Sin No More (A Gray Foxx Thriller)

Sin No More

(A Gray Foxx Thriller)

By Syd Parker

Smashwords Edition

© 2013 Syd Parker Books

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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 to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Sin No More

Copyright © 2013 by Syd Parker

Cover Design: BNKreative Designs

Published by: Syd Parker Books

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

For my love, who inspires greatness in me.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

As book two progressed, it became obvious that it was about two heroines and not just Detective Foxx. Someone said of The Killing Ground that they had to keep reminding themselves that it was Rebecca’s story. This was truer than I knew at the time. So the change to A Gray Foxx Thriller is for that person. Also, for the reviewer that mentioned street names, I hope to have fixed that here. Sadly, Mapquest cannot be trusted.

I would like to thank Sarah for supporting my crazy. I have this whole personality that seems rather sick and twisted and she listens and offers feedback without threatening to have me locked up. She has kept me going during moments when I wanted to stop and given me something to lean on when times were tough. Thank you for making me good!

To Grace, my co-conspirator and sister galore. You are an amazing woman. I am proud of everything you have accomplished. Long ago…never mind.

Ruthie, sharer of my birthday. Keep looking, eventually you will find yourself and realize you are good person.

Pop, thank you for always loving me. I remember when I came out you put your arm around me and promised that I would always be your little girl no matter what. You have always supported me in whatever I’ve set my mind to. Even if it isn’t true, I am proud to be your favorite daughter.

Mom, you are amazing! You are such a hard-working, loving person. You put everyone in front of you and make sure that no matter what, people are taken care of. You raised seven of us without blinking an eye. You have shown us so much love. You taught us to be responsible and independent, to care for others and to be kind, compassionate adults. Thank you for instilling in us such good values.

To Brit, you have an amazing talent. Your creative eye is incredible. Thank you for taking me to the next level.

To Terry, I will always be in your debt. Thank you for picking up a new indie author and giving her a shove into this crazy world.

"My God,

I am sorry for my sins with all my heart.

In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good,

I have sinned against you

whom I should love above all things.

I firmly intend, with your help,

to do penance, to sin no more,

and to avoid whatever leads me to sin.

Our Saviour Jesus Christ suffered and died for us.

In His Name, my God, have mercy.

Amen.."

--Catholic Prayers, Act of Contrition #3

Prologue

The soft sounds of Ave Maria fill the room and surge through my soul. I glance up at the statue of the Virgin Mother and a small smile plays in the corner of my mouth. Her benevolent smile has blessed me and my duty this day. I close my eyes and let the notes bathe me in their rich beauty. Several deep breaths later, the sound of rattling metal brings me back to reality. Shh, now. Stop fighting me. It will go easier if you just lay still. I look down at the wide eyes staring up at me and put my forefinger to my lips. This is God’s bidding. You have sinned, and your sacrifice will erase those sins.

He jerks violently against the chains that I have wrapped around his body. I can see him strain against the tape over his mouth. I know he is screaming inside. I place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze him gently. My son, you must know how much it pleases your Father to see you so repentant.

He is stripped of his earthly coils and lies naked before me. I can see the bumps that cover his body, chilled from the stone slab beneath him. As I busy myself with the preparations, my mind slips back in time, and I see her body lying broken on the floor. He is standing over her, his fists clenching reflexively. I run into the room and position my body between theirs, offering what little bit of protection I can.

"No, Father!"

A punishing blow strikes my cheek. I can feel my body slam into the floor beside her. Stubbornly, I push up on my elbows and glare at him defiantly. You leave her alone.

He grabs the small boy huddled in the corner and flings him away violently. Take your pick. It’s your mother or your brother. The bible says thou shalt not steal. Now you must be punished.

I shake my head and see the gleam of his white teeth beneath the curl of his disgusted lip. A bible hangs loosely in his other hand. I can’t remember when he turned into a monster, but I remember every blow to my mother and my brother. This is my punishment, he reminds me. My eyes dart between the two of them. They both look like wounded animals, and I know I can’t protect them both. He starts toward my brother again. I scramble like a dog on all fours and position myself in front of him. I shoot an apologetic look toward my mother. She doesn’t see it. She has already slipped inside herself. I can see from the glossy look in her eyes. She is hiding from his blows. My blows. The ones he means for me. This is my punishment. He knows it hurts more to wound them than hitting me ever will. It is too much to watch. I take my brother’s hand, and we slip quietly from the room. I can hear the echo as his hand hits her over and over again, even though it is my name on his lips.

