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    December: Torture: A Prentiss Park Murder Mystery
    December: Torture: A Prentiss Park Murder Mystery
    December: Torture: A Prentiss Park Murder Mystery
    Ebook49 pages47 minutes

    December: Torture: A Prentiss Park Murder Mystery

    By Valda DeDieu

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    About this ebook

    As if the Native Americans had not been tortured enough by prior US Government administrations, someone was killing the members of Florida's Miccosukee tribe, mangling them almost beyond recognition.

    When the local FBI liaison is called in, he asks Detective Prentiss Park to take a look, thinking that there might be a connection to her recent “Apocalypse/Armageddon 2012” serial murder cases.

    With the help of a sinister stranger--a man she was sworn to kill--Prentiss begins to unfold a plot that takes her deep into the heart of the supernatural, terrible enough to plunge the whole world into darkness...

    This is a serialized novel. The next in the series is: January: Tyranny

    LanguageEnglish
    PublishereEdgeMedia, LLC
    Release dateDec 7, 2011
    ISBN9781301275779
    December: Torture: A Prentiss Park Murder Mystery
    Author

    Valda DeDieu

    Valda DeDieu is the talented author of numerous novels, poetry and non-fiction. Her original and exciting novels always touch on pertinent social mores in revelatory styles because, she says, she "collects people" --in a good way, of course. Her next project due is MY STUD, but she may become distracted and develop any of the five book ideas she may have, at any time.... She is always interested in a good read, and giving her readers *extra* bang for their buck!

    Read more from Valda De Dieu

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      Book preview

      December - Valda DeDieu

      The Prentiss Park Murders: December: Torture

      Valda DeDieu

      Copyright © 2011 by I. Didier

      The Smashwords Edition

      ***

      ***

      "When you’re a Homicide cop, everyday is murder." Det. Prentiss Parks

      THE PRENTISS PARK MURDERS

      Hi, my name is Prentiss Park, Daughter of the Sun. We are the Warrior People, sent to help govern Earth 2000 years ago. Most of us are in Law Enforcement. Some of us are rogues. My orders are to kill the rogues on sight, protect Earth at all costs. Being a mythological warrior woman is not bad; I still must obey strictly within my orders. (But I’m working on that.) Those of us who have this odd life, after we kill, we have a half-life. But there are some among us who belong to the afterlife...

      ***

      TORTURE:

      Zipping across the Everglades in an airboat, my butt bumping the hard seat painfully with the motor throbbing in my ears, is not my first choice of a way to see this scenic, restful place. But it was perhaps appropriate since my thoughts were anything but restful. With the earplugs on, no conversation was expected, so I was free to remain silent with my thoughts...

      Tribal police usually handled matters in the Miccosukee reservation, but these strings of murders they felt sure, had the hand of a white man, and so, FBI had been called in; the local FBI liaison, Fredrick had intuited that these murders were connected to a string of cases that the MBPD...(namely, moi, and my partner, Magdalena had closed)...

      Intuited. I inwardly scoffed at the word when applying to a male. But so far, Frederick of the FBI had surprised me. He was completely ego-free; the first man I’d worked with who could be counted on the put the job, before that most irritating of burrs, the male pride.

      As if catching my thought, he looked at me, and I glanced away, feeling his eyes settle thoughtfully on my profile. Frederick had the huge, well-defined physique of a weightlifter. He was an imposing black man, with the coloring of pale coffee, and dark hazel eyes that missed nothing. Well at least, he wasn’t checking out my butt.

      The stunning vista that is the Everglades lay before me, huge Mangroves with their roots spreading out into the water, the filmy green grass that was native to Florida waving gently in the wind, bright bursts of color adorning vegetation that made a green carpet as far as the eye could see. Here, there, disturbed my the noisy airboat, one could see a graceful white heron spring up from the grass, or fly above, only to settle down again once the danger has passed.

      The pristine waters made a sparkling blue, dancing wet surface beneath the airboat for miles ahead and behind us, mirroring the clear, cloudless sky above. The air was cool, sweet and clean.

      I wondered how this place must have looked when first visited by the White man. Indeed, it must have seemed like a place out of a book, after some of the badlands that had been settled by the frontier tribes. With an abundance of food: animals, fish and plants, seemingly easily caught by the Native American tribes then, it must have seemed like heaven to some of the visitors...If only the tribe had known then, what they know now...

      My thoughts were interrupted by the guide calling out: We’re almost there. The Chief is waiting for you.

      We swiftly disembarked and found our way, with our guide leading us, the the Chief’s office. The reservation was very clean and orderly, a collection of what looked like wooden longhouses, with brilliant art tattooed on the walls. There was not much greenery in between.

      ***

      WHITE MAN WILL BLOW HIMSELF OFF FACE OF THE EARTH The

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