Tag Archives: cold case

The Trelor Sect Killings…

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He was saving them. He was gathering them unto his spiritual flock, and he would shepherd them there. He was protecting them from the evil materialism and godless destruction of nature that had become the modern world. How long would it be until the end of humanity was brought about in nuclear devastation? This was the way to peace and salvation, Warren Trelor reasoned as he depressed the trigger and discharged a bullet into the back of Star’s head.

The woman’s bloodied hand slipped from the door handle, and her body slumped with her head coming to rest against the door frame at an odd angle. Her eyes were wide but life had abandoned them. Her mouth was open, and there was a strained gurgling sound, then her body convulsed softly in a final nervous spasm.

Trelor met the eyes of his daughter as they lifted from the woman’s face. “She’s in a safer place now, Summer,” he said. “Lock the door now and wait till I come for you.”

Summer didn’t quite close the door. She watched through a tiny crack as the woman’s body was dragged away. There had been sounds of fighting and screaming, and there had been other gun shots. She understood that the adults were being executed. She had been told to stay in the room with the children, and they were all huddled on a bed in the corner with tears dripping from their faces and snot dripping from their noses. They were past crying, though. She had soothed them, and they were all calm in their trust of her.

There had been single gun shots at short intervals. The massacre had been in progress for only ten minutes. There had been two more shots in the time since Summer had closed the door. There was another, and then another that sounded like it came from the back of the house.

She peeked from the curtain to see Joel Dixon lying in the doorway and her father stepping over his body and stalking away toward the kombi van.

Summer knew what was planned. She needed to get to her aunt and make her stop her father from killing the children. She snuck from the door, tip-toeing along the edge of the narrow hallway to avoid stepping in the trail of smeared blood. She looked in the living room where the adults were all lined up against the wall, dead. She saw her Aunt May sitting on the floor in the kitchen. Her head was slumped forward, her arms by her side. Her hand moved, and she made a sound with her head lifting a little then rocking forward again.

“Aunty, you have to wake up!” Summer implored. She was on her knees beside the woman. “You have to wake up and stop him! You have to stop Daddy,” the young girl pleaded, crying and trying to hold her aunt’s head upright.

There was a loud yell from outside. Summer recognised the voice of her friend Bert Dixon. She crawled past the prone man lying in the doorway and snuck with her back pressed against the side of the house until she could see around the corner. It was her father fighting with Bert. She watched the two men thumping and trying to strangle each other, hoping and praying Bert would win, but her dad was strong.

***

It had been only a week since Summer’s eleventh birthday. There had been a party where the women had dressed her up. They were all dead now, those women. They were lined up against the wall in the living room covered in blood with their eyes and mouths open. Summer could smell the blood. It was a thick, syrupy smell like sour milk and lemons.

The men had all bathed and combed their hair for her birthday party. They were nice men. They played guitars and sang. They were all dead now too. They were all lined up against the wall with their eyes and mouths open and blood all over their shirts.

“Summer! Now put that down!” Trelor commanded, but Summer depressed the trigger of the rifle she had picked up off the ground and discharged a bullet into her father.

She had been taught how to use the rifle by her aunt. She had been shooting targets since she was eight.

She fed another bullet into the chamber and worked the bolt forward and down. She pulled back the hammer until it caught. Then she lifted the rifle to her right shoulder and looked through the sight on top of the barrel.

Her father was sitting on the ground holding his stomach. He looked up from his bloodied hand and met his daughter’s eyes. Bert Dixon staggered to his feet and swayed there against the kombi van. He held out his hand to Summer, motioning for her to give him the rifle.

“It’s okay now, Summer.”

His voice was strange. He was struggling to breathe, but it was more than that. It was as if he was in another dimension or something, and Summer didn’t believe him—that it was okay now.

She aimed the rifle at her father’s chest, at the left side, imagining where his heart would be, and she depressed the trigger, discharging another bullet that made his eyes pop open and seem to focus on the far off distance.

The rifle was then taken from her grasp and she was led back into the house and into the room with the children. She was told to stay there, and she did. She waited until she heard someone sneaking along the hallway, and she peeped out to see her aunt edging along the wall toward her room. And a while later there were police lights and people everywhere. And Summer made sure to collect her shoulder bag as she was taken out through the back of the house and placed in the police bus.

In her shoulder bag she had her makeup and jewelry, her small beaded purse with her money, and a bone handled hair brush that she took out to brush her hair….

****

The Children’s Room is a romantic suspense novel featuring two of the children who survived that massacre. The setting 35 years later…

Preview The Children’s Room on  Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon AU

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Jilted drunk guy meets the hot new girl in town…

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David was feeling good. He planted his empty beer glass on the bar and did a little air-guitar as his song finished. “Catch-ya Luce!” he called to the barmaid. Lucy was her name. She gave him a high-five, and he spun, strumming his imaginary guitar. “Vic!” he said, shaping up to Victor Turak, a fisherman friend who shaped up in mock readiness to box. The two men shadow-boxed each other but David’s shadow boxing morphed back into an air-guitar solo as he left his friend and spun toward the door of the bar, almost bumping right into his ex-girlfriend, Cassandra.

