Just when you think you've got it all figured out; a twist turns the story on its head.
When the remains of a disfigured body turns up in the backwoods of Virginia, FBI Special Agent Jack Stanwick is once again summoned. This was now the third victim recovered with unusual physical characteristics, and with most of the brotherhood away on another high-profile case, he needed some outside help, and knew who to enlist. Jack knocked on the front door of the Davenport Detective Agency where three ex-cops, Bren Williams, Derek O'Rourke and Russ Munroe are employed by former police chief, Raymond Davenport. Once hired, the detectives focus their attention on the militia group, M.A.G.O.C. (Men Against Government Overtaking Control), and find that several members along with the aid of a high-ranking official in the White House, are involved in a governmental conspiracy. Digging further, the detectives come upon Prescott Chemicals, where an elixir that was discovered in the Amazon Rainforest by the Mayapo natives years before, is now being transformed into a formula with irreversible consequences. While investigating the chemical plant, they accidentally come into contact with the adulterated solution and experience a change to their bodies and minds, causing some unusual yet permanent issues. As the detectives gain control over their new attributes, their strategy emerges. With the assistance of a beautiful newspaper journalist, Simone Wellington, they discover the perpetrators and uncover a plot of betrayal, and a secret which affects one detective; altering his life.
Excerpt
Chapter 1
Sirens echoed in the distance as Jack Stanwick entered the rural town of Rockfort, Virginia. There had been another discovery and the local boys were claiming jurisdiction…but the Bureau had their own ideas and were about to pull rank. After slicing through the necessary red-tape and securing the needed sanctions, FBI Director Gordon Weaver issued an order to survey the tragedy and retrieve all remnants from Granite’s Mill.
With hardly a resident looking his way, Jack hastened through the four-way stop and hurried up Old Gulch Road. The car gained speed and careened along the crushed-stone route as loose gravel struck the bottom like a hail of bullets. All the while, the screeching cry of police horns blared louder with each impending tread and put him on high alert. As the adrenaline surged, he raced over a hill and caught sight of the glaring flares which inflamed his path and immediately improved his view. The crime scene was now visible.
Jack pulled ahead of the pack of scattered cars. He shut the engine off, peered out the windshield, and eyed the disarray of yellow police tape encircling the crime scene. All the grave facial expressions gave weight to what lie just ahead. He reached over to unlock the glove compartment and removed a mini-recording device. He pushed the corresponding buttons and cleared his throat, then spoke in a deep and sturdy voice, “This is FBI Special Agent, Jack Stanwick. It’s Monday, the twenty-seventh of October at exactly…” He looked at his watch then continued logging the rest of his statement. When finished, he shut off the gadget and shoved it into his jacket pocket.
He unbuckled his seatbelt and thrust the car door open. Jack emerged from his car and was overtaken by a brisk wind that stiffened his face and stirred his spine. He quickly zipped up his jacket and advanced toward the group of men who were gathered around as if in a football huddle. One of the local cops approached him.
“You must be the FBI agent?” Out came a hand. “I’m Deputy Morton Talbot.”
Jack grasped it. He noticed how the gun holster hung loosely around the deputy’s waist, seemingly held up by a uniform that was one size too big.
“You got here mighty quick.”
“Yeah, I drove like a banshee.” Jack turned and stuck his head between the congregated men. “Why’s everybody just standing here?” He looked down at a body that was partially covered with leaves.
“We don’t want to touch anything until Chief McAllister gets here.”
Jack pulled his head out from the group. “Where is he?”
“The chief’s on his way up from Gallagher County. He’s been visiting his brother over the weekend.” The deputy looked at his watch. “He should be here any minute.”
Jack was raised to be respectful but also knew cops from the South played by their own set of rules. If things weren’t done their way, an investigation could come to a screeching halt and critical clues would be lost. “I take it you haven’t started processing the crime scene? His eyes squinted. “You know, crucial evidence is disintegrating.”
“Like I said before, we’re waiting for the chief.”
Realizing the jig...a name he called the dance, Jack prepared for another whirl. “You can initiate things. Aren’t you second in command?” He wanted to plant the seed.
“Ah…yeah―”
“Where’s the CSI team?”
“Right behind you―”
Jack spun his head around and noticed they were from Richmond. “C’mon, people, you can at least take pictures.” He pointed down. “I need those tire marks cast.”
Nobody moved.
“Damn it!” His body wrenched. “Where’s the camera? I’ll start this investigation, myself.”
