Faceless (Sinister Secrets Book 2) by Candle Sutton (best motivational novels txt) 📕

stretched out across the back seat.” Papers rustled across the line. “Still awaiting toxicology, but the driver’s lungs didn’t have any smoke in them. Neither did the backseat passenger.”

He absorbed that. “So, even though there was a fire, that wasn’t what killed them. Did they die on impact?”

“The driver was pretty crispy, which has made determining pre-mortem injuries a challenge, but there isn’t much damage to the skull or sternum. Certainly not what I would expect from a fatal collision.”

“A homicide.”

Percy snorted. “That’s the detective’s job, not mine. I’m only saying it was suspicious. But what I think you’ll find really interesting is the passenger. She wasn’t as charred as the driver, so I was able to see more. Like the fact that she’d recently had surgery.”

The punchline was coming. Dak could tell. It was like a game with the ME, revealing things on his own timetable in his own way.

“As I cut into her, it became obvious. Liver replacement.”

His breath caught.

This could be it. The key they’d been waiting to find.

He’d have to check local hospitals to see if any had conducted a liver replacement for the woman, but he was already certain what he’d find. “And you said there was no smoke in her lungs. So she was likely dead before the impact.”

“Again, not my job to say.”

“If you had to guess.”

Percy paused. “I’d say a fiery car crash is a convenient way to cover up a botched underground surgery.”

Dak would have to say that he agreed. “Thanks for the call. I owe you three lattes for this one.”

Percy chortled. “And you know I’ll collect.”

Ending the call, Dak shot off a group text to gather the team.

They had a new lead to track down, one that might break the case.

₪   ₪   ₪

He’d known Tio was bad with records, but this was ridiculous.

Mitch pushed away from the desk – his desk, in his office, in the building he and Tio had rented for years – and rubbed the back of his neck. The whole morning, spent going through bank records, and he still had hundreds of thousands of dollars to track down.

Given that most payments were made through electronic funds transfer, he’d probably find the bulk of it eventually.

Anything paid in cash would have to be written off. No way of tracking that.

For now, he needed a break. And a coffee. Grande size.

He poked his head into Tio’s office across the hall. “I’m headed across the street for a macchiato. You want anything?”

Tio paused. “Sure. One of those frozen coffees, with caramel.”

Mitch strode down the hallway.

No one followed. It was good to be trusted again.

He stepped into the mild July air. Fluffy white clouds filled the sky, effectively filtering the sun. The comfortable mid-seventies temperature invigorated him.

With his hands in his pockets, he crossed the parking lot, then darted across the two-lane road.

The bell dinged as he pulled open the coffee shop door.

The barista, a twenty-something with more piercings than he could count, smiled as he stepped up to the counter. “Haven’t seen you around lately.”

He pulled out his wallet. “Took a short trip out of town.”

“Cool. You want the usual?”

“You know it. Plus a frozen double with caramel.” His stomach rumbled. A glance at the clock showed it was almost lunch. “And a turkey and swiss ciabatta.”

She punched it into the computer and swiped his card. “Be right up.”

He wandered to the window and pulled out one of the chairs to wait.

The numbers he’d looked at all morning kept running through his mind.

So much money. Tio hadn’t been kidding about the potential with this.

But it was blood money. Every last cent.

He swallowed, his throat feeling like sandpaper. His breath quickened, drying his throat even further. A cough scratched out.

Wasn’t his coffee ready yet?

So a few people died. People died every day.

And like Tio said. More people lived because of those deaths.

That made their deaths worth something good. Didn’t it?

Of course it did.

Besides, he wouldn’t do this for long. He’d get a simple system set up, one so easy that even Tio could maintain it. Then he’d take his share and beat it.

Yeah. He could do this.

He’d focus on the numbers. And forget that each dollar represented the blood shed to gain it.

₪   ₪   ₪

The room buzzed.

Fresh leads generated fresh energy, an energy Kevyn could feel.

The report from the medical examiner confirmed they were on the right path.

Well, probably. In reality, it only supported their theory, but she was confident this was it. This was why people were being taken.

Why no bodies were being found.

What happened to what was left of the body was unknown. Maybe they were taken out to sea and dumped. Maybe they were burned. Maybe they were buried in some of the remote wilderness only an hour or two outside the city.

They’d probably have to catch these guys to find out for sure.

Even then, the bodies might not ever be recovered.

“Lorelei Divers is our strongest lead right now.” Dak’s voice commanded the group’s focus. “Thoughts on the best approach?”

If she knew Dak, he probably already had an idea of what he’d like to do, but that was one thing she appreciated about him. He sought input from the team.

“We could haul her in. Apply pressure.” JD smirked. “She wouldn’t do well in prison. Might be willing to cut a deal.”

“Depends on how deep she’s in.” Felicia pushed a chunk of hair out of her face. “We’re assuming she’s only a supplier. But what if she’s a partner?”

Somehow Kevyn had trouble seeing the materialistic party girl she’d spoken to last night as a calculating partner in a black-market organ operation. Lorelei Divers was an opportunist,