Deadly Potential Read online

  Table of Contents

  DEADLY POTENTIAL

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Epilogue

  THREE MONTHS LATER

  DEADLY POTENTIAL

  A Special Investigations Case File

  JENNIFER CAROLE LEWIS

  SOUL MATE PUBLISHING

  New York

  DEADLY POTENTIAL

  Copyright©2019

  JENNIFER CAROLE LEWIS

  Cover Design by Taria Reed

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

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published in the United States of America by

  Soul Mate Publishing

  P.O. Box 24

  Macedon, New York, 14502

  ISBN: 978-1-68291-949-1

  www.SoulMatePublishing.com

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  To Chris, Sarah, and Erin.

  The first ones to believe in my stories

  and convince me to take them out of my head

  and onto the page.

  Acknowledgments

  There are so many people who have supported me on the journey to create this story. A big thank you to the ladies of ORWA, particularly Lucy for never letting me give up on my dream of being published; and Eve, whose wise advice and encouragement carried me through the times when I doubted myself. And another big thank you to the ladies of the Authors’ Lounge who listened to me brainstorm, practice my pitch, and worry about titles.

  More thanks to my RWA critique partner, Emma Rayke, whose suggestions helped to shape the final version of this story. Your “Hah!” and “I love this” comments kept me going when I was discouraged.

  Thank you to my lifelong friends, Chris, Sarah and Erin, to whom this book is dedicated. These wonderful women have seen me through the best of times and the worst of times. After so many years, we’re more than friends, we’ve become one another’s family and that means everything to me.

  Not to leave out my biological family! More thank yous to my kids who had to listen to their mom talk to herself as she sorted out dialogue and plot and told their friends: don’t worry, she’s a writer. Especially thank you to my youngest, who tells everyone that his mom writes amazing books that he’s not allowed to read until he’s older. And thank you to my parents, who encouraged me to use my imagination by writing it down instead of telling myself endless stories. And a shout out to my extended family, who have been some of my first and loudest fans.

  Thank you to Soul Mate Publishing for taking a chance on an unknown author during a three minute pitch window. Thank you to my editor, Cheryl, for making my story better and stronger. Thank you to Debby for answering my many, many, many questions with patience and grace and walking me through the paperwork and process. And thank you to Char for welcoming me into the Soul Mate online family.

  And the last thank you is the most important. Thank you to the person reading these words because you are the one who makes the difference between my writing dreams staying as dreams and having them become reality. A story is only in the author’s head until it finds a home in the imagination of a reader. I hope this story finds a home with you.

  Miss Katie Ballard,

  There is no need to be afraid of me. I only want to help you. There is so much more to you than writing songs and assisting your stepsister. You are the one who deserves to be a star. I’m the only one who sees your true talent.

  I understand if you feel a sense of obligation to your stepsister. After all, you are the driving force behind her career. You are kind to her, but kindness can only hold you back. It is time to claim the stage as your own rather than sleeping in the ashes from her flames.

  I’ve taken the liberty of providing a small gift. A beautiful woman like you should be adorned properly. This is only the beginning of what I can do to help you. I look forward to seeing you wear it.

  Your faithful admirer and servant, Walter.

  Chapter 1

  “What was the ‘small gift’?” Investigator Ben Morgan asked his boss as he and his partner read through the case file. He sometimes missed the simplicity of his life before joining Special Investigations. Back then, he could assume anyone who talked to voices in their head needed a psych eval. Once the world found out superpowers were real, it changed everything in law enforcement. If an individual could transform into an animal or bend metal with their bare hands, then anything could be possible.

  “A blue silk evening dress, hand-sewn and fitted to the target.” Director Henry Delacroix closed the door. As he returned to his desk, he rolled up the sleeves of white dress shirt to reveal forearms covered in wiry black hair. “The unsub left it backstage in Miss Ballard’s dressing room at their concert in Tucson, along with the handwritten note.”

  “How very brash.” Investigator Ray Corwin shook his head in mock dismay. “He’s in complete violation of stalker etiquette. A gift like that should be saved for after the second restraining order.”

  Ben hid a smile, keeping his gaze focused on the old-fashioned rows of file cabinets lining the walls of Delacroix’s office. His partner might be new to Special Investigations, but he did not lack confidence to share his opinions. There were lots of rumors about the man ruffling high-ranking feathers back in the FBI. Something we have in common. He had learn
ed to respect Ray’s keen insight.

