Her Last Scream
A serial-killer targets the country’s most vulnerable women in this thriller featuring Detective Carson Ryder.They thought they were safe at last…Across the US, a secret network of crisis centres permanently relocates women in serious danger from domestic abuse. But now someone is killing them before they reach their destinations.Detectives Carson Ryder and Harry Nautilus are having trouble gaining the trust of the volunteers who run the scheme. The only way in is for an undercover police officer to pose as a threatened woman, making herself a target and drawing the killer out.Reinetta Early is the ideal candidate – but she also happens to be Harry’s niece. He always promised his sister that he would keep Reinetta safe from harm. Suddenly he’s unsure if he can even keep her alive…
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Her Last Scream
J.A. Kerley
To the amazing Miz Linda Lou and the deliciously evil Nurse Jane
(here insert the authorâs wicked laughter)
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Treeka Flood counted the Beef-a-Roni cans in her shopping buggy for the third time, one, two, three. She rounded an aisle without noticing, busy counting jars of tamales, one, two, three. Boxes of macaroni, one, two â
Treeka froze. Counted again, one, two â¦
Treeka saw the final macaroni box under the packs of tortillas â three! â and sighed with relief. The macaroni was Muellerâs Large Elbows, the only kind Tommy would eat, saying smaller sizes felt âwormyâ in his mouth. Count the tortillas again to be safe: One, two, three. There had to be three of everything: One for the meal, one for the back-up in the pantry, at least one more for the food cache in the basement. If Tommy saw something missing, sheâd have to wear the big sunglasses.
Checking her list, Treeka absent-mindedly wheeled to the next aisle. Sardines in mustard sauce. One, two, three. Bumble Bee Tuna in oil â¦
Last month Treeka had forgotten to buy more canned hams after Tommy used two on a fishing trip. Heâd noticed the open shelf space â he looked for infractions â and Treeka had to wear the big sunglasses for a week to hide her blackened eyes.
At the end of the aisle Treeka saw chubby, red-haired Brenda Mallory chattering with a supermarket employee. Treeka froze and angled her face away, becoming an anonymous shopper checking a label. Mallory was Treekaâs apartment-building neighbor from two years back, before Treekaâd gotten married and moved from Denver to the ranch near Estes Park, Colorado.
Mallory pushed her buggy toward the checkout lanes and Treeka relaxed. Talking to Brenda would only cause trouble. And what could Treeka possibly say when Brenda asked about Treekaâs new life?
Treeka counted every item again, then backpedaled one aisle, expecting to see Tommy. The only inhabitants of the corridor were a college kid with a six-pack of Red Bull and a tall and white-haired elderly lady pushing a buggy.
No Tommy.
Panic slammed Treekaâs heart and she yanked the buggy back another aisle. Tommy wasnât there, either. How had she gotten so far ahead?
Oh Jesus, please no ⦠where is he?
There! Tommy jogged past the far end of the aisle, eyes knifing down the lane, his hands bunched into fists. He glowered up at the aisle number: Six. Tommy must have been back in five when Treeka somehow wandered ahead to aisle eight.
Oh shit oh shit oh shit â¦
Tommy strode to Treeka, the metal plates on his cowboy boots ticking like a bomb. They were alone in the aisle and he grabbed Treekaâs arm. âWhere were you?â he hissed, pushing back his gray Stetson, cold green eyes daring Treeka to lie. âWhere did you go?â
Treeka let her mouth droop open, trying to appear puzzled. Dumb was the best place to hide.
âIâve been right here, hon,â she said, lifting a box of crackers like sheâd been in aisle six all the time. âDidnât you see me? I got my shoppinâ dress on.â Tommy made Treeka shop in a bright yellow dress because it made her easier to see in a crowd.
Tommy slapped the crackers to the floor. âI goddamn asked where you were,â he repeated. âYou too stupid to understand English, or what?â
Treeka laughed like Tommy was making a joke. âI been here all the time, babe,â she said, stooping to retrieve the crackers. âYou must have been going around an end same time I was and we crossed past each other.â
Tommy studied the items in Treekaâs buggy, then did something to run blades of ice down Treekaâs spine: He smiled. It was the same smile Treeka had fallen in love with twenty-six months ago, wide and thin-lipped and brimming with teeth. But now Tommyâs smile terrified her; it meant the snakes in his head were heated up and moving.
âWhatâs this?â he asked, reaching into the buggy and tapping a can of tuna. Treeka instinctively started counting tuna cans. One, two ⦠Then she saw what was wrong.
Oh Jesus no. Oh shit.
âTommy â¦â Treeka whispered. âI didnât mean to ââ
âItâs tuna, Treek. From aisle eight, right? How many numbers is five from eight?â
âI got ahead of myself, Tommy,â Treeka explained as her breath ran out. âI thought you w-was right behind me.â
