Naked Dragon

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Authors: G. A. Hauser

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Naked Dragon

by G.A. Hauser

Linden Bay Romance, LLC

www.lindenbayromance.com

Copyright ©2007 by G.A. Hauser

First published in www.lindenbayromance.com, 2007

NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to others.

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Naked Dragon

by G.A. Hauser

Naked Dragon

G.A.HAUSER

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Naked Dragon

by G.A. Hauser

NAKED DRAGON

Published by Linden Bay Romance, 2007

Linden Bay Romance, LLC, U.S.

ISBN Trade paperback: 978-1-60202-064-1

ISBN MS Reader (LIT): 978-1-60202-065-8

Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned): PDF, PRC & HTML

Copyright © G.A. HAUSER, 2007

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The work is protected by copyright and should not be copied without permission. Linden Bay Romance, LLC

reserves all rights. Re-use or re-distribution of any and all materials is prohibited under law.

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events or locales is coincidental.

Cover art by Beverly Maxwell

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This book is dedicated to the diverse men and women of the Seattle Police Department. Working with the rank and file on patrol for nearly a decade has forever changed my life. To each cop I met and had the pleasure of working with, I want to thank you and say you are a source of inspiration to me in my new line of work. This novel is for you. Be safe.

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Chapter One

He knew when the call came out what it was. The dispatcher said 'suspicious circumstances'. But he knew.

Parking his patrol car near the location, Officer Dave Harris advised the dispatcher he was there and standing by for his supervisor. The dispatcher acknowledged him.

Checking the time on the clock in the dashboard, seeing it was nearing the end of his shift, he rubbed his eyes wearily and then ran his hand over his shaved head. "This is going to be ugly," he whispered to himself. It was the third call of its kind in three days and he'd been dispatched to two out of the three. It was his beat, after all. The International District, Seattle's own version of China Town, was nestled on the east side of Interstate 5 and north of Interstate 90. He knew every back street like it had been tattooed on his brain.

Another patrol car pulled up behind him. He raised his head to the rear view mirror and then grabbed his hat and stuck it on his head as he climbed out.

"Sarge," he nodded in greeting.

"Shit," Sgt. Wilson sighed in disgust and adjusted his own hat to fit properly before walking to the front door of the apartment building. "You ready for this?"

"As I can be." Dave tried to grin, but ended up swallowing some black water that had come up in his throat. He waited patiently as Sgt. Wilson made sure he had a pair of rubber gloves in his pocket, then he pushed the grimy button on the list of names for the manager's apartment.

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When a voice crackled through the intercom, Dave enunciated clearly, "Seattle Police."

Immediately the buzzer sounded and he opened the door to the hallway. The smell of urine and stale cooking odor hit him in the face instantly. The fact that it was August didn't help. A tiny Chinese man nodded to him and waved him inside. Without a word he led them to a room. The man pointed to a single drop of blood that ran down the front of the door, then he stuck a key into the lock and turned it.

Once it was unlocked he backed up, waiting for them to enter first.

Dave inhaled the musty air deeply for courage, then pushed back the door. It was the same nightmare as the last two. The amount of blood was inconceivable. Both men immediately put on their gloves and paused before entering.

Sgt. Wilson whispered, "We gotta find the body, Dave."

"I know, sarge."

"You want me to go in first?"

"No. I'm all right." Dave bit his lip and shouted inside his head,
You're a big black powerful mutha-fuckin' cop, get your
ass in there!
Carefully avoiding pooled blood, he stepped in and looked around the cramped space. The tiny living room contained a worn out sofa, once rust color, now it fell somewhere between dust-ball brown and a rotten blotchy orange peel. He knew the body would be in the bedroom.

They all were.

He felt the warm pressure of Sgt. Wilson's hand on his shoulder, reassuring. They both looked around the bend in 7

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the doorway and found him. Another young Asian male eviscerated and butchered.

The moment Sgt. Wilson found him, he whispered, "All right. Let's get out, secure the scene, and call homicide."

"Okay." Carefully avoiding areas with drying human organs and blood, Dave tiptoed out and then exhaled deeply when they were standing in the hall.

"Get as much info from the landlord as you can."

Dave nodded as his sergeant took out his cell phone to call the detectives.

With his pad in his hand, Dave walked over to the tiny man and asked, "Do you have the boy's name?"