“Oh, no ya’ won’t,” bellowed a loud, crass voice. The man bustled his way through the crowd. “This here’s my case that happened in my county that happened in my state.”
Jack stood in the presence of the South’s Wyatt Earp. He was a short, portly dynamo. Stuffed in an old suit with cowboy boots, he looked like a real hellcat. “You must be Chief Denton McAllister?”
“You’d be right.”
“I’m FBI Special Agent Jack Stanwick.” He stuck out his hand.
The chief ignored it, reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out a cigar. He bit off an end after running it under his nose then popped the blunt into his mouth and lit it. His eyes darted toward Deputy Talbot. “So, what’s all this excitement about?” he asked, his heavy drawl languishing. “Have ya’ found Jimmy Hoffa?”
A sharp burst of laughter erupted from the men.
“No,” answered Deputy Talbot. “It’s more like a freak show.”
The chief took a steady puff of his stogie. “A freak show, huh?”
“I wouldn’t call it that,” stated Jack.
“I reckon I’ll be the judge of that,” declared Chief McAllister.
Jack gritted his teeth. These were backwoods boys and he knew nothing would get done if they weren’t treated with kid gloves. “You know by all accounts, the FBI would be taking over this case once we were informed,” he said, his voice calm and steady.
“I know the playbook, son,” said Chief McAllister, the fiery tip of his cigar floundering with every word. “Your boss called the Governor and raised a hell of a dickens.”
“I don’t know anything about that. What I do know is I’ve got to haul this body up to our Medical Examiner…and soon, so I need the CSI team to do their job.”
The chief blew his noxious mist into the air. “Can I at least take a gander at the body before these fellas get in my way?”
Jack piped up. “Just don’t drop any ashes on the crime scene.”
Chief McAllister clutched the cigar between his stubby fingers and stared him down. “Son, I’ve been doin’ this job a long time. Pert’ near close to forty years, now…about as long as ya’ been in swaddlin’ clothes and ya’ got the where for all to be tellin’ me how to do my job?”
Jack didn’t flinch. “No, sir…I wasn’t.”
The stogie slid back into his mouth. “I didn’t think ya’ was.”
Jack realized the conversation was going nowhere fast and that things had to be done differently. “Chief McAllister, I feel we started off on the wrong foot. Look, I’m just here to oversee the investigation, grab whatever the CSI team finds, and take the victim back to Washington, DC…that’s it. I’m not here to step on any toes. Can we make this happen?”
The chief drew a lengthy hit off his cigar and his head bobbed up and down. “Ok, son, do what ya’ need,” he quipped as the smoke billowed out of a half-cracked smile.
“Thank you, sir.” Jack turned, took a pair of gloves out of his jacket pocket and put them on. He crouched down and gently brushed the remaining leaves off the body. After inspecting it, he stood up and stared at Chief McAllister. “Go ahead, sir, take a look…but prepare yourself.”
“Son, I’ve pert’ near seen everythin’.” He squatted down as much as his protruding gut would allow. “What in tarnation is this?” His breath rasped. “Where in God’s creation did this thing come from?” Wheezing sounded. “Talbot, help me up.”
The deputy grabbed onto the chief’s hefty arm. “I told you, sir…it was freaky.”
McAllister’s eyes blazed. “This here some kinda’ joke…” He shifted around, his face flushed with fury. “Who’s pullin’ my leg?” His glare ended on Jack.
Agent Stanwick flung his hands out. “Look, I’m just down here doing my job.”
“Show me them credentials!” ordered McAllister. “I wanna’ make sure I’m not bein’ taken a fool.”
Jack reached into his back pocket, yanked out a leather case and flipped out his badge. “Here you are, Chief.”
McAllister grabbed it, gave it a stern eye then handed it back. He faced Talbot. “I’m not amused.”
The deputy stepped back.
Jack edged forward. Now that Chief McAllister had gotten a glimpse of his badge, the game had played out. It was time to enact his authority. “I’ll tow the body away as soon as it’s bagged and tagged.”
“Boys, process this here crime scene for the agent.”
The men scrambled.
“I appreciate your help, sir.”
“Nothin’ doin’, son―”
“Do you have any theories about the case?” asked Deputy Talbot, inching in.
Jack didn’t want to comment.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yeah,” replied Jack. “It’s too early to speculate.”
Professional Reviews
Ricky's review 5.0 out of 5 stars
This book is full of mystery, suspense and drama. It has the great pacing of a Dan Brown novel but with a higher standard of writing. Clear descriptions and authentic details make the story utterly believable every step of the way. Tory Allyn has demonstrated a level of confidence and expertise that you so rarely see from a debut author and I would not be surprised to see this planned trilogy achieve a high level of success. This is a great book.
