Devil’s Pasture: Some Secrets are Deadly by Richard Bannister
English | 2019 | Mystery/Thriller | ePUB | 474 Kb
Devil’s Pasture : When a woman is found brutally murdered outside a run-down apartment building in an apparently motiveless crime, Detective Megan Riley is shocked to find the victim is a friend whom she hasn’t seen in sixteen years.
As children, Megan and Beth were inseparable until a shocking allegation tore them apart. When Beth’s partner Ashley also turns up dead, Megan is stretched to her breaking point, as she searches for the killers.
Recently back from medical leave after an officer-involved shooting, Detective Riley has a different murder on her mind. Four months earlier, a shootout with a bank robber, injured her and left Detective Jake Kennedy, her partner, and lover dead. Now, the robber’s brother is out for revenge.
Haunted by Jake’s death, and her service in Afghanistan, and dogged by the press, Megan must battle powerful people, who will kill again to protect the decades-old secrets behind the murders. When she finds connections to a ten-month-old suicide, she resists pressure to look elsewhere, putting her career on the line.
Reporter Kayla Ellis is not above criticizing Detective Riley and interfering in her case to get a story. But their lives converge as they discover the truth behind the murders, and the killers draw them into a deadly game of cat and mouse.
“A reporter would only be wired if they were meeting someone. What if the killer pulled her pants down looking for the recorder?” I suggested, trying to convince myself Beth hadn’t been raped.
“It’s a workable theory. But you’ll need to wait until I get her back to the morgue for confirmation,” Jackson asserted.
“I don’t see any defensive wounds on her arms.”
I wasn’t ready for Beth’s head flopping unnaturally as Jackson rolled her onto her side and pointed to two small marks on the back of her neck. “He used a stungun on her before cutting her throat.”
Victim, not Beth, I told myself. “Who found her?”
“The apartment manager,” Jackson flicked his head toward two uniformed officers, Michael Smith and Emma McAdams, known as Mickey and Minnie, standing over a bald man seated on a concrete step. “But you’ll have to wait until he stops puking. The victim has been here two hours, give or take, so death was around 7 a.m. She was killed here, in case you needed to know.”
I ignored the sarcasm and moved on to the apartment manager. He looked docile enough, so I dismissed the uniforms who were watching him.
“I’m Detective Riley, and you are?”