  Delacroix’s mouth twitched, the tiny smile appearing and disappearing almost too quickly to register.

  Ben checked the file again, reading the first two letters. Both were short, only a few sentences. They seemed like ordinary fan mail. “How were these two sent?”

  “Social media accounts. Each set up right before the messages were sent and shut down immediately after the reply. No way to trace them.” Delacroix tapped the folder resting on his battered metal desk. “The FBI thinks it might be the Director.”

  Shit. He remembered the serial killer’s name from his own days at the Bureau. Eight women stalked and killed in the last ten years. Ben hated using lurid names, preferring the generic term unsub, an abbreviation for unknown subject. This unsub sent his target letters and gifts before kidnapping and killing them. He then posed their bodies in elaborate settings and costumes. Even Ray stilled at the dropped name. The Director held the honor of being one of the most terrifying serial killers currently operating in the United States.

  “There’s a concern the unsub may be an occulata hominum.” Delacroix rattled off the Latin term smoothly. He came down hard on any Investigator who used the slang insult loocy to describe those with supernatural powers. “We’ve been asked to consult and determine how the unsub has been able to evade capture despite some very slick operations. This is our chance to show why Special Investigations should be allowed to continue our work.”

  At its creation three years ago, the Bureau of Special Investigations had attracted a large number of bigots and bullies. They used the badge to boost their own egos and stoke their own hatred. The agency was still trying to purge the bad apples from their ranks while also struggling to cope with every hint of paranormal activity and every weirdo with delusions of comic-book grandeur.

  Ben had joined Special Investigations immediately after the Jackson Square incident, determined to make certain these newly revealed powers didn’t allow their users to escape the law. He’d heard rumors that Delacroix had been one of the FBI’s Little Green Men and Tinfoil Hat file chasers. People dismissed Delacroix as a conspiracy nut, but they were absolutely wrong. His boss treated every investigation with meticulous care and an unwavering focus on the evidence. Ben followed the same track. “What about the target?”

  Delacroix handed them a glossy magazine to add to the file. “Katherine Ballard.”

  A pretty, scantily-clad blonde stared regally from the cover. Ben didn’t recognize her, despite the name AGGI helpfully spelled out in big letters along with a promise to share her trade secrets for staying fit and keeping grounded.

  If this is the same unsub, a one name pop star isn’t his typical target. A picture inside the magazine caught his attention. The same blond woman from the cover, laughing with her arms around a young woman with dark red hair caught up in a practical ponytail that did nothing to hide her heart-shaped face or big eyes. She caught Ben’s eye more than the practiced glamor of the blonde. The redhead wasn’t looking at the camera, but her brilliant smile shone through the lens. Ben frowned. “The caption says they’re sisters.”

  “Technically, they’re stepsisters,” Ray said. “Aggi’s mother married Katie’s father when they were both young. They call each other sisters. Referring to them as stepsisters really pisses them off.”

  Delacroix and Ben both stared at him in surprise.

  Ray clucked his tongue to express disbelief. “Aggi has been the hottest musical act in town for the last five years. How have the two of you missed her?”

  “Katherine is Aggi’s manager and business partner,” Delacroix explained.

  “And she writes songs for a lot of top-forty artists, including Aggi.” Ray turned his focus back to the magazine photo. “It’s hard not to sympathize with the Director. Aggi is wearing her own brand of workout gear, while Katie chooses an oversized T-shirt and leggings? The girl practically cries out for a proper stylist.”

  His partner’s comment hit Ben like a spark hitting an unexpected pocket of gasoline fumes, threatening an unprofessional eruption. Luckily his boss wasn’t about to let the commentary stand.

  Delacroix glared at his latest recruit. “Keep your opinions on her personal choices to yourself.”

  Ben sucked in a deep breath. It wasn’t like him to be so unsettled this early in a case. He’d been up late finishing a report for Denver PD about an arsonist with suspected paranormal abilities. Maybe I need more sleep.

  “The FBI suspects the unsub could be an occulata,” Delacroix continued. “He’s not a criminal mastermind. He leaves trace evidence and DNA. But no one has been able to get close to him.”

