Five Days Post Mortem: A Gripping Serial Killer Thriller (Violet Darger FBI Thriller Book 5) by L.T. Vargus & Tim McBain

Author:L.T. Vargus & Tim McBain [Vargus, L.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FBI thriller, serial killers, female sleuth, police procedural
Publisher: Smarmy Press
Published: 2019-01-02T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 31

Someone was screaming. A high-pitched, ear-splitting shriek of distress.

Darger sat up straight in bed.

Her first thought: Where am I?

Then she remembered.

A hotel. In Sandy, Oregon. On a case.

Heart still racing, she shut off her squawking phone alarm, only then realizing that what she’d thought was a woman screaming was just the electronic jingle of her phone trying to wake her up.

She rubbed her eyes, not wanting to get out of bed. The failed date with Fowles had left her anxious. Her sleep had been fitful. She supposed it didn’t help that the case had seemed to hit a dead end, as well.

When she recalled that one of Prescott’s private investigators was trying to track down Dustin Reynolds, she felt a little better. Maybe he’d been able to find something.

That hope gave her the little burst of energy that finally roused her for good.

Darger showered, dressed, and brushed her teeth. She spit a mouthful of foam into the sink and considered again how she was going to get to the police station. She’d realized in the middle of the night, in between two restless snatches of sleep, that her car was still in the Sandy PD parking lot. Fowles had driven to dinner and then dropped her off.

So that was just great.

She’d have to call for a car. Or she could walk, depending on the weather. It was probably less than a mile to the police station.

While she continued her morning routine, she drank a cup of crappy coffee from the little one-cup machine in her room. It tasted stale. She never understood these single-serve brewers. Who only drank one cup of coffee? It was a ridiculous notion.

Along with the pods of coffee and tea, there were packets of instant oatmeal and instructions for using the coffee machine to make it.

To her surprise, it actually worked. What wasn’t a surprise was that the oatmeal sucked. Like most of the instant varieties she’d had, it was gluey and overly sweet.

She stood at the window and ate her sugary gruel while staring out at the milky sky. There was an angry graphite scribble of dark clouds off to the northwest. Did that mean rain? If she decided to walk, she should ask the front desk if they had an umbrella to borrow.

A knock at her door drew her to the peephole. Closing one eye and squinting the other, Darger peered out. It was Fowles, his tall frame distorted by the fisheye lens.

She stepped away from the door reflexively. Felt a flush hit her cheeks. Half of her was happy to see him again, the unmistakable feeling of butterflies in her stomach. The other half was still embarrassed about last night. And still unsure of what she’d done wrong.

She had a juvenile impulse to not answer the door. To pretend she wasn’t there. But that was ridiculous. He could probably hear her inside. Besides that, what was she, a coward?

She glanced at her reflection in the mirror and steeled herself.

Suck it up, buttercup.

She

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