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eBook Details
Description
Mick Doran is a former city police detective, now working with the Metropolitan Transit Authority. Down on his luck, and hypochondriacal as hell, he's assumed to be washed up, no good and useless as a detective until fate drops a murder investigation on his train.Assigned to work alongside his ex-wife's detective husband, Mick must battle his own demons as well as the disapproval of the Suffolk County Police Department while they wade through evidence, hostile witnesses and an increasing suspect list. Reader Rating: Not rated (0 Ratings)
Excerpt:
Inside the dark tent, Mick knew he was vulnerable an attack and did not want to stay inside for too long. He imagine that at any moment, anyone could pounce on him. He read the first page of the notebook. Cheer in the kitchen as I build a mission formed with maps and legends. MR RICHARDS. He studied some crude drawings of women and what looked like journal entries, but there was no mention of the deaths. He flipped through the book, and found what he was looking for. The descriptions were brief.The first—KE, quick and without a fight. Sleeping. Accepted. Like he knew it was his time while in a dream. 2) Brought her to her feet and pulled her head back. Life ceased. Her eyes were open. There was a rough drawing of the Oldenberg scene. Mick was startled by his loud breathing as it broke the silence; fast and ragged in that small chamber. He wanted the book as evidence. The whole area needed to be closed off. He opened his cell to make a call but the battery was dead. Leaves dripped off rain in a steady beat. Frogs croaked and crickets cracked the peace. Just then the world became silent. He felt there was something approaching. Slow steps crunched damp twigs from deep within the woods, and he turned off the flashlight and quickly crawled out of the tent. He strained his eyes into the darkness. There was nothing but the looming dark figures of wet trees. He stared so long his eyes burned. He squeezed them shut, then open twice. What was that? He squinted again. Yes, there it was, a shadowed apparition. His mind raced back and forth. Was it an animal? Maybe it was a deer because it moved fast as if it sensed Mick’s presence. Then it disappeared. Mick pulled out his gun, jumped up to his feet and ran after it. Whatever it was took flight, hurling itself through the bushes. Branches cracked as they both slid down the hill, but he couldn’t get to it. His heart was racing and he called out, "Stop! Police!" but the thing did not stop, it made its way toward the river. Mick heard splashing and then silence.
Killer Commute
By: Michael Robert Gordon
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