Looks aren’t
the only things that can be deceiving…
When a
sixty-eight-year-old woman is found dead outside the hospital in a wheelchair
with an anti-abortion sign strapped to its back, Detective Madison Knight
expects it to be an open-and-shut case. On the surface, there are no signs of
foul play, but the deeper she digs, the more convoluted the homicide becomes.
And when two more bodies appear, including those of a girl just barely old
enough to drink and a homeless man, the direct links between the three murders
are anything but simple.
Without a
consistent MO, Madison doesn’t buy that a serial killer is on the loose,
despite the conviction with which her ex-fiancé and fellow detective try to
convince their superior. But Madison already has enough to juggle without
having to defend her reputation. Debilitating flashbacks of being held hostage
by the Russian Mafia mere months before haunt her on an almost daily basis, and
the promises she made to herself while in captivity are becoming more and more
difficult to keep. Learning to trust is hard enough without constant reminders
of what destruction—fatal or otherwise—trusting the wrong person can cause.
Now, as both
personal and professional friction within the department mounts, she and her
partner, Terry, must figure out what motivation could span generations to cause
someone to murder these people. But catching this killer is like grasping at
straws, and grabbing the wrong one could mean losing not only her pride but
also her boyfriend, her credibility, and her faith in humanity…
Author Bio:
CAROLYN ARNOLD is the
international best-selling and award-winning author of the Madison Knight,
Brandon Fisher, and McKinley Mystery series. She is the only author with POLICE
PROCEDURALS RESPECTED BY LAW ENFORCEMENT.™
Carolyn was
born in a small town, but that doesn’t keep her from dreaming big. And on par
with her large dreams is her overactive imagination that conjures up killers
and cases to solve. She currently lives in a city near Toronto with her husband
and two beagles, Max and Chelsea. She is also a member of Crime Writers of
Canada.
Connect with
CAROLYN ARNOLD Online:
And don’t
forget to sign up for her newsletter for up-to-date information on release and
special offers at http://carolynarnold.net/newsletters.
Buy Links:
APPARENTLY
NOT EVEN A DEAD body could stop traffic.
Madison
scanned the three-lane, westbound stream of cars. All of the drivers had
somewhere to be. Even now, only a few braked to gawk at the investigation on
the side of the road.
Squad cars
with flashing lights cordoned off the right lane, and the officers were
diverting traffic over. This was the busiest intersection in Stiles. With a
population of about half a million, seventy-five thousand people passed through
this section every hour. Shopping plazas with franchise restaurants and grocery
stores occupied two of the four corners; the other two had health care
buildings, including one of the city’s three hospitals, the largest of which
was on the northeast side of the intersection.
Peace Liberty
Hospital sat on acres of land with chain-link fencing running its perimeter. It
was outside that fence that the deceased had been found.
Cole
Richards, the medical examiner, was working over the body as Crime Scene Unit
investigators Cynthia Baxter and Mark Andrews were busy taking pictures and
collecting anything that might be evidence.
Cynthia
headed up the crime lab. She was also Madison’s closest friend. Her strong
genetics gave her the sexy librarian look, and she had wielded that power
expertly over men until she got involved with Detective Lou Stanford of the
Stiles PD. Now she was engaged. Three months had passed since the announcement,
and Madison still hardly believed it some days.
Mark was the
only man on the forensics team and the youngest of its four members. Both
elements served to make him the target of blame and teasing. All in good fun,
of course, even if he might not think so at times. He had long, dark hair that
he tied back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. His hairstyle and other
mannerisms had most of his colleagues curious about his sexual preference. To
date, it remained an enigma.
Madison
lowered her sunglasses and took in the scene. It was midday and mid-July, and
the sun was beating down with nondiscriminatory heat.
The deceased
was an elderly woman, her identity unknown and age estimated to be in her late
sixties or early seventies. She had a short cut of gray hair and wore a T-shirt
and a skirt. She sat in a wheelchair on the side of the road, her head dipped
to her chest at an unnatural angle. That position alone would disclose to
anyone paying enough attention that she was dead.
It was a sad
state when people were too preoccupied with their busy lives to notice an
elderly woman on the side of the road like that. As it was, people would have
passed in good quantity before the jogger who had found her had come along.
