FREE PREVIEW OF THE FIRST TWO CHAPTERS…
CHAPTER 1 – The Book on the Train
The train rumbled beneath rookie Detective Samantha Kane, a steady rhythm that vibrated through the soles of her boots and up into her shoulders. Outside the window, the city of Charlotte sprawled in a blur of glass, brick, and steel. Morning sunlight sliced through the high-rises, casting long beams over the streets below.
Conversations murmured in the LYNX light railcar, blending with the occasional squeal of brakes as the train slowed at each stop. The car was a microcosm of urban life, a tapestry of diverse faces and unspoken stories. With her sharp eyes and petite build, Samantha blended into the mosaic of commuters, keeping her detective’s badge nestled beneath her coat, concealed from casual glances.
But Samantha wasn’t in the bustling city. She was somewhere else, lost in the pages of a novel opened on her lap. The words pulled her into another world… a much darker one, into the mind of its haunting narrator, a man with a taste for meticulous murder.
I’ve chosen my hunting ground carefully, a stretch of forest outside the city where no one comes after dark. The trails are overgrown, the trees thick and looming, their bare branches clawing at the moonlight. It’s quiet here, except for the crunch of dead leaves beneath her heels and the occasional rustle of something unseen in the underbrush. It’s perfect.
Samantha adjusted her position in her seat. She sensed the night’s chill and heard the woman’s hurried footsteps as she went along the path. The killer’s voice in the novel was dispassionate, devoid of the usual clichés that peppered crime thrillers. It wasn’t a caricature of evil…it was cold, methodical, and calculated.
She’s nervous. I can tell by how she keeps glancing over her shoulder; her pace quickens every few steps. Does she sense me? Maybe, but it doesn’t matter. I sealed her fate the moment I chose her.
The narrator described how he followed her at a distance, carefully keeping his steps light, blending with the natural sounds of the woods.
She pauses at the fork in the trail, unsure which direction to take. Her hesitation is delicious. I step closer, my hand brushing the knife’s handle tucked inside my jacket. The blade is small but precise. It’s all I need. She decides on the left path, the darker one, and I suppress a smile. A poor choice, but then again, she never really had a choice.
Samantha shifted in her seat, the tension building as the narrator stalked his prey.
I close the distance swiftly, silently. Her head turns as I lunge, but it’s too late. My hand clamps over her mouth, muffling the scream that rises from her throat. The knife slides into her side with the ease of a key turning in a lock.
Her body jerks, then goes limp, and I lower her gently to the ground. It’s over in seconds. Efficient. Artful.
A chill ran down Samantha’s spine as she read. It wasn’t the gruesome description but the stark and clinical details of the narrator’s detachment that made it unsettling.
I leave her there, crumpled in the dirt like a discarded doll. The woods will keep her hidden for now, but not forever. When she’s found, the story will begin, and I’ll watch it unfold like a play I’ve seen a hundred times. That’s the part I enjoy most. The aftermath, the chaos, the fear. That’s what makes it worth it.
The train’s brakes screeched, jolting Samantha from the twisted narrative. She blinked, disoriented, as the real world rushed back into focus. Outside the window, her stop had arrived.
She tossed the book in her bag, threw it over her shoulder, and departed at the stop. Commuters filled the bustling platform; their voices mixed with the city’s sounds. With a click- clack of polished boots on the pavement, Samantha navigated the crowd to reach her precinct station.
She didn’t know it, but the scene she’d just read was soon to become real.
The sun shone on the steel and glass front of the Charlotte Police Department’s Center City Headquarters, standing tall ahead. The usual aromas of coffee, paper, and disinfectant greeted Samantha as she entered through the revolving doors.
A hive of activity greeted her in the lobby, with officers, civilians, and the occasional courier rushing through with folders. Samantha climbed the stairs to her third-floor area and placed her bag on the chair of her small corner desk by a window.
Her eyes fell upon a framed picture of her father, his broad smile captured forever, a week before he had died, when she was two. The photo showed his gleaming chest badge, a persistent reminder of her life’s decision to join the force.
An unusual chaos filled her floor this morning. While it wasn’t uncommon for conversations to occur, an undercurrent of recent activity had heightened the attention of her fellow homicide detectives, who were awaiting the daily briefing.
Grinning as always, Jack Riggs leaned against her desk, mug in hand, and said, “Mornin’, Rookie.” His salt-and-pepper hair and rugged face bore the signs of decades on the force as his sharp brown eyes looked on with curiosity.
Jack Riggs was a fixture in the detective ranks, having served the City of Charlotte since graduating from high school nearly forty years ago.
Samantha replied, “Morning, Jack,” and shrugged off her black leather jacket, draping it over the chair. As the precinct buzzed around her, she sat down and started up her laptop.
“How was your weekend?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Same as always. Spent it working out,” she said, pulling her notepad from her bag.
