Nails In A Coffin (Demi Reynolds Book 1) (21 page)

A thank you from the author
:

Thank you for reading this novel. I appreciate your support. Without you, this wouldn’t be possible. If you enjoyed this book, please feel free to let others know. Word of mouth helps my books reach other readers. An Amazon review containing your thoughts does wonders. Thank you again and I hope to see you nose deep in one of my other books soon!

Luis

P.S

I’ve added a chapter sampler for my new Frank McKenzie novel at the end of this book. Feel free to read on!

Stranger At The Door Sample

One

The man got out of the car and waved his wife off with a playful smile. “It’s better if nobody knows we went out tonight,” he said.

His wife, Mandy, sat behind the wheel of their brand-new Cadillac and shone back a full row of pearly white teeth. She was feeling playful as well. After all the intimacy problems they’d been having for the past six months, a little mischief and wonder was very much needed for the both of them.

“Now, Mr. Governor, don’t ruin a perfect evening,” she said.

The man stood out in the cold, looking down at his wife from the passenger’s window. He bent down and gave her a wink. He then wagged his long finger at her, half sticking it into the rolled-down window. “Mandy, I told you not to call me that. Nothing is finalized yet. I don’t know if you’re aware, but there tends to be a vote before anybody is given the position of governor.”

“Don’t wag your finger at me, mister!” his wife returned, switching off the car’s engine and stepping out of it, high heels first, into a wet puddle. She looked over the roof of the car and gave her husband a look. It was a plain and simple one. It screamed
AH, MY NEW SHOES!

“Look what you’ve gone and done, Mr. Governor!” she said, making her way around the car and over to her finely dressed husband. He was looking around at their surroundings. It was a rough neighbourhood, and the motel they were standing in front of had hourly rates, but that was all part of their newfound exciting sex life. It contained a lot of seedy hotels and unused dives. It was all part of their therapist’s idea of “getting it to work again,” whatever that meant.

“Look what you’ve gone and done,” his wife said, reaching him and putting her hand gently on his thigh. “You got me all wet,” she said, bursting out into a belly laugh that sounded like a squawking bird in the late night Boston air.

“I’ll get you some new shoes,” he said.

“Don’t worry about them, honey — I don’t mind getting wet and dirty once in a while,” she confessed, moving her hand from his thigh down to his crotch. She grabbed it and squeezed. It wasn’t the time or the place, but the soon-to-be governor was definitely ready to express his gratitude to his wife. She looked great in her little black dress. She wore extendable silk gloves that ran halfway up her arms. She had a single necklace on that looked delicate around her neck. Her fiery red hair waved in the wind.

“The necklace,” he said, reaching for it. He held it firmly in his grip. “I gave that to you when we were younger,” he muttered under his breath.

His wife stepped back a few feet, a look of dismay on her face.

“Roger, I just grabbed your damn crotch, and all you can think of is my necklace? I’m afraid I’m going to have to reiterate how badly I want you inside me, so get moving or this date is over!” she said, half serious, half smiling.

Mandy was a stunning woman who had a knack for getting her own way. The only person who didn’t respond to such traits was her husband, Roger. She loved him for that. That was why she had been with him for twenty-seven years. That’s why she was working on their marriage. Love, for her, was him. She forgave him for his past discrepancies. She understood that a man in power needs a thrill. She was just adamant that the next thrill her husband would be getting was from her, and not some stranger Roger decided to fornicate with.

She forgave him, though. A man, after all, is only as perfect as the woman he is with. She understood her part in things. But she wasn’t there to dwell. She was there to have fun.

“So come on, let’s do this!” she said, nearly “whooing” like an excited teenage girl on spring break.

Roger broke into a sweat. He was nervous. He hadn’t been with his wife for a while. Not since
the incident
. But he was excited. She looked amazing. He was remembering why he married her in the first place. Besides her fabulous figure and a tremendous appetite for pleasure, she was his rock. He knew he had done wrong. And it was time to repay his debt to her. He had a long list of things he was planning to do that night, and neither of them involved one ounce of sleep.

“Coming,” he said, wrapping his strong hands around her firm waist.

The middle-aged gorgeous couple walked side by side into the seedy motel. Once the doors opened, neither of them would be the same again.

Cue a night of fearsome make-up sex….and death.

Two

“You don’t actually think we have a chance this year, do ya?” Santiago said as he grabbed a betting slip from the rack in front of us.

