Harlequin Romantic Suspense April 2021 Karen Whiddon (best fiction books to read TXT) 📖

“And I’m here with Jinxy,” said Julia. She joined Luis on the couch and rubbed the cat’s head.

Luis couldn’t help but smile.

Julia continued, “I was thinking about the plan for today. I still think that speaking to Darcy Owens is the next step in this case.”

He knew it, too. “You should call her attorney. Or better yet, get Chloe Ryder to make the arrangements.”

“I’m way ahead of you.” Julia slipped her phone from her pocket. “I texted Chloe. She’s going to make calls and get back to me.” The phone pinged with an incoming text.

“That was fast,” said Luis.

“It’s a text from Doc Lambert.” Julia began reading. “He’s got some results from Tom Dolan’s tests back already,” she informed him. “He wants us to stop by the morgue.”

“Get ready,” said Luis. “And we’ll get started. Today’s going to be another long day.”

It took less than thirty minutes for both Julia and Luis to shower, get ready and eat breakfast. Since his apartment was in the middle of downtown Pleasant Pines, they walked to the hospital under a gray sky that spit cold rain.

The morgue was located in the basement and they descended a staircase that led to a white-tiled hallway. Halfway down the corridor, a blue plastic sign hung from a set of chains. Morgue.

Luis shouldered open one of the stainless-steel doors and entered the room. The floor and walls were covered in the same white tiles as the hallway. One wall was taken up by a set of sinks and a long steel counter. The opposite wall was filled with metal coolers, used to store bodies. In the middle of the floor was a gurney. A blue cloth was draped over the stretcher and a body was beneath.

Doc Lambert stood at the sink, entering information into a tablet computer.

“Morning, Doc,” said Luis as the older man looked up.

He nodded a greeting to both Luis and Julia.

“Thanks to the calls made by the DA, we were able to get the toxicology tests expedited.” Doc Lambert set aside the tablet. “Well, it seems as though the deceased had a large amount of alcohol in his system.”

“I’m not surprised,” said Luis. “I could smell the booze on him.”

“Is that it?” asked Julia.

“I’m afraid not. We found trace amounts of the same anti-nausea medication Darcy Owens used on her victims, as well.” Doc Lambert concluded, “This death is consistent with all the others of Darcy Owens.”

Darcy had poisoned her victims by lulling them into a drunken stupor with large amounts of alcohol. Then, she slipped them an anti-nausea med to keep them from expelling the booze as a body would naturally do. It was devious to make it look like all the deaths were natural overdoses and one way that her murders had gone undetected for years.

The facts were all pointing in the same direction. “But it can’t be Darcy,” said Luis. “Because she’s in jail. But it’s someone who knew her...and knew her well.”

Julia turned to the doctor. “Can Tom Dolan’s body be released?”

“Now it can,” he said.

“Good,” said Julia. She was already walking toward the door. “I’m going to call Sean Reynolds...and then, we have to do it.”

Luis knew what she meant by it. They had to go and speak to Darcy Owens, a notorious serial killer.

* * *

Like the childhood game of telephone, arrangements had been made. Julia had called Chloe. Chloe had called Darcy’s attorney, who then contacted his client.

Would Darcy be willing to talk to the sheriff of Pleasant Pines about a recent killing?

The answer came back the same way it went out. Sheriff McCloud could speak to Darcy, but only about the newest death and only for twenty minutes.

Julia didn’t like the parameters of the meeting. And, honestly, she hated that Darcy was the one calling all the shots, but as they prepared to leave, she said to Luis, “We owe Tom Dolan and his family to find out what happened. I don’t think we have any choice but to play Darcy’s game.”

The Northern Wyoming Correctional Facility sat on a remote strip of land about an hour north of Pleasant Pines. In this part of the state, no trees grew, leaving the landscape barren. Julia sat behind the steering wheel, and to her, it looked like they’d driven to the moon.

NWCF housed a wide-range of inmates—some, like Darcy, were awaiting trial, but for a variety of reasons hadn’t made or been given bail. Others had been convicted of crimes and the regional jail was deemed to be the most appropriate facility.

Aside from the jail, there wasn’t another building for miles. The perimeter was surrounded by two sets of fences that were topped with razor wire. The building, a one-story square, was made of gray brick. A gravel driveway led across a flat expanse of land, connecting the single gate to the main road. Julia figured the desolate location had been chosen to easily spot anyone who might make a run for it.

On a single guard tower a lone guard stood sentinel and looked down at their approach.

It wouldn’t be enough if Darcy ever escaped.

Julia pulled up to the gate. A call box sat on a post. There was a burst of static followed by a disembodied female voice. “Can I help you?”

“Sheriff Julia McCloud, here to meet with Darcy Owens.”

With a rattle and a whir, the gates slid open. The gravel parking lot held only half a dozen cars and Julia chose a spot in the middle. The metal-and-glass front door reflected the late morning sky, almost seeming to sparkle with the light. Both Julia and Luis locked their sidearms in the glove box. Taking a gun into the jail was strictly prohibited. Walking through the front door with a gun meant one thing: the firearm would have to be surrendered.

“Let’s go,” said Luis, opening the door and jumping from the truck.

She noted that he winced as he took a step. “How’s the ankle?”

“I’m tough. I’ll live.”

She smiled. “I