Her Deadly End - A Murder Mystery- The Boy’s Dead
A West Coast FBI K9 murder mystery thriller
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What you will get:
One chapter of this story dropped every Tuesday morning at 5AM PST
Short chapters you can binge on a coffee break
42 chapters in 42 weeks
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HER DEADLY END: A Crime Thriller with a Twist
A brutal murder shatters the peace of Paradise Cove. As the body count rises, FBI Agent Tanya Stone and her K9 dog, Max, hunt for the twisted secret that lies buried beneath this small town. But the serial killer is lurking in plain sight, ready to strike again.
A deadly game of survival has just begun and FBI Agent Tanya Stone’s next decision could cost her life....
What you’ll find in this serialized story on Substack:
A strong-minded detective & her faithful German Shepherd K9
A cold-blooded serial killer with a haunted past
An affluent neighbourhood in a small seaside town
A closed circle of suspects. The killer could be anyone
Dysfunctional & toxic family dynamics
Betrayals, deceit, & psychological suspense
Unexpected plot twists & an explosive ending
All Rights Reserved. Copyright ©Tikiri Herath
*There is no graphic violence, heavy cursing, or explicit sex in my stories. No dog is ever harmed, but the villains always are…
Previous Chapter Recapped:
Following the deadly incidents at the cafe, Tanya urges Katy and Asha to leave Paradise Cove immediately. They refuse, determined to stay and investigate. Pat, a neighbour sees them chatting on the driveway of their holiday home and yells at them to leave town. The detectives don’t respond, but they can’t help but wonder about the strange denizens of this town. Especially after they learn of Hudson Wyatt and his wealthy family's recent troubles….
Her Deadly End - Chapter Ten
AGENT TANYA STONE
The Boy’s Dead
“Hello ladies. We meet again.”
Tanya, Asha, and Katy turned around, innocent expressions on their faces. Wyatt strolled up to them, a bright smile on his face and his dog in tow.
His eyes flitted toward Asha, and drifted from her face, to her chest, to her thighs. Tanya could see her discomfort and shook her head.
Why do some men do this? Don’t they realize it makes our skin crawl?
Katy gave him a friendly wave. “Hi again. I guess we’ll be neighbors.”
“Are you ladies visiting?”
“A short vacation.”
He offered his hand to Katy.
“I couldn’t ask for better neighbors than three pretty young ladies like you.”
Instead of shaking Katy’s hand, Wyatt bowed over it and kissed it.
He even acts like an old-fashioned dude from the seventeenth century.
Asha bent to pet the dog, more to fend off a smarmy kiss from the man than anything else. “What a gorgeous pup.”
Wyatt looked down at his dog, and his face softened.
“Isn’t he?” He gave an embarrassed chuckle. “You must think I’m a bit off driving around town with a Great Dane in my open car.”
Yes, I do.
“We love pups,” said Katy. “Our dog’s at the vet, but he’ll be coming home soon. He really belongs to Tanya, but we have all claimed him as family.”
Wyatt turned to Tanya, curiosity in his eyes. “What’s his breed?”
Tanya couldn’t get away from this man fast enough, but he was waiting for an answer.
“German Shepherd.”
“Mixed with a bit of husky,” said Asha.
Wyatt leaned toward them, his face turning serious, like he was about to divulge a secret.
“I saw Pat shut the door on your face. Don’t take it to heart. She’s not been feeling well lately.”
“What’s wrong with her?” said Katy.
“She’s had more than her fair share of bad luck.”
“Does she live alone?” said Tanya.
Wyatt nodded. “Ever since her daughter ran away and her husband passed about three years ago.”
He looked away as if he was embarrassed to be sharing this information, but Tanya could see he was dying to talk.
Contrary to popular belief, she knew men enjoyed gossiping just as much as women did. Maybe even more. Wyatt didn’t disappoint. He leaned in again and lowered his voice.
“Her husband was a nuclear physicist. Worked for a large science corporation and wrote a bestseller on the Manhattan Project. It was quite a shock to the scientific community when he died. He had a severe heart attack before he even hit forty.”
“How sad,” said Katy.
