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Safe House Murders
Safe House Murders
Safe House Murders
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Safe House Murders

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Just when the women in the Safe House feel safe, a killer is out to make them the ultimate victims. Fear reigns with a vengeance as a madman stalks the women. The victim’s spouses or ex’s are the first suspects, but as more women are killed the search widens.
Roman Ragazzi, criminologist turned bestselling author works as a special investigator for the prosecutor’s office, and he isn’t liking that he’s been assigned the case. Or least he isn’t now that Bethany Towers is back in town as the new prosecutor.

As the case unfolds Roman realizes that he has a problem with working so close with Bethany. He thought he had gotten over his love for her, but finds out that a love like theirs isn’t all that easy to walk away from.

Bethany knows she’ll be working close with Roman, and she’s not sure she can keep her professional and personal feelings separate. She’s loved him for what seems like forever and knows she always will. Once he felt the same way, but she made a decision that changed their lives. Will telling him the whole story restore his love, and what about his trust? She wants it all.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherLavada Dee
Release dateMay 5, 2018
ISBN9780463270691
Safe House Murders
Author

Lavada Dee

Lavada Dee writes Contemporary and Romantic Suspense. She loves to read and gained a love of the romance genre from sneaking her Mother’s True Confessions from under the bed. That was many many many years ago and she has since advanced into reading just about every genre out there. From a love of reading she naturally evolved into writing.She lives in the Pacific Northwest where they encourage friends to drop in. While's it's impossible for all of us to physically drop in to chat we can do it via cyburspace. She loves to get better acquainted with you and invites you to subsribe to her Blog/News on her website.

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    Safe House Murders - Lavada Dee

    Safe House Murders

    Lavada Dee

    This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is entirely coincidental.

    All rights reserved. No part of this text may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author. Thank you for respecting and not encouraging piracy. To obtain permission to use portions of this text, other than for review purposes, please contact Lavadadee@gmail.com

    Lavadadee.com

    SAFE HOUSE MURDERS

    LAVADA DEE

    Chapter 1

    Roman stepped into the foyer of his spacious ranch-house. Shrugging out of his coat, he gave a sigh of relief to be out of the weather. Already, there were power outages from the ice storm moving over the area. He felt sorry for the poor bastards who would have to be out all night trying to restore electricity.

    As he opened the closet door, his cell phone rang. Uttering a curse, he flipped it open. Ragazzi.

    A few minutes later, Roman backed his still warm car out of the drive. He’d taken time to pull out a heavy parka from the closet, but he still had his formal wear on. Oh well, at least the murder scene he rushed to was in a mall parking lot, not down a ravine or out in the woods like a lot of them.

    Detective McKinsey Powers hadn’t given him much to go on when he’d phoned. With no information on the murder to occupy his thoughts, Roman found his mind wandering back through the night. He’d taken Lori to the benefit dinner and fashion show. As evenings went, it was okay. Just okay, until Bethany and Judge Towers took their seats across the table from them. Roman bit back a curse as his body remembered what his brain didn’t want to. He’d loved Bethany Towers since the sixth grade and hated her for the last five years.

    Coming up to the mall entrance, Roman’s attention focused on the flashing lights at the far end of the parking lot. Other than the police cars, the parking lot looked deserted. With an experienced eye, Roman scanned the lot. There was an older Ford parked about fifty feet to the left of the scene and an SUV a little closer to the buildings.

    As soon as he drove up McKinsey stepped away from the group. Meeting Roman half way he pulled his parka’s collar up. Cripes, it’s cold out here. Makes you wonder why two women parked this far out in the lot. For sure, they wouldn’t have been shopping. No woman parks this far away from a mall entrance unless she has to. With the holidays behind us and this weather, I’d guess the mall wasn’t seeing much traffic today.

    Roman glanced toward the scene where he could see two bodies laying on the cold pavement. No shopping bags, I take it?

    No, of course it could have been a robbery gone bad, but like I said, this doesn’t look like a shopping trip.

    Roman walked around the bodies, careful to not disturb anything. From the angle, the shot came from a vehicle. It looks like the first woman...

    McKinsey interrupted him. Pamela Daws. She volunteers at the women’s shelter.

    Safe Choice?

    Yeah, that’s the one. We’ve long suspected there’s another organization working through the women’s shelter, and it looks like these women might have been involved.

    Roman nodded. He knew about the Underground Railroad type operation that moved women at risk out of the area and set them up with new lives. If the woman didn’t have complete custody of the children or, in some cases, had to have forged documents, it could be a legal grey area at best. So it wasn’t discussed. Sort of a don’t see, don’t know among law enforcement in New Market.

