The Rich Must Die

By Wagner Wolf

Filthy rich...and DEAD

Money and power are the usual motives for Detective Paul Garrett's investigations, but this trail of evidence leaves everyone a suspect. Men and women of influence are dropping left and right. Prominent CEOs and politicians aren't immune to death's shadow hovering over an already hostile Washington D.C. Someone is preying on the rich and unsuspecting, using them as pawns in a life & death game of chess. Garrett's career is on the line and the pressure is on to fit all of the pieces of the puzzle together. Will he solve this murder mystery in time, or will he be next in the long line of gruesome deaths?

Come inside and enter the twisted world of money, murder, and mayhem...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wagner Wolf
• Release date: Nov 20, 2013
• ISBN: 9781310019579

Wagner Wolf

Wagner Wolf is the creative mind behind several great mind twisting psychological thriller titles including "The Rich Must Die" in which the have and have-nots battle for it all until the bloody end. Domestic violence and abuse is no laughing matter. That's why in "Antoinette - Shattered Dreams", revenge is served swiftly, discreetly, and harshly by the one and only, Antoinette. Near death experience stories and Heaven Is For Real doesn't compare to the drama, suspense, thought provoking dialogue, and thrill ride you're in for while reading "The Nicest Guy In Hell". The non-fiction title for all of the kids, students, residents, and career changers that want to one day become medical professional need to get their hands on "So You Wanna Be A Doctor". After all, it was written by actual doctors who recently completed medical residency at some of the most exclusive and prestigious institutions in the country.Jedi mind like creative thought and valiant effort go into publishing each captivating and engrossing story that is made available specifically for you. Be sure to also check out great reads including "Blissful Encounters" and "Breast Cancer Chronicles".

Book preview

The Rich Must Die

Wagner Wolf

Published by Wagner Wolf LLC

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Wagner Wolf Publishing

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.  This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.  If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.  If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite retailer and purchase a copy for yourself.  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Table of Contents

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

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Chapter 1

Jolted awake from a deep, peaceful sleep. Dark. Can’t see. What time? Something ain’t right. Someone in the room. What’s going on here? Someone is in bed with me! Hard to focus. Half asleep. Ouch! Elbow digging into shoulder. Can’t move. What is this? Being attacked. Home invasion? Someone on top of me! Small hands clawing at my pajama shirt. That elbow. Two legs pinning me to the bed. I gotta get out. Do something! Who is this? Is this real?

With questions still swirling, instinct kicked in, and Graham Pierson stiffened his tall body. A quick, powerful smack was delivered to his assailant’s chin with the palm of his right hand. The dark force holding him down eased for a split second. He wildly punched the night air. Kicked his legs and wriggled his body violently. The lightweight intruder toppled to the hardwood floor. Pierson shot out of bed, flung the Totum bedroom door open, and sprinted out into the wide hallway.

Running. Panting. Scared. Confused. Stubbed a toe on large Greek bust positioned outside the guest suite. Masterful Mollinachte painting knocked off wall. Danger. The unknown figure dressed head to toe in black was up from bedroom floor. A large object was grabbed off the tufted ottoman.

Is that a gun? Pierson covered his head. No shots fired. Maybe a stick or a pole. Gotta wake someone up, but who? Who would hear me scream? Why is this happening?

The agile figure easily closed the distance between himself and Pierson, then began waving the object around. He was calm. Deliberate movements. Focused. Even without his glasses, Pierson could now see that the object was an aluminum baseball bat – the only one he kept in his walk-in closet. Ha - some protection, he thought. Get to the stairs! Get away from this madman!

Too late. Right then, Pierson was struck impossibly hard in the back. He coughed. He stumbled. Staggered towards the stairs, his only means of escape. The long, long circular stair entrance seemed never ending, but just before he reached the first step, another blow from the bat was delivered. Pierson felt his left knee explode. Throbbing pain took over. He howled miserably and crumpled in pain.

Don’t give up. Find a weapon. Take the bat! Do something. He searched in vain for some sort of relief. His right leg kept kicking out in attempts to knock the intruder over, but all action ceased when the long silver bat went up in the air again. It hung there a second, maybe two. Taunting. Teasing. Waiting.

In the next instant, with crushing force, the bat rushed towards Pierson’s unprotected head. Skull cracked under the immense pressure. An empty cry. Pleading eyes begged for mercy. Vision blurred. He no longer saw the shadowy figure perched above him. He no longer felt his limbs fighting. The exhaustion from tonight’s brief battle quickly faded. No knee pain. No backache. This war was over, and he was definitely on the losing side. The world around him went dark and he closed his eyes one final time. Graham T. Pierson’s lungs filled halfway with air. His once vibrant heart beat sputtered, stumbled, then stopped. Death.

Now, the intruder started on his real task…

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Chapter 2

A frantic dispatch call disrupted Detective Paul Garrett’s otherwise serene morning. He arrived at the precinct early to finish overdue paperwork, and to get the first crack at some fresh donuts. His Bavarian Crème choice went well with his caffeine-laced energy drink, but the news coming over the wire left him feeling drained.

Major disturbance in the Wescott section, he mused to himself, noting that the only crimes that ever happened over there involved Girl Scout cookies and hungry trophy wives. Dead victim. Messy crime scene, dispatch repeated. Sounds like an inexperienced first responder hyping things up, but Garrett had a hunch that this call would be different then all the others before it. His gut feeling was almost as solid as DNA evidence I’ll check it out, then get back to my morning sugar rush before the boss gets in.

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Chapter 3

Blood.

Garrett pushed the oversized Tuscan door open, and there was blood everywhere. There was crimson blood oozing across the Mediterranean palazzo floor, staining every crevice as it flowed. Tear-sized droplets bounced off the marble staircase and wrought iron banister.