Amazon customer's review 4.5 out of 5 stars
I found it to be exciting and totally different than I expected. What kept it interesting was the realistic conversations among the characters. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book and look forward to the sequels I have heard are coming.
I loved it! 5 stars out of 5 stars
From the first page to the last, the story will captivate your attention and you will not want to stop reading it. There are a lot of mysteries and I really loved reading how the Davenport team of detectives solved them all. Their investigation changed their life's in a lot of ways. If you like mysteries, conspiracy theories, secrets and good stories in general, then this book is for you!
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Reviews for "Alter Ego"
Reviewed by Michael Hartnett
8/20/2018
Exciting Investigations in an Inventive Mystery
The chemical experiments on the victims in Alter Ego by Tory Allyn make for a truly original and distinctive thriller. The bodies have both male and female characteristics. How that comes about is fascinating, particularly in the way Allyn deftly plots the story, revealing bits through the FBI investigation led by Special Agent Jack Stanwick. Stanwick enlists help of reporter Simone Wellington and investigator Raymond Davenport, with his sidekicks Bren, Derek, and Russ. But even as they uncover the unseemly elements of the deaths, Allyn also gives the perspective of a quartet of bad guys, ranging from Logan (the Speaker of the House of Representatives) to Henry Prescott (who runs much of the chemical operation), Buford (the scientist in the charge of the experiments), and Arvin (the muscle of the operation). As with the cadre of good guys, these villains are well-developed and prone to funny exchanges.
Presented in a compelling way, the motives and methods of these experiments are teasingly revealed. Allyn explains the science behind the experiments well and his knowledge of DNA, physiology, and DNA is quite impressive. Without giving away too much of the plot, the experiments delve deeply into the botany of the Amazon and ostensibly seeks to create an environmentally safe pesticide.
What makes the story so engaging is Allyn’s depiction of the characters: the romance between Simone and Jack serves a healthy counterweight to all of the toxic machinations central to the story. Plus the jocular repartee among Derek, Bren, and Russ leaven the intense climax. In fact, Allyn’s sense of play informs the serious undercurrents of Alter Ego. The opening of Chapter Nine features an alphabetically alliterative run, featuring sentences like, “Constant clashes of caterwauling and clattering chatter cursedly continued while distressed damsels demanded their designated dining destination.”
The fun, shenanigans, and the novel’s darker elements reverberate off each other right up to the concluding section – one that has more than its share of surprises. The ending points to the next installment of this rich and riveting series.
Take a bit of Weird Science, add a bit of politics, a FBI search for a serial killer, and add a zany set of private detectives, who used to be cops, and you have a unique blend of sci-fi, humor, and, political intrigue that may lead you to end reading with the question, "What...just...happened?!"
I was enjoying the book until the Davenport Detective Agency was introduced. This is the debut of a series surrounding the Agency. The concept was fine until the detectives became actual characters and started talking. Frankly, I was caught totally off guard. While admitting I didn't like three of the four members of the agency, as the book went on, I began to understand the overall plot and where the series would probably be going... Think Weird Science... If you enjoyed that movie, I think you'll also greatly enjoy this first and other books...
The intriguing string of murdered bodies that was found instantly caused alarm, mixed reactions, and confusion...This was not mutilation--it was something much more--but what?!
When the Detective Agency begins, they are to focus on a militia group that could be behind the murders and whatever else was going on... Readers will meet M.A.G.O.C. (Men Against Government Overtaking Control) and learn the basic actions of what this group has begun doing. The book can stand alone, but does leave readers with questions that move into the next book. I must admit I am curious...
The author has done a great job in creating a novel that attracts attention from the beginning to the end. It is well written and reflects a certain style of creative genius I've not seen before... I can't help but think of it as a spoof, a parody of the multiple genres included... We think, for instance, that the FBI would never bring in another agency to help solve a serial killer case. Yet, the author manages that by having the family of a victim of those murdered hire the Agency... Then there are the characters in the agency that are overplayed to the point of almost thinking they are similar to Keystone Cops... updated to the 60s... (the only clues I'll give, LOL)
The added political angle is certainly timely as we consider how individuals can take on a specific persona only to have corruption revealed at some point... But the project underway by the villains? Well, it...is...just...weird!
Check out other reviews...This is unusual enough that not everybody will pick up on what is happening and appreciate it... It certainly is, though, a novel worth further consideration...
GABixlerReviews
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