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21 Weeks: Week 4
21 Weeks: Week 4
21 Weeks: Week 4
Ebook80 pages51 minutes

21 Weeks: Week 4

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When a young woman is strapped into the driver’s seat of her car and sent plummeting over a cliff in Red Rock Canyon, it’s up to Detective Beck Nash and her partner, Detective Kevin Williams, to prove, once and for all, their serial killer is practicing a new brand of torture.

21 Weeks is a fast-paced police procedural thriller series that ramps up in intensity with each victim that falls until its explosive final week.

Warning: This series is about a serial killer. There will be violence. There will be language. There will be other adult things. It is intended for a mature audience.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherRiley LaShea
Release dateAug 28, 2015
ISBN9781311917935
21 Weeks: Week 4
Author

R.A. LaShea

R.A. LaShea is a pen name of author Riley LaShea. Under this name, LaShea writes police procedural/thriller 21 Weeks.

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    Book preview

    21 Weeks - R.A. LaShea

    21 Weeks

    WEEK 4

    R.A. LaShea

    21 Weeks: Week 4

    Copyright 2015 R.A. LaShea

    Smashwords Edition

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, in any form, without written permission of the author. Thank you for supporting the author’s rights and buying an authorized edition of this e-book.

    Visit http://www.lasheathrillers.com/sign-up/ to sign up for the 21 Weeks mailing list, and receive updates on upcoming Beck Nash thrillers.

    CONTENTS

    1

    2

    3

    4

    5

    6

    7

    8

    9

    10

    11

    12

    13

    14

    15

    16

    Week 5 Teaser

    1 - Red Rock Canyon Valley - Tuesday, 8:30 a.m.

    Beck imagined the young woman was once pretty. She could never tell it, though, from the mess of contusions and blood that currently made up her face. Glasses broken - everything broken - their metal frame bent, boring into the skin at the woman’s temple, and leaving them dangling halfway off her face. Shards of the shattered lenses embedded in her cheeks and eyelids, they glittered against skin that had turned patchwork purple from the blood draining into her head as she hung from the seat of the overturned vehicle.

    From afar, it looked like an accident. Beck could see why the report was called into Traffic first. She didn’t have to ask, though, why Baxton had called for them. The signs of foul play went right across the victim’s chest. Arms crossed over her, leather straps cinched each of her wrists, pulling them taut to the point of pain around her, and were tied off behind the seat, like a makeshift straightjacket.

    Above Beck’s head, the victim’s legs were secured the same way. No shoes, her ankles and knees were bound in leather, strapped so tightly against the seat, she probably would have lost her lower legs from the lack of circulation if she had survived the fall.

    Pressing up from the plastic tarp beneath her knees, Beck’s boots sank in the mud around it as Williams risked his expensive suit to get down and have a look of his own.

    Who is she? Beck asked.

    Elena Petros. Twenty-three years old. She’s a nursing student at UNLV. The CSU tech handed Beck the bagged driver’s license and student ID. Short in the ID photo, as it was now, Elena’s hair was longer in the photo on the license. Beck was right. Pretty. Either way.

    When was she found?

    7:15 a.m. The man who found her hiked in as soon as the park opened.

    Thunder rumbling overhead, it reverberated off the surrounding rock, making it difficult to pinpoint its direction, and Beck glanced from under the edge of the tarp as another dark cloud closed in. It would almost make sense. Three hundred and thirty days of sunlight each year, the city’s natives weren’t exactly experts at driving in less than ideal conditions, especially on winding mountain roads. If it wasn’t for the way she was tied, whoever did this might have made it pass as an accident.

    Though, maybe that was never the intention.

    How long has she been here? Beck turned to Baxton.

    She’s been dead less than two hours.

    Did anyone else see anything?

    The CSU tech shook his head. Not as far as we know. Park closed around one p.m. yesterday due to the storms. Flash flooding. It didn’t reopen until six a.m.

    Did you find anything else? The question was for both of them.

    Not yet, Baxton said. We have a flat-bed on the way to take the whole car in, so we can get it out of the weather. It’s going to prolong the process, but will, hopefully, keep us from losing anything important.

    Hopefully. Beck nodded. Though, she suspected, after forty years of success at evading authorities, there would be little to find that the killer didn’t want found. Are you all right? She looked to Williams as he got to his feet.

    Yeah. Skin washed in a shade of gray usually reserved for Baxton alone at crime scenes like this, Williams’ jaw ticked. Where’d the car come down?

    Gesturing them to the tarp’s edge, Baxton pointed up the cliff face, and Beck peered with Williams toward the evidence numbers clinging to the

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