CHAPTER 1
ANDERSON
Detective Sam Price slammed the door to his unmarked vehicle when he arrived on the scene. The lights from the police cars creating the perimeter were just another warning, another sign, that things were not as they should have been.
On this side of town there shouldn’t have been reporters vying for a spot at the police line, but there they were. It was another layer Sam had to work through to get to where he could try and bring the bad guy to justice. It was what drove him, what led him to police life.
When the scum bags broke into his home and murdered his mother, Sam was only 12, but it left a big impression. It was what fueled him for so long. It gave birth to his rage as he was growing up, which didn’t always have the healthiest outlets.
When the detective who was assigned his mother’s case sat him down at 17, he finally found a path and a way to put his anger into something useful.
The man was all bark, gruff and to the point from the moment Sam had met him years before. “Sam,” he snapped, “you’re on the wrong path and I can’t believe your mother would be proud to look down at you right now. You’ve gotten into trouble and your future is hanging in the balance.” He crossed his arms across his barrel chest, his eyes boring into the teenager. “What path are you going to choose? It’s dog eat dog out there as it is, you’re only making it harder.”
Sam tucked his tail between his legs, hating how the detective used his mother to make his point, but also understanding it. He knew his mother wouldn’t have been proud of him. He was suspended from school because of another fight. This time he was defending someone and taking down a bully, but it didn’t make it right.
Sam knew it.
It didn’t stop him though. He had felt compelled to help and rescue the person who needed it.
He still has the same sense of rightness now, proud to be a detective who can help the people who need it and put away the bad guys.
Ducking under the police tape, Sam strode confidently further down the alleyway, seeing his partner and crime scene techs taking in the scene. It was the last place he wanted to be tonight, even though he loved his job. Applying to the police academy was the best thing he ever did, but this part of the job never got easier and was never something he looked forward to.
Sam looked back over his shoulder when one of the reporters, Suzie Lancaster, called out above the rest of the cacophony, “Is this the work of the Dog Walker Killer? Don’t the citizens of our city deserve to know how much danger they’re in? How many more need to die before you arrest him, Detective?”
Each question was fired with more conviction, as a fire burned in her eyes. Sam considered it a shame she was on the other side of the fight. Sam knew Suzie would have made a damn good officer. She had the tenacity for it.
She was like a dog with a bone. Sam knew she’d keep running down this story until she got the scoop. He scowled with the thought because it would put her in danger which is not what a woman like Suzie should be looking for. He couldn’t stop her. She had made it very clear by running after stories like they’re squirrels, and she’s gone off leash.
He turned his back on the intrepid reporter. Not only could Sam not talk about an open investigation, but if he continued to look at the woman, his head wouldn’t be in the game. Her yelled questions were spot on. This was the fifth suspected victim of a serial killer.
As Sam walked farther up the alley, he saw Officer Donaldson standing above the body, as someone from the medical examiner’s office worked. By the look on Donaldson’s face, Sam knew the murder was brutal.
Each one was. It made Sam want to go rabid, but he couldn’t give into the need. He had to keep the city safe. It was his--BARK.
The barking coming from next door reaches a fevered pitch, breaking through the incredibly thin hold I had on the scene in my head. As if I need more distractions. As if every single fucking word isn’t a struggle already.
I don’t know why writing this book is like walking through quicksand, but I feel like I’m fighting it every step of the way. It shouldn’t. My last four flowed. They are what got me where I am today.
Am I rich and famous? No, but I’m doing okay and finally doing what I dreamed of when I was a little kid. I always wanted to be a writer.
The dream has officially become a nightmare.
A nightmare with loud fucking barking.
I know the dog’s name is Boomer because the first time I met Reese, my neighbor, was the day I moved in, and she was coming in from taking the dog for a walk. She was more than happy to introduce herself and the dog.
When I looked at her, I felt this zing through my body, but I figured it was just the thrill you get when you meet someone new. Even if that someone new is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. The same woman who made me wish I wasn’t so jaded about relationships. She was all effervescence and smiles.
“Hi,” her voice was chipper as she looked me over. For a moment I thought there was interest in her gaze, but I shook it off. Getting involved with your neighbor isn’t smart. Especially not on day one, even if everything in me wanted to grab her and kiss her. “I’m Reese.” She peered around my body as best she could, her chocolate brown eyes taking me in. “You’re my new neighbor?”
I grunted, “That’s what the lease says.”
Reese wasn’t put off like so many people are when they meet me. She smiled through my retort, nodding slowly. She picked up her dog, stopping him from weaving through her legs and then mine.
“This is Boomer. He’s a good boy. He loves to curl up in the sun most of the day.” Her smile was so big and bright I thought I might go blind at any moment. “He loves walks in the park too. That’s where we’re coming from.”
“Is the park nice?”