Laughter escaped Jack’s lips. “Every day, huh? I wish they sold your energy in bottles; I’d buy a gallon. What were ya up to this time? Sparrin’? Kickin’ bags in half?”
“That’s close,” Samantha smirked. “I practiced kata on Saturday. It’s a fine-tuning technique. One of my brothers and I sparred on Sunday.”
“Oh, yeah? That’s the ex-Marine, right? Or is it the dojo brother?”
“Both,” she replied, leaning back in her chair. “But only Nate showed up to spar. Luke chickened out. He said he didn’t want to risk a black eye before his class.”
Riggs let out a hearty laugh. “Can’t blame him. A fourth- degree black belt like you? You probably leave bruises with your shadow.”
Samantha shrugged, but there was a hint of pride in her smile. “It’s not about leaving bruises. It’s about control. Training keeps me sharp. Besides, I’ve been doing this since I could walk. It’s just part of who I am.”
“That’s right… ya started young, didn’t ya? Followin’ your brothers into martial arts. Bet that made for an interestin’ childhood.”
“It was,” she said, glancing at her father’s photo staged between two pictures of her Taekwondo and Karate Youth World Championships taken one year apart. “After Dad died, martial arts became our way of coping. It gave us structure, something to focus on. It also helped with my anger management issues… at least that’s what my therapist says.”
Sam lifted a sly smile at Riggs and continued. “I stuck with it for the past twenty years because I loved the discipline. It challenges me, and I feel in control.”
“Discipline,” Riggs echoed, shaking his head with a grin. “That’s the word you always use. Makes the rest of us feel lazy.”
“It’s not about making anyone else feel lazy,” she said, laughing. “It’s about pushing myself. Besides, it’s useful in this line of work.”
“Useful? That’s an understatement. You could probably take down half this precinct in a hand-to-hand fight.”
Samantha’s grin widened. “Don’t tell them that. I enjoy being underestimated.”
Riggs grinned, leaning closer. “Smart. Let ‘em think you’re just a five-foot-four bookworm with the looks of a model… then, when they least expect it… bam! You take ‘em out with a spinnin’ kick.”
“Only if they deserve it,” Samantha said with a wink.
Jack raised his mug in a mock toast. “Remind me never to deserve it. Come on, Rookie. The chief’s about to start the mornin’ briefin’. Let’s see if today’s cases are excitin’ enough to get ya out from behind this desk.”
As they made their way across the floor, Samantha couldn’t help but feel a flicker of excitement. Her martial arts training had taught her to embrace challenges head-on. She sensed one coming her way, as her two-month probationary period had ended the previous week.
It wasn’t her fault for the probation, but as she explained to the Chief, the suspect deserved his slap for grabbing her ass. But policy is policy, especially with an entire floor of witnesses.
The briefing room was a stark contrast to the lively lobby with its order. Corkboards covered in pinned maps, crime scene photos, and various notes scrawled in red marker encircled the room. Samantha slid into a seat beside Riggs.
She scanned the room. At twenty-five, she was the youngest in the homicide detective ranks, having excelled in her training. With a gnawing need for a case assignment, Sam wanted to prove herself more than just Detective Jack Kane’s daughter, as this was the perception that had led to her promotion at such a young age.
Chief Ed Murphy took his place, standing at the front of the room.
“First order of business,” Murphy said, his deep voice cutting through the room’s chatter as he advanced slides on the large video monitor in the front of the room. A young woman’s lifeless body filled the screen, her surroundings a wooded trail. The new case had caused the heated discussions earlier on the floor.
“Victim found just before sunrise this morning in McAlpine Creek Park. No ID yet, but early twenties, dressed for a night out. Cause of death was sharp-force trauma to the left side. Initial evidence suggests the attacker approached from behind. No signs of a struggle.”
Samantha listened, taking in the evidence.
“Police discovered drag marks leading into the woods at the crime scene. In an isolated area, away from the trail, investigators found the victim’s body. Judging by the condition of the site, this was a premeditated act. The weapon appears to be a small, narrow blade. No sign of robbery… wallet and phone were untouched.”
Samantha’s blood ran cold. The description… the setting, the victim, the weapon… had an unnerving familiarity. She gripped her pen tighter, her thoughts shifting to the book she’d been reading on the train.
Her martial arts training taught her to exhale, relax, and focus.
Come on, she thought. That’s a common trope in those types of novels. Remote trails, knives, and ambushes… authors have used them a hundred times before.
The similarity amused her more than anything.
Some overworked author had probably pulled those details from the headlines that inspired cases like this. There’s nothing strange about it.
“This one’s yours, Riggs,” Murphy said. “Take Kane with you. She’s overdue for a real case… and Kane, don’t be roughin’ up anyone too much out there.”
Laughter rippled across the briefing room as Jack nudged her. “Looks like you’re movin’ up, Rook.”
Samantha forced a smile, pushing the thought aside. Coincidence, she told herself. Nothing more. Jack clapped her shoulder. “Grab your notepad. Let’s get to work.