“It’s why I live a stress-free life.” Wyatt bent down to stroke his dog’s head. “I don’t plan to drop dead like these overworked corporate execs.”
“What does Pat do?” said Tanya.
“She was an English professor at the South Seattle University. Published several books herself. I believe she went on an extended sabbatical after her husband died, then took early retirement. She took it hard.”
Katy put her hands on her hips.
“That’s decided then. I’m going to visit her with muffins tomorrow morning. Maybe that will soften her up.”
A strange smile cut across Wyatt’s face.
“You do that. She’ll appreciate the gesture.” He paused. “If you ladies need anything, just knock on my door. I’m at your service. Enjoy your stay in Paradise Cove.”
With a small bow, he turned around and strolled back to his house.
They watched him walk away, his long-legged canine companion padding behind him.
“Something’s odd about him,” whispered Asha. “Quirky.”
“Slimy,” said Tanya. “Slimy is the word you’re looking for.”
“Stop staring, you two,” said Katy, nudging them. “He’s just being neighborly. Let’s go inside and open a bottle of wine. Heaven knows I need one.”
Without waiting for her friends, Katy rolled her suitcase up the driveway, toward the front door of her foster mother’s house.
Asha pulled the handle from her suitcase and followed her. Tanya clicked her key fob to lock the Jeep and joined Asha. They were halfway up the driveway when a chilling scream came from Pat’s house.
They dropped their bags and were about to run over when a frightened shout came from inside their own home.
“Help! Someone help!”
“Katy!” cried Asha, whirling around.
Tanya burst through the front door first.
“What happened? You all right?”
Katy was standing in the kitchen, staring out the back window, a hand over her mouth.
Tanya stepped up to her. “What is it?”
“Oh, my gosh,” said Asha as she dashed over. “It’s Jodie, the kid.”
The homeless boy they had met at the café was lying prone in Pat’s backyard, clutching the sugar buns to his chest. He was still, but even from where they were, they could see the foam frothing from his bluish mouth.
Tanya spun on her heels and ran out the back door, shouting.
“Call nine-one-one!”
She jumped the fence to Pat’s backyard, barely registering the woman’s pale face staring from the porch.
Ask for forgiveness rather than permission.
She raced over to the boy.
“Hey, Jodie!” she called out as she reached for his shoulder. “Jodie, are you okay?”
She touched his wrists, then his neck, but felt no pulse. His skin was cold and clammy. Tanya stared at the body, certain the boy had taken his last breath before Katy had even spotted him.
Asha and Katy came over.
“Ambulance is on its way,” said Asha.
Tanya turned to her companions with a grim look. “It’s too late.”
They stood around the boy in silent vigil, sorrow overtaking them, even though they had barely known the kid.
“Where’s his hoodie?” said Asha, glancing around.
Tanya shrugged. “Could have lost it.”
“What’s that in his hand?”
Katy was pointing at the kid’s hand with the scar. Tanya bent down and gently pried his fingers open. Held inside was a yellow plastic vial.
“Pills?” said Katy, bending over to look. “He didn’t have it on him at the café.”
“Could have been in his pocket,” said Asha.
Tanya scrutinized the small white tablets in the container, making sure to not touch it. “I would bet my entire salary this is Fentanyl. Two milligrams of this and it’s lethal.”
“Someone could have given it to him after he left the café,” said Asha.
“What I want to know is what was he doing in Pat’s backyard,” said Tanya.
“What happened?”
They whirled around to see Pat standing a few feet from them, swaying on her feet, her cane forgotten.
“What’s going on?” she croaked. “What happened to him?”
Asha turned toward her. “The boy’s dead.”
Pat clutched her chest.
Tanya leaped toward her, but was too late. Pat crashed to the ground with a hard thud.
To be continued next week….
Thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.
Question for you: What do you think Jodie was doing in Pat’s back yard? Did Pat play a role in his death?
*Chapters drop on Substack weekly. If the next chapter isn’t up yet, hang on. It’s coming in a few days!
NOTE: Canadian / British spelling is used here as the author is Canadian. The final completed book in bookstores will have American spelling.
Click here to read more stories from the award-winning Canadian mystery thriller author, Tikiri Herath.