Broken (A Casey Bolt FBI Suspense Thriller—Book One) by Molly Black

Author:Molly Black [Black, Molly]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2023-12-21T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The morning sun seeped through the curtains, casting a soft glow on Casey's face as she stirred beneath the cool sheets. Her dreams had been troubling, threatening to rouse her every few moments. Her body felt heavy, weighed down by the dark tendrils of sleep that clung to her consciousness. But there was no time for rest; the case demanded her attention, and she willed herself awake.

With reluctance, Casey pushed back the covers, put her gloves back on from where they rested on the night-stand, and swung her legs over the bed while adjusting the covers, her gloved hands making little sound against the smooth fabric. She sat there for a moment, gathering her thoughts, the loose strands of her dark hair brushing against her cheeks in a dance that would have driven her mad if she allowed the fringe to go wild throughout the day. The room was still as if holding its breath.

Suddenly, the silence shattered as her phone screamed to life, demanding her attention like a petulant child. The shrill ring sent a jolt of adrenaline racing through her veins. Her heart thundered in her chest, an anxious drumbeat echoing through her mind as she grabbed the device.

"Bolt," she answered, her voice tense with anticipation.

"Casey, we've found another one," Nathan's voice was grave, the words falling like stones in the pit of her stomach. "Body drowned in a vat at a vineyard."

She just sat there, staring.

"Casey?"

"We're sure it's the same guy?"

"Same MO."

"We're sure..." she trailed off. Of course, they were sure. She shook off the last vestiges of denial, frowning and steeling herself.

"Four… That makes it four…" she whispered, the numbers swirling in her head like crimson clouds. Her synesthetic senses painted the scene in vivid hues of terror, each victim's last moments etched in shades of scarlet and violet. Casey could feel the threads of the case intertwining, beckoning her further into the twisted labyrinth of the killer's design.

"Where?" she asked, her tone firm, masking the unease gnawing at the edges of her thoughts.

"Stonewoods Vineyards," Nathan replied. "I'm headed there now. Meet me as soon as you can."

"Understood. On my way."

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