The Dark Places by R. Whitfield (novel24 TXT) 📕

The barman smiled at her with pity, a look she truly hated and rarely received. At five-foot-eleven with long, straight blonde hair, blue eyes, and a body that modelled her way through college, looks of jealously were the only looks she was used to receiving.

“You OK, sweetie?” The barman asked genuinely.

“Fine,” she replied curtly. “Scotch and dry, please.”

“Coming right up,” he said as he started preparing her drink.

She turned from the bar and searched for a table in a dark corner where she could wallow in self-pity for a while, and that’s when she saw Grayson. Tall, dark-haired, obviously fit, wearing a long-sleeved shirt with a tie undone and hanging loosely around his neck.

“Fuck self-pity,” she murmured, paid for her drink and made her way over. “Can I sit here?” she asked innocently. He looked up from his drink.

“Be my guest,” he stated gruffly.

She sat down, placed her glass on the table and smiled. “You look like you’re having a rough night,” she stated.

He looked up at her again, taking in her wet clothing, bare feet and the mascara running down her cheeks. “You don’t look like you’re having a lot of luck either,” he replied with a sad smile.

“Oh, my story is simple. Work is screwing me, my car is screwing me, and now the weather is even screwing me, and you?” She gestured towards him.

“Well, since you so kindly asked.” He shifted in his seat and looked up at her. His eyes were bloodshot and bared large dark circles; he had the look of a man with a lot on his mind. “My fiancée isn’t screwing me,” and with that, he picked up his tumbler and drained it dry.

“Well then, my name is Madison, and you are?”

“Grayson,” he replied, taking her hand in a business-like shake.

“Nice to meet you, Grayson. Now, we can sit in here, and you can tell me what your nasty girlfriend is doing to you, and I can sob over my career that’s going nowhere, or we can leave now and finally do some screwing of our own.” She watched as the reality of what she was offering finally registered on his shocked face.

“My girlfriend isn’t nasty, and I love her, it’s just—” He ran his hands through his thick hair.

“Save it, Grayson, honestly I’m not interested. This is called a one-night stand. I will never see you again, and she will never, ever know. Are you coming?” With that, she finished off her glass and placed it on the table. The remaining ice clinked together softly. Standing, she reached out her hand. “Well?”

It only took three seconds for him to reach for her and follow her out of the bar.

I don’t care who you are or who your future wife is, she thought. Tomorrow morning, it will be like tonight never, ever happened.

God, how wrong she was. Head in her hands, Madison recalled the events that followed and ultimately ruined her budding career as a crime reporter: surprise, anger, regret, apologies, even begging and eventually being escorted out of Grayson’s house at gunpoint. Afterwards, the “one-night stand that she would never think about again” started haunting her every day of her life.

Cops are like one big family, a very loyal, very protective family. The few detectives and uniforms she had worked on for months to be her source when cases broke, totally black-listed her once word got around. She couldn’t even get into the precinct’s main reception without dodging hostile looks and head shakes from every single person in the department. Even Nicole, the receptionist, who she used to have martinis with on a Thursday, wouldn’t answer her calls. She almost completely gave up on crime reporting until she heard about the Serenity Towers murder, situated in a completely different district from Detective Elliott’s. Finally, she might get a break. Driving her Pulsar at the speed of light, which was actually around fifty miles per hour, the car’s top speed, she made it to Brecken Ridge. It was ridiculously easy to talk her way into the lobby, and once there, she spotted the local cops. These two looked like they had never set eyes on a woman before, they had however seen their fair share of Krispy Kremes. This will be easy, she thought. Sure, Brecken Ridge was no metropolitan area, but crime was crime, right? Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Surin Elliott marching over from the elevators, the wrath of God burning in her eyes. Fuck, she had immediately thought and gathered herself for an onslaught of abuse that never came.

Sighing, she closed over her laptop. Surin Elliott. The biggest mistake of Madison’s life was unknowingly crossing that woman. Standing, she held the chair and twisted from side to side, her back cracked delightfully, sending relief cascading down her limbs. She glanced out the window at the night sky. Come to think of it, what exactly was Detective Elliott doing there? From what she gathered before being interrupted, it was a plain garden-variety homicide. This might be an angle, she thought, and felt the rush of adrenalin begin to course through her veins like it always did when she had a hunch. She also mustn’t forget Surin’s new partner, the extremely attractive Detective Parker Rhodes. She grinned to herself. There might be a way back in after all.

9

Parker looked at the list they had made before them.

Emma, Kara, Jessica and Eva. All beautiful young college girls. He had to admit that the resemblance between them was striking, but as far as connections went, it was flimsy at best.

“Emma was found over seven years ago, Surin. Jessica was found less than twelve months ago in a completely different state. If it is the same killer, where has he been all this time? Why the wait?” He looked up at Surin, who was studying