    Roman reached in his pocket for his notebook and then thought better of it. It had long been his practice to write notes as he took in first impressions, but the icy rain beating down would make writing legibly impossible. He stuck his hands in his coat pocket to keep them from reaching again for the notebook and instead talked out his observations to McKinsey as he walked around the scene.

    Leaning down to Pamela Daws, Roman observed the entrance and angle of the wound. Get CSI to record the exact angle. We may be able to get a possible make or makes of cars that the shooter was using. At least narrow it down from a truck, sedan, or sports car.

    McKinsey took a PDA out of his pocket and made note of what Roman had said.

    What have you got there?

    McKinsey handed the device over to him. Mom and Dad got it for me for Christmas. At first, I thought it was a foolish little piece of fluff, but after using it, I’m revising my initial thoughts on the thing. It’s great for taking notes and keeping a calendar. I plug it in the computer, and download the information. Sure beats typing everything for the never ending reports. And with weather like this I don’t have to worry about if the information is legible.

    He pushed it into Roman's hand. Here, try it. Trust me, you’ll like it. Chuckling, he walked off to consult with the CSI people.

    Roman’s feet felt like frozen blocks of ice by the time he finished with the crime scene. His leather soled dress shoes didn’t go unnoticed by McKinsey. So, why don’t I follow you over to your place? You can change before we notify the husbands. He gestured to the other body. In Ericka Booth's case, maybe bring Mr. Booth in for questioning. Someone beat the crap out of her, and it looks like some of it is real recent.

    Roman nodded agreement. I’d just stepped in the door when you called. While a tux might be a necessity for the fund raiser, it’s hardly adequate for this weather.

    What fund raiser?

    Ironically, it was for the women’s shelter, Safe Choice. They had a dinner and fashion show.

    McKinsey raised his eyebrows.

    Okay, so it isn’t something I’m overly thrilled to attend, but I promised Lori I’d escort her.

    McKinsey knew all about his on again off again relationship with ex-model Lori Page. He knew his friend had never really warmed up to her, and for sure didn’t get his attraction to her. McKinsey had told him one time that he thought they were about as different as coffee and tea. One dark, strong with a bite to it. The other... well the other was tea.

    * * * *

    With a change a clothes, Roman felt ready to get back at it. By the time they pulled into the Daws’ drive it was almost one o’clock in the morning. The house lights were on and within seconds of knocking, Don Daws answered the door. Not saying a word, he opened the door wider and motioned Roman and McKinsey in.

    Roman didn’t prolong the inevitable. I’m sorry to have to tell you. Pamela is dead. The words sounded cold to his ears. Bringing news like this was something he knew he’d never get used to and could never be good at. She and the lady that was with her were shot earlier this evening.

    Don Daws wiped a hand down his face as he sank into a chair.

    McKinsey focused his gaze on the wall behind the chair. Can I get you some water?

    Roman and McKinsey watched as Don visibly collected himself. I just made a fresh pot of coffee. I thought Pam would like a cup when she got home. As an afterthought, he added, its decaf.

    McKinsey quickly assured him decaf was good, adding he would get it.

    Roman sat down across from Don, bending forward to rest his forearms on his legs. When you can, tell me about tonight, Don. Like where Pamela planned to go?

    When McKinsey came back with the coffee, Don took a cup and held it like he was trying to get warm. We didn’t talk about what Pamela did on nights like tonight. I’m an attorney, and it is at best a gray area where the law is concerned.

    But you knew, didn’t you? Roman pursued.

    Yeah. We sort of talked in code. I always knew at least the vicinity of where she went and about when she’d be home.

    Roman’s voice sounded low in the quiet room. And tonight? he prompted.

    Pam intended to pick up someone at the mall and take her down to Portland. I expected it to be about a four hour trip.

    So, if you expected her when we got here, she must have been meeting this woman about ten o’clock.

    Don nodded. When he started speaking, it sounded more like he spoke to himself. All but ignoring Roman and McKinsey, he continued, I didn’t want her to go tonight. The weather is bad here and reportedly worse farther south. When she insisted on going, I begged her to let me drive them, but she’s always sensitive to my position and wouldn’t listen to reason.

    Rubbing his hand across his mouth, Don sat in silence for a few seconds. Fighting tears he said, I wish I could turn back time. I’d turn them in before I’d let her go without me.

    Roman gripped his coffee cup tighter. He hated this part of his job. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was just past one thirty. Only a half an hour and it seemed more like hours. Did you know Ericka Booth, the woman your wife was helping?

    No, I never knew any of the women Pam aided. Like I said...

    Roman moved back, giving Don some space. Did you know Ericka in any other way? Say, like she stopped over to maybe drop something off?

    Don shook his head no.