His name was
Erik Marsh, and he was sitting in the back of a squad car providing his
statement to the officers who had arrived first on scene. She and Terry would
talk to him shortly. The people who found a body were always the first
suspects.
The woman’s
chair was on the grass beside the sidewalk, placing her closer to the fence
than the road. Based on her thin arms and frail frame, she would have needed
help to get there. A wooden board strapped to the back of the chair read, PUT
AN END TO ABORTION.
“Protesters
in this area are not uncommon, but what makes an older lady come out and sit in
the hot sun with a sign strapped to her?” She asked the rhetorical question of
her partner, ruminating on what brought the woman to this point.
Her partner,
Terry Grant, was three years younger than she was and her total opposite. He
loved running, and his hair was always perfect—rarely were one of his blond
hairs out of place. Madison, on the other hand, hated mornings, so she stuck
with a wake-up-and-wear-it cut. While she had a hard time making commitments,
Terry was married to his sweetheart of just over five years. Annabelle was
pregnant with their first child and due any day.
Madison
continued. “Not to mention, why would she get involved in such an issue? Her
child-birthing days are behind her.”
“She could
have faced this issue earlier in life, or maybe a family member had? She could
have been trying to keep things the way they used to be.”
“When was
abortion legalized?”
“In most
states, 1973. That would make her somewhere in her late twenties, early
thirties, if she faced the issue herself.” Terry pulled his phone out and
poised a finger over the screen. Despite Madison’s desire that he take notes on
a lined pad, like other cops, he was adamant about embracing technology. His
hardheaded determination was paying off, though, as his texting speed was
improving.
“There’s no
way she came alone. Someone must’ve brought her here. But was she dead when
they dropped her off, or did she die sitting in this heat? My grandmother
always wore a hat on a hot day.” She paced a few steps and brainstormed aloud.
“I don’t think this woman chose to come here.”
“Good
deduction,” Cole Richards stated matter-of-factly.
It was the
only way Richards talked to her these days. Madison’s friendship with him used
to be one based upon mutual respect, but things had changed when she questioned
his ruling on a prior case. From there, she had dug into his personal past. If
she could go back and change things she would.
Richards
continued. “Her forearms show bruising to indicate she was in a struggle, but
the cause of death still needs to be determined.”
Madison’s
gaze fell to the woman’s wrists, marred in hues of purple. Heat surged through
her, the fire of adrenaline blending with rage.
Richards’s
dark skin pinched around his eyes as he squinted in the bright sun. “Based on
the coloring of the contusions, they happened around the time of death.”
“And when was
that?”
“I estimate
time of death between twelve and eighteen hours ago. Her body is in full
rigor.”
“You can’t
narrow it down any more than that?” Madison asked.
Richards
shook his head. “Liver temp will be off given the heat. I’ll know more once I
get her back to the morgue and conduct a full autopsy.”
“When will
that be?”
He shrugged.
“I’ll let you know.”
Madison
nodded. “So you don’t think she died here?” She hoped his answer would instill
some faith in humanity. Surely if she’d been here for that length of time,
someone would have seen her before Marsh.
“Again, I’ll
let you know.”
“What about
lividity? Doesn’t it tell you anything?” Terry asked.
Lividity was
the settlement, or pooling, of blood in the body after death. If it showed in
the woman’s buttocks and the backs of her thighs, she would have died in a
sitting position. But that would’ve only told them she’d died in her chair, not
her actual location.
“I’ll let you
know once I conduct the autopsy. As for where she died, I will leave
that up to you to determine.” Richards signaled for his assistant, Milo, to
come with the stretcher and body bag. Sadness always soured Madison’s gut when
the black plastic came out, ready to wrap the dead in its dark cocoon.
Being out of my reading element, Deadly Impulse was a first for me. It opened up a world of reality that could be already existing and it is a bit frightening...and I love it! Ms. Arnold has created such a strong and independent character in Madison. Since I have not had the pleasure of reading the first book in the Madison Knight Series, I am more than positive that the character has grown. And just my luck... the first in this series is FREE!!
Deadly Impulse will have your heart pounding and on the edge of your seat. Be warned though...you will get sucked in and you might even finish it in one sitting.
I'm glad to hear you enjoyed DEADLY IMPULSE. Thank you for taking the time to read and review. :)
ReplyDelete