He nodded. "He just move in this morning. He gave me a week rent." He handed him a card with everything he knew already written down on it. Nodding thanks, Dave took it and copied all the information onto his pad. The victim was only seventeen. When he handed back the card to the man he asked, "Does he have any family here?"

"I don't know. He may be on his own."

"Did you hear anything? Anything at all today coming from that room?"

"No. Nothing. I hear nothing. I live in another building. I no normally stay here. I just saw the blood, that's all. Saw that blood." He referred to the single running drop of red that ran down the victim's door.

"Okay. Here's my card with the case number on it. Call me if you find out who his family is." The little man nodded, taking the card.

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Dave pocketed the pad and stood by his sergeant as he relayed the details of the scene to homicide.

"...yeah ... same thing. Okay. No, it's just myself and one other officer. You want more? No. It's just this one unit. Yes.

We could knock and ask around ... are they? Huh. No. We'll wait around for them then. No. Hey, if they want the case who gives a shit? Yeah ... okay. Thanks, Max. I'll be here when you get here." He hung up the phone and said, "The FBI are coming to the scene. Believe it?"

"Yeah? Why?"

"They had similar killings in Oregon last month."

"They did? I didn't hear anything about it."

Sgt. Wilson looked over his shoulder at the soiled door and then whispered, "Me neither. But, are you surprised they kept this quiet? Christ, I'm not. They did the same thing when the Green River killer was doing his thing."

"Did I hear you say they're going to do the investigation?"

"Yeah. So, just do a quick report and title it DOA and list the victim's name. Then put one copy on my desk, give one to the late shift sarge, then one to homicide."

"All right." Dave heard someone talking in another unit. It was in another language and too garbled to understand anything any way.

"Wait here. I'll go to the front door to let homicide in. It'll be a while. Do you mind the overtime?"

"No. I'm cool with it."

Sgt. Wilson winked at him, then left him standing there at the apartment door. Crossing his arms over his bullet proof vest, Dave leaned back against the wall and tried to rest his 9

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body. What did he have to get home to? An empty condominium and a microwave dinner? No. He'd rather have the money. Besides, the FBI were on the case. How cool was that?

Bending his stiff knees as he waited, Dave finally heard voices coming his way. A group of men filed down the hall all dressed in white bio-hazard suits. His sergeant was filling the homicide unit in on the details.

"...we haven't touched a thing. We just walked in, confirmed there was a body, and walked out."

"Right. That's great, Mike. We'll have a look. The agents were right behind us on the way here, so they should be out there by now."

"Right."

Dave backed up as they opened the apartment door and peered in. He couldn't help but look over their shoulder again.

Reddish brown smears covered the walls. It was a gruesome sight. He noticed his sergeant gesturing for him to step outside with him for a moment. Following him down the narrow corridor, eager for some fresh air, he stepped outside into the twilight and took a deep breath.

"You want me to get a third watch officer to relieve you?"

Dave checked his watch. It was only nine p.m.. "I'll take one more hour of overtime, if that's okay with you."

A smile emerged on Sgt. Wilson's dark caramel-colored face. "You got it, bro. Me? I've got to get home to the Mrs."

Dave reached out to clasp his hand and shook it. "See ya tomorrow, sarge."

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Sgt. Wilson nodded, saying, "All right, you take it easy,"

then waved at him. As he watched his supervisor get into his patrol car, Dave noticed a black sedan pull up behind him as he left. Three men in suits climbed out.

One very short man with bad pocked-marked skin approached him. "Are you the primary unit?" he asked in a nasal voice.

"Yes, sir." Dave nodded.

"We're with the FBI." He flipped out his ID card. "Can you show us where the incident is?"

"Yes, sir." Dave walked with them through the front entrance which had been propped open for easy access, and escorted them to the correct unit. The small man nodded and then stood at the doorway as the homicide men and crime lab unit took photos and tissue samples.

Standing back, out of the way, Dave looked up at the other two FBI agents and found one lagging behind.

Ironically, he didn't seem to fit in with his colleagues. His hair was too long for a start, and he was more likely to be in a Hollywood version of a crime movie rather than a real one. As he watched, this man had closed his eyes and appeared to be either resting or meditating. Whatever he was doing, Dave thought his behavior, under the circumstances, was very odd.

The dull murmur of voices continued behind him as the homicide detectives conferred with the federal agents. Dave was fascinated by this handsome man and watched him carefully.

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When this FBI agent's eyes blinked open suddenly and the brilliant blue color of his irises met his gaze, Dave looked away quickly, ashamed to be caught staring.

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