A loud noise wakes me from my nightmare. The bells are pealing all around me, reverberating through my body. I must begin the Sacraments. I rest my hand on his forehead and smile benignly. I reach for a bowl of oil and breathe over it deeply, inhaling the aromatic scent of balsam. I feel a charge deep within, and I know the Holy Spirit has joined us. I dip my finger in a small bowl of warm oil and rub it across his forehead, sanctifying his body. Make this chrism a sign of life and salvation for those who are to be born again in the waters of baptism. Wash away the evil they have inherited from sinful Adam, and when they are anointed with this holy oil make them temples of your glory, radiant with the goodness of life that has its source in you.

I can see he is tired now and the fight has left his body, small tears well in the corners of his eyes as he accepts his fate sadly. No, no, don’t be sad. Don’t you see? This is a special day for you. I rub the rosary beads in my hand and loop the necklace around my neck. Today, you will be forgiven for all your sins. I can see that you know who I am and why you must die.

The tears are streaming down his face now. They hit the sacrificial altar with quiet drops that echo into the massive room. I look around; making sure no one has joined me. A glance at my watch evokes a smile. I still have two more hours-plenty of time to prepare the earthly vessel for atonement. He will not take this body with him. I spread oil over his shoulders and down his arms, paying special attention to his hands. The hands dirtied by sin must be clean for the offering. Do you know how important this day will prove for you? My son, you shall live forever after today. There will be no more running.

He shakes his head, and his eyes jump at the flash of my knife. I lean in and whisper in his ear, quoting scripture. No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money. He jerks again and I catch his chin in my hand, forcing him to look at me. You have sinned. You see only money and not what you should see. Your family suffers because you are selfish. I pull away and rub oil over his chest. It is time.

My knife finds a point on his chest and presses against his flesh slowly. They must know the sins he has committed. God can see his heart. I can see his heart. However, they cannot and they must see why he has paid the ultimate price. I push the knife into his chest, breaking the skin. I barely wince at the anguished howl that seems to fill the room. The wound has begun to bleed, and I gently dab the red liquid away so I can see my work. His body is trembling wildly now. The pain can only be described as unbearable. I have felt this pain, and hell couldn’t compare. The pain is making him weak. He passes out, and I slap his cheek. Wake up. You don’t want to miss this. I want you to sense the moment your spirit starts to leave your wicked body, and you leave your sins behind. No sin can go unpunished, and today you will pay the price for yours.

His head lolls sideways again, and I slam my hand into his chest, making the cuts bleed again. Do you know yet why I have chosen you?

He shakes his head again, and I smile condescendingly. I press the heel of my hand into his chest. Confessing your sins is no longer enough. You cannot buy your way out of sin. Forgiveness can only be obtained by your sacrifice, like your heavenly Father before you.

He arches against my hand, shaking violently. Your heart does not belong to God. It belongs to the Devil, and we must rid you of your sinful heart. I ignore the muted scream and dip the knife in the oil, rubbing it over his chest. Merciful Father, I am guilty of sin. I confess my sins before you, and I am sorry for them. Your promises are just; therefore, I trust that you will forgive me my sins and cleanse me from every stain of sin. Jesus himself is the proposition for my sins and those of the whole world. I put my hope in his atonement.

I make the sign of the cross over his body. May my sins be forgiven through His name, and in His blood may my soul be made clean. Raising my arms in the air, the glint of the knife catches the sun and sends beams of light cascading around us in a heavenly sign. In a split second, I bring the knife down in a powerful arc and plunge it into his abdomen and through his diaphragm. His body arches up and jerks angrily, as an almost primal scream escapes his throat. I push my hand deep inside him and grasp the soft, palpitating muscle. He is still alive, the pain and fear of a wounded animal in his eyes. He cannot even scream, but I can see the bulge of his veins in his throat, and I know he is trying. He jerks against his chains wildly. I squeeze the muscle in my hand, and I can see the pain it causes. Good. I know he is feeling the punishment for his sins. He cannot yet see the pain is short-lived. I grasp his heart more tightly and jerk violently, pulling the beating flesh from his body. I can see the very moment he feels the life ebbing from his body. I hold his heart in front of my face and watch as the pulse slows and finally stops. I place the wicked flesh in the bowl and grab a saw. It is time to rid his body of the part that carried out the thoughts of his evil heart.

