Cause to Kill (An Avery Black Mystery—Book 1)
Read Cause to Kill (An Avery Black Mystery—Book 1) Online
Authors: Blake Pierce
C A U S E T O K I L L
(AN AVERY BLACK
MYSTERY—BOOK 1)
B L A K E P I E R C E
Blake Pierce
Blake
Pierce is author of the bestselling RILEY PAGE mystery series, which include
the mystery suspense thrillers ONCE GONE (book #1), ONCE TAKEN (book #2) and
ONCE CRAVED (#3). Blake Pierce is also the author of the MACKENZIE WHITE
mystery series.
ONCE
GONE (book #1), which has over 100 five star reviews, is available as a
free download on Amazon!
An
avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Blake loves to
hear from you, so please feel free to visit
www.blakepierceauthor.com
to learn
more and stay in touch.
Copyright © 2016 by Blake Pierce. All
rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no
part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any
form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the
prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If
you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an
additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not
purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it
and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this
author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations,
places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living
or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright
miljko
, used under license from iStock.com.
BOOKS BY BLAKE PIERCE
RILEY PAIGE MYSTERY SERIES
ONCE GONE (Book #1)
ONCE TAKEN (Book #2)
ONCE CRAVED (Book #3)
MACKENZIE WHITE MYSTERY SERIES
BEFORE HE KILLS (Book #1)
AVERY WHITE MYSTERY SERIES
CAUSE TO KILL (Book #1)
CONTENTS
It was nearly impossible for Cindy Jenkins to leave her sorority’s
spring party at the Atrium. The massive penthouse space had been fitted with
strobe lights, two stocked bars, and a stellar crystal ball that sparkled down
on a dance floor packed with partygoers. Throughout the night, she’d danced
with no one and everyone. Partners came and went, and Cindy swung her auburn
hair and flashed a perfect smile and sky blue stare at any dancer that happened
to appear. This was
her
night, a celebration not just for Kappa Kappa
Gamma pride, but for the many hard years she’d strived to be the best.
Her future, she knew, was assured.
For the last two years, she’d interned at a major accounting firm
in town; they recently offered her a position as a junior accountant. The
starting salary would be enough to buy a posh new wardrobe and afford an
apartment only a few blocks away from work. Her grades? Top of the class. Sure,
she could coast until graduation, but Cindy didn’t understand the word “coast.”
She was all in, every day, no matter what she was doing. Work hard and play
hard, that was her motto; and tonight, she wanted to play.
Another cup of the highly alcoholic “Dreamy Blue Slush,” another
Kappa Kappa Gamma cheer, and another dance, and Cindy couldn’t keep the smile
off her face. In the strobe lights, she moved in slow motion. Her hair whipped
back and her perky nose crinkled at a boy she’d known for years that wanted a
kiss. Why not? she thought. Just a peck; nothing serious; nothing to hurt her
current relationship, just enough to let everyone at the party know that she
wasn’t
always
a Type-A goodie-goodie that followed the rules.
Friends spotted her and cheered in approval.
Cindy pulled away from the boy. The dancing and alcohol and heat
had finally taken its toll. She swooned slightly, still smiling, and held onto
the boy’s neck so she wouldn’t fall.
“Do you want to go to my house?” he whispered.
“I have a boyfriend.”
“Where is he?”
That’s right, Cindy thought. Where
is
Winston? He hated
sorority parties.
It’s just a bunch of stuck-up girls getting drunk and
cheating on their boyfriends
, he always said. Well, she thought, I guess I
can finally agree! Kissing a boy when she was already committed to another man
was probably the raciest thing she’d ever done.
You’re drunk
, she reminded herself.
Get out of here
.
“Gotta go,” she slurred.
“One more dance?”
“No,” she replied, “really, I’ve got to go.”
The boy begrudgingly accepted her terms. Staring lovingly at the
popular Harvard senior, he backed away into the crowd and offered a wave
goodbye.
Cindy slid a lock of sweaty hair behind her ear and made her way
off the dance floor, eyes low, happiness beaming on her face. Her favorite song
came on and she spun and swayed to the edge of the crowd.
“Noooo!” her friends moaned, as they saw her trying to leave.
“Where are you going?” one demanded.
“
Home
,” she insisted.
