Deadly Dreams Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  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

  Teaser chapter

  PRAISE FOR THE MINDHUNTERS SERIES BY KYLIE BRANT

  “Kylie Brant has a winning series with the Mindhunters! I can hardly wait for the next installment. A complex, page-turning mystery plus a heartfelt romance blends into a fast-paced story that kept me reading until the wee hours. Deadly Dreams has everything a great romantic thriller needs.”

  —Allison Brennan, New York Times bestselling author

  WAKING THE DEAD

  “Get ready for lots of twists and turns with an abundance of suspense in this thrilling romance.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “Once again Kylie Brant kept me awake until three in the morning to finish her book . . . A really impressive series. She reminds me of a few great writers. If you love Kay Hooper’s writing, you will love Ms. Brant’s writing, too.”

  —A Romance Review

  “If you have been reading this Mindhunters series, you will not want to miss out on this next installment . . . I recommend reading them all from the beginning!”

  —Fallen Angel Reviews

  “An electrifying and infinitely gripping novel . . . Kylie writes excellent dialogue [and] creates engaging characters [and] vividly detailed investigation and action scenes. The smooth process in which she moves the story along keeps the pages turning, allowing [readers] to immerse themselves in the novel from start to finish.”

  —The Romance Studio

  WAKING EVIL

  “Enjoyable . . . A superb police procedural . . . enhanced by the supernatural and the romance.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “Wonderful characters and mystery . . . Brant does a great job with pacing and tension!”

  —Errant Dreams Reviews

  “[An] exceedingly suspenseful series . . . The exceptional writing of Kylie Brant will keep you reading way into the night. From first-rate suspense to engaging characters to a moving romance, Ms. Brant will leave you anticipating every compelling scene with much eagerness . . . While the dangerous scenarios of Waking Evil draw you into the novel, the tender love story is just as compelling.”

  —Single Titles

  “Intense paranormal elements, gripping suspense, and graphic descriptions make for a realistic read.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  WAKING NIGHTMARE

  “Intelligent, gripping suspense with both chill and sizzle. Waking Nightmare will leave you awake in the night . . . and wanting more.”

  —Cindy Gerard, New York Times bestselling author

  “The writing is vivid and strong . . . Suspense fans will love the unexpected twist and pulse-pounding climax.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Wonderful psych material, great characters, interesting mystery . . . There’s plenty of tension and great pacing to the suspense.”

  —Errant Dreams Reviews

  “The first sentence will intrigue you and the next one causes chills. By the third sentence, you will be completely hooked on Waking Nightmare.”

  —Single Titles

  “Thrilling . . . A great opening act.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  Berkley Sensation Titles by Kylie Brant

  WAKING NIGHTMARE

  WAKING EVIL

  WAKING THE DEAD

  DEADLY INTENT

  DEADLY DREAMS

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)

  Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India

  Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  DEADLY DREAMS

  A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / April 2011

  Copyright © 2011 by Kim Bahnsen.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-47764-9

  BERKLEY® SENSATION

  Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  BERKLEY® SENSATION and the “B” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  For my new baby granddaughter, Kinley Nicole,

  who already holds the key to my heart.

  Acknowledgments

  When it comes to imaginative ways to off people ☺, I’m never short on creativity but lack the factual expertise when it comes to the pesky details. I’m always grateful to those who fill in the gaps in my knowledge to help me stage my scenes realistically. A big thank-you goes out to Joe Collins, Paramedic/Firefighter, who assisted with all things fire related and helped ensure my villain didn’t burn down entire cities enacting his evil acts. Your infinite patience with my endless questions is much appreciated!

  Thank-yous are owed to Jennifer Gaston, Marketing Manager, and Matthew Scott, Director of Data Services, LWG Consulting, for answers regarding data recovery and analysis of videotapes and recordings; to Piper Rome and Sgt. Gary Vineyard, DEA Dallas Task Force, Rtd., for providing the necessary expertise when it came to questions about firearms. The details regarding Internal Affairs investigations were generously provided by Sergeant Michael Hervey of the Charlotte-Mecklinburg Police Department. And Elizabeth A. Peacock, MD, Bexar County Medical Examiner Office, San Antonio, Texas, weighed in w
ith insight regarding pathology and the medical examiner’s domain—I appreciate all your help! As always, any errors were mine alone.