She nodded, pushing aside the eerie feeling that settled in her chest. Coincidence or not, this was her chance to prove herself.
Little did she know that the boundaries between fiction and reality were to blur as a new case unfolded. A cryptic killer, leaving behind a trail of enigmatic clues, mirroring the pages of her unfinished novel resting inside her bag.
Detective Kane stepped out of the unmarked police car, the cool air biting against her skin. She zipped up her jacket, her eyes scanning the park entrance where strips of yellow crime scene tape cordoned off the area. Officers and CSI agents replaced the usual group of joggers and dog walkers, their movements methodical and subdued.
CHAPTER 2 – AT THE PARK
McAlpine Creek Park stretched before them. Its urban forest and long dirt pathways were in stark contrast to the busy streets of uptown. The dense canopy of trees filtered the mid-morning sun into fragmented patches of light on the ground. The faint rustle of leaves in the wind did little to mask the buzz of activity at the crime scene.
“First time out in the field?” Riggs asked, closing the car door with ease.
She glanced at him, her auburn hair catching the sunlight. “First time on a murder scene.”
“Brace yourself,” he said. “It’s always a little jarrin’, no matter how many ya’ve seen.”
Sam nodded, saying nothing, and followed him toward the cluster of investigators near the trailhead. A few turned in their direction, offering nods of acknowledgment before returning to their tasks.
The lead CSI, Detective Lisa Hodge, looked up from her crouched position and greeted them with a quick nod. “You must be Kane?”
“That’s me,” Samantha said, glancing at the disturbed ground.
“They’ve already transported the body,” Hodge said, standing and dusting her hands on her pants. “We didn’t find any evidence of a weapon. There are drag marks in multiple locations.”
Sam took a step closer, crouching near the drag marks. The dirt was scuffed, leaves scattered, as though someone had obscured their trail.
“Any footprints?” Riggs asked, his voice steady.
Hodge shook her head. “Not clear enough to be useful. Ground’s too hard in some spots… and there’s been too much contamination from passersby before the scene was secured.”
Riggs grunted. “Figures. Anythin’ else?”
“Nothing definitive,” Hodge said. “We’re still processing, but it’s pretty clean. The perpetrator showed knowledge of what they were doing.”
Samantha straightened, her gaze sweeping the surroundings. The trees loomed tall, their shadows stretching over the trail. It was quiet, except for the low rumble of conversations among the investigators. Her eyes landed on a stray earring glittering in the dirt. A single, delicate piece likely missed by its owner in the chaos of her final moments.
“She wasn’t dressed for this,” Sam said aloud, more to herself than anyone else.
“What do ya mean?”
Sam gestured toward the trail and then back to the clearing. “This is a park. People come here to jog or walk their dogs. But based on the victim’s outfit…” She trailed off, recalling this morning’s briefing. “It doesn’t add up. A short, sequined dress?
Heels? That’s not what you’d wear in the park, especially not at night.”
Riggs tilted his head, considering her comments. “Yeah, dressed like that, she was here for somethin’ other than a walk. It could be a scorned lover. Or a workin’ girl meetin’ a client.”
“But something about that doesn’t sit right. If it was personal, why not somewhere more private? And if she was meeting someone, it’s too isolated. Too risky.”
He slowly sipped from his coffee thermos. “Fair point, but I’ve seen this play out before. Sometimes, people don’t think. Perhaps the killer assumed no one would be here.”
Sam’s eyes drifted to the trail again, her mind working through the possibilities. “It feels… calculated,” she said. “She was brought here for a reason… and left here for a reason.”
Riggs sighed, folding his arms. “You think it’s somethin’ bigger?”
“I don’t know yet,” Samantha admitted. “But it doesn’t feel random.”
He held up his hands. “Look, Sam, sometimes the simplest answer is the right one. A lot of these cases boil down to passion or desperation. That’s why I’m leanin’ toward the scorned lover angle. Seen it too many times not to.”
Sam was unconvinced. The scene nagged at her, little details that didn’t quite make sense.
The sound of rustling returned their attention to the CSI team, combing through the underbrush with gloved hands. Sam watched them for a moment before turning to Riggs.
“Mind if I check the perimeter?” she asked.
“Knock ya self out,” he said. “But stay within the tape.”
She explored the edge of the cordoned area, her boots crunching on fallen leaves. Her mind replayed the details from the briefing, overlaying them with the chilling narrative from the book she’d been reading that morning. The similarities were striking, but she pushed the thought aside.
It was just a coincidence; she told herself again.
Wasn’t it?
The crisp air filled her lungs as she scanned the woods, her eyes sharp and searching. No new clues emerged, but her gut told her this was only the beginning.
Riggs’s voice called her back to the trail. “Let’s wrap it up for now, Sam. We’ve got enough to piece this together.”
Sam stepped beside him, her mind still turning over the puzzle as they returned to the car.
