Lay Lady Lay: The Detective Macaulay Homicide Trilogy #2

By Ruby Binns-Cagney

**IT’S HERE! The 2nd book in the Detective Macaulay Murders Trilogy!!***

Fast paced, sexy, and exciting !!!!

"Lay Lady Lay" picks up the pace -
A relentless sadist has put a target on Detective Macaulay's back.

The clock is ticking.

Overview of "Lay Lady Lay"

One dead blonde. One bomb. One sadist.

Detective Macaulay is not about to quit.

In 12 hours 27 minutes, time runs out.

Will Macaulay stop sadist Harknett in time?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BinnsCagneyPublishing Co
• Release date: May 22, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301958498

Ruby Binns-Cagney

Keep in touch - sign up for new releases and save on publication day:http://books2read.com/author/ruby-binns-cagney/subscribe/1/41373/Ruby Binns-Cagney is a successful independently published Author who writes women's fiction (chick-lit) and American-based crime thrillers.Ruby's 'Detective Macaulay' crime series has a following on Twitter https://www.twitter.com/detmacaulay (@DetMacaulay)Ruby has a website and blog - read more details of her publishing services.Through her publishing company - BinnsCagneyPublishing Co - Ruby empowers others to become self-published Authors, and her Team also mentor new Authors.Free Marketing Help Signup:http://eepurl.com/3IsJPAdd her to your Google+ Circles https://plus.google.com/+RubyBinnsCagney/postsPlease visit her website:http://author-tales-of-self-publishing-books.blogspot.co.uk

Book preview

Lay Lady Lay

The Detective Macaulay Murders Trilogy No.2

Ruby Binns-Cagney

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

This book is fictional. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Neither the author nor publisher shall be held liable for any actions you may take as a result of reading this book. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Cover design ©BinnsCagneyDesign Co 2013

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Preview Book No.3

About The Author

Further Reading

Chapter One

Bo Harknett had recorded video footage of himself coarsely beheading a woman using a chainsaw. The music was loud to hide her ghoulish screams.

The music was clear and crisp, and it was easily identifiable as Bob Dylan’s "Lay Lady Lay a track which appears on the album Nashville." It was allegedly written about Joan Baez, and their love affair in the 1960s. I had a copy of the album in the record rack under the desk where I was sitting.

The bastard had the gall to send me the video file by placing it directly onto my laptop. He’d been to this house and had uploaded the video file manually onto my laptop. I felt sick to my stomach that he had been in the house, but my internal feeling of impending terror had only just begun.

As the screen darkened again, it revealed a countdown clock, which simply read:

Will Time Run Out For Detective Macaulay?

The clock showed 23 hours and 19 minutes left before the clock ran out.

Pop-pop, when was this video sent? When was this sent? Hank spun the laptop around to face him so he could see more clearly, and tapped furiously at the keys. He tried to stop the countdown screen and close the file but it would not close down.

It’s not letting me close it down! he said, frustrated.

Who can we call to help us? I shouted, angry at myself for being so helpless, and in pain, and wanting to hear from Derek all at the same time.

Hank took out his cell phone and stabbed at the numbers. I could hear the phone ringing at the other end, waiting anxiously for the other person to pick up.

Who are you calling, pop-pop? I said, but Hank simply handed me the cell phone, and continued to click the laptop’s keys.

I put the cell phone next to my ear, hearing my heartbeat pounding in my ears at the same time. My world was collapsing inwards on me, and I was drowning in fear. I was losing myself in danger all over again; picking the scabs of wounds. Wounds which were still fresh. Wounds which were still raw.

Hello?

FBI Special Agent Benson, the voice on the line answered.

God, it was Benson. Hank had called the one person I knew could help us get out of this thing alive.

I was so relieved to hear his voice, I could feel hot tears stinging my eyes, and swallowed them down quickly.

Nick, it’s Finkel Macaulay. I began, talking hurriedly.

What’s wrong? You alright? he shot back, concern in his voice.

It’s Harknett. He just sent me a video clip. He’s claimed his next victim. You have to see this. It’s gruesome on a whole new level of his insanity. We have to put him down, now!

Stay calm, Finkel - you can’t get too agitated. Remember what your Doctor said? I’m coming to you. Benson said.

No, no – I’m at Hank’s, and Harknett’s been inside the house. We’re going to get to a hotel. Meet us at Halfway Port and Vine Street in about an hour?

You’re not cleared to drive yet, Macaulay. How are you going to get there? he said.

Hank’s going to drive us! We’re leaving now. I don’t want to be here another second.

Alright, tell Hank to drive safely and I will meet you all at the Hotel. And Finkel?

Yes?

Go with cartoons and then text me the name and room number.

Got it, Nick, thanks, bye.

Nick had advised me to register at the Hotel under a pseudonym, so I used a cartoon character name to check in. I also pulled a baseball cap down as low as it would go to cover most of my face. Hank was too well known in the area as the County Coroner, so he stuck with his real name, and said I was his niece from out of town. Hank signed me in as his guest and secured the room on a credit card, which had only been activated one-week prior. If Harknett was tracking us digitally there would not be much for him to find, which was fortunate for us at this point.

We had finally completely checked in, and I immediately sent Benson a text message to show I was registered at the hotel under the name Wilma Forchetti. Flintstone was already taken.

Once inside the generously proportioned room, I got into the big queen-sized bed fully dressed, and Hank sat in a nearby armchair as we waited for Special Agent Nick Benson to arrive.

Over one hour later, there was no sign of Special Agent Benson. We allowed time for delays in the traffic, assessed the impact on traffic given the time of night, and factored in allowances for the heavy rain that had accompanied us to the Hotel. Something was wrong, I could feel it.

Just then, Hank got up and went to use the bathroom. Before Hank reached the bathroom door he was interrupted.

There was a knock at our room door. Hank and I briefly looked at each other, before Hank walked over to open the door. I reached for my Glock, and climbed over the bed to