  And finally, thank you to Ali, Ryan, and Kat for the brainstorming session at Boltini’s. My heroine never would have made it out alive without you guys!

  Chapter 1

  The figure did a macabre dance as flames leapt to engulf it. Screams knifed through the night shadows, hideous and agonizing. The smell of gasoline lingered strong and heavy in the air, mingling with the stomach-turning stench of seared flesh and hair. Garbled pleas for mercy interspersed the screams.

  But there would be no mercy from the watcher.

  Nude, he stood just close enough to feel the searing heat on his bare skin. The flames beckoned madly, enticing him to join them. Just a step closer, they seemed to hiss. Feel it. Share it. Make us one.

  He withstood the furnace-like blast as long as he could before moving farther away, his gaze transfixed by the writhing human torch. Fire was endlessly fascinating. Unstopped, it would gild the body, melt skin, and singe bone until it was sated. By that time, the figure would be little more than charred fragments of teeth and bone. Flames purified, cleansed the act of evil until only the motivation mattered.

  And no one had better motivation than him.

  He flung out his arms like a preacher inciting the heavens, his form silhouetted against the brilliant glow. Justice had been a long time coming. And it couldn’t be evaded any longer.

  Marisa Chandler fought through the weight of sleep in a desperate bid for consciousness. Rolling from the bed, she immediately dropped to the floor, her limbs unresponsive.

  But the jolt yanked her firmly from dream to waking, and for that alone she was grateful.

  A bit painfully, she pushed herself to sit upright, leaning against the side of the bed. Sweat slicked her body, as if the flames in her nightmares had emitted real heat.

  It had felt real. They always did.

  She took a moment to will away the shudders that still racked her body. It hadn’t been the same nightmare that had plagued her for four long months. She could give thanks for that, even as she fought to shrug off her fear of what the vision might portend.

  Resting her head against the mattress, she closed her eyes. Dreams like this one didn’t mean anything. Not anymore.

  The recognition brought both relief and despair.

  The peal of the doorbell shrilled through her thoughts. Risa opened her eyes. Thought about ignoring it. But there was faint light edging the shades over the window, heralding dawn’s approach. Her mother would have just gotten off her cleaning shift a few hours ago. She deserved the sleep.

  The bell rang again insistently. Heaving herself to her feet, she padded barefoot to the door, checked the judas hole. The image of the stranger on the front porch was tiny, but she didn’t need a larger image to identify him as a plainclothes cop. Faintly intrigued, she pulled the door open, leaving the screen door latched in case she was wrong.

  Her instincts hadn’t been exactly foolproof recently.

  “Marisa Chandler?”

  She took her time answering, scanning first the detective shield he held up for her perusal, then, more slowly, him. Caucasian, six feet, about one eighty, all of it muscle. Black hair and eyes. Hard jaw, uncompromising chin. Only visible identifying mark was the small crescent-shaped scar above one eyebrow. And despite his lack of expression, impatience was all but bouncing off him.

  “Yes.”

  “Detective Nate McGuire, Philadelphia Police Department.” He slipped his shield inside his jacket. “I’m on my way to a possible crime scene. My captain passed along a request from the chief inspector of the detective bureau that I extend you an invite to ride along. In an unofficial capacity, of course.”

  A chill broke out over her skin, chasing away the remnants of heat that still lingered from the nightmare. “Why would he do that?”

  McGuire lifted a dark brow. “I figured you’d know.”

  She shoved her heavy mass of hair from her face and shook her head. Risa hadn’t looked up any old friends from the force since coming home four months ago. Had avoided news like the plague. That hadn’t been difficult given her mother’s penchant for watching only game shows and inspirational broadcasting.

  “Apparently your employer, Adam Raiker, spoke to Chief Inspector Wessels about it.” His midnight gaze did a fast once-over, clearly wondering what it was about the woman in faded yoga pants and an ancient Penn State T-shirt that would catch the attention of the head of the detectives. “So I was told to stop and ask if you’re interested. I’m asking.”

