evil.

Any act of evil committed by one or more persons against another is driven by motive. Every motive tells a unique personal story, painting a vivid picture that reveals the dark inner nature hidden beneath the image presented for the world to see. All of us possess a basic goodness, but we each also harbor the potential for evil.

Something else Jess points out is that expert opinions differ on the idea of whether serial killers are born or are made but the one point they all agree on is that neither Charles Manson nor Ed Gein were serial anything until that first act of evil was committed.

Once I found myself in the right place to begin the series, I realized that motive was indeed the foundation for what I wanted to do and where I wanted to go. Originally, the concept was more focused on solving the case and finding justice. As I fleshed out the series I realized it was the motives that intrigued me the most. The impetus for the crime and the differences between the truly heinous villain and the heinous act committed by your average, everyday person.

Eventually the main protagonists emerged. Jess Harris in the midst of personal and professional crises. Dan Burnett, the seemingly has it all guy who has never faced personal or professional hardship. Jess and Dan have two things in common: the relentless determination to ensure justice and the smoldering desire to have what they seem to have lost—each other.

With the main protagonists on page, I needed a compelling ensemble cast. Sergeants Chet Harper and Lori Wells showed up on the scene. Both hardworking, dedicated detectives. Each with their own personal and professional baggage. Other members of the team seemed to create themselves. Once I started, they came to me in a rush.

Then came the hard part, developing the stories. Each one had to feature a crime and a villain more heinous than the last. The idea sort of propelled me back to square one. After all, murder is murder, right? Not really. We’re back to motive again. That made my job a lot less difficult. The focus had to be on the motive of the crime and how that same motive resonated through every level of the story.

Once the plot line of the crimes was established, what about the relationships of the characters? Again, I turned to motive and the one thing in life none of us can escape—human nature. Humans make mistakes. They celebrate victories and mourn defeats. They have desires and hopes and needs. All I had to do was ensure my characters were infinitely human and the rest would take care of itself.

Jess and Dan have a long history. They were high school sweethearts. In their forties now, they have a lot more living to do and a lot of decisions to make. There are opportunities to right wrongs in their careers and in their personal lives. The journey won’t always be easy, but they have nine more books to get it right! If you haven’t already gotten your copies of OBSESSION, IMPULSE, and POWER, the first three books in the Faces of Evil series, I hope you will. All three are available as e-books for only $2.99 each and their paperback debut for only $3.99 is March 26!

Now for the blog hop! March Madness: That time of year when women across the country are left to their own devices during the NCAA basketball playoff tournament.

Sure we could do some early spring cleaning, catch up on laundry, organize closets, and throw out all the junk in the garage/attic, but where’s the fun in that? So, instead of work, we thought we’d host our version of March Madness: A prize filled hop presented by some of the best names in romance. And we’ve made it easy for you to join in.

Simply hop from blog to blog—the links are below—and “follow”, “Like”, “Friend” etc. the authors sites then leave a comment on their blog post. Each author is running their own giveaway as well as participating in the Rafflecopter Grand-Prize Giveaway of a Kindle Fire OR Nook Color, A $50 Amazon/B&N Gift Card, A $25 Amazon/B&N Gift Card, and 6 – $10 Amazon/B&N Gift Cards, as well as a “basket” of books. The event is live from March 5 – March 31st, 2013 to give you plenty of time to tour all the sites.

Rafflecopter: (The entrant counter)
a Rafflecopter giveaway

The list of participants:

Rules: You must be 18 years or older as of 12:01AM March 5, 2013. No purchase Necessary. Avoid where prohibited. This event is open to worldwide participation (basket of books limited to US/Canada shipping address only)You are limited to one tweet, follow, like etc per day, however you can follow one blog, tweet about another, and like a 3rd’s facebook page all on the same day. Be sure to follow the rules laid out by the individual authors about their respective giveaways, as they will vary form site to site. Rules and Terms are listed in the Rafflecopter. Grand-prizes will be announced on or about April 5th, 2013 on SnSreviews.blogspot.com. While we will make every effort to contact you, it is ultimately the winner’s responsibility to check winning status and claim their prize. Posted winners will have 5 days, from the date of post to contact host and claim their respective prize. If the posted winner fails to contact host, prize may be forfeited and awarded to another randomly drawn entrant and distributed without further notice.