Her best friend, Rachel, pushed through the group and grabbed
Cindy’s hands. A short, stocky brunette, she wasn’t the prettiest or even the
smartest of the pack, but her aggressive, sexual nature usually made her the
center of attention. She wore a skimpy silver dress, and every time she moved,
her body seemed ready to burst out of the garment.
“You
can-not-go
!” she commanded.
“I’m
really
drunk,” Cindy pleaded.
“We haven’t even played our April Fool’s prank! That’s the
highlight of our party! Please? Just stay a little longer?”
Cindy thought of her boyfriend. They’d been together for two
years. That night, they were supposed to have a late-night rendezvous at her
apartment. She inwardly groaned at her uncharacteristic dance-floor kiss. How
am I supposed to explain
that
one? she wondered.
“
Seriously
,” she said, “I
have
to go,” and,
appealing to Rachel’s outrageously erotic nature, she glanced at the boy she’d
kissed and humorously added, “If I stay? Who
knows
what could happen?”
“
Oh
!
” her friends cheered.
“She is out of control!”
Cindy kissed Rachel on the cheek and whispered, “Have a great
night. See you tomorrow,” and headed for the door.
Outside, the cool spring air made Cindy take in a deep breath. She
wiped the sweat off her face and skipped up Church Street in her short yellow
summer dress. The downtown city block was mostly composed of low brick
buildings and a few stately houses nestled among trees. A left turn onto
Brattle Street and she crossed over and walked southwest.
Streetlamps lit most corners, but a section of Brattle Street was
blanketed in darkness. Rather than be worried, Cindy picked up her pace and
spread her arms wide, as if the shadows could somehow cleanse her system of
alcohol and exhaustion and energize her for the rendezvous with Winston.
A narrow alleyway came up on her left. Instinct told her to be
careful; it was, after all, extremely late and she wasn’t oblivious to the
seedier side of Boston, but she was also too high to believe anything could
possibly stand in the way of her future.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement, and too late,
she turned.
She felt a sudden sharp pain in her neck, one that made her catch
her breath, and she glanced back to see something shimmering in the light.
A needle.
Her heart plummeted, and her buzz wore off in a single instant.
At the same moment, she felt someone pressing into her back, a
single lean arm trapping hers. The body was smaller than her own, but strong.
With a yank, she was pulled backwards into the alley.
“Shhh.”
Any thought that it could be a prank vanished the moment she heard
the evil, strong voice.
She tried to kick and scream. For some reason, her voice wouldn’t
work, as if something had softened the muscles in her neck. Her legs, too,
began to feel like Jell-O, and she could barely keep her feet on the ground.
Do something!
she implored herself, knowing if she didn’t she would die.
The arm was around her right-hand side. Cindy turned out of the
hold, and at the same time jerked her neck back to head-butt her attacker. The
back of her skull smacked into his nose and she could almost hear a “crack.”
The man swore under his breath and released her.
Run!
Cindy pleaded.
But her body refused to comply. Her legs gave out from beneath
her, and she fell hard on the cement.
Cindy lay on her back, legs splayed and arms out at opposite
angles, unable to move.
The attacker kneeled down beside her. His face was obscured by a
sloppily placed wig, a fake moustache, and thick glasses. The eyes behind the
glasses sent a chill through her body: cold and hard. Soulless.
“I love you,” he said.
Cindy tried to scream; a gurgle came out.
The man nearly touched her face; then, as if aware of their
surroundings, he quickly stood.
Cindy felt herself gripped by the hands and pulled through the
alley.
Her eyes filled with tears.
Someone
, she mentally pleaded,
help me.
Help!
She remembered
her classmates, her friends, her laughter at the party.
Help!
At the end of the path, the small man lifted her up and hugged her
tight. Her head flopped on his shoulder. He lovingly stroked her hair.
He grabbed one of her hands and twirled her around like they were
lovers.
“It’s all right,” he said loudly, as if it were meant for others,
“I’ll get the door.”
Cindy spotted people farther off in the distance. Thinking was
difficult. Nothing would move; an effort to speak failed.
The passenger side of a blue minivan was opened. He plopped her
inside and carefully closed the door so that her head rested on the window.
On the driver’s side, he entered and placed a soft, pillow-like
sack over her head.
“Sleep, my love,” she said, turning the ignition. “Sleep.”
The van pulled away, and as Cindy’s mind faded into darkness, her
final thought was of her future, her bright, unbelievable future that had
suddenly, horribly been snatched away.
