Fatal Features by LynDee Walker (Nichelle Clarke Crime Thriller #6.5)
English | 2019 | Mystery/Thriller| ePUB | 2.8 MB
LynDee Walker is the national bestselling author of two crime fiction series featuring strong heroines and “twisty, absorbing” mysteries. Her first Nichelle Clarke crime thriller, FRONT PAGE FATALITY, was nominated for the Agatha Award for best first novel and is an Amazon Charts Bestseller. In 2018 she introduced readers to Texas Ranger Faith McClellan in FEAR NO TRUTH. Reviews have praised her work as “well-crafted, compelling, and fast-paced,” and “an edge-of-your-seat ride” with “a spider web of twists and turns that will keep you reading until the end.”
Crime reporter Nichelle Clarke prefers chasing headlines to relaxing. Even injured and on doctor-ordered bed rest. When her editor offers her a feature assignment thinking that will silence her requests to return to work early, Nichelle jumps at it. Her editor sends reinforcements to keep Nichelle from overdoing it, venturing to an abandoned renaissance fairground to interview a ghost-hunting reality TV show’s producers and staff. But a fresh dead body and a nearby tragedy leave Nichelle and her friends on their own to figure out who they can trust on the set—and who might be a killer. Can Nichelle uncover the truth before someone she loves becomes the next victim?
By the time Parker’s hand closed around the rusted iron cross handle on the planked door, my shoulder was screaming right along with whoever was inside.
I stopped short, raising one hand. “We might be walking onto their set,” I said between gulps of air. Two weeks off from the gym wouldn’t matter if I hadn’t spent so much of them cozied up to a bag of Oreos.
“I haven’t even seen another person, let alone TV equipment,” Parker hissed, easing the door open a crack.
“I’m just saying—” I began, when a low growl came through the door, followed by a string of cuss words that even had Parker lifting a brow. And he used to play baseball for a living.
“Still want to wait out here?” he muttered from the corner of his mouth.
I shook my head. Curiosity goes with the job, and screaming like the building’s on fire followed by swearing an indigo streak had to equal something interesting. Hopefully interesting enough to lead my story off.
He pulled the door slowly, but the hinges creaked like Dracula’s coffin anyway.
I poked my head in, grabbing the splintery wood for support when I spotted a bloody, swollen face staring through matted dark hair with glassy eyes from the dust-ridden anvil near the stove.
“Another falls victim to the curse of Four Winds Faire,” a solemn bass intoned.
“I thought Bob said this was supposed to be a feature.” Parker’s face was an alarming shade of gray, his knuckles going white around the door handle. “What is it with you and dead people?”
My eyes darted back to the head, my stomach shrinking in around the donuts we’d grabbed on the way out of Richmond.
Before I could come up with an answer that didn’t depress me, laughter rang off the rafters. “Gotcha!” booming between the peals.
“Drew, you daft bastard,” the words carried clearly on a rough British accent. A pale hand connected to a bloody stump sailed through the air, thwacking into the wall and landing on the dirt floor after just missing a shiny bald head. Drew’s, I supposed.
He laughed, plucking the head from the anvil. “Looks just like her, doesn’t it? Took you long enough to get in here. I was afraid Jess would find it herself and spoil the fun.”
Parker’s breath sucked in sharply next to me, and I closed my eyes and leaned against the doorframe.
“Looks like the special effects guy was having some fun.”
“Special effects? I thought this was a reality show crew,” Parker stage whispered.
“Right. Because no reality TV show uses scripts or special effects,” I said.