Broken (48 page)
Authors: Vanessa Skye
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Also Available from Vanessa Skye
The Enemy Inside
The Edge of Darkness Series
Book One
While exploring darkness in others, be careful not to expose your own.
That’s what Chicago detective Alicia Raymond discovers when she’s assigned to investigate the gruesome torture and murder of a middle-aged trucker with a horrible secret.
Before she can get a lead on one crime, however, the bodies start piling up and Alicia, better known as Berg, finds herself the unexpected target of the very same legal system she has dedicated her life to.
While simultaneously under attack from a formidable past, an enemy that seems to know too much, and a conniving killer, Berg is forced to confront her own darkness: her obsessive need to track down killers at the expense of everything else in her life; her increasing craving for violence just to feel normal; and her potentially devastating feelings for her partner, the charming and handsome Detective Inspector Jay O’Loughlin.
The more Berg works her original case, the more she learns about the sheer viciousness of the trucker’s past, and the more she questions if his murderer should even be punished by a justice system that only seems determined to free the guilty. When she also finds herself sympathizing with a sadistic butcher exacting revenge for a decades-old crime, she realizes the most dangerous secret of all might just be her own state of mind.
While Berg struggles with her morality, a killer is determined to recruit her and use her for a devastating end game.
As Berg’s carefully constructed life falls apart and she struggles to maintain a grip on reality, she faces a choice: surrender to the evil inside or finally acknowledge the brutal past she would rather bury.
The Enemy Inside
is the first in the
Edge of Darkness
series, which challenges the concept of justice, asks if vengeance sometimes justifies murder, and explores whether you can ever heal from a broken past.
http://ph.thewriterscoffeeshop.com/books/detail/94
About the Author
Vanessa Skye has always had a love of words and spent her school years writing poetry, speeches, and fictional essays.
After completing a Bachelor of Arts in print journalism and studying psychology at Charles Sturt University, Vanessa got a job at Australia’s largest publisher of regional and agricultural news and information, Rural Press, where she worked as a journalist in the central west of New South Wales for four years.
Thousands of stories later, Vanessa decided to move back to Sydney and try her hand at public relations while studying for a master’s degree in communication.
Skip forward a few years and Vanessa was once again joyfully studying various psychology subjects while managing a Sydney public relations firm. Enthralled with examining the motivations behind people’s actions, Vanessa realized what she really wanted to do in life was combine her love of words with her fascination for human behavior. So Vanessa quit public relations to begin the significantly more impoverished life of a professional writer.
Inspired by a recurring dream, Vanessa wrote her crime fiction debut,
The Enemy Inside
, which challenges the concept of justice, asks if the need for vengeance sometimes justifies murder, and explores whether you can ever heal from childhood abuse.
Broken
is her second book in this series. In her spare time, Vanessa wrote a short story,
The Piece
, which was published in February 2012, by Dark Prints Press as a part of the ‘One That Got Away’ dark fiction anthology.
Vanessa now works as a freelance writer, lives in Sydney’s northern beaches, and tries to immerse herself in salt water at least once a day.
Acknowledgments
Last time, I thanked all my wonderful family and friends who continue to be amazingly supportive during this latest go-round with Jay and Berg. This time, I would also like to thank the amazing team at TWCS who whip my books into readable shape.
To DJ who is the best editor ever and understands my characters and loves them just as much as I do. I’m keeping you!
To the marketing team who work tirelessly to promote my books in what is a very difficult market to cut through. Your continuing professionalism and dedication blow me away daily.
To the acquisitions team who took a chance on a new author despite what I’m sure were many reservations. I hope I don’t let you down.
And finally, to the other would-be writers out there--getting published was a seven-year process for me and an exercise in extreme patience. So please, always remember to love what you do and never give up because I believe in you.
The Edge of Darkness Series
Book Three
Blood Lines
Prologue
Young police cadet, Alicia Raymond, watched as her mother, Mary Raymond, raged hysterically at the funeral home attendant.
“What do you mean, he was cremated?” she shrieked, almost losing her balance. “Those are not the instructions I gave!”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but your husband was cremated yesterday, under your instructions. I spoke to you on the phone myself,” he said, his hands outstretched towards Mrs. Raymond as if trying not to inflame the obviously drunken woman in front of him. “Don’t you remember?”
Alicia felt sorry for the poor guy. Trying to calm her mother down now was pointless. She had been trying in vain to do the same since thing she could talk. By speaking, the attendant only made the situation worse.
Mary tried to focus on his face. “No, I do not! I have come here to pick up my husband’s body today. I have a plot all picked out at Greenhills cemetery, right next to mine!”
The attendant blanched as Mary’s breath hit his face, then sighed and crossed his arms. “I can release his cremains to you today, ma’am, and you can still bury him,” he said and glanced in Alicia’s direction.
She watched as he eyed her appreciatively and she returned the favor. He was a tall man, maybe in his early forties, with thick brown hair and deep brown eyes, much like Alicia’s own, punctuated with heavy brows. His last name was Rollings, but he definitely had the dark coloring of a man of Italian or Greek descent. She caught the smirk and raised eyebrow as he stared at her long legs encased in tight blue jeans.
Berg waited until he finally made his way back to her face and she nodded.
Maybe later, as a reward for doing such a good job.
Mary raged on, oblivious to her daughter and the attendant’s mutual attraction. “He was Jewish! He didn’t want to be cremated, it was against his beliefs!” she shrieked.
Alicia smiled slightly at the revelation that the bastard would rest uncomfortably for eternity.
An added bonus
.
“Ma’am,” the man said and ice creeped into his inflection. “I cannot un-cremate a man. What’s done is done.”
“Well, you can guarantee I’ll be suing this funeral home, not to mention you personally,” Mary replied, trying to shove her index finger into the man’s chest, but missing and poking his shoulder instead. “This is a gross injustice! How dare you cremate my husband against his wishes!”
The attendant produced a folded piece of paper from his inner suit pocket and held it under Mary’s nose. “Is this your fax number?” He pointed to the digits at the top of the page.
Mary lost her balance for a moment as she tried to squint at the numerals.
Alicia caught her and held her arm until she steadied herself again.
Mary’s eyes widened. Even in her drunken state, she clearly recognized the number of her new fax machine, the machine she was so proud of as she was the first of her rich friends to get the latest, smaller model. “Yes. But—”
“And is this your signature at the bottom of the cremation order?” he asked, as if he were addressing a small child.
“It looks like it. But I did not sign that! I would never—”
“Ma’am, I hate to point out the obvious, but yes, you did. I distinctly remember speaking to you yesterday and you ordering his cremation immediately. You paid with your credit card over the phone—here’s the receipt!” He showed her the yellow credit card docket.
“I do not remember doing any such thing!” Mary cried. She covered her mouth to stifle a sob.
The man arched one dark brow. “Well, madam, you wouldn’t, would you? If you smelled anything like you do today, yesterday!” He turned on his heel and left them alone.
This time, Berg’s smile was impossible to stifle.
Oh, yeah.
Definitely later.
Mary sagged against her daughter as she cried.
Alicia gently steered her towards the door, smirking to herself.
You don’t get though three years of foster care without learning how to forge a signature or two.
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