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    Pro Bono: The Devin James Series
    Pro Bono: The Devin James Series
    Pro Bono: The Devin James Series
    Ebook130 pages1 hour

    Pro Bono: The Devin James Series

    By Johnnie E. Sanders

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Pro Bono
    Brutal satanic murders are once again horrifying Atlanta -- nightmares, memories of the Wayne Williams Case attacking the present -- the devilment of the details of the new cases cry out for justice of the innocent, the children.
    An unknown but powerful hand assembles Devin James, Ellis Collins, Dr Annette Wright-Collins. Cynthia Cox and Coop to try to connect the dots.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBookBaby
    Release dateJan 14, 2014
    ISBN9781483517858
    Pro Bono: The Devin James Series

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      Book preview

      Pro Bono - Johnnie E. Sanders

      9781483517858

      CHAPTER 1

      The woods were thick, dark – deadly quiet. The site where the priest had chosen had an opening, a view of the moon and the stars that seemed to be shining directly on the ceremonial ritual he was performing over the naked body of a young female.

      The girl, the sacrificial lamb, wasn’t dead. She wanted to scream in pain, but the sound wouldn’t leave her throat. Her eyes darted around to the lit torches, the huge bloody stones, which seemed to be topped by globs of bloody masses of raw meat – human organs. She felt paralyzed. Nothing was holding her on the altar, but she couldn’t move a muscle except for her eyes. Things were blurred but she was aware. Her senses were highly alert, especially of the pain. She strained through the pain to see the priest – her fixed, unblinking gaze took in everything; his crimson robe, which was partially opened, revealing his arousal. His breathiness as he chanted over her.

      The young girl saw the priest cutting out her intestines – the pain, the severe pain and every detail happening around the young girl, made her know it wasn’t a nightmare, but her reality, what few seconds she had left, seeing her own heart being raised above her by the priest.

      CHAPTER 2

      Ellis Collins, my best friend, was in the Birmingham City morgue with a forensic team cutting open the stomach of a 13 foot alligator. He wasn’t a doctor. He was a detective, but looked more like a fashion model for Ebony Man – 6’3", dark and athletically built.

      The tip of Ellis Collins’ hand all the way to his elbow was in the alligator’s stomach, searching, feeling for anything, finding rings and watches, a partially dissolved arm, leg and Nike shoe.

      Damn!

      Ellis Collins stepped away, removing the protective gloves and gown with his body language showing his anguish and remorse.

      We’ve got them.

      I was hoping they were still alive. … Run the DNA and freeze them as evidence.

      Ellis Collins had set a standard for himself and made a conscious decision to live up to it – subconsciously he held everyone else to it also.

      ……

      The District Attorney was at Ellis Collins’ cubical silently awaiting an answer when the detective arrived. The look in Ellis Collins’ eyes told the DA what he wanted to know.

      Well at least we got the bastards off the streets. He knew it wasn’t a consolation to the deceased victims. Good job.

      Ellis Collins watched him leave, then sat and lowered his head, staring at the pictures of the missing elderly people from the aftercare center – they had no one. The couple that ran the home knew no one would check on the missing elderly people, and they could continue to receive the grants and the social security checks of the victims.

      Ellis Collins didn’t know if the owners of the aftercare had fed the old people to the alligator alive or after they had died, but if it wouldn’t have been for the missing pets and ducks, Ellis Collins would’ve never thought to check the stool found around East Lake park, and stumbled on what he thought at first were mundane objects until he realized one was a diabetic bracelet—which led him to inquire about the owner that was supposedly a resident of the aftercare center.

      When Ellis Collins looked up, the captain stood in his cubical staring at him. She saw his tired demeanor before his expression returned to his normal energetic self.

      What’s next?

      His captain had given him the missing pet cases as a way to allow him to relax. She’d been concerned that he was over stressing. She knew some people met whatever challenges thrown their way with enthusiasm, resolve and good nature – while others retreated, and became bitter. Ellis Collins hadn’t back down but his captain; she could see the bitterness creeping in every so often. She didn’t want him to become cold, unemotional and uncaring. She knew it was his warm and compassionate soul that made him such a great detective.

      A paid leave of absence. A reward for your fine service. You and Annette go enjoy a real honeymoon …This isn’t debatable. You’ve got that look. I don’t want you to burn out. This city needs you. So take this break. Go do whatever you need to rejuvenate yourself. I’ll call you when I need you back.

      CHAPTER 3

      Dr. Annette Wright-Collins was considered the leading criminologist in the field, and the wife of detective Ellis Collins. She was at home, in her study, on her laptop communicating by Skype with a FBI agent Geneva Smith in DC, trying to assist in the capture of the riddle killer.

      Annette was naturally even tempered, with a calm vocal delivery. Nonsense. Why didn’t you contact me sooner?

      For some reason, they went with someone else until now.

      What do you have?

      This was left in the room. The agent zoomed in her camera on the sheet of paper. A five letter word that precedes the creation of all.

      Annette’s grandmother, Dr. Wright, was on the other side of the room doing her own research, but answered the question. Labor.

      Annette’s grandmother was a woman who choose to let her hair go gray – truly a strong statement she was comfortable with herself and her age.

      Annette wasn’t surprised that her grandmother knew the answer, but was shocked by grandmother being in the study without her knowing.

      Thanks. Annette then cut her conversation short. Email the information to me now. Bye.

      Annette and her grandmother, both beautiful and highly intelligent women, had stern expressions, glaring intently, as if trying to stare the other down. But her grandmother’s was of concern, not uninviting or even threatening like Annette’s.

      What was that about?

      I can’t say.

      It sounds like something we’ve dealt with before.

      It can’t be. It’s not. It’s different.

      The idea itself had Annette off balance, but she kept her composure by politely gathering her belongings, signaling the discussion was over – or that she was done with it. But they both knew what people don’t want to discuss can be extremely revealing.

      Before Annette’s grandmother could pry farther, Ellis’ mother-n-law from his first marriage, who also lived with them, entered the study with a thin package from UPS.

      This arrived for you.

      CHAPTER 4

      Connie Cox, a freelance investigative journalist, was in Atlanta. The national attention she’d received from the Horric case articles had made her name nationally recognizable. But the aftermath from the case, which hadn’t received national attention had left an unpleasant taste in the views of her by many of the people of Birmingham. Connie Cox had endured the scrutinizing and harsh criticism of her investigative reporting tactics, but in the end she had decided life in a larger city would be more convenient.

      Outside, across the street from Justine’s Restaurant in Atlanta, two agents were parked taking pictures of Connie Cox who was inside the restaurant meeting with a nervous looking guy.

      Unknown to the agents, Coop was only parked four cars away, keeping an eye on them while also observing Connie Cox. Coop was another Birmingham native. Surveillance and protection was the perfect line of work for him.

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