  “Any clues on what powers this guy might have?” Ben realized he was running a fascinated finger along the edge of the next picture featuring the unsub’s target. Even in a simple T-shirt and leggings, she carried herself with an air of competence and confidence. A woman who probably bulldozed through most obstacles. She’d ignored the first two messages, but alerted the authorities immediately when the sender crossed a boundary. She wasn’t easily frightened or intimidated. Making her even more vulnerable to someone like this unsub. The realization hit him like a stab to the gut. They had less than a week to find and stop the unsub before the body count went up another notch.

  “No idea on powers. Which is why I’m putting the two of you on the case.” Delacroix’s dark eyes fixed on him. “Ben, you know the most about the different types of powers. Ray, you have a talent for getting information no one else can. Together, two of you are the best I have at getting to the right conclusions on the slimmest data, aside from Investigator Adler.”

  “And she won’t leave with a class in progress,” Ben finished.

  “Her loss is our celebrity gain. When do we leave?” Ray asked brightly.

  “Your plane leaves in two hours. Good luck, gentlemen.”

  Ben stood up at Delcroix’s dismissal. The familiar surge of anticipation loosened his muscles and sharpened his mind. This assignment held more of a challenge than going around to local precincts to deliver be-tolerant-but-careful lectures about what could be lurking on their streets. The prospect of a real hunt against an adversary who’d already made a fool of top-level law enforcement promised a satisfying challenge.

  They left Delacroix’s office and jogged down two flights of stairs. Ray hesitated at the bottom landing. “I suppose there’s hardly time to stop at home and pick up my albums for Aggi to sign.”

  “Just tell me your go-bag is ready this time.” Ben walked rapidly through the utilitarian lobby and shoved open the glass doors, eager to begin the case. They’d need at least an hour to reach the airport, and while federal officers might get to speed through security, no one would be holding the plane for them.

  “One trip being forced to wear off-the-rack was deterrent enough.” Ray gave an elaborate shudder as they crossed the parking lot. “My luggage is waiting in the car.”

  Ben couldn’t decide if his partner actually had money, or only liked to pretend he did. Distinguishing between the high-end designers and Walmart wasn’t one of his skills. His own go-bag held two changes of clothing, an extra sweater, decent hiking boots and his assigned weapons. Everything fit in a moderately sized gym bag with room to spare.

  “Come on, partner, aren’t you the least bit excited?” Ray’s smile held more than a hint of mischief as he lifted two large suitcases out of the trunk of his sleek black luxury car. “We’re going behind the scenes into the glamorous world of rock and roll. Or at least pop and party. It could be a chance to break out of your enforced hermitage and meet some pretty young thing. I’ve heard the dancers with Aggi’s tour are impressively athletic.”

  “Have you even heard of the term sexual harassment?” Ben gritted his teeth as his partner transferred the bags to the trunk of Ben’s battered sedan.

  “Have
I ever been less than professional in person?” Ray slid into the passenger seat, completely unruffled by his partner’s irritation.

  Ben pulled the car into traffic. “Don’t I count as a person?”

  “In the eyes of the law.” Ray grinned. “Trust me, I have a lot of experience in navigating boundaries. I would never push.”

  He’s right. While his partner’s behavior sounded outrageous, he did seem to have a knack for setting people at ease. Peter could do that, too. His mind shied away from the memory.

  “I’m a shameless flirt. It’s how I navigate the world and this job. I’m playing to my strengths,” Ray continued. “For you, the whole prematurely grumpy, crusty cynic thing works even if you aren’t much over thirty. The day-old stubble and shadows under your eyes are a method actor’s dream.”

  Ben’s hands tightened around the leather-clad steering wheel. “This conversation has officially reached the uncomfortable and awkward silence stage.”

  “It wouldn’t destroy your reputation to loosen up the teensiest bit. But I’m not about to judge.” Ray waved his hand in cheerful dismissal. “Your grumpiness won’t affect my ability to enjoy all of the beautiful men and women that are sure to be hanging around Aggi.”

  “We’re there for the sister. Katherine.” Even as he spoke, Ben regretted snapping at his partner. Something about this case had triggered an aggressive protective instinct. He ignored the vivid image of the target’s face lingering in the back of his mind.

  “Actually, we’re there as consultants,” Ray corrected. “To be wise and experienced teachers to the ignorant, not action heroes. Which is a shame, because I would look stunning walking away from an explosion in slow motion.”

  Ben cracked a grin. “Are you ever serious?”