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Sisters Writing Crime
Category:
Action/Thriller
Publisher: Independent
Type: Fiction
Pages: 300
Copyright: November, 2024
Price: $4.99 (eBook)
A neighbor’s fear triggers an investigation—unmasking a chameleon serial killer who preys on lonely women.
Homicide Police Captain Chance O’Brien and FBI Agent Macy Adams dive into the case, only to discover the killer is closer than they ever imagined.
Shadows of Disguise thrusts Chance O’Brien into a puzzling investigation when his mother, Nina Lennon, asks him and his wife, Macy, to talk to her next-door neighbor, who is convinced her daughter has been murdered.
Though limited by jurisdiction, Chance and Macy offer to help. As they navigate a maze of clues and hidden dangers, they realize a serial killer is on the prowl.
The investigation takes a chilling turn when the neighbor they were helping is assaulted in her own home next to Nina’s, intensifying the urgency of the hunt.
With the Houston PD and the FBI now involved, Macy and Chance must race against time to uncover the truth as they become targets themselves. With their family’s safety hanging in the balance, they must delve deeper into a world of deception and danger.
Shadows of Disguise is a pulse-pounding tale of suspense that will keep readers on the edge of their seats. Macy and Chance are determined to unravel the web of lies and deceit before it’s too late. Join them as they confront a relentless serial killer.
Grab your copy now and immerse yourself in a gripping thriller that will leave you breathless.
Excerpt
Shadows of Disguise
© Charlene Tess and Judi thompson
Chapter One
Flames devoured the warped and rusted metal of the older model Chevy and painted the night with flickers of orange and red.
Glass popped and shattered in the intense heat as emergency crews did their best to extinguish the fire. Two firefighters turned away from the crash scene, and neither gave voice to the horrible realization that the occupant of the car was most assuredly dead.
Indiana State Police Sergeant Tim Bloodworth stood looking down at the distraught man sitting with his legs out on the driver’s side of his car. A medic had bandaged one of Albert Richer’s hands, and his face was smudged with tear-soaked gray soot.
“I know this is hard, Mr. Richer, but can you go over what happened one more time?”
He sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve. “My wife left to get us something for dinner. She told me she would fix something, but I said no because it was so late. I said I’d make a run to the fast-food place, but she insisted she would go because I was tired.”
He raked the fingers of his unbandaged hand through his hair. “I’d been working on my book all day. I’m a professor like my wife is … oh, God help me … I mean, was. She was a professor.” Fat tears ran down his face, and he sobbed. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”
Bloodworth put his hand on the other man’s shoulder and said, “Okay, so she went out to get dinner. Had she been drinking or taking any drugs?”
“Only one glass of wine. Same as me. She wasn’t impaired. I would never have let her drive if she was impaired. She didn’t take drugs, except for allergies, I think.”
“You think?” Bloodworth said, wondering if Richer was protecting his wife.
“Betsie is, I mean, she was a private person, and we’ve only been married a few weeks. We’re still learning about each other.”
“How did you discover she was in an accident?”
“I got worried when she was gone so long, so I called her, but she didn’t answer. I should have insisted on being the one to go get dinner. When I jumped in my car to look for her, I came upon …” He took in great gulps of air, and his eyes widened in horror. “You know what I saw.”
“I need you to tell me, Mr. Richer, if you could, please.”
“I saw the flames when I turned the corner. The car was off the road and upside down, completely engulfed in fire. I ran down the embankment, but it was impossible to get close to her. The flames leaped at me. They were vicious, and the smoke was so thick I couldn’t breathe. It was so hot, too hot, and I couldn’t get her out. I was screaming. People stopped up on the road, and someone called 911. My poor, poor Betsie. My love.”
“Is that how you burned your hand?”
Looking down in confusion, he said in a quivering voice, “Yes, I reached for the door handle, but it was too hot, and someone pulled me back. When I saw her—it was horrible.” He looked past the gathering crowd and spoke to the heavens. “How did this happen? She was such a careful driver.”
“It appears she swerved to miss something in the road and slid down the embankment into a tree. Somehow, the car caught on fire.”
“Isn’t that unusual? Is it because the car is old? Betsie loved it and didn’t want to trade it in.” Tears streamed down his face as he said, “I should have insisted. This is all my fault, both the dinner and the car. What will I do without her?” He raked his hands over his eyes again. “Where will you take her? Where will you take my Betsie?”
“Since this is a small town, the ambulance will take her to the local funeral home. The coroner will determine the need for an autopsy. Where can I reach you if I have more questions?”
Richer gave him his number and home address, then put his head in his hands and sank back into the seat.
Bloodworth clasped the bereaved man’s shoulder. “I’m truly sorry for your loss.” Then Bloodworth stepped out of the car and spoke to a nearby patrolman. “Take this man home and get someone to follow you in his car. I’ve been married for over thirty years. I can’t imagine losing my wife, much less in such a horrific manner. My heart aches for the poor guy. Such a terrible, terrible accident.”
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