I finish sawing the hand from his body, removing the manifestation of his sins, as his lifeless eyes look on. It is for this that he has given up everything. The blood drips between my fingers and lands on the table beside him. I lay the knife down and put his hand and his heart beside his body. I can now finish the preparation of his body. A glance at the clock quickens my pace. I am not safe here much longer, and I must finish before they arrive.

His lifeless eyes stare hauntingly at me, and I shiver, suddenly chilled. I purposely look away from his face, unable to see the accusation I imagine is there. A church bell chimes in the distance, startling me even further. I hurriedly cleanse away the blood that has pooled around him and complete the ritual.

In a way, I have found my own absolution in this sacrifice. A sacrifice offered, and a sin forgiven. So it was in the days of our forefathers, and so it shall continue to this day.

Chapter 1

Rebecca Foxx studied her lover closely. She smothered a smile and continued to watch Jordan Gray, enjoying the few quiet moments of uninterrupted observation. Her dark-brown hair fell in haphazard waves over her eyes and every couple seconds, Jordan would run an impatient hand through her hair. Her sun-kissed skin set off her deep-blue eyes. She had added swimming to her workout regime, perfectly complementing her long, muscled frame. Between swimming and boxing, her shoulders broadened and her thighs pushed against her shorts, effectively making Jordan hotter than the summer sun.

Rebecca pictured those legs pressed against her and Jordan’s perfect mouth kissing her hard. Rebecca shivered, as her body remembered what Jordan had done to her only hours before. She closed her green eyes against the sun and moaned inaudibly.

Still gets to you, huh? Rick Jones watched his partner’s eyes with amusement. I know that look.

Rather than chastise him for being an ass, Rebecca just smiled. Yeah, she still does. It’s been like that from the beginning. She followed Rick’s gaze and chuckled softly. Guess you would know.

Rick studied his girlfriend for several seconds then his face broke into a smile. You know it, boss.

Rebecca growled. Damn, Jonesy, you’re lucky I’m in a good mood today.

You mean you’re lucky you got some this morning. Rick’s eyes found his girlfriend again. Ruth’s morning sickness is killing any chance of sex.

Yeah, but it’s worth it. Rebecca shook her head slightly. What were the odds of Rick having a baby with a person of interest from a former case? Ruth Dawson hadn’t been particularly striking while they were interviewing her and her husband in the Cradle Killer case and she certainly blended into the walls when they had talked to her at the sperm bank. Several weeks after the case, her husband had roughed her up pretty badly. She called Rick. Somewhere between filing a restraining order and her divorce, she and Rick started dating. Now they were two months pregnant, and Rebecca’s partner couldn’t have been happier. She’s glowing and my partner is going to be a daddy.

Rick bowed his head shyly, hiding the blush that crept over his face. Anyone looking at him could tell the man was head over heels in love and had softened around the edges. I’m gonna be a good dad, right, boss?

Sure, Jonesy. Rebecca saw her street tough partner turn into mush at the sight of a pink dress. They didn’t even know the sex of the baby, but Rick was already a doting father. Listen, every man worries that he is going to be a good father. It’s okay to be scared, you know?

Yeah, I guess. Rick shrugged. How do you think they are handling it?

Rebecca followed his gaze to Susan Mitchell, Jordan’s boss at the Chicago office of the FBI. She looked as over the moon as Rick did. Her wife Julie Keppler was pregnant again. They were here at their house throwing a baby shower for the soon to arrive Baby Mitchell-Keppler. The blue trim and large It’s A Boy sign fluttered in the gentle summer breeze. Julie seemed okay, though there was wariness to her demeanor that worried Rebecca. Rebecca hoped that flashbacks from her attack last year had subsided, and the nervousness could be attributed to being a new mother. I’d say she’s about as excited as you are.

What about you? Rick’s eyes twinkled mischievously. When are you gonna start popping out some kids?

Rebecca glared at Rick. You have lost your damn mind.

What? Rick raised his hands helplessly. You guys are good, right?

Yeah, Jonesy, we’re good. Rebecca’s face softened. Sensing Jordan’s gaze, she flicked her eyes to where she stood and met her eyes. A shiver ran through her body as Jordan’s blue eyes seared into her soul. Rebecca watched her intently, licking her lips without even realizing she had done so. Jordan could steal her breath away with one look and leave Rebecca’s body wanting more. Unable to focus, she shot Jordan a naughty smile and pulled her eyes away reluctantly. Better than good, actually. But there are no kids in our future, other than spoiling yours and Susan’s.

