Title: The
Defenseless
Author: Carolyn
Arnold
Genre: Mystery /
Suspense
The
first victim was poisoned. Three others are still missing. One more turns up
dead. But there is one connection that ties them all together.
This
case has FBI Agent Brandon Fisher and the team in Colorado to stop a serial
killer targeting men who beat charges of animal abuse over twenty years ago.
With the method of murder changing to match what his victims had allegedly
inflicted on the defenseless, the team questions who is on the side of
justice--them or the murderer. After all, their unsub is seeking retribution on
behalf of the victims who have no voice.
While
facing this moral dilemma, Brandon’s loyalty to the bureau is also tested. But
Brandon is up for the challenge--anything to get his mind off his pending
divorce and the upcoming holiday. Being thousands of miles from home, the
forbidden relationship between him and Paige becomes more tempting, but is he
willing to risk all that he’s worked for?
Author Bio
CAROLYN
ARNOLD is the bestselling author of the Madison Knight series, the Brandon
Fisher series, and the McKinley Mysteries. Her love for writing dates back to
her teen years, but her passion was reignited in 2006 when a fellow employee
said "tell me a story." Since then Carolyn has never looked back.
Her
writing has since been compared to New York Times Bestsellers such as JD Robb,
Mary Higgins Clark, Sue Grafton, Michael Connelly, Tess Gerritsen, and more.
Carolyn
was born in 1976 in a rural town of Ontario, Canada, and she currently lives
with her husband and two beagles in a city near Toronto.
Links
Book Excerpts
Chapter 1
Current
day
December
15th, 6 a.m.
Denver,
Colorado
The
plane touched down at Denver International Airport just after six in the
morning. I was happy to have the tumultuous flight over with, and thought it
should have been canceled, but apparently those responsible for that sort of
thing had cleared take-off.
Flying typically didn’t bother me, but high winds and various
temperature pockets had buffeted the plane, rocking it almost like a ship at
sea, only we were thirty thousand feet in the air. Land never looked so good.
Zachery slapped me on the back and had me lurching forward from
the momentum. “We made it, Pending.”
Months into my probationary period but still not clear of
it—something I was reminded of all the time by his beloved nickname.
Jack brushed past, leading the three of us through the airport, no
doubt driven by the undying urge for a cigarette. Paige hung back, and when I
turned, she pushed a rogue strand of hair from her eyes and dipped to the left
as she shifted the position of her suitcase strap on her right shoulder.
We were called to Colorado because some old-timer detective by the
name of Mack McClellan was certain the area had a serial killer. He believed it
strongly enough we were convinced as well.
The label serial killer no longer fazed me, and it only took a few
horrid cases to rub off its shock value.
Regular people, who didn’t have to hunt down murderers, lived life
as if they were merely characters fabricated for entertainment purposes. The
dark truth was, conservatively, there were an estimated thirty-five to fifty
serial killers in the United States at any given time.
The local FBI office was to provide us with transportation, but it
was the local detective who insisted on meeting us at the airport and bringing
us up to speed.
Stepping out of the warm cocoon of the airport into the brisk
winter air of Denver stole my breath. It had me wanting to retreat back inside
for the warm, blowing vents.
For recreational purposes, Denver would be an ideal location to
spend the Christmas season, with its mountain slopes and deep snow. Even facing
the search for a killer, I’d rather be here, miles away from home, than facing
the emptiness of the house on Christmas day.
This would be the first year without Deb. The only thing that
could make it better was reconciliation, but we were beyond that point. Truth
be told, I wasn’t even sure if I’d take her back. The divorce was already
filed, and knowing my penchant for attracting negative events, it would be
official in time for the holiday. It didn’t matter though. I had found a way to
move forward in my life—at least I told myself that. Maybe I was burying my
feelings, but I preferred to think I healed faster than most.
“Hey, there they are.”
A man pushed off the hood of a Crown Vic, the cup in his hand
steaming in the cold air. At full height, he was all of five eight. His hair
was sparse, and reminded me of a Chia Pet just starting to grow, but what he
did have was a dark blond. He wore a thigh-length wool parka, zipped up shy of
his collar by about six inches. It revealed a white collared shirt and a blue
tie with white dots. I wondered if he dressed this way all the time or only
when the FBI was in town.
He put his cup on the car roof and came toward us with another man
who wore a fur-lined leather jacket paired with blue jeans, which appeared stiff
due to the mountain air.
It had me wondering which scenario was more uncomfortable, frozen
stiff jeans, or breezy dress pants. I experienced the latter and questioned the
wardrobe I had brought, wondering if I’d be warm enough.
Curse winter and all that’s white.
“Gentleman, I’m Mack McClellan.” The man in the parka extended his
hand, first to Jack. He must have sensed his authority despite the lit
cigarette.
Jack took a quick inhale and blew a stream of white pollution out
the side of his mouth as he shook the man’s hand. “Supervisory Special Agent
Jack Harper, and this is my team.” Jack left us to introduce ourselves.
McClellan’s gaze settled on me, and I surmised what he was
thinking—I was the young guy on the team, the inexperienced one he’d have to watch.
He gestured to the man with him. “This is Detective Ronnie Hogan.
He’s also with Denver PD. We’re not partners, but he’s of the same mind.
There’s a serial at play here.”
Hogan bobbed his head forward as a greeting, but made no effort to
extend a hand. His eyes were brown and hard to read. He had etched crease lines
in his brow, but he also had smile lines, so there was some promise there. Not
that we witnessed the expression.
McClellan grinned with a warmth that touched his eyes, giving me
the impression he was used to Hogan’s aloofness. “Glad to see you made it all
right. It’s quite the weather we’re having these days. How was your flight?”
Jack took another drag on his cigarette. “Over now.”
His retort killed the expression on the detective’s face. “A man
who is all business, I see. So, the dead body. You know the name and details.”
Another pull on the cigarette, and Jack flicked the glowing butt
to the ground and extinguished it with the twist of a shoe.
“We know what the file says, but we like to go over everything in
person.” Paige smiled at the detectives, no doubt trying to compensate for
Jack’s crass behavior.
“Well, let us fill you in on the way to where the body was found.
My, it’s mighty cold out here.” He rubbed his hands together and grabbed his
cup before going around to the driver’s side. “For everyone to be more
comfortable, two of you can come with me, and the other two can go with Hogan.”
McClellan seemed like an open book—what you saw was what you got.
With Hogan, there was something about him, whether it was his skepticism or
what, I wasn’t sure. A quality that should repel actually made me want to get
to know him.
“I’ll go with Hogan.” Paige and I spoke at the same time.
Our eyes connected. In the past this symmetry in thought would
have elicited a smile from both of us. These days our relationship was more
complicated.
Paige stepped back and sought Jack’s direction. “I’ll go with
whomever you want me to.”
“It’s fine. You guys go with Hogan. We’ll all catch up at the
crime scene.”
She went past me and held out her hand to Hogan. “I don’t think
we’ve been properly introduced.”
Hogan stared at her extended hand and, eventually, conceded to a
handshake. The greeting was over quick.
As he was getting into the driver’s seat, I whispered in Paige’s
ear. “He’s not really the touchy-feely kind, is he?”
I received a glare in response.
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