  She swallowed, just managed to avoid shrinking away from the door. “No.”

  He nodded, clearly not disappointed. “Sorry to wake you.” Turning, he began down the stairs, leaving her to stare after him, fingers clutching the doorjamb.

  Raiker. Damn him, her boss wouldn’t leave her in peace. Wouldn’t accept what she’d already accepted herself. Guilt, well earned, had rendered her useless. To him. To his forensics consulting company. And certainly to this detective.

  The small house didn’t have a driveway or garage. McGuire was halfway to the street where he’d left his ride, a discreet black Crown Vic. He moved like an athlete, his stride quick and effortless. She had the impression she’d already been forgotten as he mentally shifted gears to his first priority, his response to the call out.

  “What’s the crime?” For a moment she was frozen, hardly believing the question had come from her. This part of her life was over. Had been for months.

  But still she waited, breath held, until he hesitated, half turned to call over his shoulder, “Possible homicide. A burned corpse was found about fifteen minutes ago.”

  The air clogged in her lungs. Blood stopped chugging through her veins. Organs froze in suspended animation. The figure in the dream danced in her mind again, the engulfing flames spearing skyward.

  But those dreams had become meaningless. Hadn’t they?

  Oxygen returned in a rush. “Wait!”

  McGuire had reached the car now. And he made no attempt to mask his irritation. “For what?”

  “Give me five minutes.”

  His response followed her as she turned away to dash toward the bathroom. “You’ve already used three.” So she paused only to brush her teeth, drag a comb through her hair, and shove her bare feet into sneakers. Then she headed out again, snatching her coat and purse in one practiced move as she passed the closet. Risa took a moment to lock the door behind her before jogging down the steps toward his vehicle, already regretting her decision.

  She didn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t do it anymore.

  Which didn’t explain why her legs kept moving in the direction of the car.

  She’d barely slid inside the vehicle before he was pulling away from the curb. Shooting the detective a quick look, she pulled the door shut and reached for the seat belt. “What’s the location?”

  “Body was found in a wooded area in the northern part of the city,” he said in a clipped tone.

  “So you’re from the Northeast Detective Division? Or the homicide unit?” She busied herself buttoning her navy jacket. It had occurred to her that the day was likely to be long and chilly. The temps had been unseasonably cool for May.

  “Homicide.”

  It was what he didn’t say that caught her attention. “If you’re homicide, the call must have sounded fairly certain that there was foul play involved. Or else the crime bears some resemblance to one you’re already working. Which is it?”

  Dawn was spilling soft pastels across the horizon, but the interior of the car was still shadowy. Even so, she would have to be blind to miss the mutinous jut to his jaw. “What’s your story, anyway?”

  His attitude managed to slice through her self-doubt and land her squarely in familiar territory. She was well acquainted with suspicious cops. They would be the one element of her job she wouldn’t miss if she left it for good. When she left it.

/>   “I assume Inspector Wessels told you whatever he wanted you to know.”

  The sound he made was suspiciously close to a snort. “The chief doesn’t talk to me. And Captain Morales wasn’t in the mood for details when we spoke.”

  She was sidetracked by his words. “Captain Morales? Eduardo Morales?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  Surprised delight filled her. “When’d he get his bars? I hadn’t heard about his promotion.” If she’d gotten in touch with friends since she’d been back, maybe she’d have caught up on department gossip. But first she’d been focused on recovery and rehab for the physical wounds and then . . . The thought skittered across her mind before she had a chance to slam that mental door shut.

  Then she’d been licking her emotional wounds.

  “How do you know Morales?” He did a quick right on red in an effort, she suspected, to avoid waiting for the light.

  “I was eight years on the force here before joining Raiker Forensics five years ago. Worked out of the Major Crimes Unit—Robbery and Burglary.” Amazing that the words would be accompanied by a tug of nostalgia. “Morales and I were tapped for special duty on a Violent Offenders task force for several months. He’s a good cop. How long have you worked with him?”

  “Just a couple months.” And it was clear that he was nowhere close yet to deciding if he shared her opinion of the captain. He shot her another sidelong glance. “You don’t look like a cop.”