The Haunting of Rachel Harroway- Book 2 by Donovan J.S

Author:Donovan, J.S. [Donovan, J.S.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2017-07-10T04:00:00+00:00

Rachel paced around the cold interrogation room. Peak followed her cyclical trek from his slouched position on one of two aluminum chairs on his side of the table.

“I wonder what sort of predator she is? What sort of evolutionary track led her to this point?” Peak asked, leaning back in his chair and looking at the ceiling. “Is she genetically flawed, or like you, did the imperfections make her stronger?”

“Thanks for the compliment,” Rachel replied.

Peak disregarded the response. “There’s a seduction about her kills. Every victim willingly opened their home to the woman and was slaughtered so swiftly that they never had a chance to fight back. Also, the wounds are consistent with a ten-inch pig hunting knife like the one you described. I’m curious if she views the kill like a hunt, similar to Albert.”

“Maybe they’re kindred spirits.”

“Maybe.” The detective readjusted his posture. “The Orphans give you any secrets?”

Rachel thought of Albert’s accusation and Wexler in the photos. “No. They’ve not been helpful.”

“I guess we're going to have to trust the cold hard facts this time around.”

An officer opened the door. He gave Rachel and Peak a disconcerting look as Jennifer Blankenship stepped inside, followed by the sharp-dressed attorney Lennard Splints. The hard-faced lawyer fixed his crimson tie and extended his hand to the detectives while his client took a seat. As a formality, the detectives shook and lowered themselves into their seats. They smiled falsely at the lawyer that represented Albert.

Jennifer kept quiet and rested her hands on the lap of her business skirt. The stench of cigarettes mixed with the smell of her perfume.

Splints sat at the edge of his seat. Before he could open his mouth, Rachel interrupted. “We are not making any accusations against your client at this time. This is a follow up from our initial meeting in her home.”

“Did you kill Albert Jacobson?” Peak asked Jennifer, foregoing tact.

“No,” Jennifer said, her expression cool and collected.

“Did you kill John Parkman?”

“No.”

Rachel opened a folder and placed a few crime scene photos of Wexler and the other victims before Jennifer. She flinched at the gore.

“Do any of these men or woman look familiar?”

“No,” Jennifer said, eyes glued to the stab wounds on Wexler's naked corpse.

“Take a moment,” Rachel added. “Really think.”

Jennifer studied the photos one at a time. Her expression turned more horrific the more she looked at them. “I have never seen nor interacted with any of the individuals in these photographs.”

Peak pulled out a copy of the travel ledger. “Do you recall taking a trip to Yakima, Washington from August 18 through the 28th in the year 2008?”

“Yes. It was a business trip. Our agency is always looking to branch out into new territories.”

“How about Chama, New Mexico in March of 2001?”

“Yes. Another business trip.”

Peak threw in a curve ball. “San Rafael, California in July of 2003?”

Rachel recognized it as the date of one of the kills, but not one of Jennifer’s travel destinations.

Jennifer switched out the way she crossed her legs, putting right over left instead of left over right.

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