    When they’d stopped by for Roman to change clothes he’d made a copy of a picture of Ericka and presumably her husband that had been in her wallet. He handed it over to Don. Do you recognize either of these people?

    Don sat up and pulled the picture closer to his face. Reaching into his shirt pocket, he pulled out a pair glasses. I only need these for reading and close work. Sometimes I forget I have them until I want to see something clearly. Frowning, he studied the picture. I haven’t seen the woman, but I think this is the man that stopped here the other day.

    Roman didn’t expect this response. Here? At the house?

    Well, out on the drive. He stood by an old pickup just staring at the house when I drove up. I parked the car and intended to talk to him, but before I could reach him he got in the pickup and drove off.

    Didn’t you think it strange?

    Well at first, but when he kicked the tire on his pickup I figured he thought he’d had a flat.

    Roman ran his hand down his face. Maybe being tired, he completely missed the logic of what Don Daws said. Say what? I’m not following you here.

    Don nodded. Sorry, just up the road they’re testing the asphalt. About a month ago, they cut ridges in it, and it gives you a feel of maybe a low tire. I’ve gotten use to it and don’t pay it much attention.

    Seems Mr. Booth isn’t from around here, then. Roman wasn’t surprised. From Mrs. Booth’s clothes and worn shoes, she didn’t look like she would live in an affluent community like this one.

    Standing, Roman watched as Don Daws rose from his chair. The man had visibly aged since he’d answered the door to their knock.

    Is there anyone you can call? Don hesitated trying to get his bearings. I should call Pam’s parents. Do you think I should call this late or wait a few hours?

    McKinsey looked at Roman for an answer. Roman held his hands palms up. What did a guy advise to a question like this? McKinsey had been silent, letting Roman do the talking. Now his voice softened in the quiet room. I’m not sure what I’d do, but I think being a parent, I’d want to know right away. It might give them a purpose to be able to comfort you.

    Don gave a sigh of visible relief to have a direction. Okay, thanks. I’ll go ahead and phone them.

    How far away do they live?

    Just across town.

    Would you like us to wait with you until they can get here?

    No, with this weather I’d rather have them wait until morning to come over. I really appreciate your offer, though.

    Handing over his business card, Roman asked Don to call him if he thought of anything. McKinsey watched as almost as an afterthought Roman turned back to Don. Oh, could we go out through the garage.

    Uh, sure. Don didn’t hesitate or question Roman's request as he led them through the kitchen to the garage. Have you had your car out tonight?

    Don sounded almost trance like in his answer. Earlier, Pamela and I took my car into the shop. It’s Friday and they work on it on Saturday for me. Tears gathered in his eyes. Pamela won’t be here to take me back for my car. She won’t be here for stopping for dinner on the way back. She won’t be here... Don grabbed the door jamb as all three men looked into the empty garage.

    Don’s voice came out as a whisper. It looks so empty.

    Roman thought he certainly had that right. Not a thing was out of place. The tools hung over a workbench, bare of clutter. Even the floor had been swept clean.

    Pam hated messiness. We were like the odd couple. I never remember to pick up a wet towel or throw my dirty socks in the laundry. ‘Bout drove her nuts. His speech came out fast and choppy. Slowing down, he took a swallow. It again sounded like he was talking to himself when he continued. I wanted to surprise her. I started cleaning the garage right after she left. Thought it would be a good time with both cars being gone.

    McKinsey held out a business card to Don. Here take one of mine, too. Like Roman said, if you think of anything give us a call right away.

    Thanks I will. And, thanks for... well for being here tonight.

    Try and get some rest. Sleep might seem impossible, but even if you manage to doze on the couch it’ll help. The next few days are going to be pretty crazy. We’ll get back with you later.

    As Roman and McKinsey walked back to their car the garage slowly closed. McKinsey pulled out his keys. Poor guy.

    Roman climbed in the passenger seat and snapped the seat belt in place. Did you see his face? He isn’t the shooter.

    I agree with you on that one.

    The car had cooled off while they were in the Daws’ house and McKinsey reached over and turned the heater to hot and the fan on high. Roman groaned as a blast of cool air hit him in the face.

    They rode in silence. Both men knew that at the very least, the families had to be notified, but in Booth’s case they no doubt would arrest him for assault. With a sigh, Roman glanced at his watch. Almost two o’clock. Let’s give Bully Boy a visit. With any luck he’ll be asleep and we can have the pleasure of rousting him out a nice, warm bed.

    McKinsey nodded agreement and pulled onto the highway. Roman’s headache pounded against his temple. When McKinsey started talking, it was the last topic he wanted to hear. I heard through the grapevine that Bethany Towers is going to take the Deputy District Attorney’s position. When Roman didn’t comment, he continued, Do you think she’ll be assigned this case?

    Roman didn’t even

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