“Cassie! Oh shit!” He pulled up, grinning and switching his air-guitar to air-drums.

“Hello, David. Had a few, have you?”

A man stopped behind Cassie. It was her boss, Reece Norman, the man she had dumped David for. He placed his hands upon her shoulders. “Hello, David.”

David dropped the air-drumsticks, raising his hands in an exaggerated surrender as he steadied himself. He had had one too many beers. His mind was kind of numb and swaying this way and that.  He tried to focus, though.

“Reece,” he said, shaking his head and waving a finger. “You know, Reecey, you’re looking sharp, man… Looks like a million bucks, eh, Cass?” he slurred. “A million fucking bucks, eh?”

David focused at the last and eyeballed the other man. He then met Cassandra’s eyes, which had watered up a bit. “Sorry, Cassie,” he said to her sincerely. “I’m a bit drunk.”

He passed the two of them, glancing at the other man again, then moving on out the door and across the car-park to the street. He had left his car at home, planning on having a few beers and being over the limit. He sat down for a while, watching the evening strollers along the foreshore and trying to sober up for the walk.

He sat for an hour before moving on and up the street to his house, where he heard laughter emanating from the living room. His mind had sharpened. He was still a bit drunk but was thinking clearly. He walked into the house to find his sister and some other woman laughing hysterically.

They both pointed at him and laughed louder.

“What the hell?” he said. “What’s so bloody funny?”

The other woman was hot. David sort of recognised her. He remembered the new girl at the B&B and had placed her.

“Actually, his shirt is tucked in a bit.” Clair looked at Amanda. “It looks like it was tucked in.”

One side of David’s shirt was secure, the other side had worked its way free of his jeans. It was still tucked in a bit at the back. He walked through the room with the two women still laughing at him, sharing a joke he had no idea of. “Crazy chicks,” he grumbled to himself, and when he got to the kitchen and opened the fridge, he called back to his sister, “Is there anything to eat?”

“In the oven!”

David found his dinner there and sat at the table to eat it. The two women joined him. They had wine.

“David, this is Clair,” Amanda announced. “She’s from the Gold Coast.”

“Hi,” Clair said, smiling.

David nodded. “Hi.”

“Except David’s not like the others,” Amanda said to Clair.

“Oh—how so?” Clair replied.

“He’s more like a girl.”

David frowned but kept eating. He was hungry.

“In that he..?” Clair prompted.

“In that he’s the one who always falls in love.”

David frowned harder. They were too giggly to argue with, though. Plus the other chick was hot, he reasoned again. He wouldn’t want to argue with her.

“Do you?” she said to him.

“Do I what?”

“Do you fall in love?”

He shrugged. “Nope! Love’s bullshit.”

“Oh, you do so!” his sister scolded. “And it is not bullshit.”

“No, I agree with your brother,” Clair said. “Love is for movies and fairy tales. All you need is sex!”

“Yes!” David agreed, cheering. “What’s your name, again?” He examined Clair closely.

“Clair.”

“And how do you two—um..?” he motioned between the two of them.

“We met at the mansion. She’s going to ask the widow who killed her husband,” Amanda clarified as a matter-of-fact.

“Oh? But she killed him, didn’t she?” David queried.

“That’s what I’m hearing,” Clair agreed.

“And you’re..?” David prompted.

“I’m doing a paper for my college course. Oh, and some big old copper is going to show me the file tomorrow. I showed him some boob and he couldn’t say yes quick enough!”

“Clair!” Amanda scolded.

“You showed him some boob?” David questioned with interest.

Clair thrust her boobs forward, showing off her cleavage. “You guys are easy.”

“True,” David agreed, earning a more genuine smile. “Tell her!” He pointed to his sister. “Tell her to show Brent some boob or something.”

“No!” Amanda said. “It’s not like that with him.”

“Bullshit! He can’t get his eyes off the barmaids down at the Grill on a Saturday night. He’s no different to the rest of us.”

“Oh really?” Clair challenged Amanda. “The barmaids..?” she questioned David.

“See-through—boobs on show!” he explained. “And Brent with his tongue hanging out just like the rest of us.”

“Yeah, well, you can hardly blame him for that,” Amanda defended. “If girls are going to go topless!”

“Hey!” Clair exclaimed in mock indignation.

“Oh… Sorry… Not that there’s anything wrong with girls going topless.”

David was confused, looking at the two women for some clarification.

“I’m a stripper,” Clair explained. “You know—pole dancer—lap dancer.”

David grinned.

“Yeah, suck your tongue back in!” his sister said, giggling.

“Private dances?” David queried jokingly.

“A hundred bucks a song,” Clair replied, also jokingly. Although she got up and wiggled around David to get some more wine from the fridge.

“Your food’s getting cold,” his sister informed pointedly, raising her eyebrows at his stupid grin.

Clair brought the wine bottle back. She topped up Amanda’s glass. “Do you want to try it on?”

“Okay.” Amanda stood to go with her new girlfriend.

David questioned them, but was left there alone without explanation. They returned after a while wearing each other’s dress. Clair was wearing Amanda’s house dress and Amanda was in Clair’s slinky little woollen number.