Rick chuckled heartily. Fair enough, boss. I gotcha. I felt the same way though, before Ruthie. Then everything changed.

It’s not for me, Jonesy. Rebecca replied acerbically. She immediately smiled an apology. She did want children, but the subject had been met with resistance from Jordan. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Jordan still smarted from her own childhood. Her father had abandoned her and her mother and the closest thing she had to a father had been Tony Wozniak, her friend and mentor. Plus, she was scared, really scared that she would fuck up a child’s life. Anytime Rebecca brought the subject up, Jordan would immediately close down. It was the only subject that caused any issues between them. Listen, I’m sorry, okay? Children aren’t in my future, and I’m coming to terms with that. I shouldn’t have jumped at you like that.

It’s good, boss. I kinda figured that was the score. He nodded toward Jordan knowingly. Working the Cradle Killer case and the subsequent months afterwards had given him ample time to get to know Jordan, at least the parts that she allowed people to see. You know if it’s meant to be, it will happen. Rick put his hands on the chair and pushed himself up with a loud groan. I’m not sure how I’m gonna keep up with a kid.

Rebecca smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. Same way you run down the bad guys. She watched him amble away. He slid his arm around Ruth protectively and kissed her cheek. Rebecca enjoyed the moment for him. She was happy for him, really happy. If anyone deserved it, Rick Jones was the guy. She admired Ruth for taking a rough around the edges, hardened cop and making him a family man. She also admired the change that Rick had inspired in her. When they first met Ruth, she was a dejected, lifeless woman who could barely look them in the eye. Today, she was a vibrant, happy woman with the love of a good man and a baby on the way.

Is this seat taken?

Rebecca looked up and met Julie’s eyes. It is now.

Julie smiled and put her hands on the chair, lowering her body into the chair with as much effort as Rick used getting out of the chair. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?

It is. Rebecca sensed that Julie was interested in talking about more than the weather. She watched her fidget uncomfortably with the hem of her shorts. Congratulations, by the way.

Oh, thank you. Julie watched her hands for several more seconds before she worked up the courage to face Rebecca. Julie still didn’t know Rebecca all that well, although she and Jordan had joined them for dinner regularly since they started dating. Umm, I wanted to thank you for everything. I never really had the chance to tell you before.

You’re welcome. Just doing my job. Rebecca wasn’t exactly comfortable with the thank you. As a detective, she was just doing her job. She didn’t generally attach emotions to her work, aside from anger at the injustice of it all. With Julie, it hit a little closer to home.

I know. Julie replied quietly. With no warning, she took Rebecca’s hand in hers and squeezed it softly. Whatever you call it; you saved my life, and I can’t adequately thank you.

Rebecca tensed uncomfortably. While she and Jordan touched all the time, she wasn’t used to other people’s touch. Her own family, while close, wasn’t the touchy feely type. She took a deep breath and forced her body to loosen up. You don’t have to thank me. It’s enough to see you alive and happy. Rebecca regarded Julie solemnly. Besides, you are Jordan’s friend, and I would do anything for her friends.

Yes, I am. Julie’s eyes found Jordan several paces away, and she got instantly quiet. Her mind flashed briefly to a time years before, and she felt a chill steal across her body.

Are you okay? Rebecca saw Julie shiver, and she started to worry. Is it the baby?

No, he’s fine. Julie rubbed her stomach absentmindedly. She pushed the images to the back of her mind and willed her heart to stop pounding. As if sensing Rebecca’s questioning eyes, Julie glanced sideways, trepidation making her body shake. Can I tell you something?

Rebecca’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Her sixth sense kicked in immediately, thrown off by Julie’s sudden need for a shared confidence. She brushed a lock of her red hair behind her ear and turned to face Julie. Her senses were alert. Julie licked her lips nervously, and her eyes darted to her lover, confirming that she was busy with Jordan. Rebecca watched her swallow several times and wring her hands together, working up the courage to speak.

Jordan has saved my life twice now. Julie paused, watching Rebecca’s face closely.

Rebecca cocked her head uncomfortably. Granted, she probably didn’t know all about Jordan yet, but this piece of information seemed important enough to share with her. She never told me that.

She wouldn’t. Julie shook her head. I made her promise not to. When Susan introduced her the first time, I realized I knew her. That’s a face I could never forget.

I don’t understand. Rebecca watched Julie closely, trying to form a theory about them. That’s what a good detective did automatically, and even off the job, Rebecca couldn’t turn that off.

Julie shifted in her seat nervously, trying to get her body comfortable. It was