“Bruins always have a chance,” I said, watching my partner fill in the accumulators for me. I wasn’t one for getting my hands dirty. That was the tradition: I cough up the money, and San fills in the slips. We would split it whenever we won. That was the deal. Seems like a bad one on my part, seeing how Santiago never actually put any money in, but it wasn’t like we were betting big. It was always just twenty bucks. That’s my limit.

“That’s crazy talk. Rangers look to be closing in on the gap. If they don’t win the Cup, then I’d be surprised if we even get to the playoffs,” Santiago mumbled as he filled out my picks.

“That’s why they call it betting, San — you’re supposed to go AGAINST the feasible to attain the pot of gold!”

Santiago chuckled as he put the pen down and handed me the slip.

“No, you do it. That guy behind the counter doesn’t like me much,” I said.

San nodded his head, as if he had already heard why.

“Not many people like you, Frank. Hasn’t stopped you in the past.”

“Something to do with me busting his nephew for slanging rock downtown,” I said, grabbing some cash from my pocket and handing it to the bronzed hand of my partner. He and I were opposites. He was tanned and good-looking. I was pale and rugged. The perfect mixture of diversity. It goes down well at the P.D. ball. Everyone loves an ethnic odd couple.

We walked to the counter and buzzed the bell. A fat guy behind a pane of glass mumbled something under his breath as San slid the slip under the gap between us. The fat guy behind the counter nodded and gave us a ticket stub. In exchange, Santiago flicked a twenty under the gap.

“He doesn’t think you like him,” Santiago bellowed rather loudly, pointing at me and pulling a face. The guy behind the counter frowned and shrugged unapologetically.

“Well, at least he ain’t as stupid as he looks,” the fat guy said, turning his back on us and looking up at the small TV he had propped up on a shelf.

“Well, that’s taken care of. How about we go and grab a bite to eat?” San said, punching me on the arm.

“Yeah, why not? Hoagies, it is,” I said.

Then the fun ended when my cell phone buzzed. I fished it out of my jacket pocket and put it to my ear.

“Detective Frank McKenzie,” I said, looking at Santiago, who was rolling his eyes. We had just finished a sixteen-hour shift and were looking to wind down before hitting the sack. But a vibrating cell can mean only one thing.

No sleep for us. Or fun, for that matter.

“Hey, Frank. You still with Santiago?” the voice on the other end said. That voice belonged to my boss, Chief Shaw. He had a habit of asking rhetorical questions. Mostly it didn’t matter what I said, because he’d assume I’d already replied, even if I didn’t. “Good, I need you two to come in.” I hadn’t answered him. “Mayor ordered a briefing on the drug case you two were working on. Seems urgent — I wouldn’t keep the man waiting,” he said.

I stood there for a minute and waited for a pause in the conversation. Shaw would usually ramble, and, as usual, I would wait to answer all questions asked with a yes. But this time I was curious, so I actually asked one.

“It’s 2 a.m., boss. Surely the mayor has better things to do than brief us about a drugs case?” I said.

“Non-negotiable, Frank. If the mayor wants to have a tea party at two o’clock in the morning, then we shall oblige. Got it? Now get a hustle on, and tell Santiago to change his clothes. I saw what he was wearing today, and a Bob Marley T-shirt may be okay for home time and all, but I don’t want the mayor thinking my boys smoke spliffs on their downtime.”

The cell went dead, and I put it back in my pocket.

“Work?” San said, looking a little glum.

“Yeah.”

Both of us walked out of the betting shop and got into our Ford Capri. I drove, and San sulked.

“Fuck, man, I really hate all this late-night b.s.,” he said.

I took an easy left and put my foot down a little on the accelerator.

“What’s the rush?” San asked.

“The mayor wants a meeting. Don’t want to be late,” I said.

“A meeting? Doesn’t he have a life…or a damn bed?” Santiago moaned as we took the straight leading to the precinct.

“No, it appears he doesn’t. By the way, Shaw wants you out of that shirt. He said he’s fed up with your marijuana smoking, and if you don’t shape up, he’s sending you to rehab.”

“I don’t smoke weed…. Whatever, Frank. If he doesn’t like my damn shirt, that’s just too bad! I’ll wear it all the time! Day and night, never going to take it off now,” he said.

I changed gear and looked at Santiago sitting next to me.

“It’s okay, buddy. I like your shirt.”

Santiago shook his head and gave me the finger. “Just get us to this meeting.”