“Well?” Clair said to David, presenting his little sister.

Amanda had a great figure, which was accentuated by the skin-tight dress. She never offered cleavage but was at the moment. “Damn!” David exclaimed. He was taken aback.

“See!” Clair said to Amanda.

David found himself looking Clair over too. The house dress had transformed her just as much, and what it had transformed her into had David’s heart pounding a bit. Although he consciously pushed that notion aside and pictured Clair lap dancing again.

The girls then vanished, and David gravitated toward the television and a rugby game that was on. Amanda came from her room a few times for more wine, but he never saw Clair again before going to bed…..

***

AKA Candy Weston is a steamy love story and a cold case murder mystery. Clair is the link between the mystery and romance. Something has brought her back to the small fishing village she used to visit as a child. The Widow Mulvane’s secret holds the key… On sale this week at   Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon AU

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Going on about love after 5 minutes…

Beauty Skin Deep

Kate was pleased to be accompanied by others struggling to learn the steps. The lesson began with men lined up together and women lined up opposite. There was no touching. It was just a matter of following the steps to learn the pattern of movement. One two three, one two three. It was quite simple really, and Kate was soon walking through the eighteen step routine that zigzagged along the wall.

When it was time to take partners, that silly tingle in her belly returned. Her eye level was in line with that damned dimply chin, and Ben’s hand closed over hers as another big, warm paw pressed against her back. And she forgot the steps immediately.

“Are you ready?” he asked as the music started.

“Uh huh,” was all Kate could offer in reply, and the hand upon her back firmed, and she was drawn close to that powerful frame. She then completely surrendered as control of her body was taken from her. And she was rising and falling to the music and being swept along in a dizzy haze that took her breath away.

“Are you okay?” Ben asked softly. He seemed to be there in the cloud with her.

“Uh huh…” Kate uttered again.

“You’re doing very well.”

Kate wasn’t game to look at Ben’s face. She clung to one rippling shoulder and stared at the other one. The force of his body was against her hip, and his powerful thigh was driving between her legs and lifting her. The heat of his groin against her sex was something completely unexpected, and it was wonderful.

An hour passed in an instant, and Kate swayed against Ben’s chair while he changed his dance shoes for the boots he had worn earlier. His hand returned to her back as he guided her from the hall to his car. He opened the door for her, and she turned to him and placed her arms around his shoulders. He met her lips softly at first, but his passion was soon crushing her to his body, and she moaned into his mouth. He drew back and touched her cheek, caressing her face, and his hand moved to the back of her neck as he bent to her again.

Kate was on her toes, or perhaps her feet had left the ground. She wasn’t sure. The hand upon her back had slipped beneath her top, and she could feel its coarseness against her skin. The heat from his kiss was swirling in her head, and she clung to his hair as he mauled her neck. She was pinned against the car, his manhood rigid against her belly as he again lifted and kissed her open mouth.

“Is there a motel?” Kate asked, with her words ending as Ben’s lips again met hers, only that time he seemed a little restrained.

He smoothed hair from her face and delved into her eyes. He kissed her again, softly. “I’m a little out of practice.”

“Oh? I hadn’t noticed.” Kate held the man’s eyes. They wavered but quickly regained their intensity.

He kissed her again, deeply and with more tenderness and control that time. Kate responded, though she suddenly felt unsure, and her confusion was leading her beyond the heat of the moment. She wanted to know what he was thinking. He lifted and took to fiddling with her hair at her shoulder. He seemed to be struggling with something, and she waited.

After a long moment of silence, in which passion almost audibly faded, Ben looked up with a light, disarming smile. “I haven’t made love to a woman since Sylvia.”

Kate understood the significance of that statement immediately. She recoiled inwardly. “Love? Who said anything about making love, cowboy?”

His smile broadened with a hint of resignation. “Yeah, I know. Lame, huh?”

She had begun fiddling with the front of his shirt. The thought of the housewives of Goran Vale flashed to mind. “No, it’s actually quite sweet, but it’s not very realistic.”

He lifted her chin and smoothed hair from her face. He kissed her again, softly yet confidently. “Oh, it’s realistic. It’s just too soon for a word like that.”

He wasn’t reading her at all.

“We should go. It’s getting late, and I have jobs tomorrow before I leave.” Kate got in the car and closed the door. Ben stood for a moment then walked around and got in the other side. “Can we skip the restaurant and stop at that roadhouse again?” she asked.

He nodded and drove off. It was a good fifteen minutes before he spoke. “I’m sorry, Kate. I didn’t mean to spook you.”

“Well, you did spook me, cowboy—going on about love after five minutes.”

Ben smiled. “I know. I can usually go a good ten minutes before bringing that up too. It’s a form of premature ejaculation.”

Kate laughed. “Speaking of—that! You know what we could have been doing right now if you weren’t such a sap, don’t you?”

“I know. Damn it. I think there’s a motel just up ahead, though.”

“Nope. Too late. Moment’s passed, and all I want is a steak sandwich now……”

Read all about Ben and Kate: Kindle Countdown 99c sale this week.