Three

Mandy and Roger were kissing passionately when there was a knock at the door.

Two heavy thuds.

Bang. Bang.

They were hard and strangely menacing. Something about the knocks conveyed a certain sense of urgency.

“Don’t answer it, baby. We’re busy,” Mandy said, undoing Roger’s fly.

Roger pulled away from his gorgeous wife and did his zipper back up. He gave her an apologetic smile and caressed her face. “Could be important,” he said.

Mandy shook her head. She didn’t like being interrupted. Especially when she wanted quality time with her husband. It seemed as if the whole world wanted to ruin her perfect evening. She was determined to put an end to it as quickly as possible.

“I’ll answer the damn door. You get undressed. Whoever it is, I’ll send them away. It’s 2 a.m., for Christ’s sake!”

Mandy pulled her bra strap up and brushed her hair back with her hands. Her dress was still halfway on her body. All she needed to do was wiggle it back in place. She did so and went toward the door. Roger jumped on the bed and started to undo his shirt one button at a time.

“Hurry up!” he said excitedly.

Mandy broke into a smile as she reached the door. She peeked through the spyhole and saw a man with his back to the door standing in the hallway. He was wearing a suit. She gathered it was one of their security personnel. They must’ve tracked them to the hotel. It irritated her that they had been followed.

“Looks like one of Bob’s men found us,” she said, undoing the latch and opening the door.

She stood there with a smile on her face. It soon disappeared when she noticed what the man in the suit was holding in his left hand. It was a knife. It glinted slightly in the dim lights coming from the crooked fixtures on the hallway walls.

She was about to scream, but the man turned around, putting his hand across her mouth, and stuck the knife in her throat. The blade went into the left side of her neck. Her carotid artery exploded on the impact of the knife going in. Blood sprayed onto the open hotel door. Some reached as high as the doorframe. Droplets of blood dotted her face. She collapsed in a heap on the welcome mat under the doorframe.

Roger was still undoing his shirt buttons when he heard a thud. His eyes widened a little in curiosity. He sat up slowly and attempted to see if he could spot his wife. A large wall that belonged to the
en suite
bathroom was blocking his vision. It stretched a little too far to the left for him to be able to see the doorway. He was just about to get up and walk over to the door when he heard footsteps coming toward him.

“I hope you told Bob’s man to fuck off. We have our own lives. He should know that. He’s always on vacation himself.”

The footsteps stopped suddenly.

“Mandy? Are you okay?”

The room went silent.

“Mandy?”

Then the sound of footsteps returned. This time they were faster. Like someone was running. It took only two seconds for Roger to realize something was wrong. But by then it was too late. The man in the suit ran into the room and stood at the foot of the bed. Roger’s mouth was agape. His heart was thumping in his chest. He saw the bloodied knife the man had in his hand. He didn’t recognize the person’s face. Before he could do anything, the man took two massive strides toward him. Roger was struck with fear. He couldn’t move. It only took one second of hesitation. And then another for him to be mortally wounded.

The man struck Roger in the chest with the knife. It punctured his left lung, making the air hiss out of his chest. He struck Roger again, this time in the neck. A spray of blood exploded onto the headboard. Roger was choking on his own blood. The third strike caught him in the face. It sliced his tongue in half. The fourth was to the right eye. That was the fatal strike. What was even worse about the fourth strike wasn’t the fact that when the killer took the knife out of his eye, the eyeball dislodged from its socket. It was the fact that Roger saw it coming. Every millisecond of it was engrained in his brain before he died. Every inch of the knife going in was felt. The tip of the knife hitting his brain was the only reason he didn’t feel it coming out of his skull.

The man with the knife smiled. He had dark and rotted teeth. It was a strange combination: bad teeth – good suit. But he pulled it off, unless he smiled. Luckily for him, he wasn’t much of a smiler.

He wiped the blood off the knife in the bathroom sink. It took all of eight seconds to kill Roger. A little longer for his wife, but not by much. The man was happy with his timing. It was his best yet. Something to be proud of, in fact. He brushed a little bit of loose hair off his fringe and shot himself a grin. He concealed the knife in his inside pocket and breathed a sigh of relief. He was back to looking dapper again. No blood on his black suit. No blood on his hands. A clean kill, indeed.

He walked out of the room and made his way out of the hotel. He was long gone before anybody noticed the two bodies lying in a pool of their own blood.